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zelenacat · 4 years

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When We Were Young- Chapter 9- An Obitine Story

The fourteen and a half years that had passed since Duchess Satine had heard the name Obi-Wan Kenobi had been semi-peaceful. Korkie was sixteen now, and attended the Royal Academy of Government, Satine couldn’t be more proud of him. Satine had also kept tabs on Tyra, at sixteen, she was a padawan learner to Quinlan Vos and was known to be an acquired taste, like her master. Tristan Wren, a blonde boy of fourteen had great skill in martial combat and was interested in the sciences. Mara had been harder to find at first, but Parna arranged a meeting between Kamrari and his apprentice a few weeks ago. She was very clever for a fourteen-year-old, and had figured out who Satine was.

“Yes, Mara,” she’d whispered, “I am the Duchess.”

“I have a pin with your emblem on it.”

Despite herself, Satine had smiled, “I’m glad you haven’t lost it.”

Mara looked the Duchess straight in the eye, “I would never lose the only gift my mother gave me.”

Those words kept Satine calm when she realized that she didn’t really like the people her children were becoming. However, she couldn’t have raised them herself, and they had their lives, that was the most important thing.

“Your Grace?”

Satine looked up, Parna was standing at the door to her personal parlor.

“The guards have informed me that the Jedi is here.”

The Duchess felt the atmosphere change when she walked into the room. Testing her old love while trying to keep her voice neutral, Satine spoke to him.

“Master Kenobi, my shining Jedi knight to the rescue once again.”

“After all these years, you’re even more beautiful than ever.”

Satine forced herself to stay composed, “Kind words from a man who accuses me of treachery.”

“I would never accuse you of personal wrongdoing, Duchess.” Obi-Wan commented seriously, “however-”

As Obi-Wan launched into some story, Satine was only half listening. That beard, he hadn’t had a beard last time they’d met.

“Everyone of my people is as trustworthy as I am.” the Duchess concluded.

“I know we sound defensive but-”

“Clearly,” Satine huffed, “your investigation was ordered because the senate is eager to intervene in our affairs.”

“My investigation was ordered by the Jedi Council.” Obi-Wan said calmly.

Satine frowned, “I stand corrected.”

After a moment of silence, Satine held out her hand.

“General Kenobi, perhaps you’d like to join me on a walk through the city.”

With grace, Obi-Wan took Satine’s hand and offered her his arm. The Duchess gestured to her lady.

“It’s so good to see you again, Obi-Wan,” Satine confessed when they arrived at the park, “despite the circumstances.”

“Your peaceful ways have paid off,” complimented the Jedi, “Mandalore has prospered since the last time I was here.”

“Not everyone on Mandalore is convinced that our commitment to peace is a sign of progress.” Satine divulged, launching into a speech on Death Watch.

“I hope you’re right, Duchess.”

Satine smirked, remembering the first time Obi-Wan admitted she was right about something. It was Draboon.

“Something amusing, Duchess?”

Satine strut forward, “Your choice of words pleases me is all, Master Jedi.”

Obi-Wan made a noise in his throat, likely a guttural reaction to the word “please.” She’d left it open, clever She-Wolf that Satine was, he could answer that any way he wished.

Rushing to catch up with her, Obi-Wan answered, “I wasn’t aware that I was entertaining, Satine.”

“You aren’t aware of many things, Ben.”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow at her, this was getting dangerously close to their old ways.

“Do tell me, Master Jedi,” the Duchess switched tactics, “do you fancy yourself a peacekeeper?”

This thread of conversation lasted until the monument in front of them exploded.

“Are you alright?”

It was the emotion in Obi-Wan’s words that made her breath hitch.

“I’m fine.”

Running into the fray, Satine let herself help those struggling to stand. She had a soft soul deep down, really, she knew that about herself.

“I want to interview everyone here,” Obi-Wan announced, “no one is to leave this scene.”

No sooner had he said this than a rogue pedestrian ran from the crime.

“You there!”

What followed next were a shocking chain of events. At the end of it all, Satine couldn’t believe that one of her people would give up his own life to give ground to a cause that hated her.

“I didn’t kill him.”

“I know,” Satine said cooly, “that’s why I’m still talking to you.”

When they arrived back at the palace for their journey to Concordia, Parna brought out a new outfit for her lady.

“The Master Jedi’s arrival seems to have upset you.” she commented.

Satine sighed, “I never let my emotions get such control of me.”

“If I may, your Grace,” Parna ventured closer, “you called the Master Jedi Ben.”

“Yes, I did.”

Parna raised an eyebrow, “Many years ago you told me that the father of your children was named Ben.”

Satine went red, realizing what she’d done.

“You needn’t worry, Your Grace,” Parna took Satine’s hands in hers, “he doesn’t seem to know.”

“It’s myself I’m worried about Parna,” the Duchess confessed, “I never got over him.”

“You’ll be alright, Satine,” assured her lady, “you’re strong.”

“Thank you, Parna, I surely hope I am.”

When Satine saw Obi-Wan again, she thought she caught his eyes lingering on her pale collarbone, which her salmon-colored dress exposed. Hiding her hopefulness with a smile, Satine let Obi-Wan lead her onto the ship.

They talked about Concordia’s history on the ride over, but what they did not mention was how Obi-Wan knew such information. How Satine used to tell him about Mandalorian history while bandaging his wounds.

“Duchess Satine,” began the Governor, “you are most welcome.”

The Duchess replied gracefully, remembering on her part to introduce Obi-Wan, which actually, she was quite proud of.

“Governor Vizsla is one of the officials I spoke of,” Satine continued, “he’s been working to find the members of Death Watch.”

After a brief discussion, the Governor went to attend to the body of the bomber, in which Obi-Wan took the opportunity to gently graze the Duchess’ arm.

“Satine, I need a favor from you.”

It took a moment to recover her wits, but eventually the Duchess realized what the Jedi would be doing.

“Remember, you are here under my protection,” Satine warned, “please try not to cause problems where none yet exist.”

“Think of me as,” Obi-Wan grinned, “searching for solutions.”

“I have to tell you,” Satine yelled over the rumbling of his speeder, “I’m opposed to all of this!”

The Jedi Knight had the audacity to wink, “I’d be disappointed if you weren’t!”

After lying to the Governor, Satine retreated to the quarters that were set up for her, where Parna was reading Satine’s toilette.

“The Jedi?” she asked, without turning her head.

“Meditating.” the Duchess answered.

Parna snorted.

Smiling like a fool, Satine threw herself onto the couch and sighed, “This is going to be awful.”

“On the contrary, Your Grace,” Parna crossed her arms, “I think you are most certainly going to enjoy this.”

“That’s for certain,” Satine agreed, then, melting slightly, “he winked at me.”

“He winked at you?” Satine bit her lower lip, “Yes.”

Parna sighed, “Just a wink and you’re already like this.”

“You should’ve seen us when we were younger.” Satine’s eyes went far away.

“You forget, Your Grace,” Parna moved to stare down her lady, “I was the one who cleaned your room after his visits.”

Satine grimaced and turned a nasy shade of scarlet. Parna laughed.

“This,” Parna stated, “is going to be the highlight of my career.”

“Do ready me for dinner, Parna.” Satine huffed.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

After fixing her hair, the Duchess went to drinks with the Governor, where they discussed the Death Watch problem. For some reason, the shadows cast on the official’s face unnerved Satine.

“Take it as a compliment,” Governor Vizsla toasted, “someone very powerful is working towards your downfall.”

Satine frowned, mulling over her thoughts. Who could possibly want her gone?

“Duchess, please acknowledge.” Obi-Wan’s voice echoed in her ear.

This was an awkward spot to be in. Using all the political skill she had learned in the last seventeen or so years, Satine maneuvered out of her situation with the Governor and grabbed a speeder.

“Where exactly are you?” the Duchess whispered when she arrived.

“Listen for the loud, metallic, clanging sound,” Obi-Wan snapped, “that would be the machine about to chop me into bits.”

Ignoring Obi-Wan’s snark, Satine followed the loud, metallic, clanging sound after triggering an alarm at the entrance. She barely made it under the conveyor before the guards in Mandalorian armor clamored away.

“It certainly took you long enough!” huffed Obi-Wan.

“You know, I haven’t saved you yet!” Satine remarked.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, “no need to remind me of that.”

“Be patient.” Satine scoffed.

“I happen to be a bit short on patience right now!” Obi-Wan countered.

Muttering to herself and ignoring her Jedi, Satine fiddled with the control panel.

“Satine, turn the machine off!” yelled Obi-Wan.

“I’m trying!” Satine remarked hotly.

“Satine!”

The Duchess pushed the right button, she grinned.

“Look out!”

As Satine was grabbed from behind, she kicked a barrel into the machine perfectly enabling one of Obi-Wan’s grand escapes. Then, with a few kicks and grunts, the Jedi had freed her.

Straightening her shoulders, the Duchess commented, “For a man sworn to peace, you take an unseemly pleasure in the injuries of others.”

“For a woman sworn to non-violence you don’t seem troubled that I could’ve been killed back there.” came Obi-Wan’s snarky retort.

“But you werent,” Satine insisted, “and yet I still haven’t heard any thanks.”

“Well,” Obi-Wan sighed, “you certainly haven’t changed much.”

Covering her eyes, the Duchess pretended not to notice as Obi-Wan punched a Death Watch member.

“This is not the way we came in.” observed the Jedi.

“Look,” came a far off cry, “it’s the Jedi!”

Pulling Satine behind the safety of a rock, Obi-Wan grinned. Satine scoffed.

“We’ll have to stand and fight, or in your case, just stand.”

The Duchess of Mandalore was offended. Still, she tried not to gape as Obi-Wan got up to his old tricks, or look at his muscles while doing so, definitely not that. Inhaling sharply as her Ben was knocked down, Satine threw a rock at the soldier.

“You there!”

Then, she ran being a rock, being useless in a fight as she was.

“Satine!”

“I’m alright.” she responded, feeling soft at the concern in Obi-Wan’s voice.

Obi-Wan searched her face, his blue eyes she knew so well lingering on her jaw. Their moment was cut short however, when Obi-Wan abruptly stood and faced a new enemy.

“Governor?” Satine gasped.

“For generations my ancestors fought bravely as warriors against the Jedi-”

“Save the history lesson, Pre,” Satine shouted, “you’re a traitor!”

“You tarnish the name Mandalorian,” Vizsla spat, then, turning to Obi-Wan “defend her if you will.”

Satine was shocked on many fronts, she had never been betrayed before, yet Obi-Wan, it seemed, was going to defend her. They fought, Satine began to tremble, cursing herself for getting accustomed to safety.

“Satine!”

Then, she saw it. Having been by Obi-Wan’s side in imminent danger before, Satine knew exactly what to do, jump into the Jedi’s arms. The landing was rough, somehow, she landed on the cold stone, Obi-Wan’s body as her shield from the debris above.

There was an awkward moment when neither of them moved, remembering what they used to do when pressed so close together. Then, stiffly, Obi-Wan stood.

“Your Grace-”

“I’m fine,” Satine turned to the Jedi, “but you are not.”

Obi-Wan winced.

“Give me your arm.” Satine said gently.

Obi-Wan shook his head.

“I’m not going to wound your pride, Ben,” the Duchess sighed, genly taking Obi-Wan’s arm around her shoulder, “please just lean on me.”

The Jedi did, but Satine didn’t need the force to know he was uncomfortable. When did he get so rigid, so formal? The Duchess supposed she had changed to then. Maybe, Obi-Wan didn’t want to resume their relationship where it was abruptly cut off? That thought cut Satine to the core as they approached the speeders, and gingerly, she lent Obi-Wan some of his dignity back.

“I suppose we’re even now.” she concluded.

“How so?” grunted the Jedi.

“I saved your life,” Satine explained, “you saved mine.”

“Yes, well,” Obi-Wan grinned, “mine was the more daring of the two rescues.”

When they arrived back at the Governor's House, Satine decided against cleaning up Obi-Wan’s wounds like she used to, and bid the Jedi a chilly goodnight. Parna however, noticed some bruises would form by morning.

“The enemy grappled me,” Satine explained sadly, “I fear this problem is more widespread than we thought.”

“Satine, your safety is of the utmost importance.” Parna said, breaking formalities.

Sighing, Satine pulled on her nightdress.

“I hope this distraction won’t let you forget that.” continued the lady.

“I hope so too,” Satine agreed, climbing into bed, “thank you for our help, Parna.”

In the morning, breakfast was polite and the flight back to Sundari was silent. Satine was grateful when Senator Merrick and Prime Minister Almec exchanged pleasantries with the Jedi so she didn't have to. If things continued this way, it would turn out awful.

After a quick scuffle over who was supporting the Death Watch, Satine left Obi-Wan on the loading platform, not expecting to see him for some time. Unfortunately, he was on the same ship she was, so there wouldn't be many places to hide.

After a quick brush up with Parna, Satine made her way to the ship’s parlor-like room and sat herself upon a cushioned dias. Having already sent for Obi-Wan, Satine began to inform her peers of the current terrible affront on life itself, the Republic’s newest war.

“And yet some would argue,” Obi-Wan crossed his arms, “the safest defense is a swift and decisive offense.”

Satine raised her eyebrow at the Jed.

“You are quite the general now, aren't you, Master Kenobi?” she asked.

“Forgive me for interrupting, Your Highness,” Obi-Wan paused, “I meant no disrespect.”

“Really,” Satine turned to address her peers, “Senators, I assume you are all acquainted with the collection of half-truths and hyperbole known as Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

The Jedi grimaced, Satine smiled.

“Your Highness is,” Obi-Wan frowned, “too kind.”

“You’re right,” Satine frowned, momentarily lost in thought, “I am.”

Had the Duchess scanned the room, she would’ve seen the inquisitive looked of Senator Robb and Jedi Master Anakin Skywalker.

“Allow me to introduce my fellow Jedi,” Obi-Wan gestured, penetrating the silence, “Anakin Skywalker.”

Satine smirked, “I remember a time when Jedi were not generals, but peacekeepers.”

“We are protectors, Highness,” Anakin shifted, “yours at the moment, we fight for peace.”

The Duchess huffed, fully herself once more, “ What an amusing contradiction.”

“What Master Skywalker means is we are acting at the behest of Your Highness, to protect you from the Death Watch and the Separatists who don’t share your neutral point of view.”

“I ask for no such thing.” Satine stated plainly.

“That may be so,” Obi-Wan stepped forward, “but a majority of your court did.”

Satine gave Obi-Wan a pointed look, “I do not remember you as one tot hide behind excuses.”

“I do not remember you as one to shrink from responsibilities.” Obi-Wan countered calmly.

If it wasn’t for Senator Orn Free Ta, Satine would have argued with Obi-Wan all night. She’d put her finger on it now, what made her so mad. He was stiff, the years had made him so, he was formal and changed, nothing like her Ben, the father of her children.

“Your Grace, In regard to the senate vote, we think-”

“I think a multitude makes discord, not good council.” Satine concluded.

“You are right, My Lady.”

Trying to ignore Obi-Wan, Satine engaged Senator Robb in pleasant conversation, her musical laugh being distracting enough.

“A republic military offensive is the only sure defense against the Separatists.” Obi-Wan interrupted.

Satine threw her glass at Obi-Wan, who dodged it with ease.

Standing with a calm smile, Satine stated, “Even extremists can be reasoned with.”

“Perhaps, if one can be heard over the clanking of their battle droids!”

The Duchess scoffed, “The sarcasm of a soldier.”

“The delusion of a dreamer.” the Jedi countered.

“Duchess, Master Jedi,” Senator Marrick turned between the two, “itt’s been a long trip, I think we can all use a little rest and refreshment.”

Satine stared Obi-Wan down, how dare he call her that!

“Fine!”

Shoving Obi-Wan out of the way, Satine left the room to cool off.

“Oh, Parna,” Satine huffed as she opened her quarter doors, “I hate him!”

Parna turned, gaping with a tilted head.

“That’s quite the interesting tale, Your Grace.”

“I can’t stand him now,” the Duchess threw herself onto the couch, “it’s just like, it’s just like when we were young.”

“You’re not old, Your Grace.”

“Younger.” Satine corrected.

“If I can remember correctly, Satine,” Parna grinned, “he had to erase your guards’ memories because-”

“Before that, Parna,” Satine waved, “I meant before that.”

Eventually, the Duchess returned to the foyer for dinner, which, pleasantly, she found was free of Master Kenobi.

“I beg your pardon, Senators-”

Or maybe she spoke too soon.

“Our men are investigating a situation below decks, I respectfully ask you to wait here till it’s settled.”

Satine frowned, someone really wanted to kill her. Obi-Wan’s comm beeped.

The Jedi had the audacity to smile, “Please excuse me.”

Becoming a slave to her own thoughts, Satine didn’t hear anything else until Obi-Wan ignited his lightsaber.

“Secure the lifts!” he shouted with urgency.

It did no good, a nasty spider droid nearly got to Satine, fortunately for her, Obi-Wan did his duty as always, and protected her. She cursed her wild heart for fluctuating so fast at his valiant efforts.

Senator Orn Free Ta screamed and ran backwards. Satine looked down, miniature versions of the spider droid scattered around the room. Fleeing to a remote corner, Satine was surprised to find Obi-Wan following her.

“Why-”

“My duty is to protect you, Duchess.” Obi-Wan replied, keeping his eyes on the floor.

Satine pulled out a deactivator and shot at the droids. Now she was back to back with Obi-Wan, fighting off enemies like had occurred a decade and a half before.

“Do you always carry a deactivator? Obi-Wan yelled, slightly agitated.

“Just because I’m a pacifist doesn’t mean I won’t defend myself.” Satine responded.

Obi-Wan huffed, “Now you sound like a Jedi.”

As the chaos faded, Obi-Wan bent down and picked up one of the disabled droids.

“Just like that swarm of venemites on Draboon, remember?”

A smile pricked Staine’s lips, “How could I forget, I still have the scar.”

“Begging your pardon, Duchess,” Obi-Wan began, falling for Satine’s trap, “I distinctly remember carrying you to safety.”

Satine turned, her expression gleeful, “I meant the scar I got after you fell, and dropped me.”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan looked down, “yes.”

Satine couldn’t help herself, she giggled, which caused Obi-Wan to raise his head and try to discern what was so funny.

“Why don’t you go to your quarters, Duchess,” Obi-Wan suggested, “this must’ve been very trying for your nerves.”

“Are you contradicting yourself, Master Jedi,” Satine raised an eyebrow, “should I be safe without your protection?”

“We’ve swept the area, Satine,” Obi-Wan sighed, using the Duchess’ name, “you'll be fine.”

Parna was relieved to see her lady.

“Oh, Satine,” she sighed, “we were ordered to stay where we were-”

“I know,” the Duchess took her lady’s hands in hers, “but you’re alright?”

“Me, of course, yes, and yourself?”

“I’m fine,” Satine lowered her eyes, “but I hate that I am the target of these attempts.”

“You are strong, Your Grace,” Parna looked Satine dead in the eye, “you will survive this.”

Nodding, the Duchess allowed Parna to recomb her hair.

“Your Highness,” a droid beeped, “the party is gathering in the foyer.”

“I must be off,” Satine stood, “thank you for your help, Parna.”

“Of course, My Lady.”

At dinner once again, Satine was surprised to find everything in order.

“Duchess,” observed Senator Ta, “you are not eating?”

“I have no appetite.” Satine confessed.

She was still mulling over the fact that someone very powerful wanted her dead, and her people were willing to betray their own Duchess to help assassinate her.

The door opened, Satine felt Obi-Wan’s energy, not in the literal force sense, but she knew his mannerisms. The Duchess focused her eyes on her wine glass, they only rose when the last spider droid was revealed.

“My theory, is that our little friend will attack the Duchess and anyone who defends her,” the Jedi paused, “anyone that is, except the traitor who programmed it.”

“Obi-Wan, this line of questioning borders on torture!” Satine stood.

“Oh, I assure our pacifist Duchess that all is under control,” Obi-Wan’s tone was calm and inquisitive, but Satine felt there was an eagerness there.

Why, she dared not guess.

“But it seems to like you, Senator Marrick.” Obi-Wan observed.

“Really, General Kenobi,” the Senator paused, “you’re quite clever.”

Satine stayed still, perfectly in shock. An elected representative of the people, turning on her? Marrick smacked the droid out of Obi-Wan’s hands and, unmoving, the Duchess watched itt approach her. At the last moment, she jumped backward.

For a second, she breathed easy, seeing her shining Jedi knight jump to her rescue, but as a yank jerked her backwards, Satine felt that ease of being diminish. The Duchess felt a pang in her heart at being separated from Obi-Wan who she had just been reunited with. Satine was certain she was going to die.

“Monster,” she cried as Tal Marrick shot the crewmen, “you’re a horrid monster.”

“Get used to it.” was his smug response.

The Duchess’ jaw dropped when the Senator contacted Death Watch command. Was she so easily betrayed?

“Reinforcements are on their way.”

Satine’s blood went cold. What would she tell Korkie, Tyra Satine, Tristan, and Mara? Only one out of the four children knew there were hers, and that was based on only an inkling. Would she die without saying goodbye to her children?

“Come in, Kenobi,” drawled Marrick, “you’re expected.”

“Tal Marrick, you are under arrest, release the Duchess!”

Satine’s heart palpitated wildly, Obi-Wan was going to rescue her again. The Mandalorian part of her was stubborn and wanted to say he didn’t need to save her, but the reasonable half of her brain knew that she was being held hostage.

“I took the precaution of wiring this ship’s engine, I press this red button,” Marrick smiled, “and we all will die.”

“Obi,” Satine pleaded, “if you have any respect for me, you will not take such risks with so many lives at stake.”

“Satine,” Obi-Wan’s eyes widened as Marrick pulled her away, “don’t!”

The Duchess was a mess, her emotions in a storm, she had so much left to say. What if Obi-Wan never found out? As Satine watched the Jedi follow in his crouched fighting stance, Satine decided on what to tell him.

“This is Marrick, stand by to disengage,” the Senator grinned, ‘say farewell, Duchess.”

“Obi-Wan,” Satine bit her lip, “it looks like I may never see you again, I don’t know quite how to say this but: I’ve loved you, from the moment you came to my aid all those years ago.”

Marrick groaned, “I don’t believe this.”

“Satine, this is hardly the time or place for-”

Satine whimpered.

“Alright, had you said the word, I would’ve left the Jedi order.”

Those words brought tears to Satine’s eyes.

“That is touching, truly it is, but it’s making me sick, and we really must be going.”

“Ugh,” Satine coughed, “you have the romantic soul of a slug, Marrick, and slugs are often trod upon.” Grabbing the gun, Satine held it at arm’s length, aiming at the Senator as he explained his plan to kill everyone on the coronet.

“I will not allow that.” Satine spat.

“And what will you do,” Marrick asked, ��if you shoot me, you condemn yourself a hypocrite to all the pacifist ideals you hold so dear.”

“And you, Kenobi, you are no stranger to violence, you’d be hailed as a hero by everyone on this ship,” Marrick shifted his eyes to Satine and giggled, “almost everyone.”

“Come on then,” the Senator gestured, “who will strike first and brand themselves a cold-blooded killer.”

Within the next second, Tal Marrick was dead and Satine realized she was holding a gun. Distraught, she threw it away.

“Anakin.”

Satine stepped forward, “Obi-Wan, I-”

“General Skywalker, sir, the last of the droids have been defeated.”

The Duchess straightened, “I must get back to the business of diplomacy.”

Instead what she did was run to Parna and cry.

#obitine #satine kryze #duchess satine #satine x obiwan #obiwan #obi wan kenobi #korkie kryze #korkie kenobi

31 notes · View notes

innuendostyles · 4 years

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Umm maybe Ben exploring his ‘feminine’ side more????? How bout him asking u to paint his nails? Or him asking if he can wear your makeup? Idk thought it would be cute hahah

ben wants to try something different

2.8k -> masterlist

waking up next to ben was one of her favourite things on the planet. something about the way his hand would rest underneath her shirt (if she had one on) and rub small circles under her breast settled her like nothing else could. she normally woke up to ben cooing to her, usually murmurs of how beautiful she was when she slept, or if she’d overslept it would be gentle reminders of where she had to be - which was why she was surprised to wake up to dead silence.

she yearned to feel his hands on her skin, as she was so used to, but instead, her hand simply rested in ben’s. her palm face down on ben’s larger hand while he traced one pointer finger over her freshly manicured nails. they were painted a pastel blue colour, completely matte except for a shimmery top coat applied to her ring finger. she’d been on the phone ben while she was getting her nails done, asking him what he thought she should get done when the nail lady asked her what colour she’d like. he asked her what clothes she had on at that moment, to which she replied a light blue jumper that had a sparkly carebear printed on the front of it. he simply gave a ‘well then…’ and told her he’d ring her back when she was done. so to see him admiring her fresh set wasn’t surprising.

his eyes flashed to hers as she roused herself from sleep, carefully removing her hand from his to wipe the drool from her chin. he gave her a light chuckle as her body strung completely taught before laying entirely limp back on the bed and stretching her arms across his chest. she clung to him like a koala, pressing a couple of kisses to his neck when she had enough energy.

“you like my nails?” she whispered, pressing one final kiss to his neck before sitting up.

“yeah.” he chuckled, resting his hand on her hip as she reached to the bedside table to retrieve her phone.

“i’ll make some breakfast.” she said, leaning down to place her hand on ben’s cheek before leaving the bedroom.

she walked down the stairs, calling for frankie as she reached the bottom step, happy to receive many sloppy kisses to her face when she bent down to give the dog her favourite behind the ear scratches.

there was a pink bottle stuck in her mouth, which y/n speedily removed and wiped on her t-shirt to get rid of all the dog spit. it was her nail polish, a cheaper dupe of some dior varnish she’d seen on instagram. the colour, effectively called ‘cha-ching cherry’ was a hot pink, and she’d bought it purely because it was on sale at the drugstore and reminded her of the dior version.

“how’d ya get this, silly girl?” she cooed to the dog, stamping kisses on the top of her head. she wondered how she even reached and opened the polish in the first place, she was sure it had still been in the plastic wrap it came in when she went to bed last night… no, it definitely was. she remembers placing it on the shelf next to the tv when she emptied her bag after she came home. so how had a three year old dog opened protective packaging? it was a mystery to her. instead of going full sherlock mode, she cracked some eggs into a pan and discarded the thought to the back of her mind.

she had to shout ben downstairs, which was unusual, because normally he’s downstairs as soon as she is, offering to help her make breakfast and playing whatever music he was in the mood for over the apartment speakers. he came down the stairs looking rather sweaty and she wondered what he’d been up to. looked like he’d just run a fucking marathon, but he was still dressed in his pyjamas (a pair of calvin kleins couldn’t be classed as pyjamas, surely?) so she knew that answer was out of the equation. maybe he’d been brushing his teeth super violently. she knows that’s not true when he goes to kiss her cheek as a good morning and she shies away from him with a ”morning breath!” and a playful grimace. he chuckles at her, bending down to pat frankie on the head.

he got frankie’s food ready before even realising he had a plate of eggs and fruit waiting in front of him. he sat at the rather small dining table, pouring them some orange juice and handing her the glass once he’d finished. even gave her a little more than he had, because he always complains she doesn’t get her 5 a day.

he just wants her to feel happy and healthy! can he complain, when she treats him so well and even leaves his eggs on for a whole minute longer than hers because she knows he doesn’t like it when the yellow is all runny? when she takes care of a dog that originally was the shared pup of him and his ex?

he has no time to think before she’s giggling a little, pointing to frankie in the corner of the kitchen who had somehow managed to eat all her food and drink all her water in the space of 2 minutes. he giggled as well, taking a bite of his eggs and calling out a ”good girl” to the beagle.

“yeah, well our ‘good girl’ somehow managed to open my new nail polish and came to me this morning with it in her mouth like it was some sort of present she bought! might have to start calling her father christmas!” she jokes, taking a bite of banana before breaking some off and making a kissy sound to garner frankie’s attention before placing some on the floor next to her for the dog. she did love her banana.

ben places his hand quickly onto his thigh beneath the table after he caught sight of it on top of the tablecloth, hoping she hadn’t noticed how quickly he made the movement. she simply furrows her brows at him, tilting her head as she asked if he was okay.

“yeah, ‘m fine just got a cramp.” he lies straight through his teeth, not being able to look her in the eyes and instead offering frankie a piece of watermelon to frankie, which was unusual for him as he never gave his food to her, claiming it ‘only gives her a bad tummy and then i’m the one who has to clean up all the sick she leaves on the bathroom floor!’, which y/n notices and gives a sigh.

“ben.” she deadpans, setting the banana peel down.

he removes his hand from his leg and sets it upon the table, in a fist originally, before he unclenches his hand and then she sees it. his ring and middle finger nails are painted pink. he looks carefully at her reaction, even though there isn’t much to go off, just a look back to his eyes after she’s seen his hand.

“are you… angry?” he questions, eyes still avoiding hers.

“i’m not angry at you for using my nail polish without telling me ben…” she says with a slight chuckle, her face looking awfully confused, “...what’s mine is yours, and all that.”

his eyes flit to her’s at this, a brow raising as he asks, “so you’re not… weirded out?”

she can’t actually tell if he’s joking or not until she looks at his hands, where he’s nervously pulling at his knuckles in hopes to make them crack. it was one of his worst habits, something he only did when he was really going through it. she realises he must have been embarrassed or feel ashamed when she tells him she wasn’t, if the way his shoulders fell from near enough above his head showed her anything.

she decides he wants to leave the conversation at that when he picks up his fork and begins eating his eggs, looking a hell of a lot less stressed than he did before.

“why were you so sweaty when you came down before?” she questions, though she’s careful to make her tone sound as least judgemental as she possibly can, offering an inquisitive smile at the end.

“i um- wanted to get it off. before you saw it.” he purses his lips before he speaks again. “i couldn’t find any of that horrid-smelling remover stuff so i was trying to scrub it off with that lemon exfoliating shit you’ve got in the shower. worked up quite a sweat.” he chuckled, and she smiled at his first genuine laugh this morning.

“ben, why did you think i’d care so much?” she asks, and she can actually feel a pain in her chest as she realises it must have been eating away at him all night after his reaction to her seeing it. the pain in her chest only deepens when she hears a muttered, “i thought you’d think it was … really weird and like… not normal.” he continues, his voice getting louder and louder as he carried on, “cause it’s like… a girls thing. and i’m not a girl. and i know you’d never think that i was stupid or weird so i don’t even know why it ran through my head cause i did it last night when you went to bed and i was still downstairs… i saw it and i just wanted to put it on me like… for fun. and then i thought you might be angry at me for opening it so i just went to bed but i couldn’t sleep cause i was worried you’d be annoyed at me so i just… spent all night looking at yours. your nails, i mean.” once he’d finished rambling, she reached a hand out to his, pulling him along until they’d settled onto the sofa in the living room.

her on her back against the arm rest, with him on his stomach laying between her legs. maybe not the most flattering position on her part, but she felt closest to him this way. she reached a hand up to his hair, running her fingers through the golden locks before sighing.

“ben, i need you to listen to what im gonna say really closely, yeah?” she whispered.

he nods, and she takes that as her cue to continue.

“it isn’t ‘a girls thing’. and i’m not angry at you, and you’re right, i’d never think you’re weird for doing anything ever. i love you, and i’m in this for the long haul, so speak to me. tell me when you wanna try new things. ‘cause you know i won’t be angry, or annoyed, or weirded out… because it’s you.” she could see his eyes softening as he stared directly into hers.

it felt like he was reaching deep inside her mind and pulling out every honest word he could find. he laid his head down on her stomach, before giving a simple, “i love you.”

“do you want me to paint the rest of them?” she asked after a couple of minutes of stroking through his hair.

“please.” he replied, and she felt his smile on her stomach as he heard frankie pattering through the doorway and coming to lie on ben’s back to join them both. he lifted his head up and formed his lips into a kissy shape, to which she leant down and pecked him.

he followed her into the kitchen to retrieve the nail polish, clapping like an excited kid as she led him upstairs. she walked into the bathroom and sat on the countertop, ben bringing a chair from the bedroom to sit in front of her. she spread her legs and placed his hand flat on the surface of the counter, protected by an old sheet of newspaper in case of a polish accident.

once she’d painted one hand, he rested it on her thigh, only beginning to stroke it once she told him his nails were dry enough. she’d finished his other hand, commending her own painting skills as she skipped the two nails he’d already done the night before, he kissed her thigh, just below where his dry hand sat, before lifting himself off the chair to press a kiss to her forehead, then her left cheek, and finally her lips. she pulled her head back as soon as she felt how dry his lips were, telling him he needed some vaseline.

he looked behind her, seeing her collection of lip products before picking up a familiar tube. it was one she used constantly, which meant it must have been good, which was the reason why he asked her to put some on him a couple of seconds later.

“vaseline isn’t the same as lipgloss, but i’ll let this one slide, my dear.” she chuckles, opening the tube of clear, strawberry scented lipgloss. it had a slight shimmer to it, especially when in the sun, and she was unbelievably excited to see it on him.

“i only picked it cause it tastes nice.” he mentions before she has the chance to apply it.

“ben! you’re not meant to eat it!” she scolds, pulling back and taking the applicator with her.

“i know! i don’t do it purposefully, i just get a mouthful sometimes after you snog me.” he says,

smiling when she laughs.

“yeah, well i think i might have to see just how it tastes the next time we snog, which i have a feeling might be in just a second.” she smirks before applying the gloss.

#my work #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody imagine #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy fanfiction #ben hardy fanfic #ben hardy fluff #bohemian rhapsody cast #ben hardy #ben hardy blurb #ben hardy imagine

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michaelgambons · 4 years

Text

Baseline Romantic

Chapter 7

Warnings: poor mental health, hospitals, cuteness overloads

Y/N woke up late on the Sunday morning, and spent a couple of minutes scrolling through twitter before groaning slightly and getting up.

Voices were coming from the kitchen, she could recognise Ben’s, but the other voice was unfamiliar.

Y/N detoured away from the kitchen to the bathroom to look at herself in the mirror. She didn’t know who was in the kitchen, but she sure as hell didn’t want to meet them looking quite as messy as she did right now.

Entering the kitchen a few minutes later, face washed and hair tied back, Y/N saw Ben with his back to her, busy with the toaster, in his joggers. At the table was a young, tall, blonde haired girl, who was wearing one of Ben’s sweaters.

‘Hi!’ Y/N said brightly as she came in.

Ben swung round, and smiled at her brightly, looking almost relieved to see her.

‘Hey, Y/N. This is Bella’ he said, gesturing at the blonde girl sat at the table.

‘Nice to meet you Bella! Is there any chance of some toast Ben? I won’t intrude for too long, I’m meeting Charlie at 2’

As Ben turned round to the toaster, you sat down at the table.

‘I’m sure I recognise you from somewhere’ Bella said. Thinking she was referring to Ben, you didn’t glance up from your phone.

‘Y/N, isn’t it? Yeah I’m sure I recognise you from somewhere’

‘Me? Sorry, I’m so used to people asking Ben that. Um, maybe, I’m on the news quite a bit - I’m a political commentator’

‘That’s it! We always have News24 on in the background at work- I must have spotted you then!’

You smile vaguely at her, with limited desire to prolong the discussion. ‘Where do you work Bella?’

‘I do PR. That’s actually how we met last night’ she giggled slightly and turned to Ben, who smiles vaguely at her, before quickly turning away. ‘I did the PR for the event we were both at’

‘Oh nice’ Y/N said vaguely.

‘I’m just going to hop into the shower, will you be ok Bella? Help yourself to any food while I’m gone’ Ben said, already out the door.

Bella smiled at him as he leaves, resembling a hungry chiwawa.

‘So, I can imagine Ben brings loads of girls back here’ Bella said turning back to Y/N. Feeling slightly annoyed to be being talked to again (did this girl not understand mornings?) Y/N said ‘only about as many as I bring back myself’. She winked at Bella, who looked taken aback.

You mock checking the time. ‘Oh shit, I need to dash. Really lovely to meet you Bella’

‘Yeah, you too! Hopefully I’ll see you again’ Bella called after you.

You smiled to yourself as you went back to your bedroom. You knew the likelihood of that was next to nothing.

—————-

After making sure that Bella had left, you drifted into the living room and sunk into a sofa. Ben sulked in after you, towel slung around his waist and droplets of water falling down his chest.

After lockdown had ended, it had been agreed that Ben would move in permanently with you and Catherine. You were more than happy with that. You loved having Ben around, loved the domestic fluffiness of it all. Only, with Ben moving in had also come the trickle of women who fell out of his bedroom.

‘A blonde named Bella who works in PR. Really Ben? You’re becoming some sort of seedy playboy- are you sure you’re not batman by night?’

Ben laughed, but looked slightly embarrassed.

‘I hope we didn’t keep you awake last night. Bella was really loud’ he says.

You snort. ‘No don’t worry, I was out like a light; fucking shattered. My new pills are knocking me out like clockwork. Anyway, just loud makes a welcome change to that squeaky one a few weeks back’

Ben laughs. ‘Christ, what was her name?’

You shrug at him. ‘If you can’t remember I’m certainly not going to. She could definitely remember yours though’. She imitated Ben’s squeaky one night stand ‘ooooh Ben, yeah just there- eeeek!’

Ben chucked a cushion at her. ‘Shut up, you’re triggering too many memories’ he laughs.

‘All I’m saying is I think you need a better vetting process’ Y/N said as she left the room, pausing to ruffle Ben’s hair as she left.

Y/N sat back on her bed. Absentmindedly her hand crept towards her panties, and slid beneath her waistband. It wasn’t a coincidence that the first thing that came to mind was Ben’s glistening post shower abs. She imagined that instead of going back to her room, she had instead gone over to him, and stared him straight in the eye as she pulled his towel away from him. Sinking down on her knees she had engulfed his dick with her mouth, and looking up, had seen him staring down at her, eyelids fluttering. She was still picturing his face as she came, quickly, brutally, writhing in her bed, his name on her lips.

This wasn’t the first time she’d got off to Ben whilst they’d lived together. In many ways it was quite useful having such a cache of material wondering around the house she could select from. She’d got quite good at telling herself she was just physically attracted to Ben. She loved Ben as a friend and a small part of her wanted to spend the night with him again. That wasn’t so unusual. Friends slept together all the time. Maybe if she could sleep with him again she could stop thinking about him. You laughed at yourself the first time it occurred to you. It was ridiculous and stupid and so unlikely to help. And it wasn’t as if she would ever act on it. He clearly wasn’t interested.

—————

That evening, it was just you and Ben in the house, Catherine was away staying at a yoga retreat in the Peak District. You’d been feeling increasingly unwell as the night progressed, and at 9:30 had muttered your excuses and headed to bed. As you were stood brushing your teeth, you suddenly felt incredibly light headed and before you had had the chance to sit down or steady yourself, you had fallen to the floor.

You came to a minute or so later, Ben peering over you looking concerned. As you opened your eyes his face flooded with relief. As you raised your head off the ground you realised he had placed you in the recovery position.

‘What happened?’ You asked, groggily, putting your face in your hands.

‘I’m not too sure. I just heard this crash from the bathroom, and shouted to see if you were ok. When you didn’t reply I came to check on you, and found you on the floor. You can’t have been out for very long- have you hurt yourself at all?’ He asked.

‘I don’t think so. I feel awful though, like I’m going to faint again’

‘Ok, I’m going to help you get into the living room,’ Ben said.

He gently lifted you to your feet, and as you steadied yourself, wiped a strand of hair out of your eyes. He cupped your face with his hands and your eyes met, yours glassy from your faint and his wide, full of concern.

Established on the sofa, you felt much better. Ben insisted however, on calling 101, much to your derision.

‘I’m calling them whether you like it or not, Y/N. Whether you speak to them or not is your choice, but I want to make sure you’re ok’

————

‘This is all such an overreaction’ you complained as Ben bundled you in his sweatshirt and helped you on with your jacket. ‘I fainted! It happens to people all the time. I don’t need to go to the hospital’

‘You heard what the woman said. She was worried it was a reaction to your medication. Come on, our Uber is here’ Ben said, offering you his hand to lead you out the door.

You held onto his hand the entire short journey to the hospital. You couldn’t quite place why, but it was comforting, warm, and he didn’t seem to resist. Once inside, checked in and sat on cold, hard backed plastic chairs, Ben had made sure you were settled before heading off to find a vending machine. He returned a few minutes later with a Diet Coke for himself and a bottle of water for you.

‘I thought caffeine was probably a bad idea until you’ve seen the doctor’ he said, registering your displeasure as you looked at the water bottle he had handed you.

You rested your head on his shoulder, and must have dozed off because the next thing you knew he was nudging you awake.

‘Come on, Y/N, they’ve just called us’ he whispered gently, helping you to your feet.

In the consultants office, you both sat down, and you handed your coat to Ben.

‘Y/N Y/L/N, right? And this must be your partner-‘

‘Flatmate’ both you and Ben said in unison

‘Sorry, flatmate. What’s been the matter today Y/N?’

You briefly explained the evenings events, looking to Ben occasionally for him to fill in any blanks you couldn’t remember.

‘The 101 lady thought it might be a reaction to some of the medication I’m on. I’ve just upped my dose of Zoloft, and she wondered if that could be it’

‘Do you mind me asking what you’re on that for?’ The doctor asked.

‘You name it, I’ve got it!’ You said brightly. ‘I’m on the Zoloft for my PTSD and depression, and until recently I was on beta blockers for my anxiety, but they were interacting with my asthma medication too much so my doctor took me off them and upped my Zoloft dose’

‘So you’re now on 150 a day?’ The doctor said, flicking through his notes.

You nodded.

‘I reckon that’s what it is, if I’m honest’ he said, turning to you. ‘That’s a big dose, and while it’s clearly what you need, it’s likely to have a few side effects with it. Fainting, or feeling light headed is quite common. If it doesn’t subside in a couple of days, I’d go back to your doctor, but for the meantime I wouldn’t worry too much about it.

You and Ben were silent in the Uber home. You were exhausted from the nights events, and still not feeling very well. Ben was staring out of the window, seemingly lost in thought.

‘Are you ok?’ You finally asked, as you took your coat off, glad to be home at last. ‘You’ve been quiet for the past 5 minutes which is completely out of character’.

‘Yeah I’m fine. Just glad you’re ok, it was quite a shock coming in and finding you like that... I didn’t realise just how bad your mental health was either. I know we’ve talked about it in the past, but you’ve always been quite blasé about it’

‘Yeah. I guess I don’t feel like there’s much to talk about. I just try and get on with it. No point burdening your friends with it unless you need to’ you said.

‘It wouldn’t be a burden though, not at all. I don’t want you to feel you can’t talk to me about things. I mean, I tell you all sorts of random shit, it’s definitely my turn to listen to you’

You yawn widely.

‘You must be fucking knackered’ Ben said. ‘Get into bed and I’ll bring you some tea’.

As you headed to bed he shouted after you ‘Do you want a hot water bottle too? It’s really cold tonight!’

You smiled slightly to yourself at his fussiness before you responded.

#ben hardy #ben hardy imagines #ben hardy x reader

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hopes4gf · 3 years

Text

Thievery and Mischief- (a descendants/marvel crossover)

After the tour, I decide to pay a little visit to my friends at Auradon Prep, Tia and Tavian, my favorite twins from Louisiana and drama club captains.

”Yo, Adri! What’s up?” Tavian says.

”Long time no see, how y’all doing?” I ask.

”Good now that there’s some peace and quiet,” Tia says, looking up towards the top of the stage.

”Not my fault you guys are so boring,” A voice says from the rafters.

I look up and see a guy with large wings, almost like a bird’s.

He stares at me, his eyes widening and suddenly he swoops down.

“Holy crap, you’re Adri Ababwa. I’m a big fan,” The guy says now standing in front of me.

”Nice wings man,” I say.

”Thanks, I grew them myself. Mutant powers y’know?” Angel says.

”Mutants?” I ask.

”My dad is a fairy, my mom is a sorceress. I’m Angel, by the way,” He says.

”Angel...by any chance are you the Bell twins’ cousin?” I ask.

He nods.

”They talk about you all the time, I see why now,” I say.

”It’s rare to see mutants in families. Some have wings, have claws in their hands, can shapeshift, that’s probably why I look up to you,” Angel says.

”Cause I can shapeshift into a tiger?” I ask.

”Exactly,” Angel says.

Tia and Tavian stare at us confusedly.

”Power talk,” I say.

The bell rings and the twins collect their things.

”Ooh, Tia! When’s the next time your mom can make me some of her famous gumbo?” I ask.

”If you come with me now, we can stop by her restaurant,” Tia says.

I turn to Angel.

”Wanna come?” I ask.

”Sure,” Angel says.

————

After meeting Angel, I learned some things about mutants and their abilities. This lesson was pretty enlightening and made me feel like I wasn't alone with my curse.

Later, I get a call from a number I don't recognize while walking through the gardens. I pick up the phone.

"Hello?" I say through the phone.

"Hey, Adri. It's been a while," A familiar voice says through the phone.

I recognize the voice to be Stefani, or Lady Gaga through the phone.

"Oh my gosh, Stefani! It's such an honor to talk to you again," I say happily.

I sit under the usual gossip tree to take the call.

"I know. Anyways, darling, I have a little project for you. You're someone who I love and hold dear as an artist, so I want to collaborate with you on a couple of songs for a movie I'm producing a soundtrack for," Stefani says.

"You want to collaborate with me for a motion picture soundtrack?" I ask.

"Mark Ronson is also gonna help and a couple of people from my team too. I was also looking in the credits for your album and I saw your boyfriend did the mixing for a couple of songs. I was hoping you and him might want to tag along on this," Stefani adds.

"I'm sure he would e happy to, but for now all I can say is yes to you on my own behalf. I would absolutely love to," I say with a smile.

"Great! I'll text you meeting details on Friday," Stefani says.

"Great!" I say.

I hang up the phone and giggle. I feel like screaming for joy. So many great things are happening! I guess that's what happens when you hit rock-bottom, you only go up from there. And now, everything is looking up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I walk to the gym where I find Jay with Lonnie and the rest of the fencing team.

”Take a break, boys!” Lonnie says, blowing her new captain’s whistle.

Jay spots me by the doors and walks over with a smile on his face.

”Hey, babe,” He greets.

Before he can kiss me, I put my finger over his lips.

”We have songs to write for Gaga,” I say with a smile.

Jay’s smile drops.

”Gaga? As in, Lady Gaga? Grammy award winner, Gaga?” Jay asks.

”She just called me and she wants us to write her songs for a movie,” I say.

Jay smiles widely and lifts me of the ground, hugging me tightly.

“Jesus, why didn’t you tell me sooner? That’s great! What if we win as Oscar or a Grammy or even a Teen choice award? I’m so proud of you,” Jay rants.

I laugh at his reaction to the news.

”Why is Jay smiling like that?” Lonnie asks, coming up to us.

”We get to write music for Lady Gaga,” Jay says proudly.

Lonnie’s jaw drops.

”Congratulations! You deserve it for making such good songs for her album,” Lonnie says, patting Jay’s shoulder.

”Nah, the real mastermind is Adri. Her lyrics and her voice made the songs much more beautiful,” Jay says.

I blush softly and punch his arm shyly.

”Shut up,” I mutter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After Jay’s practice, we follow Lonnie to Coach Jenkin’s office.

”There's my favorite captains!” Coach says.

“Oh shush, we know we’re good,” I say with a smirk.

I first bump Lonnie.

”Speaking of Captains, I got word of your schedule changes,” He says, pointing to me and Jay.

”Even though these changes have been made, I still think you’d be able to advise your teams. Especially you, Jay, since Ben is out of action,” Coach explains.

”Are you promoting me?” Jay asks.

”I’m making you Captain of the Tourney team, Jay,” Coach says.

Jay’s jaw drops.

”No way,” Jay says in shock.

“Looks like things are looking up, JJ,” I say with a smile.

Jay’s mouth morphs into a smirk.

”Damn right,” He says.

Coach gives us a soft smile.

”You guys can celebrate or something, but on Monday, I expect you all to adjust,” Coach says.

”Yeah,” We all agree.

Suddenly, the announcements go off.

”Adri Ababwa, please report to Fairy Godmother’s office,” The announcement says.

”Did you get your skateboard taken again?” Jay asks.

”How many times are you gonna get that thing confiscated?” Lonnie asks, rolling her eyes.

”It’s in my locker, chill. I have no idea,” I say, getting up from my seat.

I walk through the door and walk to the office.

I walk into the headmistress’s office and I see Mal and Ben with Fairy Godmother.

”Long time no see,” I say to Ben and Mal.

”Glad you’re here,” Ben says, hugging me.

”We called you here because Mal has a proposal for you,” Fairy Godmother explains.

“Rogers stepped down from his position,” Mal says.

My smile fades. Steve Rogers? Family friend, Avengers, Steve?

”Steve stepped down from Captain? Why?” I ask.

“He and Tony had a dispute after Voltron in Germany. I’ve tried to keep a temporary position since Uma came into the Isle, but we need more troops. I think you’d be the best for it because of your powers and experience. And plus, you're already trusted on the court,” Mal explains.

”Mal, I’d be honored to. But I have to find a way to fit it into my schedule. The only free time I have is around now,” I say.

”So, then you can clock in at 5 and finish at 8,” Ben says.

”It's an intensive training role. You’d pick up recruits, train them, and go to the dungeons,” Ben says.

”Not bad,” I think.

”Fine, I’ll do it,” I say.

”Thank you so much,” Mal says with a smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I walk into the base of operations and spot a familiar face. Bucky Barnes, Steve’s best friend, and newest Avenger.

”Hey, metal arm,” I joke.

”Thank god you’re here,” Bucky says, spotting me.

He gives me a side hug.

”What the hell is wrong with Steve?” I ask him.

”Steve doesn’t agree with the new laws set by Rhodes and the Marshall. Since Sokovia, they wanna add restrictions on our powers because of the explosion and because of that telekinesis girl,” Bucky says.

”I mean they did destroy the city too,” I mention.

”The reason for Tony’s nightmares,” Bucky recalls.

”He has nightmares?” I ask.

”Yeah, if Loki ever comes back, he’ll have a malfunction,” Bucky says.

”Let’s hope that his arc reactor surgery saves him,” I say.

Bucky laughs, remembering he doesn’t have a heart.

”Anyways, let me show you around. So, this is the center of the base, here we have our tanks, our fake grenades, our armory, and training center,” Bucky explains.

”And the troops?” I ask.

”I think that’s your job to cause the first commotion,” Bucky says, handing me a grenade.

”Watch this, grandpa,” I say, taking the grenade from his hands.

I toss the grenade into a group of guys.

They all huddle near the grenade trying to cover it and push each other away.

”Hey! What the hell are you sons if bitches doing? If you see an enemy grenade, you take cover!” I yell.

”The hell is this bitch?” One of the guys asks.

”Bitch? I’m not anyone’s bitch, and for the record, I’m your new Captain,” I say.

The troops all mutter and scoff at each other.

”Go home, kid! You’re kidding yourself if you think you’re gonna train us,” Another guy says.

”What’re your names?” I ask the guys.

They both look at me like I’m dumb.

”I’m Jack. This is Lio,” Jack says.

”I’m promoting you,” I say.

They both look at each other in shock.

”Both of you are now my Lieutenants. You’re gonna spend the majority of training by my side. Whoever are Lieutenants, you’re demoted. If there’s anything I know about being a soldier, you’d fight any fight or anyone to make it to the top. As I train each of you, you must be following my direct orders only. I will watch you all carefully and see if any of you demonstrate proper soldiers' skills. That will determine if you are my second in command. New recruits will all be promoted in place of older ones. As long as you keep up with your task, you’re safe. Any bullshit, you’re out, understand?” I say.

”Yes ma’am,” The Troops say.

I grab a sword from a barrel and I throw it at Lio.

”Get to work,” I order.

The troops go to their assigned positions and Lio and Jack come towards me.

”Who the hell are y-“ Lío starts.

”Bro, that's Adri Ababwa,” Jack explains.

”The artist?” Lio asks.

“Yeah, I’m a huge fan and I’m so fucking sorry about the way I acted earlier,” Jack apologizes.

”It’s fine, I don’t take shit personally. At least anymore,” I say.

”Bruh, you called her a bitch,” Lio comments.

”Shut up,” Jack mutters.

”Listen, I can already tell you two are friends. So please make this easy for me and shut the fuck up and listen,” I say honestly.

”You know you remind me a lot of Rogers,” Jack says.

”We’re friends,” I say.

”You’re friends with Steve Rogers?” Lio asks.

”Yes, now listen up. We’re gonna do some tactical work. You’re gonna go through the grass here with your rifles, your gonna shoot three birds and bring them to me. Got it?” I order.

”Yes ma’am,” They say.

They then pick up their rifles and crouch through the grass.

They miss every shot when birds pass by. One of them lands on Lio’s head and he coos the bird. I roll my eyes at his action. Then, Jack shoots two birds at once. My eyes widen at his shot. They fall into the grass and he picks them up. Lio shoots a bird and it falls slowly.

”That's one big bird,” Lio comments.

As it falls to the ground I notice it’s not a bird.

“Are fucking stupid? That’s a human, not a bird!” Jack shouts.

I run quickly under the person and they fall in my arms.

”Angel? Jesus, are you okay?” I realize.

The metal winged man winces in pain. I realize his hip is bleeding.

”Lio, what the hell is wrong with you? You shot him in the ribs,” I say.

I place him in the grass and reach for Jack’s medkit. He hands it to me and I open it up. I take a pair of tweezers and some alcohol.

”Sit still,” I advise.

I pry the bullet from his hip slowly and Angel grits his teeth from the pain. The bullet comes out cleanly and I put alcohol on the wound and wrap it up.

”Can you fly?” I ask him.

”Sure,” Angel says.

He uses his wings to fly up straight.

”Now who the fuck mistook me for a hunting duck?” Angel asks.

Jack points to Lio.

”Come on, man,” Lío says exasperatedly to Jack.

”Terrible shot,” Angel comments.

Then he takes the gun from Lio’s hand and shoots a bird. The shot is clean and the bird falls quickly to the grass.

”That's how you shoot,” Angel says, picking up the bird from the grass.

He’s good. And he’s got those wings too.

“Hey, Angel? You got anything to do after school?” I ask him.

”No,” He scoffs.

”Would you be interested in being a troop?” I ask him.

”What?” Lio and Jack ask.

”Well, I’ve got nothing else to do,” Angel says.

I smirk and pat his shoulder.

Later, I give Angel his new uniform and make him another Lieutenant. We continue tactical shooting until sunset.

I then search the premises of the base and look at the other troops. They whisper and smirk as I pass by. Some troops, practice grenade launching, shooting positions, fencing. I think to myself:

”Maybe this is something Jay would be interested in hearing.”

I smirk to myself as I think about how successful Jay has been so far in his time in Auradon. I walk into the training center and spot Bucky talking to a troop.

”Hey, how was your first day?” Bucky asks.

”Could’ve been better, but it means progress,” I say with a soft smile.

”Good to know you’re a hard hitter instead of a soft princess. Kind of like your mom,” Bucky says.

”Don’t mention me and my mom in the same sentence, you 100-year-old soldier. That’s like putting you and Steve in the same sentence about ice,” I say, rolling my eyes.

”Shut the hell up,” Bucky says punching my arm with his regular fist.

”You ever punch me with your vibranium arm, I will kill you,” I warn.

Bucky laughs and leaves me alone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One day at school, Angel and I decided to sit together at lunch. We talk about training and new things I could teach the troops. As we talk about ammunition I spot Jay talking to Ruby Fitzherberg, Rapunzel’s daughter. I see her pressing upon him and twirling her blonde hair. Jay uncomfortably tries to walk away.

”Oh god,” I say, rolling my eyes.

”God what?” Angel asks me.

”Jay is with Ruby,” I say.

”Ruby? The girl who slept with five guys at once? You better scoop your man before she gets him,” Angel advises.

”How do you know that?” I ask.

”What? I’m gay. Of course, I know,” Angel explains.

My eyes widen at his words.

”Huh?” I ask dumbfoundedly.

”I said what I said, I’m gay,” Angel says.

I blink in confusion and stand up from the bench.

I walk over to Jay and Ruby and sling my arm around his shoulder.

“Hey guys,” I say.

”Adri! Nice to see you after you dealt with Angel in the theatre,” Ruby says.

”You were there? I didn’t see you or hear your annoying voice,” I say with a smirk.

”I was just asking Jay whether or not he likes my new hair,” Ruby says flirtatiously towards Jay, ignoring my words.

”Um, it looks the same,” I say.

”That’s what I said,” Jay agrees.

”Come on, I cut it 4 inches!” Ruby says playfully hitting Jay’s arm.

”Excuse me, can you not put your hands on him?” I ask her.

”Why not?” Ruby asks.

”It’s super clear that he’s uncomfortable,” I say.

”No he’s not,” Ruby replies bitterly.

Ruby turns to Jay.

”Adri, can we go?” Jay asks.

”Gladly,” I say through gritted teeth.

I grab Jay’s arm and we walk back to my table.

”Who’s this?” Jay asks, seeing Angel.

”This is Lieutenant Angel, the guy Ruby was talking about,” I say.

”Jay. Jay Farr, I’ve heard quite a bit about you from Adri,” Jay says.

”I’ve heard a lot about you too,” Angel says.

”Anyways, you saw what I saw right?” I ask Angel.

”Um, obviously. Ruby has absolutely no self-control. Hey, I’m gay by the way and if you ever and I mean EVER dump her, you’re either getting a Louboutin heel to the face or a date with me,” Angel says.

I scoff at his remarks.

”What? He’s hot,” Angel compliments.

”Thanks, man but I have plans with this girl so...no thanks,” Jay says, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.

”Like I was saying, Ruby thinks she is all preppy and cool when she’s totally out of line for that shit,” I say to Angel.

”What did she do exactly?” Jay asks, peeking in the conversation.

”She was flirting with you- anyways I try to be sane one...”

”And you’re complaining why?” Jay asks in between my words.

Angel snickers to himself. I glare at Jay.

”You. Are. Mine. End of story,” I say through gritted teeth.

Jay laughs to himself after I speak.

“Jeez, you’re jealous! I didn’t actually think you’d slide into the conversation because of that,” Jay laughs.

”With your tendencies, it was so obvious that you were uncomfortable but when I walked over you played into it! It was so clear,” I say frustratedly.

Jay continues to laugh at my responses. I look over at Angel and rolls his eyes.

”She feels like your toying with her and she doesn’t like it,” Angel blurts out.

Jay stops laughing and his smile drops. He turns to see me.

I play with the underside of my nail, trying not to look at Jay.

”Is that true?” Jay asks.

”I don’t know. Maybe I just feel like at any moment you could be suddenly interested in some other girl who’s better than I am,” I mutter.

Jay puts a hand on my thigh and I turn to face him.

”Baby, why would I make plans with you if I didn’t love you or care about you enough to stay with you?” Jay asks.

I blush lightly and shrug.

”It’s because I think your worth every minute of my life,” Jay says sincerely.

I smile softly and I kiss his cheek.

”That's cute,” Angel says.

”Shut up,” I giggle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A month later,

”Tell me something, boy. Aren’t you tired try to- Fuck what rhymes with that?” I sing, stopping mid-way to think.

”Void?” Stefani suggests.

”Damn it, why is it so hard to write a love song without having the word love in it?” I ask exasperatedly.

”Cause it’s impossible?” Jay suggests.

”It is possible. We’ve just got two weeks to figure it out,” Stefani says, sitting back down in her chair.

Jay puts out his hand for me to pass him the guitar.

”How about we just repeat a couple of lines?” Jay says, receiving the guitar.

“Tell me something, boy, aren’t you tired of trying to fill that void?

or do you need more?” He starts.

”Aint it hard keeping it so hardcore?” Stefani finishes.

”Yes! That’s it,” I say, writing it down.

We’re about to finish the last song of the motion picture and we’re almost done. But the lyrics keep falling apart.

”Maybe Bradley should just come in here and help us,” I suggest.

We call in Stefani’s co-star, Bradley and he sits.

”What’s the dilemma?” He asks.

”We need more ears. So, how about it?” Jay asks.

Jay hands Bradley the guitar.

”Shit, I’ve only been in classes for a month,” Bradley hesitates.

”You can do it,” Stefani says confidently.

youtu.be/MUX4ZWkDS-s

Bradley starts to strum the chords of the song. I hand Stefani our brainstorm journal and they both look at our lyrics.

They sing the parts of the song effortlessly. At one part, Stefani improvises and nails the part.

They finish and Jay and I clap.

”That was movie magic at its finest! Now, let’s record it, mix it, and then off we go,” I say.

We all get up from our seats to start working on our parts.

Jay and I lay down the mixing and Bradley and Stefani record. And just for fun, Stefani plays a piano version and we end up recording that too.

Later that night, we come home absolutely exhausted.

I plop onto my dorm room bed and sigh. I look up at my ceiling and see the moonlight peeking through my curtain. The bed sinks and I turn to see Jay lying there next to me, looking at the curtains.

”Long days at work, huh?” Jay asks me.

”I took off training to do that, so, yes,” I say.

We both paused in silence for a minute.

”Hey,” Jay speaks up.

”Yeah?”

”Do you think we’ll get nominated for anything?” Jay asks.

”Probably,” I say, thinking out loud.

”You know. I’m glad you asked me to start making music with you. It’s like something I can remember about you...like our own special thing, you know?” Jay says.

”Yeah. By the way, Stefani was the one who asked for you. Not me,” I say.

”Really? I didn’t think that would ever happen,” Jay says in surprise.

I chuckle at his reaction. I turn to my side and wrap my arm around his body. He does the same, pulling me closer to his chest by gripping my waist.

”Baby, where do you see us in the next year?” Jay asks.

I furrow my brows in confusion.

”I mean. Do you think we’ll be together after senior year next year?” Jay asks.

”I mean, we’ve had no problems with our career schedules so far. Sure we had the situation with Lonnie but luckily I’m that wasn’t real,” I say.

Jay laughs at my recollection.

”I’m sorry for that,” Jay chuckles.

”I know. Anyways, I actually believe we could be traveling, making songs, doing couples interviews and photoshoots, and maybe I can have you come to Agrabah and convince my parents to help us get married?” I suggest.

”Married? You wanna marry me?” Jay asks.

”I mean, we need a new heir in the bloodline. And I don’t think Aziz wants to settle down or rule the kingdom yet,” I say.

Jay chuckles to himself for a minute. He scoops down and places a kiss on my forehead.

”Why can’t we do that now then?” Jay asks.

My eyes widen at his words. I blink twice adjusting to his reaction.

”You wanna do all that now?” I ask him.

”Why not? If that means I get to spend the rest of my life with your crazy ass? Definitely,” Jay agrees.

A smile morphs on my face and I jump up to get my phone.

I dial my mom’s number.

”Ma, it’s Adri. We’ve gotta make some plans...”

3,858 words

#marvel #marvel x oc #descendants #descendants jay #descendants x oc #descendants novels #fanfiction #multifandom #loki #son of jafar #descendants 2 #descendants 3 #loki x reader #jay x reader

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fanficshiddles · 4 years

Text

Butterfly Into Chains, Chapter 2

‘Well, this is a cute little town.’ Michael commented as they drove into East Meadowridge.

‘Apparently my great, great, great grandfather was from here.’ Chris said, glancing at Michael in the mirror as he drove.

‘Really? But the Alphas here are so puny.’ Ben said, looking at the people walking by.

‘He was one of the last great Alphas to leave here, before it became… Well, what it is now.’

‘Why is Tom wanting us to come here anyway?’ Michael asked.

‘No idea. Maybe he thinks we will find an omega here.’ Ben shrugged.

Michael laughed. ‘Well. It would be fun to corrupt an innocent omegas mind.’ He grinned wickedly.

- ‘Is it Seaview hotel?’ David asked, driving the jaguar on front.

‘Yep, the location is in the name.’ Tom chuckled.

David rolled his eyes and glanced in the mirror, making sure that the others were still behind them.

‘It seems we are already making a bit of an entrance.’ David said, noticing that many locals were staring and pointing at the two flash cars that had entered their town.

‘We certainly are… It looks to be mainly betas here.’ Tom murmured, scanning the crowds of people they passed by.

‘Or the Alphas are just pathetic looking… Which I’ve heard they are in this place.’ David chuckled.

‘Well, let’s see if we can liven the place up a bit.’ Tom grinned at David.

When they pulled up at the hotel, they weren’t too surprised to find that there were a few people hovering around, staring and talking between themselves.

As the Alphas all emerged from the cars, they were looking very smug and amused. They’d only driven through the town and had already caused a ruckus.

The five entered the hotel and Tom went over to reception.

‘I’d like to book the entire top floor, for at least a week. But we may extend our stay.’ Tom said smoothly, pulling out his wallet.

‘I’m sorry, Sir. But we don’t usually book out entire floors.’ The receptionist said, eyes wide at the tall and intimidating Alpha.

Tom raised an eyebrow but smiled sweetly at her, handing over a lot of cash. ‘We will double what you would normally charge for all the rooms up there. I’m sure you can make that happen for us, can’t you?’

The receptionist was like a deer in the headlights, her mouth opened but nothing came out for a moment. She took the cash and then looked up at Tom. ‘I… I’m sure we can sort something.’ She stuttered out.

‘That’s a girl. Thank you.’ Tom winked at her.

After talking to a co-worker, and having to remove a couple already in a room on the top floor, the receptionist was able to give Tom keys to all eight rooms for the floor. She was a bit confused since there were only five of them, but she didn’t question the Alphas.

The pack got into the lift with their bags and headed up to their private floor.

‘Did you see her face? You’d think she had never seen a proper Alpha before.’

‘She probably hasn’t.’ Chris chuckled.

‘It seems we’ve definitely thrown the cat amongst the pigeons.’ Tom smirked.

After getting settled in their rooms, David, Michael and Ben went for a wander along the beach front to find a takeaway for dinner for them all.

As expected, when they left there was a significant number of female betas loitering around outside the hotel. Trying not to look like they were there just to catch a glimpse of the Alphas, even though it was blatantly obvious.

As they walked by a beta sitting on a bench, she went bright red when David just smiled at her.

He shook his head, his smile growing larger. ‘It’s going to be such fun here.’

They experienced the same when they went into the chip shop. There was an Alpha and a female beta serving behind the till. Even the Alpha seemed a bit stunned at being face to face with proper Alphas. The beta was all flustered and struggled to maintain eye contact with any of them.

‘Hey boy, where is the best place for drinks in this town?’ Ben asked the Alpha.

‘The bar next to the Seaview hotel is usually best.’ The Alpha said, whilst looking like he was trying not to shit his pants at being directly asked a question.

‘Thanks.’ Ben nodded to him. ‘What about omegas, are there many here?’

The Alpha’s eyes widened. ‘Uhm… A few… But they’re all paired off with Alphas already.’

Ben raised an eyebrow and nudged Michael, chuckling.

Michael grinned and popped a chip in his mouth. ‘Well, we respect if an omega is already claimed by an Alpha… Providing they’re scented and marked, of course.’

The Alpha swallowed hard. ‘Of… Of course.’

Ben, Michael and David started laughing, they grabbed their food and left. It was clear by the Alphas reaction that most were not scented and marked yet.

‘Let the panic begin.’ David said on the way back to the hotel.

When they returned Tom and Chris were waiting for them in one of the spare rooms they were using as a communal area.

‘I think we are in luck, lads.’ Ben said as he handed everyone their food.

‘Why?’ Chris asked.

‘I don’t think many of the younger omegas will be scented or marked yet. Judging by the look of terror on the Alphas face that works in the chip shop.’

‘Interesting. They must wait until their first heat before claiming them.’ Tom hummed, rubbing his lower lip.

‘I think so.’ Michael nodded, turning the dresser chair around and sitting down.

‘I’d say it’s safe to say that the entire town is shitting itself with our arrival. Though the female betas certainly seem intrigued. I wouldn’t be surprised if the omegas are too, but they’re no doubt locked up to stay safe from the big bad wolves.’ David smirked.

‘Apparently the bar next door is the place to be.’ Said Ben.

‘Sounds good. I could do with a whiskey.’ Tom nodded in agreement.

The five Alphas made sure they were looking dapper, then made their way to the bar next door.

They all shared a look with one another when they opened the door, because they could smell omega inside… She smelled a wonderful mixture of vanilla and lavender.

Esme’s eyes widened a little when all five Alphas looked in her direction as soon as they stepped inside. She quickly averted her eyes, looking back at her friends. She felt like her skin was tingling all over, the hairs on her arms and back of her neck was standing on end as the five Alphas crossed the bar and took a seat at the corner table.

‘They know you’re an omega!’ Dani squealed excitedly and the four girls began to chatter quietly, every now and then glancing over at the Alphas.

‘She’s untouched. Unclaimed.’ Tom growled low, staring at the omega.

‘First omega we’ve come across so far.’ David said.

‘She’s a pretty little thing. Looks in good health, too. Might be just what we are looking for.’ Tom grinned.

Esme couldn’t stop glancing over at the Alphas, every now and then they would be looking right back at her, smiling when they caught her eye.

She went up to the bar to order another round of drinks. When she had her purse out, ready to pay, a tall figure came to stand beside her. His scent made her head a little hazy.

‘Let me buy this round for you lovely ladies.’

Esme felt slightly starstruck, her heart was pounding against her chest and she could’ve sworn that he could hear it.

‘Oh… Th… thanks!’ She said, once she managed to get her brain back into gear and was over the initial surprise.

‘You’re very welcome. My name is Tom.’ After paying the barman he put his hand out to her with a gentle smile.

‘I’m Esme. Pleasure to meet you.’ She smiled sweetly up at him and put her hand into his much larger one.

His touch was warm as he shook her hand, but he kept a tight hold of it and brought it upwards as he leaned down and pressed his lips to the back of it, making her cheeks go bright red as her skin tingled from his touch.

‘The pleasure is all mine, Esme.’ He purred.

The way he said her name almost made her swoon.

‘I… I hope you enjoy your visit here. You’ve picked the right time to come, it’s the perfect time to enjoy the beach.’

Tom’s smile grew even larger at her sweet voice and lovely personality. ‘Why thank you. I’m sure we will enjoy this visit, very much. Perhaps you could show us around sometime.’

‘Sure! Yeah… of course!’ She beamed happily.

He still had a hold of Esme’s hand, and she wasn’t sure what to do. Even Mason hadn’t touched her like that yet. But here was this handsome and incredibly Alpha Alpha, who was making her feel more than she had ever felt in her life.

‘You best let go of her hand.’ A voice suddenly came from behind Esme.

Tom raised an eyebrow, looking over her shoulder. It was an Alpha called Stuart. He was with Mason and another two Alphas. Word about the Alpha pack being in the bar had quickly gotten around town.

‘Oh, I am sorry. Is she claimed by any of you?’ Tom asked smugly, looking between them all. Neither of them answered, Mason just shuffled on his feet and looked down. ‘No? Well then, it is not illegal for an Alpha to simply hold an unclaimed omega’s hand.’ Tom grinned.

The other Alphas didn’t know what to say to that.

Tom turned his attention back to Esme. ‘I’m not hurting you, am I?’ He asked softly, his eyebrows creasing in concern.

‘Not at all!’ Esme said quickly.

‘Good to hear, darling.’ He brought her hand up to his lips again, this time his lips lingered on the back of her hand for a while, then he reluctantly let go. ‘I hope you have a good evening.’ He winked at her and grabbed his own drink, then made his way back to his pack.

Esme snapped out of her dream and grabbed her tray of drinks. She ignored the Alphas next to her, who were talking between themselves and deciding on what to do. As she joined her friends again, who were giggling and talking about her encounter with one of the Alphas, the ones from the town decided to try and take them on.

‘Uh oh.’ Katherine said, nodding her head in their direction.

Esme turned and sighed, knowing it wasn’t going to end well. The Alphas went over to Tom’s pack, trying to act tough and confident, but they were far from it.

‘You all need to leave.’ Stuart said, folding his arms over his chest.

Tom looked between his pack and they all started laughing, then he turned his attention back to Stuart.

‘We have not broken any laws, we are simply having some peaceful drinks in your beautiful town. But if you really have a problem with us and would like to take this outside, then we would be more than happy to oblige.’ Tom said and he stood up, so did his pack.

Stuart gulped as he looked at the tall, strong Alphas.

‘Uhm…’

‘Leave them alone, Stuart!’ Esme called across the bar, getting everyone’s attention. ‘They’re visitors in our town, you could show them a little respect. It’s not like they’re doing any harm.’ She hissed at him.

Stuart turned back to Tom. Tom shrugged. ‘Up to you, Stuart. But the young lady is right. We aren’t here looking for a fight.’ He said calmly.

Stuart looked at all five of the Alphas and nodded, then started backing away. Not saying anything else.

Tom and his pack sat down again. He looked over at Esme and nodded in her direction, raising his glass to her. She smiled and blushed as she sat down and tried to focus on her friends again.

‘The girl by the bar, she’s an omega too. Seems we now have a choice.’ Ben said to Tom, nodding his head in the direction of the girl who had not long entered.

Tom glanced over to said omega, but he shook his head and looked back towards Esme.

‘No. We’ve already found our omega.’ He said darkly, sipping his drink with his eyes locked on Esme.

#Tom Hiddleston #Michael Fassbender #Chris Evans #Benedict Cumberbatch #David Tennant #fan fiction #butterfly into chains

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thesevenumbrellas · 4 years

Note

Following on from your statement you'd kill a Hargreeves each season and Five would get the chop in S2 saving his siblings and sacrificing himself; if you were the writer, who would have died in S1? Or would you count Ben's death as sufficent?

Oooh this is tough. Tbf I feel like Ben’s death would’ve been sufficient just because I wouldn’t want to cut into that storyline of Klaus figuring out his powers with Ben.

But if I had to choose, I think I’d choose Allison. Although I absolutely loved her storyline in season 2, I think she’d work best.

She could’ve died from her throat injury, resulting in bigger reactions from the brothers against Vanya. The voice of reason from their group would’ve been gone. It also makes sense for Luther to not want to help in season 2 if he lost Allison in season 1.

Klaus maybe uses her powers to his benefit in season 2, not with the cult but with getting out of trouble. Such as rumoring the lady who took him in, etc.... she takes over Ben’s storyline of “I’m not helping you any more” but she does it because she genuinely doesn’t believe her powers should be used.

Her arc for reason 2 would’ve been choosing when to use her powers on her terms but also grieving the loss of her daughter.

In season 3 Klaus will search for her daughter for her when they bond over loss. Klaus would do anything to see Dave again to he sympathizes, which also works with his arc of trying to be better.

#tua asks #klaus hargreeves #allison hargreeves #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #tua #tua spoilers #tua s2 spoilers

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carewyncromwell · 4 years

Text

((Previously on “Quest for the Quidditch Cup”...))

[After leaving the Hospital Wing, Carewyn practiced for almost five hours straight, even going so far as to skip both Potions and History of Magic. She normally would never put something like Quidditch over her studies, but after talking it over with Snape, he conceded that two days wasn’t much time for her to practice with the Slytherin team before the match. So he agreed to let her make up her Potions assignment for the day the following week, but only if she won them the Quidditch Cup -- otherwise he’d fail her outright. (In Binn’s case, Carewyn doubted he’d even notice she was missing, to begin with.)

The only times Carewyn took a real break was at lunch and dinner time -- and so it was before lunch that Carewyn ran into Rita Skeeter again.]

[Carewyn raised her eyebrows.]

So much for her readers wanting to know everything about “the newest addition to the Parkin Quidditch dynasty”...

“Even if Skye’s not playing in the match, there’s still a lot to write about. She's about to join the Wigtown Wanderers, after all -- and she and the others have worked really hard in all of their matches up until this point.”

[Rita as always was overdramatic in her reaction, sighing loudly and gloomily.]

Rita: “But my readers need a story, Carewyn! They need action, excitement! There’s not much of that stuck in the Hogwarts Hospital Wing...”

[Carewyn sighed begrudgingly. She did not have time for this...]

“All right...if you don’t want to ask me about Skye, what do you want to talk about?”

[Carewyn was taken aback.]

“With me?”

Rita: “Naturally! After all, you’re the fresh-faced upstart Chaser, stepping in at the last minute to play for the Quidditch Cup! Since Skye’s story has...lost its luster, I’ve decided my article will focus on two members of your team -- ”

Rita: “Cursebreaker! Chaser! Slytherin’s one and only hope to fill the shoes of their star player and win them the Quidditch Cup for the first time in ten years!”

[Carewyn in that moment could not think of anything she’d want less in the world. She already got more than enough attention for being a Cursebreaker when she didn’t want it -- she certainly didn’t want attention for being a Chaser when she did it more for Orion and the team than for herself.

As much as she just wanted to flatly say “no” and walk away without saying anything else, Carewyn was a lady -- and so although she spoke very firmly, she tried to keep her voice level.]

“...I’m sorry, but I’ll have to pass. I’m still only a substitute player on the Slytherin team -- I haven’t earned the press Skye has -- ”

Rita: “(persistently) Who says? You’re the one who’s agreed to take on these insurmountable odds -- only two days to fill the shoes of a champion Quidditch player and become part of a team you’ve never played with in time for the most important game of the season, all for the sake of house loyalty and friendship? Why, you’re a hero to these people, Carewyn!”

[The reporter’s flattery was of little solace. If anything, it made Carewyn’s blue eyes narrow further.]

"I didn’t do any of this for praise. I did it because the Slytherin team needs a third Chaser -- because Orion, Skye, Cara, Night, and the others have worked really hard to get to this point, and I want them to win the Cup they deserve. This is their story. I would say they’re the ones who deserve an interview.”

[Rita cocked her eyebrows, looking visibly abashed.]

Rita: “...Well! You really are a paragon of virtue, aren’t you?”

“(dryly) I try to be.”

I’m not that great, but...

[The memory of Chiara holding her head in both hands and staring hard into her eyes ran over her mind.

“One day, you’ll see what I see, Carewyn -- even if no one else does, I will love you until you can love yourself.”]

...Even if I’m not...my attempts still mean something, to the ones I care about.

[Carewyn turned as if to go.]

“I’m really sorry to cut this short, but I have to get some lunch in before I get back to practice. Please excuse me -- ”

[But Rita cut her off before she could walk away, her lips curling up in a rather crafty smile.]

Rita: “Just a moment. I believe there’s something you might want to know, about what happened between Skye and Erika Rath.”

[Carewyn hesitated.]

“What do you mean?”

[Rita looked very pleased that she’d gotten Carewyn’s attention.]

Rita: “I told you I’d find out what happened eventually. I’d be happy to tell you what I know...just answer one question for me first -- off the record.”

[Carewyn’s eyes narrowed, critically examining Rita’s face.

She didn’t trust this woman as far as she could throw her...but at the same time, she knew any information about what had happened could be useful. If Rath had really done it on purpose, then that would prevent her from playing and rob Ravenclaw of their advantage. If she hadn’t...well, that was still important to know. Maybe it’d help Rath and Skye finally bury the hatchet, like Skye had originally intended...]

“(lowly) ...What is your question?”

[Carewyn stiffened. She knew she hadn’t told Rita she believed Rath didn’t do it -- would Orion or McNully really have discussed that with her? Carewyn couldn’t believe that...but it’s not like Rita could be a Legilimens too, Carewyn would’ve sensed her trying to break into her mind...

Her eyes narrowed a bit more coldly on Rita’s face. She took her time before answering.]

“...Skye sometimes jumps to conclusions. Rath and Skye have been Quidditch rivals for years, and Ravenclaw has won the Quidditch Cup five years in a row. It’s unsurprising there’d be some tension.”

[Rita raised an eyebrow, her hot pink lips curling up in a smirk.]

Rita: “So she’s impulsive. And through a series of mysterious events, she ended up in the Hospital Wing...and now she blames Rath for her injury!”

[This was exactly what Carewyn had been afraid of, from the start. Rita wasn’t interested in the truth -- she was just interested in stirring up trouble! Carewyn couldn’t stop her temper from flaring.]

[Carewyn, however, was done dealing with Rita. Keeping a rein on her temper as best as she was able, she shut the reporter down with the coldest, most controlled righteous fury she could.]

“Ms. Skeeter, you said you’d tell me what you knew about what happened after I answered ‘one question.’ I’ve answered that question. Now I’d like you to keep your word.”

[Rita considered Carewyn beadily for a moment. Then she gave a light “hm!” through her nose.]

Rita: “Very well. I’ve done a little digging myself, and while I don’t know if Rath injured Skye on purpose...”

((OOC: Two Slytherin players Carewyn referenced are Chaser Cara O’Donnell @unfortunate-arrow and Beater Night Rhea @nightrhea-hphm. <3 Still looking for a Slytherin Keeper and Beater’s names, if any of your Slytherin MC’s play Quidditch! xoxo

Chiara is one of two love interest options I’ve considered for Carewyn post-Hogwarts (the other being Diego). Up to you whether that “love” she feels for Carewyn is platonic or not -- Carewyn herself loves her friends with all of her heart (such as her BFF Bill, her unofficial twin Charlie, or even others like Talbott and Ben), so it truly could be read either way. XD))

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #roleplaying #gameplay #quest for the quidditch cup #carewyn cromwell #rita skeeter #skye parkin #erika rath #cara o'donnell #night rhea #orion amari #chiara lobosca

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lilacyennefer · 4 years

Text

Finally, Beautiful Stranger Chapter 9

A/N: Here's some light smut and lots of fluff for you including Benny. I hope you guys like it!

TW: light smut, mention of character death

The first thing you feel when you wake up is the warmth of the sun as its rays break through the curtains, the second thing is fingers so lightly skimming across the skin of your back, so lightly that they feel like feathers. You don’t move, don’t give any signal that you’re awake, you just lay there enjoying the feeling of the sun on your skin, and the touch of your fiancé. Fiancé. You can’t help but smile from the thought, Will definitely felt you smiling against his naked chest, because he places a soft kiss on your forehead, whispering a ‘Good morning, my love.’ against your hair. You move your head a bit, placing an equally gentle kiss on his chest and mutter a ‘good morning.’. You don’t know how long you lay there in silence, just enjoying each other’s company when you hear something fall in the kitchen.

“What the fuck was that?” you ask scared meanwhile Will is completely relaxed.

“Benny.” he says calmly and you look at him confused until you remember that he stayed here last night.

“Oh.” is all you can say and you feel Will move from next to you.

“I’m gonna go and check what he’s doing before he burns down the house.” he says while putting a grey sweatpants on, and nothing else. You bite your bottom lip as you watch him, his toned abs, and that little line of hair what leads you down to, well, one of your favourite parts of him.

“Do you enjoy the view?” he asks you with a smirk.

“Why don’t you come here so I can show you how much I do?” you ask cheekily, and Will walks to your side of the bed, he leans down and cups your chin in his hand.

“As much as I’d love to, I need to make sure my brother doesn’t burn our house to the ground.” he says and places a hot kiss on your mouth.

“I’m sure he’s doing fine.” you mutter against his lips, but Will stands up and is about to leave when you grab his arm, pulling him back. You sit on the edge of the bed, legs hanging down and you pull Will incredibly close to you to stand between your legs. You watch him with a smirk, he doesn’t say anything, but he has a playful expression on his face. You keep the eye contact with him as you lick your lips, leaning forward to kiss his stomach everywhere where you can reach while your hand moves and grabs his hardening bulge.

“I fucking love when you wear this sweatpants and nothing else.” you murmur against his skin and you hear Will chuckle.

“I’ve noticed.” he replies and puts one of his hands behind your head, slipping his fingers into your hair. Your lips go lower on him, licking his skin and you feel him shudder against your lips and hand as you keep working on him until he’s rock hard against your hand. You pull down his pants, freeing his throbbing erection. You’re about to take him in your mouth when you smell something weird.

“Is that smoke what I smell?” you ask Will and he takes a deep breath then lets out a ‘fucking hell, Benny’ before he quickly puts his pants back on and runs downstairs. You can’t help but laugh at the situation, how you were joking about Benny burning down the house with god knows what he’s doing in the kitchen, and now something really is burning, but also you feel frustrated about how he cockblocked you and Will. You get out of the bed and throw an oversized shirt and go downstairs to see what the Miller boys are up to.

“I didn’t mean to burn that shit, it was meant to be a surprise.” you hear Benny saying when you reach the kitchen.

“What surprise?” you ask when you step into the kitchen. Ben looks upset, annoyed and disappointed at the same time, and Will gives him a ‘you tell her’ look, and the younger Miller brother lets out a loud sigh.

“I wanted to surprise you with breakfast for being so nice to me, but I burned it.” he says sadly. His expression makes your heart ache, and you quickly walk up to him, inviting him for a hug.

“You’re the sweetest.” you say and kiss his cheek “I really appreciate the effort, I really do.”

“Yeah? And who’s gonna clean that?” Will asks angrily and points towards the burned food what probably were eggs before.

You shrug and say “Let’s just leave it, I’m gonna make some breakfast and we will deal with that later.” Will’s expression doesn’t change, you can still see that he’s angry, but you’re not sure if it’s because of the burned food or because Ben interrupted the two of you. You give him a look, trying to silently tell him to leave Benny alone, he just lost a long time friend and he tried his best to say ‘thank you’ for the two of you. You always thought that Ben is always more sensitive than Will, sure, Will is also sensitive and emotional, but somehow Benny always seemed to carry his emotions on the surface, you always knew how he feels just by looking at him, but with Will you didn’t since he was hiding his emotions most of the time.

“Can I at least help you?” Ben asks, wishing to make up for the ruined breakfast.

“Sure, if you really want to.” you smile at him. Before you start breakfast you walk up to Will and wrap your arms around his waist, kissing him softly on the lips, trying to make that frown on his face go away. You whisper an ‘I love you’ against his mouth and he just ‘hhmm’s in reply. Angry, upset Will was hard to deal with, but he was still your Will and loved him regardless. You started putting the ingredients on the kitchen island to make your favorite vegan pancake for breakfast.

“Don’t you need eggs or something like that?” Ben asks you confused and you let out a small laugh.

“No, it’s a vegan pancake, Ben.” at the word ‘vegan’ Ben’s face automatically frowns before he could hide it and you let another laugh out.

“It’s good, I promise.” you say and you see that Ben is not convinced yet.

“I shouldn’t have burned those eggs.” you hear him mutter playfully and take some bananas and a mixing bowl and shove it in front of Benny.

“Just shut up and mash those bananas.” you say and hear Ben say ‘woah’ loudly. You look at him in shock and you see Ben looking at your finger, and the beautiful ring on it.

“What’s that?” he asks curiously and you look at Will who was reading today’s morning news paper and now he’s looking at the two of you.

“You mean, this?” you ask and raise your hand, showing him your engagement ring. He grabs your hand and checks the ring, he looks at you then at Will.

“When did this happen?” he asks and you shrug.

“Last night.” you answer and nervously wait for his reaction.

“And when did you guys wanted to tell me this?” Ben asks.

“Today. We just didn’t have the chance.” Will says and Ben nods then he wraps his strong arms around you, pulling you into a hug.

“I’m so happy for you guys!” he says loudly and he lets you go, walking up to Will and hugs him too. It seems like Will’s grumpiness went away a little bit as he hugs his younger brother back. You watch the scene in front of you with a smile, and you enjoy your morning with your fiancé and soon.to-be brother-in-law.

Benny eventually went home saying he doesn’t need a babysitter, but he appreciates the help, but it seems like Will’s mood didn’t improve after Ben left.

“Alright Mister, what twisted your panties this morning?” you ask him after sitting down on the couch next to him. He closes the book what he was reading and he turns his head to look at you.

“Do you really have to ask?” he asks in a low, sad voice. You don’t know what he means first, you think it has to do with Benny, but Will loves his brother a lot and he wouldn’t be this upset because of him. Then you remember Tom.

“Will, I’m so sorry.” you say sincerely. You’ve been so wrapped up in your own happiness that you forgot about that he lost a friend.

“Is there anything I can do to help you?” Will shakes his head and looks down to his lap.

“I just…” you see him struggle “I just want to be alone right now.” he looks at you unsure, watching your reaction. You softly smile at him and you nod.

“Of course. But if you need anything, I’m here. I’m always here if you want to talk.” you say and Will takes your hand in his and raises it to his mouth, placing a kiss on the back of your hand.

“You have no idea how grateful I am for you.” he whispers and you cup his bearded chin in your hand.

“Believe me, I know.” you assure him and get up from the couch to leave him alone.

Tag list: @innerpaperexpertcloud @lady-evans (message me if you want to get tagged)

#charlie hunnam #Will Miller #Will Miller fanfiction #Will Miller x reader #William Miller

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ren1327 · 4 years

Text

Sweater Weather ch.3

Emerald Isle was covered in moss and rocks where they docked, the rocks and sand giving way to grassy hills and a dense forest of pine trees and shrubs where the side of a large house peeked out from behind them.

Owen took their bags after he had tied off the boat, Kenji leading Ben up some wooden stairs and on a brick path through the trees.

“Wow.” Ben said. “It smells amazing out here.”

“Smells amazing?” Kenji asked, glancing at Ben.

“Well, I…I haven’t been around real pine. It’s either been a candle or something already dying slowly for the sake of a holiday.” Ben said, shrugging at the end.

“Oh…I never thought of it like that…not a lot of traditional pine trees in Cali.” Kenji said. “You probably haven’t even seen snow.”

“No. And the funny thing is, my parents are, well, were, Seattle natives. I’ve lived in Texas and California my whole life. I’ve always wanted to come here. We planned to when my mom got better but…”

Ben’s smile fell and he looked at the trees in pain, closing his eyes for a moment. Kenji looked around to see Owen making his way up the path towards them. He grabbed Ben’s hand and led him along.

“Uh…M-My Dad likes the trees and we even have an orchard in the back. I think we have apples, peaches, almonds and a pomegranate tree in the green house.” Kenji said. “In summer, I bring back so much fruit from here.”

“That actually sounds great.” Ben said with a smile. “Smoothies galore.”

“Mom loves her trees and uses them for teas and jams, so…indulge her for me?” He asked. “She hasn’t really…nailed the flavor…”

Ben chuckled and hugged his arm as Owen got closer.

“Got it, Honey.” Ben said and Kenji nearly tripped.

“On your left, Lovebirds!” Owen called and walked past them with their bags.

“W-What?” Kenji asked once Owen was out of earshot. “Why did you…what was that?”

“A pet name?” Ben asked, raising a brow. “What would you call me?”

“Ben…ny?”

“No. Something else.” Ben said quickly.

“Babe?”

“That’ll do.” He said.

They continued to walk up the path, then stopped, Kenji noticing Ben staring at the house as they came up to it.

It looked like a Californian lake house; wooden with large glass windows and a balcony with a sturdy awning, a fire pit on the second floor awning, wooden steps leading down to another area where there was sand going into the dark blue water, a huge porch and yard and so many trees around it, as if hidden.

“Is that a lighthouse?!” Ben yelled when he looked up the hill.

“Yeah. Just in case.” Kenji said and Ben looked up at the regal looking stone structure.

“C…Can we go up it?”

“Yeah, sure. We can explore tomorrow though. Parents and sister.” He reminded Ben, who nodded, but let his eyes linger on the lighthouse a few seconds longer.

Kenji led Ben to the porch and knocked on the door despite Owen walking in a few seconds earlier.

A short, plump Mexican woman opened the door and cried out excitedly, scooping Kenji into her arms and despite being a full foot shorter than him, lifted him up and spun around.

“Mom!” He squawked and blushed. “Not in front of Ben!”

She dropped Kenji, who staggered before standing straight. He cleared his throat.

“Mom. This is Ben. Ben, this is my mother, Candela Kon.”

“Oh, baby, you can call me Candy!” She said and hugged Ben in her soft warm arms, Ben getting a whiff of cocoa butter and vanilla.

Candy, indeed.

She had the same golden skin and dark hair Kenji had. But hers was curly and in lose spirals that was tied back into a high ponytail with a white velvet scrunchy. She wore a thick red tunic over brown yoga pants and furred boot slippers. She had on tinted lip balm Ben often used on interviews and…

“It’s great to finally meet you!” Ben said, smiling brightly when she put him down.

“Oh? Has Kenji told you anything about me?”

“He may have mentioned gardening and teas.” Ben said. “Of which I am eager to see and taste.”

Candy giggled and elbowed Kenji. “You got yourself a keeper, Mijo.”

Kenji let out a huff but smiled regardless.

“Your Father is on a call right now, but I know someone in the sunroom who would be sooooo excited to see you!”

Kenji grinned and sped past her.

“Son?” She called.

“Yeah?”

“Your boyfriend?” She asked.

Kenji sped back and took Ben’s hand. “Right, sorry Babe.”

“It’s Carmen, I get it.” Ben said dismissively, noting how Candy beamed at Ben’s reaction.

“Aw, you’re still a doting brother!” Candy teased.

“I think it’s cute.” Ben said and Kenji smiled at him.

“Ready to meet the most important lady in my life excluding my mother?”

“Good save.” Ben teased and Kenji chuckled, leading him past a large sitting area with a plush red sofa set and armchairs around a curved tv and sound system mounted on the wall and a fireplace to the left, burning away fragrant wood.

They walked down a wide hallway, the walls decorated with family pictures and photos of the ocean and various sights around the island and Seattle itself.

“You guys really like Seattle.” Ben said.

“It might be a little farther, but Dad has an office building there and a condo where Mom and Carmen chill during summer weekends. We used to live in Cali, but after I left, I guess they relocated to Washington for good. Especially after the bullying…”

“It’s amazing. What parents will do for their children.” Ben said softly.

Kenji paused outside a door and closed his eyes before sighing. “Yeah. It is.”

He opened a white door with a large glass panel with a soft gauzy white curtain with reflective green sequins stitched in them in patterns that looked like ivy or vines on the inside. The walls of the room were a light minty green with metal work on the walls of sunflowers, daisies and chrysanthemums. Two walls had large windows that opened inwards to let in the cold air, another fireplace sheltered from the breeze and with a low back black cushioned wide bench with thick legs looked to be made from bleached driftwood before it. Most of the furniture looked to be made from sturdy carved driftwood, pale gray cushions and blankets on it, along with a basket piled high with furry or fleece throws and a few bookshelf cabinets with thick glass sheltering the treasures inside.

But before the fireplace on the wide bedlike bench, with green led light cat eared headphones over her head and staring at her switch as she played what Ben noticed was Stardew Valley, was Kenji’s treasure.

She was also plump and short like her mother, with her big brown lashed eyes and full lips. Her skin was very pale and her waist length black hair pin straight. Her hair was dyed green about five inches from her scalp and in two high pigtails. And her lips were chapped from how she was biting them.

She wore blue jean capris despite the cold weather, a black t-shirt and red and pink socks with a pink cartoon lion and a thick looking sword on them. She laid on her stomach and Ben saw her phone was on a podcast; episode 68 of King Falls Am, so she couldn’t hear Kenji go behind her.

Kenji poked the small of her back, causing her to scream and pull her switch to her chest, kicking out as she rolled over.

“If I die in the mines, I’m so gonna…Ji?” She looked down at her game to pause it and place on the back of the bench as she jumped up and ran around to hug her older brother.

“You did come!” She squealed.

“I did!” Kenji yelled back happily. “I missed you so much!”

“Dad said you would be coming, and I was so excited because I thought you were still in India. How was it? Did you eat a lot of spicy food? Did you pet an elephant?”

“Uh, I kinda just bummed around a camp, kiddo.” Kenji said. “I was…I wasn’t in a really good headspace…”

“Oh. I get it.” She said softly and rubbed her arm, then noticed Ben.

“Hi, Carmen.” Ben said nervously.

“Hi?” She asked.

“Oh, Carmen, this is Ben. He’s my…my boyfriend.” Kenji said.

Carmen looked from Ben to Kenji and back.

“Oh, no, he’s way too good looking for you.” She said, shaking her head.

“Hey!” Kenji yelled.

Ben watched them bicker for a bit and smiled as Kenji pulled his sister close and started giving the smaller Kon sibling a noogie. He reached into his book bag and quickly plucked a receipt out of a bag, holding it out to them.

“Kenji?” He called and they both paused, Kenji grinning when he saw the black bag.

“We found something you might like.” Kenji said and took the bag, giving it to Carmen.

She reached in and pulled out a small Miles Morales plush gasping and hugging it to her chest.

“Oh, my gosh! I love him! How did you know?”

“It was mostly Ben.” Kenji said. “He made me watch the movie and I saw your snapchat posts and we saw it, so…”

She hugged Kenji, then Ben. “Thank you guys so much! I’ve asked Owen to keep an eye out and I’d pay him back, but he never understands what I mean!”

She smiled and hugged the plush again.

“Kenji, get in here!” She said, picking up her phone to take a picture with him. “Ben, you too!”

Ben awkwardly stood next to Kenji, who threw an arm around his waist as Carmen held up the plush and snapped a picture, Ben happy he smiled at the last second, not looking too awkward.

“Um…can I post that Ben’s your boyfriend?” Carmen asked, lowering her phone to look at her brother. “She…She kinda follows me still.”

“Yeah.” Kenji said. “Go ahead.”

“Ben?” She looked at him.

“I’m out and good. Go ahead.” He said, waving his hand.

“Okay. Annnnnd…post!” She said and smiled at the picture. Her smile fell and she touched under her chin.

“Carmen?” Ben asked.

“Oh!” She blinked and smiled. “So um…was the flight alright?”

“Yeah. Hey…” Kenji hugged her. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I am. I promise. I start my new school after break so, that’s fun.” She said.

“New schools are fun.” Ben said. “I had to start a new school too.”

“Oh. Why?” Carmen asked.

“…I was bullied. Really bad. Like, I could’ve died from an asthma attack bad.”

“What?” Carmen squawked.

“I was left outside overnight with my hands tied. I couldn’t get to my inhaler while I was panicking.” Ben said, looking at the floor. “No one really knew I had asthma. Inhalers cost like…six hundred dollars. And my bullies…I was scared they would take it or use it as ammunition.”

Carmen hugged Ben tight.

“You’re okay, right?” She asked, voice wobbly. “Like…now?”

“Yeah. My mom moved us to San Antonio where I met the coolest people and even moved to California with them. They’re going to move back again, so…I guess I’ll just find my own way from there.”

“You could move in with Kenji!” She said. “Since you’re boyfriends and all!”

“Uh, I think he wants to go back to Texas though, kiddo. That’s where he wants to set up shop.” Kenji said awkwardly.

“Long distance sucks!” Carmen huffed. “And besides! You can move into our old neighborhood when I was a baby!”

She turned to Ben. “We moved to Cali when I was like, six. And now…”

“Washington is really pretty.” Ben said with a tilt of his head.

“And I get to have so many cute raincoats and boots!” She said excitedly.

“Carmen hates the sun.” Kenji said.

“If you live in Texas, we can visit you as much as we want with Daddy’s plane!” She said. “And then you guys can come see us when summer gets too unbearable.”

Ben smiled.

“Any excuse to see you, Carmen.” He said. “You’re really cool for a high schooler.”

She blushed and smiled. “Thanks. I um…thanks.”

There was a knock on the doorframe and Ben felt his face heat when he saw the man.

“Hello.” He said, looking at Ben. “We have yet to meet. I am Kenji’s father, Kosei.”

He held out a hand and when Ben shook it, in engulfed his own smaller one in a warm, strong grip.

The man looked just like Kenji, save lighter hair with streaks of gray and a close trimmed beard. Ben would say he looked like a neater version of his favorite Overwatch character.

“Ben Pincus.” He said softly.

Kosei made a puzzled face. “Pincus? I feel like I know that name.”

Ben shrugged a bit, noting how the man had released his hand.

“Welcome to our home, Ben.” He said and smiled warmly, Ben blushing harder.

Kenji blinked. And paled when he saw how pink Ben’s blush was.

‘…left overnight with my hands tied…’

He remembered something he had long buried away.

“Fuck.” He said out loud.

#jw sweater weather #jw fanfic #jw benji #benji #kenji x ben #kenji and ben #kenji kon #ben pincus #camp cretaceous fanfic #camp cretaceous sweater weather

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calumcest · 4 years

Text

you and i were fireworks that went off too soon - chapter one

[ao3]

The tattoos appear one Wednesday night.

“What’s yours?” Michael demands, sounding beside himself with excitement. Luke frowns.

“What’s my what?”

“Your tattoo.”

another soulmate au...but this time its ANGSTY (but dont worry it will end happy because i am me)

The tattoos appear one Wednesday night.

Almost everyone wakes up for a few minutes at around three-thirty a.m., feeling a strange burning sensation in some square inch of their body. Almost everyone rubs sleepily at the patch of skin - wrist, bicep, shoulder, hip - rolls over, and goes back to sleep.

Some people, of course, are already awake when it happens, and some people wake up and don’t go back to sleep. Those are the ones who start shooting off confused questions on social media, comparing tattoos, trying to figure out what they mean. A few people start theorising - mine reminds me of my wife, they say, or, mine reminds me of my first love, and by the time the rest of Australia wakes up, the theories have ballooned from maybe they’re to do with someone you need to reconnect with to this is a clear sign from the government that they’ve placed chips in our minds and know what we’re thinking about.

Australia is the first major country to get them. As Tuesday rolls into Wednesday across the globe, more and more people’s thighs, forearms and ankles start to burn, until, by the time it gets to LA, people are buzzing with anticipation, almost the entire country awake at three-thirty in the morning, waiting for their tattoos.

Luke doesn’t notice his immediately. He sleeps like the fucking dead, so he hadn’t even woken up in the middle of the night like most people, and he wakes up late for work so doesn’t have time to check his phone for the fifty billion messages he’s received overnight until he’s made it onto the train, panting as he flops into an empty seat opposite an elderly lady. She gives him a warm smile, which Luke thinks is a little strange, but he returns it slightly tentatively, pulling his phone out to avoid any further eye contact.

His phone lights up before he even touches it, and Luke frowns as he sees new messages appearing every few minutes. On top of the messages, he’s got seventeen missed calls from Michael, twenty-five from his mum, three from his dad, and even some from Jack and Ben.

He unlocks his phone and heads for the messages app, barely managing to open the group chat with Michael and Calum before his phone is lighting up with Michael ringing him again.

“What?” he hisses, as quietly as he can, throwing an apologetic look at the lady opposite him. “I’m on the train.”

“What’s yours?” Michael demands, sounding beside himself with excitement. Luke frowns.

“What’s my what?”

“Your tattoo.” Luke blinks.

“Are you alright, Mike?” he says. “You know I don’t have any tattoos.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Michael says, now sounding incredulous over the staticky phone line. “Have you not, like, looked at your phone? Seen the news? Spoken to a single person?”

“I woke up late,” Luke says, a little defensively, even though he doesn’t really think he needs to defend not looking at his phone for an hour while he showered, dressed, made breakfast, sprinted to the station.

“Jesus Christ,” Michael says, and Luke can just imagine him pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Trust you to sleep through something like this.”

“Through what?”

“Everyone got a tattoo last night,” Michael says. Luke hesitates for a moment, and then rolls his eyes.

“Mike, I’m not that gullible,” he says. “I think even I’d wake up if a tattoo artist broke into my house overnight.”

“I’m not joking,” Michael says impatiently.

“Where are they, then?” Luke says, slightly amused.

“Mine’s on my elbow,” Michael says. “But everyone has them in different places.”

“Right,” Luke says. “That’s convenient. Is this just a ploy to try and get me to strip naked on public transport and embarrass myself?”

“Why do you never believe anything I say?” Michael says indignantly.

“You’ve never given me much reason to,” Luke says. There’s a beat, and then-

“Yeah, that’s fair enough,” Michael says.

“What’s yours, then?” Luke asks, because he might as well humour Michael.

“It’s, uh,” Michael says, cagily. There’s a moment’s pause, and when it becomes obvious Luke’s waiting for an answer, he says quietly: “Duke?”

“Duke?” Luke says, because he cannot have heard that properly. “Like, Calum’s dog Duke?”

“Yeah,” Michael says, sounding a little nervous. Luke rolls his eyes. Obviously Michael’s just picked the first fucking thing that came to mind.

“Right,” Luke says. “Not really doing yourself any favours on convincing me this isn’t just a massive joke, Mike.” Michael makes a small noise somewhere between outrage and embarrassment.

“Check the fucking news, then, arsehole,” he says, and then there’s a beep and he’s hung up. Luke removes the phone from his ear, screen back on the group chat where Calum’s still sending messages, and clicks out and onto his news app.

He’s immediately confronted with approximately thirty-seven articles about tattoos. Blurry pictures of people’s tattoos, clips of news anchors showing their tattoos to the camera, interviews with people who claim they know what the tattoos mean, interviews with medical officials who are telling people to stay calm, the tattoos don’t appear to be dangerous. Luke’s first reaction is to bring down his notification bar and check the date - okay, May the seventh, so this isn’t an April Fool’s. It might be a late April Fool’s, though, he thinks.

“He’s not lying to you,” someone says suddenly, and Luke’s head jolts up to see the old lady opposite him smiling at him benignly.

“Uh, sorry,” he says, “what d’you mean?”

“Your friend,” she says, “Mike? He’s not lying. Everybody got a tattoo last night.” She rolls her sleeve up to expose a frail, wrinkled arm, and right there, in the middle of her forearm, is a tattoo of a policeman’s hat.

“That was my late husband’s identification number,” she says, pointing to the number underneath the hat.

“Oh,” Luke says, because he has absolutely no idea what the appropriate response to everybody got a tattoo last night, by the way, here’s mine of my late husband’s police hat and identification number is. The lady smiles at him again, and rolls her sleeve back down.

“You should look for yours,” she says knowingly, like she understands this whole tattoo situation. Luke opens his mouth, although he’s not really sure what he’s about to say - thank you? Piss off? What sort of a fucking alternate universe am I living in? - but then the train doors open and he looks outside and realises this is his stop.

“This is my stop,” he says, thankful that this incredibly uncomfortable conversation is over. “Have a nice day?” He’s not really sure why he phrases it as a question, but he doesn’t have time to think about it, grabbing his bag and coat and just about making it off the train without getting decapitated by the closing doors.

What a weird fucking start to the day, he thinks, as he starts towards the ticket barriers, but upon realising he’s left his season ticket at home all thoughts of a tattoo leave his mind.

-------

The first person Luke sees when he gets into the office is Calum. He’s wearing a scarf indoors, which strikes Luke as a little strange, but he doesn’t have time to ask because as soon as Luke walks into the room, Calum rounds on him.

“Why the fuck haven’t you been answering your phone?” he demands immediately.

“Jesus Christ,” Luke groans as he throws himself into his chair. “Not you too.”

“What?”

“Mike rang me trying to convince me to get naked on the train because apparently someone tattooed me in my sleep last night,” Luke says, powering up his desktop. Calum gapes at him.

“Are you telling me you haven’t seen yours yet?” he asks in disbelief.

“What? Cal, are you fucking serious?” Luke says, annoyed. He might be gullible, but he’s not that gullible. “I’m not falling for this shit.”

“Have you checked the news?”

“Yeah,” Luke says, swivelling in his chair to face Calum as he waits for his computer to turn on. “It’s got to be some kind of joke. A late April Fool’s, I dunno.” Calum stares at him as though he’s just said the sky is green, or All Time Low are a bad band, or something.

“Are you insane?” he asks incredulously.

“Alright, show me your fucking tattoo, then,” Luke says sarcastically. Calum hesitates.

“I don’t want to,” he says shiftily, after a moment.

“Right,” Luke says smugly. “See?”

“See what?”

“Mike came up with some bullshit too,” Luke says. “Said his was fucking Duke.” Calum stares at him for a moment.

“Wait,” he says, and he sounds a little strangled. “Duke? Like, my dog?”

“Yeah,” Luke says pointedly, in what he hopes is a I’m not that stupid kind of tone.

“Oh,” Calum says, and now he sounds somewhere between frightened and elated. Luke cocks his head, frowning.

“What?” he asks.

“It’s just…” Calum trails off, and shrugs.

“What?” Calum bites his lip, and then tugs the scarf down.

There, inked on the side of Calum’s neck, is a Gibson guitar with six numbers on it: 201195. It takes Luke a minute to put two and two together, but after realising it doesn’t say 2011-95 but 20-11-95, it suddenly makes sense. That’s Michael’s guitar, and that’s Michael’s birthday.

“Oh,” he says, and now he’s just confused. “Why the fuck did you get Michael’s guitar tattooed on your neck?” Calum lets go of the scarf and it snaps back up, covering the tattoo again.

“I didn’t,” he says. “It appeared last night.”

“Well, where’s mine, then?” Luke asks sceptically, looking down at his hands and turning them over and over, like a tattoo is suddenly going to appear.

“I don’t know,” Calum says. “Andy’s was on his arse.” Luke stares at him.

“I’m not getting my arse out in the office,” he says. Calum rolls his eyes.

“Go to the fucking toilet,” he says. Luke stands up, because it seems like until he plays into this elaborate prank it’s not going to end, and then stops.

“Wait,” he says. “What if it is on my arse?”

“Then it’s on your arse,” Calum says, sounding a little nonplussed. It’s Luke’s turn to roll his eyes.

“I won’t be able to see it,” he says, hoping Calum will get the hint. Calum stares at him for a moment, then shrugs, and stands up.

“I hope it’s on your dick,” he says, with a grin.

“Fuck you,” Luke says, as they walk to the toilet opposite their office. Luke pushes open the door to the first cubicle, and then pauses. “Wait, is it going to look weird if we’re in a cubicle together?”

“Probably,” Calum says, but he follows Luke into the cubicle anyway, closing the door behind him.

It’s cramped with Calum in there too, and they shuffle around each other for a moment before Calum hops onto the toilet and gets out of Luke’s way, leaving him to take his jacket off and then fiddle with his shirt buttons.

“This is the world’s worst strip-tease,” Calum comments after a moment, and Luke scowls at him.

“Dickhead,” he says, and then, having finally removed his shirt, he turns around to hang it on the hook on the back of the door. That’s when Calum gasps.

“It’s, uh. It’s on your back,” he says, and he sounds a little worried. Luke twists, trying to see.

“What?” he says, because he’s not that flexible. “Where?”

“On your shoulderblade,” Calum says, pointing, as if it’ll help. Out of the corner of his eye, Luke can see a crease of concern between Calum’s brows.

“I can’t see,” Luke says grumpily.

“Hang on, I’ll take a picture,” Calum says, standing up and fishing his phone out of his pocket. Luke stands still for a moment, until he reckons Calum must have taken the picture, then turns around. Calum hesitates for a moment, then thrusts the phone at Luke.

Luke sees his skin, pale and freckled, broken up by dark black ink. It’s a strangely beautiful tattoo, a bird carrying what looks like some kind of stick in front of a waning moon. It reminds him a bit of two of his ex’s tattoos, actually - he had some kind of bird on his neck, and a bunch of moons on his forearms.

It’s that thought that’s on his mind as he looks over the picture again, and his eyes fall on the stick.

It’s a drumstick.

Oh.

“Fuck,” Luke says, and he suddenly feels sick. No fucking way has he woken up with his first ever tattoo, and it’s something to do with Ashton. “Fuck. Calum, tell me this isn’t real. Tell me this is a fucking prank.” Calum looks at him like he wishes he could tell Luke it was a prank, and shakes his head slowly.

Luke feels his knees give out, falling to the cold tile floor hard.

“It comes off, right?” he says, an edge of panic in his voice. Calum looks at him again, and then shakes his head again. “Cal, please. I- I can’t have a tattoo to do with Ashton.”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Calum says, eyes sincere and sad.

“What does it mean?” Luke asks. Calum shrugs helplessly.

“No one knows,” he says.

“But you have Michael,” Luke says desperately, “and Michael’s got you.” Calum hesitates, and then shrugs again.

“I don’t know, Luke,” he says gently.

“Maybe it doesn’t mean anything,” Luke says, like he’s trying to convince himself more than anything.

“Maybe,” Calum echoes, but he doesn’t sound sure at all.

-------

It takes three months before it’s decided what they are.

A huge number of studies are done in that time. Calum and Michael themselves volunteer for one, because apparently not everybody knows what - or who - theirs refers to. Some people turn out to have no tattoo, and it seems like people are only getting their tattoos on their eighteenth birthdays. It’s the only topic in the news for that entire time - the only topic of conversation, the only topic Luke encounters fucking anywhere.

He’s grateful his tattoo is on his shoulderblade, so it’s mostly hidden, because he sees everybody sneaking furtive glances at people’s necks, hands, forearms, collarbones, anywhere with visible tattoos. He dodges questions about what his tattoo is from everybody but Calum, Michael, and his family, because the words rise like bile in his throat - it’s Ashton.

(“Oh, Luke,” Michael says sadly, when Luke tells him, and pulls him into the tightest hug Luke thinks he’s ever had.)

(“Oh, Luke,” his mum says sadly, when Luke tells her, sigh broken up by the static of the phone line.)

(“Oh, Luke,” Jack and Ben say simultaneously on their group call, a moment of tense, awkward, sad silence hanging between them for a moment afterwards.)

After three months, though, there’s a huge press conference. They’ve worked out what they are, the authorities say, and they’re going to do a televised conference announcing it and explaining how they reached that conclusion.

Of course, the whole world is on tenterhooks. They do it in Europe, because it’s deemed the easiest timezone for everybody to work around, so Luke finds himself wedged between Michael and Calum on Calum’s sofa at eleven p.m., biting his nails almost obsessively.

Michael and Calum aren’t speaking much, either. Luke’s not really sure it was the best move for them to be together while finding out what their tattoos about each other mean, but frankly, he’s too focused on finding out what his tattoo means to worry about them.

At two minutes past eleven, researchers begin to file into the panel in front of the audience of journalists, world leaders standing behind them. It looks almost comical, Luke thinks a little hysterically, a row of men and women in lab coats to highlight their authority on the matter, the world’s most powerful people standing solemnly behind them. Some of their tattoos are visible too, but Luke’s too caught up willing time to move faster so he can finally fucking find out what having a tattoo about Ashton on his shoulderblade means.

At four minutes past eleven, they start speaking. There’s about five minutes of preamble that Luke can’t follow, lots of words like hypothesis and methodology washing over him, and then the researcher sitting in the middle of the panel clears his throat, pushes his glasses up his nose, and takes a deep breath.

“From these international, rigorously conducted studies of large portions of different populations, we have concluded,” he says, and nobody breathes. This is the moment. Luke’s heart seems to be trying to get his daily quota’s worth of heartbeats into a single second. “We have concluded that these tattoos appear to be soulmate markings.”

Luke hears nothing that he says after that.

Soulmate markings. The words echo in his mind, bouncing off every cell in his brain.

It can’t be right, Luke thinks desperately, as he watches the panellists take questions from journalists but doesn’t hear the words they say. Ashton’s not his soulmate. There’s no such thing as soulmates, and if there were, Luke’s wouldn’t be the first man who had ever truly broken his heart, who had left him almost incapable of carrying on, who had brought him so fucking close to the precipice.

He’d thought Ashton had been it, back then. He’d thought that he’d been so lucky to find the guy he wanted to marry so young in life. And then, three years later, Ashton had turned around one day, ashen-faced, and told him he didn’t love him anymore.

That had been it. Luke’s world, Luke’s mind, Luke’s heart, had broken.

So there’s no fucking way, no fucking way, that Ashton can be Luke’s soulmate. Luke’s soulmate wouldn’t have fallen out of love with him. Luke’s soulmate would never have pushed him so close to never seeing another birthday again. Luke’s soulmate wouldn’t leave him.

Luke’s so caught up in the sickness that’s washed over him, hands trembling, freezing and sweaty, that he doesn’t realise what this means for Michael and Calum until a noise pulls him back to reality harshly. It’s Calum, clearing his throat.

“Well,” he says, and he sounds weirdly high-pitched, and suddenly Luke thinks, shit. Calum and Michael are soulmates.

“Yep,” Michael says, equally high-pitched and slightly choked.

“Oh,” Luke puts in, because fuck, Calum and Michael are soulmates.

“Oh,” Calum says, like he’s just remembered Luke’s there, and then there’s two sets of arms around Luke, warm and vanilla and mint and pine.

“Oh, Luke,” Michael says, and he sounds so sad that Luke’s heart breaks all over again.

Neither of them say anything more, because there’s so much to say that picking any one thing would be doing everything else an injustice.

-------

Luke does nothing about it for five weeks.

Michael and Calum don’t say anything about it either, not wanting to push, but Luke’s getting kind of sick of the wary looks they send in his direction, of the whispered conversations that stop as soon as he walks into the room. They’ve fallen into it so easily that it chokes Luke up when he sees them, easy touches and glances that they’ve always had but have somehow taken on a new meaning.

(“When did you know?” Luke asks Calum one night over the phone, staring up at his ceiling.

“That I was in love with him?” Calum asks.

“Yeah.”

“I’ve always known,” Calum says, and Luke’s heart hurts because he’s so happy for them, he is, but he’s so fucking miserable.)

He jumps every time he gets a text for the first few weeks, thinking it might be Ashton, and filled with both relief and a little bit of disappointment when it never is. His mum doesn’t ask, and neither does his dad, and nor do Jack and Ben, and he loves them all for it. He doesn’t want to talk about it, but he hates the way it hangs, thick and solid in the air between them all every time he calls.

Five weeks is when he breaks.

He’s in the toilet at work, sat fully-clothed on the closed toilet seat, practically hyperventilating as he types, erases, types, erases.

Hey. I know we haven’t spoken in years-

Hey. I know we haven’t spoken in a while-

Hi. It’s Luke.

Hi. It’s Luke (Hemmings).

It feels fucking awful still, even after a few years have passed, to see Ashton Irwin staring at him at the top of the screen, not the stupid inside joke contact name he’d had for the entirety of their relationship. It feels fucking awful typing so formally. It feels fucking awful not knowing what to say to someone who used to know Luke better than anyone else. The whole thing feels fucking awful.

Eventually, when he’s been sat on the toilet for so long his arse is starting to go numb, he just types two words.

What’s yours?

He puts his phone back in his pocket, unlocks the cubicle with shaking fingers, and goes to wash his hands, because otherwise it’ll look like he’s incredibly unhygienic.

His phone buzzes as he’s drying his hands, and his heart lurches. He hastily wipes his hands on his trousers, fumbling with trembling fingers with his phone and nearly throwing up when he sees Ashton Irwin flashing up on his screen.

Ashton Irwin It’s you.

-------

Luke sits on the information for two days before telling Michael and Calum.

They’re at Michael’s, sitting on the sofa eating pizza (or, at least, Michael and Calum are eating pizza - Luke’s half-heartedly prodding at his), and Calum and Michael are having some kind of a heated squabble about whether tuna on pizza is acceptable or not, and Luke just blurts it out.

“I texted Ashton,” he says suddenly, and both Michael and Calum stop, dead still.

“You- what?” Michael says, after a few (incredibly strained) seconds have passed.

“I texted Ashton,” Luke repeats, mumbling this time. He’s gazing intently at his pizza, mostly to avoid looking at Calum or Michael.

“Did he reply?” Calum asks.

“Yeah,” Luke says. Both Michael and Calum inhale sharply.

“What did he say?” Michael asks. Luke swallows. He doesn’t think he can say it out loud.

“I-” he starts, but cuts himself off, the words too heavy for his tongue to handle. He shakes his head instead, fishing for his phone in his pocket, and chucks it over to Calum, who catches it deftly. Michael leans over as Calum types in Luke’s passcode - his birthday, because he’s too stupid to remember any other date - and there’s a moment of tension, of bated breath, as they wait for the message to load.

Luke knows when they’ve seen it because both of their faces contort into the same expression, somewhere between worry, confusion, fear, concern and sympathy.

“Fuck,” Michael says, staring at Luke almost hesitantly, like he’s about to implode.

“Are you okay?” Calum asks quietly. Luke shrugs.

“I don’t know,” he says honestly, because he doesn’t. He’s over Ashton, he is, but he’s never going to forgive or forget the way Ashton left him, the way he broke him and swept away, not even glancing at the pieces of Luke he left in his wake. Ashton can’t be his soulmate.

“That’s okay,” Calum says, calm and reassuring. “It’s okay to not know.”

“It’s just a tattoo,” Michael says. “Tattoos can’t tell you who to love.”

It makes Luke feel a little better.

-------

He doesn’t text Ashton again.

In fact, he’s almost succeeded in pushing Ashton into a corner of his mind again, shoving him back into the Do Not Open box that this tattoo business had let him out of, when his phone buzzes in the middle of the night a week later.

He reaches over groggily, aiming to turn off whatever it is that’s lighting up his screen and sending vibrations resonating through his bedside table, but wakes up with a shot of adrenaline when he sees the name lighting up his screen.

Ashton Irwin We should probably talk about this.

Luke sits bolt upright in bed, palms suddenly sweating. The only thing he can think to do is unlock his phone and dial Michael, knowing he’ll be up, even though it’s two a.m.

“What?” Michael asks, sounding slightly irked. Luke can hear clicking in the background, so it’s probably a safe bet that he’s playing a game.

“Ashton texted me,” he says, and the clicking stops.

“What did he say?”

“Uh,” Luke says, holding the phone away from his ear and squinting as the bright screen blinds him in the darkness of the room. He fumbles for his light switch with one hand while exiting back into the messages app with the other. “‘We should probably talk about this.’”

“Yeah, we should,” Michael says, “that’s why I’m asking what he texted you.”

“No, that’s what he said,” Luke says.

“He said you should talk about it?”

“Yeah.” There’s a pause.

“That bastard,” Michael says calmly. “What did you say?”

“Nothing, yet,” Luke says. “I called you first.”

“Tell him ‘nah, you’re good’,” Michael says, and Luke knows he’s only, like, ten percent joking.

“Michael,” he says, tone admonishing, but his stomach feels a little lighter. Knowing he’s got Michael and Calum on his side - fiercely on his side - makes it feel a lot less scary, a lot easier to handle.

“Well, what do you want to say?” Michael asks.

“I don’t know,” Luke says. He’s fantasised about this so many times since they broke up - about Ashton texting him, about Luke having the power to say no, or say yes - but he’s never decided on a resolute response in his daydreams.

“You don’t have to reply,” Michael says. “You don’t owe him shit.”

“I know,” Luke says, and it comforts him, somehow. “Maybe I won’t.”

“I’ll reply for you,” Michael says, and then there’s more clicking. “Just give me a few minutes to look up how to say ‘go fuck yourself’ in at least forty different languages.” Luke laughs at that, the knot in his stomach loosening considerably.

“I can’t fucking believe this,” he says, because now that he’s talking about it, now that it’s not just in his own head and his own heart, it feels a lot less frightening. “What a fucking joke. We get soulmates, and mine’s Ashton?”

“That’s what you get for saying my fringe was ugly in Year Seven,” Michael says.

“It was ugly.”

“Well, now something else terrible is going to happen to you,” Michael says cheerfully.

“What’s worse than waking up with a giant tattoo about Ashton on my back?” Luke says.

“Having to speak to him again,” Michael says. Luke doesn’t really think he can argue with that.

“I’m going to turn my phone off,” he says, stifling a yawn, because now that the adrenaline’s subsided, the exhaustion is kicking in again.

“You should just block him,” Michael suggests. Luke is sorely tempted for a moment, but then sighs.

“I’ll deal with it tomorrow,” he says, because it’s too late, and he’s not thinking straight, and he doesn’t want to do something he’ll regret. “Thanks for listening to me, Mikey.”

“Always,” Michael says, with a sincerity Luke didn’t know he had in him. “But you’re going to have to pay me for my services in food.”

“I’ll cook for you,” Luke says.

“I said food, not chargrilled remnants of what used to be pasta,” Michael says.

“I can cook pasta,” Luke protests.

“‘Cook’ is a bit of a strong word to describe what you can do with pasta,” Michael says.

“Arsehole,” Luke says, but he’s smiling.

“Love you too,” Michael says, and Luke can hear the grin in his voice. “Go to bed.”

“Alright, mum,” Luke grumbles. “Night.”

“Night,” Michael says, and then he hangs up, and Luke’s suddenly all too aware of the silence and darkness and sheer loneliness of his room.

He switches his phone off, rolls over, and lets the warm feeling of knowing Michael’s there for him envelop him, eventually drifting off to sleep.

-------

“So,” Calum says, when Luke walks into work the next morning, exhausted and late. He’s swivelled around in his chair to face Luke, fingers steepled against his chin like he’s deep in thought. “Did you text him back?” Luke scowls.

“I wish Michael would let me tell you things myself,” he says, slamming his bag onto his desk with a little more force than strictly necessary.

“Did you?” Calum asks again. Luke shakes his head, throwing himself down in his chair, taking his phone out of his bag and putting it on the table before chucking his bag under his desk.

“I don’t know if I want to,” he says.

“Fair enough,” Calum says, with a shrug. Luke bites his lip.

“Do you think I should?” Calum shrugs again.

“I think you should do what feels right,” he says.

“I don’t know what feels right,” Luke moans, putting his head in his hands. “He’s my fucking ex. He fell out of love with me. How is he my soulmate?”

“Maybe he’s, like, a platonic soulmate?” Calum offers, and then recoils in the heat of the glare Luke sends his way.

“Ashton’s not really high up on the list of people I’m looking to be friends with,” Luke says. Calum looks like he’s about to say something, but then Luke’s phone buzzes. He looks over, half-expecting it to be Michael, but-

Ashton Irwin Don’t ignore me, Luke. This is important.

Anger suddenly flares hot in Luke’s stomach.

“Is it him?” Calum asks. Luke nods, and holds the phone up over his desk for Calum to see. “Are you fucking serious?”

“He texted me at two a.m.,” Luke says.

“He’s so fucking entitled,” Calum says, sounding almost as irate as Luke feels. Luke’s so angry that he types out a response without even thinking about it.

Me Are you fucking serious? You texted me at two in the morning.

“What did you say?” Calum wants to know, and Luke dutifully reads it out to him. Calum nods approvingly. “Call him a bastard next time.” Luke laughs, both bitter and amused, and then his phone buzzes again.

Ashton Irwin I know you’re at work.

Ashton Irwin Call me on your lunch break?

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Luke mutters, thrusting his phone at Calum.

“At least he put a question mark this time,” Calum says. “Fucking arsehole.”

Luke’s fingers are shaking as he types.

Me Fuck you. You left me like it was nothing, like I meant nothing after I gave all of myself to you for three years. You never checked in on me, never asked about me, never bothered seeing if I was okay. You just told me you fell out of love with me, and then up and left. You don’t get to demand shit from me now.

Luke erases it all.

Me I don’t have anything to say to you.

The typing bubble pops up as soon as Luke’s sent the message, and he watches the words form in front of his eyes.

Ashton Irwin I do, though.

-------

Luke’s not really sure how he finds himself standing outside in the biting early-October wind on his lunch break, finger hovering over the dial button on Ashton’s contact name.

He’s been standing there for five minutes, almost pressing it but never quite getting there (except one time his finger had slipped and he’d pressed it and then stabbed the ‘end call’ button about fifty times straight in a blind panic).

On the one hand, he really, really doesn’t want to talk to Ashton. He’s moved on from Ashton, with a lot of expensive therapy, a lot of leaning on his friends more than he should have and a lot of eating his body weight in processed food, and he wants Ashton to stay a part of his past. He’s worked hard to get to where he is today, and he doesn’t need to be flung back to where he had been.

On the other hand, this is kind of a big deal. They’re soulmates. Ashton was right, although Luke doesn’t want to admit it - this is something they should talk about. Plus, it can’t hurt to hear what Ashton has to say, right?

With ten minutes left of his lunch break and approximately the same amount of time before he has to start sacrificing fingers to frostbite, Luke takes a deep breath and presses the dial button.

It rings twice, and then there’s a click as Ashton picks up.

“Hello?” Ashton says, and Luke suddenly feels incredibly sick. He hasn’t heard Ashton’s voice in two years, not since he was telling Luke he didn’t love him anymore, and it throws Luke back to that place, making him feel small and vulnerable and pathetic.

“Hi,” he says, and he’s proud of how steady his voice comes out given the circumstances. “I have ten minutes.”

“Okay,” Ashton says. “You’re still living in Sydney, then?”

“What?” Luke says, slightly taken aback by the question. “Oh. Yeah.”

“Cool,” Ashton says. There’s a moment of awkward silence, and Luke contemplates Googling the quickest way to end his own life before Ashton speaks again.

“How are you?” he asks, and Luke can’t help but laugh at that.

“Are you fucking serious?” he asks, and he suddenly feels a little better, a little more in control. Ashton’s asking how he is, and he’s the one laughing. He’s the one with the power. Ashton wants to talk to Luke - Luke doesn’t want to talk to Ashton.

“What?” Ashton sounds a bit defensive.

“Get to the point,” Luke says, feeling braver and bigger with every passing second. “I didn’t call for a fucking catch up.”

“Jesus,” Ashton mutters. “What the fuck happened to you?” You happened, Luke thinks bitterly, but he won’t give Ashton that satisfaction.

“I grew a fucking spine,” he says instead. “Just tell me what you wanted to talk about.”

“Well,” Ashton says. “I just- I feel like we should talk about the fact that we’re...y’know. Soulmates.”

“I don’t have anything to say about it,” Luke says.

“Are you serious, Luke?” Ashton says, sounding slightly pissed off, and Luke’s caught off-guard for a moment, hearing his name in Ashton’s familiar yet strange voice again.

“Yeah,” Luke says, and he can’t help the bitterness that tinges his tone. “You fucking left, Ashton, and it’s been two years. What the fuck am I supposed to have to say to you?”

“We’re soulmates,” Ashton says, like that’s supposed to mean something to Luke.

“Oh, what, so you wouldn’t have fallen out of love with me if you got a fucking tattoo a few years earlier?” Luke says, fury swirling in his chest. “You needed a bit of ink to tell you who to love?”

“That’s not what I mean,” Ashton says, even though to Luke it sounds like it’s exactly what he means.

“Right,” Luke says sarcastically. “What’s the point in this call?”

“To fucking talk, Luke, not have you bite my head off,” Ashton says. The fury grows hotter in Luke’s chest, seeping into his veins and heating up his muscles.

“Talk about what?” he spits.

“You’re my fucking soulmate!” Ashton says, voice rising. “Don’t you want to fucking talk about it?”

“No!” Luke shouts, and two passers-by give him an odd look. He lowers his voice, and tries again. “No. I don’t have anything to say about it.”

“I think we should meet up,” Ashton says.

“I think you’re fucking insane,” Luke tells him. “I’m going back to work. Don’t contact me again.”

“Wait,” Ashton nearly yells, and Luke, out of instinct, hesitates. “Uh. What’s your- what’s it of?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Luke growls, and hangs up.

He lets out a shaky exhale as he tips his head back against the cold brick wall behind him, anger pounding through his veins, ringing in his ears.

Fuck Ashton Irwin, he thinks, blinking up at the cloudless sky. Fuck Ashton Irwin, and fuck the soulmate tattoos.

chapter two

#lashton #5sos fic #5sos fanfiction #5sos slash #malum #i spent So Long trying to come up w a good title and then gave up #i can always change it on tumblr #its ao3 that fucks me

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rhabakoli · 5 years

Text

Hold my Heart

This is a very late addition to @dreamwritesimagines Writer’s Block Challenge. I’m amazed that I managed to get anything out at all, so suck it.

11. Just give me the name and I will give you the directions to their grave

The Garrison was bursting at the seams, smoke blurring the air, the smell of it mixing with the stench of tabaco and alcohol. The blend penetrated the pub's every pore, not one poor, damned soul in the building was spared. The employees had given up hope to ever be clear of it, for it clung to their hair and skin and every fibre of their clothes. The barmaids, if they hadn't already, started smoking themselves; even shared with some customers, as it pulled even more money out of the poor fools pockets. Men were easy. A little smile here, a little slip of skin there, a cigarette dangling from sinfully red painted lips and they were goners. Elise found herself amidst the wild crowd. She only had come to pick up her brother Ben, but he was buried under a pretty blonde and tried to eat her face. Elise wasn't prude - by god, no, the amount of times she'd been caught fooling around with a guy in some dark alley... But she'd rather not see her baby brother loose his virginity in this dump of a bar. She had to grin at herself. "Better not let the Peakies hear." Arthur would probably throw a bottle at her, like he had done with the last person who'd misspoken. "Lass, aren't ye a bit lost?"

She turned to see a tall, obviously drunk man lean against the bar where she stood. He needed it to keep upright, otherwise he'd keel over any moment now. "I am not, but thank you for your concern.", she answered, not sure if she should just scream for her brother or keep quiet. Drunk men were not her forte, she didn't like the smell, didn't like how they forgot how to behave, didn't like how it lowered their already exceptionally questionable inhibitions. He took a step closer, reached for her cheek to pinch it. "A sweet lookin' lass like ye shouldna be in such a dark place, eh?" "I'm fine, thank you." Elise took a step back, out of his reach. The man followed, but stumbled, fell. His hand caught her shoulder and pulled her down with him. Her shriek slashed through the thick air like a whip; caught everyone’s attention. Her brother's, most importantly. Ben looked up, and murder crossed his face as he laid eyes upon the situation at the bar. He peeled himself from the blonde and hastily came over. The drunk giggled and squeezed her cheeks with one hand. „Yeh soft in all the right places, lassie.“ Just a second later, he was gone. Ben had hauled him up by the back of his shirt and more or less threw him to the side. The look on his face softened as he helped his sister up. "You okay, El?" Her brother grabbed her by the arms, eyes flitting down her body. "Yeah, he just caught me off guard." "Ye have a nice scream, lassie. Ye always like that?" He didn't get to add another word, because Arthur came and hauled him up. "If ye can't be a gentleman around the ladies, I'll have ye kicked out, bastard." He shoved him over to some of his subordinates, kicked his arse and gestured them to bring him outside. "I'll have no sweetheart in here harmed, make him remember." Elise shuddered at the thought of 'making him remember' That was Peaky-code for 'make him choke on his own tongue'. He'd barely remember his name tomorrow. She already opened her mouth to protest - it was really not necessary-, when her brother shushed her, and then turned towards Arthur. "He better remembers not to get piss drunk around my sister." The eldest Shelby grinned under his moustache and slapped the younger man‘s cheek in a brotherly gesture. "He will, if he knows what good for him, eh?" Elise sighed. Sometimes even she forgot. Ben wasn't officially part of the Peakies, but he did know the Shelbys rather well. He'd been to war with them, stationed in that hellhole and barely survived. And even though her brother was sunshine and cheekiness personified, he surely had his dark days. The Shelby brothers were his go-to address then. The times she'd woken up to one of the Peakies pounding on her door, delivering her unconscious brother, or to a couple of men sleeping in her living room, surprising her in the morning when she went to make breakfast – she’d stopped counting. "Thanks, Mr. Shelby.", she said, her hands folded in front of her. She didn't always call him that, but in public she wanted to draw a line. His eyes went soft, but the twinkle didn't cease. "Love, I've slept on ye fuckin' floor, don' ye think it's a bit weird to call me Mister?" "She's fucking proper, what ya think?" John appeared by their side, his arm thrown over Ben’s shoulder and his head turned to look at Elise over his head. "Has manners, and all that fucking shit." He then looked down at Ben, smirk pulling at his lips. "I sometimes wonder if ye are actually related.“ He pulled the toothpick from his lips and gestured between the siblings with his hand. „There you got a fucking lady, and here you got a fucking rabid, horny dog." Elise had to laugh. John and Ben were so alike, always teasing and cheeky. They'd gotten on like a roof on fire from the very beginning. If they'd met earlier, before the war, they'd have annihilated the whole neighbourhood. "I'm going home, Ben.", Elise said. "Will you come?" He didn't get to answer, Arthur was faster. "I'll take ye home, sweetheart. Let the youngin' live a bit." "Don't talk like yer fuckin 50.", John laughed, whirled Ben around so he could get to Elise and give her a big sloppy kiss on the cheek. "Good night, sister I wished was mine." Yeah, well. There goes the line. John really didn’t just step over it, he pulled out a machine gun, targeted her carefully crafted wall and then shot it down while laughing like a maniac. Their banter was helping her relax though, therefore it was easier not to be mad at him. „Oi, dickhead! You got a sister! Leave mine alone, or I’ll piss on your grave!“ „Ye’ll do that no matter what, I know ye.“

It’s been a couple quiet days. As quiet as Small heath could ever be, at least. There haven’t been any fights, no drunk escapades that escalated into mass brawls, no gang business handled on open street. It was like the calm before a storm, it was treacherous. It made Elise itchy. She stood in her kitchen, hands dusted up to her elbows with flour. Their parents birthday came up, and as always she’d serve her father’s favourite pie and pour her mother’s favourite wine. It was hard to get, but she had her ways.

A knock at the kitchen door interrupted her work, forced her out of her headspace. With a deep sigh, she called out to whoever it was. “Come in!” It squeaked horribly, like a slaughtered pig, as it opened. The sound of dress shoes on her kitchen tiles caught her attention. Ben’s army boots made a softer noise, duller. She glanced at her guest and had to swallow a snort. “You really shouldn’t just let anyone in, Elise.” Tommy fucking Shelby. Right in her kitchen. There was the storm she had been waiting for. “I wasn’t aware you Shelbys were ‘just anyone’?” The corner of his mouth lifted at that. Just a tiny bit. “I stand corrected. You shouldn’t let anyone in, but us Shelbys and your brother.” Elise finally looked up, took him in properly. He carried a big bouquet of flowers, white roses and greenery and whatnot. “Who are those for?” “You.” Elise froze, just a second, before she tilted her head and repeated it back at him in the most bewildered tone. “Your mother, to be precise.” He looked down at the flowers, pulled out one or two wilting leaves before he sat the flowers down on the table. “I heard she liked them.” Who and when, Elise wondered. And then she remembered who she was talking to. He probably knew the size of her bustier. She held her hands up in apology. “I'd put them in a vase, but I'm in a bit of a bound.” “It's fine, just tell me where you keep them.” Alright. This was a weird day. “Cupboard to your right.” She watched Tommy roam through her cupboard. It felt surreal. Maybe she was just dreaming. He wore his signature cap. The razors sewn into the edge of it were reflecting the light of the sun falling into her kitchen. How often did they cut themselves with those things? Surely there'd been a finger or two lost. While she was staring at his cap, wondering about potential accidents, Tommy had found a vase suitable for his needs and put the flowers in. “There. May they keep long enough to delight your mum.” When he got no reaction, he looked up at Elise. She was staring at him, through him, more accurately. Her eyes were blank, focused on something else entirely. It gave him a moment to take her in. Elise was a proper beau. She had the same soft, light hair as her brother, long lashes that made her eyes seem bigger- and those freckles. They were all over her face, her neck, and he bet they reached much farther than that. Tommy scowled at himself. He had to keep her safe, not rope her into his dirty, dark world, much too dangerous for such a precious ray of light as Elise. Ben survived it, could cope with it, but Tommy wasn’t willing to risk infecting her. „Elise?“ His voice ripped her out of her daydream and she immediately focused on the man in her kitchen. Her eyes were piercing, and Tommy had trouble breathing for a second. He almost felt naked, as if she was looking right into his soul, stripped layer after layer off him and read all his little sick secrets. A cold shiver ran down his spine and he had to fight the urge to take a step back. „Sorry, I-„ she stopped, then smiled bashfully. “I was just wondering how many times you guys cut yourself by accident.“ She was pointing at his hat, smile slipping when he simply kept looking at her, not reacting. But he did have to supress a grin at her comment. Finn almost cut off a finger just a couple weeks before, the little munchkin. Elise raised her hands when he didn’t answer. „Never mind, forget it, it’s fine.“ She turned around, back to her dough, and dug her hands into it. No, he couldn’t just leave it at that. He didn’t want to have her feel upset or embarrassed. He took off his cap, shrugged off his coat and jacket. He hung them over the back of one of the stools at the kitchen table and started folding his sleeves. Elise didn’t notice any of that, she was too focused on scolding herself for asking such stupid, invading questions. She was mumbling to herself. Adorable. She was so. adorable. Tommy walked over to her, leaned his hip against the counter, not caring about the flour ending up on the fabric of his pants. „Here.“ Elise startled at the sudden proximity. Her kneading stopped, her eyes were big with surprise, as she looked from his face to his outstretched hands. He presented the palms of his hands, blue eyes fixed to her face. She didn’t understand at first, but then he started talking again. „I was seven.“ He rubbed the thumb of his right hand along a scar spanning from his pointer finger to his ring finger. „Dad had left his cap on a chair in the living room. Arthur almost pissed his pants when he saw all the blood.“ Elise’s eyes trailed over his hands, taking in every single scar and crease, every little dip and dry spot on his skin. The mental picture of little Tommy scaring his brother with a bleeding hand made her chuckle. He turned the very same hand, now showing her a small nick right on his wrist bone. „Freak accident was trying to keep Arthur from bashing some poor fellows face in.“ He wanted to turn his hand over again, when Elise reached out, completely ignoring her sticky, flour dusted hands. Her fingertips smoothed over his roughed-up knuckles and the long, thin scar across the back of his hand. „What happened here?“ Her voice was soft, like a lovers caress. „Brawl back in the war.“ She hummed at him, understanding. Her gaze was soft, but inquiring, and Tommy found himself relaxing under her actions. She knew about the occasional mild brutality in his life, no need to lie to her about it. She switched to his other hand, inspecting it. She asked about his other, various nicks and scars, and he all too willingly answered. He sometimes omitted some of the more gory details, but he rather enjoyed the softness of her hands on his. This is all he’d allow himself, this is enough. It had to be. Elise laughed at a story about pre-puberty John climbing a fence to get on a horse that was labelled dangerous. It had ended in John taking a dive into the mud and Tommy acting a shield between a very angry horse and his brother. He had fallen into the fence and presented the perfect target for a nail. „You were a bunch of mischievous little shits, weren’t you.“ It wasn’t a question, not really. „I feel like we probably still are.“ It made her snort, which resulted in her going red and raise the back to her hand to hide her giggles. Tommy couldn’t stop watching her. He felt light with her, younger. He could forget his problems, murder and violence looming just out of his sight. Almost. Elise suddenly remembered the state of her hands, and quickly let go of his. It was too late already, but he didn’t mind. His hands, usually dipped in blood, could use a new reason to be sticky. „Oh, I’m so sorry.“ She looked up at him, and froze. Tommy was barely a hand width away, his face close enough to count his freckles. They had migrated toward each other, invaded each other’s personal bubble, and neither ever noticed. A pleasant tingle spread down Tommy’s back. His hand snaked around her left wrist, needed to pull her closer, needed to – The screeching backdoor caused them to jump apart. Elise’s heart threatened to jump out of her chest, her face took a colour similar to fresh, ripe tomatoes. Tommy was more subtle. He straightened, clenched his jaw and raised his eyes to the opening door. „Love, is the pie done? I have a craving!“ Arthur stepped in, followed by Ben and John, and suddenly her kitchen was crawling with Peaky Blinders. Ben squinted at the pair in the kitchen, before he was almost barrelled over by his friend, who attempted to greet Elise like an overly excited puppy. At the sight of his brother however, John stopped. He looked from his bare arms to the jacket on the chair, and back to Tommy, and then to the mass of dough still on the counter. „Were you fucking baking?“ His voice was squeaky, his face a mask of surprise and wonder. Elise had to bite her lip to not laugh at him. For the first time since she knew them, she saw Tommy not having an immediate answer. Instead, she jumped in. „He did, actually. I seem to have hurt my wrist, back when-” She gestured, knew they’d not need her to elaborate. Arthur simply grinned at her, her brother looked less than pleased to be reminded of that particular incident. John nodded veeery slow, then he grinned. „Wait till Alfie hears about that.“

The rest of the day consisted of the brothers moaning about pie, drinking the wine she had to grease a few palms to get, and whining about having to go outside to smoke. „I will not have the smell of these in my house, I told you all before.“ „El, yer fucking bossy.“ „I’d call it opinionated.“ Laughter erupted, and Arthur raised his hands in defence and quickly got up, lest she threw something at him. Ben came to stand next to where she was leaning against the kitchen counter, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. „They would have loved this.“ „Gangsters in our kitchen?“ „We’d never have told mum that, she’d have chased them away with a frying pan.“ Elise slung an arm around his waist and snuggled into her brother. „You’re right. Dad would have been right in there, giving them all sorts of stupid ideas.“ Tommy watched the two of them. The siblings were so alike, and so different at the same time. But both were cheerful and witty, which they definitely got from their parents. They must have been terrific people, to raise such amazing humans. Elise‘s laugh made his skin tingle, his fingers twitch. She was happiness and sunshine and smiles, she was pure, unblemished.

He feared the day this would change.

The weather was grey, the streets wet, the wind relentless. It felt like a message, telling of doom, announcing the end of the world. Tommy was itchy, anxious. He had a bad feeling he couldn’t shake, no matter how often he checked up on their operations, their plans, his family. Something was not right, and he wouldn’t know before it happened.

When Polly stormed through his door, worry edged into her face, it felt like someone ripped out his spine with an ice-cold grip. He was up in an instant, followed his aunt through the door, thundered down the stairs and had only a second to wonder about the open front door, before his ears caught the angry voices and the much quieter, softer pleas. Elise. The moment he saw her, curled up in an armchair, his fear gave away to fury. He couldn’t- „Tommy-„ And that was about all she could get out, before he was upon her, hands on her face, eyes cataloguing every little cut, angry red skin, every piece of her, that wasn’t as it was supposed to be, as he last had left her. She was crying, cheeks were wet, both from blood and tears. He knew his brothers were around, Ben too, but Elise was all he could focus on. Her lip was cut, her left cheekbone swollen to the point of bursting. Half of her face seemed to be swollen, hot to the touch, already shimmering in three different colours. Blood was crusted in her hair, which was matted to her head. Her hands were cut up, as were her knees. „What happened?“ Elise clawed at his shirt, clutched at it with all her might and didn’t seem willing to let go. „They,-“ She wheezed, fought to get air into her lungs, but she couldn’t. It was like something blocked her airway. Her eyes swam in a sea of tears, and the state of her agitated him to the point of mindless screaming. But he wouldn’t. Now was not the time. Tommy barked at Polly to get water, at his brothers to shut the fuck up. „Elise, breathe. You’re safe.“ Ben was by her side, stroked her hair out of her face. He shared her hurt, evident in the pain on his face as he looked at the wounds. He shushed her, pressed a kiss to the side of her head that was not mottled by violence. „It’s okay, El, it’s okay.“ Arthur was pacing behind them, John was leaning against the window sill, almost biting through his toothpick. Polly came back with a glass, gave it to Tommy, who raised it to Elise’s lips and silently urged her to drink. The cool wet felt like a blessing to her parched mouth, but it hurt to swallow. They’d gotten her good. Tommy and her brother were still hovering, keeping contact, telling her she was safe in words as well as actions. She tried to breathe, and it was easier. Her hands were still clenched in Tommy’s dress shirt, but she couldn’t bring herself to let go. He noticed her staring and covered her hands with one of his. He didn’t say anything, but the warm pressure on her shaking hands helped. She pulled air into her lungs, braced for the words. “I was on my way home.” The buttons of Tommy’s shirt were black, matte. Some had little scratches, some were alright. One was going to come loose soon, judging by the way the yarn was sticking out. “Some men grabbed me, pulled me into a car.” Hands on her, grabbing, pinching, leaving bruises where they touched. “They told me to bring you a message, Tommy.” Throat closed up once more, swallowing hurt. “But they never gave me one.” The chest under her hands heaved, strained. Tommy was trying to keep calm around her, not to scare her. He exchanged a look with Ben. Behind him, Arthur and John cursed, something clattered. Polly looked heavenward, probably working on an excuse for dead bodies found in their vicinity. They knew exactly what the message was. Tommy was fighting the anger inside him. His heart quickened, his face looked like he was short of having a stroke. Until he regained control. Elise hadn’t seen him this way, not ever. The transition was terrifying. He went from tortured by her pain to cold and calculating. He used the white rage in his chest to focus. Ben looked from Tommy to Arthur, disbelieving. “My sister got beaten up, because of you?” He was brooding, like a volcano. One wrong word and he’d explode into their faces, probably break some noses. He focused on Tommy, eyes sharp and harsh. “Why would they use my sister, Tommy?” He stood, Thomas followed. Elise curled into herself, before Polly came to sit on the armrest of the chair, hugging the woman to her side. “Why would they be sure that the message would reach you?” Ben’s whole posture was as cold and close to feral as the Shelby’s was. “Huh? Fucking why, Thomas?” Arthur was just about to intercept – imagine that – when Thomas gave a wry laugh. “From the fucking way you’re asking me, I’m guessing you already fucking know.” “Apparently you haven’t been overly subtle about it, haven’t you?” Elise’s brother was spitting the words into the elder’s face, clearly challenging him. “I thought I was.” Elise couldn’t decide who to look at. Her brother, who so boldly accused Tommy of something she couldn’t fully wrap her mind around, or Thomas, who was barely holding it together and looked like he wanted to run his fist through a wall. Or a skull, maybe. “Uhm, what-“ Ben raised his voice even more, completely ignoring anyone else in the room. “Shit, look what happened!” He gestured at his sister. “She looks awful, she’s hurt, and --“ He poked Tommy’s chest with every word. “It’s. your. fault.”

Elise wanted to protest, but Tommy finally snapped. “I goddamn know it is. I fucking know that I should have stayed away, that I should have kept her save, but fuck me, Ben, it’s not that easy when she’s right fucking there all. the. fucking. time!” He gestured wildly, rage spilling over, emotions running high. “I fucking despise myself for bringing your sister into this situation, that she has to suffer just to convey a fucking message, for fucks sake!” He was breathing hard, his eyes were bluer than ever, nailed Ben to where he was standing. “But damn me, if I won’t do everything in my power to find them and make them pay. Just give me the name and I’ll give you the directions to their gave.” **

Which is precisely what happened. Elise could give them a name, from when they had a particularly stupid moment, and then they were off like madmen. She was still holed up at the Shelby residence, didn’t dare to go against Tommy’s order to not move even an inch. The armchair was too comfy to leave anyway. Polly was tending to her injuries, while she spent the time staring at the door. The water in the bowl to Polly’s feet went from clear to pink, then to a dusty red. A bath would help her feel better, cleaner, but she wasn’t so sure if her legs would carry her. Another reason for staying right where she was. Ben and Tommy decided it was better to focus their rage elsewhere and not rip each other apart right there in the living room. But what had come to light before they managed to rein themselves in, was… interesting. Elise had been replaying it in her head, again and again, until she doubted whether it was words, or an alien language spoken. “Why did they decide to hurt me, Polly?” At first, she thought she hadn’t been heard. But when Polly let the rag fall into the bowl and sat straighter, she was smiling in a very unsettling way. “Because they figured out how to hurt Thomas. Their first and last taste of intelligence.” Elise played with the hem of her skirt; her forehead creased. It was hard to think in an orderly fashion. Her head felt foggy, like someone stuffed wool into it. Polly’s lips curled at the corners, then she helped the younger up. “C’mon. Let’s get you into bed.”

The bed dipped, warm fingers stroked over her cheek, pushed hair back behind her ear. Elise was fast asleep in Tommy’s bed. And he didn’t mind one bit. It was a nice sight to come home to. She stirred under his fingertips, winced when she moved, and shot upright as she realized someone was sitting in her bed. It took her a moment to come to, and then she sagged into herself, suddenly exhausted and weary. “How are you?” She had laid back, and now gave him a stinky side eye for his rather dumb question. “What does it look like?” Her tone was snappy, almost back to her ‘opinionated’ self. “You look rather cosy to me. How’s my bed?” “Like a cloud.” She gathered the comforter closer, squinted at him. “And I was beaten up because of you, so you can have the sofa. I won’t give up the bed.” Tommy smiled at her. “You’re alright.” He moved to get up, when she curled her fingers around his wrist. “Thomas.” Uh oh. “Why me?” Maybe not so alright then. He sat back down, took a deep breath, or two. Her hand didn’t leave his arm, but he wound his fingers between hers to hold her hand instead. “You’re my weakness.” Her brow furrowed, and she sat up once again. “What?” “You hold my heart in your hands and I can’t have anyone know, because they will use you to destroy me, as they tried today.” He looked up, watched her watch him. “If anything happens to you, I will go mad. And your brother with me.” Elise didn’t understand. Until she did. “So, you… like me?” Very eloquent, Elise. Well done. Tommy huffed in amusement. “Yes, Elise. I like you.” He opened his mouth to say something, probably something stupid about him being at fault for today and Ben being right to almost jump at his throat and whatever else his bonkers brain would fabricate – But he never got to say any of that. Soft lips met his instead, a small hand grabbed the back of his neck to keep him there. Instinctively, his free hand came to lie on her hip, then wandered around until he had wrapped an arm around her waist and could pull her close, out of her comfy nest of feather-stuffed blankets. Elise tasted sweet, like everything he’d ever dreamt of, and he wouldn’t stop. He couldn’t. A clumsy nip of his teeth made her hiss and pull back, her fingers untangled from his and came up to press to her lower lip, which was now bleeding again. “Sorry, didn’t mean to.” “It’s fine. I was aware of the risks.” His hand mirrored her move from earlier, fingers curling around her wrist. He pulled her hand to his mouth, pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “I will keep you save. I will end anyone who has a single thought of hurting you. I promise.” “First you have to survive my baby brother, Thomas.” He groaned, but it was good natured. “I’ll take him on, he’ll go easy on his beloved sister’s man.” “Oh, you’re my man now?” “Have been since the very beginning.” He grinned, bumped his nose against hers before dragging it across her uninjured cheekbone down to her jawline. “Since the day you picked up your brother from recovery and verbally obliterated him for running into that German bunker.” He pulled her even closer, felt her body against his, pressed his face against her neck and took a deep breath. He was home, she felt like home. “Good to know you like a verbal lashing. Maybe I’ll find it in me to scold you both for almost fighting each other.” Tommy hummed, left a trail of open-mouthed kisses along her neck. “How about we go to sleep first? You’ll need your strength for that.” Elise simply nodded, pressed a sweet little kiss to his lips and slid off his lap, back into the bed. She arranged the pillows and blankets to her liking, while Tommy got up and shed his shirt and shoes. He just had unbuttoned his pants, when she said: “You don’t even have to sleep on the sofa.” The grin on his face was boyish, careless; it lit up his whole face and made him seem years younger. “Didn’t think so.”

#a dreamwritesimagines production #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fic #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x oc #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x oc #trigger: violence

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