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#if he hated Francesca before he must hate her even more now
sea-owl · 1 year
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Spring's Rebirth Chapter 6
AO3: Link
Penelope poked at her fish. She knows she should eat it, it will help her headache, but she found that she did not have the stomach for any food right now. She supposed no one could really blame her. To be kidnapped, married, and then finding out the rumors of your best friend having the entrance to the Underworld in his forests are true would put off anyone's appetite.
Penelope felt her free hand being squeezed. Glancing down she saw a shadow in the shape of a hand laying on top of her own. She moved her hand into her lap and then over her stomach as a wave of nausea hits. Penelope set her fork down.
Standing up Penelope bowed her head. "I thank you for the meal, but it seems my appetite is missing." Like me. "With your permission your highness I would like to return to my room."
King Colin stood, which was really unnecessary, and offered his arm, which was even more unnecessary. "Allow me to escort you back."
"I would hate to interrupt your meal your highness," Penelope said. King Colin was never one to leave his plate anything but empty, and by the looks of it he's not even halfway done.
King Colin shrugged. "It will be there when I get back, or I can have it brought to my rooms."
Penelope leaned back. She blinked once, twice, and a third time. She had to be hearing things. This headache must be messing with her other senses.
King Colin offered his arm again and Penelope realized that nope, it wasn't the headache. Hesitantly, Penelope awkwardly took a loose hold on King Colin's arm.
Husband and wife were silent as they made their way down to Penelope's room. Penelope watched out of the corner of her eye as King Colin raised his other hand, as if to rest it on her's that's holding his arm before putting it down again. Multiple times.
After the fifth time Penelope knew she had to break the silence. Distract him. "I've never known you to pass up food before your highness."
King Colin chuckled. "What kind of king would I be if I couldn't do something as simple as escort my queen back to her room."
Penelope looked away. Her eyes steadily on the vases lining the hallway every ten feet. All of them held a some sort of dead flowers or plants. "I have not agreed to be queen your highness."
"Yet," King Colin automatically replied.
Penelope shook her head, eyes still not meeting his. "I am not meant to be queen, your highness."
They stopped in front of Penelop's door. King Colin gave Penelope's hand a squeeze before closing it around something. He rubbed his thumb against her knuckles and then brought them up to his lips. "I wish you would call me Colin. Like before."
Penelope felt her face heat up before darting into her room. Shutting the door behind her she could hear King Colin laughing as he walked away.
Once his footsteps were gone Penelope opened her hand to see what he had put in there. It was raw gemstones, two of them to be exact. The first one was a peachy pink stone, while the other one was a swirl of dark and light green. If Penelope remembered correctly, they were morganite and moss agate.
Raw gemstones were rare to find in the Court of the Earth and expensive to get a hold of, but Penelope supposed they wouldn't be hard to find here. Of the three courts the Court of the Underworld was the richest due to everything belonging to them that was under the earth, that included precious stones and metals. It was their main trade actually.
Penelope sat the gemstones down on the windowsill and watched as the limited light reflected off them. She'll give them back tomorrow.
Penelope rubbed her temples as a wave of dizziness passed. "Phillip you better get here soon."
Penelope soon found herself in a day-to-day pattern. Get up, hope this was the day Phillip showed up, study how to be a good not queen of the underworld with Lady Francesca, poke at the food that should help her headache if she wasn't so nauseas, and then ending with King Colin walking her back to her rooms and pressing a new gemstone in her hand. King Colin would then leave after rejecting her offer to give back the stones he already gave her. 
Some other stones King Colin has given her were a sapphire, opal, citrine, alexandrite, and topaz. All of them had ended up on her windowsill as she watches the faint reflective colors bounce around her room. Maybe she should a scroll on their meanings. She remembers Lady Mary once mentioned that like flowers different stones held different meanings. Maybe she can figure out why the King of the Underworld took her if she looked them up. 
King Colin still refused to admit he made a mistake by marrying her. Actually, he almost seemed hell bent to prove her wrong as he or Lady Francesca handed her scroll after scroll to learn more about the Underworld and how it works.
Today was one of those days as King Colin joined Penelope during her study time. He set down a tall vase with dead vines flowing out of it. Holding out two fists.
"Pick one and win a prize Pen!" King Colin said with a grin.
Penelope cocked her head to the side. "Your highness?"
"Colin," King Colin insisted. He pushed his arms out further. "Pick your prize Pen!"
Penelope put down her scroll, thankful she could give her swimming eyesight a break. "Whenever we played this game when we were younger there usually wasn't a prize in either hand."
King Colin looked offended. "Yes, there was! The prize was one of my treasured biscuits!"
Penelope started to roll her eyes but stopped halfway. She tapped his left hand. "Rarely. Besides the last time you asked me to pick a prize you told me I had to guess and then wait until the end of the war for you to tell me what it was. I still have no idea if I was to ever receive a prize."
King Colin smiled softly. "Which means you still haven't guessed." Opening his left hand revealed Lady Francesca's healing potion.
Penelope gasped, her small hands immediately grabbing the potion and downing it. "Oh, I could kiss Lady Francesca right now."
King Colin looked even more offended. "You would kiss your sister in-law before you kissed your husband? You're lucky you're cute Lady Penelope." He leaned forward and dropped a new stone into Penelope's free hand. "Otherwise, I wouldn't have given you two prizes."
Penelope examined the stone. It was white with a silvery blue shimmer when the light hit right. "A moonst-"
Penelope froze. King Colin used his height to lean over agian, this time kissing her forehead.
Penelope jerked back. Her feet leaving the ground as she felt the chair tip. She closed her eyes, bracing for some part of her body, most likely the back of her head, to hit the floor.
The floor never came, instead of hard marble hitting the back of her head, Penelope felt her side connect with another body. The arms attached to that body held her tight and was shaking. One of the shaking hands cradled her head.
Penelope looked up to see King Colin was the one holding her. His breathes coming out shallow.
"Are you okay? Why didn't you teleport yourself upright, or out of the chair?" King Colin demanded.
Penelope blushed. The truth was she forgot she could do that. When you are raised with your nymph sisters, and you are the only goddess you kind of forget you can do certain things they can't. King Colin gave her a dumbfounded look when she admitted this.
"You forgot?" King Colin repeated.
Penelope nodded. Looking around she saw the chair she was previously sitting in was on the other side of the table laying next to a shadow. Ah, King Colin must've used the shadow to pull her to his side.
"Thank you," Penelope said, as it was the polite thing to do.
King Colin shook his head. "Do not thank me. If I was properly training you to be queen you would have remembered you can teleport." He stopped her before she could argue that she was not the queen and pulled her up to sit in a new chair. This time he set the vase of dead vines in front of her. "Hyacinth has been begging for one of us to find these flowers for her again. I figured I one up my siblings and get them for her straight from the source."
Penelope raised an eyebrow before she took a closer look at the dead vines. What she assumed were dead leaves before were actually flowers. Withered and brown now she could still make out the trumpet shape they would taken when in full bloom.
"Are these moonflowers?" Penelope asked as she pulled the vase closer.
Moonflowers were a creation Penelope tried to make specially for Lady Hyacinth when she discovered her domain over the moon. Like every other creation she tried to make it only lasted a day at most before they died. Little Hyacinth didn't care though, she was happy to have a flower created just for her.
"The very same ones you made that day." King Colin said.
Penelope traced one of the flowers, feeling briefest flare of her magic in them. These were the exact same ones she made for Lady Hyacinth.
Penelope's face flushed. "Your highness! How did you get these?!"
King Colin shrugged like the answer was obvious. "Everything that dies comes to my realm Penelope. I'm surprised you haven't noticed your flowers earlier. I have them all over the castle, not to mention the Trail of Poppies."
Penelope was mortified. The vases she saw every ten feet, the dead flowers and plants in them were her's. King Colin had every failed creation she tried on display?! She buried her face in her hands.
"Hey no, none of that," King Colin said, gently pulling Penelope's hands away. "For you to be a proper queen you need to train up your magic and not just your mind. We're going to start with these."
King Colin guided Penelope's hands to the vines. "You brought the Trail of Poppies back to life; you can bring something small like this back to life too."
"Your highness I don't think-" Penelope was cut off with a pointed look.
Letting out a sigh Penelope replaced her hands on vines. Taking a few deep breathes she called forth her magic to her hands. Imagining the magic flowing through her fingertips to vines. Ah there's the roots. She poured a little more magic in fixing the roots. Next the vines strengthened, and the petals softened. Dark green coloring returned to the leaves and vines. The flowers themselves became a whitish purple, the inside layer shaped like a star while the outer layer flourishes around it.
King Colin grinned as he picked up the vase. "We are so about to become Hyacinth's favorites."
-
"Oh Gregory, Hyacinth! Please tell me either of you have seen or heard from Penelope?" Felicity begged. The nymph was running out of immortals to ask if they knew where her sister was. None of them had seen her. It was as if her sister had disapeared into thin air.
Portia still believed Penelope was somewhere on earth, but Felicity thought that maybe someone outside their court could have some knowledge of what happened to her sister that day. Surely if anyone could have seen her it would have been one of the two gods who were responsible for driving the sun and moon across the sky.
Hyacinth and Gregory darted a glance from each other to the wall behind Felicity, and then back at Felicity. Gregory quickly averted his eyes again while Hyacinth gathered her friend up into a hug.
"I'm sorry Litty," Hyacinth whispered into her ear.
Felicity burst into tears. "I just want my big sister to come home."
Hyacinth looked over her best friend's shoulder to the moonflowers blooming on her desk, her grip tightening on Felicity.
She hated keeping this secret, but Anthony ordered all of them not to say anything. That Colin and Penelope needed time to adjust before the next solstice where they would announce Penelope as the new Queen of the Underworld. And maybe Hyacinth was selfish but there was a part of her that hoped with Penelope's marriage to Colin Hyacinth might also regain the relationship she once had with the red-haired goddess. Things could be like when it was just her, Penelope, and Felicity. 
Everything will work out in the end. It has to if her family has any hope of opening themselves up to the kind of love their parents once shared.
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mindofasupernova · 3 years
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The Inventor Part 2
Kaz Brekker x reader
Description: A killer is on the loose, eliminating Kaz's informants. In a desperate attempt, Kaz meets a certain inventor that has his mind racing, trying to figure out the complex puzzle she is.
Hope you like it, let me know what you think.
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Kaz
A corpse? That's what she wanted? Did she think that he just kept all the bodies of his deceased workers in his room? How the hell was he supposed to get his hands on the corpse of one of his poisoned informants?
One day after meeting the young inventor, Kaz had sent Inej to gather answers to the Y/LN Manor. And just as promised, the girl had already identified most of the compounds, but due to "careless and messy manipulation", clearly referring to Kaz's pouch, she had been unable to determine a specific substance that acted as a catalyst. Inej returned to the Slat with Y/N's message asking for a meeting and a request Kaz wasn't exactly expecting.
According to Y/N, it was of the utmost importance for her to examine the body if she hoped to pinpoint the missing compound not to mention it provided a perfect opportunity for Kaz to tell her about how the poison had captured his attention.
Inej had returned later than usual, smiling and carrying a small brown bag that wafted a sweet and delicious scent. When Kaz had raised his eyebrows in question, Inej had told him Y/N had given her some recently baked cookies. He grunted in response and kept working, but his mind kept drifting back to the cookie bag and what that small act meant.
Inej was cautious but he also knew that she always searched for kindness in people. That snack could have been simply just a gift but Kaz wouldn't have made it this far if he considered all people as kind-hearted. Y/N was a stranger, a rich stranger from the highest of ranks of society who probably didn't care if Barrel rats like him lived or not. Y/N hadn't asked for a favor nor did she need money, she just wanted to know, that unsettled Kaz more than he liked to admit.
He had spent the day gathering information about her, her personal life, hobbies, and all the rumors he could find. He had found absolutely nothing that could give him an insight into the girl's intentions, he had finished empty-handed with the information he already knew: she was the only daughter of one of the richest men in Ketterdam, the perfect personification of a wealthy royal daughter, an innocent and pious little thing that went to Church with her family. Kaz scoffed at that, the defying look she gave her at their secret rendezvous accompanied with her enthusiasm for carving a corpse open proved she was far from innocent.
No, until he had more facts he wouldn't let his guard down. And yet, a small part of him yearned for her actions to be good-intentioned. Stop, hope is a dangerous thing. He had already made the mistake of hoping when he was nine and look where it got him.
Kaz returned his gaze to the papers in front of him, huffing in annoyance, he started writing down orders to get a corpse for Y/N.
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Y/N : One day after the meeting
Y/N was quietly sitting at her vanity, a soft smile adorned her face, gaze completely lost on her new device when Inej, soundlessly crept inside her bedroom.
After Kaz Brekker had left the shop near the Church of Barter, she no longer felt the giddy spark she had when she left her manor. She couldn't blame Mr. Zhang for telling Mr. Brekker about their association, he was an old jumpy man who wished no trouble upon no one. She had left all the concoctions that Mr. Zhang had order, but she didn't show him her latest joy, she no longer felt as excited.
This new invention she had come up with consisted of a music box. But it was no ordinary music box, far from it. Y/N had noticed how most of the music boxes got damaged with time when the metal rusted and the music no longer sounded like a melody but more like a haunted house. So, instead of depending on metal to play music, why not use water vapor. Yes, she had spent four days perfecting the pressure at which each piston released the water so it was a perfect copy of one of the melodies in the Komedie Brute. Four days making sure that the amount of heat the flame distributed was enough to transform the water into vapor but not so fast it was gone before the song ended. And now, here it was, a vapor-based music box with a decorative firebird in the center that literally caught fire, warming the water below.
Mind too caught up on the mechanics of her own work, that, when the Wraith materialized from the shadows behind her, Y/N sent a rain of screws and nuts toppling down the floor when Inej's hand landed on her shoulder.
Wide-eyed, Y/N turned around to face the apparition in her room. The Suli girl raised her hands, to show she intended no harm and in a kind voice spoke:
"I'm not here to hurt you. Kaz Brekker sent me to check up on your progress."
With a sigh of relief, Y/N straightened relaxed her posture. "Why, of course, should have assumed Mr. Brekker would send someone. Please, take a seat. " with a small smile, she gestured to a plush burgundy armchair.
"As promised, I have successfully identified most of the compounds. However, I fear identifying the catalyst agent won't be possible unless I conduct a thorough autopsy on the unfortunate victim. The needle I was given was in an atrocious condition, too many foreign compounds had already interacted with it." Y/N answered, finishing with a hopeful tone.
Inej nodded her head and responded, "I'll let Kaz know, thank you Marchioness Y/LN." Inej turned around, making a bee-line for the window.
"You must not be thinking of going out in this beastly weather. Please, stay until this horrendous downpour ceases." Y/N quickly called back, wrapping her silk shawl around her petite frame, as if the thought of stepping outside was enough to send a chill running down her spine.
Inej hesitated, directing a fleeting glance at the crying sky outside, she resumed to her previous seat.
"Would you like a piece of Cinamon-coated Pavlova? I guarantee you won't regret it, the caramelized peaches are sinfully appetizing!" and before the Suli girl could respond, Y/N was rushing out of her room, the dainty patter of her heels clicking down the stairs.
Her room was exactly what Inej had expected: luxurious and overly grand. But there was something about it that Inej couldn't quite place, her room was tidy to the extreme, all the expensive perfume bottles lined up, gaps between that appeared as if they had been measured with a ruler. Nothing in her room showed a preference or indication of what she truly liked, at first sight, the room would have seemed like the perfect fairytale but now, upon close observation, the room looked generic, hollow, and cold. The spy wondered if all the riches were worth living into a life as impersonal as hers.
Y/N returned, carrying a tray full of fancy desserts Inej couldn't even pronounce.
"The baker proclaims himself a master of crème brûlées. I prefer his fruit-stuffed truffles, though. Mouthwatering" Y/N commented, gingerly placing the tray on her small mahogany table.
Y/N waited for Inej to take a bite out of the coffee tiramisu, after the Suli girl let a soft hum of appreciation, Y/N smiled and questioned: "I hope I'm not being too invasive, but how did you manage to climb all the way to my window? There are no nooks where you could have possibly held onto, you must have an incredible balance to perform such a feat."
And that's how Inej told her about her life as an acrobat, proudly sharing brief glimpses to her past, seeing no harm in the girl next to her. Y/N was more than happy when Inej started talking, she was glad the bronzed-skinned girl didn't treat her with timid whispers afraid of offending her royal title. It felt nice to have a normal conversation, being able to share honest opinions instead fake smiles and condescending words at galas, afraid that if the wrong statement slipped they'll become the next party gossip.
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The morning after, Inej returned bearing Mr. Brekker's message agreeing to a nightly meeting where she'll be able to examine the corpse.
Saying that Y/N was thrilled, was an understatement, apart from a chance to put her brain to good use, it gave her the perfect opportunity to try a device she had specifically designed for creating an alibi while she was sneaking outside at unlikely hours.
Y/N hated piano. Don't get her wrong, it wasn't the instrument, it was the music, her music. Because for an unknown reason, her fingers seemed to have a mind of their own whenever she tried to. She admired the focus and dedication of musicians, she really did, but her mind easily got distracted thinking about her latest reading material instead of focusing on the notes. So, she had created a system capable of pushing the tiles as if her own fingers played the music. She knew it was wrong to fool her parents in such a way but it gave her a perfect cover to go in secret missions her parents would never approve of.
Proper ladies don't get excited over knowledge, much less probe in repulsive matters such as corpses. Look at you, Y/N, what would future suitors think if they discover you all cheerful over someone´s murder? The scandal! Zia Francesca's reprimanding voice resonated inside Y/N´s head. But she could care less about what the whole Ketterdam thought about her, science was her passion, and she would abandon it until the day she died.
Already outside, a navy blue scarf wrapped around her head to shield her delicate features against unwanted attention, Y/N waited for Inej at their chosen meeting point.
The sly girl slipped into view, with a grace greater than the one of a feline, leaving the shadows as if she and the night were one. With a brief nod, Y/N followed the girl into the awaiting hands of darkness. Leading her towards the Barrel, a place where monsters lurked behind every corner impatiently waiting to pounce any minute. Nonetheless, Y/N felt ecstatic, warm excitement pulsing through her veins, a river waiting in anticipation to break the thin modest facade she kept up to let her curiosity resurface in search of enigmas to solve.
When they arrived at a place named "The Crow Club", Inej went to get Kaz and some "others" and told her to wait. Y/N observed the lively atmosphere, seeing customers from different countries around the world when her eyes landed on a familiar head with wild red curls.
"Mr. Van Eck?" Y/N questioned in disbelief, the boy perked up at the sound of his last name, locking eyes with the hooded girl.
Never would she have imagined finding Wylan Van Eck down in the Barrel. She was shocked, Wylan supposedly should be in a music school outside of Ketterdam. Both belonging to affluent families, Y/N had met Wylan Van Eck at several parties. She hadn't gotten to know him very well, but she liked the quiet boy who shared the same look of misfortune Y/N had every time they were thrown into a classy social event. When his father had announced he was leaving to study abroad, Y/N was happy for him although she would miss being silently miserable together. But it appeared Wylan had been doing something far from studying, now sitting next to a tall Zemeni boy with his arm slung around his shoulder.
"Marchioness Y/N, I never imagined...W-What brings you here?" replied round-eyed Wylan, confusion, and astonishment written all over his features.
But before Y/N could respond, steps and the tapping of a cane interrupted their little meeting, Inej small silhouette trailing behind Mr. Brekker.
"So, you know Wylan?" he interrogated in that characteristic rasp, coffee eyes scrutinizing Y/N's form.
"Yes, Mr. Van Eck used to come to our social gatherings."
Wylan just nodded shyly while his long-limbed companion kept drowning shot like they were water.
Dirtyhands humphed in acknowledgment "Nice, know that we are all together let's go to...Jesper, I don't pay you to drink the bar dry. Get your ass down here and let's get moving so our dear inventor can examine the body, shall we?
"Wait, she is the contact you talked about?" the Zemeni, Jesper, questioned. Eyes going from Kaz Brekker to Y/N, as if this was some kind of joke.
"Wylan called her Marchioness? You asked for a royal's help?" Jesper asked, an incredulous mocking smile on his face. "Who are you and what have you done with Kaz?"
Mr. Brekker scowled at him and without another word turned around not even waiting for them to follow.
"Well, nice to meet you, my lady. The name's Jesper Fahey," he said, bowing down and kissing her hand, sending her a mischievous wink.
"Very nice to make your acquaintance, Mr. Fahey. And please, there's no need for formalities, just call me Y/N." she comforted, as they finally reached the others. Glancing at the rest while finishing her last statement, prompting the rest to call her by her first name.
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Kaz
Y/N radiated waves of elation, her whole face lighting up at the thought of an adventure, a star amid the tumultuous dark waters of Ketterdam helping him find his way to the shore.
Kaz wore an amused expression at Y/N's amused gaze roaming the dirty streets of the Barrel, a new unknown world full of carnage and sins. She isn't fit for the Barrel thought Kaz, her eyes dancing in amusement at every little detail that caught her interest despite her efforts to put on a serious face and regal posture. She probably saw wonderous adventures while Kaz saw the Barrel for what it really was: a ravenous, savage beast waiting to swallow the weakest whole and drain the lives of the ones who survived its ghastly bites. And somehow the concept that she didn't belong in this world, his world, made Kaz's heart wrenched a little.
During their walk, Kaz shared the details about the latest killer on the loose and his dead informants, all the while, Y/N remained quiet, evaluating every one of his words.
When they arrived at an abandoned building, a single man was stationed outside, leaning on the tainted wall with a tired look in his eyes. Kaz nodded at the guard who gave him a set of keys and trotted out of sight. Kaz guided them inside, careful no prying eyes had followed them. Kaz turned on the lights, briefly disconcerting his companions, and pointed to a table with a big bulk covered by a dirty cloth.
"As you requested, the unfortunate victim" announced Kaz as Y/N placed a small suitcase she'd brought with her forensic equipment and tenderly pried the cloth covering the thing that once had been alive.
Y/N didn't bat an eyelash when she saw the corpse's face, not even when Jesper started gagging or when Inej turned around and started quietly mumbling prayers to her saints. Kaz focused on her face, the calm inquisitive look of a scientist, he had expected a gasp at least. Kaz was impressed by her cool analytical demeanor when a simple glimpse of the man was enough to send Kaz back to the ocean, rotting flesh beneath his fingertips. Kaz shuddered at the thought, forcing down the vomit rising in his throat.
"If you need an assistant, Jesper is willing to help" Kaz stated, stabilizing his voice so it wouldn't show his true feelings.
"What?! Me? Umm..no...I...Helping isn't a Jesper talent." Mr. Fahey said, a fearful look in his eyes, face white as a sheet. Kaz hoped he didn't look as terrified as him.
Y/N stopped her scan, looked up at the two boys, and with a small smile spoke: "I appreciate it, but there's no need. I'm certain I can handle it on my own."
Quickly discarding her coat and scarf, pushing back the sleeves of her rouge-colored blouse, and pulling long laboratory gloves over her hands along with a white apron over her head, she set up to work.
Kaz stared at her features, as she transformed into an eager forensic, light illuminating her face, falling in the right places giving her an otherwordly glow. Rebellious strands of hair framing her forehead, a pink hue staining her cheeks indicating her joyous state. The sight before him would have put any masterpiece to shame, Kaz wondered how she could stare at a corpse and find glee in such a morbid image. But Kaz liked it, the brilliant gleam her eyes portrayed, her childish joy at the promise of adventure.
The spell was broken when she started pulling out scalpels, syringes, and other items Dirtyhands couldn't bother to learn the name of. Pulling the flesh taught beneath her fingers, Y/N made a Y incision, skin splaying open.
Cold lifeless hands gripped Kaz's throat. his brother's icy whispers brushing his skin. He turned his head away and as if perceiving his discomfort, Y/N's bewitching doe eyes stared back at him.
"You can wait outside if you prefer to, I'll notify you when I'm done." her gentle voice reached and Kaz couldn't have been more grateful.
With a sharp shake of his head, Kaz limped towards the exit, Jesper, and Inej quickly following his movements.
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After Y/N finished, she eagerly started explaining her findings, a prideful gleam emanating from her.
"Well, Mr. Brekker I must admit this case is a peculiar one. The simplest ones always prove to be the most challenging."
"Here I thought that after years of fancy tea reunions you'd know the meaning of a vast number of words. I'll be sure to buy you a thesaurus." mocked Kaz, a wolfish smirk creeping onto his face.
The inventor frowned at his comment, racing her chin higher, and started her rant, thoughts racing to prove her point.
"Oh no, Mr. Brekker do not confuse simple and easy. Simple is straightforward, plain facts to the observer. Ordinary details are hard to pinpoint, effortlessly found everywhere, which makes it harder to find unique characteristics that could serve as means of identification since their nature is so elementary." Y/N spoke swiftly, pacing around the room, eyes never faltering from Kaz's.
"And that's exactly what happened in this case. As I had mentioned, my extraction wasn't entirely successful, for an essential reactant was missing. However, it wasn't the only reason why I insisted on examining the body, no, a very simple and ordinary substance appeared when I separated the poison: Helianthus annuus or more commonly known as sunflowers." Y/N paused glancing at their surprised faces, clearly pleased with their reactions, she continued, the corners of her lips tugging upwards.
"You can imagine my surprise when I found sunflower pollen as the main component of the poisonous agent. I ran several more tests and the result remains the same, our killer is using these lovely flowers as a weapon. Now, back to the catalyst, the easy part of the equation. This component isn't as fastidious as the previous one, why, you may ask. Well, its vast majority consists of average materials but a small percentage of it contains alloys that are only produced in Ketterdam, that combined with the peculiar way they were fused, suggests a Grisha alkemi made this solution." Y/N concluded, grabbing a piece of paper and hastily writing before she handed it to Kaz.
"There are no signs of struggle, meaning either they knew the attacker or they were taken by surprise. A swift prick to the femoral artery, a clear pathway for the poison to reach the bloodstream, infecting the body within seconds."
"It shouldn't be very hard to find the alkemi. They aren't very popular and most of them are indentured. Here is the list of all the reactants, the specifics, and where I believe you might find them. " finished the girl, looking at the trio expectantly.
"If you don't mind, I have taken a sample to examine more carefully at my house. I'll try to find any details I might have overlooked."
Briskly reading the list, Kaz frowned and then pocketed the small scrap of paper. "First thing tomorrow morning, ask around for an alkemi who might have bought these materials. "
Kaz turned to look at his fellow crows, content with their nods of approval, grabbed his cane, and sauntered towards the door. Her chemistry knowledge was astounding, a marvelous domain of anatomy, and an even more gifted engineer from what he had heard. Hers was an indeed beautiful mind, not that he would ever tell her.
"Mr. Brekker?" her light voice shattered through the gloomy night. Kaz craned his neck, gaping back at her in question.
"Is there perhaps a place where I might be able to tidy myself up?" Y/N questioned, Kaz finally looking at her messy red-stained apron and her exposed arms displaying strokes of red all over them.
Kaz hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should bring the girl back to their home. "You can use the restroom back at the Slat." The girl had risked her reputation sneaking out on ill-advised affairs to help them, it was the least he could do.
"Thank you" Y/N replied as she carefully peeled her apron, attentive at not brushing her arms against her blouse.
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Once she had freshened up, Y/N stumbled upon the young Van Eck talking with a couple. The green-eyed girl was about Y/N's age, a generously carved complexion, holding the hand of a tall Fjerdan.
Y/N inclined her head as a form of salute, "I never pegged you for the rebellious type, Mr. Van Eck. I never thought you hated music lessons that much to run away." she told him in a joking tone.
"And I never thought you were the type to sneak out at ungodly hours just to play detective. " Wylan replied, a grin beginning to form on his face.
"Well, I suppose everyone has secrets."
"You must be Y/N, Inej told me you were the help Kaz so desperetly needed. I'm Nina, he's Matthias and well you already know Wylan."
"It's a pleasure to meet you." Inej had briefly mentioned them, she knew now that Nina loved food, maybe next time she'll bring those exquisite truffles she had so eagerly talked about. If there is a next time Y/N reminded herself, she desperately hoped so, but now that her work was done she wasn't so sure Kaz Brekker would ever seek her again.
"Well, you have saved me the introductions." Kaz sarcastically glowered at the green-eyed girl, Nina kept talking as if she hadn't heard him.
It was one thing for Kaz to admire her intelligence, it did not mean he trusted her, though. Pieces were still missing to the intricate puzzle she was and until that changed Kaz did not like the way she rapidly befriended his crows, her intentions were still blurry to Kaz, and even though he would never admit it he cared deeply about their well-being.
"You should stay a little longer, we could go for waffles as a way of thank you." prompted Nina.
"Your offer is very tempting, but I'm afraid I'll have to pass. I should be returning home." Y/N declined, grinning at Nina, blissful someone had invited her for waffles.
Kaz stared at her and wondered how many times someone had done something similar, not to thank her but rather to use her, so that such a simple gesture put her in a joyful state.
"Scared of what your parents may do if they found out the truth?" Kaz quipped once his crows had left the two of them alone. A teasing tone masking true concern.
"Terrified. Someone may notice I've been playing the same four songs for the last couple of hours, always missing the same notes every time and they might get ideas of checking up on me," she confessed, mischief coating her features.
"Good night, Mr. Brekker. I'm happy I could be of assistance. Please, let me know if you find your killer or if my experience is needed again."
Kaz just bowed, signaling for his Wraith to get Y/N back to her manor in one piece.
Both girls disappeared into the night, leaving Kaz pondering what the hell she had meant with playing the piano.
___________
Y/N
Almost two weeks had passed, no signs of Kaz and no visits from the Wraith, well not that she was aware of. Y/N caught herself glaring at no point in particular, she readjusted her expression and plastered a well-practiced look of keen interest, trying to focus on Lady Stathos' rant about the attractiveness of the Viscount of Chagny.
Y/N politely excused herself, with no intention of making a fool of herself if Lady Stathos posed a question related to her gossip.
Too busy drowning in her own sorrow, knowing that Kaz had probably captured the culprit and was happily celebrating his success and no longer needing Y/N's help, that she stumbled forward, barely catching herself when someone bumped her from behind.
When Y/N turned back around, searching for that someone, she was met with a sight she had only seen once in an abandoned warehouse late at night. One that made her mind scream: Helianthus annuus.
Mercher Dupont's eyes were deranged, veins gruesomely popping and blood spilling from his lips, before toppling in the middle of the dance floor, taking his final breath.
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jesslockwood · 3 years
Text
rakes | chapter two
pairing: regency!Harrison Osterfield x regency!reader
words: 2.1k 
warnings:  bridgerton s1 spoilers, swearing, mentions of sex
a/n: this took me forever to write because i wrote the ending ish and I have even the whole end part planned out lmao. now I just need to write up to it lmao. 
Please Reblog and Like if you enjoy!
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You awoke startled, sweaty, and with tears streaming down your face. It had been from a nightmare, of your first season’s debut. You knew that things could not go as horribly wrong that night did, yet, you were afraid deep down it might. 
You could never forget the piercing scream that rang through your body as you watched helplessly, your worst unknown nightmare becoming real in front of you, and being able to do nothing for your parents. 
After sitting in your bed for what seemed like hours, you decided to get dressed at the start making a list of what you had to do in haste to get ready for the season’s rush.
There was so much to do and so little time, so you knew one worry could be put at ease if you planned it all out. At least then your mind would hopefully quiet down the thoughts in your head. 
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Sitting near the window with it open, you watched the sunrise, wondering how your dear William was doing. You had left hastily, not even with a goodbye to him. It was too painful to be in Grosvenor square where all your fondest memories had been with your deceased parents. He was of course in those fond memories, yet it was too painful as you saw your father in him, and the man he became because of your father being a parental figure to him.
You wondered how he was handling being the earl, especially without the guidance or help of anyone. Especially since your presence is missing. You wrote to him all the time, yet he had no return address to send it to so you knew not much of how your dearest sibling was doing.
You knew not much of duty of being a man and running an estate and the burden weighed on society of being an earl, yet you knew the pressures and gossip and betrayal all too much so you knew it could not have been easy. 
You only wished as much that you could have stayed for William, yet you knew your body would not let you stay as the fear would crawl into your bones, rotting you into some sort of insane spinster. 
You stretched your body out after sitting for too long on the uncomfortable chair, deciding it was time to head on out- “the earlier the better”- you thought.
As soon as you stepped out into the hall you had turned, and collided with a strong torso, almost falling to the ground. Strong arms had caught you before you took a nasty spill. 
“Pardon me-” you whispered quietly, as you then realized the close proximity of you and the man that had caught you, his face very close to your own. 
He looked disheveled slightly, with his golden locks out of place slightly, and a small amount of dusting of freckles that adorned his face. His icy blue eyes had been staring into yours, almost too cold to even look into, yet you felt a sense of curiosity to capture the color of them in your mind. You also had noticed the closeness of your bodies in this very moment, almost too scandalous to even think of in society’s ton. 
“Apologies, Miss.,” he said with a slightly crooked smile that could make any woman melt at this moment. 
He helped you regain your balance on your own two feet, before heading towards the stairs, giving you a lopsided smile again, nodding at you, and went downstairs.
You were almost too stunned to move from the interaction. You had never been as close as that to a man in your life. It gave you a small chill down your spine, even thinking about him, the mystery man. 
You were pulled out of your thoughts when your maid, Lucy, was walking out of the adjacent room to yours. 
“Madam, shall I fetch the carriage?” she asks you politely, suddenly snapping you out of your entranced state. 
“Yes, we should get going.”
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Arriving at the Bridgeton home was, interesting to say the least, in a good way. It had been around noon, after your stop at the modiste, picking up dresses for the most -well- dreaded season, and you had been welcomed by most of the Bridgerton ladies in the drawing-room, embraced by Violet, asking for your time heading to their home. It was quite a shock as the chaos yet love could be felt in the room, as whom you were assuming the two youngest were arguing of some hair ribbon, and two of the other elder brothers of Daphne’s were in some heated debate about god knows what, and one sister was writing in a journal of some sort as the other played the pianoforte. 
“Welcome dear, to our home. I apologize in advance for the chaos, we are getting ready for Elosie’s first season, and our masquerade ball.”
“No need to apologize, Lady Bridgerton. Thank you for letting me stay until William gets in tomorrow. I just couldn’t stay in the house alone.”
“Please call me Violet! And any friend of my family is welcome here. Children, This is Lady Y/L/N.”
“If I am to call you Violet I insist you all call me Y/n” she smiles warmly towards you, “Eloise, could you please show Y/n to her room, I’m sure she is but tired from her journey.”
She comes out of her trance of writing responding to her mother, “Of course Mama.”
As you walk out of the drawing-room with her she looks as if she’s in deep thought. 
“I have so many questions to ask of you! How were you able to travel? I only thought men such as my brother could do so, yet here you are!”
“Well when my parents passed, I just- well, couldn’t stay here, so I ventured off with what my bro- erm, cousin, William had given to me. I went to visit some other cousins in France and had gone off to other parts of Europe. It was better than I had ever imagined. But now my duty is to my family, and the adventure has stopped, for now at least.”
You had stopped walking when you reached a door, that you assumed was your room.  
“That is incredible, I shall wait to ask more of you, later on of course.”
“Why don’t you show me the grounds and I shall tell you more, right now, and you can tell me about yourself, Eloise.”
Her face lit up.
“I would quite enjoy that!”
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After walking around their grounds, you had sat on the swings on a tree, telling her all about your adventures, and she told you about herself and even told you quite a bit about Lady Whistledown and her venture in trying to find the writer behind the pen. It had been a few hours, probably nearing dinner time, but you felt at ease with Eloise. At least, you knew you had a friend in her, that hated society almost as much as you,
“I cannot believe you went in the ocean on the beach! Most ladies here would assume it unlady-like!”
“Well, I am especially not one for lady-like behavior! Especially structured by vicious mamas!” you both laugh together at that comment. Oh how you both knew of the shocking behavior of the ton’s mamas. 
“I believe we should head in now, Dinner will soon be ready, and I can only assume you are starving since we only had biscuits earlier.”
You both get up stretching your legs lightly, before heading indoors. 
You felt warmth sitting at the dinner table, though not typical, it felt like they truly loved each other, and actually enjoyed each other as a family, something you had longed for from your own family, especially for William’s sake.
William had never felt like he belonged in your family, at least not fully. The warmth you and your parents tried to give to him almost did not get through his thick skull, that you had accepted him as an esteemed member of the family. You had always wondered if it was because his true father never accepted him until he needed him to fulfill his wants. 
“So, Y/n are you excited for the season?” Anthony cuts through his current conversation, to include you. 
“Probably something of the sort. I am quite intrigued to see how people have changed.”
“Well, most have not, especially the men.” 
You laughed slightly at that. 
“Well do tell whom to stay away from.” you joke.
“If you have not read the most recent lady Whistledown I assume you don’t know.”
“I’m not quite sure I’ve ever heard of a Lady Whistledown?” you question, curiosity getting to the best of you. 
“Lady Whistledown is a gossip writer, under a pen name, whom, however, mentions people in the ton in name, by name in full.” Eloise cuts in.
You raise a brow quizzically. That was unheard of. 
“She mentions you in her most recent edition” Hyacinth mentions, before going back to throwing peas strategically when her mother wasn’t looking at her brother Gregory.  
“I’m sure Eloise has it if she hasn’t already shown you.” now you were fully intrigued. There was truly only one main thing you thought the writer could write about.
“She wrote about Lord Holland today, and might I say he is pretty dreamy.” Francesca pipes up, before earnings glare from Anthony and a kick from Eloise.
“Ow!” 
“If I didn’t do it, Anthony would have and he kicks harder.” 
You giggle at the family’s interactions. You only hoped you could have one as close as the Bridgertons.
“I see we are quite the entertainment for our guest tonight. I guess there’s no need for Eloise to get on the pianoforte. God knows I’m in motion for that.” Benedict adds before earning a kick from Eloise as well. 
“Ow!”
“Back to the topic at hand, I’d stay away from Benedict for certain.” Eloise says, which erupts you five into a fit of giggles, before getting your end of the table gets a hard stare-down from Violet, almost as if to say ‘behave’.
“So I'm assuming other than Daphne missing, the letter C, Colin, must be the one travelling? Daph did mention he would be writing me asking about the best places to travel.”
“Yes, Colin is the one travelling, but was the letter system too obvious of whom is which?” Benedict asks in an amused manner. 
“I think it’s adorable, and if you must know I find it orderly.”
“Don’t tell my mother that, or she won’t stop talking about how ‘Lady Y/n complimented her naming system’.” Benedict jokes.
You laugh before you see Eloise bringing out what you assumed was the gossip sheet. She hands it to you before you read it over, turning slightly pale at the mentions of your family so intimately.
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Harrison had made it into town earlier that afternoon, only to be wondering why Mama’s, and Ladies alike- married or not- had been whispering and pointing at him. On the other hand, he had been met with a warm embrace from his wonderful sister Charlotte, and loving Mother, Phil, only to be dragged by Charlotte for her to tell him to read the latest Lady Whistledown, a woman he knew he hadn’t heard of, nevertheless thought he’d fucked. 
He however listened to his sister and her worry, before being shell-shocked by what was on the page. 
“Charlotte what the hell is this? And who the hell wrote it?"
“Lady Whistledown is but the biggest anonymous gossip columnist, and everyone reads it. Haz what am I to do if no suitors show interest when I am eligible for marriage? What if I end up a spinster?!”
“Char, I won’t let that happen I promise you.”
Harrison was determined to make sure charlotte never had to worry. She was the most lovely of any woman on the market and he would make sure she had a shot. 
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“Wait Osterfield, you’re saying, you’ll Woo whoever is the most desired by the queen and marry her?” Tom askes very confusedly as to what sparked this in his bestfriend.
“Yes Tom, That is my plan,” Harrison replies before taking a sip of his drink again.
The two men had reunited at the Bridgerton’s gentleman club, talking over Harrison’s not so genius plan, according to Tom.
“Do you know how many mamas loathe even the sight of you right now? Especially because of Lady Whistledown.” Harrison’s face scrunches up, cringing at that. 
“Yes, I know already. But if I can just get in the good graces of Lady Whistledown, then I know any mama will turn around! maybe if I form an attachment with someone she might see that I’m serious about marrying. Don’t you have that cousin? Zendaya?”
“That’s a terrible idea, Harrison. Also, Zendaya is now going to be under my care according to my mother. She told her father, who is ill,  I’d watch out for her during the season to find her a suitable husband.”
Harrison gets a mischievous, conniving look on his face as the gears turn in his brain. “I said suitable Haz! Her father would have a heart attack if you came near her!”
“Fine, but can you at least convince her to show interest in me to the other ladies? So I can find a wife?”
Tom rolls his eyes before downing his drink mentally hating the idea, but agreeing to try for his almost brother,  even if he didn’t think he’d find a wife.
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Prompt — being jealous! not to the point of it being unhealthy, just a moderate amount of cute jealously, in which their partner just laughs it off and gives them a kiss
Michael being jealous of someone with Frankie 🥰
okay so this has nothing to do with what you asked and i apologize but my brain does whatever she wants. i might fuck around and write jealous!michael at some point but for now have this absolute mess:
franchel + cute jealously.
It was ridiculous, really. Michael liked kids. He understood kids. One could even say he got along with kids. In his many years on Earth, he had yet to find a person of any size, gender or height that didn’t fall for his charm and taunting perfect smile. Even the husbands of the women he had slept with in the past ended up warming up to him. Just like the wives of the men he had taken to his bedroom. To a certain degree, everyone found him irresistible.
The Cranes, apparently, were the exception.
And it was driving him insane.
“I have tried everything, Frannie!” He protested, plopping on the grass next to his very amused girlfriend. “They hate me.”
It didn’t make things any easier for him than from minute one the twins had been attached to Francesca’s legs. They were dragged by her like magnets. And, although he understood Francesca Bridgerton’s appeal better than anyone, it was about to cross the line from endearing to infuriating.
If only they would just share their affections with him!
Francesca raised a brow just as she added the last flower to the flower crown she had been working on. “Michael Stirling, womanizer extraordinaire, casanova's best pupil, having trouble earning the favor of two kids? The world must be coming to an end.”
Perfect, now she was taunting him. And even worse, she was having fun. He would recognize that twinkling in her eyes anywhere. His stomach fluttered - it was always nice to see his Frannie happy. Even if said happiness came at his own expense.
He groaned and let his back hit the grass dramatically.
“You are so mean to me, Frannie! One would think it turns you on.”
-----------
“Aunt Frannie, Aunt Frannie! Can you play a song for us?”
“Auntie Frannie, Auntie Frannie!! Can you read us a book?”
“Aunt Frannie, Aunt Frannie! Can we bake a cake?”
“Can we go feed the animals?”
“Can we play pirates?”
Michael Stirling was a patient man but he was two seconds away from losing his cool. It had been three days and the twins still refused to acknowledge his presence. And he was starting to feel a bit left out.
All his attempts to approach them seemed to be quickly shut down. And the worst thing was that he could feel the smugness radiating from Francesca every single time. She was enjoying herself and Michael was regretting agreeing to this trip more and more with each passing day. He liked Eloise just fine and Philip was a cool dude but the idea of not seeing them again for the next ten years was becoming very appealing.
Had he mentioned that he had been banned from touching his girlfriend? Or rather, he had been banned from coming close to her.
Whenever he tried to make a move on Francesca, one of the twins interrupted. It was like they had a radar. If Michael managed to corner her against the wall for a quick make out session before dinner, one of the twins screamed for attention from one of the other rooms. If he tried to sneak into the bathroom to shower with her, suddenly there was incessant knowing on their bedroom door. Even at the table, his usual seat by her side had been replaced by one in front of her, since both Oliver and Amanda insisted on sitting at each side of their Auntie Frannie.
That was too much for him.
And yet he could not help but find it endearing.
He blamed his total devotion for the second youngest Bridgerton woman for the total mess he had become. No matter how little or big, everything Francesca did send him into a frenzy. Even the most casual of scenes had his stomach fluttering. And simple things like their fingers brushing against each other still sent electricity down his spine.
Frannie was on the couch when he entered the room, one sleeping child curled up in her lap and another one snuggled to her side, her fingers trading their hair lovingly. And the peace and contentedness he saw reflected on her face made his heart skip a beat.
Careful to not make noise, he made his way to one of the armchairs and leaned against the back. “Remind me to never agree to one of your ideas ever again, mo chridhe (my heart).”
Francesca, who had been staring at the sleeping child on her lap with so much longing it hurt, raised her head to look up at him with a smirk. “Are you jealous, Mister Stirling?”
He shook his head with a huff. The motion reminded Francesca so much of a little kid that she couldn’t help but chuckle. It only made his frown deepen. “They are monopolizing all your affections!”
Francesca snorted, the air coming through her nose making her neigh. The movement of her body made the small child in her lap stir a bit. “Someone didn’t learn how to share his toys as a kid.”
Michael’s whole face lit up at that, his infamous wicked smile making a stellar entrance. He walked over to her, leaning in to capture her lips in a sweet yet pressing kiss. “I don’t share what’s mine.” His words a sweet whisper against her ear. The desire in his voice sent shivers down Francesca’s spine.
It took her a hot second to recover.
“I may have to start teaching you how to share.”
Michael grinned, brushing his nose against hers. “I could be persuaded to share your love but only with someone half you, half me.”
And just like that Francesca was left speechless.
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simsroyallegacy · 3 years
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Anissa Crawford Speaks Out: That B*tch is Crazy!
Last night Lady Anissa Crawford, a Lunarian socialite best known for her stint as girlfriend to the teenaged Prince Nicky, broke her silence on her experiences with Princess Isadora of Castille. She gave an interview to famous late night talk show host Francesca Valentine, giving an in depth look into the early signs of Isadora’s troublesome behavior. The interview drew in millions of viewers to Late Night Tea with Francesca and started the trending hashtags #TheWickedWitch and #BurnIsadora after Lady Anissa let loose how the younger Castillian Princess would send people to harass the young socialite during her relationship with the Crown Prince. View the full interview under the cut!
Francesca Valentine (FV): Now that we’re back from the break, here’s the moment you’ve all been waiting for this evening my dear viewers! Tonight’s special guest is a socialite we all know and love to hate, a woman who has dabbled in fashion design, modeling, and dating very wealthy men: Lady Anissa Crawford!
The audience bursts into applause as Lady Anissa walks onto the stage and seats herself across from Francesca.
Anissa Crawford (AC): Thank you so much for having me Francesca, I’ve always been a big fan of the show!
FV: It’s a pleasure to have you here, Anissa, though it feels like you’re always on my show one way or another.
AC: *laughs* Well, I’m always happy to give you something to talk about, dear!
FV: *smiling* Tonight you asked for this to be the platform from which you speak of events kept as secrets you’ve held close to your heart for many years now, correct?
AC: Yes. I’ve kept quiet all these years on the advice from my parents and lawyers but now that some of the truth has come out about Isadora I feel like I should share my experiences with her, if only to give the people a better understanding of what poor Nicky must have gone through and by extension Princess Minerva.
FV: It’s so brave of you to do this, Anissa, truly. Let’s start with having you explain how exactly you started your relationship with the Crown Prince?
AC: Nicky and I met at a Hartfordshire Academy sports event when we were both in our junior year of high school. I attended Hartfordshire’s sister school, an all girl’s private academy right across the street from the boys. We would rarely be allowed to interact with each other anywhere but sports events were always the exception.
FV: So you caught his eye?
AC: Actually, I started talking with one of his good friends at the time, Jack Pierson. I thought Jack was cute and wanted to get closer to him and so I started hanging out with his friends which included Nicky. Anyways, long story short Nicky and I got to be friends before we started dating; we actually didn’t realize we liked each other until he invited me on his birthday trip to Selvadorada.
FV: Correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t Princess Isadora on that trip as well?
AC: She was. Everyone who went on that trip were Nicky’s closest friends and family at the time. Prince Gabriel, her older brother, had been his childhood best friend since before they turned eleven. He’s always been close to him and Isadora – he treated her like his own sister.
FV: What were your first impressions of her at that time?
AC: The moment she realized I was a part of the trip – before Nicky and I even got together on it – she was glaring at me and complaining to her brother about an “outsider” travelling with them. She made several passive aggressive comments about that childish nickname jealous little girls gave me back in my teens: “Easy-A”. 
FV: What did HRH say about it? Didn’t he defend you against her?
AC: He pulled me aside and told me not to take it personally, that she did this to everyone who came into their circle of friends. Nicky pitied her because of her family situation, you see, and explained part of it to me. I pitied her too after that.
FV: Oh? Care to share?
AC: I don’t think I will, sorry, but that stuff was personal to the Castillian Royal family and I’m not comfortable airing the entire family’s dirty laundry to the world. Just know that she had a seriously messed up childhood and started taking it out on others. I tried not to let her hostile behavior get the best of me on that trip but when Nicky and I announced we were a couple she started to escalate her vicious attitude.
FV: How so?
AC: When no one was looking she’d trip me up, spill things on me, hide my things; those were just petty little kid things, honestly, and didn’t bother me too much. It was when she stole my phone and texted my parents the nastiest things – she was calling my mom wh*re and b*tch and even told my father that “I” had found out about an affair my mom was having with her assistant! – they both were so angry with me! What nobody knows about that trip is the fact that my father had me sent home early because of the cheating accusation.
FV: Was there any truth to it?
AC: Absolutely not! But at the time he honestly thought it was something I had told him in confidence, he had brought all of my siblings and my mom together for a dramatic family meeting where they started fighting over it. I had tried to tell them that it wasn’t me who said those things, that it was all a lie from that little brat but neither of them believed me. 
FV: What happened during after that?
AC: My parents thought I was acting out for attention and sent me to therapy. Funnily enough, it really helped me focus on my home life and school, which were things I didn’t care too much about back then. It even ended up bringing me closer to Nicky, who was so, so supportive to me during that time. Nobody ever believed me that Isadora was the one who was using my phone to “grab attention” from my parents though.
FV: Was that the only time you had contact with her? Or were there other incidents over the years?
AC: There were tons of situations where she would straight up shove me – she even “accidentally” caused me to fall down a flight of stairs at an event I had gone to with Nicky! I ended up only spraining my ankle but that was seriously messed up of her to do – she’s obviously had a homicidal streak in her for years. It’s honestly not a surprise to me that she’s behind the attempted assassination of Princess Minerva.
AC: She would also follow Nicky around all. the. time. Honest to Watcher, she was stalking him. She’d make sure to fly out to Lunaria every weekend to see him and would become furious when he didn’t include her in his plans. She would guilt trip him constantly into inviting her along on our “dates” and when it got to the point where I’d become angry with him over it he’d pull the “she’s like my sister” card and say he’ll make it up to me.
FV: And did he make it up to you?
AC: Honestly? Yes. He was an attentive boyfriend, despite the weekly Isadora interruptance. He always knew how to make me laugh, was patient when I had my infamous diva moments, got along great with my family, and really pushed me to be better. He also bought me some pretty great gifts. *laughs*
FV: The public was in an outrage over his spending habits for your gifts, no?
AC: *snickers* He did know how to spoil a girl.
FV: If you were getting along so well, how did it all fall apart?
AC: After Nicky and I went to separate universities, we kind of took a break.
FV: Kind of?
AC: We still had every intention of getting back together in the end, but I wanted to be free during my college experience and I thought he wanted the same. He ended up rooming with Gabriel and of course Isadora constantly came around under the pretense of “visiting her big brother”.
FV: Is that sarcasm I’m detecting from you Anissa?
AC: Damn straight. I don’t know exactly what happened but she got her claws into him. Made him think I had been cheating on him for our whole relationship, – I still believe it was her who was feeding the press “exclusive” interviews about my Easy–A behavior – she also fed him lies that I was just using him for his money. 
FV: You were constantly asking him for things though...
AC: I never asked him for much more than his love and time. He bought everything he knew I enjoyed because that’s the type of person he is. He’d give the entire world to the person he loves the most if he can, that’s what makes him such a great partner. I don’t know how Isadora poisoned his mind against me like that, it’s like she was a witch or something *laughs*.
FV: *laughing* Well, she’s certainly wicked!
AC: The last straw for me was after his graduation from UBrite when those photos of him and Isadora were published. I had traveled out to see him at the home he had been given as a graduation gift, hoping to talk things over with him and see if we could salvage or relationship but...*sighs*
FV: But what?
AC: Let’s just say it was too late for us. He began dating Isadora openly after we split and I vaguely remember saying some seriously nasty things when I was cornered about our split. I feel terrible for implying that Nicky was such a selfish man, that he was only with her to “get it out of his system”. He truly loved her then, I know that. He had always loved her to some degree, platonically as children and romantically after we grew into adults. I was devastated to hear about those abuse rumors – he didn’t deserve that, no one does, ever. I’m so happy she’s been exposed for what she is: a crazy b*tch. I hope they catch her soon.
FV: Will you be reaching out to HRH now that his eyes have been opened to Isadora’s evil ways? Is there a chance you could rekindle your romance?
AC: *laughing* Dear Watcher, no! That chapter of my life is over and I’ve fallen for someone else.
FV: Oh? Who is the lucky guy?
AC: *smirks* Oh Francesca, I don’t kiss and tell. Maybe you’ll see us together on my Simstagram someday...
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hunflowers · 4 years
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Femme Fatale
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Word Count: 7.3k
Requested? Nope, but you always can here :)
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A/N: I hope you enjoy my rendition of mafia!Harry bc I lowkey do not. Enjoy the smut and maybe leave some feedback when you’re done! *nose boops*
part 2 :)
The rivalry went back decades.
Growing up, they had no choice but to hate each other. It was practically in their blood because that’s how their ancestors were towards one another.
Besides, they tried the whole friendship thing when they were children, and it didn’t even work out then. Simply at first because their families forbade it. But they soon realized how annoying the other was as the years went on. And how badly they wish they could just strangle one another because that would be easier than ever becoming friendly.
It all started with their great-grandfathers, as most old rivalry stories do. They once worked in unison, in harmony as coworkers, cofounders, and friends. Once poor, they rose to the top as a team. But, when money started to become more prevalent, so did the truth of their relationship. They both wanted seniority, to run the business as a King rather than as a team. So, when heads were clashing and neither of them could bring themselves to kill the other, they did the only thing left, and split the business.
And from that point on, peace no longer existed.
Not only did the two men hate each other, but all of their workers started to hate the opposing side. No one thought there could be two leading imports in the city, because the city just wasn’t big enough for both egos. But even though chaos ensued ever since the split, people could say peace was also created. Because everyone was afraid to start a war they couldn’t finish. So, even though there were the casual breakouts and fights, nothing too major ever happened to the point where the city would practically cave in.
Except for now that is. Because Harry and Y/N hated each other that much. Everyone was afraid the other would snap soon and that could only lead to destruction.
Of course, the pair like to think they have it under control, but in reality, one wrong word spoken and the other is as good as dead.
People wondered who the Hell left them in charge because they were some of the most hot headed people to have ever walked this planet. But, in reality they really weren’t left a choice but to run the companies.
Harry’s father was never too into the whole business. Yeah, he got the job done but it wasn’t his first choice career wise. And seeing as he was an only child, he was left no choice but to stay in charge until Harry was ready. And the second he saw that Harry was mature enough for this responsibility, he immediately passed the throne down to him, thankful to have that weight off his shoulders.
As for Y/N, her father wanted her to have nothing to do with the business because it wasn’t a woman’s responsibility. He was thinking of handing the leadership down to his nephew, because he had always looked up to Y/N’s dad and had dreamed of being in charge one day. Of course, she found the whole ordeal ridiculous because the job was meant for her, and no one else.
Y/N was the eldest of her siblings, neither of them being boys. So, when the time would come the company had no choice but to fall in her hands. And even though the time came a lot quicker than she anticipated, she was beyond ready to take on the responsibility. Just a few days past her twenty-first birthday, Y/N’s father had died of a heart attack that was completely unwarranted. He took excellent care of his health, so to say it was a surprise was an understatement. But, even though the company sprung up on her, she prepared most of her life to be in charge and she wasn’t going to let her father down.
Despite Harry’s many attempts to prove her wrong and that she’d be a failure at running things, she would actually prove him wrong time and time again because products exported smoothly and income imported even smoother. And what she makes in a week is generally what he makes every month.
So, she’s doing pretty good she thinks.
But they did try to be friends once. When they were eleven, they shared a few of the same friends so their paths always crossed. So they decided they wouldn't be hostile towards one another because that was the rest of their family, not them. Fast forward to the age of twelve, and Harry and Y/N nearly get in a fist fight due to Harry hurting Y/N’s best friend, and Y/N doing the same to his.
Clearly, history would repeat itself and thus the two joined their families in hating the other.
That led them to where they are now, thirteen years later, and still a lot of hatred in the air.
Albeit, there was the rare occurrence of sexual tension in the air too but they choose not to dwell on that.
It was a one night thing. They were both completely plastered, and they hardly even remember it happening. Of course they tell different stories of that night, and it actually drew them farther apart, but again, they choose to not think about it at all.
It was only a one time thing.
But today. . . today really solidified their ongoing rivalry. Y/N was awoken this morning by the loud shrill of her ringtone blasting in her dark bedroom. She was tempted to not answer it because everyone knew not to call her so early in the morning, but then again, everyone knew not to call her so early in the morning so it must only be an emergency.
And it was the news on the other line that broke her heart and had Y/N flying out of her bed faster than light travelled. Earlier that morning, her youngest sister, Serena, was found in the bathroom of the local club, knocked unconscious whilst her clothes were nearly ripped to shreds. She had been drugged, raped, and stripped of her dignity and Y/N felt responsible. This ache in her chest was prominent because she felt it was her fault for some reason.
After their father’s passing, Serena had gone off the rails for a little while. She took it especially hard because even though all three of his daughters were his babies, Serena being the youngest was his special baby, and she found it very difficult to cope with the loss. So, when Serena did a little too much of experimenting with drugs or drinking, Y/N knew taking care of her baby sister was her main priority.
Hearing the news that her sister had been violated, Y/N couldn’t help but take it to heart. She hardly cared about the outfit she was wearing or what state her hair was in when she arrived at the hospital, all she wanted was to get to her sister.
When she entered her room, she was greeted by her mother and her other sister, Francesca, or Franny for short, already by her bed.
“How is she?” Y/N spoke quickly, taking in the look of her sister sleeping on the hospital bed.
Franny stood up so frantic Y/N could sit down and catch her breath after she practically ran through the hospital halls to find the room.
“She hasn’t woken up yet, but the doctor says she’s in stable condition,” her mother spoke, a shaky breath leaving her lips as she squeezes her daughter's hand.
Y/N bit her bottom lip to stop the urge to burst into tears, keeping her stone cold face in tact. “I swear, I am going to kill whoever did this. I’ll kill them myself, with my own two bare hands.”
“Y/N, please, not now,” Mom hissed. She hated that her daughter had gotten so involved in the business, and she most certainly hated that Y/N got her father’s temper. Her daughter hurting people is the last thing she wants to think about, especially while her other daughter is currently on a hospital bed.
“What, you don’t want whoever did this to pay?”
“Of course I do! By going to prison, not by my daughter’s two hands,” she glared at her eldest.
Y/N huffed, sifting back in her chair and trying to tie back her knotty hair in some sort of bun to get it out of her face before she screams. “Well, my way is a whole lot easier, and I can then guarantee whoever did gets justice served. Who knows what the legal system will do. Give ‘em three months maybe.”
“How about both of you shut your mouths, she’s waking up,” Franny spoke up, gaining the two’s attention immediately. Y/N sat forward, grabbing Serena’s right hand in her own.
The blinding light from the lamp above her head made Serena squint her eyes shut at the vivid brightness, her face distorting into in an uncomfortable grimace before she was able to open her eyes without the light hurting. She looked around at her family, confusion striking her features as she realized where she was.
“Wha– what happened?” She spoke hoarsely, her voice scratchy from probably being excessively dry.
When it was explained what had happened to her, she immediately broke down into tears, which then caused Y/N to let out her own tears. Again, that ping of guilt hitting her right in the heart.
“I know the police are going to ask you questions once they see you’re awake, but do you have any idea who did this to you? Anyone being suspicious towards you last night?” Y/N asked, keeping her voice in a hushed tone to try not to startle her sister in this fragile state.
Maybe it wasn’t the best timing for this but police would be here soon and this was Y/N’s job to find the person who did this, who hurt her family, her blood.
Serena swallowed, closing her eyes to try and remember anything from the night before. She started to shake her head because most of the night was a blur in her head but then she did remember one specific detail that was probably the most important.
Her eyes snapped open as she looked at Y/N, the realization of how important the detail is dawning on her. “He had a uh– tattoo on his arm. It was the. . . Styles emblem.”
Y/N practically shot out of her seat, fuming at just the name of Styles. She hardly left with a goodbye before she was storming out of the building and into her car. Of course it was someone from his side that had the audacity to do something like this. To step onto her side of the city, to do this to her sister.
If you know Y/N, you know her family, so whoever it was knew exactly what they were getting themselves into, and that just made Y/N even angrier. Her hands were practically itching to grab ahold of this guys neck and twist it like a rope.
She zipped her way in and out of traffic, trying to make it to her destination without any fatalities but still getting there as fast as possible. And when she did get there she hardly remembered to put the car in park and to shut it off before she was running inside and to the elevator.
She got a lot of nasty looks from everyone that saw her figure running across the lobby, and she knew why but she didn’t give the time of day to care. Because the boss herself was stepping onto the wrong territory.
When she made it to the right floor, and to the right door, she pounded her fist rapidly on the wood, urging anyone inside to open the fucking door.
And when the door finally did swing open, she was face to face with the one face she was hoping to not see anytime soon but yet at this time she couldn’t avoid him any longer.
“You better have a good reason to be knocking on my door this fucking early in the morning,” Harry spat down at the girl in front of him.
Y/N looked over his shoulder to see two people, a random guy and a girl on the couch in his office, both nearly naked. Then she looked at Harry and saw that his own clothes were disheveled as he probably haphazardly tossed them on his body to open the door.
“Really, in your office?” Y/N droned, pushing past him and into the large space and giving the two a nasty look to state get out.
“I don’t really need your fucking comments so how about you just leave?”
“No, they have to though,” she gestured to the two who were looking around the room quite uncomfortably, not exactly sure what to do with themselves in this moment.
“You don’t boss me around.”
Y/N sighed at his frustrating attitude, trying to keep her cool in front of bystanders, but it was pretty difficult when she was dealing with the most difficult man on the planet. “Harry. . .” she began, looking at him with these pleading eyes that meant something was wrong. Y/N hated looking weak, especially in front of him, but if it got him to cooperate for once, then so be it.
“It’s important business, that they have no part in.”
He looked at Y/N with a hard look, really not wanting to let his fun night come to a close all because she said so. But, he could tell from the way her eyes were the slightest shade of red and how she was still dressed in her pajamas in front of him that whatever this was must have some sort of emergent reasoning.
He looked to Dave and Michelle, the pair who were still so confused about what was happening, a sorrowful look on his face. A look Y/N never thought she would see. They got the idea, quickly scrambling for their clothes before leaving his office. Harry closed the door behind them, licking at his bottom lip before biting it and turning back around to Y/N with that stone cold face she’s grown used to.
“Well, you better get to explaining what the fuck this is all about before I lose my mind.”
Y/N took a shallow breath, running her hand through her very messy hair and speaking up, “Someone on your side hurt my sister, and I need you to find out who.”
“Hurt your sister?” He looked at her with a bored face, going to his big chair behind his desk and plopping down on it, propping his feet onto his desk and leaning back with his arms resting behind his head.
“She was drugged and raped and she says she saw your emblem on him, so, chop chop boss man and find out who the fuck was out last night.”
Shock laced his features at the r word but he soon went back to his bored look, and scoffing at the idea that one of his men would do something so vile. Serena was known to exaggerate and to lie about things ever since she first got her hands on drugs and Harry had no choice but to disbelieve the claims.
“I highly doubt it was one of my guys. Your sister has a tendency to. . . lie. Plus, if she was drugged there’s a low chance she’ll remember something as specific as my emblem but, I assume, nothing else,” he pointed out, raising his eyebrows at Y/N as if to say I win*.
Steam could practically be seen escaping Y/N’s ears as her face set into an angry frown and becoming increasingly red by the moment. Why did she think he would be considerate once? It was her mistake to think he had any ounce of a heart in his body, but even though she knew he would be difficult to work with, she was still beyond pissed at his response.
She stomped forward to the front of the desk, standing opposite him as she leaned forward and grabbed his white button-down shirt in her fist and yanking him forward so his body was in an awkward position and so his face was inches from her own. His smirk settled deeper on his face as his eyes trailed up and down her own face and her figure that was leaning over the desk. Because she never gave herself the time to change out of her pajamas, her silk camisole top revealed a lot of what was underneath to Harry; especially the lack of a bra.
Y/N could practically see the hormones flowing around in his head as he looked like he couldn’t give two shits about the way she was practically ripping his shirt off his body. She brought her other hand up and hooked it under his jaw, tilting his head up so he had no choice but to only look at her eyes.
“I figured I would ask nicely before I kill the prick myself. But there is no playing nice with you, is there Styles?” Y/N seethed, gritting out her words, pushing his body back harshly into his chair.
He laughed, genuinely laughed at the prospect of her being. . . nice. He ran his fingers through his hair, getting up from his position in his chair and walking around to meet her at the front of her desk. His slim fingers took the strap of her camisole, gently rolling it in his fingers before bringing it up and snapping it back down on her skin. “Not when you’re dressed like this, love.” Y/N pushed his hand off her body, standing up straighter in her spot and giving him the nastiest glare she could muster.
“Fine, but don’t be alarmed when you get the news someone died,” she stated, walking back over to the direction of his office door.
“You won’t be killing anyone, Y/N. And if you do, you leave me no choice but to kill one of yours,” he called out as she began to walk down the hall.
She stopped in her tracks, turning around to face him, to see that he was leaning against the doorway of the room, arms crossed in front of his chest. Y/N laughed at his proposition, looking down at her feet, stepping back in his direction with the tiniest foot forward.
“I think whoever raping my sister and then me killing them justifies this whole, eye for an eye thing, don’t ya think?” She hummed, giving him her final deadpan glare before, again, walking away from him and beginning her business for the day.
❊ ❊
A few days went by.
Y/N was closer to finding the guy, but it seems finding someone with a specific emblem tattooed on them proves to be quite difficult when a lot of guys have that same emblem tattooed on them in the exact same spot.
Cameras in the club did little to nothing to help her in the case, seeing as the place is dark, and that it’s sort of illegal to have surveillance in the bathroom. But her team was working hard and the more she didn’t have the guy in her hands, the more angry she became, and the more determined she was to freaking find him.
“All I’m saying is if you drop to your knees, he’ll be more willing to help you,” Y/N’s best friend Flo shrugged, taking a sip from her water as she leaned back in the chair.
“And I don’t need his help, he’s proven to be useless countless times.”
“Then why ask in the first place? Remind me again, because I’m a little lost.”
Y/N turned her head away from her laptop screen, looking at Flo with a bored look, sighing as she closed her laptop to give her friend her undivided attention. “Is there something you wanna talk about?”
“Yeah, like how I think this whole ‘Oh, I hate Harry,’ thing is bullshit. Why go to him if you know he won’t help?” Flo questioned, leaning forward with her arms resting on the mahogany desk.
“Maybe he grew some human decency since the last time I saw him?”
Flo squinted her eyes at her best friend, not exactly accepting that as an answer. It was for one pretty vague, and Flo knew her friend a bit better than that. There was something she wasn’t telling her, and she’d be damned if she left this room not knowing.
“Hm,” Flo hummed, sitting back against the leather chair, then taking another dramatic sip of her water. Y/N gave her a look of distaste as if to ask, is there a problem?
“And, when was the last time you saw him?”
Two weeks ago.
For that. . . thing they don’t talk about.
From what Flo knows, last time Y/N saw Harry was to discuss business settlements six months prior. So, if there’s no business that needs to be handled, there would be no reason for Y/N to see Harry, right? That’s a secret Y/N so desperately wants to keep. She’s ashamed of the night. Beyond words she’s ashamed and it’s only because she gave into temptation.
For a long time, she had Flo telling her that she should let go of this family feud because how could Y/N miss out on an opportunity to be with someone as handsome as Harry? As powerful as Harry? If they were together, there would be absolutely nothing stopping them, because not only were they good at what they do, but so many people respected them that the city would have no choice but to accept that they’re a couple.
But, that went against decades upon decades of family rivalry. The two would be damned if they were the reason this, basically family tradition, came to an end.
So, Y/N had no choice but to lie to her best friend, to avoid life as she knows it spiralling out of control.
She pondered in fake wonder for a moment before answering, “I think a little over six months ago.”
Flo nodded her head in understandment, taking in Y/N’s words but not exactly believing them. There’s a reason Y/N and Flo are best friends, and it’s because the two are very much alike. They’re sarcastic, they’re funny, they’re smart, they take their job seriously, and so many more reasons beyond that. But one defining reason is that they both understand the other so well. They can see right through each other. So for Y/N to think Flo doesn’t know she’s lying, is quite offensive to Flo.
Y/N tried to not break eye contact when she was talking, but she did, and that was the main giveaway that she was lying, even if she only looked away for a brief second. Flo had her down pat, much to Y/N’s demise.
And Flo wasn’t going to sit here and not call her out on it.
“Okay, and now I want the truth.”
Y/N’s eyebrows shot up, and she pursed her lips whilst shaking her head, “I don’t know what-”
“The. Truth. Y/N.”
“That was-”
“Now.”
Y/N huffed, looking down to her hands that she now placed in her lap. Under her friend’s hard gaze, Y/N’s face began to heat up with the embarrassment running through her veins. There really shouldn’t be any reason to be embarrassed about this, but she is. She hates that it happened, but more importantly she hates how she caved to him.
Glancing back up for a moment, Y/N bit her lip softly, feeling exceptionally small as her friend continued to wait for an answer. Taking a deep breath, Y/N sat up straighter in her chair, finally speaking the truth, “Two weeks ago.”
And now it was Flo’s turn to raise her eyebrows, jaw dropping practically down to the floor.
Then Y/N got to explaining.
❊ ❊
It was a Thursday night. Not even the weekend. Y/N had found herself in Central City, which is basically what everyone within the two groups calls the place on the border that separates the sides. She was just outside of Central City, dealing with a few of her loyal dealers all day, and in Central City is one of her favorite bars, so after a long day of working, she wanted to treat herself to a few casual drinks. Plus, she has a small crush on one of the bartenders there, so she figured that night she just may get lucky.
Little did she know, Harry had been just outside of Central City all day too, dealing with a group of rogues who thought they could steal from him and get away with it. They didn’t. So, after an exhausting day of interrogation and torture, Harry needed a drink. And what better place than his favorite bar in Central City?
She was there first, chatting up with Ben the bartender. She was laughing, drinking, listening to the horrible singer up at karaoke; just having an amazing time. Everyone knew who she was but they were all too drunk to worry about anything so they went on about their nights as if the Queen of half their city wasn’t in their presence.
But then everyone went silent, and the only thing that could be heard was Y/N’s laugh as Ben says something ridiculously funny. When she noticed everyone had gone quiet, she looked around the room to look for why no one was talking. It was quite eerie that one second everyone was having the time of their life to now everyone looking like they’d rather be anywhere else.
Then her eyes met his, and she nearly dropped the glass in her hand.
But she wasn’t going to leave just because he showed up. It was her favorite bar. And he felt exactly the same way because it was his favorite bar.
About fifteen seconds of awkward silence and intense staring went down before the two got fed up with all of the eyes focused on them.
“What’re you all looking at?” They snapped in unison. Quickly everyone went back to what they were doing, trying not to worry about a fight breaking out or a screaming match going down. And their worry soon started to dissolve as all the women began to fantasize about Harry and all the men wish they were worthy of being with Y/N.
Unfortunately for the two, the only seat left available in the place was the one on the right of Y/N at the bar. And when Harry sauntered over, going to sit down on the stool, Y/N was quick to stop him claiming she was saving the seat. He looked at her blankly, knowing fully well no one was going to sit there. He swatted her hand away, sitting down on the wood with a plush seat, quickly ordering himself a drink.
They tried not to converse throughout the night no matter how badly they wanted to snap at one another. But the more they thought about yelling, the more they drank, and the more they drank, the more willing they were to talk to each other.
That’s how their night progressed. By the end of it, they somehow came across the topic of sex. And how neither of them had gotten any in what felt like forever. In reality it actually hadn’t been long at all for either of them, but they tended to be dramatic, plus they were teetering on the tipsy-drunk mindset.
“Worst part is, he left his socks on! Fucking socks! It’s one thing to last thirty seconds, but to leave your socks on? Nearly killed the guy,” Y/N grimaced, recalling the event from last week.
Harry was having a hard time keeping in his laughs and judgements, but Y/N was okay with it because that was the whole point of telling the story in the first place. “Okay, you win this time, that is worse.”
“This time? I always win, Styles.” Y/N was practically gloating as she finished off the rest of her martini. He rolled his eyes at her words, shaking his head in response.
And no one could really predict the future events unfolding. It was quite out of the ordinary, and Y/N hardly knew what she was doing until after she had done it.
This thought dawned her hazy mind, and then she was placing her hand on his shoulder and looking at him with this lust and admiration she never thought she had inside of her. The moment he felt her hand on his shoulder, he looked at her quickly and nearly crumbled at the way she was looking at him.
If no one were in this bar with them, he wouldn’t hesitate to take her right then and there, but alas people were all around them. So, he had to keep it in his pants for just a little longer.
He leaned closer to her, taking in the scent of her heavenly perfume as she breathed in his ravishing cologne. They were so close, their lips barely grazed over each other’s, the tips of their noses brushing together softly as if it never really happened.
“What’s on your mind?” He wondered, his right hand coming down on her thigh, awfully close to her now aching center.
They were positive people were most likely watching them like hawks and that news of this just might spread around very fast by tomorrow morning. But, they just didn’t care. Y/N placed her hand on top of his, slowly dragging it even further up her thigh, so his fingertips just reached her dampening underwear.
His lips parted at the feeling, his eyes widening in awe as he stretched his fingers to again barely touch her where she really wanted him. She almost moaned at the feeling but kept the noises inside, not wanting to bring anymore attention towards them.
He laced her hand that was on his shoulder in his hair, softly tugging at the curls at the nape of his neck. She brought her wet lips up to his ear, whispering, “To see what it’s like for you. . . to win.”
He looked at her with an open-mouthed smirk, tongue poking the inside of his cheek before he hastily stood up and placed a few bills down on the bar to pay for their drinks. Y/N grabbed her purse, making her way to the door, Harry following behind her.
When they finally arrived to his place, stepping in the threshold of the foyer, all barriers fell down and all morals left their minds. Their lips were locked in a feverish kiss as he had her pinned up against the cool wooden surface of his door. Her legs were hiked up to wrap around his hips, high heels abandoned on the floor as she pressed the heels of her foot onto his ass, pushing his front harder on her core, creating some sort of friction between them.
He broke apart their lips, tangling his fingers in her hair as he tugged her head to one side to open up the view of her neck that he wanted so desperately to mark up. The second he bit down on her skin and licked the area, and peppered kisses up and down her throat, Y/N let out a moan she couldn’t suppress anymore. And then Harry smirked against her skin.
“It’s so ironic,” he started, grinding his hips harder into her as he brought his head up to look her in the eyes. “Out there, you’ve got people at your feet, looking up to you like an actual queen, not afraid to kill me at any given moment. But in here. . . I’ve got you writhing beneath my touch, just itching to be touched down here.”
And then he cupped her cunt, fingers petting her damp thong, having her mewl at the small but impactful contact. She wished he would just shut up and just fuck her already, but she could tell he was having fun with this; her being so complacent and not fighting him and instead agreeing that she was in fact desperate for him to touch her.
He pushed her skirt up her hips, getting better access to her pretty pussy, pushing aside her thong, gathering up her slickness onto his fingers. He brought his fingers up to his face, admiring the shine before wrapping his lips around them. If Y/N was standing, her knees surely would’ve gave out from under her at the sight. And she couldn’t help but get ever wetter as he sucked the digits, pulling them out with a pop.
“Sweet. . . like honey,” he grinned before reattaching their lips quickly. He brought his hands down onto her ass, gripping tightly before removing them from the door. Although they didn’t get very far and ended up on the comfy living room couch. There was no way they could handle stairs in their state, so the couch was good enough.
Really classy.
As soon as her back touched the soft surface, Harry was ripping her skirt and panty down her legs, and harshly tugged open her shirt that a few bottoms came right out of the seams. And if Y/N wasn’t drunk on alcohol and lust, she’d be beyond pissed.
But she really wasn’t one to talk, because she also ripped open his shirt, albeit not as rough but she’s pretty sure she ripped off one of his buttons too. Within a matter of seconds, the two were completely naked and beyond excited for what was to come. Literally.
Harry littered kisses up and down her body, mouth lingering longer on her aroused nipples, whilst he sank one then two fingers into her dripping hole. Y/N let out a breathy moan, lifting her lips up off the couch to push his fingers deeper inside of her.
“You’re so tight, Darling, and it’s just my fingers.”
He locked their lips in another passionate kiss as he pumped his fingers faster into her heat, gaining a few more moans out of that precious little mouth of hers. He hovered his lips over hers, speaking his next works huskily and softly that sent shivers down her spine, and made her pussy throb.
“Imagine me burying my cock into you. You squeezing me as I thrust into you, over and over again. Your warm walls holding onto me as I pound into you, absolutely wrecking you. Can you imagine it?”
Before she could say a single word, his thumb began working fast circles on her clit just as he continuously started to hit that special spot inside of her that had her seeing stars. The string of moans she let out could really put a pornstar to shame, and he didn’t even have his dick in her yet.
Was it embarrassing for her to be this much of a mess just from a simple fingering? Yes. But, just like the rest of the night, she lost the will to care.
“H-. . . Harry, please,” she whined as he switched the pace of his fingers to a slower rate, trying to prolong her orgasm for as long as he could.
He simply shook his head, denying her any satisfaction. Because as much as she was in charge out there, he was in charge here and he wouldn’t let her get what she wants so quickly.
Instead, he wanted to rile her up even more. With his free hand he brought it up to her breast, groping it roughly and then pinching her nipple between his thumb and first finger. And then he got an idea as he looked at the hickey that was starting to form on the side of her neck. He slowly trailed his fingers further up her chest, her collarbones, and eventually landing on the soft skin of her throat. He gently wrapped his hand around her throat to see what kind of reaction he could get out of her, and much to his surprise, her small hand wrapped around his wrist to, instead of pushing his hand away, push harder on her throat.
And if he wasn’t turned on then, he for fucking sure is now.
She loved the way his big hand was wrapped around her throat easily as if it had the smallest circumference. She loved the way it made it just the tiniest bit more difficult to breathe while he continued to ram her pussy with his fingers. And he loved just how much she loved it. “You naughty fucking girl. You like my hand around your neck don’t you? Does it turn you on?”
Y/N didn’t want to say anything, because as much as she was this confident woman, this moment was far too embarrassing, even for her. But, frustrated with no response, Harry pressed down more, using a deeper voice to elicit a response out of her.
“Answer me, Princess. I won’t continue if you don’t use your words,” he tsked, again slowing down his rhythm. Y/N groaned as his fingers practically came to a halt, bucking her hips up to continue the euphoric feeling inside of her.
“Plea–”
“Not until I get an answer.”
Y/N huffed, opening her eyes to look into his boring down on her. She bit her lip softly before nodding her head gently to respond to his previous questions.
“Uh-uh, I want words, Y/N. You love to talk, so c’mon, tell me.”
Groaning again, Y/N turned her head to the side to break eye contact. All she wanted was an orgasm, and she knew that within the next minute she was bound to burst and she hated that he was stopping her from reaching it. She took a breath and mustered up the courage to finally agree with his words, that yes it turned her on immensely.
“Y-yes. . . it turns me on,” she whispered. With that he smirked and removed his hand from her heat, making Y/N whimper at the loss of contact. But he couldn’t take it anymore, his erection becoming too unbearable that he had to ease his pain sooner rather than later.
Reaching down to his wallet to pull the condom out that he had stuffed in there a few nights ago, because he couldn’t be bothered to go upstairs to get his stash, he hastily ripped open the foil, careful not to rip the condom itself, and quickly rolled it onto his throbbing length.
He first pushed the tip in, giving her a few moments to adjust to his girth. Y/N completely lost it as he pushed further and further inside of her, back arching off the plush cushion as she cursed at the feeling of him stretching her. She widened the space of her legs, absolutely losing her mind as Harry’s face buried into her neck, the vibrations of his moans and groans shaking her body.
When he finally stopped, Y/N was quick to look down to see his cock was gone and deep inside of her body. She never felt so full in her life and she didn’t know how she was going to take him moving. The stretch came with a subtle burn that brought tears to her eyes. All good, of course.
“Harry, please move,” she begged, scraping her nails down toned back.
“Are you sure?”
“Fucking move.”
Then he slowly inched his length out before snapping his hips back against hers.
It was crazy that they were doing this.
Never in a million years did they think they would be having sex, each other’s names flowing out of their mouths so easily as their moans filled the air. The thought was always taboo for them but just this once they accepted their fates, and God, did it feel good.
It felt so good.
❊ ❊
When Y/N was finished explaining what had happened that one night two weeks ago – of course without the intense details – Flo sat with a smirk adorning her features.
Her eyes glowed, knowing she was right. She just knew this sort of thing was bound to happen. Next step, they were going to admit their undying love for each other and Flo couldn’t wait to get that news.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Y/N scolded.
“I’m not looking at you like anything,” she shrugged. “. . So when’s the wedding?”
“Florence James!”
“Hey, I’m just dealing with the cards I’ve been dealt,” she raised her hands in defense.
“Can we just forget about him and get back to more important matters, like who assaulted my sister?”
Before Flo could respond, a knock sounded on the door to Y/N’s office. Yelling a quick come in, Y/N was quick to flip off her friend before whoever walked into the room.
Looking over her shoulder, Flo let out a laugh before getting up from her chair and then returning the hand gesture to Y/N. “Speak of the Devil,” she called as she left the room, closing the door behind her.
Harry stepped into Y/N’s office, that annoying smirk ever so permanent on his features.
“Speaking about me, Princess?”
“You have two seconds to explain why you’re here before I stab you in the throat.”
“Relax,” he dragged out, taking off his coat and draping it over the back of the chair Flo was just sitting on before sitting himself down on it. “I come with good news.”
Y/N raised her eyebrows, interested in what he could be talking about. She didn’t bother asking what good news, instead just waited for him to continue with whatever it was he had to say.
“You don’t have to worry about Jack anymore – Uh, the guy who. . . y’know, with Serena.”
To say Y/N was taken aback would be an understatement. She was so shocked that she had him repeat himself and explain what the fuck that was supposed to even mean.
“Look, I know I was harsh the other day. But when you left I got to thinking and. . . I know I would do anything I could if somebody hurt someone in my family. So, I got to asking around, turns out it was this guy Jack I had just fired and now you don’t have to worry about him,” he elaborated, clasping his hands together on his lap.
Y/N’s mind was in a whirlwind at this information, trying to process everything he just told her. It wasn’t a lot to take in but, it’s because he willingly helped her that had her in such a confused state. He had never done anything like this before and she was sure he wouldn’t do anything like it ever again.
But then she smiled. Genuinely smiled. Because he helped her. There’s no way she was going to let this one go. However, before she could gloat, she asked one very important question, “Is he alive?”
Harry gave her a knowing look, as if to say she should know him better than that.
Then she smiled again, even bigger than before. Because he killed someone for her and that – in their world – was the biggest sign of affection someone could give, because it meant that that someone meant something special.
“Fuck off with that smile,” he grumbled.
Y/N then stood up from her chair and walked over to him, standing in front of his seated figure, bringing her hand up to caress his jaw. “However could I repay you, Mr. Styles?”
It was then his turn to smile at her as he placed his hands on the back of her thighs and brought her to sit down on his lap.
“I can think of a few ways.”
And they were kissing like they never had before. This time they were so sober, it felt too real.
But they didn’t mind too much, because this moment felt like the start of something new.
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Piofiore no Banshou | Nicola/Liliana, Gilbert | AO3 Summary: At the height of summer, Liliana Adornato arrives at the Visconti manor in the hands of Nicola Francesca. There are unresolved issues between them. This becomes everyone else's problem, too. (Or, Lili wages some psychological warfare against Nicola. The Visconti manor experiences a premature and very severe winter.) Notes: COULDN’T MOVE ON FROM PIOFIORE WITHOUT PAYING TRIBUTE TO MY FAVORITE BOY, NICOLA FRANCESCA....I LOVE HIM. and therefore i shall bully him, just a little. 
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At the height of summer, Liliana Adornato arrives at the Visconti manor in the hands of Nicola Francesca.
The latter is met with thinly veiled hostility. A traitor is a traitor, but Gilbert has made his orders clear: Nicola Francesca is not to be touched. The former, on the other hand, is met with both politeness and interest; though she had been under the protection of the Falzone Family, she is merely a normal girl, and one from the church, at that. There is no problem there.
It's expected that Nicola will be trouble, the largest upset, internal ceasefire notwithstanding. After all, he’s not just any traitor to his Family—he was their Underboss, and a talented one at that. Simply by way of his being here and what he’s already done—he will always be an outsider, no matter how many years he stays with the Visconti or how many feats he performs under their name. As Oliver says: once a traitor, always a traitor.
The Visconti do not expect the lady to be anything but demure and well-mannered, as she has already shown herself to be. Sure, she was living in the Falzone manor awhile and sure, the Visconti are friendlier than most mafia, but both Families are still mafia, and in Burlone, it’s the mafia that rule. As a citizen, Liliana knows how to show her respect, to stay within the unwritten laws.  
But. Within a few days, it becomes apparent that there’s something between Lili and Nicola. Despite the fact that it was he who kidnapped her and brought her here, she looks for him at every turn and is far more at ease in his presence than anyone else’s. The Visconti soldati see her face light up at any glimpse of him, though Nicola rebuffs her approach at every turn, far too busy to entertain her. Otherwise, he never spares a glance. The two have had at least one proper conversation behind closed doors, presumably in which Nicola had reaffirmed her situation and his true colors, but it doesn’t change her behavior.    
The soldati shake their heads and think she’ll get over it; it is apparent she has outlived her usefulness, and even they have heard tell of Nicola Francesca’s pretty string of broken hearts. Eventually those ladies learn to stop lamenting over a mafia boy, and move on.
The soldati are wrong.
Liliana is darling and sweet, kind and optimistic. She is also stubborn.
All of those are weapons, and consciously or not, she uses them.
There are unresolved issues between her and Nicola.
This becomes everyone else’s problem, too.
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He is avoiding her.
Some interaction is inevitable, yes, but he makes the choices where he can. If she is in the dining hall he will not eat then; if she is in the kitchens he will make his drink later. He leaves the manor before she wakes and returns well past her bedtime. If he must see her or speak to her, he averts his gaze or cuts her off mid-sentence and pushes past him.
Lili had thought him kind, but he’d warned her—he is also a cruel man.
And yet—Lili mounts her rebellion, undeterred.
First is during lunch one day. Nicola walks into the dining room and the chatter quiets before it picks up again; he is used to this by now, more relieved that he does not see Lili in their midst. He goes to the serving table, frowning a little at what he sees. Broiled bream in lardo is the main course.
He hates lardo.
He considers his options, but before he can choose anything, the volume of the chatter fluctuates again, and when he turns he sees Lili sweeping into the room. His heart doesn’t even have time to sink before she’s in front of him.
“Here,” she says, and though her tone is pleasant as ever, her eyes are challenging.
In her hands is a plate, loaded up with food. It looks no different than anyone else’s, but upon closer inspection, he realizes that the fish has been baked, the accompanying lemon sauce a little different. It has no lardo.
Nicola looks at her, and she stares back. Back at the Falzone manor, she’d made a very similar dish to today’s main course, and he’d eaten it without complaint because she had served it to him so happily. It was later that she found out his preferences, but he assured her hers had been an exception.
Now, she serves him the opposite. Despite his treatment of her, she remembered and went through the effort of preparing something else for him.
Lili waits. All around them, the chatter has quieted to a low din, everyone watching the strange almost-fight between them. Nicola should refuse, like he’s always done. She’s tried this before, offering him food, trailing after him and begging him to eat or rest.
She’s not begging now; it is an attack, as much as it is an offering.
Her eyes flicker at his hesitation, and she tilts her head a little.
How much do you hate me? She seems to ask, limpid and melancholy. Will he rebuff her food again this time, despite the other options being something he hates or an unsatisfying combination of side dishes?
“You must have a lot of time on your hands,” Nicola says with a frown, trying to spurn her anyway.
“I’m staying put,” Lili responds, without missing a beat, “So yes, I do. But you won’t waste it, will you?”
Her ample time, or her food? Either way, Nicola can’t think of anything else rude to say. He lets Lili push the plate into his hands.
“Thank you,” he says stiffly, and Lili beams at him.
Nicola sits. Lili does too in the seat across from him, after preparing her own plate. It’s the same as his. The dining room is unable to return to its normal ambiance, a strange sort of frigidness still present between the two of them.
I make what you like. I eat what you like. I sit with you, I eat with you—I am with you.
It is a message, all of it, to him and the Visconti both whether she intends both or not. She stands by him and him only, even now.
Nicola cleans his plate, almost against his will. She’s a good cook, always has been, and the food is…familiar. Comforting.
“I’ll get it,” Lili says softly, reaching for his empty dish, and Nicola looks at her.
Her actions so far have all been servile, but when she looks at him now, satisfaction evident on her face, Nicola feels like a fly caught in a spider’s web.  
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Nicola is exhausted when he walks through the door, and moreso when Lili pops her head around the corner. Her face brightens even as his darkens, and she offers him a plate of fresh panzerotti, which he curtly refuses.
“You don’t look so good,” she continues, coming closer and practically blocking his path as he tries to move forward, peering at his face. “How about a cup of espresso?”
Nicola freezes at the familiar words, though they must seem innocuous to everyone else. His eyes narrow almost imperceptibly, and Lili takes advantage of his pause to flit towards the kitchen.
“I don’t need it,” he calls immediately after her, his brows furrowing, but when he finally follows after her, she is already in the middle of preparing one. “I thought I refused.”
She doesn’t look at him, pointedly ignoring his words.  
“You look pale. Having something warm will make you feel better,” she tells him serenely, and Nicola stiffens again.
He remembers this exact conversation when he first brought her to the Visconti manor, only their roles were reversed.
In another few moments, she is handing him the freshly brewed cup.
“Here,” she says, smiling, and Nicola sighs, looking vaguely pained.
“Lili…” he sighs, but she merely continues to hold out the cup of espresso as she pins him with her stare.
The coffee does smell good. He accepts the cup and sips, and she looks a little relieved—had he truly looked so tired, and in need of a pick-me-up?—before turning to make herself a cup of what he presumes will be a caffe latte. She looks vaguely surprised when she turns around and he’s still there, and perhaps it is testament to how exhausted he is because he doesn’t move.
They stand in silence, sipping at their drinks, a world unspoken between them once more.
“I’m happy to see you,” Lili says, very softly, and Nicola sighs.
“Liliana…don’t,” he says, almost apologetic.  
Her mouth twists a little, having expected this anyway.
“It’s the duty of an Italian lady to please the man in her life,” she says flatly, sipping at her coffee in an apathetic manner.
Nicola looks at her in slight disbelief; the fact that she remembers the things he’s said with such clarity to use them against him in such a way…despite himself, he’s impressed.
“You’re not pleasing me, Liliana,” Nicola half-purrs, half-sneers. “Why do you keep doing this? Just be the good girl you’ve always been—“
“The fact that you think that is already a mistake.”
He freezes. Oh, she is good.
Lili is smiling at him, the picture of innocence and elegance, and though she could very well just be repeating his words back to him, suddenly he is questioning whether or not she means it—or rather, how much. She’s not good enough at subterfuge for her entirely personality to be a lie—plus the Falzones have watched over her for a long time. But her behavior has been different lately, hasn’t it, and Nicola wonders—why?  
“Liliana,” Nicola says carefully, “I already told you why I brought you here. If you’re looking for the act I put up back at the Falzone manor—“
“What,” Lili interrupts him, setting her cup back on its saucer with a loud clink, “An unfortunate misunderstanding.”
This time, it’s she who walks away first, letting winter crystallize behind her.  
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He’s been unsettled since their last conversation, though he tries to put it out of his mind. It makes him more exhausted, and he hears Lili’s voice in his mind, telling him to rest, which he ignores too.
Nicola had told Gil to use and abuse him while he still could, and he still means it. He’s used to being worked hard, but it’s Lili that makes him tired, it’s Lili that—
He sighs deeply, running a hand through his hair. It’s time to admit that he does, in fact, need to rest, and thus drag his body back to the new, uncomfortable room he must call home.
As he steps through the door of the Visconti manor, he hears a low, distressed voice, and his feet are already moving before his mind can catch up.
Lili is standing in front of her door, crying. Gil is in front of her, making soothing noises, but the sight of Lili’s tears cuts Nicola to the bone, knocks the air out of his lungs. What happened? What happened?
“It’s just hard,” Lili is saying, as she puts her hands to her face, “I’m just…a little tired.”
“I can imagine,” Gil responds, leaning a little closer. “Say, Lili…”
She looks up, and Nicola’s breath catches in his throat—she is vulnerable now, scrubbed raw, and Gil…
“What if you make a different choice?” Gil asks, and Lili blinks, confused.
“What…?”
“I’m just saying that I would never make a pretty girl like you cry,” Gil says, smiling. “Instead of Nicola, why don’t you give me a shot instead?”
“Gil, I—“
The Visconti Boss leans close, opening the door behind her just as Lili steps back, and in a moment he’s practically pushed her into her room.
The door closes.
Nicola is moving again, feeling cold, cold, slamming the door open again with a bang. Lili has fallen onto her bed, eyes wide, and Gil is smirking. He rips Gil from Lili, and she sits up, a hand over her heart; Nicola struggles to remain calm as he questions just what on earth is going on here. Gil is suspiciously calm in the face of his vitriol—Nicola truly did not think Gil was this sort of person. But after some time, Gil shoots Lili a wry look.
“Guess I won that bet, huh? Or did you want to see more?”
“N-no…” Lili breathes, and Nicola glares at the Boss.
“Gilbert…what do you mean, bet?”
“Your girl here looked so pitiful that I decided to do a little role playing. Say, Nicola…how about ditching the lies for once and saving your effort for the truth instead?”
He laughs then sails out of the room. His words sink in, and Nicola curses Gil’s back with fervor.
And then, it is just the two of them.
“…Thank you, Nicola,” Lili ventures hesitantly, though she doesn’t look at him. “I didn’t think Gil was going to go that far.”
He sighs deeply, shoulders sagging.
“Well, I could tell that you truly were not enjoying the situation,” he frowns. “…Don’t scare me like that.”
She meets his eyes then, and though his brows are creased in anger, she can tell it’s not directed towards her. For a moment she looks hopeful, but then she stares down at her lap, her shoulders tensing as though she is already expecting rejection.
“Can we rebuild our relationship from the beginning?” she blurts, and she puts her face in her hands for a moment. “I don’t mind if it’s not exactly the same as before. Just…please, Nicola, don’t…don’t push me away.”  
He stares at her, and she looks up at him. There are still tears clinging to her lashes, and he remembers: I’m just…a little tired. Suddenly also remembers back at the Falzone manor, where one of his men had politely warned him don’t play around with her too much, followed up by Leo’s cheeky please treasure her, okay? We believe in you!
He sighs heavily. There is an end to all things.
“I won’t treat you as kindly as before,” he warns, but she brightens anyway, and for a second it seems like she might throw her arms around him.
He finds that he wouldn’t mind. He finds that despite his words, he wants to treat her kindly, if it means she’ll smile at him like that again.
“That’s fine!” Lili exclaims warmly, the tension bleeding out of her body. “Thank you, Nicola!”
He shakes his head; there is nothing she should show gratitude for.
“Why are you so happy?” he murmurs wryly, and she giggles a little.
“I just am,” she says, and gazes back at him.
For a moment, it is spring again, and though he still has things to do and burdens weighing upon him, Nicola leaves her room a little lighter.
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The soldati have gotten used to turning on their heels and fleeing the premises entirely when they see Lili and Nicola together. If people linger around the edges of the snowglobe the two create for themselves when they speak, they get frostbitten—it’s always snow and sleet and squalls around these two. As such, it takes a while before some of them manage to register the softening. Lili is still the one that talks more while Nicola listens, but his lips are turned up ever so slightly now, and his eyes are gentler.
Civility. In some ways, this is scarier; the soldati have only ever seen them at odds, and though what is happening now is certainly better, it is also somewhat unsettling. Spring could be coming, or it could simply be a false alarm before a blizzard kills them all. Burlone has mild winters, but Gil grew up in America, and they’ve heard stories about how bad their winters can get, how freak storms can happen just when you think it’s starting to warm up.
The soldati watch in apprehension, Oliver watches with suspicion, Gil watches with amusement, and the temperature of the Visconti household is still entirely reliant on the two who don’t truly belong there.
.
They talk at night.
It’s truly the only time Nicola can spare, when Lili should really be in bed. But she stays up for him and her smile is so bright when he knocks and opens her door that he forgets he is tired. He owes this to her, at the least; he hadn’t bothered to think it might mean anything suggestive when she’d asked him for this favor, even as he sits on her bed, but he did tease her about it anyway just to see her blush so beautifully. It’s—comforting, to see her react this way again.
“Despite everything…I thought you’d continue to ignore me,” she admits, and he give her a wry smile.
“I should have been about to lie to you without any remorse. But you…how do I say this…” he shakes his head, shrugging helplessly. “You were…surprisingly stubborn. Even I thought I might have treated you a little too coldly, but…you really have no sense of self preservation, do you?”
She laughs a little.
“Maybe just when it comes to you,” she says, “But I also don’t believe everything you did for me was a lie.”
He’s floored on two accounts—her unintentional flirting and her optimism, though she isn’t wrong about the latter.
“It always confused me, why you were so kind to me at the Falzone manor…so when I learned it was only just to use me, well…it was oddly…relieving, to have an explanation.”
Nicola laughs disbelievingly, absolutely mystified.
“You didn’t curse me or hate me or despise me? Not even a little?”
She tilts her head, her brows furrowing as she considers, though he answer is near immediate.
“It was painful to be ignored. But hating you didn’t cross my mind.”
Nicola gapes at her.
“You’re unbelievable,” he mutters, and she simply beams at him. “Unbelievable and impossible.”
“Only to you, Signor Francesca,” she says, her eyes twinkling, and Nicola…Nicola resists the urge to reach out and touch her.
“Well?” he says instead, with a slight cough, “What do you want to talk about tonight?”  
It is evident that she wants to ask about his betrayal, but she curbs the topic just a little to ask about his and Dante’s childhood instead. Once he starts talking, it spills out of him with abandon; by the end, she’s crying, and his heart softens at the sight of her tears. She’d been downcast the first time he told her about his past too, that day he’d fallen asleep on her lap, and he’d felt an odd sort of sadness for it. Now, he is grateful for her sorrow, though it’s mixed with that same sort of strange pain.
A tear escapes her eye and rolls down her cheek; Nicola reaches out and brushes it away, his hand lingering.
“Thank you, Liliana,” he says softly.
“I didn’t do anything,” she protests, but he smiles.
“You cried for Dante, and that’s worth my thanks,” he murmurs.
They are silent for a moment; Lili looks up at him, eyes glistening, tears caught in her long lashes. Nicola gazes back; his hand cups her cheek, her lips form his name, and—
“Good night, Liliana,” he says, and rises from the bed.
Nicola leaves her room before he does anything more.
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He is shaking by the time he makes it back to the Visconti manor from the casino, Lili in his arms, injured but alive after attempting to take a bullet for him. His mind is awhirl; she had been so strong at the summit of all the Bosses, standing her ground against the three most powerful men in Burlone, so unwavering and perfect. The meeting had gone well, despite him having to see Dante face-to-face again finally, and then…
The appearance of Roberto de Feo, his unusual interest in Lili, and the absolute inanity of his attempting to kill a mafia member in broad sight, on Arca’s neutral territory. Nicola never thought Lili would jump out in front of his shot; Roberto had been distressed too—in fact, that only one who wasn’t shocked was Lili herself. Instead, she’d been so angry at Roberto, so defensive over his slander and attempted murder of Nicola.
She’d only abated when Nicola put both hands on her shoulders and leaned in, forcing her to look at him.  
“Calm down, Liliana,” he’d said firmly, and she’d reached out both trembling hands to cup his cheeks in such sweet relief.
He could have kissed her, right then and there. But she was bleeding, her armed grazed by the bullet. There was no longer any need for either of them be at the casino, and so he’d whisked her away to safety without looking back.
“Nicola,” Lili murmurs, worried, and he bites down hard on his lip.
Even now she’s more concerned with him than herself, when she could have died.
He kicks open the door to her room, seating her on her bed so carefully as though she is made of glass.
“Why did you do that?” he demands, the floodgates cracking, and she looks at him with bewildered eyes. “You could have been killed!”
She gapes, face scrunching up.
“So could you!”
“I’m mafia! We all know what’s coming! I’ll die one day for what I do and it won’t matter. But you?” Nicola looks at her, half wild, then turns away, running a hand through his hair. “Not you, Lili.”
“I’d do it again,” Lili says hotly, her eyes suddenly flinty, and he whirls back, “I saw what was going to happen and I wasn’t thinking when I moved—all I knew was that I didn’t want you to die. You were in danger! Nicola, I—“
He closes the remaining distance between them, kissing her hard and desperate. Lili topples back onto the bed, and Nicola leans into her, twining their fingers together. She’s surprised at the turn of events but only for a moment; she squeezes his hands back tightly, her mouth opening to taste more of him, just as desperate. Nicola presses into her, his kiss all teeth and tongue and unrestrained hunger, and when Lili finally untangles their hands she is fisting hers into his hair, pulling him closer, closer.
Liliana Adornato is a giver; it is her nature, to help and to serve. It’s what she likes to do. But here, with Nicola on top of her, tears clinging to his lashes and his turquoise eyes seeing nothing but her, Lili wants to take. She’ll give him everything he wants, but for once, she wants everything of his, too—his hands, his lips, his attention, and the heat that is vaporizing any bit of ice remaining between them.
“Nicola,” Lili gasps, when they part for air, “Nicola.”
“Liliana,” Nicola murmurs back, raw and ragged.
“I’d do it again,” she whispers, and he doesn’t know if she means jump in front of a bullet or kiss him back or both. “I’d do it all again for you, Nicola.”    
“You’re unbelievable,” he whispers back, and kisses her again, gentler this time, and sweeter.
He mumbles something she can’t decipher, but she repeats his name against his mouth, sounding almost like a prayer.
The second time they part, he stares down at her, torn between agony and desire. She is flushed underneath him, breathing hard, her hair a mess and her shawl having slipped from her shoulders. But then his eyes trail to his handkerchief binding her wound; his face contorts as he regains his proper senses and he tears himself off of her.
Lili sits up, lunging forward and grabbing his arm before he can escape her room.
“Please,” she says, and Nicola looks like he’s in physical pain as he looks back at her, “Nicola, please. Don’t go.”
He goes still and they stare at each other.
“Don’t go,” she repeats, softer this time, and Nicola back towards her, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.
He surrenders.
.
A light knock sounds at Lili’s door late into the night.
“Come in,” Nicola responds, and it opens just enough for Gil to slip inside.
The Visconti Boss closes the door gently and leans to the side, smiling as he meets Nicola’s eyes. He keeps his voice low as he speaks, as does Nicola.
“Oh? When you responded, I expected to see some clothes off when I opened the door.”
Nicola rolls his eyes.
“Spare me your perversions, Gil,” he says, though he shifts a little as though to shield Lili’s sleeping face.
He’s sitting up in Lili’s bed, perfectly decent, legs stretched out. The girl is nestled against his side, sleeping soundly, one hand entwined with his.
There had been no salacious activities, though the knowledge of the line almost crossed was intoxicating between them, and the sight of each other’s swollen lips was…invigorating. There had, however, been more kisses shared, but in the end he’d simply held her close and stroked her hair as she listened to the steady rhythm of his heart.
Gil smirks, but the expression bleeds from his face quickly enough.  
“She okay?”
“Yeah.”
“And you?”
A pause.
“I will be, especially once all this is over,” he says, a little bitterly, and Gil shakes his head, sighing.
“You still thinking about breaking her heart, after all that? And this?”
He gestures vaguely, and Nicola shoots him a rueful look.
“Haven’t I already?” Nicola asks, and Gil smothers a derisive laugh.
“Far from it. You can be a real idiot sometimes, you know that? Or if you’re waiting for her to break yours…if it even happens somehow, it’ll only be the death of you. You’re in too deep already, Nicola.”
He laughs softly.
“This is a lot of meddling, even for you, Gilbert,” he says, and Gil shrugs.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed but—oh, who am I kidding? You know damn well both you and the signorina have turned my manor upside down since you’ve gotten here. Call it self-preservation, for the Family. And besides…I like you, Nicola.”
“Heart’s already taken, Gilbert.”
“Oh, now you admit it?”
Nicola looks down at Lili.
“I’m a dead man walking,” he tries, echoing a past conversation of theirs, but Gil snorts.
“For God’s sake, Nicola, just let her win.”
Gil walks out without waiting for a response, and Nicola is left alone with Lili again.
She’d fallen asleep quickly, despite their heated kisses earlier; all her adrenaline from the casino had finally worn off, leaving her exhausted. He’d assured her he would stay until she fell asleep, laying a hand over her eyes, so reminiscent of her first night at the Falzone manor. He feels at ease beside her, at peace looking at her sleeping face and hearing her breathe slow and even.
He hadn’t been lying to Gil, a moment ago. He still is a dead man walking, no matter how much Gil likes him. It’s Family first, in the mafia, and though he may be a Visconti now, he isn’t one truly. It’ll be an easy choice, if it comes down to him or another Visconti member. He is no longer a Falzone either; betrayal isn’t tolerated, and even if half of the Family doesn’t believe in his betrayal yet, the other half is out for his blood.  
Hell, and Roberto is too, so that’s part of the police force as well.  
The odds are stacked against him, but he still has his goals to achieve, plans that he’s laid for years. Since childhood, when Dante told him through tears that he hated the mafia and no longer wanted to be a part of it.
Nicola will see his plans come to fruition or die trying—freeing Dante is the one thing he will sacrifice himself for. Liliana…precious as she’s become, she does not supplant that.
The girl in question shifts, pressing herself closer against him, sighing softly.
“Nicola…” she murmurs, and he brushes a curl of hair from her cheek.
He only said he would stay until she fell asleep. Nicola has sat here for hours now, unable to bring himself to move.
Slowly, gently, he disentangles his fingers from hers and bends down to press one last kiss to her forehead.
.
He’s still there in the morning.
19 notes · View notes
kumoriyami-xiuzhen · 3 years
Text
Otomate Party 2019 Piofiore no Banshou: December 31, 1925 drama
So... I ended up translating this as a favour owed to someone who I got to borrow a switch from before I got my own. Haven’t actually played piofiore so I might have used different words for the chars as opposed to what’s  in the game (please tell me if you think something should be changed since I strive to match the game text). 
This is likely going to be the only piofiore translation i do since I found nothing aside from some of the stories that came from a store bonus booklet which ended up being translated and put in to copy-able text that I could read....  and I have no interest in going further out of my way to hurt my hand by writing out the text from any more dramas from a fandom I don’t really have any interest in... as I already did so for this. 
anyway, I translate from Chinese into English so this may not be 100% accurate. the video for this has now been moved to my private blog.
Piofiore no Banshou: December 31, 1925
Translation by KumoriYami
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Nicola: no one's here yet, though this is definitely the agreed upon time. Well, it is New Year's Eve today. If no one comes after midnight, I'll just head back.
(door creaks open)
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Gilbert: ~hums~ haha yo, nicola!
Nicola: Hello, that really was quite an entrance, Gilbert. Have you been drinking?
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Gilbert: I haven't/No [check audio], I just recently met interesting man at a/the bar who dreams of going to the moon. It was incredible, like we weren't strangers at all.
(door creaks open)
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Yang: What, surprisingly no on is here yet, and it seems that I'm early.
Gilbrt: Noo, you're totally late, late at the clock, Yang.
Yang: In any case you were also late, Redford
Nicola: Can you stop being late all the/every time?
Yang: As always, you have such a strong sense of time, Francesca. Are you really from this country?
Nicola: How rude. My family is of pure Italian descent, regardless of how far many generations back you go/regardless of how far back you go.
Gilbert: Ah, what happened to Dante? I don't see him.
Nicola: Ah, Dante, he was taken by our consultant.
Gilbert: Does that mean he'll be arriving late?
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Nicola: Drinking to much— it'll cause a certain .... you understand?
Gilbert: That's true, although that hasn't been exaggerated/that's no exaggeration, the situation still hasn't reached that staged.
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Yang: Ha......This is terrible. Why is it that on the last day of the year I must see a man's face/Why do I have to see a man's face until the end of the last day of the year?
Nicola: That's what I should be saying. Well, it was pretty nice to say hello to that child anyway.
Yang: As expected of Francesca, you're simply full of impure motives/bad ideas/have/are a collection of bad ideas.
Nicola: Yang [check audio might have written name down incorrectly], can you say that to me/do you have the right to say that to me?
Yang: I'll be taking that woman/That woman will brought back by me anyway so you should give up.
Gilbert: What are you saying, Yang. Also no one asked for your opinion.
Nicola: That's right, that child isn't yours.
Gilbert: Right, just as Nicola says, she's interested in me, so don't do anything unnecessary.
Nicola: That's right, she's Gilbert's— eh?
Gilbert: eh?
Nicola: Who do you think is interested in whom?
Gilbrt: Ahaha, don't make me repeat this since I'll feel embarrassed. She's already to go out on a date with me.
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The two of us went to a gelato store overlooking the coast/sea...
Nicola: Isn't that just eating gelato in the same place? You can't be certain that she's interested in you.
Gilbert: Oh? What's wrong? Are you jealous/feeling bitter? Nicola.
(Yang’s VA starts walking away)
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Nicola: For adults on a date to actually go to a gelato store [parlour] by the ocean, it's completely tasteless with zero sense of sentiment involved.
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Yang: Hm...
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Nicola: By the way, last week that child and I enjoyed an evening at a nice and stylish bar.
gilbert. Oh.
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Yang: ah, there's a split end
Gilbert: Ha! Isn't that just inviting someone to a simple dinner?
I mean, she's also lived at my home.
Nicola: That was since she couldn't do anything about it after you begged her, and was only pressured into do so.
Right! Before that, she specifically made me some desserts as a consolation.
Giilbert: That wasn't just for you. It was for Dante and Leo.
nicola: keh
Yang: Ah, I don't know when a scratch got onto the pipe.
gilbert: [Anyway?] Yang! 
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Yang!
Yang: What.
Gilbert: Why aren't you showing any interest in this?
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Yang: Because it's extremely boring, and I can't help it.
Besides, even if you want to argue
Wouldn't it be hard for you both to compete with me, who has already slept in that woman's room?
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Nicola: eh, eh, ha, eh—?
Yang: I slept there.
nicola: eh?
Yang: The bed in that room was so bad, it's not even worth mentioning.
Nicola: [you know that] Using force is a crime/Used force to commit a crime? Yang.
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Gilbert: Ah, wai-wait, wait,  hold it, Nicola.
That guy literally broke into her room without permission and slept there, that's all!
Nicola: Even though that was an unsuccessful attempt, wouldn't it be better to send him off here? In order to ensure her safety.
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Gilbert: No, why are you always so quick to anger /why do you have such a short temper becomes so low when Yang is involved
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Yang: che, how boring. In the end though, what's wrong? A man who makes a woman wait isn't a man, is he?
Gilbert: No, no, she's not waiting for you.
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Nicola: nn, she's waiting for me.
Gilbert: No, no, that's also not right.
Yang: It's a pity, but I'm still the one who makes that woman most happy.
Nicola: If you don't want to compete, why don't you go back? Gilbert?
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Gilbert: Ngh... Really, why are you bothersome.
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Of course my desire to touch her is no less than how much you want tooooooooo
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Nicolata: Gilbert, what the hell are you trying/asserting—
Ah, you, since when were you over there?
Yang: I see, it's no wonder why someone's gaze could be felt from the start of this until now
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Gilbert: No, if you noticed, say something earlier, Yang!
Yang: So when did you start eavesdropping?
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Nicola: from the very beginning, everything....
Gilbert: ...if it's true, there's no way around it
Nicola: Eh, wait, Gilbert?
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Gilbert: When I see you smile, my heart becomes heated.
I want to touch you, and to hold you, regardless of where
Of course, even now.
I sincerely mean this.
Although we're only friends right now, I truly would like to have a special relationship with you one day
From now on, I will ask that you please be aware of my feelings.
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Nicola: hey, hey, wa-wait a moment, Gilbert, why are you suddenly talking about love?
Gilbert: Hm? What's so strange about that?
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yang: I think the the development just now was a little strange. 
Gilbert: I didn't say these words as a joke.
I want to tell people what I truly feel, and to the woman I love -
nicola: I don't think those are words that can be excused/forgiven for such a reason. You see, she also—
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Huh?
yang: ...You have a somewhat approving mood to this/You’re slightly receptive to this?
Gilbert: You see, a man needs to be honest, remember that well
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Yang: Thanks for your guidance, so what will you be doing? Francesca.
Nicola: What's going on?/What?
Yang: Do you want Redford to enjoy himself? Why don't you say one or two passionate words of courtship?
Nicola: Aren't you clearing enjoying the excitement/this?
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Gilbert: Hehe! Don't force it, Nicola. Even you aren't able to love in the way I do.
Yang: What, Francesca? Are you not going to say anything?
Nicola: When it comes to that, I naturally also have feelings I want to convey
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I think I'm messing around with you to some extent, but aren’t you always messing around with me?
I shouldn't be taking this seriously, and I understand that from the bottom of my heart.
I'm in the Mafia, and you're an ordinary girl.
There are countless reasons I can list for why we can't be together
even so, this is a real headache/dilemma.
For the first time, whenever I'm in your presence, I can't do what I want.
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I love you, signorina.
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Gilbert: Oh. Eh. Th-Th-That reaction was quite intense, so.. what will you do? Between myself and Nicola, who do you want to choose?
Yang: there's no need to ask such a question, Redford. Because that woman is already mine/my thing from the start.
Nicola: But I don't think any girl would choose a savage man like Yang?
Yang: Whatever you say. Fine. I'll accept your provocation.
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Oi, you, become my woman.
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Gilbert: Why would you start with something so thoughtless...
Nicola: I'd doubt your common sense, though there never was any common sense in Yang's dictionary in the first place/though, in the first place, there never was any common sense in your dictionary, Yang [check audio].
Yang: Shut up, don't interrupt me.
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I hate cheap women who grovel, and having said that, it goes without saying that women who show fear are also boring.
I'd kill women who bore me, so you should actually look forward to it/this.
Perhaps you'll be a good toy to stop me from being bored.
How is that? If you come to my side, you will have a taste of a whole new world.
Should I take you back now and show you what it's like?
Adult games, that kind of stuff—
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Nicola: okay okay okay, stop there!
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Gilbert: On top of that, we can't go further than that/that's not going to work
nicola?: eh?
Gilbert: Would you have already been stabbed if Orlok was here?
Nicola: He'd/It'd be very nice if he went home.
Yang: Hah... what a noisy bunch. I'd have immediately brought her back if i knew it'd be like this.
Sweet words are enough in bed—
Gilbert: That's enough, Yang.
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Yang: What are you doing, let me go
Gilbert: Who's going  to let you go. As soon as I l do that, you'll say something stupid.
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No, [instead,] we really shouldn't have met on New Year's Eve.
Nicola: In the end, there was simply no time to talk about work. Let's wait for a new opportunity to find time to do so later.
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Gilbert: Ah, that's fine. Goodbye, Nicola. Alright, you're going back Yang!
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Yang: There's no helping it then. I'll go back for today, but next year, I will make you mine/my thing [东西 is usually translated into "thing' or "stuff" in chinese... tho from what i’ve read, i kinda thing "toy" would work? might just leave it at  'mine'].
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Gilbert: Ah, that's enough!
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Nicola: okay okay, buon anno, have a good new year~
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On this street [alt: district? check gameplay videos], we welcomed a peaceful day.
But as members of the mafia, a hated and loathed existence, this peace [of ours/now] will not last forever.
In a few moments the new year will be here. It will surely have trials that that haven't been thought of.
But, I will protect you until the very end.
(bell starts ringing)
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Ah, it's here, the new year
1926, it's about to start—
-----end -----
images cut from video of the 2020 otomate new title party tho this drama was originally from the 2019 otomate party... i think?
22 notes · View notes
jaskierswolf · 3 years
Text
The Christmas Elf (Pt.4/5)
Peace.
Fucking peace.
Geralt charged along the path towards the mayor’s house where Jaskier and Yennefer were hopefully still both alive. He didn’t want anymore lives on his conscience today.
They’d been travelling together for sixteen years at this point, married for eight, and he knew Jaskier had a tendency to chatter, especially when he nervous about something. They’d been toying with the idea of Geralt going with Jaskier back to his home this winter. Jaskier had visited Kaer Morhen a couple of times over the years when he’d been able to convince Santa that he wasn’t needed for Christmas that year, returning in the spring to pass along the Christmas Spirit he’d managed to capture in the smaller snow globe, but Geralt had never seen the North Pole Realm. Jaskier was worried about bringing an outsider into his realm. Not because he didn’t trust Geralt but because he didn’t trust the other Christmas elves to treat Geralt kindly.
Jaskier’s isolation from his own kind had only gotten worse after they’d had a hand-fasting ceremony eight years ago. It had been Geralt’s idea. He’d needed something to hold onto during the months they were separated each year and he knew that Jaskier was the romantic sort.
Vesemir had performed the ceremony and his brothers had been there as witness. Jaskier had ridden home on Pegasus to ask a few of his closer friends from the North Pole to attend but he’d come back alone and devastated, the light in his eyes almost nonexistent.
He’d vowed right there and then to make sure that Jaskier knew that he always had a family in the witchers of Kaer Morhen.
Their marriage had also saved them a whole lot of trouble when it came to jilted lovers. Over his first few years on the Continent, Jaskier had built up quite a reputation as a lover of all and disgruntled spouses often lashed out at him when they had the chance. Now, no one came near Jaskier, not with his witcher husband standing guard. He smiled fondly as he remembered the swine from Pavetta’s betrothal feast. He hadn’t noticed Geralt watching Jaskier from across the room and had almost shit himself when Geralt introduced himself as Jaskier’s husband.
Of course it was that shit show that was still haunting Geralt to this day. It was nightmares  of his child surprise fleeing from a burning city that had kept him awake each night. It was that fated evening that had caused his irritation the day before. So yes Jaskier had been particularly chattery, too anxious to read Geralt’s short fuse but he was the one that had lashed out at Jaskier. Sure he was exhausted but it was Jaskier.
He should never have said that, not to him, not to someone he loved.
Now if only he could get that fucking scent out of his head. He’d known as soon as it had hit him that there had been some kind of enchantment. His medallion had hummed on his chest but he’d noticed too late. The damn witch had been inside his head, manipulating his thoughts, pulling at his free will. It had been a blessing that he’d blacked out. He didn’t want to remember the pain he’d caused throughout the town, further damaging the reputation of witchers and undoing all of Jaskier’s work.
“Oh, Geralt. Thank the angel Gabriel. I might live to see another day.” Jaskier came running from the house. His shirt was covered in his blood and Geralt winced. It had all been his fault. Instead of pulling Geralt into a hug, like he would usually do, Jaskier charged straight past him.  “We need to go.”
“Jaskier.” Geralt grabbed his elf’s hand and pulled him to a stop. He needed to see for himself that there was no permeant damage done. He cupped Jaskier’s cheek and smudged the blood from his lips. “You’re ok?”
“I’m glad to hear that you give a monkey’s about it.” Jaskier snapped.
Fuck.
He was still mad at Geralt. They didn’t argue this badly very often. Neither of them enjoyed the distance it put between them, and they always tried to make up before winter came and they parted ways.
Geralt hummed. “What happened?”
“Well, I was having a rather lovely dream which then turned into a nightmare. There were naked women in both parts. The first one was loving, tender, very generous.” Jaskier explained with a flick of his wrist. He no longer wore bells around his wrists during the summer but he’d never quite lost the habit. His words stung. Geralt snarled. Now his husband was just being petty. “The second, significantly more terrifying.”
“Tell me about the second one.” Geralt grumbled.
“Well, black hair, devilish eyes, was painting an amphora on her abdomen. You know, the usual.” Jaskier answered, ever the dramatist.
Yennefer.
Fuck.
He had to save her, he owed her for Jaskier’s life. She wasn’t allowed to die.
Jaskier protested at Geralt’s response but Geralt insisted.
Finally with a dramatic sigh, Jaskier grabbed onto Geralt’s hand and they were wrapped up in a flurry of snow.
Frost hopping, Jaskier called it.
Geralt called it what it was, a short ranged portal, and he fucking hated portals.
Yennefer was tearing herself apart trying to capture the djinn, and neither Geralt or Jaskier’s magic would touch her, not like this.
He had to wish.
So he wished.
And the house went still.
For a moment.
The calm before the storm.
Then havoc as it all began to crumble on top of them.
“Geralt!” Jaskier screamed and everything stopped.
No.
Not stopped.
Yennefer looked between the pair of them in shock.
Jaskier’s hair was now white with frost and his hands were like ice in Geralt’s. Geralt had to let go before the cold burnt his skin.
“What the fuck?” Yennefer asked. “I thought he a bard?”
Geralt shrugged. “He’s also an elf.”
The ceiling creaked a low long groan and dust slowly floated down from the sky.
“Fuck!” Jaskier gasped, his eyes flying open. They were like blue torches in the darkness of the bedroom.
Geralt had never seen them shining so brightly.
“Not even Francesca Findabair could do this.” Yennefer muttered.
“Geralt.” Jaskier slurred the word, his voice was strained and barely above a whisper. “I can’t hold it. Not enough Spirit. Get us out!”
Geralt grunted and turned to Yennefer. “We need to go. Now.”
“I can see that, witcher.” She snapped. “Grab hold of your bard and take my hand.”
Geralt took a deep breath and wrap his arm around Jaskier’s waist. The cold pierced through his armour and he felt like he’d jumped into the icy rivers around Kaer Morhen. He hissed in pain but managed to hold onto Yennefer’s outstretched hand.
His stomach churned as Yennefer made another portal.
He groaned. If he could never see another portal again then he would be happy. It was the simple pleasures in life, like knowing how to walk places or riding Roach or just anything except a portal.
All three of them tumbled to the ground in Yennefer’s sex den. Jaskier fell limp in Geralt’s arms, the colour returning to his hair and skin. Geralt landed on his back, thankfully onto a cushion and Yennefer collapsed next to him her arm draped over Jaskier’s back. Geralt groaned quietly under the weight of the two bodies. He heard the roof crumbling above them.
Yennefer’s portal and whatever shit Jaskier had done, had saved their lives.
Geralt brushed Jaskier’s now brunet fringe from his eyes. They were shut but Geralt could thankfully feel the steady beat of Jaskier’s heart.
He was alive.
Geralt turned his attention to Yennefer. She wasn’t moving but she was also alive. The portal must have drained her energy.
“Yennefer.” He tried to rouse her, unsuccessfully. He carefully laid Jaskier down on the large cushion and pressed his lips to his husband’s forehead.
Jaskier groaned quietly under his touched and rolled onto his side, curling up into a ball.
He was alright. So Geralt tried Yennefer again. She was more awake this time and her tongue was sharper than his blades, blaming him for the djinn’s disappearance as if he’d hadn’t saved her life with his wish.
His wish.
Fuck.
That could have been better worded.
He made a note not to tell Jaskier. His husband, the ever eloquent wordsmith, would have his head if he knew.
He traded barbs with Yennefer until Jaskier whacked him in the leg.
“Would you two shut up?” He grumbled and buried his face in the pillow.
Geralt rolled his eyes. “Careful, Jask. You don’t know where that cushion’s been.” He huffed a laugh.
Jaskier immediately jumped to his feet before falling straight back into Geralt’s lap.
“Oh fuck, my head.” He whined and snuggled into Geralt’s embrace.
“How did you do that?” Yennefer asked.
“Do what?” Jaskier slurred.
“You stopped time.” She raised an eyebrow at the pair of them.
Geralt shrugged. She had been the one who had assumed they were only friends. He’d been too overwhelmed by the panic in his chest to correct her before.
“Slowed time.” Jaskier corrected. “and I don’t know. I thought only Santa could do that.”
“Santa?” She laughed. “What the fuck is that?”
“His boss.” Geralt explained.
“Santa, Father Christmas, good old Saint Nicholas.” Jaskier waved his hand but kept his face buried in Geralt’s chest.
“Is he mad?” Yennefer asked.
Geralt shrugged again.
“Oi!” Jaskier snapped. Geralt just laughed and kissed his hair.
“You married me.” Geralt reminded him gently.
“Oh yes, I was completely mad to marry you.” Jaskier drawled sarcastically and pulled back to glare at him. “Eight years and you still doubt that I love you.”
Geralt hummed nonchalantly.
“Married?” Yennefer scoffed. “A Witcher and a bard, how poetic.”
Jaskier laughed. It wasn’t his normal radiant laugh, he was too tired from the exertion of the magic, but it was still beautiful. “All the best love stories are, my darling witch.”
__________________
Jaskier watched helplessly as Geralt and Yennefer tore each other apart with scathing words. His own heart was breaking as Borch revealed the true extent of Geralt’s fated wish.
How could his husband be so foolish?
He didn’t noticed the frost creep out from beneath his boots as he seethed silently away from the feuding pair.
No wonder Geralt and Yennefer had always had this strange dance. Geralt had never cheated on him, as far as he was aware, but Jaskier had noticed the way his witcher was always drawn to the sorceress. He’d just turned a blind eye. It had been easier that way.
Fuck!
Was this the feeling he’d sparked in all those jealous spouses all those years ago?
Fuck!
He wrapped his arms around his chest. For the first time in decades in actually missed his home, not Kaer Morhen or his occasional lodgings in Oxenfurt but his real home. The North Pole. His cosy little ginger bread cottage with it’s roaring fireplace and the ever-present scent of candy canes and cinnamon.
Sure he dropped back a few times a year to transfer the Spirit he’d generated and every other year he still joined Santa on the sleigh, although he’d never built up the courage to ask Santa how he had managed to slow time in Rinde. Christmas elves were not supposed to have that ability and he was unsettled by it. He’d also been avoiding the topic of bringing Geralt back to visit. His husband already put up with enough hate in this realm, he didn’t need it from the other Christmas elves too.
And after this delightful revelation, Jaskier wasn’t even sure if he wanted to bring Geralt home, not if he was just going to pine after Yennefer the whole time.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
He was going to be sick. His ears started ringing as he struggled to breathe. He couldn’t do this. Not without Geralt. Christmas elves weren’t supposed to fall in love and yet Jaskier had fallen so deeply in love that he could no longer imagine what his life would be without Geralt in it, but how were they supposed to move past this.
Yennefer stormed past him and he watched her go, his hands white and trembling. He gripped tightly onto his lute strap in attempt to ground himself but it didn’t work.
He needed to get away.
He couldn’t bear to lose Geralt any more than he already had. He couldn’t look Geralt in the eyes and know that his husband no longer loved him.
He let out a shaky breath, wisps of condensation escaping his lips, and he could feel the cool frost in his hair. He was losing control of the Spirit that he had stored in his veins but there still wasn’t enough to make the jump back to pegasus. His reindeer was too far away for him to frost hop and he couldn’t get home without him.
He scrambled to his feet and went to follow Yennefer back down the mountain.
“Damn it, Jaskier!” Geralt called after him.
Jaskier froze and spun round to face his husband with tears in his eyes.
Christmas elves didn’t cry. They were joyful creatures by nature. They sang and whistled and made toys for all the children of Earth. They created fairy lights and Christmas trees. They baked gingerbread and painted striped on candy canes, and elves like Jaskier created the music of Christmas, the soulful carols that uplifted the hearts of every human on Earth, young and old.
But they never cried.
Jaskier hadn’t even realised it was possible.
He brought a shaky finger up to his eyes and wiped away the tear. He had to laugh despite everything when he noticed the flecks of glitter in the droplet.
Geralt’s arms wrapped and around him, despite how cold he must be to the witcher. He pressed his face against Geralt’s chest, too weak to resist his lover’s embrace.
“Are you… crying?” Geralt murmured quietly.
Jaskier scoffed and sniffed loudly. “Apparently so.”
“Why?”
Jaskier sighed and he frost hopped away from Geralt in a cloud of snow.
“Why?!” He snapped putting his hands on his hips. “Geralt, you bound yourself to her like she’s your fucking soulmate. Bloody hell. Why would you do that?”
Geralt growled. “I didn’t have time to think about it, Jaskier. Fuck!” He snarled and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I was just trying to save her life.”
“Always so fucking noble.” Jaskier grumbled. “You could have just asked the djinn to let her live!”
“It was a mistake.”
“You didn’t want to lose her, Geralt. Bollocks. You barely knew her.” Jaskier glared. “Is that why you went back inside, because you wanted her…”
“No.”
“I don’t understand!” Jaskier yelled and snow whipped around him, lashing out against Geralt and knocking him to the floor. “Oh shit, Geralt!”
He ran over to where the witcher was lying on his back and covered in snow.
Geralt groaned and wiped the snow from his eyes. “Jask.” He reached out for Jaskier and despite his anger and heartbreak Jaskier took Geralt’s outstretched hand.
“Just tell me one thing, Geralt.” Jaskier sighed.
Geralt grunted.
“Why did you lie to me about the wish?” He asked quietly.
Another grunt.
Jaskier huffed and rolled his eyes, yanking his hand away from Geralt and moving back down the path.
“I knew you would be cross.” Geralt mumbled. Jaskier stopped but didn’t turn to face his husband. “You are so good with words. I knew you would have thought of a hundred ways I could have made that wish that didn’t bind Yen and I together. I felt… inadequate. I didn’t want to disappoint you, but it’s too late now.”
Jaskier’s heart broke again for the second time that day.
Fuck!
How had he been so selfish? He knew Geralt was hurting, losing Yennefer would be hard for his husband, no matter what he thought of the witch, and facing his own abandonment of the child surprise would have been a second dagger in his witcher heart.
Jaskier sighed and wiped his tears. He didn’t need them. Geralt loved him. He knew that. He wouldn’t let this jealousy poison his heart. He’d be a shit Christmas elf if he couldn’t forgive easily, especially when Geralt sounded so remorseful.
“I’m disappointed, yes.” He agreed. “but only because you didn’t trust me enough to tell me.” He knelt beside the snowdrift that was currently Geralt of Rivia and cupped his husband’s face in his hands.
“I’m… sorry.” Geralt refused to meet his eyes.
Jaskier kissed Geralt’s forehead. “I know, dear heart. I know.”
“Forgive me?”
Jaskier smiled weakly at his husband. “Of course. That doesn’t mean I’m not still hurting though, Geralt, but I forgive you.”
“You’ll come to Kaer Morhen this winter?”
Jaskier frowned. He’d spent Christmas at Kaer Morhen last year. This year he was due to go back to the North Pole. He had instruments to enchant and Christmas hits to pass around Earth. Whilst Earth wasn’t generating as much Spirit as the Continent, things had improved in the last couple of decades. Now that the Christmas elves could use Spirit again there were traces of magic on Earth once more and the children believed in Santa for a little longer with every year that passed.
Jaskier was incredibly proud of that achievement, but it did mean that he couldn’t abandon his home and his work to be with Geralt every year at Christmas.
He shook his head. “I have to work.”
“So I’ll come with you.” Geralt said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument.
Jaskier sighed and nodded.
It was time. He couldn’t hide his home from his husband any longer. They both needed to face the music of his fellow elves, and the North Pole Realm.
“Alright then. Yeah.” He appraised Geralt’s snow covered outfit. The black armour that Geralt never seemed to change out of, unless Jaskier literally forced him to.
He pictured Geralt stomping around the North Pole with his swords and his black clothes and his grumpy expression, and he promptly burst out laughing.
His husband would look like a bull in a china shop.
“What?” Geralt growled which only made Jaskier laugh harder. He brushed some of the snow from Geralt’s silvery hair and kissed him chastely before rubbing their noses together.
“You, darling witcher, will need to change before you get anywhere near the North Pole Realm.” He sniggered at Geralt’s look of horror.
“No bells.”
“Yes! Bells!” Jaskier clapped his hands together and with a flick of his wrist, Geralt had a shining silver bell attached to his usual black leather hair tie. He tilted his head and reached round to flick the bell.
“Jaskier!” Geralt snarled and lunged for him.
Jaskier grinned and frost hopped away before running down the mountain. Only this time he was sure Geralt would follow him.
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atopearth · 3 years
Text
Piofiore: Fated Memories Part 1 - Nicola Francesca Route
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Okay, I pre-ordered this game because I loved the art and I have a secret fetish (not so secret anymore now) for mafia stuff LOL. There's just something about it that makes me love it even if it's trashy, I guess it's the setting that always amuses me. Anyway, Gilbert looks the hottest to me but it seems like you can only do his route last? It's okay, let's see how this goes~~ The lawlessness and how the different Mafia families control respective territories is what I dig~ I hope this will give me what I wanted from Ozmafia loll. Omg wow, Elena and everyone is so pretty as well. Anyway, it's kinda awkward to hear them call the heroine Lili (her name is Liliana) because my name is Lily! Lol! I'm not a good girl like her though hahaha, she seems to be a nice girl that's grateful to the church for raising her and wants to do the same for all the other children. Is Roberto not an LI? I mean, he looks pretty good too...🥺 Oooh, I was planning on doing the Nicola route first but I didn't even realise this fluffy kinda curly hair guy was him! I'll take him, he's pretty cuteee. I love how he winked at Lili and she got a bit startled and bumped into Roberto making her drop her lemons, it was gentlemanly of Nicola to come and pick it up for her. On the other hand, Roberto is such a stick in the mud lolll, like dude, it's cool to want to change things but you wanna understand the system here? Anyway, Nicola seems like a nice pushy person haha.
Ooh these meanwhile stories/reels are pretty cool! I like them since you get to see what other people are doing~ Anyway, omg I was wondering why Yang sounded familiar, it's Accelerator's (To Aru Majutsu no Index) VA!! I didn't like Yang's appearance but I might have to change my mind now because I love his voice hahaha. Okay, not good, I have a soft spot for Orlok too, not only is he hot and cute at the same time, his voice is so demure but warm, I love it!! I can't choose my favourite🤣 Lmao, I'm using a walkthrough and everyyyy answer I pick is different from what should be picked hahaha, I guess Nicola is not for me hahaha! Anyway, I was wondering why Gilbert's voice sounded familiar and it's the same VA as Okita Souji from Hakuouki! Okita wasn't my favourite though, character and voice wise so hmm, but I do love Gilbert's looks the most haha. Let's see, it's funny but it seems like everyone I was not interested in (Yang and Orlok) when I first picked up the game are now the ones I'm most interested in hahaha. Dante and Gilbert's looks are the best though~ Anyway, back to the story, Gilbert seems like a much more chill mafia boss than I thought haha. Omg when Elena got stabbed, I was like nooo, not the sweet pretty girl!! Thankfully, she didn't die because of Orlok saving them and taking Elena to the hospital. Lmao at Orlok asking Lili if she can run and then deciding that actually it's faster if he just carries her lol.
Well, I'm glad Nicola saved her before those thugs got to her, but dang, he was ruthless. Hmm, assuming that Lili and Elena were targeted for human trafficking just like all the other girls that supposedly "left" the town to go to city, why did those thugs say they'll get in trouble for doing it to nuns?🤔 Because they know that the Falzone family protect the church since they believe that they have what they possess right now because of the blessings of the land, so the Falzone family would take action if they hurt nuns? But then in that meanwhile story, they attacked the Falzone family members so...it can't be that simple? I would assume the most obvious answer is that another family or outsider is killing all these people rather than the Lao-Shu but we shall see~ How sweet of Nicola to stand guard for her to sleep peacefully! I still think there's something about Nicola that I can't trust right now, but having someone warm up some milk and honey for you, lull you to sleep and help you vent out your fears from everything that just happened is something I can't help but be touched by. It felt very comforting to see Nicola do all that for Lili.
Omg, is it just me or does Nicola look better without a hat, and Dante looks better with a hat?? Hahaha. Aww Leo sounds so cute and thoughtful, he'll be a nice bodyguard for Lili. I'm so hungry with all the descriptions of the good food lmao, all the mains and desserts sound so yummm🥺🥺 Aww, Nicola doesn't like lardo/pork lard but he still ate the broiled bream Lili made with it🥺 So, um just because the abductions stopped, the police closed the case on it? Like, don't they need to find a culprit or if there's something like a syndicate? Anyway, Roberto needs to get off his high horse, especially since he seems to think the police has no fault in anything and that the Mafia are bad because they're the Mafia more than actually finding reprehensible actions with them, but I guess the Mafia's actions make themselves seem above the law so I can't blame Roberto, but he really needs to reel in his emotions and thoughts if he wants to properly deal with them lol. Honestly though, Lili said Nicola was surprisingly harsh with how he dealt with the subordinate that let Roberto into the estate, but I don't think he was harsh at all, he didn't even punish him lol, and really, Nicola's right, Roberto had no business coming in and should not have been allowed in for no reason, especially if anything happened. Nicola is such a tease though, making Lili feed him the crostata in appreciation of him loll (btw it was nice of Lili to bake something for Dante to thank him for allowing her to stay here so comfortably).
Awww, although he kinda took her off guard, it was cute how Nicola laid on her lap to rest since he hasn't had much time to sleep lately considering all the family members that have been killed recently. Stylistically, Yang looks pretty dang cool, but omg, not sure what Lao-Shu would be in Chinese or if it's made up but it keeps making me think of mice because that's how you pronounce mice in Mandarin hahahaha; Yang the master of the mice family hahaaha🤣 I'm not sure why exactly the Lao-Shu or whatever in particular want to kill Lili but I can understand why she begged Dante and Nicola to let the guy go even though she nearly died. On the other hand, it's nice to see more of the "less nice" parts of being in the Mafia haha, I do feel sorry for the guy since he seemed to have done it for his family, but I don't at the same time because that means he chose to endanger the whole Falzone family for them, I'm sure that with them, the Mafia family should be just as important as their own little family or even more important, and technically, instead of betraying Dante and them, he should have told them what was happening. Him betraying the Falzone basically means that he was willing to potentially give up on their lives to save his own and his family's and that definitely shouldn't be tolerated. Regardless though, it must have been shocking for Lili to see Nicola so ruthless and cut the guy's fingernail and ear off. Honestly, at this point though, I wouldn't be surprised if the one that's causing all this turmoil and killing Dominico (one of the higher up members in the Falzone) is actually Roberto lol.
I can imagine Nicola betraying the family, but I don't feel like he would ever betray Dante. But that CG of him pointing the gun at Lili was very pretty I have to admit haha. Anyway, it's amusing to think that the Visconti Family are kinda branched off from the Falzone Family after disagreeing with how the Falzone prioritise blood kin for the bosses/positions, I wonder how Gilbert feels about Dante and them. I can't say that I like the Nicola and Lili pairing but I do admire Lili for doing her best to try to communicate properly with Nicola and understand him despite his harshness towards her. LMAO at the corny scenario Gilbert made up to make Nicola protect her and show he really cares for Lili. Kid Dante is so cute, I can see why Nicola would want to protect him like a big brother🥺 Anyway, I really like how Lili is the one initiating talks with Nicola to try and get any opportunity to get to know him better, like in a sense she does feel a bit weirdly desperate and too nice, but he's the only one she really knows here and she's always appreciated how kind he was back at Falzone, so for him and for her current situation, it would be beneficial to try and understand his actions better haha. Hmm, so I guess the reason Nicola wants to destroy the Falzone family is because he wants to free Dante from the Mafia since Dante always hated being forced to do all these things as a child.. Aww, did Dante bring along the traitor Falzone member to the Burlone Mafia meeting to indirectly tell Nicola that he'll forgive him if he comes back?
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Honestly, I feel sorry for Marco having to deal with the shit Roberto causes all the time, sometimes I think back to when I first started the game thinking Roberto was hot and needed a route, and now I kinda regret even that thought because he's such a shit LOL. Anyway, although I feel sorry for Marco, I have to admit that it feels weird with Marco's experience and keen eye to neglect how deluded Roberto is getting. It also annoys me to think about those Rome higher ups that threw Roberto here to "learn something", like uh, I don't know what logic you went with, but for someone so hell bent on his own form of justice to go to a lawless area sounds like a crappy idea. Anyway, it was obvious that Roberto was going to shoot Nicola and Lili would shield him, it's just nice that her arm only got grazed, but that's probably already too much for Nicola lol. I have to agree with Yang that in the long term, it's much easier to just kill off Roberto now, and they're really too soft to let this crazy dog run around, I mean I doubt it's difficult for any of them to "kill him" without a trace to them. Okay, I expected the kiss but it was still nice to see, so cute lol🥺 I guess at least now Nicola can kinda understand to treasure himself and his own life more through Lili wanting to protect him with her life. OKAY, I am so sad, I expected it when Roberto appeared, but it was so sad to see him kill Marco because he protected Dante. I know Yang kinda "manipulated" him into delving deeper into his self-serving justice, but really, I'm sure he would have come to this point himself anyway because he obviously doesn't listen to others and definitely needs some counselling more than anything, but geez, poor Marco, he deserved to reach his retirement🥺
It was nice to see Nicola finally properly open up to Lili even though what he said is something we already knew. Her confession was cute~ Honestly, I find it kinda silly how easily the people have been swayed into thinking that Nicola is actually responsible for every killing and bad thing that has happened just through Roberto's lie saying Marco's last words were that Nicola did it (and rumours), since I personally feel like regardless of him being a traitor or not, it's a bit ridiculous to pin it on him other than because of your personal feelings. Anyway, Roberto's arrogance makes me want to punch him in the face every time he talks now and I hope his downfall will be satisfying loll, but yeah, as expected, Roberto was the serial killer too. I love how chill Gilbert is though, just strolling to Dante's place like they're friends haha. I also love how much both Dante and Nicola love and care for each other that they'd rather risk their own lives than the other's. I'm happy that Dante told Nicola to go and protect Lili from Roberto, since at least Dante can take care of himself and he's got the Visconti, but Lili doesn't really have anyone she can trust. Well, Roberto gets more and more insane by the second~ I feel sorry for the poor innocent people he shot... Anyway, lmao at the typo when Nicola shot Roberto, way to kill the supposedly cool scene! Hahaha. Otherwise, I'm not too sure about the publishing saying Nicola's betrayal was all done to lure out the killer and was actually a joint operation between the Falzone and Visconti, like why would the serial killer care if he's a traitor or not? Anyway, considering how the Lao-Shu are gone after this debacle, was it really smart or worth it for Yang to have used Roberto for his schemes knowing how crazy the guy was? It was so cute how Gil kept teasing Nicola about going back to face Dante and being honest with him about why he betrayed the Falzone. I'm glad he could finally tell him, and I'm happy that Dante understood his intentions pretty much immediately. As expected though, even though Dante does feel bound by his bloodline and the family, the Falzone will always be his home and it is a place and gathering of people he'll want to protect no matter what, and that includes Nicola, so rather than feeling like his freedom is being sacrificed now, I'm sure he's happy that he has so many people who believe in him and want to follow him.
Awww I thought the ending was going to give another kiss CG when he asked if he could kiss her! I'm so sad loll! Okay, all good, that best ending CG was hot hahaha. As for the good ending, I'm not sure why Nicola had to kill Roberto like that when he already saved Lili? I felt like there were many other ways to handle that situation and he just took the fastest one that was most disadvantageous to him. Regardless though, Nicola and Lili running away from Burlone and finding happiness going from place to place is pretty cute in its own way, like look at that CG!! Lili has impeccable hair and clothes even on the run, they're obviously having the time of their lives hahaha. Omggg, that tragic ending, I knew Nicola would go a bit nuts after finding out that Dante is dead, but that ungrateful guy!! He literally killed Gil (although Gil should have known better to guard against him imo since he knew how important Dante was to him), like I know it was a mutually beneficial relationship, but c'mon, Gil is like the nicest and most courteous Mafia boss and treated him so well, ugh. I won't forgive you, Nicola. Although, I do have to say, our Mafia bosses all sure died easily! I know it was for the dramatic effect but loll. Hmm, I feel like since Dante died, Nicola is crazy enough to go back to the Falzone family just to kill everyone in it to kinda take revenge on them for being the reason for Dante's death (edit: I kinda wanted this kind of tragic end XD). Honestly, Lili shouldn't enable Nicola especially considering how he's basically raping her but I guess it's not like she can escape anymore anyway since she knows that she doesn't really have a choice, and Nicola told her that too. Okay, the tragic ending was more tame than I thought because I honestly thought he was going to kill everyone hahhaha, he only held Lili in the cage of her room never allowing her to meet anyone so that he can always protect her, which although creepy is understandable since if someone like Dante could die, he's gotta protect someone super frail like her, pretty nice CG too. Bad ending 1 is kinda confusing though, like why did Nicola need to kill her when he was betraying Dante? I'm sure he could have escaped regardless lol, like umm, don't you like her?!
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Overall, Nicola and his route was all right but definitely not a favourite. I guess I'm just not into him, although I do love his relationship with Dante and how much they both care for each other, it was probably the best part of the route, because it was so much more touching and heartwarming than any of the other romantic scenes with Lili haha. I guess for Nicola, Lili just had to be really accommodating with him and chase him all the time, but I feel like the story lacked showing why Lili had such conviction to believe in Nicola like that and be with him no matter how he treated her. Like, aside from being flirty, a bit pushy and nice, he really didn't do enough for me to think, yeah, he's worth all this trouble haha. His reason for betraying the Falzone was understandable and of course quite one-sided but you could see why he came to that conclusion so I liked how much he thought about Dante and how much he was willing to sacrifice for him. Oh, and I thought there was going to be some flashback to why he seems to have liked her since the beginning but I guess not LOL. Anyway, the last part was probably the weakest part plot wise imo, but it was okay. Otherwise, I'm sad that Roberto turned out to be a crazy guy hahaha. 
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Text
Finally finished the ZR5K training app! This has changed some of my personal Five headcannons, so I decided to write them all out
Warning: this gets a lot longer than I originally intended. and a lot more angsty than intended.
The Story Begins and Week 1
Five is terrified to say the least
She had barely gotten used to Mullins before she ended up at Abel
It doesn’t take long for her to figure out that she would prefer to be anything but the new Runner Five. She hasn’t known Sam for long, but she can tell he’s been through some stuff. She wishes her existence caused him less pain
She literally doesn’t know how to accept the old Runner Five’s bag. She definitely doesn’t even use it for a while
And being new makes her feel like the ultimate third wheel. Maxine is nice, but she’s close with Sam. Also Maxine is training her and it just feels weird.
And Jody is nice to her, but they’re certainly not close yet.
She feels very alone. Her first week at Abel is rough. And she does end up reading Rajit’s book, because what else is she going to do.
Week 2
Sam terrifies her
She knows enough about Abel to know that Sam means a lot to a lot of people. And she is angry with him for putting her, the new runner, in the position of protecting him. on her SECOND week of TRAINING.
She, of course, feels for him. But she also knows that Sam must hate being out with her and talking to her. The old Runner Five’s replacement. Especially when he goes rogue and runs off to find Alice’s wallet.
But she is just angry and upset with him.
And at herself for existing.
If she wasn’t avoiding Sam before this week, she certainly was now.
She keeps the ax Janine gives her in the old Runner Five’s bag with the dagger. She doesn’t want to use them, but knows she will have to someday.
Week 3
It’s clear that everyone is worried about Sam
Five tries to not think about it, and fails
It helps when people are out keeping her company during her trainings, although she doesn’t know how she feels about Francesca or Chris. But at least they’re a good distraction. For the most part.
She very much appreciates the notebook and pens she gets from Chris, because she is able to draw again.
Even if Chris made her train with a tied up zom for them.
The can of food and hospital pass also find a home in the bag she will need to use eventually.
When she hears that Sam may be joining her again next week, she tries to ignore the anxiety bubbling up inside of her
But she knows she’s making progress with her training. And she tries to allow herself to feel good about that for a moment
Week 4
She’s avoided Sam for a couple of weeks now, and now he’s just back and can’t even address her.
She hates how high school it feels. Like they went through a bad break up and are learning to be friends again or something. Even if their situation is nothing like that.
She’s annoyed and sad and tired.
Jody is a bundle of joy though and Five can’t be sad around her
When Sam joins her for her second work out, Five feels every single emotion for a brief moment before she just tunes everything out and tries to focus on her training
But Sam just keeps talking about Alice and Alice’s sister. And Five just feels everything again: annoyed, inadequate, frustrated, upset.
And then he has the audacity to laugh at her while she’s training.
She feels like this is how Martha Jones must’ve felt when traveling with the Tenth Doctor
She does not like Sam
She doesn’t want to like Sam
But when she hears about Alice’s sister she goes soft, just for a moment. She thinks of her sisters and how, if it were her, she would want them to have closure too.
And she already knows that she’s going to help Sam out. If only for that reason.
When she’s able to assist in saving Runner Six, it makes her feel the best she has felt at her time at Abel so far.
And when she gets the gift from Evan, she is incredibly touched.
Maybe she wouldn’t live up to the previous Runner Five, but maybe she would be a half-decent runner.
Week 5
She is very intimidated by Janine, but thinks it’s sweet how she also worries about Sam
Also, it was fun hearing Maxine’s reactions. Maybe they could be friends after all. 
As much as she decided that she doesn’t mind helping out for Alice’s sister, there was something about Sam’s involvement that just frustrated her
Sam brought back her overwhelming feeling of inadequacy whenever he was around during her trainings. As much as she tried to ignore those thoughts, they were especially prominent whenever he was present.
She never took compliments well, but she hates Sam’s compliments
She knows he doesn’t mean them
And she doesn’t want him to thank her for helping Alice
She definitely doesn’t want that
But she’s civil to him. Because everyone has been through enough.
Her third work out kept her spirits up, because Jody is an absolute delight.
She’s known Jody for 5 weeks but if anything were to happen to her she would kill everyone at Abel and then herself.
But it was super fun to get out to run for yarn with Jody. 
Week 6
She thinks Sam is too hard on Rajit
His novel wasn’t terrible
But then Rajit says something about Francesca being mind controlled and she thinks maybe, just maybe, Sam might have a point
But just because Rajit has a wild imagination doesn’t mean Sam gets to be rude
And she knows she needs to get used to Sam. He is the radio operator. He will be running most of her missions once she’s done with her training.
But it’s tough
And then there was Janine and Sara talking about her. Which definitely didn’t give her the warm and fuzzies.
The rec center pass also finds a home in the old Runner Five bag. She’s not ready for that yet.
And then Maggie just had to get out on a run before she was ready.
And Five has to save her again
Training was rough this week
Week 7
When Sam asks to join on her warm up, she tries to stay open-minded
She hopes that helping out with Alice’s sister will offer him some closure
Because as much as Sam frustrates her, he also grew on her
She understands why so many people worry and care about him, because he is a genuinely good and kind person
And it isn’t his fault that she’s insecure either. She knew that was a problem long before the zombie apocalypse lol.
She just hopes that she stops feeling weird around him soon. She’s tired.
Jody runs with her again on her next training and the small break from Sam helps
Five doesn’t know how to feel about the Francesca situation, but she’s just glad that no one thought that she was the one going going around and stealing stuff
She’s starting to feel like Abel could be home. And she’s not sure that she wants to feel happy about that.
When Evan comes out for a run with her, she’s nervous for a variety of reasons
And blushes when both Sam and Maxine compliment her progress
Five’s face has always gotten red while running, ever since she was young. She never liked it, but she doesn’t mind it that day. Evan doesn’t need to know how red her face would get from his compliments.
But she has never felt more ready to be a runner after her run with Evan
Week 8
She’s glad to hear that Sam found Alice’s sister and that they’ll both get the closure they need
She already knows that she’s going to help deliver Alice’s belongings to her sister before either Sam or Maxine can ask
And Five knows that it’s still partially because she has sisters
But at this point, she can’t even deny that it’s not partially for Sam’s benefit as well
She hopes that once her final training mission is over things can start to feel normal, and maybe she can start to actually be friends with Sam and Maxine
And maybe the others too
One step at a time
The trip to Bert Airfield is more rough than she would’ve like it to be
She didn’t like being cut off from comms that long, but she figured it may be like that sometimes
But she makes it and gets the package there on time
If Five was told before the apocalypse that she would be outrunning zoms and professionally running for her survival, she would’ve thought you were crazy
And it’s only been 8 weeks, but Abel feels safe. And she feels like it could be her home, for now.
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elejah-wonderland · 4 years
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Hellbound/2
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Fanfiction
Part 2
This a tvd+to fanfiction story. Totally AU.
Premise:
The  Mikaelsons helped the Mystic Falls Scoobies fight a clan of ancient  werewolves called the Hundings. Klaus and Caroline paid the ultimate  price, as well as Damon. But as it is the case in the magical world of  the Mystic Falls vampires, death is not the end.
There is  also a new adventure looming for the Mystic Falls Scoobies and their now  friends, the Original vampires, as everything is somehow always  connected to them. And so, they are Hellbound…
Main pairings_ Elijah MIkaelson x Elena Gilbert,
Rebekah Mikaelson x Stefan Salvatore
Kol Mikaelson x Bonnie Bennett
Damon Salvatore x Katherine Pierce
☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆
thanks for reading - xoxo
In Halifax, Nova Scotia
Elijah woke up before anyone and sat down in the garden of the house they were inhabiting while they were in Nova Scotia. Taking a photo from his bag, his mind wondered back to the events a few months back.
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Flashback
Mystic Falls, The Mikaelson House
"I suppose you are who I think you are!" Elijah said coolly.
The woman was calm not fearing the vampire and then introduced herself.
"My name is Eilif. I am Esther’s cousin -like you have been told by my messenger."
"Where is Klaus?" the vampire wanted to know, still not moving or showing any pleasant emotion to the woman.
"Your cousin is safe," the woman replied, "but at present I cannot tell you where his body is - not before we resolve the family matter and his allegiance to this family."
"What family? Klaus is my brother!"
"No. He is your cousin - as I am your mother!" the woman said looking at the vampire with apprehensive, but steady eyes.
“What are you talking about? You are not my mother - my mother is Esther.”
“No, she is not. It is a long story. The time has come to reveal your true identity.”
“What?” Elijah looked at the woman in completely disbelief. Elijah drew a deep breath.
“I am a norn. A being that dwells between the world of men and the world of keepers of universe, living in the place the humans called heaven, but in actual fact my home is the wind, the river, the woods, the mountains, the gletschers, the meadows. We are keepers of  nature, we can see and hear things but can never meddle, unless the elders ordered it in certain occasions. This time I could not stand by and let you, my son, nor your cousins be warned of the danger that is arising. I could have left you clues, but my mother's heart prevailed this time. I wanted to step out many times and made myself known to you, especially after you had become a vampire. That had changed so much for me. You becoming a supernatural being, made it more easily to follow you.”
“Are you ok?” Elena said breaking the Original’s thoughts as she stepped out into the garden.
“I am fine. Just - thinking about - everything - her.” Elijah said putting the frame with the picture down on the table.
“It is kind of still mind-blowing that you are - a prince.” Elena said.
“I am not.”
“But your father was a king.” Elena then said. “This is so like Games of Thrones.
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing. It’s a TV show - and books - nevermind. She said that more is to come and that all this with the Hundings is far from over.” Elena now reminded the vampire.
“Yes.This is why I wish I could get in touch with her.”
“She said that she won’t be able to come back - or?”
“There must be a way.” Elijah said, and then put a small smile on, his eyes sparkling with warmth. “I wanted to tell you that I - had fun last night - as Kol would put it.”
“I’m glad. We need to have fun. Too much sad things happened - and Caroline and - other would want us to have fun, too. But talking about Caroline - I called Jeremy this morning. They didn’t get in touch with him. He tried, but it looks like the link is broken or something.” Elena said.
“Well, one good thing is - they are together.” Elijah said.
“Yeah. And we haven’t lost them completely.
*
Meanwhile
In Yarmouth, Nova Scotia
Francesca Guerrera sat down with one of her confindantes.
"You done it?! And did you manage to find the amulet?!
"No. The old woman wouldn't talk. It wasn't in the house." Oliver said.
"We need it for the unification ritual,"Francesca said,"it's in their family. Where the hell has the woman hid it?!"
"According to the legend you need the blood of the werewolf trinity of the three oldest bloodlines...and Jackson is dead?! Plus, the ancient witch that apparently has the spell still is nowhere to be found?!"
"I have it all covered. I will let you on a little secret if you promise to be the faithful wolf you swore in blood to be."
"I swore more than that my Queen" Oliver said.
"I know. This will also be a test of your fidelity" Francesca said.
Oliver now eagerly waited for her to let him in on the secret and she said smirking, "Jackson Dumas is alive!"
"Why the pretence?!" Oliver shoot up.
"To break Hayley's spirit."
"But she still has the girl. How is it breaking her spirit?!"
"You are one dumb wolf. Sexy, but dumb. You don't know about anything if love, being alpha and wolf families?! "
"The whole pack would look after the young?!"
"Not if you prove that the young is not from their bloodline" Francesca said.
"Hayley had the girl with someone else and not with Jackson?! But he claimed her as her own?!"
"Yes. But her father comes from an ancient bloodline too. And we have the trinity we need. It worked perfectly"
"Who is the father of the child?!" Oliver asked.
"Mason Lockwood" Francesca said.
*
In Halifax
Kol woke up with a slight headache. The magical herbs to control him had a side-effect and he hated taking them, but he knew that if he stopped, he wouldn’t be able to keep his blood lust under control, as well as his temper.
Too many werewolves in the club proved to be too much for Kol. It was good Elijah managed to anticipate Kol's seizure moment when he ripped into a woman. He managed to get him off, compelling the woman to forget what had happened. Elena was right behind him to heal the girl. To Bonnie it looked like they just did everything in two seconds. Kol was fuming, but Elijah was convincing enough to bring him back into his mellow state somehow.
“Good morning” Elijah said to his brother Kol as he and the other’s joined him in the kitchen.
"I thought you have things under control?!" Elijah said angrily, but still in a very calm manner.
"I don't need a babysitter?!" Kol sifted.
Elijah sighed a little. He didn't want to continue with the argument or act like a smart older brother.
"It wasn't my intention, but you have to exercise control. You need to manage it a little bit better! We don't want to attract unwanted attention. At least not till we get more information." Elijah said.
Kol agreed. Controling his emotions and instincts have never been his strong point, not even as a child. His heart ached for being tossed away by Sophie, spuring emotions that made him want to lash out.
Elijah's phone buzzed and he looked at the message that Elena sent.
'Following a guy with a triple crescent tattoo. Couldn't be compelled"
He updated Kol about the message.
"So, the night proved to be fruitful. You know what such good luck means?!'
"Yes. Too good to be true. They know we are here!" Elijah said.
"You are not worried about Elena?!" Kol asked.
"She can handle herself. She is not a hopeless little girl"
"No, she is very much a shield-maiden, I see why you admire her so much." Kol said. "I admire her for a lot more than her ability to fight."
“You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”
“And what if I am?” Elijah said tilting his head making a little pout.
"Not surprising - knowing your history with the doppelgangers.” Kol remarked.
“This is different. Also, everything about me and Tatia wasn’t true.” Elijah said.
“About you killing her, but that night at Samhain - you were together?”
“We were - but -”
“What?”
“She didn’t want to commit.” Elijah said.
“Oh, really?”
“Yes.” Elijah said followed by a silent sigh.
“I am out. Still hungry. This pig’s blood is vile.”
"I thought you’d be homebound. Wasn't Sophie supposed to be here by now -or is your heart swayed in another direction?!" Elijah referred to Kol and Bonnie’s good time the night before.
"The Bennet witch?! Hm -she’s got spunk, I must admit that." Kol said chuckling a bit.
*
Elsewhere
Elena and Bonnie followed the crescent tatoo guy to his destination. He walked into a house that looked very expensive, in a wealthy part of the city.
"He couldn't be compelled." Elena said to Bonnie."But it wasn't vervain?!"
"It was hilarious watching you play a silly drunk explaining to him that you see psychodelic something in his eyes. Still can't get over it that you can do all vampire stuff and you are not one?!"
"Feels weird too, trust me. I can be an actress, right! Never thought of that"
"We are now high school drop outs." Bonnie remarked.
"I know. When all this is over, I will do school. Did you know that Elijah actually has degrees in arhitecture, World literature several times over."
"He seriously went to university?!" Bonnie couldn't believe it.
"Yep. When he was a man, it was expected of him to be a warrior and a farmer, but he loved construction."
"So weird when you talk about them as normal humans who had dreams and wishes," Bonnie remarked,"so, what’s this thing about you doing drama?! I thought you wanted to be a doctor?"
"I don't know. I wanted to be a doctor like my dad, but now I don't know."
"The way things go, I kinda doubt we will ever have a normal life." Bonnie said. “It also gets me that you are this enhanced human and that you can compell and do like everything the Originals do.”
“It’s crazy - yeah. Ok. Let’s look for the - whatever we are looking for.”
They collected enough info about the place. Elena now called Elijah. The witch and the doppelganger caught a taxi and went back to the Compound.
*
Back in the Mikaelson’s current compound
"When the witches channelled the Hunding magic and their covens, the balance between our two worlds was disturbed." Sophie said over the  video call from New York.
"Right, and that means exactly what?" Rebekah said waiting for a very bad answer.
"It's our fault, too." Sophie continued.
"Sophie, please no riddles. Tell us what is going on?!" Rebekah urged the witch to speak clearly.
"They used a very potent dark magic. And I have done that too, with enhancing your ability to fight against them."
Stefan now jumped into the conversation, "And now we have strange side effects, right?!"
“Yep.” Sophie said.
"I don't feel anything." Rebekah uttered.
"Not yet. I tried to check things out about it, but I have no knowledge of it. I will need to get to Eilif somehow."
"Elijah said that she would not be coming back?!" Rebekah said.
"Well, we need to get hold of her. The disturbance is not only here, but also in the spirit world." Sophie said.
"Don't tell me that Sigrid Mikaelson has something to do with it?!" Rebekah scoffed a little.
"I have not found anything about her. That is why we need Eilif." Sophie replied and looked at Elijah, who came into the living room.
“Can you get to - my mother?” Elijah asked.
“I will try.” Sophie said. “We need answers.”
“Right.” Elijah said, and updated the witch on Elena and Bonnie finding the place where the triple crescent guy lived.
“They are something called ‘the shadowhunters’ - directly linked to Hell,” Sophie said, “and according to what I know - the Hell witches!”
“Hell witches?!” Elijah repeated.
“Yes. Do you know about them?”
Elijah went quiet, nodding a little.
“Right, you guys, I will see what else I can find here. See you in NOLA soon.” Sophie said.
“Yes.” Rebekah said and as Sophie hung up, she turned to Elijah. “You ok?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“You are still our brother, same as Klaus. Nothing’s changed.” Kol said.
“I know - still - “ Elijah started but stopped.
“It’s always and forever no matter whether you are a Mikaelson or not.” Rebekah said. 
“Thank you.” Elijah put a small smile on. So many things had changed in the past months, some good and some awkwardly unusual. With all the strange revelations, they were closer than ever, and his heart was glad.
*
In the spirit world, Klaus and Caroline found themselves in an unusual place, as they finished their talk with Lexi, and as they tried to get out of Caroline's house, they found themselves in Yarmouth, Nova Scotia. But there was no town, only a viking settlement.
"Where are we?" Caroline asked. "I know this is so weird in this world, but how do we get to do time traveling?"
"There is no time here." Klaus explained." I believe this is some foul magic."
"And I thought, being dead will exempt us from the whole thing." Caroline said.
"Well, the note about finding Sigrid Mikaelson didn't come by regular post?!" Klaus said.
"No. It would be too weird to have something regular." Caroline said. She looked at him now as there was a certain change in him as if he got fond memories return to him from time passed. "You look like you have come home?!"
Klaus smiled a little in his usual fashion and took her by the hand, "Come...let us walk through the village."
Soon it was clear to them that they could not be seen by the people. They could not hear them, but only observe them. Till a woman came up to them. Klaus recognized straight away by the woman's dress that she was a witch. She addressed him in old norse, asking him to follow her into the woods.
"Ok- can you translate?" Caroline sifted.
"We are ghosts and before that we were vampires and she actually summoned me!"
"You, of course!" Caroline was miffed.
"Sorry love, us." Klaus said.
"I bet it is a Mikaelson thing" Caroline remarked.
They stopped at a point in the woods where a white oak tree stood among different pine trees.
Caroline could see Klaus cringe seeing the tree.
Then the woman spoke again in old norse, "What is she saying?" Caroline was annoyed for not understanding a word.
"Basically, the Hell witches spoke to her and apparently the disturbance in the spirit world believe it or not is ours to resolve," Klaus turned to Caroline, "according to her, the Gods have sent for us"
"Gods, right?! What else will I hear, seriously, does she know that we are vampires?!"
"Actually, we are not vampires anymore, just ghosts, who apparently according to her have a direct link to Asgard!" Klaus smirked a little.
Caroline rolled her eyes and huffed.
They could both see that the witch looked in awe and slight horror as she saw a woman appear  from nowhere and addressed Klaus and Caroline.
With a hand wave she closed the veil between the witch and them.
"She needn't know what is coming yet!" Skuld, one of the norns said to Caroline and Klaus.
"Who are you?" Caroline wanted to know.
"My name is Skuld, people refer to me as the norn of the future, although fate is such a diverse thing and it is interwoven like the roots of Yggdrasil. If it wasn't so all would be so much easier. Anyway, not to divert from the serious matter, which is the disturbance in magic and balance of the natural world.  We can hear, see, know things but we cannot directly participate, although it has been done before, and because of it mayham is in front of our doors."
"This is going to be lengthy!"- Klaus then said.
Skuld smiled a little "yes, it will. It started a long time ago, people say before time. Vampires, that you were, are also creatures from before time. "
"Just tell us what we have to do! I guess we have to save the spirit world?!"- Caroline interrupted.
"Yes. If you put it that simply. I am here to pass my magic to you and make you a valkyrie, although you already are one!" Skuld said to Caroline taking hold of her hand.
Caroline could feel the same surge of magic go through her as Sophie had done with the enhancement spell.
Caroline could now sea a seal on her wrist as if she was branded. Klaus heard stories as a boy about shield-maidens who would tatoo the valkyrie wings.
"The Hell witches are like no other witches you have seen so far. They will use magic and swords like they are one." Skuld said.
Caroline now looked at her and asked her about how and when it was going to happen.
"You will know. Soon. Gather your army. I will see you again.” Skuld said and as she appeared, she disappeared.
"Ugh, this is exactly like it happened with Elijah's mom!! They come and go and leave you with no real clue!!" Caroline said and then looked at Klaus as if she just realized what had happened. "Am I supposed to lead a ghost army against those Hell witches?!"
"It appears to be so!" Klaus said smiling at her cheekily and looking at his beloved with great admiration, before he pulled her into a kiss, "I knew there was something so much more to you!”
*
Flashforward
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”We should check everything about the Hell witches. I remember reading about them once when I lived in Marrakesh in the 13th century.” Elijah said.
”We go to Marocco?” Elena cocked a quizzical eyebrow at the Original.
” Yes. There is someone I used to know. An old acquaintance of mine, Aya Al-Rashid knows about them.”
”Ok. Let’s go then.”
13 notes · View notes
sebbybooks · 4 years
Text
Going Through Lighting
Sebastian Stan x Fanfiction
“If he touched her, he couldn’t talk to her,
If he loved her, he couldn’t leave, if he
spoke he couldn’t listen, if he fought he
couldn’t win.” A.R
Deep breaths Franny.
Deep.
Fucking.
Breaths.
At the risk of sounding completely dramatic I was feeling morbidly sick and had to strongly resist the urge to not shout out my frustrations at the top of my lungs. Maybe I was slightly overreacting, but nonetheless I was still petrified. Considering the fact that I was thousands of feet in the air there was nothing in this world that I hated more than flying. Yet there I was headed all the way to California to hear about a surprise from my Dad that apparently couldn't be said to me over the phone.
I inaudibly let out a string of silent curse words that would make a sailor blush. I returned my focus back to my computer screen to finish one of my favorite films of all time in efforts to relax. I was mindlessly watching An Affair to Remember, a movie that by now I have reduced to memory. It was the scene where Terry was racing to get to the Empire State Building to confess her love to Nickie, before a car came whizzing by and hit her. When I suddenly noticed from out of the corner of my eye that the guy sitting next to me had been watching my laptop screen too.
Seeing that he had been caught spying on me he felt obliged to speak up. "You know I really hate that part. Cary Grant's character waited for hours on end and she never even showed up." The guy to my right said as he slightly leans a little closer causing our shoulders to brush. His cologne fills under my nose and I inhale it slowly. It almost duals as an aromatherapy for my anxiety. Almost.
Pulling my wireless headphones from my ears I shift a little in my seat to face him and smiled a sardonic smile. "Are you kidding me?" I gaped. I pressed the space bar on my laptop to pause the movie fully prepared to defend the actions of a fictitious woman from a 1957 melodramatic film classic. "Terry desperately tried to get to him. It wasn't her fault she became paralyzed after the accident. Nickie was clearly obtuse and too stupid to think that even for a second she didn't wait for him!"
I waited for his rebuttal, but oddly enough he remained tight lipped. We stared awkwardly at each other like it was some weird staring contest neither one of us wanted to lose. Eventually I blinked. As soon as I did I took in his appearance and from what I could see on the outside he was fairly decent. Ok I'll admit decent would not have begun to describe his natural attractiveness. His hair was longer on the top and shorter on the sides. You could see shadows of facial hair and tiny bits of gray stubble around his mouth and jawline.
He wore a pair of fitted tailored ash gray trousers and a crisp white Oxford rolled up to his forearm, he certainly wasn't dressed for a long flight. By the looks of his five thousand dollar Cartier wristwatch I wondered what the hell was he doing back in here economy class. My eyes start to stray further down his body and I quit while I was ahead because I could already see the slight bulge of his crotch. To avoid looking like a complete pervert I nip our meaningless conversation in the bud and I hit play on my movie. Right as I'm placing my earbuds back in I hear the faintest laugh come out of him. I bite back on my instinct to keep quite. "Now what?"
"Nothing. . ." His voice trailed off. "Is this your first time flying?" He asks with a knowing looking. Those bright blue eyes bore into me.
"Flying isn't exactly on my list of things that excite me, but no this isn't my first time." I hesitated. "What was it that gave me away?" I asked purely out of curiosity. I gripped my middle finger and index finger tightly to stimulate feeling back into my hand that's started to tingle.
"For starters you were fidgeting in your seat for the longest time and for about a minute or two you stopped squeezing the life out of your hand while you were talking to me. I figured if I came up with something to say you would get distracted and maybe just for a moment you would think about something else so that your fingers would still have functioning nerves in your hand by the time we landed. " He says, and within an instant I dropped them to my lap. I immediately start to cringe at myself.
One would think it would get easier over time and that I would find better ways to at least deal with my fear of being on airplanes. Being an assistant buyer for Saks comes with the territory, but traveling outside of work I typically liked to avoid it at all cost. A fact that seems to escape my father. When he called me a few days ago with an urgency in his voice that made my stress levels skyrocket. Only to be replaced with confusion because it wasn't like my dad to be so secretive about anything. He asked that I come out to see him right away despite it not being a life or death matter. Considering I was all he had and he was adamant about me seeing him. I figured it was all just a rouse for him to just get me to spend more time with him.
"Thanks." I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, forcing my eyes shut hoping that I would disappear from my inability to act normal on airplanes. For a few seconds I believed he had returned to minding his own business. It was silence, and then, "You don't want to know what my name is?" He asks.
I can feel his eyes on me and I purposely keep my head turned away from him. "If I guess Rumpelstiltskin do I get to keep my first born child? Or can you simply not say your name Betelgeuse?" I couldn't stop myself from teasing him. I tried to hide the grin trying to grow on my face. Was I actually smiling?
"Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice." He paused and looked all around him as if he misplaced something. He brought his hands to his chest in a frantic gesture. "I'm still here so nope that's not my name either."
"How unfortunate then." I feigned a sigh. He looked at me as if he had met his match and for some reason I liked the approving look. I easily wanted more. His presence brought a temporary calmness that I didn't want to lose so quickly despite my initial cold shoulder brought on by trepidations from flying. A part of me was actually settled which was something that almost never happened to me on flights. "Francesca. Though every one calls me Franny." I introduced myself. I was still facing forward looking down at my laptop.
"Well it's a pleasure Franny, everyone calls me Sebastian." He said to me. Even the sound out his name in my head silenced the white noise fueling my growing levels of perturbation. After learning the name of the guy who clearly wasn't shamed to admit to liking circa 1950s romance cinematic features such as An American in Paris, To Catch a Thief, and Houseboat. I figured he had taste or oddly was just into films starring Cary Grant. For the most part our conversation mainly consisted of questions that felt straight out of an article that helped people with conversational ice breakers.
Like for instance I learned that he prefers coffee over tea, no siblings, he is an animal lover but has zero pets, he's single, and reads more than he watches television. Oh and that he is single. I had to reiterate that into my brain just to be sure. I made sure to keep my answers to his questions short and sweet because the chances of us speaking again after this flight were slim to none. Guys that looked like him never stayed single for long, and I wasn't interested in competing for his attention alongside the flight attendant who couldn't stop staring at him every chance she got. Which of course he didn't notice and if he did then he was probably use to the attention.
"So Franny is this trip for work or for pleasure?" Sebastian asked.
I was stiff as log in my seat apart from my leg that wouldn't stop bouncing up and down. The pattern in turbulence fluctuated greatly. Almost every ten minutes the plane would jostle which of course in my mind made me think only the worse. "Is this your way of you trying to be helpful again?" I could already feel my pulse spiking.
"Actually it was my way of trying to pry information out of you." This guy was either arrogant or really confident in himself. He was looking down at something on his phone completely unbothered.
"That didn't sound creepy at all." I told him.
"Well I'm assuming it's something really important if it's got you out of your comfort zone." He pushed. All I could think about was that Sebastian had picked the worse time to try and make small talk. I felt the wave of turbulence again and that time it was back to back. Panic was prickling up my spine when everyone was instructed to return to their seats and fasten their seatbelt. We were now experiencing changes in the altitude due to the incoming thunderstorm. Just wanted I needed to hear.
My throat burned. Like I actually felt a burning sensation in the back of my throat. Somehow I still found the ability to muster up sound. "My dad , " I sat upright trying to sit in a more relaxed position. "I think he's lonely and I miss him so yeah here I am." I huffed.
"You're a good daughter." Sebastian nodded as he listened. He didn't know me well enough to offer praise, but suffering through this flight I wanted a damn trophy.
"Since I'm sure you were going to ask me the same I'll go ahead and answer for you." He added. I rolled my eyes playfully as I sucked in a shaky breath. "What's in California?"
Sebastian crossed one of his legs over the other and rested his elbow onto the armrest. He was leaning on it and his body was angled more so in my direction. We were siting so close now that it almost looked like we were sharing a seat. That made the flight attendant who had been gawking at him do a double take in our direction.
His facial expression turned grim and slightly annoyed. I could sense from the tautness in his body language that this was probably a sensitive subject. "This must be parents' weekend." Sebastian's laughed lacked humor. He hesitated on what he was about to say next and he gnawed on his bottom lip for a good fifteen seconds. An for some reason I silently watched him do it.
"My mother went off and got eloped to one of her flavors of the week. Tonight I was suppose to meet the happy couple for the first time. All of this was sprung on me last minute. Finding a flight that left out tonight was finding a needle in a hay stack.” He had as much enthusiasm in his voice as Eeyore. Which was none existent.
"I'm going to be honest with you that sounds awful." I looked at him apologetically. I shook my head at the thought of my dad pulling a stunt like that and not telling me. We might not see eye to eye over everything but we had always been close. Even thinking about it hypothetically dampened my mood.
"Yeah, tell me about it." He glowered. Sebastian rubbed both of his hands over his face and made a noise into his hands that easily passed as a growl or a moan. It didn't matter because now I had both sounds locked into my memory bank. "However, my only bright spot was being able to sit next this raven haired beauty who could use a drink." I was slow to process who he was referring to.
"Hmmm, well now that made me remember I need to dye my hair bright purple." I lied. For some reason I could never seem to take a compliment, especially if it was a flirtatious one. There was no way I could covertly sneak a cursory glance at my appearance to get a glimpse of what he saw. By now I was certain my makeup was splotchy and my lips were chapped from biting them ferociously.
My clothes were every bit of casual I had on a long sleeve black leotard with camel colored high-rise chino pants, and I sported my favorite pair of worn white high tops. When I glanced up at him the tight feeling in my chest was replaced by something entirely different. Indigestion maybe? Sebastian leaned in a little closer and he angled his face closer to my ear. "It would still look sexy on you." He lowered his voice and I can't deny that it was doing sinful things to me.
Not a moment too soon to make matters even more stressful the pilot made an announcement that there was going to be an emergency landing due to the extreme storm brewing in the sky. Which was deemed unsafe and can not be flown above or even around. Mother Nature was really showing her ass tonight. If something else bad was going to happen I would really appreciate if it waited till I wasn't on this flight anymore.
"What's one of your turn offs about a person?" Sebastian casually asked me. My neck turned so fast I swore I broke it. "What?" I coughed.
He tossed a handful of almonds in his mouth while staring off at something ahead. We were about to land and have a layover completely throwing me off schedule. I looked off into the direction he was looking at and on first glance I had no clue where this was coming from. "Franny?" He called out to regain my attention.
"Guys that aren't funny but think they are comedians." I said automatically. Which was a random one considering I had a whole list. "Why do you ask?"
Sebastian shrugged. "Because mine is meaningless eye fucking." He answered bluntly. A couple in front of us immediately turned around in synchronization and stared back at us with a disapproving eye. Sebastian's devil may care act seemed to only trigger them further. When I saw that between was a little boy, feeling embarrassed I mouthed an apology. The mom ceaselessly just shook her head as if we were degenerates.
"Anyway," Sebastian continued like nothing happened. I give him a look. "That woman over there has been eyeing me since I stepped foot on this plane. We keep making this awkward eye contact and I'm grinning back showing all of my teeth because I don't know how else to respond."
So he did notice her watching him.I snorted. "Don't tell me you're shy."
"No. . ." Sebastian paused. "I have shy like tendencies." He could barely keep a straight face at his confession. I wanted to laugh but it was cut short by me being jostled in my seat yet again. I gripped onto the armrest for dear life. All of my tips and tricks to ease my anxiety were failing me. I was headed for full on panic attack.
"Franny?"
"Hold on." I said faintly. Inhaling through my nose and exhaling from my mouth. The tears were coming I could already start to feel them well up in my eyes.
"Give me your hand." Sebastian said as concern filled up his face. This guy knew knew nothing about me apart from me being a total badass when it came to the art of puzzling and that I liked extremely sour gummy worms. We were not friends and I wasn't even sure if we were acquaintances. Sebastian was simply someone to talk to until the plane landed.
"I am not giving you my hand I hardly know you." I said on a exhalation. "You could be a psycho." My voice was a whisper solely on the off chance that someone was eavesdropping and my words could be taken out of context. I wanted to take that chance and trust him but this whole ordeal just seemed so weird.
Sebastian lowered his head closer to me and mimicked my tone. "Or I could be someone who just wants to show a little kindness to the person I'm currently crushing on."
My eyes opened wide and sat there dumbfounded for at least a millisecond while my brain tried to catch up with this cliché I was living in. "Dare I ask but are these recycled pick up lines from middle school?" I quipped.
"Maybe." He answered with a half smile that was making me anxious for all the wrong reasons.
"Normally crushes take longer than an hour to develop." I replied nonchalantly. Sebastian looked up, his eyes locked onto mine. "And yet falling doesn't happen in slow motion."
A nervous laugh escapes from my mouth. I waited to hear a joke or something incredibly inappropriate to indicate that he was just messing with me. My mind was swimming with things to say but they all ended with the same question. What in the actual hell was going on? Seven painfully long minutes dragged on by with my thoughts going back and forth saying do or don't. It's a just a hand Franny and a kind gesture at that. Apart from the modern day wave of creeps what was there to be afraid of? Did I just answer my own question? My musing was interrupted when I heard Sebastian's voice commingle with the sound of feminine laughter.
I looked up over at his seat and low and behold the flight attendant who could barely do her job for salivating over Sebastian the whole flight made her way over to him . That woman was persistent I give her that. She turned her body unnecessarily close into his seat as she tucked an errant strand of brown hear behind her ear. She was obnoxiously fawning over something stupid he said I'm sure. The woman was practically throwing herself on him. Flashing all her pearly whites and batting her long stark black lashes at him. Jesus, there was nothing imperfect about her. She even made her uniform look hot.
I wasn't a jealous person nor did I posses some claim over Sebastian. I am however still human and sooner or later my emotions eventually will get the better of me. Not being able to stand the sound her of lilting laughter. My arm reacted before the rest of my brain could catch up. My actions weren't subtle in the slightest and before I knew it I had my hand wrapped around Sebastian's hand. Their conversation had come to an abrupt halt and I was too embarrassed to see the look on either of their faces. I should've just let go of his hand and acted like a normal person.
It was awkwardly placed on top of his and I instantly regretted the decision when I remembered how clammy it was in comparison to his. Feeling gutsy I finally lifted my head to see that both of their gazes zeroed in on my hand placement. I hated that there was a sense of enjoyment on Sebastian’s face.
I reminded myself that I wasn't competing for Sebastian's attention, but when the flight attendant whose name I do not care to learn looked at me like I was growing a tail from my forehead frowned as she walked away. I couldn't help but give her my best "fuck you too" smile back at her. I was just about to move it away when I felt Sebastian swiftly flip his hand over to fit mine into the palm of his hands.
"How long will you be in Napa Valley?" Sebastian's voice cut through my thoughts as if nothing happened. I was about to say a snappy remark accusing him being a suspect on John Walsh's unsolved mysteries with all of his questions. When I felt the warmth of his hand the moment his fingers unfurled and laced through mine effortlessly . My breath caught when the pad of Sebastian's thumb lightly stroked the side of my hand in a slow circular motion. It wasn't a sensual act we were taking part in and the gesture seemed completely juvenile. I don't think Sebastian was trying to get a reaction out of it either. Truth of the matter was that I couldn't stop feeling like my entire body would combust just from one simple touch.
"Just for a couple of days." I muttered. I was unable to concentrate for that fact he was holding onto me. Was hand foreplay a thing, because this sure felt like it. I felt a twinge of disappointment in my chest because I knew that eventually I was going to have to let go. Gosh did that make me sound crazy? I've known him for five seconds.
"Any chance you'd stick around long enough to grab a cup of coffee with me?"I turned my head to see if he was watching me, but he was staring at everything but me. I studied the sharp contours of the side of his face to see that he was looking straight ahead at the seat in front of him. Could it be? Did I actually make the cool and funny Sebastian nervous?
I scrunched my nose at the speculation. "I don't think you can handle my chaotic energy when I have caffeine." I answered truthfully, which was met with more silence. Sebastian sucked in his bottom lip and quirked his brows in response to what I had just said. Any minute now we were getting ready to land and we hadn't even exchanged phone numbers. "It's a good thing decaf exist." I added.
Sebastian nodded his head slowly and his postured relaxed which suggested he had hoped I changed my mind. " I concur."
"Can I ask you a question?" It felt random and completely out of nowhere but the thought had been sitting on the tip of my tongue since he mentioned it.
"Well it's about damn time you did." Sebastian squeezed my hand and let me tell you the grip was firm. It was putting the kinkiest thoughts in my head and I needed to kill them immediately.
"Are you happy for your mom?" I asked him, I try to steer the conversation from my indecent imagination. It was a question that made him go stoic. His jaw ticked back and forth as he rotated our clasped hands. Sebastian intently stared at the polish on my nails. It was the shade Yank My Doodle by OPI but that was besides the point. It was obvious that he was trying to deflect.
His nod was terse and our eyes connect when he looks up. "She looks for temporary bliss in things or people. Nothing really satisfies her. My mom sees life through rose colored glasses and sooner or later she always ends up disappointed but quickly onto the next ." Sebastian says miserably. "Right now she's clung to a man who owns a small hardware store and has two first names."
I swallow down the lump in my throat. There was absolutely no way the man I had in mind was the same man Sebastian was referring to. I mean there was a lot of men in the Valley that owned their own hardware shops right? "Does his name happen to be Eric Taylor?" My voice came out strangled, because there was just no fucking way.
"Does everyone know this man?" He asked with an entrancing smile that was unnecessarily sexy and so so so unattainable now.
I pulled my hand away like his was made of fire and it didn't nearly hurt as much as the look on Sebastian's face from my sudden action. "I know him alright. He's my father."
58 notes · View notes
tvdiaries-imagines · 5 years
Text
Old Flame: Pt. 5
Warnings: Some violence
Word Count: 2633
OLD FLAME MASTERLIST: CLICK HERE
The amount of supernatural beings in this town has got to be numerously more than Mystic Falls. You learned of a witch named Cassie and her coven working together with Francesca and her werewolves. They even kidnapped someone of your kind. A vampire whose name is Joe. And unfortunately, the white oak stake is missing. Oh no.
You are sitting on the expensive couch with werewolves all around you. Your wrists are tied together with vervain ropes. There’s no way you’d succeed in escaping, especially with this many werewolves around, so you sat tight, knowing that Elijah or whoever is working with him will come to your rescue. As much as you wish it’d be Niklaus, you are aware he cannot due to his weak state from the moonlight rings—a fun fact you learned from a proud Francesca.
Francesca ordered majority of the wolves to do her dirty work for her. The blonde haired male wolf, named Oliver, was not too happy with her plan. You even made a snide remark about her being a coward, which she slapped you across the face for. Her excuse for hiding out in this house like a scared puppy is to ‘ensure the fight doesn’t come to her.’
As you’re uncomfortably bound on the couch with stinging wrists, Francesca is seated at a table nearby with her two werewolf brothers, looking through paperwork.
Out of the blue, you hear a guard outside holler as if he’s been thrown in the air, then a gush of blood splatters on the window. Your eyes immediately lit up, aware that it’s your rescuer.
A frantic Francesca sends a handful of her werewolf guards outside to locate what is happening. But to their misfortune, they all wound up dead in a matter of minutes.
You rise to your feet from elation because you are closer to being rescued. The front door swings open and a severed head rolls in like a ball. You snorted in amusement. Francesca and her brothers slowly saunter towards the entryway. You follow beside them.
Elijah makes his presence known on the porch, grinning. “Elijah.” You whispered aloud in excitement. You attempt to make a run for it towards him, but two of her brothers grasp your arms to hold you back and you groan in frustration. Unfortunately, you remain weak with the vervain ropes wrapped around your wrists.
“Sorry. He can’t come in.” Francesca made known to you. You shot her a glare, wishing you can rip that smirk off of her face.
“Is that so?” Elijah added.
“Where’s Klaus?” She asked. “I told you to bring him to us.”
“Sincerest apologies. Niklaus’s schedule seems to be full today.” Elijah drummed his fingers along the doorway.
“You’re not getting Y/N back until you bring Klaus dead or alive. And you haven’t been invited in, so tough luck, Elijah.”
“You mobsters all suffer from such hubris.” Elijah implied, wiping his fingers with his handkerchief. “Do you know Al Capone thought himself invincible back in his day. And in the end, he was sentenced to the wretched filth of Alcatraz, for which of his atrocities? Anyone?” He asked, no one answered. Your brows furrowed, unaware at where Elijah is going with this as he continued, “A failure to pay his taxes. I suppose the devil’s in the details, isn’t it?” Nobody peeped a word.
The original glanced inside from corner to corner, leaning against the doorframe. “My my, you have a beautiful home here. I was so pleased the city took my suggestion to protect its heritage status and invoke eminent domain.” Elijah remarked arrogantly.
Your vamp hearing granted you the ability to hear Francesca’s heart start to beat rapidly. Elijah didn’t hold back, “so I suppose that means this house now belongs to the public, and as such, anyone can enter without invitation.” He paused before leisurely stepping through the threshold.
You chuckled darkly. “Thank goodness.”
Elijah didn’t miss a beat. Defeating these wretched werewolves was a peace of cake to him. He didn’t need your help whatsoever but you couldn’t help but pitch in by kicking or tripping whomever Elijah didn’t have his eyes on just yet.
You rolled your eyes when Elijah let Francesca go due to a personal issue Hayley has with her. He said she will handle her from there.
The car ride back to the compound was quiet for the first few minutes up until now. “I swear, there’s never a dull moment with your family.” You broke the ice, chuckling.
“Indeed, sister.” The corner of your lip quirked up, feeling comforted that also Elijah still considers you family.
“I’d thank you for rescuing me but your family is the reason why I was kidnapped in the first place.” You said in a lighthearted tone, shrugging.
Elijah let out a faint chuckle. “Certainly.”
“So how was Nik after I showed up?” You asked, afraid to hear a negative response.
“I must say, he was rather taken aback. However, he does anticipate your return.” Elijah admitted, glimpsing at you before returning his attention to the road.
You gave a half smile in response, relieved that Klaus is looking forward to seeing you.
Several minutes go by before you reach the compound. You open the car door, embracing the various sounds in the French quarter.
Entering the Mikaelson’s courtyard, it is rather quiet, though there is blood splattered everywhere and dead bodies lying about. Obviously Francesca’s wolves. Good riddance.
“Up the stairs, sister. And you will find him in there.” Elijah takes a seat, gracefully stretching his arm towards a specified area upstairs. You follow.
It took several corners to turn before you found Klaus sitting in a room with his back turned to you. He’s painting with...blood? He puts a halt to his task, standing and facing you at a distance. Instead of opening his mouth to speak, he awaits your greeting, afraid you’ll run off again. “Hi Nik.” You greeted him calmly and his tense shoulders relaxed.
He shot you an elevator look, scanning for any obvious injuries, although you’re a vampire and you can heal quickly. “Are you alright?” He asked, brows furrowed.
“I’m fine now.” You said.
He glanced away nervously. “I’m sorry I caused you to run so posthaste. I was not aware of your arrival.”
“It’s fine. I let my emotions get the best of me.” You walked over to the sofa and sat on it. “Anyways, I’m so sorry about the loss of your daughter...What’s her name?”
Klaus sat beside you, eyes fixated on you. “Hope.” He responded.
Although he’s saddened about his daughter no longer being in his arms, he can’t help but feel uncomfortable knowing she was made because of his broken heart. A meaningless one night stand.
“That’s a beautiful name. How-” You begin to speak and mid sentence, Klaus caresses your cheek. You hold a lengthy pause at his lips before briskly shifting away. His touch is still intoxicating.
“Apologies.” His eyes faltered for a brief moment, disappointed that you didn’t swoon, but he understands due to the circumstances. Your reaction was almost predictable. “You must hear this from me.” He stated suddenly.
“What is it?” Your heart skipped a beat, anxious to hear his response.
“I trust that you will speak of my secret to no one.”
“You have my word, Nik.”
You have my word. Klaus couldn’t help but smile internally because you picked that up from him.
“The world believes my daughter is lost. However, it is not true.”
“What?” Your eyes widened.
“Yes. Hope still lives.” He smiled painfully.
“What? How?” It’s unbelievable that his daughter is alive and that he trusts you enough to keep this major secret.
Klaus rose to his feet, pacing. He continues to explain everything that has happened this past year in detail. You couldn’t believe that those damned witches tried to sacrifice an innocent baby.
You were at a loss for words when he informed you that him and Rebekah had a falling out, rolling your eyes at the hybrid. But it warmed your heart that later Klaus trusted Rebekah enough to take care of Hope. It all made sense to you why she suddenly ghosted you.
“Can I ask you something?” You asked once Klaus was done with his storytelling.
“Of course, love.”
“So were you and Hayley ever together?” A muscle in your jaw twitched. You hated yourself for asking, but you needed to know one way or another.
He stopped in his tracks, lips parting as he’s caught off guard from your question. “Never. And she’s involved with Elijah now.”
First Klaus and now Elijah? If Kol were alive, would she let him in her pants too? You thought to yourself, disgusted. “I see.” You said as you stood, frowning at the memory of breaking up with Klaus.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, perturbed by your expression.
“Nothing, Nik.” You tried to distract yourself by running your fingers along the binding of the books on the shelf.
Klaus rested a hand over your shoulder, standing directly in front of you, tone softened. “Tell me. Please.” Even after all this time, he still knows you too well that you’re hiding something.
Thank goodness your eyes didn’t direct to his lips this time. Instead, you held your gaze at his irises and your eyes welled up. “You...you never called.” You replied, remembering when Rebekah told you the other day that your ex still loves you. You were tempted to mention it, but somehow decided not to.
Klaus blinked, brows furrowed in confusion. “You left me, Y/N.”
“I know I did, but I came back for you and you were already gone. The mansion was empty.” The image of you falling to your knees in an empty home pains you.
“You did what?” Klaus’s eyes widened as he stared at you in horror. This is the first time he’s hearing this and now he feels awful. All this time he assumed you wanted nothing to do with him.
And even you thought he knew about it all along, but there goes your answer.
“It doesn’t even matter anymore.” You averted your gaze before attempting to walk off. Klaus grasped your forearm. “Don’t you dare leave.” He threatened, not caring to be soft with you this time.
“Klaus, what’s going on? Who’s she?” A skinny brunette with large hazel eyes appeared. Merely a second later, Elijah materialized beside her.
Oh.
Your eyes narrowed at who you are now aware of is Hayley Marshall. “I’m Y/N. I’m sure you’ve heard of me.” You folded your arms across your chest, raising a brow as if your emotional moment with Klaus didn’t just happen. Hayley’s jaw nearly dropped. Klaus stood beside you with his palm placed on your lower back for reassurance. “What is so important that the lot of you are interrupting us?” Klaus asked, evidently vexed.
“It seems dear Y/N has a visitor.” Elijah made known.  
“Who?” You asked. A part of you wished it’s Damon. You do miss that asshole.
Instead of answering your question, Elijah started leading you to the courtyard. Klaus and Hayley stayed put, so you used your vampire hearing to briefly eavesdrop.
“In case you’re wondering why it took so long for the last ring, Elijah had me take care of Francesca myself.” Hayley said.
“Good to know, Hayley. Now tell me, how are you handling being immortal now?” Klaus asked her. You stopped eavesdropping at that point.
Reaching the courtyard, you are shocked to see a stressed out heretic. “Kai?”  
“Jesus Christ, Y/N!” He shouted with relief. “I’ve been trying to call you but your phone’s dead.”
“What are you doing here? How did you even find me?”
“Look, I was worried okay? So I did a locator spell. I had to check on you.”
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“Kai, I’m fine. You don’t need to check up on me. Just please go.” You whisper shouted the last three words.
“She’s much safer in our care. Might I suggest you run along now.” Elijah grinned beside you, one hand placed inside his front pant pocket.
Kai chuckled darkly, irked that Elijah’s trying to send him away like a peasant. “And who even are you?” Kai glared at the original.
“If you wish to not see me as your worst enemy, you and your incessant attitude should leave.” Elijah suggested.
“Kai, please leave.” Your eyes flickered at the second floor anxiously, hoping Klaus and Hayley’s conversation drags on.
“Are you her ex, Klaus?” The heretic snickered obnoxiously. “You don’t look threatening to me.”
Elijah snapped.
With vamp speed, Elijah holds Kai by the throat and hits his back against the nearest wall. Kai’s expression doesn’t falter as he immediately grabs ahold of Elijah’s forearm, siphoning him. Elijah tried to fight it, but the pain is so overwhelming that a wince escapes his mouth as if his arm was on fire.
You vamp sped to the duo, splitting them up, using yourself as a barrier between them. “Enough! Both of you!” You shouted.
Elijah shot him a glare as he straightened his suit jacket, taking a few steps away for some needed distance. You did the same once you were positive that they both won’t spring on each other.
“What is going on? Who the bloody hell is he?” Klaus asked with distaste, suddenly appearing beside you. His palm caressed your back again. Kai noticed the gesture and grimaced.
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“Kai was just leaving.” You said.
“Okay. Okay. I definitely see it now. So you’re Y/N’s ex.” Kai rolled his eyes. Klaus didn’t appreciate the gesture.
“What is your reason for trespassing in my place of residence?” His irritation pricked at him.
“Just checking on Y/N. Heard so much about you. Oh! I met your sister by the way. She’s hot.” Kai mentioned it intentionally, to get a rise out of Klaus. “And I met your butler too.” He winked at Elijah.
“You dare…” Elijah stepped forward with warning, but you gestured your palm towards him and he stopped.
“Oh! Also, Y/N has terrible taste.” Kai’s face contorted. “It’s no wonder she’s not attracted to me.”
“Enough!” Klaus swiftly and brutally broke Kai’s neck in a blink of an eye. Neither of you saw it coming.
“Thank you, Niklaus.” Elijah said with contentment.
“Brother, please dispose of the corpse.”
You shook your head. “He’s not dead.” Both Mikaelsons eyed you, perplexed. “He’s a siphoner and also vampire. Also known as a-”
“-heretic.” Elijah finished your sentence, suddenly annoyed from this information.
“Very well.” Klaus started. “Off with his head then.”
“No!” You halted Klaus. He glanced at your hand pressed over his chest.
“You care for this bloke?” Klaus said through clenched teeth, his anger rising at the mere thought of you being attracted to someone as annoying as Kai. Elijah found it as the appropriate time to exit the vicinity.
“Yes I do. But he’s just a friend. Let me handle him.” You didn’t realize how much you actually care about this punk until death was at his doorstep.
“Assure that he never steps foot in here again or else I will not hesitate to tear that bloody nuisance limb from limb.” Klaus’s chest expeditiously rose and fell. You blinked at his crazy temper.
“Nik, calm down.” You placed both your hands over his cheekbones in an attempt to soothe him, brushing your thumbs. Your eyes rested on his, soft and inviting. With continued, comfortable silence, his breathing started to slow down and he’s much calmer than he was a minute ago.
He obtained your small hand, brushing your knuckles against his plump lips as he plants a kiss over them. Your heart fluttered.
Without any say, Klaus exits the courtyard and made his way upstairs.
-
TAGS: @ynm1505 @ravenmoore14 @xdontxcare @seasiren96@anyasthoughts @woodworthti666 @agentmarvel13 @miss-lumiere@elizabethann1090 @physically-a-cheesecake @azhar1422 @morsmornte@retrocontessa
769 notes · View notes
hopewritcs · 5 years
Text
the prodigal sister. six.
pairing: familial byers fam x reader, romantic paring tbd
word count: 2.3k
summary: y/n is the middle sibling of the byers brothers. she’s just ten months younger than jonathan, making the pair “irish twins”. except when her father and mother got divorced, lonnie got custody of y/n and took her away from the rest of the family.
notes: time for part six. this chapter is a bit shorter, kind of a “filler chapter” ( even if i absolutely hate using that term because it’s still relevant to the story but it’s not the main core plot ) the next chapter will include going to school on monday and having some quality time with someone.  
other chapters: masterlist
tps tag list: @irreleventmoonchild, @rockyrocket15, @the-fae-child, @bucky4cap45, @pinklyrium,@girlycakepops, @qtmeryr, @noodlebread303, @virtualsheepeat,@acidrain707, @trashblackrainbow, @sadhwstudent, @unprofessional-inhumanbeing, @laneygthememequeen, @wanna-be-idle, @smh-writings,  @httpakasha ( if you wanna be added to the tag list just let me know ! )
It was the first morning in February when a couple of big delivery boxes arrived on the Byers’s front step.  Courtesy of an overnight shipping label and the tape was already looking as though it was peeling off.  Apparently Lonnie finally got around to shipping out his daughter’s things, if you could even call it that.  It looked like he just tossed the boxes out and waited for something to happen to them.  There were six boxes total, filled with about what Y/N would classify as “everything in her room except the bedding”.  
With the boxes looking worse for ware, and Y/N having caught up on her school work quickly, Joyce decided to let Y/N stay home from school and unpack things into her old bedroom.  The mattress they’d gotten, second hand from an old family friend, had also arrived the night before so it was finally time for Y/N to get off the couch and into her own space.  
Her brothers complained that she got to stay home from school.  “It’s not fair, it’s the weekend.”  They’d groaned and shook their heads at the breakfast table, but Joyce shut them up with one of her stares.  Of course, Y/N wasn’t going to argue with the thought of staying home, but she managed to keep quiet and simply waved her brothers off when Joyce handed Jonathan the car keys.  
The problem was, Lonnie wasn’t exactly thorough or careful with the pack job he’d shipped.  Things were thrown about in the boxes with little thought or care.  One of the pictures he’d tossed in there, a framed family photo pre-divorce, had broken against the packaging and Y/N pulled her hand away scratched with the shards of glass.  
It took Joyce and Y/N all their effort to get the dresser and mattress and everything situated in her room first.  They then went about making the bed and putting clothes away ( or tossing them in a needs to be washed pile ).  For Y/N and Joyce it was good to focus on doing all of this, with a little music playing from the stereo in the living room, and talking about everything.  Both of them were feeling like they had missed out on so much from being away from each other for all these years, and Y/N had just really missed her mom.  
It didn’t go unnoticed by Joyce that Y/N avoided discussing time at Lonnie’s house, except for a couple of random comments about her father’s utter lack of cleanliness and his inability to prepare a meal for himself.  Oh, and that his “girlfriend Stacey is a total witch, acts like she owns the place.”  But that was that, and Joyce didn’t push much.  She knew how Lonnie could be, and could only imagine how he was when it was just the two of them in the home.  He was arrogant and selfish and stupid.  
And it was then, more than ever before, with her daughter in the room putting up some poster on the wall that Joyce’s heart ached for all those missed years.  
“Are you still in touch with your old roommate, Natasha?”  Joyce asked, folding a pair of jeans over as she looked up at her daughter.  Joyce had taken over folding and putting clothes away while Y/N was getting her room set up just so.  
“I sent her a letter explaining that I wouldn’t be coming back to school and I hope her roommate this year Francesca is neater than I was.  But we were never really the best of friends.”  Y/N shrugged, playing with the binding of one of her books as she found it a spot on the shelf.  
“And she’s how you met Billy, Max’s step-brother?”  
“Yeah, they used to go out.  But neither of them were really reliable.  Sometimes Billy stood her up.  Sometimes she stood him up, even if it was just for retaliation for him missing a date.”  Y/N turned her head to look at her mom.  She sighed as she rubbed her dust covered hands over her borrowed pair of pants.  “Do you think he’s as bad as everyone’s told me?”  
Joyce stopped mid fold and looked over at her daughter.  She shrugged, shaking her head as she continued her previously forgotten action.  “I can’t say I’ve actually met him, so I wouldn’t know.”  
Y/N nodded her head, a bit deflated in that.  It was hard to put the Billy she’d known in California to the asshole step brother of Max she’d heard about.  Because, sure, the Billy she’d known in California was a dick.  He slept around and did what he wanted, but he wasn’t too terrible.  Billy had been reckless ( like a lot of people were ) and he thought the world was his and his alone and made no point in hiding that.  But that wasn’t all there was to him either.  She had seen him in softer states too, in a less “big man in charge” state of being.  
Joyce must have taken note on the fact that Y/N was lost in her thoughts as she had made her way to her daughter’s side undetected and put a hand on Y/N’s shoulder with a soft smile as her daughter jumped to look at her.  “I think they’re just worried about you.  And I know you can take care of yourself, but with everything that’s happened,” Joyce paused, her head dropping down as flashes of what they’d been through popped into her mind.  It was her daughter taking her hand that brought her back from the thoughts and she spoke again, “but you can’t blame them for being worried.”  
Y/N nodded slowly and sighed, “I just hope that the next time I say anything about him they won’t jump down my throat again.  I get it at this point.”  
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”  Joyce said softly, pulling her daughter into a hug.  She wished she had a solution to what was going on, but she didn’t.  There wasn’t really any advice she could offer except just wait it out and hold out hope that her brothers ( and the others ) stopped talking about it with her after some time.  “Just give it time, I’m sure something else will come up.”  
A couple of hours later the school day was out and Y/N and Joyce were in the living room watching some after school special and laughing together over some popcorn as the Byers boys walked in the door.  
“We had to go to school while you two just sat and did this all day?”  the way Jonathan said it was much more teasing than angry or annoyed as he took a handful of popcorn and sat down on the couch next to his sister and leaned forward to talk to Joyce.  “Can I borrow the car tonight to take Nancy to the movies and dinner?”  
“So long as you take Will to the Wheeler’s house on your way.  The kids are having a game night.”  Joyce said, turning her head to her kids and smiling.  Simple moments like this, all four of them cramped onto the couch, were what she was most excited about now.
“Hey, did you bring my homework from class?”  
Jonathan shrugged, “Teacher’s said someone else got it before I did.”  
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Jonathan had taken Will to the Wheeler’s and gone to pick up Nancy not too long before another car pulled into the drive.  Joyce had been preparing dinner for her and Y/N, so Y/N answered the door.  
“Hey Robin!”  Y/N smiled, opening the door for the other to enter.  
“Hey Y/N.  You weren’t in class, so I grabbed some notes for you and the homework.  Plus, we’ve got to run lines for Monday’s class so I figured it would be easier if I had all the rest of your stuff too.”  Robin said, holding out a folder full of papers toward Y/N.  
“Oh, cool.  Thanks.  My mom’s making dinner, did you want to stay and we can run lines after we eat?”  she put down the notes on the coffee table and turned around to call for Joyce, who popped her head away from the stove.  “Mom, is it okay if my friend stays for dinner?  We’ve got to run lines for our drama class.”  
“Of course it’s alright!”  Joyce exclaimed, wiping her hands off on her pants before coming into the living room and holding out her hand, “It’s nice to meet one of Y/N’s friends from school.”  
Robin had her coat half shrugged off, so she quickly finished shrugging the fabric off her shoulders and into her arms before shaking the older woman’s hand.  “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Byers.”  
It was surprising how comfortable it felt to have a friend in the house.  Y/N had rarely had friends over growing up, until she was away at boarding school where it was easy to get together with other girls in the dormitories for sleepovers, or going out for dinner.  And she’d worried about having friends over, even if she felt comfortable with Will and his friends ( who were over quite a lot ), she wondered what it would be like to have her own friends over.  
The three women made their way to the kitchen and Y/N finished setting the table as Joyce continued to stir at the pasta on the stovetop.  Robin was filling Y/N in on what she’d missed at school that day, talking mostly about the class they shared together and how the drama teacher had almost lost the assignment sheets and had to leave the classroom twice before she remembered where she put it.  
The whole conversation throughout the dinner was easy and it made Y/N feel even more at home than she had been feeling.  Joyce seemed happy too, excited that her daughter had made a friend in school with only being there for a short period of time.  It was nice that she got along with someone and it wasn’t just the people who she already knew.  
Robin had been nervous about going over to the Byers house to give Y/N her homework, having made a last minute choice to go to the attendance office to get Y/N’s schedule and go looking for her classes impulsively at the end of the day.  But she’d still done it, and she was glad she did since the dinner was nice and she didn’t feel nervous after the first couple of questions.  
The girls excused themselves from the table when Joyce insisted they go work on the homework, and Y/N grabbed the folder from the coffee table before heading back to lead Robin to her bedroom.  Flipping on the light, she hopped onto her bed.  “I know, it’s still a bit messy but my father only just sent me everything.  You’re like the first person to see my room.  I wanted to ask to paint it a different color but I figured we’d already done so much.”  Y/N rambled a bit as she shuffled through the papers and found the drama assignment.  Looking up she spotted Robin still standing in the doorway.  “Come and take a seat, Robin.”  she laughed.  “You need to tell me what we’re doing anyway.”  
Robin nodded and sat down on Y/N’s bed, peering over her shoulder and looking at the assignment sheet.  She pointed to one of the scenes noted on the paper, tapping as she spoke, “We’ve got this one, A Doll’s House.”  she hummed and took the paper out of Y/N’s hands effectively taking control and Y/N watched as she flipped through the packet to get to the correct scene explanation before turning around and grabbing her copy of the play from her backpack.  
Y/N looked over the packet and nodded.  She was familiar with the play, enough to know what it was about but she had yet to read it through.  It had been one of the plays her school had put on, and she’d helped with some behind the scenes work.  “I gotta be honest, I’m not really a center stage kind of person.”  Y/N said with a laugh, shaking her head.  
“Me either, but ‘least it’s not in front of everybody in the school.”  Robin said, holding out her copy for both of them to read from.  
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By the time they had the entire scene nearly memorized it was later than they expected and Joyce had to poke her head in to tell the girls it was time for Robin to go home.  Though she did say that the girls should get together another time for an actual sleepover, Joyce insisted she didn’t feel right with the last minute arrangement since she didn’t know Robin’s parents well enough.  
The girls said goodnight, Robin left and Y/N went back to her room to work on the rest of her homework before she went to bed for the night.  She had to admit it was a bit weird sleeping in a bed rather than on the couch as she had been.  It was far more comfortable, but it was weird.  She was back in her childhood home, in her childhood room, though it looked different than she’d expected it to look.  It felt different, both in a good way and a bad way.  
Good to be home, and she felt comfortable.  But she was still dealing with all the news she’d been told that first day she’d come home.  If she were having nightmares and wandering thoughts about it all and she’d simply heard the tales, she couldn’t help but wonder what her brothers, their friends, her mother, all thought since they’d all lived through it.  
She worried that something might happen that she wouldn’t be prepared for.  But, how exactly could you prepare for something supernatural like they’d explained?  
You can’t.  
195 notes · View notes
eldonash · 4 years
Text
It’s Gunna Be May
Summary: It was May. Which meant that at the hidden ‘clubhouse’, a party was happening. In basement two, where all the best wines and blood was stored. A special person was being let out. What started as a joke, dare, and evolved into an actual acquisition, along with a lot of other strange oddities the vampires of White Crest were slowly collecting; 
Justin Timberlake was now a permanent guest in Bloodhaven. 
Featuring: Orobas, Carrington, Harsh, Francesca, (and a past Dewey) @carringtonblackwood​; @notsoharsh​; @caraitaliadolcemeta​
Orobas was drinking from a glass, watching the vampire who had the keys open the cell door and he almost clapped in glee. It did seem like a strange thing to be excited about, but it was a joke that had ironically brought many of them together. Orobas would always find humor involving his kin and their ideas. He had dressed impeccably, with a tailored suit and already had a nice tux for Justin to wear. He turned to the person near him. “Do you think-- the blue tie, or this one?” 
Carrington was… curious about what - or who, in this case - was in the room that was currently being unlocked with no small amount of joy on the part of the vampire next to him. He wasn’t a fan of imprisoning people against their will - he had his reasons - but apparently… apparently the person being let out didn’t mind? “Blue,” Carrington said after a small glance at the item in question. “Brings out the eyes.” He took a long pull from his glass - which was admittedly his… fourth… or was it fifth? - before leaning towards the person stood next to him. “Do you think he’s compulsed?” he asked of the man they were letting out. “Or just… trying something new?” If ‘new’ could be defined as being locked in the cellar of what was essentially turning out to be a vampire clubhouse of sorts, and only let out for a very specific - and time sensitive - reason. “After that god awful Trolls movie, I can’t really blame him…” 
“He’s here willingly, Carrington-- I think the fame got to him or something, maybe a nice break?” Orobas responded and put the blue tie with the tux. [texts Harsh] Come over to Bloodhaven, its started.
Harsh hadn’t had the best day. Fighting a weird mime clone thing was draining. But hell, he needed something to take his mind off it. So the text was a welcome distraction. He glanced over it, hesitating for a moment before responding. [text to Orobas] you guys partying without me? I’ll be over in a few minutes. [text to Harsh] dress nice :)
[text to Orobas] hey baby, you know I always dress to kill ;) Harsh tucked his phone away and threw on a decent dinner jacket. Maybe not the most formal, but it would have to do. His side still ached and he wasn’t up for digging through his closet for hours. Deeming himself good enough, he headed out the door.
Carrington hummed around the rim of his glass. “I’ve heard it does that. Some of the best and brightest have apparently-” He made a random, flitting gesture. “- vanished into the ether at the height of fame.” Another sip of wine. “Or at the bottom.” 
“Really? I never keep up with human affairs, interesting,” Orobas responded.
Dewey had absolute zero idea what would await him when it came to this little ‘party’. It had been over twenty years since he willingly attended an event hosted by vampires, specifically for vampires. Even going to Teeth had been considerably easier, because he had gone with the intent to nourish himself and enjoy another’s company. Parties were another beast entirely. He wasn’t drinking, opting to remain sober for the time being and instead, anxiously observed the others as they talked and drank. 
“You should try it now and then. They might surprise you,” Carrington said of humans. Though he didn’t feel so far removed from them as Orobas might, having tried to live a life as close to human as possible. After another moment of observing the… interesting situation… Carrington moved back to stand next to Dewey, who was looking a bit anxious. He set his glass aside in favor of touching the other’s back ever so lightly. “Alright?” he asked so only they could hear. “Say the word and we’ll go. No questions asked.”
Orobas glanced over at the other, noticing their stance, and remembering their conversation from before. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he offered, to be nice… or attempt to be. “I’m Orobas, let’s leave Justin to his shower and dressing. The wine room?”
The trip to Bloodhaven was thankfully mime-free. Harsh lightly knocked at the door, adjusting his jacket a little. Maybe he should have tried harder to dress up for this thing. He wasn’t totally sure what to expect when he walked in, but hell, after everything, he could use a party.
The hand served to ground him, the urge to crawl out of his skin abated a moment as he regarded the blonde with a tentative smile, then shook his head. “I’m fine, really. Just… taking everything in, is all,” And trying not to feel so out of place, which seemed to be increasingly difficult. He turned to the other when he spoke, offering a small nod and attempting to relax himself a bit more. “Dewey, a pleasure. And, after you,” 
A shout was heard throughout the building. “Cookies are ready!!!” As Marge, dressed to the nines in a stunning gown and matching hat came out with blood morsels wrapped in dough. Also opening the door for Harsh.
 “It’s… a lot,” Carrington agreed quietly, not taking his hand from Dewey’s back. His thumb stroked a small arch over the other man’s spine. He didn’t wish to hover, as Dewey was a grown man, and Carrington trusted him to speak up if he wished to depart, but he also didn’t wish him to feel uncomfortable. He waited as the two vampires introduced themselves, and watched with no small amount of curiosity as… Justin?... gave them all a cheerful wave and went about his business. Carrington blinked. “Wine would be… yes.” He gave Dewey a nod and followed suit towards the wine room. 
The little old lady who answered the door definitely wasn’t who Harsh expected, nor was the plate of cookies she forced into his hands, but he gave her a polite hello before following her into what must have been the wine room. “Looks like you started the party without me.” He grinned, approaching Orobas first and pulling him into a quick embrace before he turned to the other two. “Huh, small fucking world, I didn’t know you two would be here. So this is where all the cool vampires hang out? I like it.”
Orobas was glad to see Harsh, and though not many actually witnessed the softer expression on his usually stoic face, he smiled and hugged him back. “You would know everyone already,” Orobas was greatly amused. “Here--” he popped a bottle and filled it with wine for Carrington, and poured two more. “Did you eat? We can eat-- oh,” a look of corrupted excitement took over his face. “Did you all see Walter?”
“I see Marge has settled right in,” Carrington said, glancing towards the ceiling. She was a strange old bird, but seemed right at home among the small group of supernaturals. Odd, that. But Carrington had grown fond of her, and hadn’t had the heart to turn her down when she’d somehow managed to find out about his invitation from Orobas, and inquire about the ‘party.’ He raised a hand in greeting as he recognized Harsh, and thanked Orobas for the refill. He was curious how the younger man knew Dewey, but assumed it was from the hospital. “Who’s Walter?” he asked Orobas, giving the others time to greet one another. 
“The watermelon vampire in the garden-- so, a werewolf gave it to me after apparently it attacked some people in a farmers market and he got attacked trying to help. Some beasty--,  called it Walter,” Orobas explained. “It’s quite the story. Oh, and I paid $100 for it so now it’s officially mine, which means, it’s now yours too.”
Catching sight of another familiar face, Dewey’s anxiety lessened another fraction, gingerly taking the glass of wine that was offered to him. Still, he lingered a bit close to Carrington, and prayed, prayed that the blonde wouldn’t mind. He hated to feel as though he was dependent, and yet that was exactly how he must have come across. “Vampire… watermelon,” Named Walter. The doctor blinked, amused shock written plainly across his features. He took a large swallow from his glass. “Of all the… creatures I prepared myself to meet tonight, that was certainly not one of them,” 
“Nora the artist?” Carrington asked, letting his free hand slip beneath Dewey’s jacket to rest lightly against his shirt. He didn’t mind the other man staying close at all. In fact, he liked it very much. He gave Harsh a nod of greeting, glad there was someone else here that Dewey knew. “I like her. We’ve spoken online a few times,” he continued about Walter’s namegiver. He’d heard of such creatures as vampiric watermelons, but never seen one in person. “Can’t be anymore handsy than Marge, can it?” Carrington said, sharing Dewey’s amusement. “Shall we take a look?”
“They are very fascinating, how they are made is strange. Either way, they will keep people out of the front door,” Orobas responded to Dewey. “But you were prepared to meet other creatures?” he asked, a hint of a tease on his tone. “What exactly? Should I get more? Maybe we should. I heard there are a bunch of vampiric creatures in the world. They should all be around.” Orobas nodded at Carrington. “Yes, I think so. She was angry with me because I didn’t know what ham was. I still-- don’t exactly know what ham is if I’m honest. We can go to the hot tub and see Walter on the way to the deck if you like.” 
Carrington had no idea how one made a vampire watermelon, but the image that came to mind was from a rather horrifying musical he’d seen sometime in the 80s. Or was it the 90s? It all ran together sometimes. Either way, it interested him enough to want to see it. He laughed quietly at the thought of Marge fussing at a 400 year old vampire who didn’t know his deli meats. “It’s pork,” Carrington mentioned idly. He wasn’t sure if he would partake of the hottub this evening, but who knew where things would lead. 
Ankle boots heels hallowly clicked against the pine-toned wooden floor. As a good guest, Francesca never arrived empty-handed, each and every time bringing a fine bottle of red wine to add to their collection in the wine cellar. “Bloody hell, I’ve been waiting upstairs for ten minutes for someone to come say hi - like good manners demand. Now I drank half of the bottle I brought and you got no one to blame but yourselves, you pipistrelli.” With the open bottle in one hand and her iPhone in the other, she stared at them, noticing the little human celebrity on the back. ��... ma che cazzo fai?” The red lips that left out the stern question were left slightly ajar, shocked to truly see fucking Justin Timberlake. “Now you’ll tell me Britney’s here and we’re forcing them to get back together?! Hey -” She walked faster, in the blink of an eye showing up closer to the group. “Have you tasted him yet? Can I?” Now Fran was excited.
“Francesca,” Orobas grinned, waited until she was near and kissed her cheek in greeting. “You are late as usual, lovely as always.” A feral grin met hers, in tease. “Britney? No, only him-- he’s on a permanent stay with us. Here-- we have a preserved bottle somewhere of his...” Orobas pulled one of the wine bottles from a clean, wooden shelf, looking like it was a deep red wine in design, but it wasn’t. “Give me your glass-- you can not bite him, he has to sing--” he popped the cork, and poured her something with more substance into her glass. “Anyone else curious?” He would pour some out if anyone was. 
Dewey couldn’t say that he recognized the vampire who had begun to descend down the stairs. But she certainly seemed… lively, was one word. Probably the best descriptor to stick to for now, lest he say something he’d come to regret. Orobas seemed to know her, but then again, he seemed to know pretty much everyone. Dewey offered her a small smile and nod in greeting, inching a bit closer to Carrington as he noted the hand steadying him. And then, when it seemed that things couldn’t get any more surprising, Orobas was offering them a taste of… Oh. Dewey swallowed thickly, turning to the side in order to give Carrington a small, hesitant glance. Did he want a taste? Where did the bounds of his curiosity end? Or, rather, where should they? He wasn’t entirely sure. But simply gazing at the bottle caused his throat to tighten. He would wait and see what Carrington would do - if he drank, then so would he. 
“What can I say - I’m not British.” Fran offered Orobas a genuine smile and kissed him in the corner of the lips in return. Then looked at Dewey, smiling at him to greet him too. “I can’t believe we’ve been properly introduced, but I’m Francesca.” Someone had to act like a British, after all. “Carrington, you’re stifling the boy,” she teased, noticing how the one she didn’t know quite well seemed to nearly cling onto him. “Oh bravissimo, I couldn’t deal with one more popstar. One’s enough.” Green gems watched as Orobas walked to one of the shelves, fetching a bottle then her glass. “What?! Why would you leave him in plain sight when I can’t go back home and say I ate Justin Timberlake?! Oh pleeeease, I promise he’ll be able to sing afterwards.” Her glass was off her hand, however, already filled up. Fucking A, there were no humans around, why did she have to use the glass. Francesca took another look at Justin, far away but not that out of reach. She then decided to go talk to him and showed up right beside him, linking her arm with his. “So, Justin, tell me - are you enjoying your stay at Bloodhaven? By the way, would you like some wine?” She offered her own glass. How sadistic could Fran get was yet to be answered.
“Un piacere come sempre, Francesca,” Carrington greeted the new arrival, his tone one of wry amusement. Though he made no move to be any further away from Dewey. If anything, he pulled him ever so subtly closer, hooking a finger through his beltloop. He gave Dewey a glance that was still more amused than anything, as if to say this is what happens when vampires congregate in groups of more than two or three. This was actually quite tame compared to other gatherings Carrington had been to in the past. Not in White Crest, of course. And not in the last few decades.  As for the blood being offered up to sample, Carrington wasn’t quite sure he wanted to taste Justin2020. But in the spirit of good manners, he finished off his wine and held out his empty glass to Orobas. “Just a measure then. Not too much.” 
Orobas narrowed his eyes towards Francesca’s causal tone and whine, but it shifted into a  demented, dark expression that changed his features subtly as the blood poured, and she wandered off to have fun with Justin. “Mhmm,” he chuckled. “Here Carrington.” Pouring him what he asked and also filling Harsh’s glass so he would heal. Orobas knew he wasn’t feeling one hundred percent; he just didn’t know why. “Justin is well, special,” he was speaking to Dewey, eyes red with a faint grayness around his features. With Orobas’ age he always seemed a little more monstrous. He inhaled his own glass, with a forced breath. “I have heard you don’t partake, I understand, but Justin is-- mhm, very different. Almost one of a kind, however, I can get you a bottle of something else if you are hungry.” Though offered his glass if Dewey did in fact want a sip.
From not that far away, Francesca kept a very casual conversation with the popstar, even found a comfortable spot for them to sit together. However, her ears were focused on the conversation happening a few feet away. This Dewey didn’t drink human blood? Oh wow. What a terrible life he must live. Shifting her attention back to Justin, she was delighted to see he, indeed, had accepted her glass, even if timidly at first. Her grin spread from ear to ear and anyone else in their right mind would doubt her excitement - not Justin, apparently. He drank, then grimaced. “Oh yeah, love, it’s a very old harvest, it’s a bit peculiar at first.” Wrinkling her nose slightly, she nodded a few times. That’d never get old. And… “OUCH!” Justin shouted, staring at the Italian, who was pushing his wrist away from her bloody mouth and shoving it on his lap. “HE’S FINE!” She declared to anyone who was interested, just in case, and instantly took the glass back from him, pulling off a silk handkerchief from her wrist and pressing against his. “Here, darling, put pressure on and that boo-boo will go away soon enough.” And turned her back, knocking back all the blood left in her glass and quietly returning to the group. “...” And acting like she didn’t do anything.
Well, wasn’t this nice, to be put on the spot… Dewey would have broken out into a thorough sweat if possible, heavily uncomfortable with the others seeming so hooked on his decision. He swallowed again, and almost winced at how dry his throat had become. A parched ache that seemed to spread and wither even in his lungs, every breath holding the faint aroma of the glass Orobas held out to him. But, he had said before, if Carrington partook. And he had, so… “Thank you,” He expressed quietly, gingerly taking the glass and bringing it tentatively to his lips. Even before the crimson hit his tongue, he knew it would certainly be unlike anything else he’d ever sampled - or guzzled, depending on the decade. He hummed in his chest, the liquid soothing the ache, quelching the fire in his belly, a balm only human blood could provide. So caught up in thoroughly enjoying the taste, he hadn’t realized until too late that he had done a bit more than that - the glass was entirely empty.
“Oh God, I… I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t mean to--”
Carrington gave a nod of thanks and held the glass to his nose briefly, taking in the rich scent for a moment before taking a slow sip. It was… it was good. Very good. Good enough that the small sip turned into two, turned into finishing the glass in one long, graceful swallow. “Indeed,” he murmured, agreeing with Orobas as the other vampire spoke to Dewey. “Oi,” he said to Fran as she… bit into Justin unexpectedly. He tutted slightly, swiping the last bit of Justin off his lower lip with his tongue. “At least ask the man first,” he said aside to Fran as she came back over.
But his attention was drawn back to Dewey as he took a small glass of blood as well. Carrington didn’t even think about it as his eyes locked on the curve of Dewey’s mouth around the glass, and the way he drained it like he’d done it a thousand times. Or the way it left a red gloss over his lips. It was… Christ. He blinked as Dewey suddenly apologized. “Don’t do that…” he said, leaning over to speak into Dewey’s ear. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you…” 
When did such a motion steal so much of his attention? Orobas blinked stupidly, and offered a grin at Dewey who seemed surprised. “It’s fine-- you are hungry. I have an entire bottle, and well--” He turned to shake the cotton from his head and got Dewey his own glass and set it into his hands; thrilled, he wasn’t going to keep starving himself. Meeting Carrington’s gaze briefly as if to share the same thought, he walked over to Justin, setting the bottle near him and checked his wrist with a surprisingly tender glance and wiped the blood from his lips. Tightening the fabric, Orobas gave Fran one of those ‘remember all those times I told you I would kill you’ glares, but it still somehow seemed affectionate between the two. Orobas sat down on Justin’s lap, crossing his legs and poured more of the bottle into his glass, his fingers toying with the back of his head. “Is anyone else coming?” he asked the room at large. “Justin, think about some songs for us.”
Dizzy. That seemed to be the most accurate descriptor for how Dewey’s head currently felt. He had been drunk on blood and wine before, many, many years ago, and had come close to it when he and Carrington had visited Teeth a few weeks prior to now. Justin’s blood was certainly a delicacy, however, something truly special. And when Orobas filled his own glass, he savored the taste this time. With Carrington’s voice practically purring in his ear, he tilted his head, red-stained mouth slowly curving into a wry smile. He made agonizingly slow work of circling a tongue over his lips, catching a drop before it rolled down the corner of his mouth. Making sure the blonde caught every bit of the action. “Is that right?” His own voice lowered an octave, bringing himself a bit closer to Carrington, lips parting for a fraction of a second - before slipping a hand in his and tugging him towards Orobas and Justin, unable to keep the teasing smile off of his features.
Carrington met Orobas’ eyes, the unspoken thoughts behind the other vampire’s dark gaze clear as crystal. Something about watching Dewey willingly partake in the drinking of human blood (willingly given, of course…) stirred something in the darkest part of Carrington’s mind. That part that was rarely touched on, or even thought about, because that would mean Carrington had to relinquish some of his self-control. Though if he were honest, letting go just a bit sounded like a fine idea. He didn’t see the glance Orobas shared with Fran, his attention almost fully on Dewey, but he did hear his question. “I’m not sure. Everyone I know is already here.” He let the comment float away, his attention caught once again by the man next to him. Carrington’s eyes drifted to his mouth, to the way his tongue caught the last drop of blood before it disappeared again. 
If Carrington had possessed a heartbeat, it would’ve been beating just a bit faster by now. He could only make a small sound of confirmation at Dewey’s question, not trusting his own voice at the moment. His own lips parted ever so slightly as Dewey leaned in, but then - Christ be damned… - he was being pulled along. Carrington couldn’t help his own grin, though half of it was admittedly from the thought that turnabout's were fair play.
“I didn’t want to scare him,” Francesca whispered back to Carrington, self-aware with all those judgy eyes on her. It was a lie, of course - Fran simply didn’t like asking for permission. What was the fun in that? Then Orobas went to check on Justin and her lips got a bit tighter as she chewed her full bottom lip and watched him with the corner of her emerald gaze. She was going to reply with a teasing-comment, but at the sight of him sitting on Justin’s lap and playing with his short hair, her fangs popped out and she raised her eyebrows slightly, as if to say that she didn’t pay any attention to his threats. Glancing back to the happy couple, the brunette watched the scene, tilting her head a little. When they finally seemed to get out of their bubble, she laughed. “Oh wow, love birds, don’t make me jealous, please.”
Francesca watched with attentive eyes every move Orobas made. Indeed, Justin’s blood was something else. It wasn’t the best she ever tasted, but it was different from most living things in White Crest so far. Yet she wasn’t willing to succumb to the Timberlake charm - or, in that case, Orobas’ sole reason for pride and glory in that particular night. She didn’t like their proximity one bit when she was there, standing alone. “I’m good, grazzie” she replied, turning around to go fetch the bottle of red wine she brought and was already open, feigning disinterest. Not that she was actually excited about Justin Timberlake, pop and celebrities had never been her thing.
Orobas smirked when she trailed away with a fake disinterest, knowing exactly what he did, and did with purpose much to his character and consistent cruelty when he felt the desire to play mean. There was something disturbing having her so casually back in his life, time once more reminding him that he should pay attention a little more and not let it get away from him so much. Orobas wondered if he should fill everyone in on the issue having her here meant. What lingered out of sight, what’s been on his mind to deal with for centuries. No, don’t spoil the fun with vampire business. “Mhmm,” he stood up, pulling Justin as well, and started coaxing him outside. “Get ready--” he said with a gentle push to his back and held the door open for them all. “Find a comfortable seat, it’s nice out tonight. Request a song for Justin--” He suggested, before walking away, back into the area where Francesca was, blocking her path out. He just looked intently at her for a moment like he was thinking hard on something, before grabbing more glasses, and offering his arm. “Come on, why are you pouting so much? You just had to wait, we could have eaten him later--” He rolled his eyes. “Forever impatient--” A barely there tease to words said a million times over. “Come sit with everyone and stop being alone.” 
The brunette glanced back for a moment, watching Orobas gently push Justin outside. In her head, she had him shoving him out and Justin falling face first in a puddle of mud that magically appears right before him. “Oi -” she called for Orobas attention, watching the guests follow the lead. “Ask the man first. Don’t be rude.” She did exactly what Carrington did to her, saying the exact same words - and a few more because, come on, it was Francesca - obviously on purpose. And carried on emptying her already quite empty wine bottle whilst looking for her next one amongst so many options. When she turned though, her new bottle in hand, there was Orobas, standing in her way. “...ma cosa, Orobas? Che fai?” Her green eyes stared at him in confusion and the ever-so-often present frown showed up in her forehead again. Squinting her eyes a little, she looked at his arm and accepted it, linking hers with his. Still a little suspicious, though. “Now he’s going to sing and who knows if that’s going to attract all those bonker girls here. Wait -” She contemplated the idea for a moment. “Do you think his fans could find out where he is? Oh, that’d be so nice,” Fran sighed in her a little too murderous dream, as if she attacked a couple of Justin Timberlake fans, she probably wouldn’t be able to stop with all the blood going about. “And I’m not impatient - you’re just too slow,” ouch, she knew that had been a bit too much bickering. “Fine…” She sighed loudly, rolling her eyes and watching the rest of them. Carrington and Dewey looked so cute. She hoped he had found his bit of happiness, even if just for a while.
Seeing everyone around, happy, and content with Justin singing happily from the deck railing. Orobas’ arm tossed over Harsh’s shoulders. Hmm. He could get use to this. 
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