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dancingintheraindreamingonday · 3 years

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You will always be the winter soldier - Chapter 5

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Author’s Note:

This is a flashback of your past with Bucky. Somethings weren’t witnessed by Bucky or you because I just want to give more details about the thoughts of other people as well. So this is definitely written in a third person perspective. This chapter is really long but I hope you’ll enjoy it anyway.

Bucky sits in a plane to Munich. Sam got information that the leader of the Flag smashers are currently working there.

Bucky remembers the last time he was in Germany. It feels like an eternity ago.

„Tell me why I need to watch this series again.“, Bucky looked absolutely annoyed.

„Its a classic. Everyone knows this series. It’s like general knowledge.“ You answered while scribbling something on your paper.

„ And why aren't you watching this series?“

„Well my love, I know this series by my heart.“, you smiled at him and then saying the exact same thing the actor said on the screen proving him that you really do know this series.

Minutes later you closed your math book with a loud thump and throwing it on the ground.

"I'm sorry. I don't want to torture you with this series. Maybe I can make it up to you." You winked at Bucky and kissed him on his right cheek.

„Probably you will find a way.“, Bucky smiled mischievously and kissed you right on your lips with both of his hands on your cheeks.

You and Bucky weren’t virgins but you both never had sex with each other yet. It made you nervous.

And Bucky was nervous as well.The last time he had sex was an eternity ago and women changed through the times. Now women are so much more emancipated and strong-minded.

You kissed him. On his face, throat, neck and down his torso. You wanted him as much as he wanted you.

In this night you and Bucky didn’t have just sex- you made love that night. It was something absolutely soft, and warm and caring about it.

There was no much of talking and there was no pressure- it was just pure love without saying the word itself.

Everything changed from that night on. From that day on you both were a couple, without labeling it.

Two weeks later Bucky accompanied you to university. It was something he did regularly and you enjoyed it. It gave your the feeling he was just a normal guy spending time with his girlfriend. And James from Bucharest was indeed almost a normal guy. While you were bubbling about a math problem no one except math students could understand, he noticed a man.

Bucky knew when he was being followed and it agitated him.

Now that he wasn’t just concerned with his life but also concerned with your safety it made him anxious.

He grabbed your right arm and pulled you in a small alley.

You looked at him confused and scared. „What’s going on?“, you asked not understanding his sudden behavior.

„I wanted to give this to you.“ Bucky pulled out a small mobile phone from his pocket. You looked confused because you already had a smartphone in your trouser pocket.

„It’s a safe line. So, if you’re in danger or you just think you’re in danger- call me and I will come and get you.“

„You’re scarring me. Are you in trouble? Are WE in trouble? Do we need to run?“ You looked at him, touching his face to make sure he calmed down.

„No. Don’t worry. Everything’s alright.“ Bucky lied. „I’m just taking precautions.“

You doubted this reassurance.

„I can ditch university. I can come with you.“

„No. It calms me down to know that you’re safe at university.“

„Okay. But don’t forget: If you jump, I jump, remember?“ You quoted the movie you both watched last night.

„You’re stuck with me. Where you go, I go.“

He kissed the palm of your left hand. „I’m not going anywhere.“, Bucky lied again.

And with that he accompanied you to university. As he left, you walked into your class and you took out your phone and your homework. You checked the latest news. The day before there was a bombing in Vienna but on this day there were breaking that there’s a picture of a suspect. The picture showed no other than Bucky himself. Your heart stopped for a moment and you couldn’t think clearly. This explained his behavior and fear. You knew he was innocent- no doubt about that. You knew the man you fell in love with and James would never do such thing. The only conclusion was that he was being fraud by someone else. You decided to skip the class and go home to find James.

When you arrived outside, the campus was quite empty because the majority of the students were already in their classes. As you walked to the gate a man was calling you.

„Hey! Wait!“ He jogged to you.

„You’re working with Bucky, aren’t you? You’re his accomplice.“ The man in front of you assumed.

„None of your business.“, you muttered. You wanted to pass him but he stopped you by grabbing your shoulder.

„My name’s Sam Wilson and you really need to come with me.“, he said, scarring you with his words.

His grip was so tight that you couldn’t break free.

„Im not coming with you. Who do you think you are?“

„I’m working with Captain America.“ He said. You could hear the pride in his voice.

„So? That doesn’t make you an authority. I don’t trust you.“

„You saw the picture, didn’t you? You saw the picture of him in the newspaper. You don’t strike me as a dumb person, yeah? You know what this picture means. They are after him. They are already here. So I need your help.“

„Why do you need my help? He’s innocent. That picture is fake and I know it. But do you? Do you believe in his innocence or what aim do you really pursue?“

Sam didn’t answer but he also didn’t let go of you. So the only thing that you could do was to kick him between his legs. But your head start wasn’t for long. You can’t outrun an athlete. He caught you with his hand which made you stumbled and you fell face forward on the ground. Your lip was bleeding.

„Im sorry. I didn’t intend to hurt you.“

As you looked around you saw police officers pointing their guns at you and Sam.

„You called the police?!“ You asked unbelievably.

„Ey. They’re pointing their guns at me too. So no- I didn’t call the police.“

They handcuffed you both and took off. Sam talked with someone via earpiece: „I’ve got her but the police got us both. I’m sorry.“

At the same time, Bucky, Steve and King T’Challa were also handcuffed. Steve looked at his childhood friend and shared the information Sam just gave him: „I’m sorry, but they’ve got her.“

To say that Bucky was furious was an understatement: He would burn down the whole city if they’d hurt her.

When you arrived at the office in Berlin you couldn’t stop all the questions that were floating in your mind. „Why are we here? Since when is Germany responsible for crimes that happened in Vienna or Bucharest? Why were German police officers in Romania? What the heck is going on?“ You asked but everyone was ignoring you.

Minutes later a man entered the room and you realized that this was Tony Stark. „Who is that?“ He asked, pointing his finger at you. You didn’t bother to answer him. You just turned your head away. „Alright. Kinda mean but we will get the answers anyway.“ He sat down next to Steve. „Is the thing you have with him even legal?“, he asked you again.

„You tell me. He was born in 1917. I was born 80 years later.“

Tony scrunched up his nose.

The screen was turned on and you saw James. „Why is he in a cage? Why is there no lawyer? Is this how Germany practices its law now? Did you tell him his right to silence?“ You asked almost aggressively

„You’re audacious and naive.“, said a man in a suit.

„Stop insulting me. James is as innocence as I am. He wasn’t in Vienna and I told you that from the beginning. And no one in this damn room is listening. You’re just looking for a guy to take the blame. I don’t know how America treats their suspects but here in Germany they have human rights as well. They have dignity and they are still treated with respect and decency. All people have rights. We learned that 70 years ago and we will never ever forget it, understand?“, you spatted. „You imprisoned and treat him as if he’s a monster.“

„My dear child, do you know what he just did today in Bucharest? The damage he caused?“, the man screamed.

„But it were you with the loaded guns, right?“

„He’s not just a suspect. He’s the delinquent.“

„In some countries there is a trial for this question to be answered, but you seemed to be hangman and judge in once.“ You provoked him. This was so unlike you that you really couldn’t understand the anger that was inside you.

„I like her.“ Tony said. „She’s loyal like a golden retriever.“

„Stop insulting me even more. I’m defending the man I love that doesn’t mean I’m a puppy wagging its tail.“

Before anyone could say anymore to worsen the situation the power was gone for merely seconds but the power was back, Bucky disappeared from the video. Everyone in the room turned around and looked at you.

„How are you going to explain this.“ Tony asked you

„Kid, you stay here. Don’t even think about leaving this room.“ As Tony walked downstairs he asked himself if you’re related to a woman he met over 20 years ago who happens to have the same last surname like you did. No, unlikely. Almost impossible.

Bucky, in his winter soldier mode only had one aim: to kill as many people as possible. But something was off. He hasn’t been the winter soldier for quite some time and the impact you had. The thought that you were hurt made him even more lethal. His priority was to find you and made sure you were okay. So everyone who fought him was a threat, an enemy.

It ended in a cafeteria where Bucky held a gun to the head of a seemingly important man. Bucky was circled with dozen of agents, all pointing a gun at him.

„Where is she? Where is (y/f/n)?“ Bucky asked

„She’s okay. You don’t need to worry about her.“, Steve assured Bucky

„I don’t trust you. I need to see her.“

„We can bring her here. So you can see it for yourself.“ Steve suggested while Bucky just nodded.

Steve and Tony ran upstairs and Tony grasped Steve by his arm. „What the fuck do you think you’re doing? You can’t bring her downstairs to him. He’s dangerous and she’s just a kid. You can’t control him.“

„He isn’t dangerous and I don’t think he would hurt her. After all they are something like a couple. She knows him. And we will be there as well. Trust me, Tony. Nothing will happen.“

So they both accompanied you downstairs.

You’ve got nervous, shaking uncontrollably. „You don’t have to do this.“ Tony said.

„And I’m really sorry that I compared you with a golden retriever. I just think that loyalty is a great character trait.“

You smiled at him. „It’s alright. I’m sorry too. For being so angry and impulsive and arrogant.“

„Are you scared?“ Tony asks. „No, I’m not. I trust him. I trust the man I love. He isn’t the winter soldier anymore. And that he remembers me in this moment- that’s a good sign, isn’t it? So I had a little impact on him.“

Steve opened the door. You felt all the eyes of the agents on you. Thats really made you uncomfortable but you tried to ignore and only concentrate on James. You tried to relax. Your hands where cold as ice- something that always happens when you get nervous. You walked towards him. „You need to let go of this man, James.“, you pointed with your eyes at the man. „I’m alright. I’m safe.“ You approached him. „You really need to let go of him.“ Your voice was firmer. „The agents here are scared of you. They see you as a threat. So I’m begging you: let go of him.“

And Bucky let go of him. „They hurt you.“ He stated looking at your bruised lips. „No, they didn’t. I stumbled.“ You reassured him. „James, you need to put down the gun as well. The avengers aren’t the enemy. We can trust them. I do. I trust them and I think we might need their help.“ And you kissed him. Right in front of anyone. You heard the thump of the gun greeting the ground as James let go of it.

You broke the kiss and caressed his cheek. But before Bucky could say anything you looked to your right and something you saw made you so scared. You pushed Bucky with all the strength you’ve got, making him stumble a few steps backwards. But that was enough to take his spot.

Bucky saw the redness on your shirt before he heard the bang of the gun. Steve and Tony screamed „NO!“, but it was already too late. You looked at it and all the color of your face vanished. You started to fall but Bucky caught you, laying you softly on the ground. Soon you lost you consciousness.

Steve used the chaos to get Bucky out of there. „They will help her. But you need to come. It’s not safe for you here.“

During that time agent Sharon Carter kept Steve and Bucky informed but Bucky had a really hard time. „She’s still sleeping. You are not missing anything.“ She assured him.

When you woke up you were greeted by non other than Tony Stark itself. He read a German magazine. „Do you understand what you’re reading or are you just looking at the pictures?“

He looked up and grinned. „Really nice pictures. But I also get help with the translating.“ He pointed to his high technology-glasses.

„How do you feel?“

„Exhausted but okay.“

You looked around and you saw James standing in the door frame. „James“ you whispered, reaching out for him. „I’m so relieved that you’re fine.“ Bucky looked at Tony who faintly shook his head indicating that you were still oblivious about the fight in Leipzig and the separation of the avengers.

„What happened after I passed out?“, you asked

„You mean after you got shot.“, Tony corrected you.

„Why did you pack?“, you ask James, forgetting the last question you just asked.

„I’m leaving for Wakanda. They offered me to free me from the mind control and I’m gonna take that chance.“

„Take me with you. I want to be with you. I can’t imagine a life without you. Please, James.“

He looked you deep in your eyes. You could see how he’s debating on the inside. „Okay.“ And he kissed you passionately.

Tony didn’t like that idea at all. „Okay, lovebirds. We better should look for a doctor to sign the release papers and you can rest a bit more.“ He ushered Bucky out of your room and when the door closed he let go of his facade.

„You can’t take her with you. Thats really selfish of you. She’s kid. She can’t throw away her life for you. She is not your psychologist. You know exactly what you are. You’re a murderer. Nothing will ever change that. You’re destroying her life. And you don’t care because after all you will always be the winter soldier. Nothing will change that.“

Bucky looked at Tony like he just got slapped. „I know who and what I am. I will never be good enough for her. Yeah, maybe I’m selfish taking her with me but I can’t imagine a life without her. I love her and I will protect her. I promise.“

„But can you protect her from yourself?“

As you packed your belongings James waited outside your room. „You don’t have to go with him. You don’t need to throw your life away. You don’t owe him anything.“, Tony stated.

„I’m not throwing anything away. He’s my future. He’s anything I’ve ever wanted. Wakanda will be an adventure and I’m ready to take it.“

Tony suppressed all the things he wanted to tell you. He hugs you and said instead. „If he hurts you in anyway, call me. I’ll come and get you.“ He caress your hair and without noticing he took a single hair of you. He needed to know who you were to him. He couldn’t ignore his curiosity anymore.

Chapter 6

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#sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barns x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes feels

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softyoongiionly · 4 years

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Fear and Dumplings: Chapter Sixteen

(GIF does not belong to me, my friend sent it to me over text! If anyone knows who made it, please let me know :) )

Confronting your fears for a final grade sounds unappealing but, with Yoongi as your partner, things might not be so bad.

Summary: You’re in your final semester at University when your Abnormal Psychology professor assigns you a partnered project surrounding your greatest fears. Lucky for you, your partner just so happens to be a cute boy named Min Yoongi.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Underground Rapper! Yoongi, Soft!!! Yoongi, Fluff!!!, College! Yoongi, Sub! Yoongi

Word Count: 8.5k

A/N: the love I have for this man is absolutely ridiculous. I have missed this series so much. I hope you love what I’ve done with the place ;) This is such an important chapter that I’ve been planning for the longest time. I hope you like it and, if you do: please please let me know!

NOTE: ALL BOLDED WORDS INDICATE WHEN CHARACTERS ARE SPEAKING KOREAN

Warnings for this Chapter: ok here we go...(TRIGGER WARNING)

minor angst, mentions of anxiety, mentions of criminal activity, mentions of bad parenting and abuse, mentions of trauma and related consequences, language, drug use, smut (holy heck the smut is ALOT).

Chapter Sixteen: The Past and The Present

You’ve never seen Yoongi angry before

Frustrated? Yes.

Annoyed? Often.

Stressed? Aren’t we all?

But, never angry.

He is pissed and, he has a perfectly good reason to be.

A short phone call from his dear friend Sejin left him flushed and furious.

The reason being? Sejin has just informed Yoongi that due to a recent rent increase, Sejin can no longer afford to keep SoundCrowd open.

“We’re going to figure this out ok? This isn’t over. I’ll talk to you later...”

The two of you had been watching a movie when he called and, your finger finally moves from the pause button as he hangs up his call.

You don’t think you’re going to be finishing it tonight.

“Yoongi-“

“What the fuck?” His voice is sharp, the fury clear in his rhetorical question as he turns to you, “What the fuck?”

Your hand twitches with the urge to touch him, to soothe him in some way but, Yoongi pushes himself off the couch by the time you try.

“I- I’ve been going to that building for 10 years. Sejin always pays his rent on time, he won’t even eat sometimes just to make sure his bills are paid and, this?? This is how they repay him? Are they serious? How can they just kick him to the side like this? What is he supposed to do? Fu- fuck what am I supposed to do?” Yoongi exhales, raking a hand through his hair as he seems to search helplessly around the room for answers.

Yoongi was supposed to work for Sejin after he graduated.

“Babe, I’m so sorry I- his landlord can’t just do that right? That doesn’t make any sense.” You offer, biting your lip as a humorless laugh leaves Yoongi’s lips.

“Of course he can, that’s what people like him do right? They gotta make their money. Who gives a shit about this guy and his livelihood? As long as he’s filling his pockets and, collecting his checks- he doesn’t give a single fuck about people like Seijin.”

Yoongi is blistering.

He isn't raising his voice at you but, the intensity of his emotions is getting the better of him.

“This isn’t right. There’s gotta be something we can do to help him, we can talk to Jin maybe? His dad’s a lawyer and-”

“I have to go. I’m gonna go down there and, see if I can talk to the landlord. I have money in savings, I don’t know- maybe he’ll take a bribe or something.” Yoongi interrupts you, completely disregarding your presence all together as he starts to grab his keys.

You don’t want to admit it but, his behavior is hurting your feelings.

You know he’s upset and, you want to respect that but, he’s closing himself off.

Just like he used to...

“Well, let me get my shoes on and I’ll come. You shouldn’t go alone and you shouldn’t have to pay this asshole off. We just need to-”

“I don’t need your help Y/N.” Yoongi’s tone is final, leaving no room for negotiation as his words hit you right in the gut, “I’ll text you later. I’m sorry about the movie.”

With your mouth parted in shock, all you can do is nod as your boyfriend disappears through your front door.

You can honestly say it’s the first time that Yoongi’s ever hurt your feelings.

Like, really really hurt your feelings.

Like, now you’re crying on the couch thinking about why you just became the scapegoat for his frustration.

It’s normal for people to get short when they are upset but, you can’t seem to understand why he treated you that way.

You thought you were passed all of this but apparently, you were wrong.

Part of you is telling yourself not to take it personally.

Whilst the other part of you is wondering why he’s still shutting you out.

Even after everything you’ve been through...

You decide to give him some space.

He’s only human.

Sometimes, we need time to process things on our own.

The sinking feeling in your stomach doesn’t leave you though and, you try and busy yourself with a few household chores before eventually succumbing to the sadness you feel and crying again.

It be like that.

You sent him a text shortly after he left that read:

You: I’m sorry if I pushed a little too hard. Please let me know if/when you need anything. I love you.

He still hasn’t responded.

In an effort to thwart the flurry of emotions in your heart, you end up falling asleep on the couch, hoping that he would respond by the time you wake up.

Instead, you are awoken by him calling you.

“Hello?” You can hear the grogginess in your voice and, Yoongi picks up on it immediately.

“Did I wake you?”

“Yeah, sorry I took a little nap after I cleaned up.”

Your hand is over your mouth as you cover up the sound of your yawn whilst Yoongi rushes out his reply.

“I’m the one who should be apologizing. I can’t believe I talked to you like that. I’m r-really sorry. I was so angry and I shouldn’t have snapped at you.” His voice is tighter as if he’s staving off his emotions and, it makes you wanna cry a little bit, “Then I just left? I feel like such a dick...I just didn’t know what to do. I just wanted to go and, I wasn’t thinking.”

“I get it, you just found out some really shitty news. I don’t blame you for being angry at all but, it-” You take a deep breath, attempting to reign in your hurt a little bit before continuing, “it did hurt that you just left like that. I would have given you space if you needed it, I just wish you would have told me instead of shutting me out.”

You can hear him sniffle on the other end of the line.

He’s a little devasted that he hurt you but, he isn’t going to make that the focal point of this conversation.

He just wants to make it right.

“You’re right. I’m so sorry jagiya. I just freaked out...”He sniffles again, the rawness in his voice apparent, “I’m still freaking out and instead of letting you support me, I left and now I feel like an idiot.”

You wipe your eyes, nodding throughout the duration of his sentence, “You're not an idiot at all. I’m still here and, I’m willing to figure this out with you. I just need you to let me ok? I want to help. Where are you right now?”

“I’m at my house. I talked to Sejin for awhile and, I guess he said the landlord is coming by next week to discuss the contract with him. He asked me to be there as a witness and, if you’re alright with it, I would really like it if you came too...”

“Of course.” You smile softly, “Do you want-”

“Can you come over?” Yoongi’s voice cracks finally as you hear him break down on the other end of the line.

Your heart follows suit as you immediately stand up and, head to your bedroom.

“I’m on my way.”

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

“Come here.” You whisper as your boyfriend opens his bedroom door, pulling him against your chest.

He’s dressed in a hoodie and his boxers, his hair completely disorganized due to the amount of time he’s probably messed with it.

“Jagi, I’m really sorry.” He’s all choked up when he buries his face in your neck and, you’re quick to rub tenderly at his lower back.

“Hey- I forgive you ok? Everyone has their moments baby, don’t be so hard on yourself.” You kiss the side of his face, kicking the door shut before ushering him towards the bed.

“I’m so scared...” He’s whispering now, his voice barely audible as he seems to cling onto the material of your t-shirt, “I don’t know what I’m gonna do. I don’t know how I’m gonna help him.”

Tilting his chin, you level with him, “We’re going to go there next week and, talk to this guy and, see what we can work out. The city instituted a law three months ago stating that rent increases have to be preapproved by the tenant, the landlord and, the property association. That’s what I was trying to tell you before you left.”

Yoongi winces, sighing as he shakes his head, “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I just-” He glances towards you, a bit of apprehension in his eyes, “I’m not used to having someone around when shit like this goes down. I’m still really bad at relying on people and trusting them with my feelings. All I wanted to do was cry and, I didn’t want you to see that.”

Placing a hand on his, you attempt to lock eyes with him, “Yoongi, I’m your girlfriend. I love you and, I’m not just in this for the good times. I’m in this for the bad times too. I get that it’s your instinct to close yourself off and handle things yourself but, if you want support I’m always here for you.”

Yoongi pulls you in for a hug then, tucking his face into your neck. He takes a deep breath but, he says nothing.

He just holds you.

The silence is natural and holds no expectation.

You’d hug him all night if he needed you to.

Finally, Yoongi does speak and although he could pour his heart out to you right now, he decides to stick with the words that mean the most.

“I love you too.”

The two of you end up falling asleep together shortly after that.

Yoongi’s head is on your chest and the sensation of running your fingers through his hair is enough to lull you into a comfortable slumber.

Despite the stress of the day, you both sleep through the night.

Sleeping next to Yoongi brings you an immense amount of comfort.

It just feels right.

You wish you could sleep next to him every night.

The next morning when you awake, you realize very quickly that you’re alone.

Yoongi doesn’t appear to be anywhere in sight and in your slightly worried state, you decide to stumble out of bed to look for him.

“I can pick up for you if you want, you look like shit.”

“Thanks, that’s exactly what I wanna hear right now.”

“You know what I mean. Hyung, she’s not gonna care, I don’t know why you’re freaking out about this.”

“You don’t know that.”

“No I don’t but, it’s Y/N. She’s doesn’t come across as the judgmental type. I do think it’s kinda weird you haven’t told her yet though, that might be the only thing she’ll have an issue with...”

“That’s why I’m worried. I feel like after everything we’ve been through, I should have been able to tell her this by now...”

“Why haven’t you?”

“I don’t like talking about it.”

“The weed or your parents?”

“Both. I mean, I don’t know- the weed isn't that bad I guess but, I don’t want her to feel like I lied to her you know?”

“You didn’t lie. You guys just started dating. I’m sure there are plenty of things that you don’t know about her.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of- I feel like everything is always about me. I feel like I never ask about her...”

You know it’s wrong to eavesdrop but, you feel frozen in place, compelled by your own curiosity.

You have a million questions running through your head.

“I have to think about Sejin right now. I’ll smoke later on after I’ve had a chance to talk with her or something. I don’t know. She’s probably up right now, I should go check on her.”

“Take care Hyung, let me know if you need anything.”

Yoongi makes good on his plans to check on you and, thankfully you make it back to the bedroom before he realizes that you were listening in on his conversation.

The rest of the morning goes as planned.

After grabbing coffee, Yoongi heads to SoundCrowd to ensure that Sejin doesn’t have an eviction notice on his door.

He doesn’t say much on the drive there; he merely holds your hand tightly on the center console, occasionally brushing his thumb over the back of your knuckles.

It’s a little unnerving and the confrontational part of you wishes to break the silence but, you decide that now isn't really the time to bring up Yoongi’s conversation with Hoseok.

Thankfully, Sejin’s door remains free of an eviction notice and, Yoongi visibly lets out a sigh of relief at the sight.

You’re assuming the text he begins sending is to Sejin but, you don’t allow your gaze to linger long enough to find out.

Upon pulling away from the studio, he lets out a breathy sigh before finally speaking up

“What are you doing this weekend?”

You cock your head, “This weekend as in tomorrow? Or this weekend as in next weekend?”

Yoongi’s lips twitch at your question, “This weekend as in tomorrow.”

“I was just planning on getting everything ready for graduation. I have a tenant coming to look at my apartment in three weeks so I figured I should probably attempt to scrub the spaghetti stain off the back of the fridge...”

He chuckles warmly and shakes his head, “Aside from explaining how you managed to get spaghetti on the back of the fridge, I was wondering if you wanted to uh- go somewhere with me.”

“Somewhere as in?”

“Daegu.”

Your heart skips a beat then, wondering exactly what brought on his sudden invitation.

With parted lips, you attempt to answer him immediately but, your words fail you.

Yoongi’s teeth find a spot on his lower lip whilst he pulls out of his parking spot.

He can sense your confusion and he knows he can’t get away with asking you back to his hometown without an explanation.

“I need to go see my brother. He-” Yoongi sighs, glancing toward you, “He might be able to help Sejin if I let him know what’s going on.”

This only adds to your list of questions but, thankfully your brain hones in on the key part of this conversation:

“You want me to meet your brother?”

Yoongi hears the sincerity in your tone and it pulls his attention towards you.

“I do. If you’re comfortable with it, of course.”

Squeezing his hand a little tighter, you nod, a small smile forming on your lips, “I’m more than comfortable with it. I would love to meet your brother. When were you planning on leaving?”

Yoongi’s heart sings with your acceptance but, the only evidence of this is a small smile that emerges on his lips.

“I was gonna leave tomorrow. My brother has uh- he has miles on this airline I can use and, theres more than enough for you too. I know it’s last minute but-”

“I love last minute.” You cut him off, clasping your hands together, “I just need to go back to my apartment to pack and feed Marizpan. I’ll text Jimin and let him know that I’ll be gone this weekend. Does your brother like anything from our area? Should we bring him something?”

Yoongi’s raspy laughter fills the confines of the car as he shakes his head, “I should have known that you’d be down for this kind of thing. If I was in your position, I’d be having a heart attack right now.”

You smile at the sound of his laugh, “Oh I’m sure the panic will set in shortly. But honestly, I’m more focused on the fact that you want me to meet your brother. It means a lot to me that you want me there.”

He squeezes your hand again and, you take a moment to admire the way he looks while he’s driving. Messy black hair, eyes slightly puffy from all the emotion, lips in desperate need of chapstick (and a kiss) and, his long spindly fingers carefully handling the wheel.

He’s truly out of this world.

“It means a lot that you want to be there.” He retorts but, there is something amiss within his gaze and you can’t help but remember the conversation you overheard earlier.

There is a beat or two of silence before the two of you break it at the exact same time.

“There’s something I-”

“Hey I-”

“Wait you go first.”

“No, I’m sorry. You go...” You insist, your heartrate picking up uncomfortably in your chest.

Yoongi sighs, dark eyes flitting over to you once or twice before he seems to hyperfocus on the road in front of him.

“There’s something, well- there are a few things I need to tell you before we go.”

Upon glancing away from him and back towards the streets in front of you, you notice that he’s heading towards your apartment.

Part of you is glad that the two of you don’t have to separate for the duration of the weekend but, another (larger) part is very nervous about the information Yoongi has yet to share.

Yoongi takes your silence as an invitation to continue but, he doesn’t exactly know where to start.

“There’s kind of a lot that you don’t know about me. It’s nothing I’ve hid intentionally but, I was waiting until it made sense to tell you I guess...” He rakes a free hand through his hair before a rather noticeable tightness arrests his features, “My brother is the only member of my family I still talk to but, it’s not just because they don’t approve of my music.”

You keep your hand firmly entangled with his and with the slight shift in his tone, you reassuringly thumb over his knuckles.

“Uh it’s kind of a lot to explain but- um...” His mouth hangs open as he hesitates between words. Despite the fact that you’re 2 minutes from your apartment, Yoongi looks eagerly at an alleyway, “I’m sorry, do you care if I pull over? I don’t think I can talk about this while I’m driving and, I just really need to get this out because, I’m kind of scared that you’re going to be mad at me and I-”

“Hey- hey...Yoongi it’s ok.You can pull over baby, there’s an alley right here.” You turn in your seat so you can get a proper look at him as he quickly zooms between the ramen shop and the liquor store.

You’ve never seen him look so nervous before and, it’s starting to freak you out a little bit.

He attempts to draw in a shaky breath through his nose as he hastily puts his car in park. For a moment, he seems to gather his thoughts, lips pursing in contemplation whilst he wipes a hand over his face.

At last, he turns slightly to unbuckle his seatbelt before he finally allows his eyes to flit to your face.

You shift again so you’re mostly turned towards him and squeeze his hand once more to encourage him to continue.

“My parents didn’t just kick me out because they found out I was doing music. They kicked me out because I refused to join the family business-” He gathers the courage to look you dead in the eye because, despite his fear, he knows you deserve that level of respect, “and the family business is the within the largest criminal empire Daegu has ever seen.”

Your heart seems to stall in your chest then, your throat drying up with shock as you attempt to take in what he’s saying.

He brings your hand closer to him, wishing desperately that he could guarantee your presence after his explanation.

But he knows he can’t.

“My parents run a counterfeit operation that basically operates as a gang. They don’t call themselves that but that’s what it is. They produce fake currency, participate in insider trading, they steal, they lie, they’ve-” He swallows, subconciously bringing your hand closer to him once again, “-killed. When I turned 15, my father told me that I’d have to start training to take over but, after everything I had seen. I knew I didn’t want to.”

“When I told you my parents kicked me out, I wasn’t lying but, I didn’t exactly tell you the whole story. I told you that when they found my lyrics, they freaked out on me, which they did but, it was only after they had spent 6 months trying to bribe me into training.” He licks his lips, his eyes still trained on you as they try and decipher the thoughts running through your head. The truth is, your mind is completely blank at the moment.

“They bought me everything I wanted: cars, clothes, jewelry, they had another wing added to our house for me; they tried everything. I was considering it for a while, my parents didn’t start their operations until I was 9 or 10. I spent the first decade of my life in poverty until things began to turn around. At the time, I didn’t know why but, I figured it out when I was starting high school. My parents had gone insane with power. They got my entire family involved, even my brother. I didn’t blame them at the time; we were so poor our whole life and then suddenly we were rich. I didn’t want it to end but, then I realized- what the cost of our wealth really was.” Yoongi’s a bit breathless as the words just seem to tumble off of his tongue but, he’s unsure how coherent he really sounds.

Nevertheless, he continues.

He wants to get it over with already.

“One night, when I was sneaking back in through the front gates, I heard something that would solidify my choice.” Yoongi swallows, his hand tightening almost painfully within yours, “My parents must have been on the phone with one of their allies or something but all I heard was a direct order coming from my father ‘kill them all’ he said, ‘every single one of them.’ The next day when I woke up, my brother was shoving his phone in my face. It was a news article about a homicide in another district. I wanted to throw up. I knew it was them. He knew too. We shared this pain between us but, unlike my brother. I couldn’t keep quiet anymore. I had to say something.” His voice is growing unsteady with every passing word and although you have a million questions, all you want him to know is that you’re still here.

“When I confronted my father, he went crazy on me. He had been up for a few days, probably strung out on something and, he beat the shit out of me. That’s when he destroyed my lyrics. He left everything else untouched but my laptop and my pages. He wanted to hurt me in any way he could because, he knew that I wasn’t going to follow in his footsteps. He told me I should be ashamed of myself for accusing them of being involved with the murder but, Y/N-” He’s voice his hoarse now, his sad eyes lined red with emotion as he shoots a desperate look towards you, “It had to be them. It’s the only thing that made sense. After he was finished with me, he told me I had a choice. He said ‘Yoongi, you can either stay here and start contributing to this family or you can disappear with nothing but the clothes on your back.’ So I made my choice. I lived on the streets for awhile until my brother found me one night, he told me about Sejin and tried to set me up with some money but, I wouldn’t take anything from him. Every bit of money my family has, has blood on it. I accepted his offer to live at Sejin’s place and, every thing else I already told you that night at my studio but, I didn’t know how to tell you all of this...I tried to put it all behind me for so long but, now that Sejin is in trouble- I have to go back. My brother left the business too but, he took money with him. He’s loaded and, I know if he knew about Sejin, he’d want to help out. I don’t know- fuck please just tell me what you’re thinking. I know you’re probably mad at me and that’s completely ok- I just didn’t know how to tell you...”

You are honestly shocked by Yoongi’s confession but, you can’t say that you’re mad at him.

You understand that this extremely complicated.

You don’t think you’d necessarily want to share it either.

Looking at your boyfriend now, your heart breaks.

His expression is akin to a man completely torn apart. He looks lost, broken, frightened: everything you don’t want him to be.

You do what comes naturally because, words are not appropriate right now.

Dropping his hand intially alarms him but, when you lean across the center console to pull him against your chest, he can’t help but break down.

He cries.

No, he doesn’t cry- he sobs.

His hands come up to cling to you, the tension in his grip signifying that he’s desperately afraid of letting you go.

With each rigged intake of breath, Yoongi seems to cry harder into your neck, staining the color of your shirt with his tears.

“My life was so miserable Y/N. I didn’t know how to tell you how bad it was- my whole life. I’m sorry I was such a coward. I’m so sorry I- I didn’t know how to say it. I just wanted you to think I was normal.” He cries and with every word, you hold him tighter.

With every word, your heart breaks.

“You are not a coward Min Yoongi. You are the strongest person I know.” You whisper into his ear, teary eyed yourself as you do your best to hold it together.

“I’m so sorry jagiya...” Yoongi cries, his voice nearly dropping to a whisper, the nape of his neck slick with sweat due to the anxiety he feels.

He is still so terrified of losing you.

“You have nothing to be sorry for- look at me...” You command softly, guiding his face out of your neck and cupping it between your palms, “None of this is your fault. I understand why you wouldn’t want to tell me. This is a lot to take in but, baby this isn’t your burden to bear. You aren’t responsible for the choices your parents have made...”

“I don’t come from a good life Y/N. I come from such a horrible family. My family never showed me love, they never showed eachother love. They are bad people and, you deserve more than a man who comes from that. You deserve someone who has a normal family. You deserve more than me...”

“Yoongi, listen to me right now. You are the most incredible man I have ever met. You are smart and brave and selfless and clever and kind and so so special and, I’m not going to sit here and listen to you punish yourself for your parent’s mistakes. They had a beautiful son that they neglected. They created this warped version of yourself that apparently doesn’t deserve love and happiness but that’s bullshit ok?” You’re crying too now because, you want to drive this point home, you want him to know the truth, and believe it.

Everything starts to make sense now.

Yoongi resists affection because he doesn’t think he deserves it.

He’s denied himself happiness so long because, he doesn’t think he’s worth the trouble.

You need him to know that he is.

He’s worth so much more than he realizes.

“It’s such bullshit...” You repeat, kissing between his eyes which still flow steadily with tears, his breathing is still so uneven but, he’s hanging on every word you say, “You deserve everything you want. You deserve to be loved. I’m so sorry you had to live like that. I’m so sorry that they never told you how incredible you are but, that doesn’t make it any less true.”

His face crumbles under the weight of your words, his hands coming up to brush against the outside of yours, “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. It wasn’t intentional, you just made me forget how things used to be. I just wanted to pretend like it never happened.”

You understand that.

There are things in your life that you wish you could forget.

Yoongi eases so much of your troubles that you could empathize with his decision to brush all of this under the rug.

You’ve both been basking in the warm glow of your first love that it was easy to forget what life was like before one another.

But it doesn’t mean it never happened.

“The last I heard, my parents had slowed down a bit. They told my brother that they were starting to liquify their assets. I guess he’s getting quite a bit of money from that. It seemed less important when he told me that. I felt like maybe I could just move on but, I realized when I started dating you how much of it really stuck with me. Plus, I felt like I was lying to you. I never want to make you feel like I’m hiding things from you. The only other people that know about this are Namjoon and Hoseok and, Hoseok found out cause he overheard Namjoon and I talking about it.”

You lean forward once again to place a kiss between his eyes before pulling him back into your arms.

“I hear you. You’re not wrong for waiting to tell me. I’m just sorry you had to deal with all of this internal struggle. I think we forget that we’ve only been dating a few months because of how quickly we fell for eachother. There are things you don’t know about me too you know? Nothing as intense as being the offspring of two criminal masterminds buuuuut you know, still...”

Your attempt to slowly lighten the mood works as a small chuckle is felt within the crook of your neck along with the pinching of your hips.

“I want to know everything about you.” He murmurs, wrapping his arms around your waist.

Kissing the side of his head, you smile, “It’s a good thing we have so much time then.”

This finally prompts a smile to appear on his face and, although you can’t see it, you can feel it.

“I love you so much.” Yoongi whispers, placing a kiss on the side of your neck

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

The two of you head back to Yoongi’s house shortly after you pack your things.

Yoongi doesn’t leave your side the entire time, other than to use your bathroom to wash his face and even then, he leaves the door open the whole time.

After your bags are ready to go, the two of you decide that staying at Yoongi’s place is best since he leaves a little closer to the airport.

Yoongi booked your flight whilst you were packing and managed to find a flight leaving at 1:20pm the next day.

He didn’t even look at earlier flights because, there is no way he’s getting up before 9am tomorrow, especially not after everything that’s happened today.

It’s not long before Yoongi is unlocking his front door and as he does, something new graces your senses.

It’s an unmistakeable smell and, immediately Yoongi’s eyes widen as he takes his first breath.

“Yah Hoseok?? Why does it smell like shit in my house?” Yoongi calls and leads you toward the living room.

“I told you I was picking up, and that smell is the sign I got the good shit! Come hit this hyung, its fucking gooood.” Hoseok calls back and immediately you start giggling

“Yeah Yoongi, go hit that.” You tease, his earlier conversation with Hoseok making a lot more sense now, “I didn’t know you smoked weed...”

“Did you tell your girlfriend yet or what?” Hoseok calls again and Yoongi’s cheeks are practically on fire at this point as he braves a glance towards you.

“No but you just did pabo...” Yoongi grumbles as he finally leads the two of you into the living room.

Hoseok and Namjoon are spread out on the couch, there eyes completely bloodshot, heavy with the evidence that they had been smoking for awhile. Namjoon chuckles lowly and shakes his head, “Yah, you’re so fucking loud. How do you have the energy to yell after how much we just smoked?” Namjoon smiles pleasantly at you, raising a hand politely, “Hi, Y/N. How are you?”

You smirk, putting your arm around Yoongi’s shoulders, “Hi guys. I’m good, I’d ask how the two of you were doing but, I think I have my answer.”

Yoongi groans before turning towards you quickly, tugging you so your body is pressed against his, “I was gonna tell you too but-”

“Before he starts groveling at your feet,” Namjoon interrupts, “He stopped smoking when he realized he liked you. He hasn’t done anything since because, he was worried that you wouldn’t like it. He was planning on telling you when he asked you to be his girlfriend, which was literally like a week ago so, I’m sure he was gonna tell you soon. But to answer your question, yes your boyfriend smokes weed. A lot of weed.”

Yoongi anxiously scans your face for any sign of disapproval but, all he gets is a tilted chin a kiss on his lips.

“Wow, you’re cute.”

He furrows his brows, “You’re not mad?”

You giggle as you shake your head, gesturing to the couch, “Yoongi, you’ve met my friends. Taehyung and Jungkook might as well change their names to Jay and Silent Bob...”

“Yooo that’s what I always say about Yoongi and I!” Hoseok cackles, as he points at you, the sound of his voice causing Namjoon to wince.

“Hoseok-ah, lower your voice, you’re ruining my high.” He chuckles before nodding to the table, “See? There you go Hyung, now come over here and smoke this shit with us, you look like you need it.”

Yoongi looks relieved but, he’s still apprehensive, “You promise you’re cool with it? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable...”

Another giggle leaves you lips as you start tugging him towards the couch, setting your bag on the kitchen counter, “It’s really sweet that you’ve considered my feelings in all of this but, smoking weed isn’t a big deal to me. My family smokes all the time. It’s just not for me because, I have baby lungs but, I have no issue with you smoking it.”

“Yahhh that’s good shit right there, see hyung? I told you she’d be chill with it. Now come sit down, I’ll pack a bowl for you.” Hoseok smiles, finally heeding Namjoon’s request and lowering his voice.

A small smile is on your boyfriend’s lips then as he looks towards you once again, “Love you...” He mumbles before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You nestle into the corner of their couch whilst Hoseok thoughtfully packs the clusters of weed into a solid black, glass pipe.

“Is that my piece?” Yoongi asks with an arched brow and Hoseok merely shrugs

“You havent been using it and this shit was expensive so Joon and I snagged it from you. You can have it back if you’re gonna start smoking again but other than that, I’m keeping it.”

“You can’t keep it, that was his birthday present.” Namjoon grumbles, playfully hitting Hoseok’s thigh.

Yoongi licks his lips as takes a spot next you, mindlessly rubbing his hand over your bended knee, “I want it either way. Don’t take my shit.” He smirks before jerking his head to the pipe, “Let me see it, you’re not packing it right.”

“Right? That’s what I’m saying, he packs it too thin!” Namjoon exclaims, his hand resting on his stomach

“Fuck off, if I pack it so thin, why are you stoned out of your mind right now?”

Namjoon chuckles again, tilting his head in agreement, “Because I haven’t smoked in awhile either, med school fucked my tolerance up.”

Namjoon and Hoseok’s dialogue seems to fade in the background as your attentions hones in on Yoongi.

His black hair is falling in his face while he tries to save the “poor” job Hoseok was doing. He has his tongue poking between his lips whilst he concentrates, his fingers delicately working the weed where he feels it belongs.

He keeps twitching his nose and jerking his head to the side, trying to get his hair out of his face until finally you reach out and tuck the strand behind his ear.

Yoongi instantly grins as you do and turns to the side and playfully snaps his teeth at your fingers.

“Heyyy, I’m trying to help you...” You giggle, “I don’t want you to smoke your hair.”

“I got this.” He assures you before timid eyes land on you once more, “Are you sure you’re good with this?”

“I promise.” You assure him for the millionth time before reaching towards the coffee table to hand him a lighter, “Here.”

Yoongi smirks shyly as he mumbles a thank you before raising the pipe to his lips.

He raises the lighter to the nest of green positioned to his liking before using his thumb to set it on fire. As he inhales deeply, his eyes flutter shut while his chest puffs out with the force of his breath.

Within 10 seconds or so, he’s pulling away, pausing for a second before exhaling a thick cloud of smoke.

“Fuck me...” He chuckle deeply, smoke still rushing out of his lips, “That is good shit. Who did you pick up from?”

“Right?” Hoseok laughs, flopping back against the couch, “It’s one of Jin’s friends, he started growing recently so, I wanted to help him get started. I need to tell him to keep doing what he’s doing.”

Yoongi just nods before using the butt of the lighter to press the bud down. Within a few seconds, he’s lighting up again, the hair you tucked behind his ear quickly falling in his face again.

You really can’t help yourself.

You feel like a such a cliché right now but, there is something so hot about watching Yoongi smoke.

He looks like every bad boy in every single shitty romance novel and, god you can’t help but press your thighs together at the sight.

Yoongi tilts his head back, exposing the long column of his throat as he exhales another hit, a smirk hanging on the end of lips.

His adams apple bobs as he swallows back a cough before slumping against the cushions.

“Here-” He hands the pipe back to Hoseok, “I think I’m good right now, it’s already kicking in.”

You’re practically drooling at the sight of your boyfriend right now but, you don’t want to be too obvious.

Between Namjoon’s observation skills and Hoseok’s bluntness, you’re doomed to be called out if you don’t reign it in.

“I told you hyung, this guy is the new plug. Y/N...” Hoseok holds the pipe up, “Are you sure you don’t want any?”

“No I-” Your voice comes out awfully squeaky and it immediately causes Yoongi to turn his head towards you. Clearing your throat, you continue, “No, I’m good thank you. Can I have some water though? My throat is really dry.”

Yoongi shoots up immediately, “Shit jagi, I’m sorry. I didn’t offer you anything. I’ll get it right now. You sure you want water? I can make you a drink or we have gatorade and some sprite too.”

His eyes are definitely heavier with the slightest tint of red but, they still hold the same bit of attentiveness they always do.

“Water is good babe, thank you.”

Hoseok grins, “Whiiiippppeeeddddd.” He slurs and Namjoon chuckles but, otherwise keeps quiet.

Yoongi merely smirks before heading over to the kitchen to get you a bottle of water.

“You’re being too informal.” He admonishes, still smirking as his face is illuminated by the light from the fridge, “Just one jagi?”

He holds up a bottle of water, his eyes holding a bit more sweetness as he directs his attention towards you.

“One is perfect.” You giggle at their banter, tucking yourself further into the couch, already wishing for Yoongi to be back beside you.

“One is perfect babyyyy...” Hoseok cackles again, the effects of the weed likely increasing his usual nature.

“Shut up.” You laugh again, smacking his shoulder lightly.

“Yah hyung! Your girlfriend is over here smacking me around!” Hoseok yells again despite the fact that Yoongi is literally in the same room.

“Hoseok-ahhhhhh...” Namjoon whines, putting a pillow over his face, “Stop yelling bro, it’s too fucking loud.”

Hoseok is still giggling, despite his hyung’s warnings as Yoongi finally returns from the kitchen.

“Seriously...” He mumbles in agreement as he hands you the water but, as you reach out to take it, he slumps beside you and takes your wrist in his hand,lowering his tone, “Yah, I’m the only one you should be smacking around yeah?”

His eyes are hooded, his lips still upturned in a smirk as he unscrews the cap for you, holding it out to your lips, “Here’s your water jagiya...”

For once, you’re a little speechless but, you take his offer anyway, securing your lips around the water bottle.

His eyes linger as you take a few sips from it before he screws the cap back on for you, setting back on the coffee table.

“You’re bad.” You giggle, impressed by Yoongi’s boldness

He just grins, cat-like as ever, and lays his head in your lap, subtly nuzzling against your thigh.

“This shit is going to put your boyfriend to sleep, Y/N so be prepared to carry his ass off to bed in a bit.” Namjoon comments, smirking almost fondly at his hyung.

“I’m prepared.” You snicker and, just like Yoongi, you lower your voice to a volume just for him, “I thought putting you to sleep was my job?”

With your teasing question, you run your fingers through his hair and much to your delight, a shiver runs down his spine.

He nuzzles further into your thigh, his hand gripping the outside of it whilst he replies, “It still is.”

It’s all he can muster up for now but, you don’t miss the glint in his eyes before they flutter shut.

The TV has been on since you’ve arrived but Hoseok finally changes the channel and, you continue you running your digits through your boyfriends silky locks.

This goes on for quite some time until your touch begins to have an unexpected effect on your boyfriend’s resolve.

Having you play with his hair when he’s sober is amazing/comforting but, it’s intensified due to his intoxication and the sensations are turning him on.

It’s not long until you both end up in his bedroom and as soon as he shuts the door, he’s pressing you up against it.

With a dark chuckle, he’s kissing at your mouth, taking a deep breath as he allows his hands to explore your body.

“God you really know how to get my dick hard don’t you?”

You laugh into his lips, kissing him back eagerly as your hands push his jacket off of his shoulders, “Is your dick hard right now?”

It’s a bullshit question.

You already know he’s hard.

You could tell by the way he walked you awkwardly into his room.

“I don’t know-” He teases, pressing his hips against yours, allowing you to feel the tightness in his jeans, “What do you think?”

Your mouth waters at the feeling of him, your hand quickly travelling down to rub over his dick.

“Fuck-” Yoongi hisses, his head falling forward onto your shoulder.

“You feel hard to me.” You whisper in his ear, nibbling on the shell of it, enjoying the way he trembles for you.

“I’m so sensitive right now- jesus christ.” He mutters, mostly to himself before kissing up your neck.

With his hips pressed to your hand, he brings his heavy gaze to yours, a smirk crawling it’s way onto his lips, “Is this ready for me right now?” He practically coos, sliding his hand from your hip to the ache between your legs, cupping your pussy.

After the past few days he’s had, you don’t have the urge to tease him.

All you want to do is fuck his brains out.

“Mhm...” You hum, kissing at his lips as you slowly begin to back him up towards the bed. “Right now.”

“Yeah?” He chuckles again, his eyes heavier due to the lust and the weed coursing through his body, “Will you come ride this dick for me then?”

Whilst the two of you are talking, you’re tugging at one another’s clothes and, the next thing you know it; you’re both laying naked on Yoongi’s bed.

He’s big hands slide up the outside of your thighs, squeezing roughly once they get to your ask before he continues his verbal assault on your sanity.

“I’m so fucking hard right now. I’m gonna give you so much baby. I’m gonna fill it up until it drips all over my sheets...”

This shit is hitting different.

Yoongi’s never spoken like this before and you’d be lying if you said it set you on fire.

When his head hits the pillow, the onyx tendrils on his head splay messily across the pillowcase.

Licking your lips, you slide your hands up your body, caressing your breasts, brushing your sex along Yoongi’s twitching dick.

“Oh my god, look at you. You’re so fucking pretty c’mere...” He groans, ushering you back down to his lips, kissing you tenderly, “You gon’ ride this dick for me baby? Let me into this pretty pussy of yours?”

“Uh-huh...” You grunt, sucking on his bottom lip, bracing your hands on either side of his head, “I wanna make you cum so hard...”

“Oh jagiyaaa...” He laughs and its that rickety, almost evil kind of laughter that you find so attractive, “That’s the only way you’ve ever made me cum. Your baby is sensitive when he’s high though, so you gotta be careful or I’m gonna cum before you’ve even started...”

Jesus christ.

“You want it gentle then?”

“Nah. I want you to ride it how you want to. It’s your dick isn’t it? You take care of it how you see fit. I just wanna watch and cum inside you.”

His words snap something inside of you and, before you know it, you’re sinking down on his throbbing dick.

Yoongi grins as soon as he feels you, his hands immediately taking purchase on your hips.

“Oh shit, that’s it...” Yoongi’s whimpering but its low and slow and, it fills you with more motivation.

You lean down, brushing your mouth against his, nibbling on the plump flesh of his bottom lip.

“Good?” You whisper as your hands dig into the pillow beside his head.

His dick is made for you, you’re certain of it.

It curves perfectly against the spot inside of you that immediately seems to make you sick with pleasure.

Yoongi's lopsided smirk has yet to fade but he eagerly presses his lips to yours, his hands coming up to secure your face.

He just nods before sliding his tongue into your mouth, brushing slowly against the side of your own, his hips pumping up along with the rhythm you’ve set.

Throughout your lust-driven haze, you feel him pull away, his hand still cupping your cheek.

“This pussy is good. I swear to god, it’s gonna make me lose my shit. Fu-fuck me...” He stutters when you bottom out on him again, your walls fluttering around him sinfully,

He shoots a pleading look your way but, he’s rendered speechless as you increase your pace on him.

“I love when you’re inside of me.” You say because its’ the truth and you never get tired of telling him, “I love when you cum inside of me. You’re the only one who makes me feel this way.”

Yoongi’s mouth parts in awe, his moan getting caught at the back of his throat as his gaze flits eagerly between your thighs.

“Mine...” Yoongi croons in Korean, unable to conjure up a coherent thought.

You know this word though and, you’re prepared with a reponse.

“Yours.” You kiss him again, locking eyes with him once more, “Forever.”

That’s enough to break him.

He’s cumming hard inside of you now, rope after rope of his release painting every inch he can reach, his body tightening with the force of his orgasm.

In spite of his current state, he still manages to rub your clit whilst you chase your own high, confessing his love for you over and over again until the two of you are completely spent.

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

Later on that evening, the two of you decide to sit in the backyard around the fire pit and snuggle up under one of Yoongi’s many throw blankets, relishing in one another.

Pressing a kiss to the backs of your knuckles, Yoongi murmurs some of the things he’s always too afraid to say.

“I hope you know how much you mean to me. I know that things aren’t always easy with me and, I hope that after today, you can understand why. But, I still hope you know...how much I love you.”

His words send butterflies into your stomach as you snuggle closer to him, “I’ve never felt more loved than when I’m with you, Yoongi, even if you don’t say anything. I know.” You kiss his check before tilting his face towards yours, “And I hope, even when you’re having a tough day or a tough week, you know that I have your back. I hope you never have to feel alone or unloved ever again. Because I’ll always be here for you and, I’ll always love you.”

He smiles, gums and all before surging forward to kiss you, his hands delicately brushing against your cheeks.

“Angel.”

It’s all he whispers before kissing you again, pouring his love into each of his movements.

You want to argue with him; you want to tell him that he’s the angel but, instead you smile into his lips as you always do, and just kiss him.

Yoongi decides in that moment that he doesn’t have to do life alone anymore.

He decides that he’s found his team member.

His partner.

His lover.

His soulmate.

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mistersshelby · 4 years

Text

mosley knew nothing | pt. one

i’ve thought a lot about the way season five ended and i’ve thought a lot about the kind of man oswald mosley is portrayed to be in the series and i started to wonder about how tommy had no idea who had betrayed him and so i wrote about it!

some scenes/partial dialogue/plot points have been borrowed from season five. this is the first part, i only imagine i would need one more part to wrap it up. i hope you like it!!! let me know what you think!!

warnings: physical abuse

masterlist

questions, comments, concerns

“Darling,” You perked up at the sound of Oswald’s voice calling through the house to you, “I need to speak with you.” He says when he hangs his coat up and spots you sitting in the armchair by the fire.

You place your book down and rise to greet him, pressing your palms flat against his chest as you look up at him, “What is it?”

He graces you with a small smile and then leans down to give you a chaste peck on the lips before pushing you aside. You try not to show your disappointment.

“I have… a political… mission for you.”

You frown, “Darling, you know I’m no good at politics.”

He smacks a book down on the coffee table and you flinch, “What did I tell you about speaking like a commoner? If you want to be my wife you must speak properly! Now, say it again, right this time.”

You clasped your hands behind your back in the hopes he wouldn’t notice the way they were shaking, “Darling,” You start and swallow, “How could I ever be of service to you in politics when my talents lie elsewhere?”

He stares at you for a moment before lowering his gaze, “Much better.” He clears his throat, “It is true you know nothing of politics, but that won’t matter, my dear. You have a pretty face, that is all I need.” You wanted to interject here to ask what he meant, but were too afraid to anger him again so you held your tongue and waited for him to elaborate. “You remember when I have spoken of Thomas Shelby, yes?”

The name rang a bell, you knew he was someone in politics that Oswald could never tell if he could trust or not, but that was the most you could recall. You nodded, “Yes.”

“I believe he is trying to plan my murder.”

You frowned, your mouth opened a bit and shock, “What? Why would he--?”

“He’s a gangster, darling. He would have no trouble killing me with his bare hands. However, he’s also a politician now so he wouldn’t risk executing it himself. He will have some sort of elaborate plan in place to look like he wasn’t involved at all.”

“And… Why would you need me?”

He smiled and rose from where he was sitting, cupping your face in his hands. He was so gentle, so loving sometimes, you wished nothing more than to melt into him. It was moments like these you knew you would do anything he asked of you. “Shelby Company Limited has an opening for a personal assistant. Mr. Shelby will hire you, having no idea who you are, and then you will seduce him and find out his plans.”

You very nearly shoved him away, but instead your body just tensed. Oswald brushed a thumb against your cheek, “Now, now, darling, I know you are loyal to me and this is an absolutely repulsive request. I would not ask it of you if it were not imperative to my survival. You are my only hope.”

You looked up into this man’s eyes and saw your whole future. How could you ever refuse him when the alternative was losing him forever? “I will do it for you, Oswald. Anything for you.”

His smile spread across his face and he pulled you closer to his chest, “I hoped you would say that.”

***

“What did you say your name was again?” Thomas sat down behind his desk across from you, a lit cigarette between his fingers. He looked agonizingly bored.

“Y/F/N Y/L/N, sir. If you look at my resume you’ll see I can help you with many things. I’ve had experience with child care and secretarial work. I’m very good at recording minutes at meetings and other transcripts, I--”

“That’s fine, you’re hired.”

You blinked in surprise, “Oh, I, really?”

“Yeah, you can start by going to keep my children entertained.”

You sat there, sort of stunned for a few more moments before getting the hint that you were dismissed and leaving. You did play with the children and they were lovely, but you still couldn’t understand the way Mister Shelby had hired you so easily.

The children were playing a game with you when they suddenly got quiet and a shadow loomed from behind you. “Y/N, come with me.”

You stood and followed him out, whispering discreet goodbyes to the children who couldn’t hide their smiles from you.

“My children seem to have taken a liking to you.” He started as you left the room.

You nodded, “Yes, and I to them. They’re darling.”

“Do you know who I am, Y/N?”

You frown, “Everyone in Birmingham knows who you are, Mr. Shelby.”

“So why would a bright young woman like you want to work for me?”

Bright? You had never really thought of yourself as smart. Oswald certainly didn’t think you were smart. “I’m unmarried and childless, I need a job.” You shrug, “That’s all.”

“Are you worried the job will be dangerous?”

You frowned, “The job description in the ad didn’t seem to be very dangerous.”

“Sometimes… Sometimes being my assistant could be dangerous. Are you okay with that?”

Oswald hadn’t given you much of a choice, but you couldn’t deny the fear that chilled your heart as his words, “That’s alright, Mr. Shelby, I understand.”

“You can call me Tommy.” He said and for the first time you looked directly into his eyes. They were ice blue, but strangely felt warm. You expected to see the coldness you saw in Oswald’s eyes, only worse, but there was kindness in Tommy’s eyes. Kindness and a lot of pain.

You nod, “Okay… Tommy.”

There’s the barest trace of amusement on his face, “Go home then, I’ll see you back here in the morning.”

***

The next few weeks you had more fun than you had in years working with Tommy. He was never cruel to you, always praising you and making you feel like you were important.

“Y/N,” Tommy started one day when you came into his office, “There have been rumors that the nuns who run the orphanage my wife’s foundation donates to have been abusing the children. Just last week a black child hung herself, the other children have said it was for fear of the nuns.”

You shook your head, “That’s terrible.”

“Yes,” Tommy agreed, “Which is why I need you to go and record official testimony from the children so I have proof.”

You raised your eyebrows, “Me? By myself? Tommy, I--”

“You’re smart and capable and wonderful with children. They’ll talk to you. If I went with you it would only make them afraid.” You looked down at your lap doubtfully, “Hey,” Tommy said and your eyes snapped back to his, “I trust you. You can do this.”

It was moments like these that you had to remind yourself that this man wanted Oswald dead. “Okay.” You agreed, “Why are you doing this, though? For your image?”

He frowned at you, “No, I’m doing this because children are suffering and I don’t want to turn a blind eye. I know what it feels like to be a helpless child.”

You couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that this was the man Oswald insisted killed for sport, wanted him murdered. And yet, he’d protect children who weren’t his kin? “Okay.” You agreed, “I’ll go tomorrow.”

***

“What is the bastard making you do there all day?” Oswald asked one evening as you were putting dinner on the table, “Bury the bodies of men he kills?”

You were growing annoyed at Oswald’s criticisms of Tommy. You knew you ought to hate Shelby, but really, did he think Tommy was really killing people all the time? “No, Oswald, I’ve told you already. Tommy has only made me do incredibly normal things, like take notes at meetings and play with his children. Sometimes go pick up a package from a shop. Nothing illegal.”

“Tommy?” He mocked you, “Sounds like the two of you are getting awful close.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted, dear fiancé?” You can’t help the lilt of your words, the sarcasm drenching the whole sentence.

He’s across the table in an instant, hand clenched around your throat. You gasp for air, he’s close enough that you can smell the vodka on his breath. He’s drunk. You claw at his hands, but they only tighten, white spots dot the edge of your vision, “I am growing tired of your disrespectful tone, darling. Speak that way to me again and I will do much worse.”

When he lets go you fall to the floor, hands clutching your neck and tears pricking at your eyes. Oswald laughs at you and goes to pour himself another drink. Your hands shake as you serve him dinner and you don’t speak again that evening except for occasional “Yes, darling.” and “No, darling.”

***

“Y/N?” Tommy frowns as you walk into his office, “I thought you were going straight to the orphanage this morning.”

You pulled your collar up high around your neck, conscious of the hand shaped bruises you wore like a necklace, “Realized I forgot a notebook to record the testimony.” You said quietly, “I’ll be out of your hair in a moment.”

You’re conscious of his eyes on you as you walk around the room and think he must notice something is off with you, but he says nothing. You say nothing. And then you leave.

The orphanage takes up the majority of your day as you must first gain the trust of the children before they’re willing to tell you anything. You went in under the guise of a doctor, wanting to make sure they were all okay and the nuns didn’t seem to question it.

By the time you leave it’s late afternoon and you feel emotionally drained from the devastating accounts of the children who, according to them, were beat and psychologically tortured by the nuns daily.

“I’ll warn you,” You say as you collapse in the chair across from Tommy’s desk and slide your notes toward him, “It’s disgusting.”

He silently opens the notebook and reads a few pages before placing it down again, “Thank you. I’ll take care of it.”

You nod and stand to leave, “Who gave you those bruises on your neck?” He interjects suddenly and you nearly fall over.

“It’s nothing,” You say quickly and pull your collar around your neck again, “I should be going.”

“You work for me.” He says as you hurriedly walk to the door, nearly tripping over your own feet, “If someone is hurting you I can take care of it.”

You freeze with your hand on the doorknob and look down at your feet. The whole reason you were here was to find out how he planned to kill Oswald. And here he was. Unknowingly volunteering to kill Oswald. It was almost humorous. “Goodnight, Tommy.” You said finally and walked out the door.

***

“I’m sorry if I overstepped yesterday.” You snap your head up at the sound of Tommy’s voice who’s standing at the end of your desk.

“It’s alright,” You said, “I’d rather not talk about it.”

“I just wanted you to know that I could help you. If you wanted.”

He just wants an excuse to kill someone. You thought to yourself, he doesn’t care about you. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He stands there for another moment and then takes out a cigarette, “I’d like you to stay for dinner tonight. To thank you for your work at the orphanage. Also, it’s Ruby’s birthday and she’s requested that you be there.”

You smile, Ruby was a delight. You supposed this would also be a good opportunity to try and get more information out of Tommy. “I’d like that.”

***

Tommy’s wife is also at dinner and you wonder if this will hinder your chances of getting close with Tommy. She seems suspicious of you, faking smiles and pleasantries when Ruby jumps in your arms. She quickly scolds Ruby and tells her not to ruin her new dress.

Dinner is uneventful and mostly silent except when you sneak funny faces at Ruby and Charles, smiling to yourself when they dissolve in giggles. After dinner, Tommy asks you to take a walk with him outside and Lizzie can barely hide her disgust as she storms away, leaving the children to the maid.

“When Charles’s mother died this place stopped being a home.” He said as you walked quietly in the light of dusk. “Lizzie… Lizzie was happy when she got pregnant with Ruby, but not because she wanted to be a mother, but because she knew it would give her what she always wanted: me. But she’s not a good mother.”

You frowned, unsure why he was telling you this, “The children love Lizzie, they talk about her all the time.”

“Only because she is the only mother they’ve ever known. But then you come along and… I’ve never seen them as happy as when they’re with you.”

You offer him a half smile, “They’ve made me happier than I’ve been in a long time.” You say, and it’s true.

He nods and is silent for a moment, seemingly hesitating to say whatever he wants to say next, “Tell me who is hurting you so I can stop it. If only to spare my children the heartache if you turn up dead.”

You stop and turn to him, mouth falling open, “Tommy, I’m fine. I promise you I’m not in any danger.”

“A man who would put his hands on a woman will only feel gratification if she dies at his hand.” You’ve reached the stables now and Tommy has turned to face you. Your back brushes against the wall of the stable and Tommy is standing very close to you.

You shake your head, “He wouldn’t.” But your voice falters and you both know you’re lying.

Tommy moves to brush the back of his hand against your cheek, but you flinch at the movement and he drops it back down. You regret it instantly, realizing that you want him to touch you. Thoughts of Oswald and why you’re really here leave your mind and you take a step closer to him. He doesn’t back away. You rise on your tiptoes, you can feel your heart beating in your throat as your lips slowly inch closer to his--

“Mister Shelby?”

You reel back, slamming yourself into the stable wall behind you. Tommy, unfazed, turns around to see one of his staff standing behind him, “What is it?”

“Mister Churchill is at the house, sir, he demands an audience with you.”

Tommy raises his eyebrows, “Oh, does he?” He looks back at you and then sighs, “Set him up in my office, I’ll head back in a moment.”

“Winston Churchill? What would he want with you?”

The corner of Tommy’s mouth quirks up, “You know, for once, I have no idea.” He stares at your mouth for a moment too long before turning away and walking back to the house. You quickly walk after him, head still reeling from your almost-kiss.

You were engaged to Oswald, you loved Oswald, Tommy wanted Oswald dead. But still, you couldn’t deny the way your heart pulled to Tommy. It made you feel sick.

“Would you like to stay the night?” He asked when you had gotten close to the house.

You blinked at him, appalled, “What?”

“No, I don’t mean… It’s late, you can stay in a guest room. I’ll have someone make it up for you. Unless…” He eyed your neck and you fought not to cover it up, “Unless it would be worse for you to not go home.”

You should go home, but… What if what he talks to Churchill about is important? Oswald will understand. You needed to save him. You were most likely running out of time. “A bed to sleep in would be nice.”

He nods and opens the door for the house, ordering a maid to bring you to a guest room. “Thank you for coming.” He says turning back to you, “I’m sure Ruby really appreciated it.”

You smiled, “I would do anything for her, that girl has me wrapped around her finger.” And you meant it.

He manages a small smile and then turns away from you to head to his office. You let the maid bring you upstairs and wait for her to leave before you quietly move down the stairs again, deciding that if anyone caught you, you’d say you were looking for the bathroom. But there was no one to be seen in the corridors of Tommy’s large home. You heard murmurs coming from outside his office door and checked once more that no one was around before pressing your ear to the wood.

“...because there are rumors of you allying yourself with that fascist Mosley, but you’re not his ally at all, are you? You’re spying on him.”

Oswald. They were talking about Oswald. “Yes.” Tommy says.

“Why?”

“The honest answer is… I’m no longer sure.”

You listen for a few minutes longer, finding out that both Churchill and Tommy believe your fiancé is dangerous, someone who would fan the flames of another war. Eventually, you slowly walk back up the stairs to your bedroom. You lie in the bed, staring at the ceiling for what feels like hours. You hear Tommy come up the stairs and stop outside your bedroom door, only to walk away moments later.

You lie awake and think about the man you are sworn to marry. You start to wonder if you really know him at all.

#mine #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fic #tommy shelby fic #tommy shelby fluff #tommy shelby angst #tommy shelby imagine #tommy x reader #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby fanfic

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youseissi · 4 years

Text

The Dark Witch Next Door

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺:

The man that just moved in next to Hongjoong might be too kind for his own good and the witch's totally not worried about him.

Kim Hongjoong is a dark witch that specializes in potions and when herbs from his garden keep going missing he's pretty sure Park Seonghwa is the culprit. After all who else would need fern flowers besides the white mage living next door.

Pairings: Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa

Tags:

Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Onesided Enemies to Lovers, Light Angst, someone dies but not really, tsundere hongjoong, Necromancy

Notes: This is the first story in a series of short stories for a witch au.

Warnings: Non descriptive gore (necromancy).

Arcana Series: TDWND ✧ TWND ✧ TBC ✧ AO3

Hongjoong counts the little sprouts on the garden floor. He finishes and starts over not quite satisfied. And then one more time. A couple of them were missing. Again. It took weeks to grow those and every single time at least a couple of them went missing, if not up to half of the batch and he needed those. He didn’t have time to wait for another month to continue to brew his potions.

He knew who always did this and, unlike that doofus, he had actual clients to tend to. Saying that Hongjoong, the village's dark witch, was furious was an understatement.

“Having problems with wild animals again?” His neighbour’s annoyingly angelic voice sounded over the fence. Ha. As if it wasn’t that little familiar of his that snatched all his ingredients away.

“I guess so, you don’t happen to know anything about it, do you?”

“Haven’t I answered this question a few too many times before? My answer haven’t changed.” Seonghwa replied, a soft smiled contradicting the tone of his words.

“Yes, yes I know. I just feel the need to ask since these herbs…”

“Are very important ingredients for very expensive potions, I’m aware.” The white mage completed his phrase with a chuckle, having heard the speech way too often. “I really don’t know anything, but I’ll let you know in case I do.”

His two tailed cat chose this moment to cut in between them, sprinting between Hongjoong’s feet and jumping onto the fence, mewling quietly for its owner and Seonghwa promptly took it in his arms excusing himself.

Hongjoong just hummed in response, going back to tend to his destroyed garden. One day he would catch the older in the act, he promised to himself mindlessly as he plucked the remaining blossoms and replaced them with new seeds. It had to be him, after all who else would need fern flowers besides the white mage living next door.

✦

“That’ll be fifteen gold pieces for a good harvest potion, per field of course.” Hongjoong declared matter of factly as he wrote down on a piece of paper with his crow feather quill, doing the math for how much the final price would be.

“Can’t you lower your price? Isn’t that a little too expensive? People are dying, you know.”

Yes, he knew. Tough luck, that was the cycle of life for a mere mortal, get over it. He couldn’t lower his price for a simple reason like that as Magic wasn’t free for him either. Every single ounce of mana needed a sacrifice to be turned into magic. No matter the use, it had a price, always and forever that was the universal truth for every supernatural being. So the whole town could die if that was the case, but he was getting paid for his sacrifice.

“I’m aware of the situation, this is the best price I can do and it’s already severely lowered. Also I need at least half the pay beforehand for ingredients. Would you like some tea while you go over the papers?”

“Sure…”

Hongjoong didn’t stay out of the room for long, just quick enough to grab the already boiling kettle and pour the tea onto some fancy china cups he used for clients, but immediately he knew something was amiss when he stepped back into his living room.

“Have you reached a decision?” He asked with a fake condescending smile.

“I- I’ll speak to the other farmers.” The villager sitting at his couch mumbled.

“Okay, just decide before the next moon cycle or it’ll damage the quality of the spell.” Hongjoong warned eager to get it over with, gathering the papers from the table before getting up to show his client to the door.

He opened the door facing away from his seated guest slowly, stalling a bit until he heard surprised gasps turn into loud screams. The smile in his face turned genuine as he turned back to face the distraught villager.

“What have you done to me?” His guest exclaimed frightened off his mind as he stared at his arms, little mushrooms growing not only there, but all over his body. A harmless prank, if you ask Hongjoong he deserved much worse.

“A little curse, this one for free even! I don’t take kindly to thieves around here, if you could please put back the bottles you took from under the window sill.” The dark witch replied with a fake sweet tone, smiling wide.

“Here, here just stop it please!” The man took out of his jacket pocket a few bottles and even a little jar of stardust that he hadn’t noticed it was gone, surely more valuable than any service the man could buy. Tending to humans was so bothersome, perhaps he’d only take requests from unworldly beings from now on.

“Good boy, now come closer so I can undo the curse.” Hongjoong commanded.

Naively the man rushed to his side and the witch only pushed him out the door, swiftly closing and locking it up on his face.

The man knocked loudly and yelled angrily, with empty threats of burning his house or some other stereotypical bravado humans liked to throw at them. A real witch has nothing to fear against such bigoted ideas, as if his small territory wasn’t strongly protected already.

He giggled as he took the cups back to the kitchen. On one of his windows the neighbour’s cat sat there staring judgmentally, his two tails swinging uncoordinatedly against one another. Not that he expressed any judgment, but Hongjoong just felt his disapproval somehow.

“What? It’ll wear off in a week, stop staring at me.” He excused his actions annoyed.

The cat only started back, letting out a yawn and pawning at his ears. The back of his paws a familiar blue and green that could only be found on the dark witch’s yard.

“You little…”

The smart kitty ran away before he could finish cursing under his breath.

✦

Usually at that time he'd be having tea with the herb thief that was his neighbour. Not that he enjoyed his company or anything, or at least he wouldn't admit to it, it just became their ritual not long after he moved in. Seonghwa knocked at his door with a basket of baked goods inviting him out for a cup on his first day and it stuck. The man might be a petty thief, but he did make great cookies.

The dark witch came out to his front yard with a spring in his step that day, excited to confront Park Seonghwa about his sneaky familiar. He had caught the pesky little animal red handed! He even brought out his favourite cups, brewed his fancier tea leaves, the ones he had imported from lands far beyond their little edge of the forest, and spiked it just the littlest bit with alcohol. Hongjoong was one to celebrate his victories in life no matter how small they were.

Yet as tea time approached Seonghwa’s voice sounded through the fence just out of his sight, covered by the wall of mismatched planks that were higher at the side of his small outdoors resting area. It seemed the white mage had guests. Rude ones for that matter, did no one respect tea time anymore these days? A sacrilege if you asked him.

“Oh dear, what has happened to you?” The mage asked, concern loud and clear on the other side.

“The evil dark witch! He has bestowed an horrible curse upon myself, can you believe it? But that is not the reason I come to you today, no need to worry about such trivial matters.” A familiar gruffy voice answered and Hongjoong groaned quietly at the reappearance of his former client, if the cheapskate could even be called that. Humans like this one just did not know when to give up.

“I’m sure he must’ve had a reason, have you done something to offend him again?” Seonghwa still seemed very concerned with that matter regardless it seemed.

“Not a thing! I swear that witch is the devil.” The villager exclaimed as if it was true and Hongjoong had to remind himself that it was rude to interject into conversations he was not invited to. It took him all his self control as he had quite a few things to say, most of them not pretty words, that's for sure.

“You should be more careful from now on, let me take care of this for you.”

A moment went by without voices, Hongjoong sipping on his tea slowly. Seonghwa’s tea would get cold if he didn’t hurry up, the witch thought impatiently.

“Oh, honorable white mage, I’ll forever be in debt to your generosity.”

Tch, his curse wouldn’t get to last a week it seemed. The overly polite flair in that man words annoyed Hongjoong so much he considered muting the man for a few days. Give him a scare that made him think twice before speaking.

“That’s nothing, please. Now why have you come here? You mentioned you had something to ask before.”

“I fear I might fall into even greater debt for I’ve come to ask for a favor, if you’d be so kind to hear me out.”

A favor? If it was the same he had asked from the dark witch than that man really had no shame downplaying a service like this. Seonghwa shouldn’t have bothered undoing his curse, now it’ll only waste him more energy to cast a new one. Making little of a witch’s work, there was no worse offence and Hongjoong was expecting the white mage to repay the man in kind.

But it did not come, the situation developing in the complete opposite he’d expect. The man did ask for an enchantment that assured a good harvest, the last few ones having been miserable it seemed, and the village starved under his rule. Seonghwa seemingly empathetic agreed to go and asses the situation for him, to see if there was anything he could do and of course there was.

The way Seonghwa was talked to unsettled the dark witch, he’d better charge a great sum, because of course he could help and at a much quicker and effective manner than Hongjoong could. But at greater cost as well.

If he were to do something to this degree for free, where would he draw the line? There was a difference between being kind to being a pushover and it needed to be clear. At least that's the work ethic witches had to live by, magic was an expensive craft after all.

Soon enough the sky began to darken, Hongjoong not quite knowing if he should just go back inside. It wasn’t like they had arranged anything, he only came out to his yard out of habit. Who would even want to meet Park Seonghwa, the stupid fern flower thief that kept undoing his curses? Not him, that’s for sure. The fancy tea he had put out for him had gone bitter after the first hour anyway.

The witch was about to go back inside, the dishes floating back through the window at a wave of his hand when Seonghwa finally appeared, passing by the dirt road in front of his house.

“Oh, Joongie! Have I made you wait? I’m sorry, I should’ve let you know I’d be busy.” The older said with regret, but all Hongjoong could focus on was since when did the white mage called him by Joongie ? It short-circuited his brain for a few seconds before he answered with a rosy tint to his cheeks.

“It's not like I was waiting for you, I was just enjoying my afternoon tea. I finally made some from that exotic blend you’ve been nagging me to make, but oh well guess it’s too late now.” Hongjoong downplayed it as he got up to follow the cutlery inside.

“Aw, you ought to make it again tomorrow.” Seonghwa whined bringing a hand to rest on Hongjoong’s shoulder to keep him there.

“Hmmm… I don’t know, I already wasted a lot of it today.” Hongjoong tried to answer calm and collected, but a thumb rubbing at the base of his neck had him sidetracked.

“Please? For me?” The white mage pleaded with his best puppy eyes and Hongjoong started feeling very suffocated all of a sudden, heat crawling up his neck and tightening his chest.

“Oh, get over yourself, Park Seonghwa.” Hongjoong muttered under his breath, inaudible to the older as he retreats inside hurriedly. Stupid charming mage with his stupid starry eyes. If his ears burned red it had nothing to do with him.

✦

He did not make the tea the next day, or the next one, or the next next one, or…

It had been over a week before a day came that Seonghwa did not start the day announcing he’d be busy and to not wait for him. Hongjoong appreciated the daily notice, as excessive as they sounded, not particularly curious for what was keeping the mage busy. It was probably just a busy time for his business.

When they finally sit down together again the long awaited reaction to his findings were quite underwhelming, the older just chuckled at how worked up he was, but Hongjoong did not relent.

“If I catch this little rascal anywhere near my herb garden again...” He threatened, trying to express how serious this was to him as he poured himself more tea.

“Yeosangie likes sweets, it’s not his fault! I’ll try to discipline him better from now on.” The white mage continued to make light of it with a soft smile, not convincing Hongjoong for one moment that he’d tell off his beloved pet.

The dark witch eyed the cat resting over his fence with distraught and Seonghwa made a motion for the cat to jump on his lap, stretching his arm to catch him into a protective hold as his shirt swayed around obnoxiously. Usually what would catch the witch’s attention was the veins popping in his hands, the way his collar bone poked from under his skin and his muscles flexing, Hongjoong wasn’t blind after all even if he liked to pretend he was.

But that wasn’t it today. Seonghwa quickly fixed himself, noticing where the other’s eye fell and how his expression turned sour.

“Working a lot lately?”

“Yes, I suppose it’s been busy.” The white mage averted his eyes.

“And getting fairly rewarded, I assume?” Hongjoong asked, even though he could guess the answer. He wanted to reach and touch the plethora of scars covering from the tip of the other's fingers up his forearms, he almost did.

Hongjoong was a dark witch for he poured his magic into potions and that dealt with the dead rather than the living. A technicality really, only categorized by the facts that all his ingredients were either already dead or would be by the time his potions were done.

Yet for white magic as it affected the living it required live sacrifices. Seonghwa didn’t look like the type to use animals and such, the practice was not well seen by the community to start with and he didn’t keep any besides the cat as far as Hongjoong knew. So there was only one source left to drive mana from. Himself.

“I only wish to help, it’s no trouble.” Seonghwa dismissed his worries with a weak smile.

Hongjoong considered it to be all the trouble, but oh well.

“You are an absolute fool Park Seonghwa.” His voice came out harsh and sharp, Seonghwa immediately hurt by then. Not offended, just sad to have upset the dark witch so much.

Hongjoong got up quickly to go back into his house not feeling in the mood for tea anymore, a pout and puffed cheeks hidden away from his companion.

✦

“Mister! Don’t you think you poured more blood on his field? Pour some more on mine too!”

“What?” Honestly Seonghwa was getting a lightheaded at this point, this was supposed to be the last one for the day.

“Oh, mine too! I don’t think you did enough today.”

“No! Mine is more important, don’t listen to them!”

“Wait, I’ll-” The white mage tried reasoning, but soon a crowd started forming and it wasn’t long before it started going out of control, no longer just words being used to try and grab his attention.

✦

The dark witch was drinking his precious tea with a different guest from faraway that eventful morning. Very far away considering how painfully slow it was to make a gateway from the underworld, be it through a spell or potion or however method used. It was a long time coming that meeting, months in the making.

The summoner in front of him talked excitedly about all the new pets he found on his latest journey there, eager to show the hellhound he had the pleasure to domesticate and Hongjoong was about to scold Mingi for even suggesting conjuring one on his living room close to all his precious tomes when he felt a crippling cold at the back of his neck, an eerie omen and he just knew something had to be wrong.

His neighbour's cat appeared tapping frantically at his window not an hour later, paw scratching at the glass with sharp screeches and desperate mews to catch his attention.

Oh, humans. Such selfish creatures, they just couldn't help themselves, could they? Once they found something that gave them even the littlest bit of edge over the others, any way to make their lives easier without working for it, they needed to capture it, hog it for themselves, grabbing and pulling without a care for the source.

And that was exactly what they did in this case with the treasure that was Park Seonghwa. The villagers fought nail and tooth for a piece of him, blunt claws showing themselves to paint the fields red till there was no more, leaving his remains to dry up. 'It can't be helped', they thought as their precious magic spell could no longer work for them, losing interest without a second thought.

With blood and flesh at his feet the dark witch saw red with rage, cursing at their fields, at the air they breathed and at the water they drank. He cursed and cursed till there was nothing left uncursed, loud cries and screams sounding all throughout the small village cursing back at him uselessly, but they did not dare raise a finger against him as they knew Hongjoong wouldn’t be merciful like their beloved white mage.

All the pain and misfortune that would befall the village served them right, the witch laughed through tears.

✦

“You’re so lucky I have a necromancer friend that owed me a favor.” Hongjoong continued to tell off the white mage that struggled to look up at him with the unusual height difference, his head laying on their garden table surrounded by flowers to cover the gruesome details of his severed neck.

“Yes, yes I’ll be sure to repay Wooyoung properly once I’m back on my feet.” Quite literally, the bodiless head meant. “Speaking of that, when do you think that will be?”

“It looks like it might take a while, we’re not paying for it after all. And he’s been very preoccupied lately with a jinx that went south.”

“Oh really?” The mundane chit chat was oddly nice, the witch had been extra prickly since the incident and Seonghwa had no choice, but to listen to his nagging now. Not that he minded, if asked he’d tell without an ounce of hesitance how much he loved to hear Hongjoong’s voice, be it sharp remarks or embarrassed squeals.

“He’s been using up all his energy trying to exorcise his boyfriend for a month now.” The dark witch commented absentmindedly as he stirred some powder into the bowl in his hands.

“Oh my, what a predicament. I think I have a spell that might-”

Seonghwa did not manage to finish his phrase as a spoon full of soup was pushed into his mouth.

“Even after all this you’re still wanting to help people? For free? Haven’t you learned your lesson?” Hongjoong asked incredulously.

“Haha, I’m sorry I guess it’s an habit.” The older just chuckled. “Are you mad?”

“I am! You need to take better care of yourself! It’s not like I really care about what you do or anything, but, you know… I- I… I don’t know what I’d do if you really died. Be more considerate.”

Seonghwa swore the blush in the younger’s cheeks was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. He might just die a few more times if it meant he got to hear such words and see the expression again.

“You’re too kind, Joongie.” The comment only earned him another forced spoonful of soup through his smile.

#kpop fanfic #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #seongjoong #kim hongjoong #park seonghwa #ateez #witch au #long #long post #my writing #youseissi #SleepyFairyAO3 #Arcana Series

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ineffably-good · 4 years

Text

Prompt: Glorious

This is part two of my last prompt, which you can read here.

Part of the Good Omens 30th Anniversary celebration prompts. You can read all of the ones I’ve completed over on AO3!

--------

Part two: Project Heavenly Slumber

Crowley was in Baghdad in the court of Mamun the Great, giving his best effort toward whatever it was demons did – foster discord, disrupt the rule of law, interfere with justice, Aziraphale wasn’t sure. He miracled himself into the outskirts of town, where he’d sensed Crowley’s presence. He found him haggling with a merchant over a pile of dates. The demon had always had a sweet tooth, although he’d deny it vociferously if cornered about it.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale said, touching him on the sleeve. “How lovely to run into you!”

“You didn’t run into me,” Crowley said, not missing a beat as he handed over his pile of coins and took the bag from the vendor. “I felt you appear just a second ago. You’re here on purpose. Come to oversee the translations, I suppose?”

Aziraphale blinked. “Translations?”

“Oh!” Crowley grinned. “All kinds of fantastic things are going on here – they’re building this thing called The House of Wisdom. Big building full of scrolls! Translating all the texts from Greece, Persia, Sumeria. Been wondering when you’d show up – right up your alley!”

“Oh dear,” Aziraphale fretted. “And here I am stuck in the courts of Charlemagne overseeing stupid wars and conquests! I’d much rather be here! If only we could switch assignments!”

The demon smiled rapaciously. “We could undoubtedly work something out, angel.”

“Oh now,” the angel replied, retreating into his prim default. “That won’t be possible and you know it. But I did come here to seek you out.”

“Oh? Missed my sparkling personality?”

“Hardly,” the angel said. “But I need your advice. I’ve gotten myself in rather a pickle. Is there somewhere we could go to talk?”

Crowley laughed so loudly and for so long that Aziraphale began to feel quite annoyed. He helped himself to another generous serving of Crowley’s precious date wine, drank it all in one gulp, and then sat back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest.

Still the demon laughed.

“Oh – oh my –” Crowley moaned, wiping his eyes and beginning to calm down. “So sorry angel, but that one is a knee-slapper! Gabriel and his glorious presence overpowering the infant Yeshua into unconsciousness!”

Aziraphale giggled a little too at that one. It never got old.

“And – and now –” Crowley tried to regain breath control, but he was still half-laughing. “And now you’ve got to go teach a bunch of idiot angels how to sleep? Oh, for Satan’s sake. I wish I had your job sometimes. No one in Hell ever says anything funny.”

“Yes, well, that’s the problem you see,” Aziraphale said insistently. “I can barely sleep myself! Hardly ever do it. I was hoping you might have some pointers for me?”

Crowley noticed the low level of the wine jug and waved a hand to refill it to the top, then poured himself a mug of it. He took a sip while thinking carefully.

“I suppose I could teach you a few things,” he said. “Things I learned in China. Breathing techniques. Ways to calm the body and achieve other states. A little bit of hypnotic suggestion, perhaps?”

Aziraphale wrung his hands. “Oh dear, I would be so grateful. Anything you have, anything at all.”

Crowley nodded. “When do you have to report in?”

“Tomorrow!”

“Well then,” the demon said, “we’d better get started.”

Aziraphale left Baghdad armed with a sealed jug of date wine, several interesting new relaxation techniques designed to help ease anyone into a peaceful sleep, a scroll or two with some interesting guided incantations in them, and a small packet of a powder that Crowley promised would be safe but which he doubted he would ever feel brave enough to use. He still had his doubts about the demon’s intentions from time to time, and he certainly didn’t want to go down in infamy as the angel who got everyone in Heaven hooked on narcotic powders.

He made his way back home, left instructions with his secretary for things to be done in his absence, and then made a show of riding off on his best horse as if he were off on his travels. Once he was firmly out of sight of any and all of the humans, he set the horse free with a gentle command to find its way back to the stables and blend in, and miracle himself up to Heaven to begin his great and glorious work.

Gabriel was in that irritatingly heightened state he got into when he had come up with another new idea for team building or motivating his underlings. If regular Gabriel was hard to deal with, excited Gabriel was almost unbearable. He all but vibrated with self-importance and celebration, bestowing smiles and hearty claps on the shoulder to anyone he met.

“Principality!” he boomed jovially. “Glad you made it on time. Let me show you to where you’ll be working.”

He led the way through a winding series of corridors, each nearly indistinguishable from the next, past the library and on into an area Aziraphale had only rarely visited before – some kind of large, empty conference room, all white and chrome like the rest of Heaven, barely furnished except for a large stack of pillows and blankets someone had thrown in the middle of the room. Sitting in a half circle on the floor around the pile of bedding were eight nervous looking angels, low ranking guardians and office workers, obviously pulled from other duties and deposited here.

“Interns,” Gabriel announced. “This is Principality Aziraphale, former Guardian of the Eastern Gate, and our premiere expert on humanity. He’s here to introduce you to a human concept called sleep. Please give him your full attention and cooperate with everything he asks of you on this glorious new work. Questions?”

The angels jittered nervously and one fearfully shook her head. Aziraphale thought wryly that this was nearly the nicest thing Gabriel had ever said about him.

“Good then!” Gabriel said, whapping Aziraphale on the shoulder rather painfully. “I’ll check in on you later.”

He strode out of the room and the door sealed behind him.

“Good morning,” Aziraphale said nervously. “Shall we go around and introduce ourselves?”

As the day went by, the gathered angels got less and less fearful. Most of them hadn’t met a Principality before, Aziraphale realized, and they were naturally deferential and timid. Over the course of a few hours, though, they began to loosen up and to realize that this angel, in particular, welcomed questions and comments.

After a few stretching and breathing exercises, one of them raised her hand and waited patiently to be noticed.

“Yes, Anielle is it?” Aziraphale said.

“I’m terribly sorry, Principality Aziraphale,” she said quietly, “but I don’t understand. What is sleep FOR? And why are we supposed to learn how to do it?”

Terribly good question, Aziraphale thought. He tried to remain professional, despite his doubts about the entire project. “No one really knows what purpose sleep serves, but without it humans sicken and die. Also, many of them seem to enjoy it immensely,” he said. “I believe the archangels think we might be able to influence the dreams of sleeping humans, to – well, to guide them towards goodness and help counter demonic influences.”

Another angel raised his hand.

“You don’t really need to raise your hands,” Aziraphale objected. All eight pairs of eyes stared at him uncomprehendingly. “Or for Heaven’s sake. Yes? Plavian?”

“Could we perhaps use it to frighten them back into the path of righteousness, as well?” the angel asked. “In extreme cases of course. Using the nightmares you mentioned earlier?”

About half of the other angels tittered approvingly. Anielle, to her credit, looked upset.

This Plavian, Aziraphale thought, had a bit of Gabriel in him. He was undoubtedly going to be moving up in the chain of command. He could smell the wanker gene on him from here.

“Humans can react very poorly to nightmares,” Aziraphale said crisply, “and providing and worsening them is really more of a demonic tactic than an angelic approach. We’ll focus on methods that don’t actively damage anyone’s psyche. Our Heavenly Mother wouldn’t want us to harm them.”

He stood up. “Now,” he said, “everyone take a blanket and a pillow and find a space to lie down. We’re going to try some relaxation exercises and see if we can get any of you to fall asleep.”

Nothing worked. Nothing. They tried breathing exercises. They tried guided relaxation. They tried tensing and releasing each muscle in their bodies, starting with their feet and working their way up to their eyebrows. They tried calisthenics. They tried music. Finally, in desperation, Aziraphale magically dimmed the lights and read them all a story. He tried to pick a soothing one. A Tale of Two Cities should do, he thought.

The room was quiet and there was deep, even breathing all around when Aziraphale finished chapter two. He softly closed the book and stood up as quietly as possible, peeking around in the dim light. All eight of the angels were still, their hands folded on their chests, their eyes closed.

Were they – were they doing it?

As he leaned closer to the angel nearest him, he noted that she opened one eye just a crack and grinned up at him.

“I think I’m doing it!” she stage-whispered to him. “It feels really good!”

“It does!” someone else echoed from a far corner of the room. “I think I’m sleeping!”

“Me too!” said a third.

Aziraphale tried not to tear his hair out.

“Class dismissed for today,” he said. “Go home and try some of those relaxation exercises in the peace and quiet of your own abodes. We’ll try something new tomorrow.”

“You want to do what?” Gabriel said.

“I want to bring in a meal for them,” Aziraphale said patiently. “Food makes humans tired, so maybe it will help get them into the proper state.”

Gabriel frowned. “This is highly irregular,” he said, “corrupting them with gross matter.”

“You did want me to be thorough,” Aziraphale said primly.

Gabriel waved his permission, and Aziraphale got to work.

“Welcome back!” he said the next afternoon. “Today we’re going to expand our horizons a bit and try a meal.”

The angels filed in, looking curiously at the table Aziraphale had set up and its contents.

“What’s a meal?” one of the angels asked.

“It’s food! Humans consume it for sustenance.”

“So, it’s like the word of God?”

Aziraphale frowned. “Not exactly. Anyway, please take a seat around the table and let’s get started.”

He walked them through consuming a variety of dishes, taking a nibble here and there himself – fruits and vegetables, savory pies, cheeses and breads in various forms, sweets. The angels gamely tried everything, most of them looking somewhat unimpressed and trying to hide their distaste for the experience. One or two of them, though, took to the meal with slightly more gusto, taking seconds of some dishes and seeming to enjoy themselves. Aziraphale took note of these ones; they were potential future allies in his endeavors, he thought, and unlikely to be appreciated here in Heaven.

After they’d finished, they did some stretching and then he lowered the lights, had them all lay down, and he led them through the relaxation program from the prior day. He hoped that being warm, comfortable, and full would ease a few of them into sleep.

Aziraphale found himself fighting off a yawn. He really had been working frightfully hard the last few days.

The principality woke up some indeterminate amount of time later with the most terrible sensation of being watched. He opened his eyes in a panic and found himself ringed by his students, with eight pairs of eyes staring down at him in complete fascination.

Aziraphale pushed himself up to seated.

“Oh, for Heaven’s sake,” he said. “Did anyone besides me sleep?”

“No,” said one of the students. “But you did it very well, sir!”

“You were making the most curious noise,” another one added. “Kind of like this.” The student opened their mouth and started to make a rumbling noise that sounded a bit like an earthquake.

“No, I think it was more like this,” the original student one said, emitting a noise like a kitten purring, but loud.

“And you seem to have created a liquid,” added a third student. “It dripped out of your mouth onto your pillow. Is this part of the process?”

“We tried to touch your dreams,” Plavian said, “but it didn’t work.”

“NO ONE TOUCHES MY DREAMS,” Aziraphale said, leaping to his feet. The students backed away nervously; they had heard what a principality was capable of, in the general sense, and even more, they had all heard strange stories about Principality Aziraphale and his flaming sword. No one really wanted to see him angry.

“Oh, very well,” he said, pulling a leather pouch out of his robes. “Let’s try a little chemistry, shall we?”

“So in total,” Michael said sternly, “you’ve taken eight of our most promising young angels, sullied their corporations with cheese and bread, led several of them to believe that food is equivalent to the word of God, taught them heretical chanting techniques from the Eastern empires of Earth, and gotten several of them severely addicted to opium powder. Is that correct?”

Aziraphale looked at his feet and tried to appear repentant while inside he focused on one thought and one thought alone. He was going to murder the demon the next time he saw him. This was all his fault.

#goc2020 #good omens #good omens fanfiction #Aziraphale x crowley #heavenly projects #angel interns #hijinks ensue

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twoidiotwriters1 · 5 years

Text

Pure Blood (Sirius Black xF!Oc)

A/N: New series!! This time coming from the wonderful world of Harry Potter, something we’re very fond of here <3 We haven’t established a day to post this though!

Words: 1,793

Warnings: None :)

Next part --->

Chapter 1: Pure Blood

The Singh family has lived in the British wizarding world for several decades. Their policy of purebloods has prevailed along with their hatred for muggles.

This ideology is shared by many families, but especially with the Malfoys and the Blacks. All the wizarding world knew who these families were, and they were respected and admired, even feared.

The last Singh generation was conformed by Ares Singh II, his wife Amelia, and their five children: Apollo, Isis, Juno, Balder, and Persephone. As expected, this family attended Hogwarts and they all have been part of either Slytherin or Ravenclaw. Their pride is lasting, and the adults make sure to inculcate all traditions to their children.

But their story will soon be threatened by the changes that the youngest Singh is trying to accomplish. And it all starts when she and her best friend Sirius Black begin their first year at Hogwarts in 1971.

—————————————————————————

“We’ll be waiting for your letter, Persephone. To let us know you’re in the right house.”

The eleven-year-old girl nods at her mother’s petition. Amelia Singh fixes the long, black hair of her last daughter and gives her one final, small hug.

“And remember, don’t mix with the mudbloods,” Adds Ares Singh. The girl nods again and her father smiles, also giving her a hug, “be careful, dear.”

“I’ll be fine, daddy,” She says when they break apart.

Balder, take care of your sister and chaperone her if it’s necessary,” Demands the man to his fourth son, who only nods as a reply.

The adults keep giving the rest of their children indications and words of farewell, especially to their oldest one, Apollo, who only has one year before he graduates.

The little girl didn’t want to stay for the rest of the lectures, so she started to look for her best friend. Her eyes went from one side to the other without being able to find him.

“There they are,” Mentions Isis while signaling to a column in the distance, the whole Black family is there. Persephone thanks her older sister and runs towards their direction.

While pushing and apologizing, she gets there the moment when Walburga Black is giving her own lecture to her oldest son.

“I understand,” The boy sighs.

“Good,” The woman nods and turns around only to notice the presence of the girl, “Persephone, where are your parents?” She asks with a small smile.

The little girl shivers at her expression, smiling wasn’t something that Mrs. Black did quite often.

“Next to the big windows, Mrs. Black”

She nods and takes her husband’s hand to drag him with her, following the indications of the girl.

“Your mother is scary,” Says the girl to her friend. The boy only laughs at her comment.

“Tell me about it.”

“Are you nervous, Sirius?” She can’t help but notice how his hands are shaking.

“I don’t know, Percy. It’s…” He holds his hands trying to control them, “Nevermind, it’s not important.”

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” Sirius stares at her intently, He feels the safety he’s always felt around her. Her dark eyes are looking at him with worry but, How could he tell her? Maybe they’ve been best friends since they were born, but they never talked about those subjects before.

How would she react if he tells her that he doesn’t want to be in Slytherin like the rest of his family? Or that he’s not so sure about what his parents say about the muggles and “mudbloods”?

“I know…” Sirius smiles, “It’s nothing, I promise.”

“It’s not fair,” Says a voice beside them, “I want to go with you too.”

Persephone laughs at the funny face the younger Black is making

“Next year you will, Reggie.”

The boy groans but hugs her by the waist. She surrounds his shoulders and brings him closer.

“Reg, leave Percy alone.”

Before Regulus can answer, a loud noise interrupts their chat. The train is about to leave. Sirius and Percy finish their goodbyes and hop on the train. Both search for an empty compartment.

“Percy, here,” Says the boy, opening one. The girl walks closer but soon realizes it’s not completely empty.

“Hi,” Sirius says, “can we sit here? all the others are taken.”

“Sure.”

Both kids get in and they sit in front of the other boys.

“I’m James, James Potter,” Says the kid in glasses.

“I’m Remus Lupin,” that kid causes certain curiosity to Percy, his face has several scars.

“I’m Sirius Black, and this is Percy.” The girl smiles politely.

“Is your name really Percy?” Asks James. She laughs and shakes her head.

“It’s short for Persephone.”

“Brilliant.”

On the way to school, the three boys and Percy had different conversations. James and Sirius animatedly talked about what they could do at school, Sirius can’t help but get excited about not being under the supervisión of his mum and James has tons of ideas to have fun. While Persephone and Remus shared the joy of being able to learn everything that the books were promising. Both couldn’t wait to read more and to start the school year.

From time to time Sirius teased his friend about always being a “brainy", but she ignores his comments and keeps chatting with Remus.

When they arrive to the station, they stop and all the students are guided on different routes. First years must go on boat and have a fun little trip on their way to the castle. All the kids are amazed before the tall, huge castle.

“First years, get together!” Says a woman in green robes.

She gives indications once they go through the entrance and takes them towards a corridor.

“Very well,” She says once we’re in front of some wooden doors, “When you enter the great hall you’ll be assigned a house for the next seven years. The houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. If you’re lucky, you’ll find a new family in your house.

Persephone can’t wait to keep the family tradition alive, she knows her new he will be Slytherin, and she can imagine how proud her parents will feel. She’ll be around her siblings without being scolded for not behaving properly like a Singh, something that could often get annoying. But what excites her the most, is being able to spend more time with her best friend. She was glad their families had the same traditions.

However, Sirius’ nervousness does nothing but increase, he knew there was no way he would end up in Slytherin, any other house would be nice but the snake house.

The woman raises her wand and the giant doors open, everyone walks through them and watches as the magical details of the great hall welcomes them warmly. From the floating candles, the sky pictured on the ceiling, to the four tables before them, each one representing a house.

The first years stop in front of the teachers’ table and a small stall. Persephone turns to the table on her right and sees her older siblings, Apollo and Juno, both wearing a green robe. They look at her with a small smile, wave, and turn their attention back to the teacher.

The professor introduces herself as Minerva McGonagall, then she pulls out a ragged, pointy hat and leaves it on the stall. Everyone stares in expectation until the hat starts to move, he sings a welcoming message, when it ends, everyone applauds and the ceremony starts.

The professor extends a parchment and starts calling each student by name, every boy and girl are selected in different houses.

“Black, Sirius.”

As soon as Persephone hears the name, she reaches for his hand and gives it a soft squeeze. Sirius smiles a little, walks towards the bench and McGonagall puts the hat on top of his head. It’s silent for a moment, Percy watches, biting her lower lip.

Why is it taking so long? He’s a Black, he belongs in-

“Gryffindor!” Exclaims the hat. The lions’ table applauds and screams out of excitement for the new kid. While the youngest Singh stares in utter horror while her best friend walks towards the table.

Sirius can’t believe that the hat chose to put him in a house that wasn’t Slytherin. He’s happy, and this happiness only increases when the kids that were on the train with him and Percy joins him on the table.

The kid was forgetting, though, that certain little person did not want to belong in that group.

__________________________________________

“Professor Mcgonagall?”

“Yes?” She lowers her eyes to find the little girl beside her.

“My name is Persephone Singh”

“Of course, you’re the youngest of Ares’ children, aren’t you?” The girl nods.

“Yes, professor, but…” She frowns, “I didn’t come here only to introduce myself”

“What do you need, Miss Singh?”

“You see,” She says, trembling a little, “I think the sorting hat has made a mistake.”

McGonagall looks at the child in mild surprise.

“You think?” Persephone nods, “What makes you think that way? ”

“My best friend, Sirius Black. He was put in Gryffindor, but he has to be in Slytherin… with me,” She adds slightly anxious.

“Miss Singh, I’m afraid that if this is about wanting to be with Mister Black only to spend time together, I can’t help you”

“You don’t understand!” She insists, raising her voice a little, “He has to be in Slytherin, otherwise his parents…” she stops, giving a second thought to what she was about to say, “they were there too. All his family it’s from Slytherin.”

“Sorry, Singh, the selection is over,” The woman puts a hand on her shoulder, ��and it looks like Black has the characteristics of a Gryffindor.”

Persephone panics at the thought of the punishment Sirius will face when he tells his parents the news. She, better than anyone, knows how Walburga Black wasn’t a loving mother, and Persephone was sure this wouldn’t be accepted by her. She was worried about Sirius.

On the other hand, someone else had listened to her conversation, a boy, hiding behind one column close to where the girl and the woman were standing.

Little James Potter didn’t mean to spy on them at first, it was at hearing his new friend’s name that he couldn’t help but stay. When the conversation ended, James was upset with the girl, misunderstanding Persephone’s intentions, he thought that she didn’t want Sirius away from her and that she, like the rest of the Slytherins, hated his house. It seemed unfair to him, on the train she acted all nice and he even considered being friends with her even after hearing that she got sorted in Slytherin, but at that moment, he realized she was nothing but another one of the snakes.

#hp fanfic #sirius black #sirius black x reader #james potter #remus lupin #minerva mcgonagall #regulus black #twoidiots writing

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justreadingfics · 5 years

Text

Looking For a Heartbeat (11/?)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Series Summary: You and Bucky used to be in a relationship. Feelings were hurt, you left. It’s been two years and you’re back. You both will handle the reunion well, won’t you?

Chapter Summary: A little help from your friends.

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings for this chapter: angst, pregnancy stuff.

A/N: @nedthegay is the angel helping me with this story. Links are ruining posts, you can find the masterlist link on my description.

The symphony of knocks on your door would be more than enough to wake you up, if you had been able to get some sleep at all at night. Lying on your bed, you move your forearm to uncover your eyes and see the sun peeking through the curtains. You haven’t even realize it’s morning already. The knocks grow louder, taking a low grunt out of you.

“I’m coming,” you half yell, forcing yourself up. You have to stand still for a moment, waiting for the small but annoying dizziness to go away until you manage to lumber to the door.

“Good Morning,” Wanda greets you while Nat is right beside her, holding a long glass filled with something looking like a smoothie.

“Here,” she says, handing the glass to you, “Drink it up.”

“Good morning to you, too, Ms. Black Widow,” you say, accepting the drink and bringing it next to your nose. Your eyebrows rise with surprise when the smell isn’t awful, but instead feels quite decent.

“She made it herself,” Wanda’s grin is bright, “Said it would be good for morning sickness.”

Your head snaps to your friend, stunned.You’ve never seen Nat doing anything in the kitchen that didn’t contain vodka before. She shuffled her feet, looking at the floor before looking up at you.

Nat huffs and rolls her eyes, “There’s a thing called Google these days, you know? Now will you let us in or not?”

“Oh, yes, by all means, please get in,” you jest, giving room to both of them to pass. You take a sip from the ice cold smoothie before shutting the door and guiding them to your bedroom. You hum in satisfaction and lick your lips, it truly tastes good and the coldness seems it’s really going to help with your new buddy, morning sickness.

“Wow, thank you, Nat. It’s delicious,” You exclaim, taking a seat on the middle of your bed, resting your back against the headboard.

“Of course it is,” she deadpans, positioning herself next to you, while Wanda sits on the chair in front of the bed.

“How did you sleep?” Wanda asks.

“Didn’t,” you mumble, taking another small sip from the smoothie.

It’s quiet in the room as you gulp down the cold drink. Licking your lips, you can see Wanda’s bouncing leg and Nat’s clenched fists. Their uneasiness and expectation are palpable, the need to ask but not daring to…

You let out a long sigh and ends with the silence, “I’m keeping it.” You can’t stop the small smile curling up your lips when you hear yourself saying it, “I’m keeping the baby.”

Your gaze shifts from one to the other and the previous expectation is replaced by what it seems like… surprise? Confusion? You really can’t blame them when. Actually, you were the first one to be surprised by your resolution and the feelings it’s been making surface inside you.

“You know, I’ve always heard I should be strong,” you say, resting the glass on your lap, “And I learned love, boyfriends, family… all of that wasn’t important. It was a distraction, a weakness,” you chuckle without humor, looking at your friends.

Wanda has her lips pressed tightly together, while Nat rests her head back on the headboard, her face turned and focused on you. She nods for you to continue.

“The thing is, ever since I saw that positive result and I realized I’m going to have a child, a little person to take care of, I’ve been feeling stronger and stronger. More than I’ve ever have.” You take in some air and let the smile come back to your face, tightening the grip on the glass in your hands. “I feel empowered; I feel like I could fight a thousand HYDRA agents singlehanded. I want to fight and make this place a safer and better place for this baby.”

You bring one hand to your belly as you stare down at it, “There’s a bunch of new feelings rising inside me, and I’m stronger because of it.” You nod to yourself as a single tear trails down your cheek, “I want this. I want this baby.”

When you look up, you see Wanda sporting a huge, watery smile on her face. Turning to the side, you catch the soft look on Nat, a rare and beautiful vision. Before you could do or say anything else Wanda swiftly climbs on the bed to sit facing your side and promptly puts her arms around your shoulders, pulling you into a tight hug. It almost makes you spill the smoothie in your hands all over the sheets, as she nuzzles into your neck. Giggling, you reach behind her to place the glass safely on the nightstand.

“I’m gonna be an auntie.” She cries out. “You’re gonna be an auntie, Nat.” She adds, pulling back to look at her.

At your other side, Nat smiles and nods to both of you, “I guess that’s what’s going to happen, huh?” She takes your hand into hers, squeezing it tightly as she adjusts her body and turn it to you, prepping a kiss to your temple.

“Oh My God,” Wanda covers her mouth for a small second before speaking again, with widened eyes, “Bucky is going to be a father. When are you going to tell him?

Just like that, the bubbling joy inside your chest freezes and you can feel the smile leaving your face as your stomach swirls.

“Well,” you breathe, “about that…”

“Y/N?” Nat frowns, as if she’s the one who can read your mind instead of Wanda, “You have to tell him,” She adds, her voice firm.

“I’ve tried to…” You let go of her hand and shift on the mattress under the questioning eyes of your friends, “I called him last night, right after you two left.” You explain, chewing your cheek before continuing, “I told him I had something important to tell him and asked if he could come over. He was a fucking dick.” You scoff and shake your head replaying the phone call in your head.

“What happened?” Wanda asks as her eyes squint. .

The wounding memory assaults you like a gunshot made of pain and anger. You want nothing except to never talk about that, but you tell them all about your last conversation with Bucky instead. “… and I told him it was important but he said he had absolutely no interest in what I had to say. He wouldn’t meet me, and there was I nothing I could say to change that. So I said nothing.” You fold your legs up and brace your arms around your knees, as one of your legs keeps bouncing.

“Oh…” That’s all that slips from Wanda.

“Bucky’s a fucking asshole and I wanna punch his fucking guts,” Nat says, making you tilt your face to her, “However… and I know you don’t wanna hear this right now, but I have to say it,” her expression is soft, like her voice, when she talks next, “Maybe you should’ve told him over the phone anyway. This is huge, I don’t think it’s something you should be petty about.”

“Nat…” Wanda calls in a reproving tone.

You feel your features and your muscles stiffen defensively, “He said he didn’t want to know what I had to say-”

“Come on, Y/N, we all know Bucky. I’m sure if you had told him what it was about he would’ve changed his attitude and would listen, you can’t be selfish right now-“

“Nat,” you raise your hand and interrupt her, “Tell me something, if I had told you I’d rather not go forward with this pregnancy, what would you say to me?”

Natasha sighs, looking to the other way briefly, seemingly understanding your point before you even make it. She faces you again and nods, resigned, “I would have said it’s your decision to make and no one else’s, because it’s your body. You make the rules.” She purses her lips.

“Exactly,” the fight doesn’t leave your tone yet as you unconsciously move farther from her and closer to Wanda, “I’m far from perfect, but I’m not a monster. I know he has to know about the child, it’s his as much as it is mine. But this pregnancy,” You place a hand over your belly and Nat’s gaze follows the move, “this pregnancy is mine. As far as I’m concerned I owe him absolutely nothing right now.” You spit as your breathing grows erratic.

“Calm down, Y/N, it’s ok,” Wanda tries to soothe you, resting her hand on your shoulder.

“Picture that:” despite Wanda’s efforts, you keep on with your rant without taking a breath, eyes bored into Nat’s as she doesn’t make a single move to interrupt you, “Despite my fears, because, yes, I was damn scared of his reaction when he knew, I called him. The guy is fucking annoyed by my mere voice even if it’s the first fucking time I’m calling after two months of complete radio silence and says he wants nothing to do with me or what I have to say…” you blink rapidly, replaying the words in your head.

Nat’s eyes downcast and she folds her arms in front of her.

“What did you expect me to say after that? Hey, guess what?” You change your voice into one filled of fake cheerfulness, “You want nothing to do with me? Ha ha, not happening because I’m fucking pregnant?” You let out a huff, “I know it seems petty and selfish, and maybe it is, but I don’t care. He crushed me last night, I felt like shit. I don’t need this right now.”

“We get it, dear. Please, just try to breathe.”

Wanda finally gets your attention as you turn your watery eyes at her and do what she said, taking in and out deliberately long and slow breaths. You’re not sure what’s stronger inside you, the anger of being confronted, the sadness from the memory of being rejected when you were so excited about the news, or the shame for being called out on something you know you could’ve handled better…

“I know he’ll find out eventually,” you speak again, this time calmer and steadier, “And that’s ok,” You turn to Nat again, “That’s really ok.” You nod at her, wanting her to believe what you’re affirming, “It’s not even about him, it’s about this kid who will deserve their father to at least know about them, no matter if he decides to take part of this or not.” You lazily caress your belly, looking down at it, before addressing to Wanda, in a small voice, “He didn’t seem like he would be happy about it last night and I wouldn’t bear that at that moment, when I was so excited on finding out.”

Her hand is tight and comforting warm on your shoulder. You wonder if the gradual serenity growing inside is her doing…

You give her a tight lip smile, before continuing, staring ahead and avoiding both of their looks, “This pregnancy is something entirely unexpected and new for me. I need peace to live through this, to learn how to be a… a mother.” You pause when the word comes out of you. The tension in your throat from holding back tears becomes too much and you let them free, feeling the heat of them running down your face before hastily wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand.

Wanda and Nat settle in silence, letting you take the moment to yourself and articulate your thoughts again.

“He doesn’t want the drama of loving me into his relationship and I don’t want it while I’m pregnant, either.” You sigh and nod to yourself, “Right now, the only people who know about this are in this room and I wanna keep it that way, at least for a while.” You look at one and them at the other, receiving reassuring nods in response, “I’m dealing with this alone. It’s just me and my baby.”

“You’re not alone.” Nat finally breaks her silence.

You turn to her and exchange a wordless conversation. One of the many you two have had during your friendship. Full of understanding... Despite your rant, you’re glad for having her, the friend who won’t accept your bullshit and will always bring you to reality. But you’re also glad you were able to make her see you side of things too. Her eyes are tearing up as she shrugs and twists her mouth. Definitely another “non- Black-Widow” look.

“I’m sorry.” She mouths to you.

You extend a hand to her, which she accepts promptly.

“Of course you’re not alone.” Wanda covers the hand over your belly with hers, resting her head on your shoulder.

You sigh, feeling more at ease with their support, “Sooner or later he’ll know, and then I’ll deal with whatever comes from it,” you whisper.

“We’ll be here for you,” Nat reassures.

“You have to tell Heloise, though.” Wanda raises her head from your shoulder and you look at her, “She needs to check on your meds and, oh,” Her eyes round as she’s remembering something, “We need to schedule an appointment with an obstetrician or will you prefer a midwife? We have to think about this.”

“Yes.” You nod, smiling, loving how she uses ‘we’, “All of that. And Nat will have to make me one of those every morning.” You point at the up till now forgotten smoothie on the nightstand.

Nat only grunts her response.

~~~

A couple of days passed until you managed to set up an appointment with an obstetrician you three agreed was qualified enough. You didn’t want to see any of the doctors from the tower yet, due the risk of being exposed, but considering the super soldier status of the father, you pondered that soon a doctor with more know-how on the matter would be safer to your baby.

If, even for a second, you thought you would go through this alone, you were so very mistaken. Wanda and Nat went with you to the appointment and acted like a couple of helicopter moms, asking questions, exposing your bad habits and taking notes on all the recommendations and prescriptions.

They were there during the first ultrasound as well. You’re 9 weeks into the pregnancy and the moment when you see the tiny, almost imperceptible smudge on the screen and hear its accelerated heartbeat was the moment you remembered you had a heart too. You felt alive and strong. More than ever. There were tears and laughter while Wanda and Nat held your hands. The doctor offered pictures of your little bean and they wanted one copy each.

You took two home...

As the days pass, keeping the secret has become one of the most difficult things to do. All you want is to scream to the World and especially to your friends about your baby. But you decided it was to best to keep it to yourself so you stick to your plan, avoiding meeting anyone on the mornings, while the sickness was worst, avoiding get togethers to drink and also going to the gym with everyone else, since you’re not allowed to do heavy exercises, and explaining why would be a handful.

At least you have Wanda and Nat to talk about everything. Oh, and Heloise. You told her on your very next session and you were relieved when she told you the medication she had prescript before were safe to use during pregnancy.

Now, obviously, the main subject in your sessions has been your pregnancy.

“Have you talked to Bucky again?” She asks, studying you from above her glasses.

“No, and I don’t wanna talk about it.” You straighten your posture on the chair, “I haven’t even been thinking about him, to be honest.” To your own surprise, you’re saying the truth. Bucky hasn’t been in your mind lately, even though you know it won’t be for long.

“No? And what have you been thinking about?”

Looking down to your lap, you watch yourself fiddling with your nails. You twist your mouth to the side before you bite your lower lip. The thing is that since finding out about the baby the excitement that came has lessened, and the little hint of fear has become a monster inside you, lodging in your thoughts.

“I’m gonna screw this up, I know I will.” You blurt it out in an exasperated voice, looking up at Heloise again, who quirks a questioning brow at you, “Do you know how many time I’ve hold a baby in my life? None. Zero fucking times. I have no idea how much a baby weighs, where would I even put my hands…what if I drop them?

“Y/n-” Heloise tries to get your attention.

“Their bodys are so fragile and tiny,” You watch your hands as you shape them to mimic a newborn’s size, “What if I hold them the wrong way and hurt them?” Their little neck seems so soft … What if I don’t have breast milk?” You bring your palm to your forehead, staring at nothing as you keep your frantic questions, “What if they choke up while I’m feeding them? Oh my God…” You pant and your hand drops to your mouth briefly, “I haven’t thought of that before…”

“Y/n-” Heloise tries a little louder.

“Besides, I’m fucked up,” You scoff and shake your head “The only logical thing is I fuck up with this baby’s head too, I know I will… And I’m doing this alone, the girls are amazing but at the end of the day, I’m the mother, the responsibility is mine, oh fuck-”

“Y/N!”

The yell coming from Heloise is enough to stop your monologue, as your wide eyes snap at her.

“My dear, Y/n,” She says, calmly this time. You stare as she scrunches up her face and rubs her temples while still holding her pen. “You’re gonna give me a headache.”

Your head tilts as you squint at her, watching as her hands drop from her head and she writes down something on a blank page of her little notebook.

“All valid concerns.” She keeps writing as she speaks, “But, as qualified and amazing as I am-”

You sigh.

“I can’t help with all of them. So, here’s something I think it’s going to be perfect for you.” She finishes writing and rips off the page, extending it to you.

With the page in your hands you read an address in it.

“It’s a support group for…” she ponders for a moment, “parents without a partner.” Heloise seems pleased with her choice of words.

Your eyes roll, “You can say single mother.”

“And hurt your pregnant feelings? Never!” She mocks outrage, placing a hand over her heart, “Besides, it’s not just for mothers, there are fathers there as well.” Her face light up as if an incredible idea has come to her mind, “Oh… this might be even more interesting than I thought…” She smirks and wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.

Catching her meaning, you huff, lying back on your chair, “Jesus, Heloise, I’m pregnant…”

“My point exactly. Just wait until the pregnancy hormones hit you hard and leave you horny as fuck. Then we’ll talk.” She states with a straight face, pointing at the walls behind her with her pen.

“Will this be helpful? For real?” You ignore her comment.

“It will.” She speaks more seriously, “A friend of mine is the mediator. She’s a specialist. Trust me.”

“Well,” You fold the little paper and reach behind you to tuck it in your back pocket, “I’ll give it a shot.”

~~~

“Dear God, Steve, can you just stop?” Bucky huffs, interrupting whatever his friend had been saying.

“Stop what?” Steve asks from across the table, gulping down his coffee as he rests the cup back on the wooden surface. He looks at the man across the table with his brows furrowed in confusion.

Bucky waves his hand around his friend, “Doing whatever it is you’re doing to make the staff and customers here all so damn fuzzy. Can’t you hear the whispers? The dirty mind in these people…” Bucky glances up to the ceiling of the small coffee shop and puffs, before taking a sip from his own coffee.

A rush of red creeps up Steve’s pale neck to his ears, but he still manages to give Bucky a small cheeky smile and shrug, “Can’t help you with that, pal. I’m doing absolutely nothing.”

“Show off.” Bucky scowls.

Steve chuckles, “I miss this, Buck. It’s been a while since we last went for a run and coffee together.”

Bucky flicks his eyes up to him, before dropping them to his hands playing with the cup of coffee, “You’ve seen me a week ago, at the pizza house.”

“Yeah, I know, but I miss this.” Steve shakes his hand back and forth, “You and me only.” The smile curling his lips has a touch of nostalgia, “And I miss you in the Tower. Everyone does.”

“I know,” Bucky agrees softly and glances at his friend, “It’s the same for me. But I need this time away, you know I do.”

“Yeah, yeah… but for how long?” Steve forehead creases, “How much time away will you need? Two years didn’t seem to be enough before…” he trails off.

The not so subtle hint dropped doesn’t slip from Bucky’s attention. His jaw clenches and he shots a warning glare at his friend, “Just don’t, Steve.”

“Okay, okay, sorry.” Steve raises his hands to the air in a sign of surrender, “I don’t wanna fight with you.” He leans his elbows on the table and takes a good look of his friend, who grabs his coffee for another sip, “How do you like the new apartment? How’s Brooklyn?”

“Not the same. Too crowded. Too loud.” Bucky answers grumpily.

“Yeah, nothing is the same these days.” Steve sighs, “Have you been sleeping well?” He nods towards the evident dark circles around Bucky’s eyes.

“They haven’t stopped,” Bucky breathes, knowing what Steve’s question really is about, considering he was the one – besides you, of course- who had been helping him through constant nightmares back in the tower, “Anna spent the night one of these days… I’m kind of glad I wasn’t able to get a wink of sleep that night, to be honest…”

“Oh yeah, and what kept you awake?” Steve asks, before bringing his cup to his lips.

“Y/N called.” Bucky clears his throat.

“Really?” Steve’s eyes well up “What for?” He leans over, giving Bucky his full attention.

Bucky focus on his fidgeting fingers over the table. “She… it seemed like she had something to tell me. But I- I didn’t let her speak.” He can’t help the shame fastened on his voice. He glances up at Steve, “Do you have an idea of what she wanted to tell me? Is she… is everything ok with her?”

“Now I’m allowed to talk about her?” Steve asks, tilting his head.

Bucky grimaces impatiently. “Come on, stop being a punk.”

Steve taps on his thighs and leans back, “I don’t know, but now that you mentioned, I haven’t really been seeing her much these days…Last time I bumped into her she was leaving the tower early in the morning with Nat and Wanda. They seemed to be in a hurry...”

“Would you… would you check on her?” Bucky’s shoulders slump and his voice is small, almost pleading, “I was kind of a jerk and didn’t listen to what she wanted to say. It could be important. Just… just see if she’s ok. But, please don’t tell her I asked.” Bucky swallows.

After you hung up the phone he had felt like throwing up. He was disgusted at himself. You called in the middle of the night, two months after no contact at all and he didn’t have the decency to at least try to listen. He treated you like shit, instead. You said you wanted to meet in person… But he is terrified to meet you…He’s afraid of himself in your presence. The thing is he made a commitment with Anna and he knows it’s what’s best for everybody if you two stay away from each other. But he simply can’t shake off the feeling that you might be needing him and it’s been killing him inside.

“Of course,” Steve’s voice brings him back to the present. “But I don’t see why you don’t do it yourself.” Steve shrugs, folding his arms in front of his chest, “And maybe you could apologize for being a jerk, too.”

“Steve…” Bucky groans and his head drops.

“No, Buck I mean it. Sorry but I can’t stand still and quiet while I see my best friend being such a thickhead dumbass. This little arrangement of you and Anna…” He points his finger at Bucky “It will only make things worse, can’t you see?”

“I thought you liked her.” Bucky snaps.

“And I do. We all like Anna.” Steve adds, “She’s always been sweet and all, but I don’t know.” He clicks his tongue and shakes his head lightly, “She used to be your therapist for fuck’s sake. Have you forgotten about that?” Steve opens his arms in a questioning sign, “Don’t you think this is at least a little messed up? I mean… I’m not saying she’s doing something deliberately… It just seems like she’s so in love with you she doesn’t even realize she’s getting into a dangerous territory. Besides, you don’t love her that way and you’ve been lying to yourself if-”

“I don’t get you, Steve. Whose side are you?” Bucky cuts him off, tilting his chin up and crossing his arms over his chest, staring at the other man.

Steve’s expression softens, but the concern still traces his face and voice, “You know damn well whose side I’ll always be on. I just think there’s no way someone won’t get out of this hurt…Odds are it’s going to be the three of you.”

“Listen,” Bucky breathes in before he gets up. He stops right beside Steve and puts a hand on his shoulder, “Just check on her, will ya? And then give me a call.”

He pats Steve’s shoulder and walks away, leaving his frustrated and worried best friend behind.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes angst #bucky angst #looking for a heartbeat #bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky fanfiction

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reeree1500 · 5 years

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The Return- Part 2

Okay y'all so here is part 2 of the Return Series. In this one I decided to give you guys a little of what is going through Bjorn’s head upon meeting (y/n) for the first time in 6 years. And a little side of him that we don't really get to see very often. Ivar s introduced, but nothing really happens yet. Hope you guys like itttt :) Lemme know if y'all wanna be tagged too:)

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 part 8 part 9 Part 10

Taglist : @yanii-the-hippie @oceans-daughter-3 @peaceisadirtyword @laketaj24

Disclaimer: My sucky ass writing; and thank God for my mutuals without y'all Id be going nuts right now. Especially @yanii-the-hippie :)

Bjorn POV

I can't find the words to describe how I'm feeling in this moment. My sister who I've thought was dead for the last 6 years is actually alive... Looking at her stunned face that most probably mirrors mine, I can’t help, but be a pile of different emotions that I cant grasp onto, all except one.

Disappointment in myself. Not only because I wasn't there for her when she needed me, but because I missed all the signs of whatever she had been going through. For years I’ve thought about what it would be like to see her again and asked myself what if she had never left? What could have become of us and our family? What could I have done differently...

I reach down to help her up and all I can do is look into her eyes, looking for some sign that this is just Loki playing around with me. “(Y/N), It really is you.” In a matter of milliseconds, I pull her towards my chest and hug her as if she would disappear again if I let go. “I’ve missed you so much... My whole world came crashing down when you left. It was like losing apart of myself all over again. Just like when Gyda died.” I managed to murmur against her ear through the tears that were threatening to spill.

A muffled I’m sorry comes out from her lips. Thats when I realize that we’re both crying in the middle of the street and people are starting to form a crowd around us. “Let’s go to my cabin, you have a lot of explaining to do (y/n) Lothbrok.” Grasping both (y/n) and her friends hands, I push past the people in the marketplace making my way through the crowds gathering for the feast later tonight. “You know sister, you’ve always had impeccable timing for things. However, coming back from the dead 6 years after we had all thought you were gone, is some next level shit.” (I’ve never been a person to take things really seriously, so I always find myself trying make a joke of things as my coping mechanism. Sometimes I’ll just say things in the worst moments because I cant handle it. This would certainly be one of those times.)

“To be honest with you Bjorn, Im not sure if I did the right thing by coming back...” (Y/N) whispers as we reach the cabin steps. At that moment something came over me and I snapped. But before I got the chance to yell at her, I pushed them both inside and shut the door behind me. With my head against the door and my back turned to them both I couldn't contain my anger any longer. “Why would you say that (Y/N), don't you know the hurt and anger that not only mother and father suffered, but that I did too when you left!” “You didn't have to leave! You had me! Im your brother, for Odin’s sake. My job was to protect you!” at this point I could careless if she saw me cry. Too much had happened in my life, and with (y/n) I could always be myself and let go. Sure I tortured her when we were little, but at the end of the day she's still the only sister I have left, and most of all my rock.

“Bjorn, I never meant to hurt any of you. But, I was in danger. And before you interrupt me and say that you could've protected me. You couldn't have. This was bigger than you and father.” she said whilst wrapping her arms around my torso. Once we both calm down and I properly introduce myself to her friend Mira, (y/n) holds my head in both hands and looks into my eyes. “I came to find answers brother, and I promise you that this time no one will separate us or our family. In that, you have my word.”

“Now let me tell you what truly happened that night 6 years ago...”

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Your POV

After telling Bjorn all that occurred that night and seeing him breakdown in front of me multiple times, I knew that whatever this secret was, it wasn't hurting only me, but those I cared about the most. Bjorn had told me that things had changed drastically after I left. Especially with mother and father. Our once happy family that lived on that beautiful farm, was now separated. I had to figure things out, not only will I stay to find the truth about what happened that night, but I will get my family back together.

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

As the sun went down, the laughter and joyous screams of the people got louder. Through the windows in my brothers cabin I could see a crowd gathering outside the great hall. From what Bjorn told me, father was king of Kattegat and he had been even before I was born, making me a princess here too. I told Bjorn where I had gone to, and how I stayed with Uncle Rollo for the last couple of years. In Frankia, I’m a princess because Uncle Rollo deemed it so. He and Gisela have yet to produce an heir, so my uncle decided to name me as his heir till he was able to produce one, which then in turn I will hand over my title, but still keep some of the land.

“The feast is just about to start and as prince and hopefully next in line to the throne, I have to make an appearance.” Bjorn says as he sits down by the table drinking some ale. “Bjorn, you're the only male heir to our family, of course you’ll be next in line.” I say as I chug back some of it back. “Well (y/n), you see...” Before he could finish his sentence the sound of a horn caught our attention. “What’s the horn for?” Mira asks from where she sits next to the fireplace. “Its to let the people of Kattegat know that tonight we feast and tomorrow were off to raid.” Bjorn says while getting up from his seat. “Its also an indication that we all need to be there. Now.”

“Bjorn, Im not even properly dressed for a feast for God’s sake.” I tell him frantically, but in reality I just don't feel like I can face my father after all this time. “(Y/n), I’m your brother. I know that you're just scared, of what will happen. But you're here to find the truth, and I will help you every step of the way, but you have to find the courage to face this. Okay?” Bjorn says while grasping both of my hands in his. “That still doesn't solve the issue that we both don't have anything to wear for the feast. My lord.” Mira murmurs from beside me. “Mira, Bjorn is fine, Im not really into formalities. And as for the dresses here I have some. Don't ask I’ll explain later.”

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“Now Bjorn, Im not gonna ask you now why you have these dresses laying around in your home, but I will later.” I say as we make our way through the crowds and into a small space in the corner of the great hall. “You know sister, one thing I haven't missed about you is your sassiness and how annoying you could be.” Bjorn says as I roll my eyes at him. “You're just mad you're little friend Mira couldn't be here, cuz she said they were ‘too revealing’, whatever that means.” Its true, Mira had felt uncomfortable to be surrounded by men whilst wearing that thin piece of cloth that is considered a dress here. Christians are more conservative, I on the other hand don't mind wearing the dresses as I grew up around the culture here so to me they don't seem too revealing.

“You cant blame the girl, she's Christian.” I whisper back to him. “So are you and you don't have a problem.” “Because brother, Im a viking too.” at that Bjorn scoffs. Before Im able to say something to him a loud echo can be heard in the great hall. Bjorn moves us a little closer so we are able to see what's happening, but without being noticed. Through the doors appear 4 young men. You can tell that these men must be of some importance as the room goes silent. In turn a lady with kohl around her eyes comes next and sits on the one of the chairs in the middle. The people in the hall resume their drinking and games. It is then when I notice my dear brother walking away from me and towards the 4 young men. “Bjorn, what are you doing, you idiot!” I say to him whilst trying to get to where he is.

“Its okay, just come here. I have some people you should meet.” he says all but too casually. “Bjorn, no. You know what Im leaving.” As I turn to leave Bjorn’s hand shoot out to grasp onto mine and pull me towards the table with the young men. “Well if it isn't Bjorn Ironside. To what do we owe this unpleasant surprise.” the young and dark haired one says. “Its really unpleasant to see you too Ivar.” In this moment I notice a darkness wash over this mans face, expecting him to stand up and throw something I take a step back and thats when I noticed the metal that has his leg. This man is a cripple. But, something tells me that he is someone to look out for. Whether it be out of fear or intrigue I do not know.

“Now, now Ivar calm yourself. Bjorn obviously has some company and it would be rude to not introduce ourselves.” This one seems to be very confident in himself. If it weren't for the chicken in his hand I might've actually thought that he was cute. “Im Hvitserk, pleasure to meet you....” “(y/n), it’s a pleasure to meet you as well.”

“I never pegged you for one to like Christian girls Bjorn?” says Hvitserk. “ Hn... whatever.” As Bjorn continues his conversation with Hvitserk, I introduce myself to Ubbe, who looks really similar to Bjorn in some ways. And Sigurd, he seems shy. As soon as he said hello, just as quick he got up and left. I guess he's not one to party. As I find myself in conversation with Ubbe, I cant seem to shake the feeling that Im being stared at. And Im right, Ivar who seems to be the youngest of them all, keeps staring at me. Theres no emotion in his face, so it feels as if he is studying my every move. “So, Bjorn how was the Mediterranean?” the woman to the right of Ubbe says. “It was fine. No need to pretend you actually care.” Bjorn says whilst glaring holes through her.

“Bjorn!! Don't be rude, she's just asking you a question.” I say glaring back at him. “If you knew who she was, you wouldn't be so quick to defend her (y/n).” And with that Bjorn gets up and just as Im about to take a bite from the freshly baked bread he grabs my arm and rushes me across the room. In the midst of telling Bjorn off for his rude behaviour. The room goes quiet. We both turn to see what the cause of the stillness was. And there he was. My father, Ragnar Lothbrok, entering the room with what seemed to be two friends or allies of his. I turn my gaze to the ground as to not make eye contact. But as God would have it, the first person he sees would be my brother.

“Well, it seems my son has returned.” at that the room bursts with loud chanting appreciating that Bjorn has come home safe. “And with whom might I ask.” In that moment I felt as if I could not breathe, and I couldn't haven't been more grateful to the fact that my brother was with me. Bjorn leaned down and whispered. “All will be alright, Im here for you. I always have been and I always will be. No matter what.”

In that moment, staring into the reassuring eyes of my brother. I turn to face the man who had been my strength and biggest support throughout my life. The jug of ale in my fathers hand drops. At that, the room stills. And it feels as if all eyes are now on us. His name comes out from my lips in a barely audible tone. “Papa...” at that the tears we were both holding fall down our faces. My father rushes from the other side of the room to where I’m standing and embraces me. “How is this possible, you were taken from me. I thought I lost you like I did your sister.” My father pulls back from the embrace to study my face just like Bjorn had. “Bjorn, tell me this isn't a dream, that she's really come back to us.” “ it's not a dream father, she's really back.”

My father wipes my tears away and pulls me to the centre of the room. “People of Kattegat, 6 years ago, I lost my youngest child. But, now by the grace of Odin and Freyja, she has been brought back to me. Tonight we not only celebrate the start of Spring and our raids. But, the fact that my children have been brought back to me safe! Skal!” at that everyone’s horns are raised.

In this moment my eyes lock with Ivar’s and in that instant I knew that the road ahead would be long. It would hold many obstacles, but somehow I had a feeling he would make them go away....

#vikings #vikings ivar #ivar lothbrok #ivar's heathen army #ivar x reader #bjorn lothbrok #hvitserk #hvitserk x reader #ragnar x lagertha #ragnarsdottir #ragnar lothbrok #vikings fandom #vikings fanfiction #vikings history channel #ask to tag

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frankieabii · 5 years

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|| Dear No One || Ch. 1

Summary: Bay St.James was perfectly happy crushing on guys from afar and writing love letters that she never dreamed she’d send. So what happens when the letters she prayed no one ever saw, suddenly got sent out to their intended recipients? Especially when one of those happens to be Bay’s sister’s boyfriend!

Pairing: Jungkook x OC, Yoongi x OC, Jimin x OC, Taehyung x OC, Hoseok x OC, Namjoon x OC, Jin x OC

Genre: Fluff, Romance, To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before!au, High School!au, Fake Dating!au, Friends To Lovers!au

Word Count: 1595

Warnings: none

Author’s Note: Holy crap my friends I am so freaking excited to post this story! I’m a HUGE ASS fan of TATBILB and I just HAD TO put it into a series. thanks to @chan-yolo for being so supportive of me writing this and reading everything for me lmao. CHAPTER 1 IS HERE!

For as long as I can remember, I have liked to save things, never anything important or relevant like the planet or an endangered species, hell, or even a cat stuck in a tree! It was always small things, charms, trinkets; like those small ugly porcelain figures you can find in thrift shops. Hair scrunchies by the bucket load. Love letters. Out of everything I have ever saved, my love letters are the things that mean the most to me.

The letters are kept hidden in a lilac box, topped with a silk rose that my mom got me when I was a child, from an old store in our town that no longer exists. They aren’t love letters, romantic notions, that someone else has written to me; I don’t get those. No, these are ones that I have written myself, and there's one for every boy I have ever loved - seven in total.

The first was Jungkook, when I was seven years old. Jungkook Jeon was the son of one of my mom's friends, a couple of years younger than myself but cuter than a bunny in spring. Floppy dark hair that always fell into in big brown eyes, and a little smile that resembled that of a bunny rabbit, tiny, sweet and blushing. I remember him coming over for playdates with myself and my sisters, which always ended up with us picking the games, overruling all ideas that Jungkook had had, insisting that we play house, dress up or have a tea party. I cringe at the thought now, how mean it was to force this five-year-old boy into tiaras and fairy wings, to be the dad when we played house. It went along for a year, until his dad got a job overseas and they moved away. I wrote the letter the day I found out he moved.

Next was Yoongi Min, a boy a year older than my nine-year-old self. He wasn't much taller than me but had warm brown eyes and a small smile when he was shy and a big gummy smile that could light up a room when he was laughing. Our dads worked together at the time, and his dad held a Christmas party for several of his work colleagues and their families, and my family was invited. It was a nice party, fancy food and glittering decorations that hung from the ceiling, and I enjoyed it until my nine-year-old self was unknowingly stood under mistletoe next to Yoongi. His mom insisted that he kiss me, as I was stood frozen in fear, he pressed a quick kiss to my cheek and then ran away very promptly, not before giving me one of his precious gummy smiles. I wrote Yoongi’s letter on New Year's Eve, and my dad got a new job a week later.

When I was eleven years old, there was Jimin Park, angelic face and innocent eyes that turned moon-shaped when he smiled or laughed. My mom had signed me up to dance lessons, and Jimin was assigned to be my partner. He moved so gracefully and elegantly, whilst I stomped around like an elephant in an awful mood. He was always so eager to help me perfect the dances and the movements, always patient when I struggled and enthusiastic when I got it right. Then, for Jimin, puberty hit like a bat out of hell and suddenly every girl wanted to be his dance partner, and I was cast aside like yesterdays news. Jimin’s letter was written in anger, that day after I got home, and refused a dance lesson ever again.

I fell in love with Taehyung Kim when I was thirteen years old at Evergreen Summer Camp. Taehyung had long dark hair that fell onto his eyes when he laughed, and a boxy smile that made him charmingly adorable. He was smart and funny, and was always causing mischief around the camp that my mom had insisted on sending me to, as my older sister Ivy had gone a few years prior and wanted to make it a tradition amongst my sisters and I. I followed him around like a lost puppy and clung onto his every word like a spider monkey, until he pushed me into the lake and laughed at me with his friends. I wrote his letter in my bunk, my hair matted with salt lake water.

Hoseok Jung was my first ever date. When his sunshine bright smile had asked me to a school dance when I was fourteen years old, I couldn’t say no. Hoseok had gotten me a flower to pin into my hair, that matched the one pinned onto the pocket of his shirt. We had laughed, and danced all night; myself horrifically and he danced with rhythm and excitement in every move. He kept dragging me out onto the dancefloor, even when I had protested that my feet were about to fall off, he spun me around the dancefloor like we were the only two in the room. He made my heart spin around the dancefloor too, so I wrote him a letter.

At 16 years old I fell in love with Namjoon Kim. With his blonde hair cut into a fashionable style; longer on top, with an undercut on the side, his black-framed glasses, the adorable dimples that graced his cheeks whenever he laughed or smiled, and his ability to recite a Friends quote for every occasion. Namjoon was smart, and somewhat popular, not through sports, mostly by association with the ‘in-crowd’, but still much more popular than myself and the friends I could count on one hand. It was about halfway through the school year when we were all invited to a party at one of the popular kid's houses, with smuggled alcohol and kids dancing on each other in every corner. Not exactly my scene, but coerced into going by my sister Ivy, and we somehow managed to get roped into playing a game of Spin The Bottle. And Namjoon was sat in the circle, his smile slightly hazy from alcohol he had consumed, but his eyes still bright and aware of what he was doing. So we took it turns to play, each of spinning the empty beer bottle, kissing whoever it landed on. The boys all whooped and hollered whenever someone kissed, and I buried myself further and further into my jumper, thankful that the bottle missed me each time. Until it was Namjoon's turn, that was. The bottle spun round and round, over and over until it achingly came to a stop and my feet, a blush rising to my cheeks in an instant, Ivy’s eyes widening in surprise. And so, playing by the rules, he kissed me. I wrote Namjoons letter a week later, after some several daydreams about that kiss.

And finally, number seven. Seokjin Kim. Jin. Jin is the year above me at school, and the year below Ivy, and moved into the house next door to us about four years ago. He and I became friends instantly, sharing the same taste in music and movies, and playing weird questions games for hours. I never really realized I had loved him until Jin and Ivy started dating about a year and a half ago. And then I wrote his letter.

When I write the letters, I don't hold back. I write about all the things I love, that annoy me, that makes me weak at the knees. Everything I think and feel goes into the letters, every secret thought, every careful glance of observation. Nothing is left out, as I write like he’ll never read the letter because he never will. And then when I’m done, the letter is sealed forevermore in an envelope, addressed, and then stored away in the lilac box.

But my letters aren’t love letters by definition. I write the love letters when I want the crush to be over. Done with. They’re goodbye to the feelings and thoughts that the crush gave to me. After I’ve written the letter, I feel a weight off of my heart and my shoulders, and I’m now longer weighed down by all-consuming love. I can go about my day like normal, I can watch a movie and eat popcorn and not wonder which sodas he likes to drink with his popcorn; apple tango for me, or if he’s more of a sprite kind of guy. I can sing along to songs on the radio and not be belting out my heart for him. My letters are my freedom, they set me free from my crush. Or at least I thought they would.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts x oc #bts series #namjoon x oc #rm x oc #jin x oc #seokjin x oc #hoseok x oc #jhope x oc #jungkook x oc #jimin x oc #yoongi x oc #suga x oc #v x oc #taehyung x oc

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aj-artjunkyard · 5 years

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Trials Of Apollo Oneshot Series CHAPTER FIVE

This is a post-ToA chapter! Takes place after Apollo regains his immortality.

I sighed. Strolling aimlessly through the halls of my palace on Olympus, I wondered if it had always been this unappealing. The gold trimmings seemed fake. The extravagant furniture felt uncomfortable. Even my bed was too big. Every shiny object played murder on my eyes, and every smooth surface was too warm to be refreshing. It just wasn’t homey. Not like the Waystation or Aeithales or either demigod camps. It felt more like a sized-up garage to keep a fancy car in.

I found myself yearning to be outdoors - no uncommon craving. Like my twin, most of my domains are set in the great outside world. I threw open the golden double doors of the balcony, closed my eyes and breathed in the fresh Olympian air. There was still something missing. Furrowing my eyebrows in frustration, I opened my eyes and glanced around for anything that might sate my dissatisfaction, when my sight landed on a certain figure making her way through the buzzing streets of Olympus and towards the entrance of my palace. I felt a natural smile creep onto my face. I would have to look for the missing thing later. Right now, I needed to be with my mother.

…

We had been in this comforting embrace for almost ten minutes now. I combed my fingers through Leto’s caramel hair while she sobbed into my shoulder, her frame shaking considerably. I felt the wet tears soaking through my jacket and dampening the shirt beneath. I pressed my lips against her forehead, hoping to make her content enough to talk to me. Eventually, she pulled away and reached up, running her fingers through my hair, almost to reassure herself that I was actually there. She looked deep into my eyes, while tears danced in her own. I took her hands in my own, and gently led her to a white sofa, which was far to big for the space of the room. It looked like whoever had put it there was just trying to cram as much unneeded furniture into one place as they could. Oh wait…that may have been me.

Leto sat down beside me. She sniffled a little, avoiding my eyes. She fiddled with the brooch on my toga. I held her hand. She squeezed it.

“Apollo…” she trailed off, seeming lost in her mind.

“I’m alright now Mother,” I said in an effort to soothe her. “I’m immortal again. I cannot die. I learnt a lot too. And I want to apologise for not being the most attentive of sons. I should visit you more, and I will! Really, father was right to-”

“-NO!”

I fell silent, shocked that my mother would ever scream in such a tone. She looked at me, and I noticed how tired she was. No doubt staying up to watch every second of my quests, worried sick that something might happen if she took her eyes off me. It would not be out of character for her to do such things.

“Your father was not right to punish you in such a cruel manner. To have you forced into servitude, with next to no natural means to protect yourself or others!”

“Honestly, Mother I-”

She held up a hand for quiet. I obeyed.

“I know you should not have done the things you did. I know you’ve learned. That does not warrant your father’s merciless behaviour. You kept getting hurt and I could do nothing, he said if he caught me in the act of helping, he would make it worse for you. He said there would be more deaths, more guilt. So I obliged. I made sure he didn’t catch me. I convinced Artemis to send her hunters. I persuaded Hermes to crash the sun, and Athena to lure you to the child-” she paused. “-Whom I have been caring for. He is named Cindeo - the one who escapes danger.”

I nodded. “I see you have been taking care of everyone.”

“That is indeed my sole purpose, yes. It distracted me, which Artemis says is a good thing. But still…I was watching. That day on the boat.”

I swallowed a lump in my throat. I knew exactly what she would be referring to before she even said it. “You stabbed yourself.”

I drew in a sharp intake of breath, remembering the pain.

“I knew Medea would heal me.”

“You did it willingly.”

“It was only a distraction.”

“What was? Your life?”

“Caligula needed me alive more than my friends did.”

“They all needed you in the end, Apollo! I needed…I needed you.”

We sat, not talking. Just staring at each other, mentally comparing our broken pieces. I was willing to gather my pieces - make something new. I knew my mother wanted that as much as I did. We hugged again, this one lasting even longer. Neither party minded. Her caramel hair still smelt of honeysuckle, a trait inherited by my sister. She was still soft and warm and safe. After all these centuries, she had not changed. I was glad.

After an eternity, we separated. I examined my mother, my medical urges setting in.

“You look like you haven’t slept since I woke up in that dumpster. You need rest.”

She shook her head. “Apollo, you just got back. If you think I’m going to-”

“And I’ll be here when you wake up. Why don’t you use my bedroom? That way you won’t really be leaving. I’ll still be around, I promise. Even if you sleep as long as Gaea did.” She tried to protest, but I easily guided her to my sleeping quarters. By the time we arrived, Leto was practically using me as her only way of staying upright. I gently laid her down on my king-sized mattress, and she immediately melted into the warmth of the duvet.

I made my way to the kitchen, intent to taste ambrosia for the first time in months. A shape shimmered into existence on the blinding white counter. A freshly baked pie. Curious, I picked up the little note beside it, which read in perfect ancient greek calligraphy;

You deserve it! I love you!

-Leto

I chuckled and called down the hall, “Go to sleep!”

To which I received a muffled “I am, I am!”

I grabbed the pie and sniffed, enjoying my newly heightened senses. I could tell exactly what was in it. Ambrosia, sugar and chunky slices of…baked apple. The smell smacked me as violently as my realisation. My palace was golden, hard and shiny. It was devoid of life. Life like that of a particularly bossy half-blood. I decided to call in a discreet demigod quest.

…

“Soooo…about this quest.”

“Yes?”

“It was to help you plant stuff?”

I patted down the soil around a sweet-smelling Hyacinth. We sat in a huge garden positioned behind my palace. I had never fully understood why it was here. What was its purpose? Why would you look at some boring old trees when my palace was right at the end of the long, wide strip of grass, glowing golden and easily mistaken for a beautiful sunset in the evening? Once, I had even petitioned for the land to be flattened and used for a theatre (Dionysus and the muses backed me up, but Demeter, Poseidon and Artemis were strongly against it). But now, I smiled to myself as I began to see its importance.

“I don’t know what you find so complicated about this, Meg. I thought you liked gardening.”

My former master scrunched up her nose, pushing her cat-eye glasses further up her face. Her hands were caked with mud and the knees of her new leggings were already ruined. She had not wanted to change her dress, but when Percy mentioned to Mrs Jackson that she was still wearing the same borrowed garment from several months before, Sally had sent a package and insisted she change clothes every once in a while. Meg had donned the teal tunic and green leggings ever since. Such was the fashion sense of The Meg.

“Well, yeah. But I don’t think you’re allowed to call it a quest.”

“You were summoned to assist a god, were you not?”

“Duh.”

“So you are on a quest.”

“To plant flowers.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Meg shrugged. “Okay. But how do you plan to explain it to Zeu-” I cleared my throat loudly, glaring obviously at my reckless young friend. How many times did I have to tell her that names hold power? I definitely did not have a bullet-proof backup plan incase my father did find out, so I did not want to draw his attention and let him in on my little secret. That would not go well for anyone, trust me.

“How do you plan to explain it to your father?” Meg corrected. Satisfied with that adjustment, I turned my attention back to my Hyacinth.

“I’m not going to.”

“That’s a stupid plan.”

“I would have thought you’d know me better than to assume I have a real one.”

“That’s fair, you’re pretty dumb.”

“Hey!” I threw a clod of dirt at her, which hit her right in the centre of her forehead. We shared a look of mild amazement. I actually hit my target. It had been a while. I grinned with triumph, but it was soon smacked off my face as I got hit full whack with a dirt ball to the cheek. Then our eyes met in silent challenge. We both accepted.

It only took fifteen minutes for the massive garden to become an all-out war zone. There was no safe place. Dirt flew every direction, and we both took advantage of our own abilities - Meg using plants to trip me up or willing the dirt to fly with excruciating accuracy, and me, using beams of sunlight to reflect off Meg’s glasses and blind her, and when I found her charging at me, I flew over her head, just to be annoying.

When Meg shoved half a dozen handfuls of mud down my shirt, I decided to play dirty (well...dirtier). I conjured a hose, and watched with enormous enjoyment as Meg’s cocky grin melted into morphed into one of realisation and fear. I blasted her.

We chased each other around the grass, continuously soaking each other (Meg had used a plant pot as a bucket and filled it in a nearby pond) until the sky started to dim. It was early January, so it wasn’t too late, maybe six o’clock. Cold and exhausted, we made our way back towards my palace. My mother was waiting in the kitchen when we arrived, a new apple pie steaming on the dining table. She tutted at our wet cloths and sopping hair. With a wave of her dainty hand, Meg and I immediately dried.

“You let the other one go cold, dear,” Leto smiled, gesturing at the pie. Two golden-rimmed plates, complete with solid gold knives and forks which shimmered into existence beside it.

“Thank you Mother!” I said excitedly, kissing her on the cheek and sitting down at the table. Meg looked more wary. She eyed my mother suspiciously, while Leto smiled softly at her. Stepping closer to the table, perhaps under pressure, Meg inquired, “Is there ambrosia in it? I can’t eat much of that stuff.”

Leto laughed. “Yes, dear. But only traces. Only eat a slice or two, and you’ll be absolutely okay.”

I turned around in my chair and grinned over the backrest at them.

“Meg, it’s fine. She wouldn’t hurt a fly, would you, Mother?”

Leto looked horrified. “Of course not! Why would I damage such a harmless creature that’s so vital to the nutrition of other creatures?”

I gave Meg a look. “See?”

Meg seemed satisfied with that answer, but was still cautious in her approach to the table. But after no more than fifteen seconds, she was shovelling in mouthful after mouthful with incredible velocity, rapidly cleansing her plate of any crumbs. My Mother watched her with intrigue, and I could almost see the cogs turning in her head. While Meg helped herself to seconds, Leto quietly pulled me aside.

“When was the last time the child ate?” She whispered urgently, casting solicitous glances over at my young companion.

“It can’t have been long ago. Meg eats a lot,” I reassured. Her shoulders relaxed, her gaze softened. Leto looked thoughtfully back over at Meg.

“Does she have somewhere to stay?”

“I believe she intends to become a year-rounder at Camp Half-Blood. She’ll be with her siblings and cousins there. Her family.”

“Mmm…”

“Mother?” Leto peered deep into my metallic gold irises. Then back looked at Meg. Then back at me. “What are you thinking?”

“If she is to remain at Camp Half-Blood, you will not be able to meet with her. I implore you, son. Look into the future. What possibilities do you see for her there?”

I concentrated, absorbing in every part of Meg’s being and taking into account every decision I’d ever seen her make. (Being a god, this was easy. Oh, how I enjoyed the wonders of a working memory!) I started off simple to ease myself back into prophecy, by predicting where her fork would land next. [She will miss the pie and stab the plate] Clank! My power proved to be working. I stretched myself a bit further, into next week. I saw her hold up a red flag in triumph. [She will win Capture The Flag for the Demeter, Hades, Dionysus and Apollo cabins] Yes, that seemed plausible.

Then I looked years ahead, in fast-forward. I laid every likely option and decision for Meg out on a metaphorical table in front of me and examined them all. Useless nonsense rushed past me as I sifted through the possibilities. [On May 23rd, she will eat meatloaf for dinner] [Exactly two weeks from now, she will push a son of Dionysus into the lake] [In three years, she will set Peaches loose on a rabid Manticore] None of these helped me. I searched for the correct timeline, the one where she stayed at Camp. I found it.

[She will miss Apollo] Fair, I would miss her too. [She will feel lonely] I will too, friend. [She will distance herself from anything to do with Apollo, including his children] Wait, no- [She no longer considers Apollo to be a friend] STOP!

My eyes flew open. My mother held onto my arm, steadying me. Meg had turned around in her chair, seeming concerned.

“You okay?”

I stumbled for an answer. Would she really dismiss me? Would I dismiss her? “Uh, yes. Yes, everything is fine.” Meg’s eyebrows scrunched behind her cat-eye glasses. The rhinestones caught the light, and shone brightly.

“You look sick,” she announced, with her usual Meggy bluntness.

“Thanks,” I grumbled. “Meg, it’s getting late. Perhaps I should send you back to Camp.”

Meg pouted. “Why can’t I stay?”

“You know why. Father can’t find out you’re here.”

Meg groaned. “Ugh. Okay. Just don’t forget about me or I’ll march right back to kick you in the kneecaps.”

I smiled. “I would not dream of it. See you soon.” I waved my hand and Meg evaporated in a shower of gold, and I felt her reappear safely at Half-Blood Hill.

My mother turned to me.

“Well?”

…

We sat on the cold stone steps of the amphitheatre, where I’d dazzled the demigods into minor depression with my Lydian and one-four-five Progressions so many moons ago.

It was late afternoon and the sun shone softly through the trees, scattering beams of light around the secluded area. I appeared similar to what I had a few days ago, only this time I had donned a more ‘modern’ look from my usual toga. I wore an ACDC t-shirt under an unzipped orange and white jacket. My jeans were worn pale at the knees and hems, which contrasted the bright red of my nike trainers. Only my hair was much the same - long, blond and flowing down to my shoulders.

Little sparks of light bounced cheerfully off of Meg’s rhinestones. She kicked a pebble down the steps, and watched in fascination as it skipped, making tic tic tic sounds all the way to the bottom. She was still wearing the same teal tunic and green leggings, her gardener’s belt hanging loosely around her waist. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, she spoke.

“You said you wanted to ask me something?”

I nodded. “Yes, but I want to inform you that how you answer will not affect my view of you in the slightest. I will always admire you, whether you turn down my offer or not.”

“Offer?”

I laced my fingers, trying to think of the best way to word it.

“Following your recent quest,” (Meg snorted. I continued.) “I realised that I will not be able to see you as often as I would like. I will not be able to intervene on future quests, or protect you much beyond what my father allows. It will most likely be a long time before all the gods begin to treat the mortals as beings. I will also have to endure the endless mocking from my fellow gods, simply for changing my morals, and someone with mortal experience would be good to keep me straight. So, my offer to you, should you choose to accept it, is the offer of immortality. I would like you to live on Olympus, with me.” Meg’s eyes widened. Her jaw dropped. Seeing this, I rushed to hastily add to my unexpected statement. “Now, please know that this is not a one-time offer. You can say ‘No’ now, and come back later! Or not. Whatever you choose, I’ll always be looking out for you, okay?” Meg furrowed her eyebrows and blew out her cheeks in concentration. I watched her, not quite knowing if I should say more.

“Will I have to leave Camp forever? Will I be able to visit?”

“That’s the thing. You would only be allowed to visit if you have a specific purpose for coming, and you would have to make sure it’s iron-clad just in case Zeus confronts you about it. But I am working on finally getting those laws abolished. Hopefully, one day, you will be able to come simply because you want to. The catch is; I am not sure how long it will be until that happens.”

“So all my siblings might be dead.” I smiled sympathetically, feeling the chance of her accepting my offer sinking dramatically.

“Most likely.”

Meg gained her closed-off expression, her guards shooting up to prevent any and all emotional damage. I held my breath, waiting patiently for her to respond. It took a few minutes. Finally, Meg uttered at an almost indecipherable volume, “Can I think about it?”

I breathed a sigh of relief. That was not a no. There was still time to convince her.

“Of course, dear Meg.”

Abruptly, Meg stood and sprinted back towards Cabin Four without another word. I had expected this, but it still threw me through a loop. I ran my fingers through my luscious blond hair, and inhaled deeply through my nose. While I was lost in my thoughts, a voice suddenly piped up and made me jump a foot in the air in surprise.

“Hey Dad!”

Gasping sharply and clutching my hand to my thumping heart, I turned to meet the speaker. My son, Austin Lake, stood before me holding a battered, grey-silver saxophone and smiling nervously. I gestured for him to come and sit with me. He complied.

“You here to see Meg?”

I wrapped my strong arm around him, and pulled him close to my side. “I was going to visit you kids too, but you ruined the surprise.” I punctuated my statement with noogie on Austin’s cornrows. He giggled and shuffled closer to me, absolutely failing at being inconspicuous. I didn’t mind. My kids and I are born to be obvious. Why hide something good?

I gestured to his beaten saxophone. “What happened there? The Ares kids?”

“Nah. I never found the one I lost in the labyrinth, so I had to take this old one from the back of Cabin Seven. I don’t think it’s been used since before that orientation film was made.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “It sounds fine, but I wish it had I bit more…I don’t know…pizzazz? Flash?”

“A bit of shine is never amiss,” I agreed.

“It doesn’t matter anyways. I tested it out on Miranda Gardener and Sherman Yang, and they did kiss when I played ‘Careless Whisper’, but it just doesn’t help the whole YouTube thing, y’know?”

“Of course. Sometimes people simply refuse to take you seriously unless you look the part. A frustrating yet universal part of showmanship - one that none of my children should have to deal with.” I waved my hand, and the old saxophone glowed, and began to fix it’s dents. The tired looking grey colour ebbed away and darkened, a black sheen taking it’s place. The keys and rods however, brightened until they shone gold. Soon Austin was holding a very classy jazz saxophone that matched his black woollen peacoat. I am extremely conscious of the instrument matching the style of the musician, hence why all my instruments include some form of precious metal or stone.

Austin’s brown eyes glittered with pure excitement.

“Thanks Dad! You’re the best!” He launched himself into me hugged me like he would never let go. I drew him closer to me, savouring every moment. I heard him mumble something unintelligible into my chest.

“What was that you said?” I asked. My boy tilted his head up slightly, so I could only see his eyes and above past the folds of my ACDC tee. He repeated himself a bit louder.

“Do you read all our messages? Like, the ones Chiron gets us to write to our godly parents?”

I chuckled, raised one hand for dramatic effect and recited:

“Hey dad! I’m Austin

Chiron said you like haikus

Poetry is cool”

“Nooooo….” Austin groaned. “I can’t write poetry for my life…”

“I think it’s great! You were only, what,” I counted on my fingers. “Seven at the time?”

“And already better than your dad!” An unknown voice rang out loudly from behind us, making us snap back from each other and whip around to face the impish figure. Hermes held up his hands in mock surrender, his signature stupid grin plastered on his face as he sauntered towards us. His dirty blond hair bobbed in its curls with every step he took. He nodded to Austin.

“‘Sup kid? Did anyone ever tell you about the time Apollo was obsessed with Limericks? Maybe you could compose one of those about your old man’s ‘awesomeness’,” (emphasising the ‘awesomeness’ with air quotes. Humph!) “and send it to me later, yeah? For mocking purposes only, of course.” Austin shifted uncomfortably, clearly not thrilled to have been interrupted from rare cool father/cool son bonding time. I knew how tricky Hermes could be, and I definitely did not want to put my son through the embarrassment of somehow signing off his mother’s inheritance to cattle farmers in Indonesia, so I took initiative.

“Austin, why don’t you go show off your new saxophone to your siblings? I promise I will come back to visit again soon.”

Hermes snorted. “Yeah, maybe don’t swear on the Styx though, bro. Dad wants to see you about some flower planting quest.” His grin spread like he had just cracked an atrocious pun, and was awaiting the groans of his audience. “He’s soooo mad.” I gave a reassuring smile down to my apprehensive son.

“Do not worry about me, child. Hermes is a known fibber. I’m sure he’s not that furious. It will be fine.”

...

It was not fine.

As soon as I entered my father’s personal throne room, I could tell. The enchanted ceiling was dark with storm clouds. The atmosphere was thick and heavy with static and tension. I felt a trickle of sweat run down my back.

My father sat on a proud marble throne, its veins of grey curling like smoke throughout the white stone. The king himself wore a smart navy suit, complete with a matching tie and a mid-length salt and pepper beard that overshadowed his mouth. His long hair was styled not unlike my own, except a lot darker and less flamboyant. He took the form of a man in his late 40’s, but could only be shown by the unfashionable wrinkles around his eyes. He was well built, and, despite my love for my eight-pack, far more muscular than I thought was attractive or necessary. He glared down his nose at me as I walked down the aisle of blue carpet towards his feet.

He must have been forty foot tall, which was big even for a god. I stood at a more natural twenty. I did not dare make myself bigger. I did not want my father to be under the impression that I wanted to intimidate him. I did not.

I bowed at my father’s feet and lowered my head, waiting for the word to stand up. It did not come. Instead my father spoke in his low growl:

“Apollo.”

I swallowed my anxieties and forced myself to look up into his eyes. They were not their usual electric blue, as so many of his offspring had inherited, but they had been clouded over with a thick, angry grey mist. His dark brows were furrowed in concentration. A permanent scowl was fixed on his features. I willed my voice not to squeak or crack.

“Yes, father?” Zeus’s scowl deepened.

“Do you think I am witless, boy?” He rumbled.

“I - no, father,” I stammered. Zeus leaned forward in his throne, glaring holes through my head.

“Do you think I am beneath you?”

“Wha - no!” My hands subconsciously gripped my jacket and fiddled furiously with the zip. I could feel my godly sweat making the cool metal slippery. The air around Zeus condensed into a dark haze. Lighting cackled like an entourage of jeering bullies, laughing at my panicked face and hopeless predicament.

“YET YOU STILL DISOBEY ME?” I took several deep breaths. I was a god. I had faced python, while mortal, and defeated him. I was still undoubtedly terrified, but I thought of Meg, of my children, of Perseus Jackson. They needed me to take this first step into defending the demigods. My face hardened. My voice was calm, quiet and deliberate, but hid a tsunami of fear.

“Name the law.” My father’s raised bolt faltered, reflecting his confusion.

“What?”

“Name the law,” I repeated. “Name the law I have broken by ordering a demigod, whom I know well and am sure is capable of being assigned a task, to go on a quest.”

Zeus gritted his teeth, and growled in his gritty voice; “I watched you play, boy. Do you think you are humorous? Do you think you can scorn my gift in such ways? I gave you immortality. I made you a god! Yet you run around like a hooligan, associating with these lesser beings, for what? Your twisted idea of justice? I am the god of justice, you insolent child. I have decided our laws, and I can make more laws if I so wish. Do not test me.”

“As I remember brother,” a feminine voice cut the thick tension of the room, “You need council approval to decree a new law. Am I correct?” Zeus scowled, but his anger visibly dissipated. He sat back in his chair as the dark clouds surrounding the throne lightened into grey wisps, like one might see on a dull autumn’s day. I did not dare turn my back to my father to see the speaker, though I knew the voice well - a voice older than Zeus’. I kept my kneeling position, hearing the footsteps of the graceful Olympian stride down the single strip of carpet, stopping just behind me. I felt a soft hand on my shoulder. It pulled me up until I stood beside the tall, warm figure of Demeter, the goddess of agriculture.

She wore a simple, emerald-coloured dress that flowed down to her ankles, revealing a pair of bronze-coloured sandals. A thin, gossamer shawl of sage-like hue was wrapped around her shoulders and hung around her tanned arms. Her wavy blonde hair shared an alikeness to that of Sleeping Beauty’s. A ring of glittering corn stalks circled her brow. Her form was a few inches taller than my own. She kept her hand firm on my shoulder and glared defiantly up at Zeus with those striking green eyes.

“Margaret is my daughter. I invited her to Olympus to congratulate her on finishing her quest, as is customary. She and Apollo simply conversed over some flowers.” She looked down at me. “And I for one, am pleased that Apollo is finally making good use of that great space.” I smiled up at her, then glanced nervously at Zeus. His mighty hand stroked his beard in thought. At last, grumbled and said;

“Very well,” his deep voice echoed throughout the hall. “But be warned. Next time that mortal comes to this land with no believable reasoning, I will not be so merciful.”

“Of course, my lord.” Demeter and I both bowed in respect (well, more so ‘custom’ or ‘fear’ than respect, but whatever) and made our way out into the cheery sunlight, leaving the clammy throne room behind us.

We wandered down the streets in silence, watching all the minor deities, cloud nymphs and satyrs frolic and chat excitedly. I got a few gazes from a group of dryads, but thought nothing of it. Perhaps they had heard of what I did for the Palm Springs residents. Did dryads have some sort of mental link or Whatsapp text group? I imagined it would go like: “Hey gurrrll!!! ;D You see all this heatwave shiz??? Gone!!!! Apollo is #greatest” or something similar. After a few minutes, Demeter pulled me to a park bench that overlooked a large, shimmering lake. Ripples glided across the water. Every now and then, a tentacle rose above the surface and plunged back under, sending a spray of droplets to dampen anything in a metre radius. Some hippocampi splashed playfully around the shallows, some allowing a pod of Naiads to stroke their noses and fuss over how cute they were. We watched.

“You did well by my daughter, Apollo,” Demeter mused. She kept her eyes on the lake. No doubt, she was not comfortable congratulating her least favourite nephew, but I admired her determination to go through with it anyways. I may not have done the same. “I am surprised.”

I gave a short laugh. I was used to being mildly insulted. It did not phase nor offend me.

“Meg is truly an extraordinary demigod. You must be very proud.”

“I am.” A small smirk appeared on her otherwise neutral expression. “She is one of my best.”

“She could live here. You’d get to see her. I would too. I think a wild demigod energy such as hers is well needed around here.” The goddess of grain raised an eyebrow, and peered down at me from the corner of her eye. “I have offered her immortality,” I clarified. “She has not yet answered. I think if she accepts, you should be the one to grant her the immortality. Of course, I can do it myself, but I thought it may be more impactful for a mother.” She furrowed her brows, and her corn crown seemed to catch the light of the late afternoon sun, making her eyes hard to focus on.

“Zeus would not approve.”

“Zeus wouldn’t have a say,” I countered. Demeter only nodded her head ever so slightly, her face scrunched in concentration.

“Very well. I will accept if she accepts.”

…

Apollo was stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Meg simply could not understand him. She lay belly down on one of the thick branches of the tree that supported the newly built Cabin Four like a panther reclining in the jungle, contemplating her idiot friend and his dumb offer. She sniffed, shifting her head on the uncomfortable bark. She liked Camp Half-Blood. The food was good, there was some people her age that she could beat in a fight - and older campers she could beat too - sword practice was fun. So was capture the flag. But Meg was alone, and maybe that was good. People crowded her on the first few days after the end of the quest, wanting details about the most dangerous parts. She had even been given a necklace with a single green bead on it that held a picture of a writhing serpent - Python, the monster she and Apollo had slain. Every now and again, an Apollo camper would ask questions about their dad, and she always made sure to give them less than flattering (but truthful) answers.

But that had worn off after a while. People left her alone, apart from Billie Ng and Miranda Gardener, who she was trying to teach how to summon a karpos (they were pretty bad at it). She hated that she missed her partner in crime. But if she left, she would miss her home, where she belonged.

‘Ughghhh” Meg groaned, sliding ungracefully off her branch and landing on the floor with a whump. She rolled onto her back and scowled at the unfairness of having to deal with feelings. Time passed. Eventually, she decided to make a call.

…

I didn’t scream. Nope, definitely not me, the cool and chill god of a-heck-load-of-things. No, I’m quite sure I stayed calm and collected at the sight of Meg McCaffrey appearing in a shimmering vapour form - in my shower.

Fine. I may have screamed. But you cannot blame me! It is one thing to take a shower with a ‘date’, and quite another to be peeked on by a twelve-year-old. I frantically made my best efforts to cover my perfect physique for the sake of the child, who immediately threw her hands over her eyes and made a ‘gross’ face. She wore a baggy Camp Half-Blood T-shirt over her usual dress, and a single bead hung by a thread on her neck.

“Meg, what the actual-” I hissed, cutting myself off. I took a deep breath and held my tongue to refrain myself from swearing in front of a kid (my mother would never let me hear the end of it if I didn’t). “Why are you Iris Messaging me? Now, of all times?”

“I didn’t know you were in the shower, dummy.” Meg blew a raspberry, her vapour form producing a few bubbles in the process. “I didn’t think you had to wash since y’know,” she gestured at my tanned body. I covered myself a little more, even if she did still have her eyes shielded.

“I don’t. It’s just relaxing,” I grumbled, grabbing a towel, wrapping it around my waist and stepping out into the steamy bathroom. I kept the shower running so the Iris Message could continue, which involved getting the towel wet. I prayed the extra weight would not lead to any unexpected revealings.

“I’m not supposed to be taking to you, Meg.”

Meg uncovered her eyes and snorted. “Says who?”

“Says my father.” I felt my face darken. “He heard about your little quest. He told me you could not come here again with out ‘believable reason’.” I punctuated the last part with air quotes.

“I told you that you should’ve had a plan.”

I rolled my eyes and scoffed. “I did have a plan! My plan was for him not to find out.”

“How’d that work out for you?”

“Shut up.” I could not resist the smirk that played on my lips. I wanted to be around my friend more often. She was one of the few who still talked to me as an equal (kind of). The other Olympians…let’s just say they didn’t exactly show me the same level of respect has they had once done, with the limited exceptions of Poseidon (who had been mortal once before) and Artemis (who had never respected me - its a sibling thing). “Listen, I cannot guarantee that my father isn’t keeping a close eye, so let’s make this quick. What did you want to tell me?”

Meg’s face lost its humour. I was afraid she’d back out and end the message. Instead, she spoke. “I thought about your offer.”

I felt my chest swell with hope. Maybe she’d say yes. Maybe she’d come up and be my friend for eternity. Maybe I would have one more person to talk to. “And?”

“No.”

My smile faltered. I felt all sense of excitement in me shatter in that moment as I struggled to put together a sentence. “Wh…what?”

She looked down at her rough, calloused hands. “I don’t want to be a god. I don’t want to live directly under Zeus’s thumb. I killed Nero. I killed him because he was awful and forced me to do stuff I didn’t want to do. He made me feel stupid and useless. I got rid of that.” She stared me directly in the eye. “I never want to feel like that again.”

The argument I’d prepared died in my throat. Could I really blame her? After all, she was right. My father didn’t even allow me to talk to my friend. Meg didn’t want to be oppressed like I was. She was free. That was a feeling I could never truly have. I’d given up on it long ago.

“Yeah,” I croaked. “Okay.”

“Okay,” she mumbled back. “Bye.” Her figure disappeared, and I was left alone, standing in the all-too-quiet bathroom.

“Farewell.”

***

It had been several months since Meg had declined my offer. I still thought about her and my children every day. I searched for and aided a few of my less remembered offspring, guiding them to their respective camps. Thirteen-year-old Seamus, ten-year-old Anthony and two-year-old James made their way to Camp Jupiter. Nine-year-old Aiden, twelve-year-old Dwayne and six-year-old Marigold travelled to Camp Half-Blood. I had just ensured the safe arrival of Marigold, the curly blonde-haired excitable young demigod who seemed to have inherited my ability of Photokinesis, a rare and promising talent for my children to have. In other words, I was exhausted. So I teleported to the most calming place I could think of.

I collapsed down underneath the aged mountain laurel tree. It was located high up in a rocky, unforgiving mountain range, but overlooked the beautiful view of the other mountains, the lower halves shrouded in white mist. We often met here.

Beside me sat a young girl in a grey puffer coat and black leggings, her long dark hair tied back in a high ponytail. She was busy whittling on a long piece of wood, and so, did not look up at my arrival.

“Brother,” she greeted plainly.

“‘Sup?” I replied weakly, exhaustion filling my voice. I watched Artemis whittle for a while, my eyes half closed, the bow slowly taking its shape and the sound of the knife scraping evenly across the smooth surface calming me. “You making this for one of your hunters?”

“Yes. Being their leader has responsibilities, you know.”

I blew out my cheeks in exasperation. “At least you never have to go chasing down kids all over the world to drag to two camps in North America.” Artemis paused her whittling, and looked at me quizzically. “My son, Diego,” I clarified. “His mother is Spanish. He did not want to leave Madrid. But I finally convinced him after, what,” I tried to recall. “Three days? Ugh. Sometimes I just wish there were a few more camps around, ya know?”

The huntress had gone back to her work, her face contorted in concentration. “Mmm.”

“Are you even listening?”

“Uh huh.” I elbowed my beloved sister in the ribs, an effective attention-attracting tip I had learned over the course of my punishment; courtesy of Meg McCaffrey. Artemis glared daggers at me. “What?”

I beamed my most innocent smile. “You weren’t giving me enough attention, Artie.”

“Sod off.” She grunted. She will always deny it, but I saw a slight hint of a smirk seep through her annoyed facade. I grinned to myself as I decided to be as provocative as possible. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and snickered at her crabby expression and ancient greek curses as she tried to push me off.

There are many perks to being a sibling, dear reader, and annoying the younger sibling (or the one that appeared to be younger anyways) is most definitely in the top three. Along with the whole ‘If You Anger One Of Us You Deal With Both Of Us’ Ride-Or-Die attitude we can have (of course, this does not apply to every situation. See: the time Hermes pushed me into a very deep swamp, and all my dear sister did was laugh until she could no longer breathe).

Eventually, Artemis melted into the hug, leaning her young head against my chest. She took a deep breath and quietly said; “I am going to tell you something.”

I drew her a little closer, my embrace no longer meaning to provoke, but to comfort. I leant my cheek on her head.

“What’s up?”

“I am only telling if you do not get big-headed about it.”

“When have I ever done that?” I teased. “Honestly, I’m rather offended that you would even insinuate-” A small hand flew up past my face and grasped a lock of my beautiful, long hair - and yanked it downwards. “OW!” I rubbed my scalp and huffed down at my smug sister.

“You deserved that.”

“Uh huh,” I grumbled, unimpressed.

“What I was going to say was that I really did miss you, Ollie.”

“I missed you too. And I never got to say thanks. Y’know… for that time in Indianapolis. I couldn’t because the others were always around so… thanks.”

Artemis fiddled with a loose string on my sleeve. “Yeah, well. I had to pay you back for that time with Atlas and Luke…” she waved her hand, gesturing vaguely to the air. “So yeah. I guess I owed you one.”

Several years ago, my dear sister had taken the weight of the sky off a young maiden in an attempt to save her from being crushed. She succeeded, but at the cost of holding up the burdensome pillar of clouds for days without rest. By the time she made it back to Olympus, she was faint and required several days of rest (as ordered by her doctor; me). The topic was not often talked about. I wished everyone would have the same attitude over my embarrassing adventures. Still, I remembered mother and I being worried sick, and Zeus coming thundering through the door when he heard about her. We thought he was there to console or mourn, or maybe hatch plans on how to save her from the titan’s clutches. If you thought ‘What? That doesn’t sound like Zeus!’ then congratulations! You are learning. He told us that a demigod quest had been despatched, and if he were to find either of us interfering, he would rip out the ‘Number Ten’ lighting bolt. But not to worry, oh readers! He didn’t catch me.

Artemis shifted under my hold. We fell into a comfortable silence, and I found myself thinking about Meg again. Her tyrannical attitude, her odd fashion sense, her scent of baked apple. I could see every rhinestone in her cat-eye glasses. Every stitch in her well-worn dress. I got to thinking about how we would meet up again. A brilliant thought crossed my mind.

…

“Are we sure this is a good idea?”

“Relax, you big baby. It’ll be fine.”

*CRASH*

Meg blew a raspberry at the window she’d just obliterated.

“Well done,” I congratulated dryly. Meg kicked me in the shin, then readied another nerf bullet.

“I’m gonna miss if you keep distracting me!”

“Oh, was my mere presence distracting? I didn’t say anything!”

“Shut up,” she grumbled, sticking her tongue out in concentration as she aimed for the makeshift target we’d made and blu-tacked on the wooden wall. “I’ve got the gun and you’re being annoying.” I kept my mouth shut. The bullet was let loose with a twang. It went right through the hole where the window had once been. There were shouts from outside varying from “Get down, get down!” “Do not worry! I predict it to be no- six letters. Starts with ’T’” “Trench?” “Top-hat?” “That’s two words, Aloe.” “My bad.”

Of course, we were back at Aeithales. Palm Springs had welcomed us back with open arms. And I had my cover story set. I was here to personally check up on my Sibyl, as to not neglect my duties over prophecy, which was one of the reasons I’d been sent to Earth in the first place. I’d even gone to the extra trouble of making sure my dad was okay with it the day before. (“Because, you know, there may be some of my friends down there, cacti spirits and such, and I know you told me not to communicate with-” “APOLLO! IT’S TWO IN THE MORNING! GET OUT OF MY BEDROOM!”) So I figured I would be fine.

It was currently quite late, maybe eleven o’clock, and I had hung around all day. Just as Meg finally hit the target, I said;

“Perhaps I should get going. Do you want to spend the night here or go back to camp?” Meg sniffed.

“You don’t seem too bothered.”

“By what?” I asked. “Did I do something? Forgotten something? Today isn’t your birthday, is it?”

“No,” she stated bluntly, going back to aiming at the target.

“Care to elaborate?” I enquired cautiously. I did not want that nerf gun aimed the wrong way.

“You offered me immortality. I turned it down. You don’t seem upset.”

“My dear Meg. I simply respect your wishes, like I said I would.” I laced my hands together, trying to convey my feelings in an accurate way without bursting into a song that has all the feeling pre-written. “Your reasoning was sound, and while I do not fully understand your final decision, I trust your judgement. Besides, Percy Jackson turned it down too. So maybe it is not as valuable as I first thought.”

To my delight, Meg smiled. Albeit a small one. “Thanks. Do you think we’ll ever get to meet up? Without all the secrets and planning and stuff?”

I sighed. I really hoped so. “I do not know. One day, perhaps, my father will change his mind. I do not know when, or how. But I have hope that he will. As long as we keep working on him, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Right!” I clapped my hands together like I had seen dads do in movies to symbolise the end of a touchy conversation. “Now off to bed or I’ll turn you into a traffic light.”

I closed the door as quietly as I could, careful not to waken the sleeping demigod. Her snores were muffled as I strolled through night, evaporating and reappearing in my palace. I wandered the golden hallways for a while, taking in every piece of decoration and furniture in a different light. The palace wasn’t cold and useless as I had first thought. It was dazzling and elegant and me. I had been under the impression that because I wanted to heighten my morals and personally intervene more often, it would require changing everything. But it didn’t. So what if I liked shiny stuff? I can have good taste and still be an awesome god! It simply wasn’t the problem. It was only what I had lacked that had bothered me. And, looking down to Palm Springs one last time, I knew I had found it.

This was kind of a one off! The next chapter will be back with mortal Apollo during the trials. i just wanted to try something different.

#writing #fanfic #fanfiction #oneshot #toa oneshot #lester papadopoulos #apollo #meg mccaffrey #trials of apollo #toa #zeus #hermes #Austin lake #demeter #leto #artemis #olympus #olympians

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disneydreamlights · 5 years

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Pick five random questions (and also do the post apoc question as a sixth ;3) for Ticole, NiNick, Skyuuya, Matt/Luca, and whatever tf your otp for dark materials is?? i haven't been keeping up with your trash so idk what to ask for that one but also indulge yourself in your current trash plz

Yu I’ve been sitting here just like “I’m so sorry you asked” about that HDM pairing for the past ten minutes.

Partially because of the self indulgence and mostly just because they’re a train wreck.

I’m just gonna go in order for once because like...does anybody following me even care about this series? Or is this going to be me being self indulgent like I normally am with my oc ships. XD

Ticole:

2. Who is the most insecure and what makes them feel better?

Absolutely Tip. He lacks self confidence to such a strong degree. One the flip side, Nicole is great at being there to comfort him, either by reminding him that everything’s okay and that he’s loved or by providing whatever it is he needs and wrapping him in a blanket burrito.

9. What is the most embarrassing thing they have done in front of each other?

I refuse to take criticism that for Tip this isn’t the time that they were in Dragonspyre after reuniting and Tip started meowing at Nicole because he was very tired and she was just like “That’s cool you’re alive” because she was so relieved to have an alive Tip.

For Nicole, it probably would have something to do with her falling asleep in the middle of doing something. I have a lot of thoughts on the idea of her spending a lot of super late nights reading once he falls asleep and she just ends up falling asleep in the middle of it because she’s not paying attention to the time. It’s hard in general for Nicole to get embarrassed in front of Tip because he’s just so naive about everything.

15. When they watch a film what do they choose and why? Who gets the final vote?

Mostly animated things. I see them watching a lot more wholesome movies and given Nicole’s origins, she’s very obviously a Disney fan. She also gets the final vote since what they’re watching isn’t important to Tip.

16. When the zombie apocalypse comes, how do they cope together?

Mmm this is an interesting question. On one hand, they’re badass and together nearly unstoppable even in the pre-revival stuff (which is what I’m going to focus on in general because that’s a more fun Ticole anyways) so the chance of anything taking one of them down once they make it to shelter? Unlikely. They probably serve as pillars of emotional stability and comfort for each other as they keep themselves safe from zombies.

But this comes with a stipulation. They’re untouchable so long as everything they love is safe.

It’d be unlikely for anything to happen to Ian or Charles but if it did, it’s pretty likely that Tip at least would fall apart. So this could end up bad.

21. Where do they get nervous about going with one another?

Not counting worlds where they almost died??? I don’t think they would. Like literally the only place I could think of would be the bedroom because sex between the two of them? Super daunting there’s a reason I skipped the sex question every time RNG pulled it up.

27. Why do their friends get annoyed with them?

Oh dear god 95% of the annoyance with them I guarantee is directed at Nicole. Nicole is overprotective as shit over Tip and it gets to be ridiculous. The first couple of times she’s angry over somebody hurting Tip it’s scary but afterwards. “Nicole. Nicole plz. I know you’re upset but Nicole listen please shut up Tip’s fine. Nicole.”

I’m honestly surprised Ian hasn’t done anything yet tbh about this.

NiNick:

1. Who makes the first move and how?

I’m like...95% certain the person to take the leap was Nina? I don’t remember it’s been ages since I read the scene.

7. What do they get up to on a night out?

They take nights out? *shot*

No in all seriousness, these two when they do go out for the night probably have super romantic times. Nick’s supposed to be a romantic, so I could see him setting up candlelit dinners, figuring out the best showtime to watch the movie Nina’s really wanted to see, really doing the most to make their night out all the more special.

8. What do they like in bed?

Oh my god.

Nina’s not vanilla so her kinks go as far as Nick’s will that is all I will say on the subject.

16. When the zombie apocalypse comes, how do they cope together?

They try to keep moving on. I feel like they both alternate who’s functional on different days. Some days it’s both, and when it is they’re valuable resources to wherever they are. When one isn’t, I’d imagine the other just holds them while they try to cope with the fear and loss. There probably is some sex involved in all of this, because they can use it to help them forget that the world is ending and who knows when their next time could be their last.

Thankfully at least, they’re also social creatures. I’d imagine the two of them would stay in groups for as long as possible.

20. Where do they go on holiday?

Nina? Absolutely big amusement park nerd. I don’t think it matters where Nick wants to go she absolutely plans all her vacations around the fact that they might be able to stop by some kind of amusement park.

26. Why do they need to have a serious chat?

Somebody please stage an intervention for their sex habits. Please.

Skyuuya

4. Who can’t keep their hands to themselves?

Emphasis first of all in that these touches are always not sexual, but I can see Yuuya just always reaching for her as like small little gestures. Grabbing her hand if he notices she’s starting to panic. Giving her a hug when she seems just a little down. Just all sorts of reassuring small touches that absolutely mean a lot.

7. What do they get up to on a night out?

When they find the time to have a night out uninterrupted, I’d imagine it’s whatever dates Yuuya manages to come up with near where they’re based. This could be anything from beach trips to theme parks to nice dinners. It’s not really a specific thing they plan on a night out so much as just enjoying each other’s company for them.

But that being said I also see them sometimes just enjoying the peaceful nights by relaxing together for once and trading stories and talking. Like of course Yuuya wants to go all out on these dates but it’s despair world. He literally can’t because you always gotta be on guard so they make the most of it however possible.

14. When one has a cold, what does the other do?

Yuuya would be the most doting fuck if Sky got sick. She keeps telling him to stop. He’s gonna get sick. He really needs to stop. Except he absolutely doesn’t and brings her tissues and soup and wraps her in ten thousand blankets and “YUUYA IT’S A COLD I’M NOT DYING I DON’T NEED THIS MANY BLANKETS” except he’s not doing it because he thinks she’s going to die, he’s doing it because she’s Sky and absolutely deserves the best care she could ever get.

Then once he gets sick afterwards she throws a box of tissues at his head. granted she’s also making sure Yuuya has everything he needs for a full recovery from the cold but that’s less relevant.

16. When the zombie apocalypse comes, how do they cope together?

They start preparing to kill zombies. They’re the couple who just shows up on a motor cycle with their back towards each other and start shooting. They’re the zombie apocalypse dream team. They’re certified badasses. They’ll be fine.

22. Where does their first kiss happen?

First kiss after the prison (and not the peck Sky did to fluster Yuuya after getting together) is probably a little bit after the game??? Like they’re both together and spending time anchoring each other but like so much stuff went down and it’s just a lot to unload? And it’s not so much the where that matters but the when. Because I really would like to imagine like they’ve spent so much time worried and searching for their little siblings who mean the absolute world to them they have kinda put their relationship on the backburner in terms of being overly affectionate. And then they just finally find Sera and Sakuya and Hiyoko and they’re sitting there talking later that night and overwhelmed by emotions over the whole thing and idk who starts it but it’s like a “I’m really so glad we finally succeeded we found them” kiss.

Pre-PoD though? That’s a lot less happy. So I know we discussed that like...some really bad shit goes down and they start off not really getting along and gradually growing to care about each other because of an event that really forces them to understand the other? Well all I can imagine is whatever the terrible thing that happens is that really makes them get along? It happens. And of course even though they’re supposed to not like each other, but the other one of them is still listening to the other and supporting them because that hatred has been gone for a really long time and just like the one who’s hurt realizing that the other one has been there the whole time and they just realize “fuck I really like them” and somewhere in all this the kiss happens. So I guess in their room in the future foundation would be the answer to this.

26. Why do they need to have a serious chat?

Why don’t they? *shot*

Well, for one, there’s definitely some things they need to work out. Yuuya is still a spy. Sky still has her duties as a Keyblade Wielder. Both have ties to literally different worlds and different duties and they need to figure out how to make that work, and how to work on being in a relationship despite the possibility of not seeing each other for months.

There’s also one very specific scenario we discussed, the one that cemented Leone’s hate for his dad because he thought that Yuuya ditched them or died? They definitely have serious talks over that. I mean, Yuuya’s probably around his thirties by that point. He’s not young anymore and death is a very real threat for him, just like it is for Sky. They both probably have to address that. Which speaking of Leone, they also probably have a lot to talk about given he’s their son and has awful darkness issues.

Luca/Matt

3. Who is the most romantic?

I could write an essay on this but we both know it’s gonna be Luca.

15. When they watch a film what do they choose and why? Who gets the final vote?

The movies vary, but given Luca’s taste? It’s either absolutely shit or a horror movie, there’s no real way around it. And Luca tries to give Matt the final vote because he knows he struggles with keeping attention so he wants to give Matt like...the best chance of being able to keep himself focused and comfortable during the movie, but he ends up with the final vote anyways.

16. When the zombie apocalypse comes, how do they cope together?

So long as Matt and Lila are fine? Luca’s doing awesome the entire time. He serves primarily as the moral support, and encourages his best friend and boyfriend to survive.

Now why did I mention Lila? Because if something happened to either of them, that’s it. Luca’s shutting down completely. This boy is so reliant on them that he literally would be just done for in a zombie apocalypse.

18. When they fight, how do they make up?

Whichever one is at fault will like apologize. If Luca’s at fault, he’ll do it after he’s calmed down but if Matt’s the one at fault he’s probably immediately apologizing. Then once they’re both chill I see them talking about it and the make up is probably in the unsaid “we’re working on our issues together.”

That being said this is Luca so true confrontations are probably pretty rare.

22. Where does their first kiss happen?

Luca’s apartment, after Luca nearly fucks up Matt still kisses him anyways. Luca questions if his boyfriend has taste or sanity immediately afterwards.

30. Why does it work (or not work) between them?

This is a twofold question.

It does not work between them the first time because Matt is a cultist who literally betrays Luca’s trust because he’s in fact working against him. This in turn is the last crack on Luca’s faliling mental health and he shatters and they very obviously have a lot to work on.

But once they get back together, because they do have the ability to work through it all? They work because they know better. Luca is all in and he loves Matt, and he brings out the best in Matt I’d like to think. They put forth the effort to be better and make it work because they both love each other, and so it works.

HDM Ship (Ma/sriel)

4. Who can’t keep their hands to themselves?

Asriel. I could elaborate but the scene at the end of S1 really does speak for itself on this one. Of course Marisa doesn’t do the greatest job of this either or else the series wouldn’t exist.

5. Who says ‘I love you’ first?

I really had to think on this one but Marisa. She’s the younger of the two and despite her excellent facade in the series I do think her emotions would be a bit more free than Asriel’s, who’s shown to be emotionally in control for like the entire series. In spite of this it’s still an incredibly rare thing. We’re talking every once in a while, not frequent.

14. When one has a cold, what does the other do?

First of all they tease the other mercilessly. Neither Asriel nor Marisa are particularly doting (not until near the end of their life anyways) so they’re not the type to drop everything to take care of the other, especially since their relationship is secret in the first place. That being said they do make sure to check to make sure the other is alright when sick. Marisa probably brings some medicine and Asriel who funny enough I see as slightly more doting in this instance does his best to bring her things after she’s recovered (since she ya know, has to deal with the whole actually having a husband thing this is an affair why is this the ship hell I sunk into.)

16. When the zombie apocalypse comes, how do they cope together?

God they’re probably studying the zombies to figure out how they came about because they’re like scientists. I hate this. XD

18. When they fight, how do they make up?

They don’t. I ship this but it’s highly dysfunctional. Marisa and Asriel are both stubborn and pigheaded and a part of me would honestly believe for them that fighting is a part of foreplay. Occasionally one might apologize for a fight but it’s not like either of them will really budge on either of their positions (well okay that’s a lie. At the end of TAS Marisa has decided god has to go too but that took three books to get there, and it’s still not so much because she hates religion so much as if he doesn’t die her daughter will and she would do anything for Lyra.)

But on the flipside, they also forgive each other? Like it’s like...they’ll fight, neither will apologize, but both sides will accept it. Because even when their relationship is absolutely at their worst and they hate each other for twelve years, they still care. Asriel is one of the only two things to get an emotional reaction out of Marisa. Marisa is one of the only two things to get an emotional reaction out of Asriel.

It’s really hard to explain, it’s less like they’d ever make up and more like they would just move on from the argument. They only have so much time to waste on it.

21. Where do they get nervous about going with one another?

Um literally everywhere. These two are literally having an affair behind Marisa’s husbands back they aren’t going to go broadcasting it. That being said it’s mostly travels around London that get bad. The farther away they get from Marisa’s home the more likely they are to throw caution to the wind. And of course when they’re doing research they also tend to be a lot less nervous because there’s nothing wrong about it that could cause them trouble (on the surface).

#Heather RPs #lup-laguz #Heather Answers

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wolfie-dragon-rider · 5 years

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Bursts of Light, Day 24: Making up Afterward

A/N: I’m (finally) back with another one-shot in my Blindcup series. Only 6 left! I promise I will finish them all! This one takes place immediately after the previous chapter.

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"Knock knock! Astrid, are you there? Hiccup?" Kirsten called out, frowning when no one came to open the door to her daughter's house. Maybe they were enjoying each other, making full use of the honeymoon they were only halfway through? It'd make sense. Kirsten remembered her own honeymoon fondly, even if they had really been too young for married life.

Still, she didn't trust the silence in the house. The window was open, so if the newlyweds were… occupied, surely she'd hear something. She walked over, looking into the living room and preparing to glance away if they happened to be busy on the kitchen table.

Huh. No sign of them. Some dishes were left on the table, with traces of breakfast, probably from this morning. So it wasn't like they were sleeping late. Wouldn't be like Astrid anyway, the girl was always up with the sun, and right now it was almost noon. Surely they hadn't broken the tradition and sneaked out? Hiccup did like to break traditions, but no, not possible. Toothless and Stormfly were still staying with her and Tolfdir.

Kirsten sighed, debating leaving the basket full of food on their doorstep or just coming back later, when a sound reached her, coming from behind the house.

She walked around the house, eyes widening when she saw the state of the treeline. All of the trunks had deep gashes, like a great monster had swept through and sharpened its claws on them. A few trees had been felled, but not cleanly like they had been chopped for firewood. No, their leafs and branches were left intact, sticking out among the bushes were they had fallen.

An axe flew into the forest, glistening in the bright sun. It struck a battered tree, sinking deep into the ancient wood. The bark groaned, and for a moment Kirsten feared it would fall as well.

A blonde girl stomped over, grabbing the axe handle and wrenching it out with a loud cry. She then marched back to a spot where the grass was stomped and yellowed, before throwing the axe again.

Kirsten waited until she was sure her daughter didn't have a deadly weapon in her hand before announcing her presence.

"Knock knock! Is this a bad time?" she asked, walking into the 'yard', the little cleared area near their back door between the hot spring and the forest. Astrid jumped, hand straying to her leg for a second, surely to grab a dagger. Oh, her daughter was so much like her father, always prepared for attacks.

"No, I… We aren't supposed to talk, I thought. Are you here to drop off the food?" Astrid said, clearly shaken by her sudden arrival.

"Well, I was, but it looks like something's going on here. Something that warrants me bending the rules a little. Why aren't you inside with your husband? Where is Hiccup, by the way?" Kirsten asked, putting her hand on her daughter's shoulder and gently squeezing.

"He's locked himself in his workshop, I think. I don't know. Things are weird between us," Astrid slowly said with a deep sigh. Kirsten frowned, putting the basket of food down and leading her daughter to one of the fallen trees. A part near the base had no branches, so it provided a place for them to sit.

"Oh dear, what's going on? I hope you don't think that marrying was too hasty or something. You'd been stuck in the same stage for years, you two needed to move up a bit!" Kirsten said, sitting down. Astrid hesitated for a second before sitting next to her.

"I don't know! It's like… I love him, okay? I love him so much and ever since we… Ever since the wedding night it feels like that love is so much more complete. But at the same time I am just… annoyed at everything he does! We have these stupid fights about stupid nothings and yet they're not nothings and it doesn't make sense. Before this honeymoon we rarely fought, at least not over random stuff like… who should do the dishes or where to put whetstones! But now we… I don't know, we're avoiding each other? Except we're also not, we do… you-know, a lot, and then we talk, but it's not about anything, just how much we love each other. It's so confusing!" Astrid said, almost in one breath. Kirsten was sure she had been holding these things in for two weeks now, and she remembered why she hated that stupid rule about honeymoon isolation.

"Come here," she simply said, opening her arms wide. Astrid shook her head for a second, but then she all but jumped into her arms. Soft sniffs followed.

"There, there. It's okay to feel this way. I think I know what's going on, but before I explain let's just let everything out, okay? You've been cooped up for too long!" she whispered, patting Astrid's back gently as she let out all the frustrations.

"Is this what the old men mean when they complain about married life? I thought we'd just… I didn't think we'd fight so much! I'm so miserable and yet I don't want to leave him either, he makes me happy!" Astrid said, clearly trying not to cry.

"Oh, love, it's gonna be okay. It's normal. Your father and I went through this as well when we got married. You know we got married… hastily, and I was already pregnant, but still," Kirsten said, slowly pulling Astrid out of the embrace so they could look at each other.

"You see, moving in together is a really really big step. You're gonna see parts of each other that you hadn't seen before, notice habits that annoy you, have to compromise on things you did separately."

"You know how in stories, characters have good and bad qualities, perks and flaws? In reality, a quality can seem both good and bad depending on the situation. Your boyfriend might seem really spontaneous and generous, always surprising you with gifts, but then when you're married and have shared finances, that suddenly becomes an inability to handle money. Maybe you always liked how Hiccup is rebellious and doesn't limit himself with tradition, but over time that can also be a lack of structure or makes him unreliable. You like how he works hard on new inventions all day, until he starts leaving his sketches and tools all over your house that you just cleaned," Kirsten explained, and Astrid slowly nodded.

"I… I guess that makes sense. We keep fighting over things we didn't have to deal with before. Who cleans the house, where to put our shared things, when to go to sleep. And in those things we… clash. But how do I fix that? I don't want to fight like this all the time!" she said, looking away and fiddling with her skirt.

"You talk about it calmly. Tolfdir and I have a rule that we never go to bed angry with each other. We always talk things out. It doesn't have to be right when you have a fight, sometimes you just need a break to cool down and think things over, but you do have to talk before it starts to fester. And then together you figure out what caused the fight, what a solution is to whatever the fight was about, and how you stop this from causing more fights in the future. It's… not always easy, but married life isn't easy. It's hard work, especially when you're stubborn like you and Hiccup are!" Kirsten chuckled. Astrid was silent for a while, but eventually nodded.

"I… I'll try that. But what if Hiccup doesn't want to cooperate?" she asked, looking up at the house with a nervous expression.

"Oh girl, I think Hiccup wants nothing more than to make things right, but he just doesn't know how. Neither of you knew how to make the first step. That boy doesn't hold grudges, you know that. And he loves you to bits, he won't stay angry at you. I think he's just a bit scared and claustrophobic right now. He probably misses Toothless, gods know that dragon misses him, and he misses flying and smithing and all his other routine. When you're handicapped like Hiccup that routine is very important, you know. So he's a little lost now, and he probably doesn't know how to ask you for help since you are just as lost and he doesn't want to burden you."

Astrid chuckled. "How do you always know what is going on in people's heads?"

"A lot of practice at the Great Hall, dear. That's all there is to it. Practice. So now, go back in there and practice making up with your husband! Freya, your husband! I can't believe I finally get to say that. Now I need a new routine as well, can't just tell you to get married anymore! Maybe I should start asking for grandkids, but I feel like you don't need my pushing for that!" she laughed, before standing up. Astrid blushed brightly.

"Thanks, Mother," she simply said, standing up as well.

"No problem. Remember that you can always ask me for help, no matter how old you get. I'm still your mom," Kirsten said, before giving Astrid the basket of food.

"Now go in there, eat this food, and figure things out with Hiccup. And then when this is all over you'll look back on this and laugh at how stupid you were," she said, walking back to the village. Astrid didn't follow, instead grabbing her axe and going back inside the house. Kirsten chuckled to herself, knowing those kids would be just fine.

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Hiccup sat in his workshop, digging in one of the piles of designs for an old sketch for an irrigation system. For a second he considered asking Astrid for help, but then he remembered why he had shut himself in here in the first place.

Actually, he didn't really know why. It felt like none of it made sense. Just two weeks ago he had been happier than he had ever been. He was married to the most wonderful woman in the world.

And now it had all turned to crap. It was like all they could do was fight over stupid things. Just this morning they had fought over whether bread should be buttered on both sides. Astrid had expressed surprise that he smeared both sides with big sweeps. He had made a joke in reply, thinking she was kidding, but then it somehow devolved into an argument about wasting valuable food and how he didn't know how expensive butter is.

Hiccup wasn't proud of the way he handled it: by running away into his workshop and slamming the door. A few seconds later the back door slammed as well, Astrid probably going outside for axe throwing.

Maybe this wouldn't all be for nothing if he could just work. This invention would help all the farmers on Berk, it was more important than this one stupid argument. He just had to find the damn sketch among all the other plates of copper by feeling them one by one.

His fingers ran over drawings of mills and saddles, houses and ships, but then he suddenly found a sketch of a clawhammer. The moment he realized what it was he froze. The copper fell to the floor with a loud bang.

Hiccup's hands shook as he picked it back up. This was the first thing he and Astrid designed together. Just two weeks after he woke up without his leg. They developed their routine as they worked on this simple tool. His throat filled up, and he suddenly wished they could go back to that simpler time.

Where had it all gone wrong? Back then they didn't fight like this! They worked together as easy as breathing.

His free hand balled into a fist as he tried to stay strong. Why did he have to be so useless?! Normally when something was broken Astrid and him would work together to fix it, but this… This was something broken between them.

He wished he could ask somebody. Gobber, his dad, Toothless, Cami. But no, he was stuck inside this damn house for another two weeks, alone with his thoughts and the love of his life he could only make love or fight with.

Gods, his entire mind was messed up from it all. Their intimacy had only made things more complicated, making them closer than ever even as they had arguments over mundane things.

A soft sob escaped his throat despite his best efforts. More followed. Just as he tried to get it back under control there was a knock on the door. It was a gentle knock, not like Astrid's usual angry knocks.

"Hiccup? Can we talk?" Astrid's voice called through the door, soft and vulnerable. In his surprise he sniffed loudly, and he instantly knew Astrid could tell he was crying.

"Hic… I'm not angry. Not anymore, and I just… I hate this situation. I hate that we're fighting so much and I want to make it right. And I suspect you hate it just as much. So can I come in? Or do you want to come out?"

Another sob wrenched itself from his throat despite his best efforts. Oh gods, what a mess. What would Astrid think of him? But still… he trusted her. Despite the tension of the past few weeks he knew she would never laugh at him. So he stumbled to the door on unsteady legs, copper plate still in his hand. His fingers trembled as he unlocked the latch.

The door slowly swung open, the creaking the only sound apart from the soft sniffs he tried to suppress.

Hiccup didn't know what to say or do, waiting for Astrid to enter the dark room and give him clarity.

"We've both been complete idiots."

Out of all the things he imagined her saying, that was not something he had expected. His very eloquent response was "Uh-huh."

"Look, I've did a lot of thinking and… and I realized that neither of us were prepared for this change. Living together, having to figure out how to divide chores and share a house and be together literally all the time. But that doesn't mean we can't figure this out now. We're adults, we're married, we can talk about this, right? So… can we? Calmly, without getting angry?" she softly asked, voice so fragile it broke Hiccup's heart too.

"I… I want nothing more. But I don't know how," he managed to say, sitting down in his chair.

"Well, how a conversation works is that I say something, and then you say something, and then I say something again-" she deadpanned.

"Haha, very funny," he said, genuinely chuckling. Gods, it felt good to laugh with her again.

"Seriously though. Can we try, at least? How about this morning? Can we please just talk about what went wrong during that stupid fight?" Astrid slowly said, hopping on the workbench next to him.

"Okay. Alright. I'll try. I guess for me it just went so fast. At first I thought you were just joking, teasing. But then two sentences later we were shouting at each other and slamming doors and I don't understand how that happened so fast," he explained, turning away a bit.

"Thing is, I wasn't joking. And when you acted like I was it felt like you weren't taking me seriously. You know money is not an easy topic for me. I shouldn't have shouted, though. And I'm sorry I did. I should have just explained that," Astrid said, putting her hand on his shoulder.

"I'm… I suppose that makes sense. I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have run away. I just… I feel like I'm suffocating lately. And that's not you, I love you so much and I want to be with you, but I miss blacksmithing and Toothless and going to the cove and flying and so much more. And it feels like all I can do this month is design things in this workshop without my blacksmithing tools, and talk to you about dumb stuff. And that leads to arguments about dumb stuff. I'm sorry, I guess I'm just frustrated and have taken that out on you. You didn't deserve that," he slowly said, awkwardly moving his hand to grab hers, squeezing softly.

"No, I didn't, and you didn't deserve my anger either. Maybe I was also scared, scared that we got married too quickly, that we aren't ready for this yet. But as long as we can just talk about it later, before it starts to fester, we should be alright."

Hiccup nodded, squeezing her hand again. They sat in comfortable silence for a while. Oddly, it was like this was the most intimate thing they had done so far, despite all the lovemaking that had happened before.

"Was that the entire conversation? Is everything out now?" Astrid suddenly asked.

"You know, I think it was," he said, awed at how much lighter he felt. There were a few seconds of silence, and then he had to scream his thoughts: "That was so easy!"

"We are so stupid!" Astrid shouted, before doubling over with laughter. Hiccup couldn't help but laugh as well, before gently pulling her off the workbench and onto his lap so he could hug her.

"Oh, you're amazing. Let's never be this ridiculous again. Next time we talk calmly about things, okay?" he asked, sensing her nod.

"Yes, let's try that. But you know, Hiccup, there's something good that comes from dumb fights…" Astrid said, her tone teasing. He frowned, unsure of what she meant.

"We get to have make-up sex," she chuckled, grinding on his lap, and he moaned softly. Oh gods. Hiccup was sure that next time they fought things wouldn't spiral out of control anymore. He just had to survive Astrid's endless stamina.

#bursts of light #blind spots #httyd #fanfic #hiccstrid

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twinfanfics · 5 years

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The tale of the three head beast. The marching fishes (21/22)

WE ARE BACK!!

Fandom: Digimon GoT au.

Charaters: All the choosen children from Adventure, 02, Tamer and sometimes Frontier.

Ships: Taiyama, Joumi, Daiken, Takary, TakatoxYuri, RikaxRyo …

Second part of the tale of the three head beast series, you can read the first part The chosen children Here and here, or look for the tag 3t3hb on this blog.

Resume: Three years had pased since Taichi won the hand of princess Sora and both get crowned King and Queen of the living land, now they must faced the duty of the monarchs, but the King is must worried about cover his affair with the royal guard. The war started on the Honest Island, does the King Joe would manage it?. Mean while at the other side of the sea Takato and Ruki stronger their forces.

And you can read all past chapters of the marching fishes in the links below or in AO3

ACT 1. ESCENE 1: THE RAIN

ACT 1. ESCENE 2: THE WILL

ACT 1. ESCENE 3: THE TRIP

ACT 1. ESCENE 4:THE SON

ACT 2. SCENE 1: THE ARRIVAL

ACT 2. SCENE 2: BROTHERHOOD

ACT 2. SCENE 3: MOTHER | **warning suicide attempt**

ACT 2. SCENE 4: THE BATTLE OF THE IKKAKU ISLAND

ACT 3. SCENE 1: THE INTERROGATION

ACT 3. ESCENE 2: DELIVERY

ACT 3. ESCENE 3: RED DRESS

ACT 4. ESCENE 1:TRIAL

ACT 4. ESCENE 2: THE SAINT QUEEN

ACT 4. ESCENE 3:THE SPY

ACT 4. ESCENE 4: INTRUDERS

ACT 4: SCENE 5: THE BROKEN SWORD

ACT 5: SCENE 1: THE WIDOW

ACT 5: SCENE 2: WELCOME HOME

ACT 5 : SCENE 3: FAITH

ACT 5: SCENE 4: LIONHEART

ACT 5: SCENE 5: THE PRICE TO PARADISE

One day past, and then another, and another, and another.

All he want was to back to normality, back to the long days haunting on the forest and the short nights on the arms of his lover.

But all he get from Yamato was silence, coldness, indifference, sometimes even fear.

At the begining Taichi thought that he only needed time, a few nights to cry over his lost friend, that at some point the both would talk about it, but that time never came.

And everyday that past the air felt thicker between them, he want to scream and run and fight, but they put him against an enemy he would never beat, a bigger obstacule than Yamato´s bitterners

His sister talked and whispered and sang, always the same nonsense, Hikari continues all day every day, she join him for breakfast and dinner, she walked him around the halls of the castle and in the meetings with the council; and when she was not there, Koushiro was, and when they disappear and he finally could breath it was night, and he was left alone on his room with his wife.

And Yamato guarded the room

And Sora looked at him demanding something that he refuse to give

And everything he could think about was Yamato outside the room

And the woman inside the room grew impatient, but also proud; she wasn´t going to beg and he wasn´t going to bend.

In the morning Hikari was waiting for him outside the room, and Yamato looked at the floor and Taichi died for explain him that nothing happened, that he never touch her as he had touch him, but his little sister smile at him, and the routine begins again.

Days and nights, thoughts that what could be tormented him, he should stay on the island for the execution of Iory and Ken; he should never come back for the war; sometimes he wonder if it was bad luck that Kouji stroke that arrow...

“What a wonderful moon” Hikari exclaim when the same cheerful voice, maybe a little bit cheerful that the usual “you should rest, go to bed earlier tonight”

As if he want that, between the eyes of the lights and the lies of the crown it was the Kingdom, if something allowed him not to drown was his duty, his work, the only vow that he hadn't broken, so he devoted himself, he worked late, hardly and constand.

“ If you need rest go to your room” he smiled stacking a pile of papers that could totally wait until next morning “ This is important Hikari” He lied, in the corner of his eye it was Yamato, of course, silence Yamato guarding the door in the room when only he and his sister where, if only, if this time she would let them alone

“Is not as important brother, you know...” a little red appear on her sister cheeks “this moon is a powerful augury, this night could be the night”

“The night?”

“You know…” It was not the presence of his sister what bothered him, sometimes he felt that Hikari did not exist anymore, they had somehow replaced the sweet girl who was scared of the shadows, the annoying young woman who scolded him about his manners, who joked, who laughed, for one more of them, an endless recital of light proverbs, a tool for their scams “because it such a beautiful full moon” she mamble

“ the moon?” but behind her rosy cheeks Taichi somehow saw a glimpse of his little sister “ should I let my work because of the moon?”

“Brother!” Hikari was there “You may not know, but the moon is a light vessel, its dictade the fluctuations of the soul, enlight the spirit, especially those from women” she avoided his eyes “and I don't ask you to quit your job, just to focus on one of greater importance”

Taichi late a minute to catch up on her words “What you want Kari?”

“Is not about what a i want brother! is more about what I know” she lowered her voice Was she trying to prevent Yamato from listening to them?

“I dont think you know as much as you think”

“I have been studying the texts, I have looked at the stars, I have prayed every day since your return, I have ..." she stuttered "I have monitored the fluctuations in the queen's body, believe me, toning must be the night” the knight at the door turn around

He stand up, livid in anger and shame “you have no right!”

“Brother!”

“Dont you dare!” he feels the rage burning his skin “Dont call me brother when you act like nothing more that a priest!”

“I only want the best for you!”

“The best for me? is this the best for me? did I look like the best I had been? HOW?! How you have time for stars and book and prayers when you are watching me all day?!”

“I´m not…”

“Yes you are! Do you think i don´t know? that I´m stupid?! You are here talking about trues and life and you lie and kill”

“I never…”

“You are killing me Hikari, don´t you see? all this pat that your light draw end with my death” he laughs, sitting again “ you are just like the rest of them, are you still my sister Hikari? are something of you still there?”

“What do you mean? of course im your sister”

“Then talk to me, ask me if I want any of this, act as if you care when I´m suffering!”

“Of course I care! but brother you must know, suffering is how we gains forgiveness, sacrifice will give us the eternal paradise, is the only way for The Light to enter in our souls “ the words of a priest, Hikari spoke with such a devotion, Taichi was sure she believes every single line “Only through suffering can we atone our sins”

“what do you know about my sins?”

she said nothing but her eyes move to the door

“Live me alone sister” His voice drop a shadow between them

“I cant…I have orders ”

“orders from who? You are nothing more than a lady of the court”

“I´m a sister of The Light!”

“No you are not! you are a tool! a pretty face that they train to recitate old passage! They haven't even let you give the votes!, did you know why? “ he stand up “because you are the princess of the mountains, you are the key to our parents titles and everything than you are doing to me sister, they are gonna force on you too! and I remind you I'm still the damn King of all the living land and I command you to leave me alone!”

She shook and tremble, her little body looked like it would broke

“Yes your majesty” a little bow, not a single tear “ I must inform you that the queen is waiting for you on your chamber” she walk out, not before calling Yamato to follow her, finally leaving him alone.

And felt alone indeed, not Hikari or Yamato turn back to looked at him when they walk away, he knew he had lost his sister, it was not sudden; slowly the claws of The Light had dragged her for years until they took control of her entire body, there was nothing he could do to get her back, but Yamato …

Taichi leaves his study and walked with the head up and stop in front of the door with no guards, sacrifice would bring him paradise.

Sora was sitting near to the window, holding a book she wasn't reading, it wasn´t even midnight when her husband appear.

“You are late” you stupid, stupid man

“I know” she didn't expect him to talk back, he never did, He took so long but finally walked until her and took her hand, one knee on the floor “I need to know, did you want a son? is really your wish or is a mandate of The Light?”

She move with confusion, only Taichi ever ask for what she want

“I want a heir, I don't want the legacy of my father to died with me” he expect sincerity “and I… I wish for a baby, I want to be a mother it has nothing to do with The Light”

“ fine, then I'm gonna need your word”

“My word?” she was used to be ignore by him, but this? Taichi suddenly care and for onces she was completely lost

“Yes, the promise that you won't kill me as soon as you have a heir”

“I would never do that!” she rush and dear heaven he touch her shoulder; he had no right, when was the last time anyone touch her? was that his fear? that was what was holding him back? a hope that she thought dead blooms

“Promise me that you won't let them kill him” a stupid woman for a stupid man “Promise me….”

“And what about the promises you made to me? what about your lies? how you dare to ask me for anything!”

“You need it to be my son” who was that men? why the sudden confidence? “promise me that you won't let them kill him” he repeat “promise me that Yamato would be alright” the audacy

She thought in refuse, but only the fools fight a battle already lost.

“You have my word” she didn't need his heart anyway, she only needs his body, his touch, his hands, his strong arms took her and carried to their bed “But you must never lie to me again”

That's smile, he closed his eyes and stroked her skin, what a horrible way to be a gentleman, if only she care, if only they had not already passed the point of no return.

She undress herself, he do the same.

If it was a defeat, she hope every failure in life feels that good

#the tale of the three head beast #the marching fishes #digimon fanfiction #digimon GoT au #taichi yagami #hikari yagami #Sora Takenouchi

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the-digimon-tamer · 5 years

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Chapter 25 - Nightmare Motorcycle is out now on FanFiction.Net and ArchiveOfOurOwn! Check them out with the links or find it after the break!

Title: The Tamer v2.0 - In HIs Name

Fandom: Digimon

Rating: T

Synopsis: In the next adventure of the Digimon Tamer, the lives of Juri, Rika, and Henry change forever when digimon begin crossing over into the human world. But it’s all just a story, right? Just a book series by an author no one has seen in a long time. Why are they here and can they save their world before something worse follows the digimon?

The Tamer v2.0: In His Name

Chapter 25: Nightmare Motorcycle

Henry ran up and down the sand where their friends has been a moment before, “Crap! Where’d they go? We have to find them!”

He was about to chase after the beam of light when Leomon grabbed a hold of his shoulder, “No dice! Do you have any idea what’ll happen if you just jump in that? There’s no guarantee that you’ll go where they did. You could end up anywhere! And what good will you do them then?”

“We can’t just leave them!” Henry argued back, amazed that the lion was barely breaking a sweat as he tried to get free. In fact, the lion lifted him up into the air casually, dangling in front of his face, “Don’t worry. They have Renamon and Andromon with them. I can’t think of anyone better to have at your side. Those two can take care of them. What’s important now is that we keep a level head.”

“Moumantai, Henry!” Terriermon patted his partner. Juri looked to Takato, who was still staring off into space silently and tapped on his shoulder to snap him out of it. He didn’t react. It took Guilmon nuzzling him with his snout to finally snap him out of it, “Huh? Oh, hi boy.”

“Are you out of your funk, now?” Terriermon asked gesturing at the beam of light as it moved along the desert sand, “Because we’ve already run into a serious problem and I’m pretty sure you didn’t even notice.”

“Sorry, what’s going on?” Takato looked between them in confusion, finally noticing half of their group were not present, “Where’d everyone go?”

Terriermon chuckled at being proven right while Leomon groaned in frustration. He really hadn’t noticed their friends getting sucked up into the pillar of light! Juri pointed him towards the ever growing distant beam of light and explained, “They got sucked up into this beam of light that went past us!”

Takato raised an eyebrow in surprise, tracing the beam of light skyward, “Beam of light? From what? It’s not connected to anything! It just…sort of goes up forever.”

He traced its path with its finger up the sky until he was pointing straight up, “Well, crap that is a problem. They could be anywhere. They could even be in a completely different world!”

“Yes, we know! How do we find them?” Henry demanded, “Because we’re not going to find them just sitting here doing nothing! Who knows what trouble they’ll get in by themselves? Especially Kazu and Kenta. And you know Rika’s probably going to try and pick a fight.”

“She hasn’t been that bad lately,” Guilmon offered in her defense.

“I think they’ll be fine. They have Andromon and Renamon too. Really, the only one I’m worried about is Kazu,” Takato answered sheepishly, “But if we’re going to find them, we can always go to the Hallowed Bastion. I can track them from there. Come on!”

He turned on his heels and started walking off in a random direction, stopping to check his digivice, and then continued on in a slightly different direction. Guilmon raced after his partner while the rest of them swapped nervous glances. There were so many questions now and Henry asked first, “What’s the Hallowed Bastion?”

“Home City of the Ancients,” Leomon answered quietly, lifting Juri up on to his shoulder, “We should keep up. We don’t want to fall too far behind.”

“How far is it?” Terriermon asked, climbing up onto Henry’s head to sit without asking. He was heavy on Henry’s head, until the digimon spread out his ears to offer some make shift shade. Takato pointed ahead, “That way! Maybe a few days? Actually, we’re going to stop by an old house if that’s okay. I want to get something first.”

“I see time has done nothing to modify your concern for others,” Leomon commented quietly, something Takato chose to ignore. Juri was less sure of that statement. As far as she could think, Takato had always been trying to help others. He’d even been trying to stop fighting between other digimon! She poked Leomon’s head and asked, “What does that mean, Leomon?”

The lion grimaced, “The last time I saw The Tamer, he was less concerned with the well being of others and more concerned with ensuring they fulfilled their destiny. Whatever that would be. Even if it meant forcing them to watch the people they cared for die.”

None of that sounded like the Takato she knew. Then again, she realized that this wasn’t even the Takato she knew. This Takato was just someone wearing his face and running around with his name. The real Takato was lost…possibly in this world. Thinking about all of this made her heart feel heavy.

And why did Leomon feel the need to bring up destiny? Did he know something she didn’t? She looked back at Leomon, “How do you know all this?”

“I don’t know all the details because I wasn’t there, but supposedly he allowed someone’s mother to die to ensure that certain events happened the way they were supposed to,” Leomon answered. He looked her way and offered a small smile, “It’s alarming but I’ve learned it’s better not to worry about it. It’ll make you paranoid. Make you do things that you normally wouldn’t. I think another one of the digidestined said it best: destiny will work itself out either way, so why worry about it?”

That hardly made her feel better. She felt a lump forming in her throat and tried to swallow it, but couldn’t it. Maybe it was just too hot and dry to do it? Yeah, that had to be it.

…

Impmon followed Makuramon and the hostage Calumon through the endless desert and complained, “Hey! How much farther is this place yous was talkin’ ‘bout?”

“Not much farther, dear Impmon,” the monkey answered playfully, poking the cage he was using to hold Calumon hostage, “Isn’t that right my dear little pet? Oh, what fun we’ll have when I return you to Lord Zhuqiaomon!”

“I don’t think I’ll like your idea of fun,” Calumon’s voice quivered in fear. Makuramon answered by shaking the cage as violently as he could, “Oh, come now Catalyst. I’m sure you’ll enjoy all the little games we’ll play when we finally meet our Lord!”

“I hope you ain’t expecting me to bow coz’ I don’ got no lords,” Impmon folded his arms, growing irate the longer he followed this monkey. It was the smart decision at the time - the monkey had him in a death grip and he’d be dead if he didn’t agree. But now he was wondering if death would’ve been the smarter choice. It would’ve saved him from having to listen to this monkey chatter on and on about crap he didn’t care about.

A small bright light appeared in the distance, one he hadn’t seen before. Impmon’s eyes narrowed and he looked at Makuramon with a raised eyebrow, “What’s that?”

“That is my destination. I do have a gift to present. But don’t worry, Caturamon will take care of you,” Makuramon cackled. Impmon didn’t like the sound of that laughter and turned to see a snarling dog just inches from his face. He leapt back, preparing two balls of fire in his hands, “How’d you do that?”

“Why is that the first thing everyone asks me?” the dog asked, noticing the cage in Makuramon’s hand, “Is that it?”

Makuramon held out the cage with a big old grin on his face, “Indeed it is! The catalyst given digimon form by the Sovereigns themselves! And do help this poor little fellow. His services were useful in the acquisition of our goal.”

“Alright,” the dog nodded, getting so close to Impmon that his breath made him gag, “Listen well, little one. I am Caturamon, servant of the Sovereigns and guardian of this area. Tell me what you seek and I will help you acquire it.”

Impmon rolled his eyes, skeptical of the wish granting and keeping the fireballs close, “Hey, I ain’t da wishin’ type.”

Caturamon grunted his disapproval, snarling at the imp before blowing out the flames in his hands. Impmon panicked and reignited another set of flames quickly only to have them blown out again. Caturamon then added, “I can do this all day idiot. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Anything you want, you can have at our lord’s grace. But this offer will only come once and won’t be given again. What do you want, child?”

Impmon continued staring skeptically before finally answering, “I want the same thing I’ve always wanted: to survive. If that means bein’ strong or smart, I don’t care. I want to not need anybody’ or anythin’!”

Caturamon stared at the imp in surprise, and that annoyed him, “WHAT?”

“Who hurt you?” was all he asked. Impmon was taken aback by that question because of how close it hit to home, “Who says anyone hurt me?”

“No ‘mon is an island,” Caturamon explained, “To want no one or anything...who hurt you?”

“NOBODY!” Impmon snapped angrily. Caturamon closed his eyes, taking a long and deep breath as if to indicate his frustration. Then he sighed, “Very well. I will grant your heart’s desire: but what that means is power. Power unlike any other. And only one can grant that power. The sovereign himself! Lord Zhuqiaomon.”

“I told you, I ain’t got no lords!” Impmon protested, suddenly finding Caturamon taller than he was a second ago. That couldn’t be right. He was eye level a moment ago. Unfortunately, it took Impmon just a second too long to realize he was sinking into the ground like he were stuck in quicksand. He tried to step out of it, but the struggle only made him sink faster, “HEY! WHAT GIVES!? What kinda trick is this? Get met outta here!”

“Do not resist. All will be well,” Caturamon said, failing to be any more reassuring than that stupid monkey. Impmon growled, trying to grab at Caturamon in vain to keep himself above the ever rising sand. But it was too late now. His arms were now submerged in the dirt, leaving only his flailing hands reaching desperately for something. As it made its way up to his face, he tilted his head up to keep it above the rising earth. With his last breath, he cursed the damned dog and the monkey. He cursed himself for being so careless. Darkness took him, followed by a vision of large bird wreathed in flame. Then a flash of fire swallowed him.

…

They walked for the rest of the day, stopping only at the end of the day to eat bread from Takato’s bag and sleep out in the open. As the night grew colder, they tried to get a fire going but had nothing but the bread wrappers to burn - something that only lasted a couple of seconds before the flames burned out. So they spent that night mostly going cold - something Guilmon vocally complained about despite being in a large desert.

Juri slept by Leomon’s side, since his fur and his large size made him nice and warm. Sleeping beside him reminded her of when she was younger and her dad had been more open with her. It reminded her of all the times he’d let her fall asleep on his lap while he was working or watching TV, before carrying her to bed and tucking her in for the night. It was probably her best night’s sleep in a long time. When she awoke the next morning, she found that the others had also moved in to be beside Leomon at some point in the night. Maybe he was just too warm to resist in this frigid cold desert. And she was well aware how insane that sounded when she thought it out loud.

They headed out again after a quick breakfast of some more bread and hurried on in the direction Takato led them. It was another day of endless trekking through arid heat under a baking sun until they saw what looked like several small mounds in the desert. From afar, it looked like a mass of hills. But the closer they got, the more it began to resemble igloos of mud with their doors sealed shut with scrap metal.

“What is this place?” Juri asked, looking around curiously at the many huts. The place was almost like a ghost town, except ghost towns had signs people used to live there. But there were clothes hanging off clothes lines and smoke coming from the chimneys. So someone had to be living here now, right? Takato took one look around, “A village by the looks of it. Let’s see if anyone’s home! HELLO! Anybody here? Were friendly! I promise! Don’t mind the lion! Or the dinosaur. They’re the nicest. The bunny dog thing is more dangerous than they are.”

“Hey!” Terriermon grumbled, sticking out his tongue at Takato and turning his head in disapproval. Takato ignored him and knocked on one of the doors. When no answer came from inside the abode, he banged harder, “Anybody? Somebody? Hello! I swear we’re friendly!”

“Takato!” Henry pulled him back, “What are you doing?”

“Knocking,” he answered quietly, “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“No, I mean why are you banging on the door? We don’t know who lives in there!” Henry corrected him anxiously, “For all we know, it’s some crazy dangerous digimon who’ll eat our face.”

Despite his concerns, Takato shrugged it off and patted his head, “Don’t be ridiculous Henry. Only Kuwagamon do that and they tend to live under the sand, not in huts this small.”

“Okay, so what if it’s something else? Something that wouldn’t mind eating us!?” Henry pointed out. He and Takato stared at each other for the longest time before he knocked on the door again, throwing all of Henry’s concerns out the window with it. Henry groaned in frustration, just as the metallic door slid open for a little brown bear made of dirt to peek out, “Hello?”

Takato put on his cheeriest face, “Hi! We’ve lost some friends and are looking for them. Then again, we’re also a little lost ourselves. Do you have any water or some food?”

“You’re not with that demon, are you? The crazy demon motorcycle,” the little brown bear asked. Takato looked back at the rest of them with a raised eyebrow, skeptically remarking, “Demon motorcycle? Don’t be ridiculous! We’re not with a demon motorcycle! I’ve seen a crazy puppet, statues comes to life, and even world ending monsters from outside reality and not once have I ever seen a demon motorcycle!”

“What kinda digimon is that?” Juri pointed at the brown bear, “I’ve never seen one before like this.”

“Chuchidarumon. They’re a subtype or Frigimon only made with mud instead of ice and snow,” Takato answered knowledgeably, “They’re a really docile digimon too. Normally friendly. This motorcycle must have you guys really spooked if you’re locking all your doors!”

“Get away from the door! If the motorcycle sees you, it’ll come back!” a voice rang out from inside the hut. The door slammed shut after that, followed by the unmistakable sound of the click of several locks. Terriermon frowned, “Well that was rude.”

“What do you suppose they mean by demon motorcycle?” Leomon asked. Henry shrugged and pointed out, “More importantly, why do they keep talking about the motorcycle and not the rider? I’d think the rider is more dangerous.”

“Does anyone else hear that?” Takato asked, holding up a finger for complete silence. Juri closed her and cupped a hand to her ears, hearing only the distant sound of the wind blowing past. She opened her eyes and answered, “I don’t hear anything.”

Terriermon’s ears perked up and he added, “I do! It’s like a...a rumble.”

“Something’s coming,” Guilmon added, lifting up his nose to sniff the air. Juri closed her eyes again and tried to listen carefully. Nothing. No wait, there was something. A soft hum or rumble. Like an engine. A motorcycle engine! And it was getting closer and louder. Turning her head towards the noise, she saw the unmistakable shape of an unridden motorcycle roaring their way with no one riding upon it. And the headlight of this motorcycle flashed a grim blood red as it raced towards them, like a singular eye pierced into their very being to judge them. She gasped and Leomon groaned, “You’ve gotta be kidding me! They were serious!? A demon motorcycle!?”

“Oh, that is new,” Takato said almost too gleefully, “A self driving motorcycle!”

“Uh...it’s coming right at us,” Henry pointed out.

“We should run,” Terriermon added, pulling on Henry so that he would turn and start moving. Everyone did just that, hurrying towards one of the huts and climbing on top of the mounds to avoid the rampaging vehicle. At first, it seemed they would be safe but that did nothing to slow the machine down or hinder it as it rammed at full speed into the side of the hut. It shook violently, Juri grasping on to her partner for dear life while he dug his sword into its side to anchor them. The others were hardly fairing any better, trying to keep from getting knocked off and hanging on only by digging their hands straight into the mud. The hut shook one more time and motorcycle emerged from the other side, throwing a Chuchidarumon forward onto the ground and running it over. The digimon let out a single pained cry before disappearing into data. During that brief moment the motorcycle passed under them, Juri swore she saw what looked like a small metallic rabbit riding on its seat - so small that it was hardly noticeable. In fact, it was smaller than Calumon of all things. And it didn’t look to have any arms or legs! How was it driving the motorcycle?

The motorcycle turned on its spot and revved its engine at them, producing a loud roar as it charged again. This time, it raised up its front wheel to transfer its momentum and raced up the side of the hut.

“JUMP!” Takato shouted, as they all leapt off the hut in time for the motorcycle to fly past them and land on the other side. Leomon kept Juri on his shoulder, “Hang tight, Juri. This motorcycle really is a demon!”

“No, there’s someone riding it!” Juri pointed out, “A little rabbit thing!”

“A rabbit?” Takato repeated, eyeing the motorcycle carefully. It had already regained its footing and was readying itself again, rushing their way. Takato ran in front of them and shouted, “HEY! LOOK AT ME! COME AND GET ME!”

“TAMER! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Leomon roared out, rushing forward to stop the boy. The motorcycle had already turned though and was rushing right at him. Takato continued onward though, flailing his arms above his head, “That’s right! Over here! Come and get me!”

“What is he doing!?” Juri gasped, closing her eyes to avoid seeing what she thought she was going to see. There was a loud thump and soft crash. Her heart stopped. The only person who had any idea how to get them back had just thrown himself in front of a motorcycle! They were doomed! Royally doomed. She peeked her eyes open a little to see Takato on the sand, cradling something in his arms as he looked over his shoulder at the motorcycle continuing into the distance. Now with Guilmon riding upon it. As he stood up, Juri could make out the metallic rabbit in Takato’s arms and it weakly apologized, “I’m sorry! I saw everything. As soon as I was on the seat, I lost all control. It was like the motorcycle was making me do those things!”

“It’s alright, MetalKoromon,” Takato assured the little bunny and stroking its head. He handed the digimon over to Leomon and announced, “Do you mind holding this? I need to go save Guilmon!”

“HERE I COME TAKATOMON!” Guilmon roared at the top of his lungs, turning the motorcycle to face him. There was something off now about the red dinosaur, something different about him. Almost like he was possessed. MetalKoromon urged Takato, “Don’t do it! If that motorcycle gets you, it’s all over! All it wants is to find stronger riders! As soon as it does, it kicks off whoever is on it and kills everything else. Please! Don’t do it!”

“I’m not letting anything happen to Guilmon,” Takato said, adjusting his goggles over his head to cover his eyes. He looked back at Leomon and declared, “Be ready to knock me off as soon as you can!”

“What are you going to do?” Henry asked. Takato shrugged, “Get on the motorcycle, see what happens, maybe take it for a ride afterwards.”

He ran forward again and Henry groaned, “What’s with the throwing himself in danger act? Is he crazy or stupid?”

“We all know it’s both,” Terriermon remarked.

The motorcycle revved again, and Guilmon shouted, “YOU’RE ALL MINE NOW!”

“Then come get me!” Takato shouted back, standing in front of the motorcycle with his arms wide open. The motorcycle roared its engine and charged in again, going faster than it had before. Still, Takato didn’t move. Just as she was sure he’d get run over this time, the motorcycle’s brakes shrieked as it slid to a stop in front of him. It idled there with Guilmon staring Takato down, “YOU KNOW WHAT I WANT!”

“Yeah, I’m right in front of you. No need to shout. Or be rude,” Takato rubbed his ear. He stepped onto the side of the motorcycle and took hold of the handle bars. Immediately, Guilmon fell off in a daze so that Takato could get on the seat. He was hilariously small on its large frame, scooting as far forward as he could to grab both the handle bars and the foot rests, “So how does this work? Is it immediate or - CONTROL ACHIEVED! NOW WE RIDE! FIND STRONGER! KILL ALL ELSE! Yeah, I don’t think so. Also, why do you sound like Rika? IMPOSSIBLE! CONTROL HAS BEEN OVERRIDDEN! SURRENDER TO MY WILL! I AM THE BEAST! With all that shouting, I don’t doubt it. YOU WILL RESPECT MY WILL! Don’t tell me how to live my life. It’s my body and it’s my choice!”

It was weird. One second, Takato was screaming at the top of his voice and the next he spoke with the calm he’d shown before. And he was arguing with himself using the two voices.

“Tamer, what’s happening?” Leomon shouted at him. Takato answered, “The demon motorcycle is trying to take over my brain, I think. It’s not very good at it. I HEARD THAT! That’s because I said it as loud as I could. YOU WILL BREAK BEFORE ME BOY! Boy? I’m older than you, I think. Also you look really familiar, have we seen each other before? HOW DO YOU RESIST!? BREAK! BREAK! BREAK! Not with that attitude, I won’t. Maybe you ought to try asking nicely? It’s not going to hurt. AAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH! I WILL RUN YOU DOWN!”

“Is it safe to get close?” Henry asked aloud. Takato shot him a dirty look and roared, “TRY IF YOU CAN MEAT BAG! TOUCH MY TREADS! I DARE YOU! It’s probably safe. I still have control over the finer motor functions so it’s not like it can make me rev the handle bar. WHY WON’T YOU SUBMIT? You didn’t say please. SO YOU WILL IF I DO? I didn’t say that. I HATE YOU SO MUCH! GET OFF! But I just got comfortable.”

Henry stared at him quietly before asking the obvious question, “Okay, so what happens now that you’re on there? If we knock you off, does the motorcycle just topple over or does it start moving on its own?”

“WHY DON’T YOU COME CLOSER AND FIND OUT MEAT SACK! LET ME RUN YOU OVER! KILL! KILL! KILL! Don’t be rude. Those are my friends and you should treat them with respect. THEY CAN RESPECT MY TREADS! KILL THEM ALL! YES! KILL THEM ALL! Okay, that’s totally uncalled for. And I don’t know, Henry. It’s not going anywhere so I think I’m in control of it but who knows what’ll happen,” Takato replied with a shrug. Leomon readied his sword and marched over to Takato, quietly answering, “There’s only one way to find out. Hah!”

He swung it as hard as he could so that the flat end of the blade struck Takato in the chest. The boy grunted, thrown off the bike and landing beside it with a frown, “Wow! What a trip! I’d do it again if I didn’t have to fight a killer bike for control of my own body. Now where did you come from? I mean...you weren’t here last time I was in the Digital World. Another world? Another version of the Digital World? What’s your story?”

“Not knowing things seems to be a theme for you, doesn’t it?” Terriermon observed. All eyes were on the motorcycle now as it sat there unmoving. Its engine was still running despite having no rider, but it had lost all ability to propel itself forward without a rider to steer or keep it balanced. Then it toppled over into the sand. Guilmon sniffed the motorcycle and Takato dusted himself off, “Well, that’s that. We should not do that again.”

“We? That was all you, Takato,” Henry slapped his back, then looked back down at the motorcycle. They were all thinking the same thing, even though they weren’t saying it. They should probably destroy it. Leomon raised his sword above his head, “Well, let’s finish this!”

“Wait!” Takato interrupted, “If we destroy this, someone’s going to need to absorb its data. The last thing we need is for its data to get loose into the Digital world! Who knows what kind of damage that could do if all that...killing intent ended up scattered. It might drive us all crazy. Or, worse, it could just mean the motorcycle reformats somewhere else. And then we’ll be right back where we started.”

“Are you sure about any of that?” Leomon asked, poking the motorcycle with the pointy end of his sword. The motorcycle revved its engine in protest but that just made Leomon jab it harder. Everyone else leapt back in surprise, covering their ears as it roared even louder. Terriermon commented, “I guess it’s still kicking.”

“But it doesn’t look like it can do anything without a rider so who cares?” Henry pointed out. The motorcycle continued to rev its engine in protest, trying in vain to do something other than just lay on the ground. The noise started to draw attention though as the mud bear digimon started to emerge from their huts en masse to see the motorcycle for themselves. One of them looked at it, “Is it…is it beaten?”

“Looks like it,” Leomon said, continuing to poke it with his sword, “As long as no one else climbs on it, it’ll just lay there and gather dust.”

That announcement drove the motorcycle into a rage as it started roaring its engine as loud as it could, making its rear wheel spin so fast that it began to spin in place on the ground. The Chuchidarumon retreated away in terror until Leomon jabbed his sword between the spikes of the rear wheel to stop it from spinning. The sword made a sickening grinding noise as the wheel became stuck on the sword and the engine finally died. Takato pointed at the motorcycle, “Are you done throwing a tantrum? Because it’s not going to help you get out of your situation. And it’s not going to make us help you get up. So why not stop with this and-”

As Takato continued to lecture the motorcycle, another soft rumble caught their attention. Juri clung on to Leomon, “Earthquake!”

“Not an earthquake! A sink hole!” Takato said, moving back from the motorcycle as the ground opened up just ahead of them. As they retreated away, the hole widened large enough to swallow the motorcycle into it. About a meter down into the hole was a layer of boiling hot magma that consumed the motorcycle. The motorcycle revved its in engine, creating a horrible grinding noise as it sank into the molten crag and burst into flame. One of the Chuchidarumon threw a rock at it as it sank in, “Good riddance!”

“That stupid thing has been terrorizing us for weeks! We could only leave our homes for a few moments at a time before it came to attack us!” another added, “Thank goodness it’s all over.”

Juri shared that sentiment - watching Takato go half insane like that was terrifying. What would possess the motorcycle to even behave like that? Why was it so driven to destroy everything? What had the Digital World ever done to it to make it like that?

The earth began to rumble again, and the surface of the lava began to ripple outwards until the motorcycle emerged. It flew out of the pit that had opened in the ground, driven by a new rider - a tall man wearing all leather under black armor. It wore a violet mask over its face, concealing everything but three glaring eyes full of blood thirsty glee. The rider cheered, “OH YEAH! THIS IS POWER, RIGHT HERE! REAL POWER! OH, I CAN FEEL IT! ALL OF IT! LISTEN UP! I AM BEELZEMON, RIDER OF THE BEHEMOTH, KING OF THE DIGITAL WORLD, DESTROYER OF WORLDS, AND WRECKER OF YOUR SHIT!”

“Well now I’ve seen everything and I hate it,” Takato threw up his hands in frustration, “I mean what did I miss? The Digital World is a lot more surreal than I remember.”

“He smells familiar,” Guilmon sniffed in the Beelzemon’s direction, “He smells like…Impmon.”

Juri squinted her eyes at Beelzemon, unsure there was a resemblance between the digimon. She had only seen Impmon once, and this was definitely not him. But Guilmon seemed to recognize him. Takato blinked and pointed at the digimon in disbelief, “That’s Impmon? He’s a lot taller than I remember.”

“Wait, Impmon is the one who kidnapped Calumon, right?” Henry pointed out. Beelzemon grunted, “Hmph.”

“Where is he!?” Terriermon shouted, “Don’t you know what you did by giving him over to the Devas!”

“So what? That ain’t my problem,” Beelzemon growled, revving the engine of the motorcycle. Takato snapped his fingers, “I got it! You’re infected by the motorcycle! It’s in your head and making you exceptionally violent! We just got to fix that and knock you off.”

“Knock me off? What? Are you mockin’ me!?” Beelzemon roared. He cracked his knuckles and reached for a strap on the side of the motorcycle, producing a double barreled shotgun which he cocked by spinning it in his hand. He pointed it straight at them, “I’ll show you! TAKE THIS!”

“DUCK!” Takato shouted, diving onto Guilmon and pushing him to the ground. Henry followed suit, holding Terriermon close as he dove for the dirt. Leomon followed suit, removing her from his shoulder and hugging her tight as he leapt for safety behind one of the buildings. All of the Chuchidarumon ran away in a panic, running into their homes for safety while Beelzemon roared, “THAT’S RIGHT YOU LITTLE SHITS! RUN! RUN AWAY! AH-HA-HA-HA!”

“So did he always swear this much or is that just the motorcycle?” Terriermon asked, watching Beelzemon rev the engine again as he turned the motorcycle towards them. He grinned ear to ear and revved his engine one more time before turning away from them. He raised his middle finger at them and rode off into the distance, taking one last chance to shout, “I DIDN’T NEED HUMANS’ THEN AND I DIDN’T NEED ‘EM NOW! SCREW YOU DWEEBS!”

“Well, at least we know Impmon’s safe,” Takato said dryly, taking a moment to dust the sand off himself before helping his partner up. Guilmon frowned, “He seemed really mad. I hope he’s not mad at us.”

“I doubt it,” Takato frowned, “We got two choices: go after him to find Calumon or keep going to the Bastion to find the others.”

Juri didn’t like the fact that they had two equally difficult choices to make in front of them and frowned at Henry’s answer, “That shouldn’t even be a question. We find Rika and the others, then we go after Beelzemon. Besides, without Calumon, none of our digimon can digivolve. We’ll need as many of us together as we can to stand a chance. Rika’s our best fighter and Juri’s still new to all this. No offense, Juri.”

“None taken,” Juri waved it off, putting on her biggest smile while feeling more useless than she had a in a while. Leomon was probably the strongest digimon on their team right now, and she hadn’t done anything with him. Rather, he’d taken initiative on everything. She felt like a horrible partner right now.

#Digimon Tamers #Fanfiction #archiveofourown #He swears a lot now #Or maybe he always did in his head #Tamer #Digimon

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