#please ignore the secret stone I forgot to remove it

[sidonisms]

I imagine the rift between Ganondorf and the Sage of Lightning started after the attempted molduga attack

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

LO$ER=?, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Life is just a path and you walk it. Until Jeon Jungkook. He made you run, sprinting through winding side roads and alleys, fighting, bleeding, losing. Your paths split, but life is made of orbits. Now that they have overlapped once more, his hand is fiercely holding yours and he won't let go again. Nothing matters if he's with you. Thus, you run once more, laughing like you've gone mad.

continuation of 0X1=?, m | jjk – click here to read

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of sexual assault (not heavily described, however, please note reader is the victim of said assault); actually predominantly fluff; mentions of previous angst; mentions of physical fighting; smut (fem reader, fingering, cowgirl, scratching / marking, penetrative sex); non-idol!BTS - tattooed, previously rich!Jungkook x rebellious!reader (mostly reader's POV, a tiny bit of JK's POV), ft cameo of Kim Taehyung as JK’s best friend and crossover with 'bao, t/m | myg' au

yes, I waited until the TXT's 'LO$ER=LO♡ER' was released to write this XD there's a ton of TXT references as well, enjoy!

--

now playing – LO$ER=LO♡ER by txt

"Jeon Jungkook! Yah! Jeon Jungkook! Come out of that whore's home!"

You were about to remove the groceries from your front seat, but then you stopped at the shouting, peering up at the second story of the apartment complex to see… ah, yes, a young woman yelling at your front doorstep. One look at the imported, Western, black car with heavily tinted windows and you were well aware that the woman in a matching designer two-piece – a ruffled pink suit jacket and flared skirt – complete with immaculately pulled back hair in a half-ponytail must be...

She turned around, fuming, pretty features twisted in rage, and screamed in frustration.

You quickly jerked your head back out of her line of sight and clicked your tongue.

Your boyfriend's ex-fiancé had some lungs on her.

You waited until she finished shrieking like a banshee and peered out to see her spin on her heel and return to pounding on your apartment door with her small, manicured fists. You spotted her beige, black cap-toed slender heels.

Chanel.

Huh.

You stayed in your car.

Reached over to your bag and pulled out the single ice cream you bought to share with Jungkook but, at this rate, you would have to buy another. You pulled off the cap and folded it in half, curving it like a spoon, and began to eat the mango sorbet. Hm, well, it was better this way. Jungkook would probably prefer chocolate or straight up diabetes over mango sorbet.

He would eat pretty much anything though.

You scooped up some of the frigid, melting sweet into your mouth and watched his ex-fiancé shout at no one.

True, you could go up there and throw her down the stairs. But there was something hilarious about this, her beating and howling at your apartment door, completely ignoring the fact that no one was answering it and that she was very clearly causing a public disturbance, all because of her own personal problem.

You glanced up to watch her slide down the door, openly crying now. You pressed the button of your car window to roll it down a crack to listen to her sobbing above you.

"–can't believe you would do this to me... you know I need this marriage... my family's company depends on it..."

You slowed, licking off your makeshift spoon.

"I'll be left with nothing... nothing unless I get married..."

Crocodile tears or not, the woes of the rich did not earn much sympathy with you.

You rolled your window back up, leaving your car on idle for the air conditioning.

It was a mix of previously being constantly berated by Jungkook's wealthy parents that now exiled him over a fucking eyebrow piercing and being a member of the working, lower middle class. For some reason, that latter fact was also offensive to Jungkook’s parents. Everyone was accepting until money got involved. You hummed, eating another scoop. You didn’t like it, but you understood that his parents wouldn’t believe that you have no interest in their money. What you didn't understand was why his ex-fiancé was so hellbent on yelling at your door. From what you could tell, she wasn't ugly. Couldn't she find someone else?

You scraped the last of your small ice cream out and ate it up.

You checked your phone.

Jungkook wouldn't be out of work for at least another three hours. You had found him a job at the local bao shop through your own job as an accountant. You assisted the family in sorting the finances for their small business and personal tax forms. The owner had back surgery and so the daughter had been working there by herself with one other employee that delivered the orders. They wanted to hire another to help with cooking and cleaning, perhaps even open up the front counter again to accept pick-up orders instead of only delivery. However, it was hard to find someone trustworthy and reliable. The best way was through word of mouth.

They won't mind my tattoos?

Whenever I drop by, the delivery guy is wearing a leather jacket, ripped jeans, and has a resting bitch face. You'll be fine. Also, I think the daughter and him are dating.

Jungkook had blinked at you.

You know. In case they disappear for ten minutes, unexplained.

You loved Jungkook's laugh.

He didn't complain or whine for some other job. He only asked when he started and how to get there. You bought him a secondhand bicycle and he was off to work, five to six days a week. Sometimes you would drop him off with your car if was too rainy. Occasionally, when he had to stay late for a large order, the delivery guy would drive Jungkook and his bike back home.

That's how it was here, in the world of everyone else, minus the rich.

The fuck is all this?

Manager gave me a bunch of leftovers. She said I'm a fast learner. Did you know Taehyung stops by there? He's never said shit! He said it was his little secret, that ass–

You smiled as you remembered Jungkook's animated face and annoyance at his best friend for not sharing what he thought was crucial information. Jungkook would speak excitedly, hauling a bag of buns and spilling them over your clean kitchen counter, scrambling to catch them as he explained the different ones to you and how they were made, telling you all the things he was learning and funny stories about customers.

You almost forgot this Jungkook.

It was strange, feeling something after such a long time of feeling nothing, strange to find your time occupied once again by him, when at many times you vowed not to get involved with Jungkook anymore, only for him to show up and make you throw your promises to yourself to the wind, recklessly chasing the anger, wondering, hating, loathing how much you still loved him after he left, recalling him standing there, stone silent as his parents' verbal lashes ripped you to shreds.

You turned the car off, pulling the keys out and pocketing them, not wanting to the drain the battery.

Maybe.

Maybe you were stupid for loving him so much.

Maybe you were as pathetic as the woman up there in some ways.

Then again.

Maybe that was just how everyone lived.

You heard a soft tap by your car window.

You jerked your head to see Jeon Jungkook, in the flesh, peering at you through the glass, clutching his bike. You could see half of his head, short black hair and large, curious brown eyes, nose pressed up to the bottom of your car window. He was wearing his work clothes, light wash jeans and an aqua blue t-shirt, lightly dusted in flour. He pointed up and you noticed his ex-fiancé had switched back to yelling at the door, no longer facing the street.

You shooed him back and opened the car door, eyes wide.

"Why are you home?" you whispered, crouching down to speak to him.

He grabbed your hand, gasping as he gripped it. You shivered at the coldness of his fingers, but there was a warmth in between your and his frozen palms, melting each other.

"Oh, shit, your hand is so cold!"

"So is yours!"

"I was biking! My hands get cold from the wind. What's your excuse?"

You held up the empty mango sorbet container in your other hand, shifting your eyes guiltily.

"And you didn't share?!" Jungkook hissed, his windswept hair giving him a fierce appearance, dismay clear in his glistening dark brown orbs despite trying to sound angry.

You spied his other hand on his bike. There was a large, wrapped bandage on his left forearm. You ticked your chin towards it, furrowing your brows. "What happened?"

"Ack, I burned myself and manager-nim told me to go home early. I told her I could still work, but there were only a few hours left and it seemed like she wanted to be alone with Yoongi-hyung..."

You raised your eyebrows.

"What are they gonna do, bonk in the kitchen?"

"You wouldn't want to bonk me in the kitchen?"

You grinned at him and Jungkook grinned back, eyebrow piercing flashing in the sun.

"JEON JUNGKOOK!"

"Oh shit–"

You scrambled out of your car, locking it, slamming the door as the young woman wailed his name and pointed at you and him, furiously wiping her tears.

"You bitch! How dare you take him from me! He was mine! I had him wrapped around my finger!" She hiked up her skirt and swiftly power-walked to the stairs, looking back to yell more at you as Jungkook placed his bicycle down. "He would do anything for me!"

You raised your eyebrows, again.

Jungkook yanked on your t-shirt sleeve, ushering you to get on the bike with him.

"Doesn't seem like it!" you called back casually, chucking your trash at her, causing the empty ice cream container to smack her in the shoulder and roll across the sidewalk.

"You–"

You cackled and got on the bike, hooking your arms around Jungkook's shoulders and adjusting your feet as she stomped up to you two, conventionally attractive features contorted in rage.

"He was my dog!"

Your eye twitched.

"You were gonna marry a freak who was into bestiality? No wonder you left," you remarked, patting him on the chest as Jungkook burst out laughing, loud and rich, shaking his head.

"You can't do this to me, Jungkook! You can't leave me with that other guy!"

You felt it.

Pause.

You felt Jungkook stiffen under your hands and you turned yourself, hearing the helpless plea in her voice now, throwing herself to the ground, designer knees in common dirt, anguish on her face, tears streaming down her made-up cheeks, sniffling hard, and, with your breath lodged in your throat, you realized she was restraining her pained sobs, so trained in maintaining appearances that it seemed like she couldn’t even cry properly in front of others.

"You can't... you know how they are... I can't marry him, you saw what kind of man he is... that's the whole reason I tried to find another husband..."

There was no more anger in her voice, only fear and dread, and you didn't understand, and yet you could for some reason, for some reason you could see it as if it was tangible, the realness in her enigmatic words. Jungkook's hands tightened on the handlebars of the bicycle, his knuckles turning white, tense shoulders under your arms, and for a second, a moment, an instant...

You thought he might go back.

"You should run."

The crying woman on the ground lifted her head, hiccupping, cheeks blotchy pink, still somehow beautiful.

"W-What?"

Jungkook turned his head and looked down at her. "You should run away, like I did. Find someone who actually loves you. Getting married to me will only make both of us miserable, even if it saves you from that other guy."

She looked from you to him, and you recognized that look in her eyes, jealousy and envy, but not directed at you. It was directed at the warmth between the coldness of his hands and yours, directed at the orbits of his and yours finally overlapping, meeting in the vastness of space once more, his zero and your zero becoming one, not you, but his ability to throw everything away, his wealth, his comfort, the world he knew, all for a feeling she had yet to feel.

"What... what if I can't?" she asked weakly. "What if I can't find what you have?"

Jungkook lifted his foot off the asphalt and placed it on the pedal. He raised his head, and you found his eyes on yours for a brief moment before casting them back down to his ex-fiancé.

"Then keep running. It's better than being married to him, right?"

He began to turn the handles, about to pedal away.

She screamed after him, words choked with agony.

"Love won't solve our problems, Jungkook!"

You held on tight, chest to his back, fingers clutching in Jungkook's shirt, nose in his hair, his warmth under your cold hands.

"It won't!" he yelled over his shoulder, gaining speed with a grin. "But it sure as hell makes the problems worth shouldering!"

-

“Hey! Get back here!”

You snickered and chucked the plastic bag into the basket connected to the bicycle, jumping on quickly, pedaling away as Jungkook ran after you at top speed, breathless and laughing, his black hair flying back, aqua shirt molding to his muscular chest, long legs sprinting after you and the bike, your grinning face looking back periodically to catch his smile, going not too fast, but still fast enough so he couldn’t quite catch up. Golden hour brought out the tan on his skin and his high cheekbones, both of you tearing out of the gas station at high speed, drawing stares and shaking heads, but neither of you noticed or cared, his booming voice calling your name and you sticking your tongue out at him childishly.

“Watch out!”

You jerked aside and sped past a group of five young men with skateboards, two with shorter black hair, one with long black hair and white highlights, one with ash gray hair, and one platinum blond, all very tall, but you didn’t have time to stop and stare at the impressive height of them, turning into a side alley towards to the creek nearby, avoiding pedestrians, Jungkook following close behind until you got to your destination, grabbing the plastic bag in the basket and throwing the bike down, cackling as Jungkook snatched you from the air, his heart racing against your back as you kicked the air, him still somehow effortlessly carrying you despite sprinting so hard, panting into your hair.

“Get off!”

But instead of letting you go, Jungkook held on tighter, fierce kisses into your neck, wiping his sweat all over you and making you cringe amidst your laughter. It was already late, the sun dipping into the horizon, slowly taking its warmth with it. Water trickled meekly down the creek, barely coating the rock bottom due to the hot summer.

“Stop, stop, the ice cream is melting,” you finally gasped out, shoving Jungkook aside, wiping your neck with the back of your hand, pretending to be disgusted, but Jungkook just grinned and seized your cheeks, pressing his lips against yours.

“I love you,” he breathed.

“Ack, I love you too, fuck, get off–”

-

You two sat on the swings of the empty playground, watching the sun disappear, eating ice cream with the lids of the containers. As predicted, Jungkook got the chocolate that seemed to have everything in it but the kitchen sink. You, on the other hand, got red bean this time.

“Hey, Jungkook.”

“Hm?”

He looked up from his ice cream, shoving a large lidful into his mouth.

It was strange how beautiful he looked, even with his black hair sticking up every which way, his cheeks filled with the frozen sweet, the faint rays of sunlight catching the silver of his jewelry – eyebrow piercing, earrings, silver chain around his neck with the compass star pendant – all paired with his oversized aqua blue t-shirt and baggy jeans, still with bits of flour on his thighs from work.

“What did that man do to her?”

A darkness clouded his features even though he tried to hide it from you with a neutral expression.

“Ah… He just… Just wasn’t really the kind of guy who thought of women as people,” Jungkook finally got out, looking away from you. “You know, the kind of guy you really hate.”

“That’s you,” you joked.

“I know I can’t do anything,” Jungkook continued, ignoring your quip and you suddenly regretted it, seeing the way he lowered his hands, exhaling slowly. “I am not responsible for anyone else’s behavior but my own.”

Come crawling back to me on your knees when she reaffirms to you that I'll be the best fuck you'll ever have.

She'll never make you feel as good as I can make you feel.

Enjoy your piranha.

“I’m sorry.”

Jungkook looked up at your sudden declaration.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, coughing awkwardly. “I’m sorry for saying the things I said about her.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “Don’t be. Just because she was in a shit situation doesn’t excuse her for being a shit person.” He shoved the lid into the empty ice cream container and rubbed the back of his neck, pushing his hair back with a sigh. “Just like how it doesn’t excuse me from being a shit person for what I did to you.”

His eyes shifted away.

“You don’t have to–”

“Yeah, I do,” he muttered, cutting you off. “I’m a fucking loser.”

The streetlights began to turn on, but no one was in a place like this, two adults in a place for kids, stuck wondering what adulthood was supposed to feel like because it still felt like an endless cycle of forever learning and forever running, wandering to find out what the finish line meant.

“I wasted time you can’t get back and I will spend the rest of my life chasing the time I wasted.”

Jungkook sucked in a shuddering breath, hand falling from his hair, rueful smile on his face.

“I can only hope you can put up with me for so long.”

You blinked slowly.

He turned his head, brown eyes finding yours, those irises catching the streetlights like how his jewelry had caught the sun, proving that Jeon Jungkook was, indeed, already adorned with nature’s very own jewelry.

You scooped out the last of your red bean ice cream and ate it, looking away from him.

“Sounds like forever,” you remarked, feeling the chilled sweet cool your heated cheeks, swallowing slowly, savoring the way the cold warmed you in its own way.

“Hm?”

“Sounds like I’m stuck with you forever then,” you said, turning back to him with a smirk. “Kinda sucks.”

He smirked back, cocking an eyebrow. “Yeah. Major suck. Speaking of my dick–”

“Oh, shut up.”

But you said it with a smile and he knew you didn’t mean it.

-

“Why the fuck do you have that?”

“It’s from work. Gimmie your arm.”

“Why?”

You extended your arm, frowning, stopping under the streetlight, one hand on the bike as Jungkook held the black permanent marker with his right hand. He used two fingers to uncap it and tucked the lid neatly into his palm, spinning the marker with the adjacent two fingers to readjust it so that he could write on your arm.

“Do you wanna get a tattoo with me?”

“Of what?”

You looked down to him scribbling on your skin, his own black tattoos standing out, covering his entire right arm and up to his shoulder. You wondered if he would end up tattooing his back and maybe his other arm – but, then again, he kind of needed money to have pay for such large pieces.

“Couples tattoo.”

You looked down when he drew back, grinning, reading the word upside down.

LO♡ER

You raised an eyebrow.

“You want to get ‘lover’ tattooed?” you asked, skeptical, turning your arm this way and that, unsure if you liked the placement on your forearm, near your wrist. “You don’t have any space on your right arm anyway.”

“That’s why I would get it on my left.”

And he curved his wrist to write on the bandage on his left forearm, messily writing on top of it.

LO$ER

Now you raised both eyebrows.

“You want to get… ‘loser’ tattooed onto your body?” you snorted disbelievingly.

Jungkook grinned, recapping the black marker with one hand, tapping the dollar sign on the bandage with the marker lid. “Doesn’t it describe me? ‘Cause I had money, and now I don’t.” He pointed to the heart on your skin. “You love me. I love you. A lover with a dollar sign is a loser, right?”

Laughter and skateboards sped past, five blurs of black along the street, spinning around the parked cars, people yelling after them to stop being so reckless, but you were too busy staring at Jungkook to notice the ruckus, too busy staring at that smile and those brown orbs lit up by streetlights.

“Are you stupid?”

Jungkook’s grin widened, mole underneath clearly visible. “Yeah, kind of. Stupidly in love with you.”

You both instantly pretended to gag, trying to mask your smiles, you shoving him and him shoving back, playful and laughing like mad, falling into him, dropping the bike with a loud clang, swept up in his arms and his kiss, your hands hooking behind his neck, love you, love you, love you, not sure about this whole tattoo idea, but, hell, maybe, just maybe if he annoyed you enough about it.

-

Shit, the groceries...

Are they still good?

The green onions look kind of wilted, but so do you and you're still good... I think.

Shut up.

You didn't need him, but being without him was like being frozen in time.

Not that you had any big dreams or aspirations anyone could be envious about. It always been like that, casually cruising through life, existing for the sake of existing, no real reason needed. It just was, and there was no reason to stop, so you kept going. The path was there, so you kept walking.

But, then.

Jeon Jungkook.

Jungkook made you run.

It's not washing off.

Tragic.

Easy for you to say, you wrote yours on your bandage, 'loser'.

So terrible that you have 'lover' written in you by your lover - hey, pfft, stop! Put the showerhead down!

It was truly by chance to meet him, a moment of terror and then he was there, yelling, get off her, don't fucking touch her, and you didn't understand, didn't understand why some random guy would suddenly intervene between an interaction of two strangers, how could he sense your discomfort and fear, and now he was throwing fists, brawling with not one but three guys, friends of the one who slipped his phone and his hands under your skirt, the stranger smashing the phone with venomous rage, fighting in a dress shirt, slacks, leather loafers, and expensive-looking rings, giving you a chance to escape.

A winner at life.

Not like you, you who let something happen because you froze up in that second, disbelieving that such a thing could happen to you, a nobody, a loser.

He kicked one of them in the knee, growling, a howl followed by the sharp crack during the fight.

You could turn and escape.

Or?

You heard sirens.

You grabbed your protector's flying fist and clenched into it tightly, panicking.

Run!

This was before the tattoos.

This was before the pain.

This was before the piercing.

Jeon Jungkook had whipped his head around at the foreign touch, in this mess because he had witnessed something disgusting and because he simply wanted to fight, just wanted to beat someone up, wanted to cause real pain to someone because he couldn't control his own life, wanted to fight something.

Needed to fight.

A hand around his hand.

Run!

Never once had Jungkook thought about escape.

Not until he saw that face, fear and panic and rage and determination, stunningly beautiful, hand around his hand, not letting go, pulling, sirens screaming in the distance, his legs already moving, following, running, running, running, into the sea of the unknown.

Sinking into it.

Lungs screaming, clumsily flying through alleys, on wings of adrenaline, running after the girl in the white hoodie and red plaid skirt holding his hand, falling, falling, falling, skidding across the concrete, her arms around his, her head buried into his chest, his hands around her head to protect it, hitting a dumpster with a pained wheeze.

The sirens sped past.

He was holding her and she was holding him.

It was chance.

Just chance.

His hands were scraped up, bleeding from the trip and tumble, her white hoodie dirtied and ripped from the fall, scrapes on her legs and knees.

I'm sorry...

It was ridiculous chance.

Just ridiculous.

You clung to this stranger and laughed, laughed like a maniac, laughed like you had gone mad, crying into his dirty navy dress shirt, thank you, thank you, thank you, not knowing you were holding the one who would make you run, not knowing who or how affluent he was, now knowing of how it felt to hold his hand and kiss his lips and hear his laugh, not knowing how you would introduce him to a friend who was a tattoo artist and start his interest in them, not knowing you would sit by him for long hours and watch the art grow on his skin...

Holding him, crying, thank you, thank you, thank you for saving me, leaning against a dumpster as the stranger hugged you tightly, I got you, it's okay, don't cry, don't cry, don’t cry please, rubbing your back.

Not knowing.

Not knowing he would make you zero, not knowing you would be standing there, time and time again, verbally beaten by his own parents as he looked away, unable to fight.

And you would escape.

You would run.

He would come back.

An endless cycle until you broke it.

Then he started the endless cycle again, broken as it was, his whispers to your cheeks, I love you, cheeks that were dried of tears because you were cried out and left with a mechanical heart, I love you, heart to heartless because of wasted time, I love you, time wasted but you still loved him, no matter what you did.

Did that make you pathetic?

Did that make you stupid?

Did that make you the loser?

I love you.

Why did it matter?

Even winners die.

I love you too, Jungkook.

"Get your hands off my tits."

"Why?"

You glared at him. Jungkook grinned and spun you around, hair still a little damp, kisses on your face that made you cringe as your naked bodies tumbled on the bed, him doing it on purpose, your grumble against his kisses, should have known, his smirk against your scowl, thought you knew me well by now, capturing his lips to shut him up, sinking into his arms and the ocean that was Jeon Jungkook, the one who made you want to run through the maze of life instead of aimlessly walk down the path.

His hands on your face, staring into your eyes.

You looked back, into those eyes that once had everything, but you.

And yet, he chose to lose it all and have nothing, but you.

It didn't really make sense, being in love.

You searched for regret, but there was none to be found.

"Am I forever your waste of time?" Jungkook whispered, breath drifting over your lips.

You smirked.

"Always was and always will be."

I know you said I was a waste of time. But I was your waste of time and that was all I ever wanted to be.

"Let me at least..."

"Ah, f-fuck, Jungkook!"

Your hands faltered a little, rolling the condom down while biting your lip, gasping as his two fingers plunged into you, him moaning at the wetness, thrusting slowly and deeply.

"What, you think I can't feel good with only your dick?"

"No," Jungkook snickered, pulling his slick fingers out of your pussy and bringing them to his face, cocking an eyebrow. "Just want a taste."

You rolled your eyes as he shoved his fingers into his mouth, sucking them off, eyelids fluttering.

"You're so annoying."

He grinned around his fingers, slowly pulling them out and tracing his wet lips.

You narrowed your eyes.

You don't have to take me back. I understand now, you know... I get it. Everyone... everyone will tell you you're crazy and to not to take me back.

I'm not taking you anywhere.

I... I wouldn't blame you. I promise.

Jungkook, please, shut the fuck up.

Your hands on his chest, smacking your hips down, his head thrown back on the pillows, breathless moan at your tightness, matching his sound with your own, stretching yourself out and feeling him swell even more at the pulse of your walls wrapped around him, rolling your hips into his, wet, intense smacks, his right hand flying up and wrapping around your left wrist, watching you through his lashes with effort, losing himself in your pace, no need to ask because you could see it in his face, his open mouth and glazed over eyes, fingers slipping down, curling your nails into his skin.

“P… Please…”

Raking your nails down his chest, his back arching and eyes closing, groaning in pleasure and pain, fucking him into your mattress so hard that the bedframe squealed, setting your jaw and closing your eyes too, savoring his fullness and thickness, sinking into the ocean of pleasure that was Jeon Jungkook, the one who made you feel like no one else, the one who could make and unmake your mechanical heart, funny how that worked, your nails in his skin creating crescents of lust, your eyes snapping open as you felt his chest rise, his back arching, his hands flat on the bed and thrusting his hips up into you, one eye partly open, black hair pushed back, open-mouthed smirk on his lips.

That dark brown orb partly obscured by his lashes, but revealing all to you.

You ticked your chin at him.

“Look at me.”

His eyes fully opening, pupils dilated, hazed over with lust and stubborn love.

“Nothing is more important to me than loving you,” he panted before sinking his teeth into his lower lip, mole underneath flashing, smacking his hips up into yours hard and fast, and it took no time at all, staring at his face and the way the moonlight cradled his strong jaw and toned muscle, catching the low light and bringing out the fervor in his gaze, filling you just right, pleasure blossoming from your core and yet concentrated tightly at the same time, moan of his name falling from your lips, spilling out from your lips and in between your legs, covering him with the sweet scent and harsh squeezes of orgasm, even wetter now, his eyes rolling back, cock twitching, satisfied hiss of your name spilling out with spurts of cum filling the condom, his length shivering inside you, your thighs closing in and holding him in the air so you could feel it all.

His pleasure and him.

I won’t make it to heaven. I don’t belong there.

It’s not like I belong there either, Jungkook.

Are you sure? Only an angel would take me back.

I didn’t take you back. Only your body walked away. Your heart never left me, did it?

“You sure you don’t want to get a couples tattoo with me?”

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around how your dumb ass wants to get ‘loser’ tattooed and how you think that’s romantic.”

He pressed his right forearm against your left and grinned, watching you suck in a breath as he pushed into you again, other condom already in the trash, new one on, your right leg against his chest, sandwiched between your bodies.

“But yeah, if you want, I’ll get a ‘lover’ tattoo.”

He paused, blinking rapidly. “Really?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Why not?”

“You never wanted a tattoo before.”

Now you raised both eyebrows. “Did you ever ask me before?”

Jungkook looked down at you, hair a mess, smile blossoming on his face, somewhere between giddiness and mania, diving down and showering you with kisses, you smacking his arms and telling him, you’re bending me in half, the fuck are you doing, and he laughed, lifting both your legs now, I’ll show you bent in half, placing them between his arms, leaning down, sinking in as deep as possible, your moan and his moan mixing together.

You’re still here.

Of course, I am, this is my fucking apartment. Ugh, your black eye looks even uglier than before.

You don’t… you don’t want me to leave?

Did I say that? Uh… why are you crying?

F… Forget I said a-anything…

Hey, stop. Don’t cry. Don’t cry, Jungkook, please…

“Fuck, you feel so good, fuck…!”

Your hands in his hair, teasing grin on your face, and he was looking down at you, I love your smug smile, fuck, your fingers combing through his hair, pushing it back and away from his face, letting him see your smug smile without any obstructions, you always fuck me so well, Jungkook, the smile breaking out over his handsome features, breathing erratic and labored, hard and rough and deep, you rising your hips to meet him for every loud smack, exhales and moans blending together, tight, wet, full, your grip on his hair tightening, closer, closer, racing to the edge of the cliff and the edge of the world, Jungkook in your hands, taking him with you, or was he the one who was leading you?

“Jungkook…”

Breathless as if you were running, winded from the pleasure, tightening around him, his head lowering, your name washing over your cheeks in a hot gasp, putting more weight on you, nearly folded in half but it felt better this way, gratifying in how hard he could fuck you in this position, staring into those dark brown orbs, his body on yours, knowing he was yours, always was, always will be, and you were his, always was, always will be.

Head pressing into the pillows, moaning his name again, loud and unashamed, the overwhelming feeling taking over, muscles tense and nerves on fire, pouring it all into the pleasure, pulsing around his jerking length, his moan of your name on your skin, shooting shivering strings of cum into the condom, massaged and milked by the strength of your orgasm, locking him in your embrace and his arms closing in, lips on lips, a fierce kiss dominated by shuddering aftershocks, trembling in each other’s hold and taking the other’s breath away, blazing hot all over even though this frozen world cared about no one.

The kiss lasted a long, long time.

It fell apart slowly, leaving you both lightheaded from the intensity.

“You’re a waste of time, Jungkook,” you whispered, heated. “But you’re my time.”

The side of his lips quirked upward, sweaty, panting, chuckling.

“That’s all I ever wanted to be.”

--

masterpost

[fandomlit]

secretive (shane madej x reader)

requested by anon “Could you do a Shane Madej x reader where he thinks the reader is cheating on him with Ryan. Like they whisper things to eachother and stop when Shane enters the room, they text all the time and hang out without Shane a lot. He ends up snapping at the reader about it but it turns out they were actually planning a suprise for him.”

summary shane madej has never been an insecure guy. but when it comes to you, that side can come out to play.

gif cred belongs to @ryanbergara​

shane was rarely insecure. he had learned to become proud of who he is, lanky limbs and all. but of course, there was the occasional slip up--especially when it came to you.

when shane first met you, he was smitten. your dorky personality, stunning beauty, and unrelenting kindness drew him into you instantly, and he chased that feeling to the ends of the earth. and now, almost a year and a half into your relationship, he could honestly say that he has never been happier.

but of course, those pesky insecurities come out to play sometimes.

shane had volunteered to do coffee run that morning before filming unsolved. when he came back to the office where he had left you both, he saw you two sitting unbearably close at the desk, talking and smiling and ignoring everyone else in the room setting up for the shoot.

trying his best to brush it off, he entered the office and gave you both a smile. “caffeine time?”

you leaned away from ryan, clapping excitedly. “caffeine time!”

he gave a wide grin at your cheeriness and grabby hands, handing you the order he had memorized on your first date. 

you stood up from the desk and giggled, “you can have your seat back. i gotta get back to work.”

“alright, have fun,” shane smiled. you gave him a quick kiss before skipping off to your workplace. after shane settled in his seat with his coffee, he said to ryan as casually as he could, “what were the whispers about?”

ryan gave him an entirely unconvincing confused look. “what whispers?”

“between you and y/n,” shane explained, motioning to the door you had just exited through.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” ryan said, shaking his head at shane. before shane could press any further, you came back into the office.

“sorry,” you giggled. “forgot my phone.” you snatched off of the small table and then pointed to ryan with a serious expression. “text me, bergara.” and then you left, just as quickly as you had come.

ryan looked up from his prepared manila folder to the camera crew, not daring to glance at the unintentionally glaring shane, and spoke, “are we ready to roll?”

..

“who are you texting?” shane teased when he entered the living room to see you curled up, smiling at your phone.

“just ryan,” you shrugged. that didn’t sit right with shane.

“you two seem awfully close lately,” shane tried to comment nonchalantly. but if he implicated that anything was wrong in his tone, you didn’t notice. you just giggled as your phone buzzed with another text. shane took a sip of his tea with a frown.

after a while of smiling at your phone, you moved over to cuddle with shane as he watched a show on netflix.

you placed a kiss on his cheek as you draped yourself over him. “i love you.”

that did lighten his heart a bit. “i love you, too.”

..

ryan and shane got lunch together many days of the week. then he would come back to the office, pay you a visit in yours, and get back to work. but today, ryan had a different idea in mind.

“why don’t we eat with y/n today?” the shorter man proposed. that unsettled shane a bit. supernatural beings were nothing to him, but a guy taking invested interest in his girl friend as of late? that rattled him.

shane excused, “she’s usually busy during our lunch.. but we can check.” he shrugged. “no harm in that.” and though his thoughts betrayed his words, he led the way to your office.

you were on the phone when shane peeked in. you waved him in as you spoke, “it’s alright, lea.” you tapped your pencil against your desk as the boys filtered in. “yeah, just send it and we can edit and complete. it’s no problem. just relax and enjoy a day off, girl. of course. see you.” you hung up and gave the boys a smile.

“what was that about?” shane asked, coming closer to your desk to give you a quick kiss.

“was that the girl who hasn’t shown up for the past few days?” ryan asked, taking the seat across from your desk.

“yes,” you groaned. “im trying to be patient with her, she’s using some sick days so i can’t really get on her, but did she have to take off in the middle of this project?” you let out a huff.

shane was slightly bothered that ryan knew more about this than he did. but instead, he asked, “would it comfort you at all if we had lunch with you today? or is this girl taking up your schedule?”

you grasped his hand in yours. “please have lunch with me.” you reached out your hand to ryan, who laughed as he took it. you squeezed both of their hands, though shane’s lips were now tightly pursed. “this morning has been insane.”

“we got you,” ryan nodded with a grin that you returned sweetly. when you looked up at shane, he quickly changed his expression into a grin. he felt his jealousy rising second by second during the entire lunch.

..

shane had just walked into the breakroom to see you and ryan laughing as you poured yourself a cup of tea. “that’s actually not a bad idea, bergara. where’d you come up with that one?”

“i’ve got so much in this noggin, you don’t even know, l/n,” ryan responded easily, making you laugh again. shane still hadn’t been noticed, but he felt as if his heart was beating so loud that he surely would be.

“but yeah, shane stays late every thursday,” you continued, “so if you came over right after work, we should be able to get it all done and shane wouldn’t even know!”

“im a genius,” ryan praised.

“that you are,” you agreed, holding your cup out. he clinked his water bottle against it and you both turned to the door. shane was long gone.

..

you had stayed a little bit late that day, and so shane was stuck pacing your shared apartment as he awaited your arrival home, thinking of what to say.

his blood boiled as he thought of the implications of the past couple of weeks. you and ryan were definitely planning something. and with how close you two were lately, it was probably something that shane, your boyfriend, would not care for at all. and if his thoughts were right, then had this happened before? is he only noticing this now? he couldn’t even begin with what he needed to say to you.

you were the most important thing to him. from the moment he met you, he knew he had to be with you. and now that you could be cheating on him with his best friend? his heart was pumping and aching in his chest, and he didn’t know whether to be angry or sad.

when you opened the door, his head immediately shot up. “hey,” you smiled. after you closed the door behind you and took in his frantic state, you asked, “something wrong?”

“we gotta talk,” was all he could manage as he shook his head.

you furrowed your brow as you slipped off your jacket and dropped your bag. “okay..?” you stepped toward him. “what about?”

but your innocence just seemed to frustrate him. “i know about you and ryan.” you stopped in your tracks, but he didn’t dare glance at your reaction to his words. he was worried about what he’d find there. “i heard you guys talking in the breakroom earlier about meeting up when im not home, and how you two always text lately, and you’re always.. touching and..” he took a breath. “i know, y/n.” he finally looked up at you to see your face frozen in what seemed to be shock and concern. you stepped closer to him.

“shane, what?” he stood his ground, arms crossed as you moved in front of him. “shane, no.. no, i love you so much, i would never cheat on you.” you placed your hands on his arms and looked him dead in his eyes. but his expression remained stone.

“why should i believe that?” he spoke lowly.

he wished he hadn’t seen your heart break in your eyes. “shane, ryan and i are your best friends, we wouldn’t dare do that to you. we..” you let out a sigh through your nose and removed your hands from his arms to fish your phone out of your pocket. you unlocked it and handed it to him, revealing the texts between you and ryan.

scrolling up, he found:

boogara, 12:38pm okay, this might be a stupid question..

y/n, 12:42pm i love it already, do tell

boogara, 12:44pm alright do you think it would be at all possible to get balloons custom made as characters from the hotdaga?

y/n, 12:45pm OHMYGOD I LOVE IT WE ABSOLUTELY CAN IM LOOKING INTO IT RN

boogara, 12:46pm shane better appreciate this idea as much as you do when his birthday comes around

y/n, 12:48pm ryan, that man will celebrate harder than he’s ever celebrated before

boogara, 12:49pm he better

shane didn’t know what to make of that as he handed his phone back to you.

“we were planning a surprise party for your birthday,” you sighed, tucking your phone back into your pocket. “that’s why we’re so.. secretive.” you twiddled with your hands nervously. “but i guess not anymore.” shane didn’t know what to say. you looked up to him sadly. “you thought i was cheating on you..?”

shane’s heart burned with guilt. softly, he spoke, “i did, yeah.” your frown deepened. “but not because i don’t trust you,” he explained, taking your hand in his. you looked to your hands instead of his desperate eyes for a moment. “but because i just..” you looked up at him, and the words spilled out, “i don’t know, im just always in awe that i get to be with you and... i guess i got scared that maybe you thought i wasn’t good enough for you, because god knows im not.”

“shane,” you said softly, placing a hand on his cheek. “you’re perfect for me. ryan is definitely one of my best friends, but he doesn’t hold a candle to the love i have for you.” he offered you a short smile. “i only have eyes for you, dork.”

“im sorry,” he whispered. you pulled him in for a tight hug.

“i am, too,” you sighed, resting your head on his shoulder. “will you still act surprised for your birthday..? ryan’s pretty proud of himself.”

“i’d do anything for that little guy,” he sighed, pulling away from you to gaze at your sweet smile. “let’s go watch drunk history.”

forever tags <3 @bombardia @simonsbluee @ari-shipping-stuff @cheshirecat107 @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Little Witch | The Mikaelson Boys

Hey lovelies, I’m finally back with some Mikaleson Brothers content. I’ve had this idea for a while and rewrote it about a thousand times. I’m not sure if I love this but I needed to just finish it. I feel like it’s not that great but regardless I’m giving it to you. It’s super fluffy and a quick burn romance but, hey, who doesn’t like kissing me you just met you know? In all seriousness I hope you’re all doing well. I know life is really off right now and I hope this helps. All my love <3 until next time loves!

Description: Hogwarts and The Originals crossover, disbelief must be suspended for this one as we all know some of this doesn’t add up, soulmate AU

Pairing: The Mikaelson Boys x Female!Hufflepuff!Reader

Warnings: there are no warnings

Word count: 6.7k

Tags: FLUFF

Tag List: @activist-af , @hellotvshowtrash , @firebirdsalvatore

(Photos not mine but mood board is :) )

“There you are, sweetheart,” her gentle voice breaks through you dreams, pulling you from the same scene you’ve grown used to seeing for the last couple weeks, “you’re going to miss dinner sleepyhead.”

You awake to a familiar picture: your books sprawled across a desk in the middle of the library and a fiery redhead with a soft smile holding a semi-crumpled cardigan towards you. Her eyes twinkle with laughter and familiarity. This isn’t the first time Arabella has found you asleep after you told her you were going to be studying. When you look down at your divination textbook you notice a small pink smudge from your cherry lip gloss. You wipe your fingers around your lips, collecting the rest of your smeared makeup.

You stifle a yawn, stretching your limbs out with a soft groan, “shoot, I fell asleep again. What time is it, Ari?”

“Quarter to six, hun,” she reaches out to brush some fallen hair out of your eyes, “we should really get a move on. Are you feeling okay?”

You nod, this time the yawn interrupting any intention to answer that you had. Your head buzzes lightly with the remnants of your dream. For weeks you’ve felt something on the horizon, something meant just for you. Three pairs of brown eyes and the warmest feeling in your chest. It’s the same feeling you’ve been waking up with every night, if not a touch stronger this evening. You don’t mind it though, it layers a warmth to your bones that this winter in the castle has stripped from you.

“I haven’t been sleeping too well lately is all,” you let Arabella help you slip your cardigan back on, straightening it and your tie, evening the yellow and gray stripes. 

Her hands still against your shoulders, her concerned green eyes meeting your own half open ones, “still having those dreams, sunshine?” 

You nod once more, sagging slightly from the weight of your tote when she loops it over your shoulder. Your skin tingles with slight electricity, lulling your already fuzzy brain into a deeper haze. You tug your sleeves over your hands, scrunching your fingers into a fist to try and regain some awareness.

“Hmm,” Arabella pushes the same strand of hair from your forehead again, removing her headband and putting it on you instead to keep your unruly strands in place, “remind me to make you some tea before bed. I have some herbs from the greenhouse that might help with them. Let’s go get some food into you first though, ok?

She links her arm through yours, pulling you alongside her towards the dining hall. The corridors are mostly empty, spare a few behind students. Much like yourselves, they hurry in the same direction, following the wafting smell of roasted chicken and pumpkin pie. You can’t help but shiver as you watch them rush, feeling like someone forgot to tell you something. As if everyone knows a secret that you very well must have snoozed through.

“Hey Ari,” you tug lightly on her sleeve to get her attention, “why is everyone in such a hurry? Did I miss something?”

She looks confused for a moment, her button nose scrunching tight before her mouth falls open, “oh yes, that’s right! I forgot to tell you! Some seventh year prefects overheard McGonagall talking about some exchange students from Ilvermorny. They’re supposed to be here for dinner!”

Your skin crackles with electricity, the air static with anticipation, “Ilvermorny? They’re from America?”

She nods her head cheerfully as the two of you approach the towering doors of the dining hall, “I know, it’s crazy right?”

You can hear the buzz of activity emitting from the hall before you cross the corridor, a dull roar that lights you with an even mixture of excitement and nervousness. 

“They certainly think so,” you motion to the giggling fourth year girls who scurry past you, their chatter no doubt about the possibility of Hogwarts’ newest additions. 

The current coursing through your body sings when Arabella pulls you through the doors. The dining hall is a flurry of activity, each house no doubt wondering if they’ve gained any new members tonight. The thought of some new Hufflepuffs warms your heart. You haven’t had any new faces around in ages it feels like. You let her lead you to a few seats left open near the front of the hall, next to the small stage.

You fall into your seat with a sigh, graciously accepting the plate of food Arabella hands you. How she made it so quick you aren't sure. Magic probably, that would make the most sense. When you glance over at her she has her wand out, levitating food onto her own plate. She always puts you ahead of herself, something you can't help but feel bad about sometimes. Regardless, it warms your heart immensely to be lucky enough to have such a caring best friend. You catch her eye and she passes you a loving smile and a wink before lowering her plate. 

As you take the first bite of your pumpkin pie, ignoring the nudge you get for eating your dessert first, Headmistress McGonogal taps her wand to the podium in front of her.

“Students,” she clears her throat, waiting for the noise in the great hall to quiet, “as quite a few of you have already heard by now,” she searches you all with a glint in her eye, a small smile on her lips, “we have a few students joining us.”

The great hall buzzes at her admission, a current running through the entirety of the student body and, most of all, you. Your head feels like it’s spinning. Like you’ve just drunk a litre of fire whiskey and that if you stand up there’s a good chance you’ll fall right over. You drop your fork but the clatter it makes doesn’t register with you as much as it should. Arabella looks over at you, clearly worried, and raises her eyebrows, placing a warm hand on your back. 

As you go to shrug your shoulders at her, the doors to the great hall open once more, “ah, and here they are! Please, everyone, show them your warmest welcome. They have come a long way, all the way from Ilvermorny in the United States.”

McGonogal continues to speak about Hogwarts and its connection to Ilvermorny but her speech is drowned out by cheering from all over the great hall. Well, you’re pretty sure it is. Your pulse is thundering so loudly in your ears that you can’t hear much of anything at all. Arabella stares at you still, growing more and more scared as the seconds pass. You think you say something, you open your mouth at least, but whatever words come out of your mouth don’t reach your ears. Arabella tightens her grip.

You close your eyes, squeezing them shut tightly, desperately willing your senses to go back to normal. It almost works too but then you breathe in and are hit with three scents so hard that you almost vomit. Not because they’re terrible, though, they’re anything but. No, you almost puke because of how fast you’re swamped in pine and buttery leather and the entire damn sea and how quickly it makes your heart rate spike. Are you having a heart attack? What is going on?

When you open your eyes the great hall is spinning and you know for a fact that you’re the only one experiencing this carousel ride. You have to get out of here. You push away from the table, standing on legs much too shaky for your own good. Arabella calls your name and it sounds like she’s behind a thick sheet of glass, one you can’t break no matter how hard you slam against it. The trees and leather and sea wraps around you again and your knees almost give out. There’s only one thing you can think to do and you don’t hesitate to do it. 

You run like hell. 

No. Scratch that. You run like hell is chasing you and, well, maybe it is. Maybe hell is a person, or people, perhaps even three people, and their footsteps pound down the corridor behind you so loud they echo through your chest. Your kilt whips around your legs, your hair flying behind you as you clear the corners as they come. You can feel them, whoever they are, gaining but slowly. You can make it, you know you can.

It’s midwinter, the thick of February, and yet you feel like you’re wading through lava. The halls should be ice right now but your blood is scorching you from the inside out. You pull the sweater from your chest as you run, not thinking twice before dropping it, never stopping. Your skin is charged with electricity and you want to scream and tear your heart out but you can’t, not now. You feel them like they’re right on your heels, the triplet of scents swirling furiously around you. You need to get outside. Now. 

You make it to the courtyard, practically leaping off the cement steps, but a hand catches your arm midair and you stumble. You see the ground hurtling towards you in slow motion, the cobblestone path laughing at you. You squeeze your eyes shut, waiting for the stones to bite into your side but they never do. Instead you’re wrapped in pine, two warm arms pulling you into a firm, hot chest. 

You thought your skin was electrified before but that was nothing compared to what is now. Everywhere your body touches the person holding you prickles with static. You can almost hear your flesh crackle, each one of your veins roaring so loud that all you can hear is your blood rushing through you. It’s like a tsunami, waves of fire and power and fucking pine rolling over you unrelentlessly. You aren’t quite sure if you’re still breathing.

You feel another pair of hands on your back, rubbing up and down, spreading the fire like butter over your shoulder blades. Your body reacts on it’s own, your back arching into whoever it is behind you, your head falling onto a shoulder that smells like summer at the beach. 

A part of you is screaming to run. To jab your elbow into their stomach and fight like hell. However, against all of your better judgement, the feeling is fading and fast. Hands skim down your arms lightly and you fight the delicious shiver that crawls up your spine. You don’t realize you’re still clinging to the first person until your fists squeeze around the cotton of their shirt. Their hands hand loosely off your hips and you don’t even want to acknowledge how much you like it. 

Instead of fighting, you pry your eyes open, only to stare directly into strikingly familiar brown eyes. Your breath catches in your chest, your head still against his shoulder. He leans closer towards you, blonde hair falling down his face slightly. It looks entirely soft and you squeeze your hands tighter, resisting the urge to touch this stranger’s hair. His scent, that overbearing ocean, wraps around you again. He definitely doesn’t feel like a stranger.

“Hi love,” his voice is soft and lulls you deeper into his chest, his nose skimming the arch of your cheekbone, “you’re lucky we’re fast. That could have been quite the fall.”

He chuckles lightly and your cheeks flame, the noise like the wind chimes you hung in the greenhouse your fourth year. His laugh hits you in the gut and radiates to every inch of your skin, cooling the flames but also concentrating them lower. Too low. Your traitorous core sets on fire from the mixture of his musical laugh and mesmerizing eyes. Merlin, you don’t even know his name.

You look away from him but you can’t escape his eyes no matter how hard you try, looking directly into an identical pair of warm, brown eyes. The man in front of you, the one with his hands squeezing your hips, is also frustratingly familiar. He’s tall, his chest, the one underneath your fingertips, is broad and heaves up and down with every breath. Your body, being the wanton force of nature she is, longs to have you wrap your legs, and every other part of you, around the man in front of you. When the blonde behind you wraps his arms around your stomach, reminding you that he’s still there, you want to do the same to him as well.

Memories prickle the edges of your mind, the dreams you’ve been having for weeks now flashing behind your eyelids every time you blink. The warmth in your bones and the molten brown eyes. The same electricity that is burning through your chest and head and core, only now it’s a million times stronger. You shake your head. Not at the man in front of you but at yourself. No way are these the men from your dreams. That’s impossible, Right? And besides, there were three eyes in your dreams.

“There you guys are,” a voice, steadily approaching and as slow and tantalizing as honey, pulls your attention away from the men surrounding you, “I can’t believe you left me to explain what was happening to McGonagall.”

You meet the third pair of eyes with an audible gasp, his sharp leather scent curling around you despite the distance between the two of you. It sinks into your skin and puts you in motion, like the potion you needed to break whatever paralyzing spell you were under. You pull yourself so suddenly from the two men that they don’t have time to catch you, putting some much needed distance between all four of you. You force yourself to ignore the way your heart aches already. Your hand finds the wand in your kilt pocket. Stupid girl, longing for men you don’t even know. 

You find your voice but only enough to mutter hastily, “Were you chasing me? Aren’t you supposed to be meeting, like, the whole school right now? What in Merlin’s name is going on?” 

The newest male takes a step towards you, his eyes drawing up and down your body, reigniting the heat that has been slowly subsiding and lingering on your hand wrapped around your wand. He smirks at you, like he knows something that you don’t and, honestly, he probably does. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth. His hair is dark brown and just as touchable as the previous two. You squeeze your fist tighter.

“One question at a time, darling,” he takes another step and you tense your shoulders instinctively even though your body is fighting the urge to run to him, “we’ll tell you everything. Can we go inside first, though? You look like you’re freezing. Is this yours?”

His question isn’t really a question, in his hands is your cardigan. He picked it up for you? You let your shoulders sag slightly and your grip loosen. He doesn’t know you, why did he bother picking it up?

“I-,” you release the wand slowly, “yeah that’s mine. Thank you.”

He’s right about the cold, now that you aren’t sandwiched between the other two men the chill nips at your fingers and legs. You go to take your sweater from him but he holds it open, beckoning you to turn around and let him put it on you for you. You sigh but oblige, tucking your arms into the soft wool with his help. His hands smooth down your arms once you’re settled, the familiar sparks following their path. You’re head squeezes with confusion and you want to scream if only to release the pressure.

You turn in his hands, meaning to break his hold but only ending up closer to his chest, “what is going on?”

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to his chest. The ache in your heart eases drastically and you breathe in the leather once more. Merlin’s sake, this is exhausting. Even so, your limbs feel lighter in his arms. His eyes burn into yours and you don’t even try to look away, letting him extract whatever information he wants from you. You’re almost sure he can read every thought flashing through your eyes.

“Can’t you feel it?” His hand brushes your cheek, your skin buzzing on cue, “feel us? Like there’s a string pulling you to us, right? We feel warm, don’t we, and you want to be near us. You feel like you know us but you don’t know how or why.”

You find yourself nodding along to the words of a man whose name you don’t even know yet, your hands finding their way to his chest. 

“Who are you,” you turn to meet the other two, your eyes wide, “all of you.” 

The second man, the one who caught you, steps forward, holding out a hand for you to take. You aren’t sure why but you look back to the male in front of you, the one with his arms still tight around you, for approval. He nods, letting his arms fall almost reluctantly. When he releases you, you’re quickly pulled back into the pine scented chest. You don’t like how easily your body moulds to his, how his body seems to have some sort of claim on yours. How all of their bodies do.

“Elijah,” he rests his chin against your head, caging you against a chest that feels too much like home to make any sense, “I’m Elijah. You were just talking to Kol and Klaus-”

The hands, the same ones from before, once again rest on your back, drawing a traitorous sigh from your lips, “is right behind you, love, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Your heart squeezes dangerously at his words, letting them fill you with the warmth of his promise. Even if your rationality doesn't accept it for the immediate truth it is, every other part of you does. You pull out of Elijah’s arms and turn to the ocean of a man behind you, throwing your arms around his neck without a second thought. He, too, feels like coming home. He takes no time squeezing you against him and burying his face in your neck. You feel hands behind you move your hair away from your neck and then a nose drawing up the exposed bumps of your spine. 

“I don’t understand any of this,” you mumble into Klaus’ shoulder, “I don’t understand what any of this means.”

“Of course you do, darling. You can feel it in your bones,” Kol pushes his nose against your temple, his lips skimming your ear before tugging the lobe between his teeth.

Merlin. His teeth on your skin sends heat pooling in the pit of your belly. You tighten your arms around Klaus, biting back an embarrassing moan as he laughs again. This time the sound echos through your chest and wraps around your heart, grabbing on and refusing to let go. Kol’s lips skim down your jaw, nipping lightly at your throat in a way that is completely inappropriate for a man you just met but you don’t care right now. 

Arms wrap around you from behind and you sink back into them, letting Elijah spin you and haul you into his chest. Your head is spinning from how quickly you’re being passed around by men you don’t know. Your heart stings slightly, the comfort you feel in the large male’s arms screaming at you. Perhaps you don’t know them but your body has been waiting centuries for them and is more than ready to reunite. You don’t hesitate to wrap your legs around him. 

“Baby,” your heart stutters and his pupils expand like he can hear it, “do you mind if we go back to our dorm before anyone sees us?” Elijah glances over your head, searching around the courtyard before landing back on yours, “This is a lot to explain to one person, let alone the whole school.”

Your cheeks flame for the millionth time and your head whips around, searching the courtyard yourself for any prying eyes. You breathe a quick sigh of relief when you don’t see anyone. He’s right and, besides, you really are freezing now, your exposed legs two icicles.

You smile gently at him, savouring the way his eyes draw to your lips, “that’s probably a good idea.”

You go to unwrap your legs from his hips when he stops you, his hands tightening around your back and thighs, “may I?”

Your eyes widen, your hands stilling on his shoulders, “you want to carry me?”

He leans his forehead against yours, his nose brushing yours gently, “very much so, baby.”

Your heart feels like it restarts, kicking your pulse into overdrive. You don’t trust yourself to speak, your entire body engulfed in pine and flames like a forest fire that you never knew could exist. You just nod, your arms snaking around his neck and pulling you flush against his chest. You can feel every breath he takes, closing your eyes when he begins walking. 

The hallways, thankfully, feel empty and you don’t open your eyes, letting yourself sink into Elijah’s chest like you’ve been doing it your whole life and this isn’t your first experience being held by someone as large and strong as him. Your fingers, laying on the back of his neck, can’t resist shuffling through his hair. You’re already in his arms anyway, so what’s the harm. Just as you thought, his hair is soft to the touch and mesmerizing. You tangle your fingers through it, the last dregs of anxiety seeping from your bones. 

When he starts down a staircase that you aren’t anticipating you tighten your fingers, squeezing your thighs to keep from falling out of his arms. In turn Elijah releases a breathy groan, one that hits you directly between your thighs. When you open your eyes you’re met with a coal black instead of the warm brown from minutes ago. Your breath catches in your throat but not from fear, albeit it should be. You know you should be painfully afraid of this man, whom you barely know, whose arms are wrapped around you so tight it almost hurts, but you aren’t. Not even a little bit. 

Not even when he opens his mouth and you see two, very sharp looking fangs poking out of his gums, “Eli?”

You don’t know where the nickname comes from and, honestly, you don’t care. All you can think about is the irrational heat growing between your legs and his hands, once again squeezing your hips. Who is this man and why do you want him to press you against the stairs and do unspeakable things to you? You look over his shoulders at Kol and Klaus, whose eyes aren’t quite the same charcoal as Elijah’s but definitely not the sunshine whiskey that they were before. You have to bite your lip again to keep from squeezing your legs harder around Elijah. 

“Come on,” Klaus steps ahead of you and Elijah, glancing back over his shoulder and smirking teasingly, “I can hear people leaving the Great Hall.”

You furrow your eyebrows at him. How can he possibly hear the Great Hall from here? You glance back to Elijah, the sight of his fangs flashing through your mind. You shake your head, not wanting to think about any of this right now. You reach a hand up, cupping his jaw and running your thumb over his cheek like any of this at all is normal.

“Klaus is right, Eli. We need to figure this out before it gets around the school.” More than it already is, you add in your head.

The four of you somehow make it to their dorm and you breathe a sigh of relief when it’s segregated from the rest of the dorms. McGonagall probably gave them their own dorm to make them feel more comfortable. You’re just thankful to be away from the open space. You already know the entire school will be talking about what happened. Merlin why is it always you? You’re just a Hufflepuff, you didn’t sign up for any of this. 

Their dorm is magnificent. The doorway leads into a moody common room, surrounded with cozy browns and greens. The walls are lined with bookshelves and there’s a window looking out into the lake. The waves lap against the glass and you giggle as a few fish swim by, stopping to look into the room and then continue on their way. The room smells like all three of them. Like every plain of earth and sea and air. There are four doors leading to what you can only assume are their bedrooms and bathroom. Compared to your dorm, which you love but also share with five other girls, this place is an oasis.

Elijah sets you on an incredibly soft, brown leather couch and you pull your legs up, tucking them underneath you. Kol settles next to you, his arm resting on the back of the couch, behind your head. Klaus sits on your other side, pulling your legs from under you and over his lap, his hands rubbing circles on your calves. With your back now to Kol, you can’t help but let your head fall to the side against his arm, soaking in the warmth of his skin. The dungeons are colder than you thought they would be. How do the Slytherins do it? He laughs quietly, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you to lay against his chest. 

Elijah settles on the coffee table in front of the couch, leaning his elbows on his knees and staring at you with a look only slightly less hot than before. You hold a hand out for him, one he quickly takes, threading his fingers between yours, pulling your knuckles to his lips. Klaus’ hands are slowly working up your legs, now wrapped around your knees and steadily moving higher. You squeeze your eyes tight before opening them and staring at the ceiling, avoiding three pairs of brown eyes to the best of your ability.

You sigh gently, leaning into Kol’s hands as his fingers search through your hair, scratching at your scalp in a way that makes you almost keep your thoughts to yourself if only to ensure he doesn’t stop. But you need answers now.

“Okay, I’m serious this time,” your eyes train on a bookshelf, counting the books to keep yourself focussed, “who are you? You clearly aren’t like me, you aren’t witches, but you definitely aren’t regular people,” you suck in a breath, your eyes stalling on a thick book titled The History of Mythical Creatures, “so what, pray tell, are you?”

Your eyes stay focussed on the book but you don’t want to entertain the thoughts flowing through your mind. You had to read that volume in your seventh year myth class. Just because you’re a witch it doesn’t mean you’re used to the creatures you’re taught about. There’s a reason every student at Hogwarts takes eight years of defensive magic.

“You got us, little witch,” Klaus’ hands are above your knees now, kneading your exposed flesh with skilled fingers, “clever and beautiful. The perfect mate.”

Your eyes snap from the bookshelf, from the book that you know holds the answer to their identity, to the blonde lazily licking his own extended fangs. Mate. Did he just say mate? There’s no way he just said mate. Impossible. You’re a witch. As far as being mythical goes, you’re as close to normal as it gets. They, however, are something stronger. You can feel the power rolling off of them. 

“I,” your mouth falls open, your mind spinning, “what?”

Kol laughs from behind you, his chest rumbling under your back. He pulls your hair to the side again before capturing your ear with his mouth again. 

“You heard him, darling,” he tugs your earlobe between his teeth, pulling a tiny gasp from you as, “your ours. And, I hate to break it to you, but we’re pretty hard to get rid of. ”

Klaus’ hands squeeze right below the hem of your kilt, lighting your skin with the delicious sparks. If his hands weren’t there you would be squeezing your legs together for sure.

“He’s right, love, I’ve tried. Many times,” Klaus smirks at Kol in only the way an older brother could and it hits you.

“Oh, Merlin,” you close your eyes again, heat flaring across your face, “you’re brothers. All three of you are brothers. What is going on, Helga help me.”

All three of them laugh and Elijah kisses your knuckles again, “yes baby, we are in fact brothers. It’s been a long millennium.”

“Millenium?” You feel faint.

He laughs again and you wish you could pluck the sound out of the air and hold onto it for the rest of your life. When you look at him all you can do is smile and run a hand down your face. A thousand years, huh? Klaus’ hands trace lazy circles on your inner thighs as Kol’s lips find your neck, his teeth scraping your skin in a way that has you sinking even further into his buttery leather arms. When he bites down a touch harder you can’t help but wonder what kind of experience a thousand years would allow a person. 

A thousand years. Your chest stings unexpectedly as another thought hits you. It must be the day for that.

“I don’t think I’ll live a millenium. I probably have a few hundred years but a thousand? Not even close,” your heart stutters, a cold chill running over you, “You’ll all outlive me.”

Three growls sound in the room and you almost jump out of your skin in shock before you realize that they’re coming from them. Kol tightens his arms around you protectively as Klaus’ hands find your hips under your kilt, squeezing you like you just suggested you’re going to die tomorrow. Elijah drops from the coffee table, sinking to his knees in front of you and throwing an arm over your stomach. 

“You’ll be living a lot longer than that, baby, I assure you of that.”

You reach a hand towards Elijah, curling your fingers through his hair on instinct, “I may be magic, Eli, but I’m not immortal. It’s not the same for me.”

He leans into your palm, rubbing his cheek against your fingertips, “that’s an easy fix.”

Your head spins, the pieces connecting in your head as you stare into his serious eyes. For the first time all night a tinge of fear zaps your chest. Immortality is no joke.

“You want me to become like you?” You look away from him and Klaus, who nods in agreement with his brother, “You want me to become a-”

Kol nips the back of your neck and you try to ignore the pleasure rolling through you in the midst of the most serious conversation of your life, “a vampire, darling. You can say it. We’re vampires.”

The word echoes through you, bouncing around your head and lungs, fluttering in your stomach before finally settling directly between your thighs. Merlin. You sit upright quickly, pulling your legs from Klaus’ dangerously skilled fingers, and all but stumble over Elijah and the coffee table in order to put some distance between you and the brothers. You scrub your hands over your face, your entire body feeling more alive than it ever has in your short lifetime. But you know it can’t last.

You keep your hands over your eyes, letting the open air sooth you for a moment before speaking, “I’m just a witch. Just one witch and not even a good one at that,” you peel your hands from your eyes, opting instead to tug your hair, “I’m more of a farmer, honestly. I spend all my time in the library or the greenhouses. I’m not mate material. I’m definitely not,” you swallow thickly, your throat closing all of a sudden and without your permission, “vampire material. You have the wrong girl.”

As soon as you say the words they feel wrong but they’re already out of your mouth and you have to live with them now. For a long moment nobody says anything. It’s just you standing in front of them, your eyes refusing to open and your hands ripping at your hair. Your legs tremble beneath you and it feels like your heart is trying to crawl out of your throat. If it can’t be with them then it would rather stop beating altogether. The cold air of their dungeon dorm nips at your legs and fingertips painfully and you revel in the feeling of something other than the torrent of emotions that you’ve been battling for the better half of an hour. 

You feel a rush of air in front of you, forcing your eyes open just in time to see Kol standing in front of you. You open your mouth, ready to let even more words that you know you’ll regret out, but you find that you can’t speak. Not because you don’t want to, though, but because Kol’s mouth is now crashing into yours and, gods, does it ever feel like you’re breathing for the first time. Kol’s mouth is oxygen. Like before this moment you were dead and his lips are life. You grip his shoulders, your fingers digging into the taught muscle to keep yourself upright against this force of nature. 

His hands wrap in your hair and he tugs gently, swallowing each moan like it’s candy and he can’t get enough. Your hands crawl from his shoulders to his hair, doing the same to him. He groans, a sound completely different from Elijah but so similar at the same time. When his tongue finds its way between your lips you see stars. Your blood sings like you’ve walked through a magnetic field, your veins buzzing with a foreign kind of power. This time you don’t feel like you’re home, you know you are.

Kol pulls back a fraction, his lips brushing yours while he speaks, “you feel that?” His hands move to your cheeks, your skin like a current where he touches you, “I know you do, I know you feel me in your veins, darling. I don’t have the wrong person. Fate doesn’t make mistakes. You’re perfect for me.”

Your eyes widen and you push back the swell of emotion rising in your chest.

A pair of arms wraps around you from behind, a riptide pulling you into an ocean of a man, “me as well, my little witch. Besides, I quite like farmers. Tell me, can you grow strawberries?”

You try to stop yourself from sagging against his chest but you can’t and you don’t actually want to. His head falls on yours as if he’s been doing it for years.

“Pumpkins,” you whisper. You don’t know what else to say, knowing full well you aren’t ready to answer the other questions, “I grow the best pumpkins in the school.”

Klaus’ chest rumbles like a cat purring against your back, “pumpkin pie it is then, love.”

You feel a hand close around your arm, pulling you from both Kol and Klaus and into a pair of arms that rival the dark forest. Elijah lifts you against his chest, giving you a moment to wrap your legs around him before he walks the two of you to the window. He looks out in the water and it eases you knowing that you don’t have to answer to his molten brown eyes.

“I know this is a lot to take in right now, baby. I know you’re scared and tired, I can feel it. You don’t have to make any decisions right now. In fact, I’d rather you didn’t. But just know that we’re here because something stronger than time itself brought us to you. No mistakes were made,” he catches your eyes through the reflection of the glass, “I’m ready for whatever challenges this brings. I’ve been ready for a thousand years, ten lifetimes, and I would wait fifty more for you,” he pulls you further up his chest, pressing his forehead against yours, “just think about it. That’s all I’m asking.”

You can’t stop yourself from pressing your lips against his, catching his bottom lip between yours, “graduation.”

He pulls back, his eyes wide and his eyebrows scrunched together, “what?”

You pull his face back to yours, stealing another kiss that he doesn’t hesitate to return, “I just need until graduation. I need to finish my last year here, it’s my home. After that, I’m yours.”

He crushes you against him as soon as the last syllable leaves your lips and you let yourself giggle freely. He looks at you in awe, a smile blooming across his face like he just won the lottery. Kol and Klaus are next to you in an instant, their faces almost mirror images of Elijah’s. Your heart soars at the sight of the three boys you met less than three hours ago who you’ve just promised the rest of your life, and longer, to. It sounds ridiculous still but nothing has ever felt so right.

“Well, brothers,” Klaus’ eyes shine happily, “it looks like we’re going to be here longer than we thought.”

[tomtenadia]

Island Dreams - Chapter 3

Hi all and welcome to chapter 3.

So, thing are starting to happen and, alas, angst has decided to come and pay a visit. I used HoF for a bit of inspiration.

Some Gaelic for you: suidh sìos - sit down

The light issue at the very beginning: Yes, in Scotland, in the summer, it can get quite difficult to sleep. Day are super long and it's easy to have light until late and back again at 3am.

I have read it twice before posting. But I had a very long day at work and if I have left some typos I apologise.

Happy reading!

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Aelin had woken up early that morning. She had forgotten to close the curtains the previous night. She had gotten home quite late from her trip and she was grateful that the supermarket stayed open until late because she still had to buy food for the house. She had whipped up a quick dinner, a shower and then she had tucked herself on the chair in her room. It was so bright outside that she could not force herself to go to bed. Eventually tiredness caught up with her and she gave up. Because she forgot to close the curtains, now it was broad daylight even if it was just 4am. She rolled on the other side and tucked her head under the pillow and went back to sleep. She awoke again two hours later. Apparently the adrenaline of being in a new place was too much. So she got up and decided she could go for a run. She donned her running clothes and she left the house. She had spotted a place called Lews castle and from the map it seemed the perfect place for a run in a park. Aelin followed the marina cut through the town centre, passed Rowan’s shop and ended up near the river. Then crossed the small bridge to reach Lews’ castle grounds. Quickly she took a mental note of the fact that the place was a museum and added it to the list of places to visit, which by the way was getting longer by the minute and kept running a good hour until her body started to protest. The day was gorgeous again and they were blessed with a stunning blue sky. Aelin ran found her way back to a road that took her on a pier along the sea. Finally decided to sit at the bench and relaxed a bit, taking a full mouthful from her water bottle. In London she had little chance of running in parks so she had to use a gym but here… she could run in the nature and it made all the difference.

A few elderly people greeted her as they passed the bench and that was something else that stunned her. Complete strangers greeting her. She removed the headphones from her ears and decided to listen to the sounds of the place around her. She had always considered herself a die-hard city girl. Someone who could never leave the hustle and bustle of the big city. Her soul craved the frenetic life that London gave her. And now, in her early thirties, with her life completely upside down and on pause she was starting to realise that things had changed so much from when she was young. All of sudden her priorities had turned and a quiet life was all she wanted. She needed to slow down. Her ambition had helped her to secure a position quite high in her job. But that ambition had not helped her to reach the top. She had literally given her life to her job. She had sacrificed so much and it had been all for nothing and came to the realisation that she felt lost. For the first time in her life she could not see the path ahead. And that was why she had left. To try and live day by day for a while and learn to enjoy life again hoping that life in a quiet place like Stornoway would give her purpose again. “Oh Aelin, stop maudlin.” She told herself, getting fed up with the dark twist her thoughts had taken. She sighed and stood and started running again, tracing her path back to the town centre. Eventually went back to the house, took a shower and an hour later she was ready to head off to Maeve’s for breakfast. She was quite eager to taste her cakes. The woman had given her a slice of a chocolate cake the day before and Aelin had admitted it was of the best cakes she had ever tasted.

Twenty minutes later she reached the coffee shop and was happy to see that it was open. It was just about 9am and wasn’t not sure yet when life on the islands actually started. “Madainn mhath” she said, feeling like an idiot for her horrendous pronunciation. Once she noticed the shop was empty she felt better. At least she did not embarrassed herself in front of an audience. “Oh, Madainn mhath, a Aelin.” Said the woman from behind the counter “Are you here for breakfast?” Aelin took a seat at a table near the counter “Yes, but not Scottish breakfast this morning. I don’t think I can survive it tow mornings in a row.” Maeve laughed “I made some lovely apple turnovers, fancy one?” Aelin’s mouth began watering. If they were as good as the cake… “Make it two. I went for a run and I am starving.” Maeve disappeared through the back and came back a bit later with a tray with a mug of coffee and the apple turnovers. “I am going to get so fat.” She said out loud and then began tackling her breakfast and listened to the music in the background. It was a female singer and she sang in what Aelin was positive was Gaelic. Rowan was right. It was such a beautiful language and sung was even better. “Who is the singer?” “She is Julie Fowlis. She is from North Uist and sings mostly in Gaelic. She is a great singer.” The tune was slow and it seemed quite sad. “This song is called Mo Dhòmhnallan Fhèin, and it means My own Donald. It’s a sad love story.” “It’s beautiful.” She commented and corrected herself quickly “The language, I mean, not the sad love story.” “Ask Rowan and he will give you plenty of suggestions of bands you can discover if you want to listen to locals or Gaelic singers.” The woman explained and took a seat in front of her sipping her own cup of coffee. Aelin had such good vibes from the woman. She was very maternal to her and towards Rowan as well. She was curious to know more about their relationship. Something told her that it was deeper than it seemed. “And if you are still here in July you cannot miss Heb Celt. It’s a wonderful festival of Scottish music. It’s a three day event but it brings people from across all of Scotland and oversea as well. “It sounds wonderful.” “You just have to stay a bit longer.” Aelin sighed “I have been here only a day and I already feel as my soul has been stolen by these islands. I…” she paused, she felt like she could talk to Maeve. “I left my life in London for now. I needed a break before crumpling down for good.” Maeve put a hand on Aelin’s arm “As I told you yesterday, this is the perfect life. Island life here is a cure for the soul.” Said the woman squeezing the arm gently “Want to talk about it?” Aelin took a sip of coffee to gather her thoughts “Big job delusion and a bad divorce.” She did not have the mental strength to go into too much detail. It still hurt too much and Lysandra was the only person with whom she could fully talk about her life. “I feel lost and stuck.” A flicker of deep tenderness appeared in Maeve’s eyes “Sounds like you and Rowan could help each other.” Aelin whipped her head in the direction of the woman and stared at her. “He is stuck too.” That’s all Maeve volunteered. The woman stood as soon as a customer entered the shop. She greeted the man and they began a conversation in Gaelic. Aelin was staring at her empty plate and was still pondering about the comment that Maeve made about her nephew. What did she mean by they could help each other? And why was he stuck? She wanted to know more but could not ask him. He seemed like the very reserved type and she had no intention to pry. Once her plate was clear and breakfast over, she stood and was about to leave when Maeve reached her and gave her a take away cup “Could you please bring this to Rowan? He should be opening his shop now.” “Of course.” Aelin said her goodbyes to the woman and left, taking the path to Rowan’s shop. She had to buy the next books in the series anyway so she was just catching two birds with one stone. Once she got to the shop she noticed it was open. She entered and Rowan was at the counter working on the computer. “Madainn mhath.” She tried again. He looked up and noticed her and a brief and quick smile appeared on his lips but not genuine enough to reach his beautiful green eyes. “Morning to you.” He replied almost annoyed. “I bring coffee. Courtesy of your aunt.” Aelin offered him the cup but the reaction she got from him was unexpected. He glared at her “What did you say?” “Coffee from your aunt?” “How do you know Maeve is my aunt?” His tone was now tinged with anger. “She told me.” He ignored the cup of coffee and continued working as if Aelin was not even in the shop “She shouldn’t have.” “Is that a secret?” “It was not her place. And it’s definitely none of your business.” Rowan was mad. It was clear from his facial expression, but she could not understand why such a statement would make him so mad. Aelin placed the cup on the counter with a bit too much force “Don’t worry she did not reveal any big secret. Your fucking perfect life is safe.” He slammed the pen on the desk at her tone “What do you want? You delivered the coffee, your job is done.” Aelin was now fuming.”What do I want?” Her tone dripped vitriol. If he wanted a fight, she was giving him one. “I was being nice.” She put the backpack on her shoulder, ready to leave “I was here to buy the next books in the series I got yesterday. I came here to thank you as well for the suggestions you gave me yesterday because I loved every place you recommended." she took a deep breath and tried to calm her fury "And while I am here how do you say asshole in Gaelic?” She noted his reaction and she knew she had gone too far. That was her bloody problem, she had no filters and sometimes she struggled to connect brain and mouth before speaking. Something she had become pretty good at doing during her many fights with Chaol. Not her proudest moment. He left the counter and went to the shelf where she got the book the day before. He came back a moment later with three books in his hands “I don’t have the last one. I can order it.” “Leave it. I’ll order it on Amazon just to piss you off.” She really had to learn control herself. She took another deep breath “Fine, order it.” He didn’t comment and started typing on the computer. “It should be here in a week. I’ll let Maeve know. You are best chums now.” There was irritation in his voice. He was actually mad at her. “You should expect to see us skipping arm in arm around Stornoway singing bawdy songs pretty soon.” He did not like the joke. Definitely the wrong crowd. “Try and get laid. It helps the mood.” She added and hated herself seconds after it once she remembered what Maeve said. He was stuck too. “I am sorry…” Apologising right away for her horrible comment. She was a bloody idiot. “It’s £21.50” he said flatly and with no emotion in his voice. His eyes were cold and it looked like he could kill her with a stare. He kept the bag with the books for a moment and leaned forward on the counter “Don’t you dare to comment on my life ever again. You are a customer. Nothing more. You are nothing to me.” Aelin felt like crying. Yes, she had been nasty but Rowan was being cruel to her on purpose “There is nothing I can give. Nothing I want to give you.” He added when he noted her hurt expression. Then Rowan finally passed her the bag with the books “Now get out of my sight.” Aelin took the bag in silence and left the store. She walked away and left her feet to lead her. She did not notice she was back at the marina. She found a quite spot on the pier and sat down, her feet dangling. And then the tears came. And she cried. And the tears turned into heavy sobs. She took the phone and called Lysandra, but when the woman did not answered she hugged her legs to her chest and dropped her head on the knees as if to try and hold the pieces together. She was tired. And for a moment she just wanted to disappear.

Rowan was fuming. How dare she? She didn’t know anything about his life. How dare she make such a comment? He closed the store and walked quite angrily to his aunt’s coffee shop. She loved to gossip a bit too much and wondered what she had told Aelin. When he reached the shop he was glad it was not busy, that conversation did not need and audience. “Good morning, darling.” Maeve said in a cheery voice, unaware what was about to hit her. “What did you tell her?” His aunt looked at him with a confused expression. “Aelin. The new girl. You told her you are my aunt. What else did you tell her about my miserable life, eh?” “Rowan, suidh sìos.” Her tone had a hint of command. Her face lost the loving and caring side and Rowan knew he was in trouble. So he obeyed her and sat down at the table like she commanded. “I did not tell her anything. I just told her that you are my nephew. I did not know that was a secret.” She was definitely not happy about him. Maeve sat down in front of him “What did you do?” He looked away, shying away from the conversation. Maeve sighed “Rowan, she is going through a tough moment in her life. Be nice to her. Be nice to each other. She seems like a lovely woman. Why don’t give yourself a second chance?” He still did not answer. “She is just as lost as you are. If you only stopped being mad at the world all the time, she might be the person to show you the way back, both of you.” He was stunned by his aunt’s words. It sounded like Aelin and Maeve really had become good friends already and that his aunt already knew a good deal about the woman. But there was no way he was letting anyone else in again. Not after… he pushed the name away. Even after almost a year it still hurt too much to talk about her. No, he was going to live the rest of his life on his own and on his own terms. “Don’t interfere.” He finally managed “It’s my life. I’ll decide what is best for me. And if my destiny is to become a lonely, grumpy old man, so be it.” He gritted his teeth and fisted his hands cooling down his anger. “I know you still hurt because of what Lyria did. But it has been almost a year…” “Don’t…” he hissed “Don’t ever say her name in front of me. Ever again.” “Rowan…” Maeve put a hand on his arm but he pushed her away. Maeve stood and looked at her nephew stone faced “Mrs MacIver asked me if you can order these for her grandson. It’s his birthday quite soon.” And she passed a note to him. “Fine.” He took the note and stood. “Find the way back, my darling.” Maeve said to him once he was at the door. He ignored the comment and left without a reply.

[kpophoneybunny]

Hold Me - NCT Jungwoo x Fem!OC (College AU) One-Shot

Genre: Suspense/Angst/Romance

Rating: I’d say R (violence, description of stalking and assault, strong language, some nudity, suggestive content)

Disclaimer: This is written in the first person but I tried to keep her name and description as vague as possible. The stalker is not any k-idol and is based on someone who stalked me in middle school.

WARNING: Description of violence, death threats, attempted kidnapping, physical assault (she is naked and in a towel but it is not sexual assault although she is forcefully kissed at one point), strong language, nudity, mild (consensual) sexual content. (There is no smut in this one-shot)

A/N: This is based on a nightmare/dream, some real-life experiences, and a few of my deepest fears.

Tag List: @twancingyunhoe @frickyea-guacamole19 (comment to be added or removed from the one-shot tag list).

Word Count: 1518

For months now, I was receiving anonymous notes claiming that the writer was in love with me and that I needed to accept them. It had recently escalated to at least three notes every day. I had received printed pictures of me through the window of my dorm room and notes saying that if I continued to ignore this person, I’d regret it.

I kept it a secret from everyone but my roommate - after all, she lived in the same room as me and was probably in danger too - and a friend who lived off-campus who let me shower over there every night. I didn’t even tell Jungwoo, my best friend since childhood who lived right across the hall from me. He had no idea that anything was even remotely wrong. I didn’t want him to worry about me. Besides, I’d never even seen the stalker’s face.

But, in all honesty, I was terrified. I was even scared to shower at the dorms, fearing that he’d come to watch me or worse. But I didn’t have the time to wait for my roommate before the party so I swallowed the dread and stepped into the communal women’s bathrooms, walking to the showers in the back and setting my things on the bench, slipping behind the curtain and stripping. I washed myself and my hair, about to reach out for my towel when the curtain opened.

There stood a man, looking me over as if he had every right in the world to do so. “I finally have you to myself, princess.”

I screamed, hoping someone would hear me and come help me. I managed to reach past him, grabbing my towel and wrapping it around myself to hide my body. “No! Leave me alone!” I let out another scream as he came closer, clamping his hand over my mouth. His fingers dug into my skin so harshly that I was sure it would bruise.

“Did you honestly think you could just ignore me? Did you really think I wouldn’t make you love me?” He growled, eyes filled with a rage I had never seen before. I whimpered, clutching my towel tightly to keep myself covered. “You’re going to get dressed and come with me, quietly. If you try to signal to anyone that something is wrong, I will kill you. Do you understand?” I nodded, fighting back tears. Would I be one of those girls who went missing and was found months later in a trashbag buried in the woods?

The bathroom door opened. “Hello?” It was Jungwoo. “I heard a scream. Is everything okay?” He was coming closer. I locked eyes with the man who was definitely my stalker and let out a muffled scream, knowing Jungwoo would hear me.

The stranger growled and shoved my head back against the tile wall so harshly that I let out a loud cry, my vision blurring as I struggled to reorient myself. “I said to stay fucking quiet.”

“Get off of her!” Jungwoo grabbed the guy by the arm and pulled him off of me, standing between us protectively. “Get the hell out of here or I’ll call campus security.”

“That’s my girlfriend. Get out of my way.” The guy pushed Jungwoo aside and grabbed me by the arm. I almost dropped my towel but I kept a fierce grip on it so no one would see me naked. That was the last thing I needed right now.

“I’m not!” I tried to wrench my arm free but my stalker grabbed me by the neck and kissed me roughly, obviously trying to deter Jungwoo from interfering any further.

“We’re just having a fight. Don’t mind her.” He was unhinged, deranged. I never knew it would escalate to anything like this. I couldn’t hold back the tears when they came and I sobbed pathetically, hoping Jungwoo would succeed in running the other man off. Physically, they seemed evenly matched. But Jungwoo looked about ready to knock him down and start wailing on him.

“If she had a boyfriend, I’d know about it.” Jungwoo grabbed him by the collar and yanked him away from me. “Get the fuck out.” He shoved him towards the door. “OUT!” Jungwoo pushed the man out into the hall. “If I ever see you again, I’ll call the police and have you arrested!”

I sank onto the floor of the shower, holding my towel tighter as my chest heaved. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think. My head felt heavy and my thoughts were static. It was as if my brain had been ripped out of my skull and replaced with stones.

“Are you alright? He didn’t… hurt you. Did he?”

“No. And… no.” I wiped at my tears, trying to cover myself even more. I didn’t want to flash Jungwoo. Especially not after what I had just experienced.

“Here.” He handed me my bag of clothes. “I’ll go stand by the door to give you privacy and keep other people out.” Jungwoo bit his lip and walked away. I checked to make sure he wasn’t looking in the direction of the showers, drying off and putting on the jeans and t-shirt I had brought to change into. I stepped out, my towel folded over my arm, and walked over to him silently. He looked my face over carefully and gave a slight frown. “Who was that guy? He didn’t look familiar.”

“He’s… been sending me love notes every day, multiple times a day. They’ve been getting more threatening and he’s taken pictures of me through my windows and-“ I fell apart again, feeling ridiculous for hiding something so serious and crying like a baby in front of him. “I think he wanted to kidnap me or-or-”

“Hey…” he hesitated. “Can I hold you?” I nodded and he took me into his arms, smoothing a hand over my wet hair. “You’re safe now, okay? I’ll tell the RAs and all the guys in the building and we’ll keep an eye out for you.”

“No. You don’t have to do that. That’s too much…”

“No, it’s not. It’s the least I can do for you if this guy is really such a threat, you know?” He kissed my forehead gently. “Do you still wanna go to that party?”

“No. I think I’ll just stay in tonight.” I stepped out into the hall and he followed behind me.

“Can I stay with you? Just to make sure you’re okay? We can watch a movie or something.” He took my hand in his to make me look at him. His brows were knitted together but his eyes were soft. His other hand was rubbing the back of his neck as he looked me over. “I just need to know you’re safe.”

“Yeah. That’d be really nice, actually.” I took him into my dorm room and sat on my bed, hugging my knees to my chest. He sat next to me and turned on the TV, not making a move to touch me. He was probably afraid to set me off. But I needed to be held and reassured so I leaned into his shoulder, sniffling as he browsed the channels. He wrapped his arm around me to tug me closer. “Thank you.”

“For what?” He tilted his head curiously.

“For saving my life.” We locked eyes and he gave my forehead another gentle kiss.

“I didn’t want to lose you. I was so afraid and I knew that if I didn’t do anything…” He trailed off. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Jungwoo.”

“No. I love you. I’m in love with you.”

“Oh.” My breath caught and I searched his face for any sign of joking around or lying. But he was entirely serious.

“I didn’t really accept it until I saw that guy grabbing you like that and manhandling you and I-I lost it. I was so mad. All I could think of was punching his lights out and keeping you safe.” We weren’t paying attention to the television anymore, staring at each other. I wasn’t even sure what we had on the screen. I tugged him into a gentle kiss.

“I love you too.” Our lips parted as I mumbled out my response but they quickly reunited once he processed what I had said. He cupped my cheek and I winced, pulling away slightly.

“Oh my god, you’re bruising. He hurt you…” Jungwoo’s fingers gently brushed over my face. “Your neck too.” His voice wavered.

“Jungwoo,” I let my lips graze his ever so slightly, “kiss it better?” His eyes widened and he glanced at my neck nervously. “Everywhere he touched me… kiss me. Please?”

“Is this how you really want that to happen?” He asked, tilting his head.

“Yes. Distract me, kiss me, touch me. Anything.” I begged, bringing my lips fully against his.

“Alright. Stop me at any time.” He whispered, laying me on my back as he began to kiss my lips, my cheek, my neck. I completely forgot about my stalker that night, every inch of me focused on every inch of Jungwoo.

[bwemph]

Secrets

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Request: @cherrykarts Could I get a Peter Parker x shy reader where Pete breaks things off bc he doesn’t want to see her hurt, but when he goes to the avengers tower it turns out she’s an avenger and she’s crying and stuff with Wanda and fluffy happy end? Idk

Word count: 2,400

Summary: After breaking up with Peter, you go to Wanda for comfort. When Peter shows up at the Compound unexpectedly, it turns out you both have secrets to share.

Warnings: Mild angst, light swearing, Peter being an absolute dork :)

A/N: This is a fic from my old blog Purpleocity. All future fics will be posted here at bwemph :)

“I just…I don’t think this is going to work.”

Your heart dropped, tears already threatening to spill over. Your brows furrowed. Why was Peter being like this? You two had been together for six months now. What changed? Everything was fine until just recently. He got that “Stark Internship” and he started acting all strange, now he’s breaking up with you out of nowhere? It just didn’t make sense.

“Peter, what do you mean ‘this isn’t going to work’?” Your voice shook a little as your crossed your arms. You leaned back against his wall, sinking a little further into his mattress. Your thoughts raced back through everything you could have done wrong, but it was all little stuff. Things that shouldn’t have mattered. You thought everything was going fine between the two of you.

“It’s just…It’s really complicated.” He reached out to you in order to take your hand, but you pulled it away, your vision blurring with tears. You bit your lip to keep back the sob that hitched your breath.

You shook your head. “’It’s complicated’? What’s gotten into you?” You asked as you stood up. He stood to meet you. “You’ve been acting so weird lately. You’re always disappearing. And you’ve been at least ten minutes late to almost every single one of our dates in the last month!” He opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off. “Just the other day I came over after school like you asked me to and you weren’t even here. Aunt May said she didn’t know where you were either. What, is there someone else? Are you…” You faltered a little, your heart dropping even further. You didn’t even want to say it for fear of the answer being yes, “…are you cheating on me?”

“Y/n, please just let me explain.” He took your hand again. You shirked away as he tried to hug you. You turned away, watching his reflection in the mirror with stone cold eyes. Your phone buzzed, and you glanced down.

Tony Stark: We’ve got a situation. Get here as soon as you can.

You cursed under your breath, looking back up at Peter. “I have to go.” You pushed past him.

“Wha- Y/n, please,” he practically begged, reluctantly letting go of your hand as you crossed the room to open his door. “Don’t go.”

“I gotta. I’ll–I’ll see you at school.”

You closed his door behind yourself a little harder than you’d intended, lowering your head as you made for the apartment door.

“You’re not staying for dinner?” May asked as she looked up from a mixing bowl. “I’m making your favorite cookies for desert.” She nodded toward the cookies in the oven. They almost tempted you.

You sniffed, quickly drying a few rebellious tears before turning to her. “I, uh, I have to be somewhere. Thanks, though. Maybe another time.” You mustered a smile and picked up your backpack, slipping your shoes on.

“Is everything okay?”

You sighed. “Probably not, but don’t worry about it. It’ll be alright. See ya, May.” With a wave, you left before she could further question you. You made for the Compound as quick as you could, though you had some down time in the back of the car before you got there. You allowed a few silent tears to fall, holding back the real deal for later as not to make things awkward for the chauffeur. You scrolled through your pictures on your phone, still unable to wrap your head around the situation. You half hoped this was maybe just a bad dream. You dried with your hoodie sleeve another tear that dropped onto your phone screen.

When you arrived, Tony was already standing outside to meet you. He walked you inside. “Well, I needed you in the moment,” he explained, “but we got it handled before you showed up.”

You shrugged one shoulder, putting a hand in your pocket. “Sorry. I got here as quick as I could.”

He clapped you on the back for reassurance. “Don’t worry about it, kid.” He paused, removing his glasses and moving to stand in front of you. “You okay?” His hand remained on your shoulder.

You forgot you’d worn mascara that day, which was probably smeared and streaking your face at this point. You sighed, shrugging. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just boy trouble.”

Tony gave a sympathetic look. “Boys are literally the scum of the earth.” He took a moment to snarl at the thought of whoever had hurt you. “Whoever he is, he’s a douchebag. Let me know if I have to hit him.”

You laughed softly. “Thanks, Mr. Stark.” He winked in response. You sniffled again. “Is Wanda here?”

Tony nodded. “Up in her room.”

You wasted no time as you hurried up to her room.You weren’t sure how much longer any more tears could remain unshed.

You hovered in her doorway, making sure she was alone. She sat on her bed, plucking her guitar. She hummed a soft melody and took notes on whatever little riff she just made up. Her eyes lit up when she looked up and saw you. She set the guitar back in its stand and ran to hug you.

“Y/n! What are you doing here?” She pulled away and her smile vanished in an instant. “What’s wrong?” She touched your arm in an attempt to comfort whatever was bothering you.

“Do you have any makeup remover?” you asked, breathing a laugh as you assumed you were a mess. You glanced down at your phone when it vibrated, but you ignored it.

“Yeah, yeah, come here.” She led you to the bathroom and handed you a container of makeup wipes. You looked in the mirror, somewhat amused despite your broken heart. You started with your eyes. “What happened?” Wanda asked, hovering close to your side.

You removed the makeup from your other eye before answering. “Peter broke up with me.” You choked up, biting your lips. You didn’t want to cry again. He’s just a stupid boy. Why did it matter?

He wasn’t just a stupid boy, that’s why it mattered; this was Peter.

Wanda gasped, pulling you into a hug as your tears started flowing again. “Why? What happened?”

You hid your face, your voice muffled by her red sweater, which was now gaining dark splotched from yourr tears. “I think he was cheating on me.”

She gave a hum of disapproval, leading you to sit down on her bed. You proceeded to explain everything that pointed toward his disloyalty: his weird absences, being late or sometimes not showing up at all to dates or when you were supposed to hang out, and how weird he’d act when you asked where he was. You shouldn’t have let it go so easily. You knew something was up and shouldn’t have ignored it. She listened to you vent for the next while, comforting you where she saw fit.

- - -

“Peter, dinner is ready,” May called softly as she poked her head into Peter’s room. He looked up from his phone, sending you numerous text messages. You didn’t reply to any of them. “Is everything okay? Y/n looked upset when she left.”

Peter dropped his head again, letting his phone fall onto his bed. “Uh, no, not really.”

“Why don’t you come talk about it over dinner, then?” May offered, gesturing for him to follow her. They sat at the table together. Peter explained what was up, poking at his spaghetti absentmindedly, but eating very little.

He wanted to protect you. Now that he was Spiderman, everyone he knew and loved would be in danger. He wanted to keep you safe most of all. He cared about you so much, and he regretted every time he had to take a raincheck or be late to see you. He always wanted to be around you, but saving the world would make that hard. Villains kidnapping or killing you would make that even harder, so he decided to break things off in order to keep you safe.

“I understand why you did that, but there’s plenty of other things you could do to protect her. You didn’t have to break up with her,” May said, reaching across the table to touch his hand. “Are you going to eat?

He sighed and shook his, the corners of his mouth being tugged down. “I screwed it up now. I don’t think I can get her back.”

Before May could say anything, Peter heard his special ringtone he had set for Happy. His eyes widened and he stood and scrambled to his room.

“Hello? Hi, yeah. It’s Peter.”

“You’re late for your training session, Peter. I’ve been out here for twenty minutes!” Happy snapped over the line.

A hand went to his forehead and he rushed to grab his things. “Shit! I’m so sorry, Happy. I’ll be out in a minute.” He rushed to throw the rest of his things he needed into his backpack and swiped a handful of cookies from the jar as he rushed out the door. “Sorry, Aunt May,” he mumbled around his mouthful of cookie. “I had to be at the Compound like a half hour ago! Bye, love you!”

He rushed out to the car where Happy stood, his arms crossed and a glare set deep in his features. Peter got in and said nothing on the way to the compound. Happy didn’t ask. In fact, he reveled in the fact that Peter shut up for once.

- - -

Sweaty and exhausted, Peter left the training room. The personal trainer worked him harder than usual today, probably because he was late. He stumbled out of the training room and into the common area, chugging a glass of water.

“Peter?” you said, eyes wide. He startled, fumbling with the glass. “What the hell are you doing here?” You dropped the apple slice you were holding into the bowl of caramel as you stood. Wanda eyed both of you, looking very confused.

“Wait a minute, that’s Peter?” she said with her brow furrowed.

“You two know each other?” Peter asked, pointing between the two of you.

You put your hands on your hips. “I asked my question first.” Your voice was a little too calm to be okay with the current situation. He crossed to meet you, rubbing his hands together nervously.

“Well, uh…” He glanced between the two of you. “I’m kinda an Avenger?”

You furrowed your brow. “Why didn’t you tell me?” You threw your hands in the air with exasperation.

He stuttered as he gestured between you and Wanda. “Well why didn’t you tell me?” he asked you, equally as irritated. “It’s what I was going to tell you! I’m freaking Spiderman!”

You were taken aback, and you hugged yourself, unsure what to think. A thousand thoughts raced through your mind. Peter was the Spiderman? Since when? You thought he’d just been working out, not suddenly training as a superhero! You looked to Wanda, who seemed about as confused as you were. “Well then I guess we have to work on our communication skills…” you said eventually, your tension easing.

Peter laughed a little. “Yeah…” he sighed and reached out to take your hand. “Look, I know I probably screwed up any chance I had with you, but am I allowed to take back what I said before? I didn’t really mean it when I said things weren’t working out…I lied. Sorry.”

Your shoulders relaxed further. You felt a little embarrassed. “Well I haven’t exactly been honest with you either.”

Peter laughed a little, stroking your knuckles with his thumb. “It’s okay. Since we’re telling each other our darkest secrets right now, can I tell you something else?”

“Hit me.”

He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “Things were actually going better than great…yknow, with us. They’re amazing. And like, you’re amazing. And I’m so sorry I’m always late and disappearing and I’m sorry I’m such an idiot.” He looked at his feet for a bit, shame curving his features into a bit of a pout. He glanced back up at you, his puppy dog eyes begging for forgiveness already. “But like, I really love spending time with you and Aunt May loves you and I…” he faltered again, “I love you, yknow?”

You smiled, taking his other hand. “I’m an idiot too, so it’s okay. And,” you stood closer to him, “I love you too.” You leaned in to kiss him, but Wanda cleared her throat, reminding you of her presence. You pursed your lips, your face warming a little with embarrassment.

She picked up the tray of caramel and apples. “I’ll just put these away,” she said, hurrying to put them away and leaving you two alone.

“I’m all sweaty and gross. Sorry.” Peter said before you silenced him with a kiss. It didn’t stop you from pulling him close.

When you broke away, you murmured, “It doesn’t bother me.” You ran a hand down his arm, entwining your fingers again, but remaining close. “Stop apologizing. It’s really okay,” you giggled.

“Sorry–Er, I mean…” He laughed, pecking another kiss to your lips. He smiled brightly, startling a little as Tony entered the room. It seemed that everyone needed to know now.

He froze, his glasses coming off again. “Wait, this is the douchebag?” he asked, unsure he was actually seeing the two of you together like this. “And why are you smooching him? I thought he was giving you trouble?” He pointed at you. “Were you giving her trouble, Parker?”

“No, Mr. Stark,” Peter assured. “It was a misunderstanding. I think we’re good now.” He looked back at you, and you nodded in agreement. You tried to contain your smile.

He squinted, turning with a shrug and going the other way, dropping whatever his previous task was.

“Wanna go get ice cream?” you asked.

Peter smiled. “I like the sound of that. But can I take a shower first?”

You nodded. “You do that, Spidey.”

He dropped his head with a laugh. “That’s cute.”

“What? Spidey?”

“Heh, yeah.”

[borealis-strange]

Chapter 2: The Lake

Summary:

Regina finally decides to travel on her own (accompanied by Freddie)

Notes:

Sorry, this took so long to post. Hopefully the next chapter will be out soon.

A detail I forgot to mention is that this story is heavily based on Minecraft, so there might be a lot of references to that game. And a funny fact is that the idea came to me while I was watching a Minecraft series I really like (It's not the DreamSMP, it's Elitecraft) and there will be more references to that.

Tag-list:  Tagging some people that might be interested in this: @freesiafields @bambirexwrites @whitequeen-ofwillowgreen @vaeya @sirenlovesqueen @moreofthatqueen

If someone wants to be added or removed from the tag-list just tell me :}

During the following days Regina did not do too many things, Franco insisted that he felt bad and could not go out in those conditions. Regina didn't complain too much; she continued to practice on her own and occasionally helped Sarinha in the tavern.

Finally the day she had been waiting for so much arrived, the day where she would go out on her own (accompanied by Freddie).

She got ready as usual and ate something before leaving.

—Bye, guys — Regina said as she headed for the exit.

— Hey, hey, hey — Franco interrupted — Where do you think you're going? -

— I'm going to The Wedding Veil with some friends —  Regina replied with a smile

— With whose permission? — Franco questioned.

—  With my permission —  Regina said with a smile and left before Franco could say anything else.

Franco sighed heavily.

—  What am I going to do with this girl? — Franco asked

—  You should be glad. She has finally made friends —  Sarinha commented who came out of the kitchen.

—  So what? —  Franco said annoyed —  she will get into trouble if she goes out like this, without me taking care of her—

Sarinha gave him a sympathetic smile and sat down across from him.

— You must understand that the girl is growing up —  Sarinha said - she must also go out and fight to learn. Someday she will be like you -

Franco sighed heavily.

— I hope she is never like me — 

________________

Freddie said we would meet at the Step of the king  turnoff, it was a middle ground for both of us.

In the distance I saw Freddie along with a girl. I ran a bit to catch up with them. It didn't seem like they had been waiting long

— Hello girls! — I greeted them with great emotion when I got to their side — Are you ready? —

— Hi regina! — Freddie greeted. She looked me up and down somewhat confused — You came… in armor? — Freddie asked

— Yes of course! — I said with pride — We come to have a great adventure. —

— Actually ... We had planned to just eat by the lake and maybe explore the surroundings a bit — Freddie said a bit embarrassed.

Until that moment I had not noticed the basket that Freddie was carrying, probably full of food. I hadn't brought anything. Has Freddie told me something about this? No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't remember.

— Oh. Okay, later we can… do something like that — I said nervously.

— Okay ... This is Jane. She will accompany us —

— Nice to meet you — I greeted her shyly.

— Well, we better go. We don't want to be late —

The journey was silent, a bigger one than I would have liked.

After almost an hour of walking we finally arrived.

It was the first time I had come to The Wedding Veil, and I had to say that they were as beautiful as everyone said. The falls did not measure more than 20 meters but that did not take away from the impressiveness.

The place was surrounded by huge trees that slightly blocked the passage of light. There were flowers of all colors and little luminescent mushrooms; plus a few tables where there were already a few people having their own picnics.

Freddie led us through the woods until we found a quiet place near the lake. I understood that this was the largest lake, at least in Farfania.

This part of the waterfalls was quieter, being a little further away, the noise of the water was not going to bother us so much, in addition to that it was no longer so full of trees, letting the light pass a little more.

When we found the perfect spot, the girls started putting together the little picnic. I wanted to help with something, but Freddie insisted that I was like her guest and it wasn’t necessary that I did something.

Once they finished, we all sat down and Freddie began to distribute the plates to start eating.

All kinds of foods came in Freddie's basket: an egg tart, meat patties, and a few milk candies. A real feast.

— Did you cook this by yourself? — I asked while taking one of the milk candies.

— No, no, no. Jane helped me a lot. We cooked it together last night — Freddie said as he hugged Jane — I hope you like it —

— The truth is, I even feel bad eating your food — I confessed — You did all this and I didn't bring anything —

— Don't worry darling — Freddie said making a gesture with his hand — It's something I enjoy —

I took a bite of the candy, it was glorious, one of the best I had ever had.

— Then, next time I invite you to have a drink at the tavern —

— I think it's excellent — Freddie said with a smile.

We ate in tranquility, enjoying the atmosphere. I had to say that the food was delicious, the best I had had since I arrived in Step of the King (forgive me Sarinha)

After eating, Freddie took out a board game that was in the basket.

It was the army game, a strategy game. I haven't played it in years, at least since I left The Shelter.

Even though I was a bit rusty I managed to win a few games against Freddie. Although Jane showed superiority to us, managing to win all the games that she played.

After a few games, Freddie and Jane talked about a million topics, I was not contributing anything and I was not even paying attention.

The girls were trying to get me to add something to the conversation,, they would ask me things and stuff but I just couldn't focus.

My mind was on the lake and the mysteries that it could have. Probably not many. The only thing I knew was that there was a small community of mermaids there, I doubted there was a treasure or something, like in The Shelter. My uncle told me how in his youth he revealed a thousand and one secrets, not only about The Shelter, but also about the Empire.

I don't know how long I lasted like this, pulling grass and flowers. Until I came up with something to make this all more fun.

— Hey — I caught the attention of the girls — A few races across the lake? —

Without even waiting for something to be said to me, I got up off the ground and started running towards the lake.

Freddie grabbed me by the collar of the armor, preventing me from continuing, and pulled me to stand next to her.

— You cannot just walk on the water — She said in a serious tone — It is a dangerous lake, besides that mermaids do not like to pass through their home—

— Of course I can walk on water — I said contemptuously, ignoring the second warning — A few days ago I got the Ice Walker spell for my boots — I said while pointing at them — I'm not in any danger — I said puffing up my chest with pride.

— Even so, I don't think it's a good idea — She said with concern — Another day we'll go somewhere where we can swim —

Freddie turned around and started walking over to where the picnic was.

I did not move. I continued to appreciate the lake, as it reflected the rays of the Sun. I took some stone and threw it against the lake, I saw how it took a few jumps before sinking.

The lake couldn't be that dangerous, deep perhaps but not dangerous. I turned and saw that Freddie had already gone back to where things were. I saw the lake again, it was tempting. A few steps wouldn't hurt anyone, right? They would only be to prove that the enchantment on the boots worked and nothing else.

Noticing that Freddie wasn't paying attention to me, I walked over to the lake. I took a step in the water and waited for my foot to get wet but that didn't happen.

A small platform of ice had formed where I had stepped. I took another step and the same thing happened.

It worked perfectly! A few more steps wouldn't be bad.

I continued taking steps without paying attention to where I was going, just looking at my feet. It was fascinating, it was the best 20 gold coins invested in the armor.

— Regina! — Freddie shouted from the coast — Come back, something will happen to you!—

— Did you see? — I yelled turning around to see her — The boots work! —

— Very well! But please come back! You are going to hurt yourself! — Freddie kept shouting

— Of course not! — I exclaimed — I have to see if they work perfectly well! —

— Then we go to another lake but come back! —

She looked worried. I wanted to keep walking and see how far he could go with his boots but I didn't want to cause Freddie any more trouble.

With a sigh, I started to walk back but something had caught my foot. It was an algae. I shook my foot to shake it off but it seemed to hold on tighter.

— Regina? - It was the last I heard before the algae dragged me to the bottom of the lake

Oh gods, oh gods. I tried to swim to the surface but it was useless. The algae began to wrap around me, preventing me from moving.

I struggled in an attempt to free myself from the algae, but the more I moved the more they squeezed me.

My heart was beating faster and faster

My lungs ached and everything around me became blurry. The last thing I could make out was a figure approaching me.

Someone dragged me to the surface where I could finally breathe. I never believed that breathing felt so good.

The girl left me on the ground, and I watched her walk away and return to the lake.

I lay down on the ground again and in the distance I heard Freddie shouting my name.

— Regina? Regina are you okay? — Freddie said when he came to my side — Regina talk to me — Freddie whimpered as she shook my arm.

— I'm good. Just let me rest — I tried to pull my arm away from hwe.

— I told you not to go in — She did not sound angry, but rather ... worried — Then we do whatever you want but please don't do that again -

She started saying other things to me that I didn't pay attention to, I just stayed on the floor trying to breathe normally.

— I think it is better that you return to your house — Suggested Freddie — So that you can rest from all this -

— Yes, that's fine —

Freddie helped me up. He said something to Jane that I couldn't hear before accompanying me to Stone Pig.

__________________

Fortunately, we found someone who offered to take us in his wagon. I greatly appreciated it.

After about an hour of travel, I finally reached Step of the king where Freddie made sure that I would get to the tavern safely before flying back to her house.

Although the sun had not yet set, the tavern was already beginning to fill up.

I had the intention of going to my room to get some sleep but Franco intervened.

— Why are you soaked? — Franco asked.

— I fell into the lake — Franco looked at me confused — A strange plant dragged me to the bottom of the lake and I almost drowned but a girl saved me —

Franco rubbed his temples in frustration.

— That's why I don't want you to go out alone, things like that can happen to you. What if that girl wasn't there! You would have drowned —

— Pfft ... It's not that bad — I said trying to downplay it, but I had already ignited Franco's anger.

— It's not that bad? It's not that bad! — Franco yelled, calling the attention of other people— You are also a princess — Franco reminded me. I rolled my eyes — I can't let something happen to you. What am I going to tell King Silithur? That his beloved niece drowned because the little girl was not careful? —

For something I had left The Shelter. To stop being treated like a little girl who can't do anything on his own.

— You are a terrible teacher — I mumbled.

— What did you say? —

— I said you are a terrible teacher — I repeated with disdain.

Franco glared at me

— What kind of teacher won't let me train elsewhere? I've only been faced with holograms made of magic. What will happen when I go to the real world? —

— You shouldn't worry about that —

— Well, I should be worried. At some point it will be my job and I won't know what to do. Because instead of traveling I spent it sitting in a tavern doing nothing —

I didn't let Franco speak.

I immediately got up from my seat and went up to my room.

Who did he think he was? More and more my patience was being filled with his silly rules and worries. On one side I appreciated his concern, but on the other, it seemed that he believed I was just a little princess who left home on a whim. I know what I want and I don't need anyone to tell me what to do.

__________

The next morning, I decided to return to The Wedding Veil as a kind of "protest." Franco had to understand that I could take care of myself without needing his help. (Though I doubt he could do much)

I went downstairs, ready for the day.

— Can I have some of the buns? — I asked Sarinha as soon as I saw her.

— Yes of course —

I took one of the baskets and started filling it with the buns.

— Why do you need so many? —

— They are ... for someone —

Sarinha seemed unconvinced but she didn't say anything else.

— Where are you going? — Franco asked when I passed by his side.

I didn't answer and left the tavern. I always wondered how Franco got up earlier than me.

I headed straight for The Wedding Veil, hoping to meet up with the girl from the day before. I didn't even have time to thank her.

I got there faster than the day before and went to where I had eaten with the girls.

— Hello? — I yelled at the lake.

This is very silly, I should have thought better of this. I didn't even know her name, what was I going to say to her? "Hi, I'm the girl who almost drowned yesterday." How stupid.

I sat down heavily on the dirt and set the basket aside.

Surprisingly, the girl poked her face out of the water a few seconds later. I couldn't help but smile a little.

— Hello — I greeted her shyly.

The girl did not move or say anything, only she continued to observe me.

— I'm Regina. The girl from yesterday. —

The girl seemed to get a little closer.

— I came because ... I wanted to thank you for saving me yesterday — I said hesitating with my words. — And well ... I brought something to eat. I hope you like it —

I sat down on the wooden boards and opened the basket.

I watched as the girl approached until she reached the dock and sat next to me. Even though the girl had wet hair, they still defined her curly hair, mermaid magic I guess.

— What is your name? - I asked to break the silence.

— Brianna — The girl said in a low voice.

—It's a nice name — I said with a smile.

— Thanks —

Brianna took one the buns and looked at it doubtfully.

— They're made of chocolate — She said with a smile — I thought ... you might like —

Brianna took a small bite and for a moment I saw her eyes light up.

— They are delicious — Brianna said, her voice was sweet and calm — Did you make them? —

— No… no. They were made by Sarinha, the owner of The Stone Pig. You should go someday—

Brianna gave a little laugh.

—Maybe one day I will — she said with a smile. I couldn't help blushing a bit — I've heard of that place —

— Really? — The girl lived in the water, how did she find out?

Brianna nodded slightly.

— I've heard some travelers. I just know it's the closest hostel from here —

We spent a few minutes talking and eating, and apparently we had quite a lot in common. She also wanted to explore the Empire and study the stars, the only difference was that she did not travel out of fear. The Empire was huge and there could be people with bad intentions, but I guess it's a risk to take.

I thought about telling her to travel together but I didn't, it would be a strange thing when we had barely met.

I decided to spend the rest of the day in this place.

Brianna showed me some “secret” areas of the forest, mostly very rare plants.

She showed me some giant mushrooms where some nano dragons used as homes, although unfortunately we couldn't see any clearly.

We also saw some small flowers that were similar to dandelions, only the petals were purple. Brianna said she called them "Timids". They were beautiful but when I tried to touch them the petals contracted against the stem.

When the sun began to set, I decided it was time to go home, I didn't want to walk in the woods in the dark.

I arrived in town just when the first lights of the businesses began to turn on.

I entered the tavern and headed straight to the kitchen, to steal some food before I went to sleep.

As I passed Franco's table, I heard that he called me. I let out a long sigh but didn't go with him.

— Regina — Franco tried to get my attention once more.

The truth is, I didn't want Franco to ruin my good mood besides that I was tired and needed to eat something. He called me again. A little resigned, I sat down in front of him.

—I've been thinking about what you told me yesterday— Franco said calmly, I would even say that he felt sorry — And I think you're right —

I never thought I would listen to Franco admit that he was wrong.

— I did not train you as I should have done and I think you are ready to go out into the real world —

-— Seriously? — I asked puzzled.

— Yes... But I'll go with you. You are still under my care, plus I miss those old days when I was going all over the empire with my friends. —

I opened my mouth to say something but the words did not come from me. Franco couldn't be serious, it must have been some kind of joke. But the seriousness on his face told me it was true.

— You're not serious — I said amused.

— I tell you with all the seriousness in the world — Franco said with a small smile.

I had to restrain myself from screaming right there. Oh gods, oh gods. I'd finally get out of Step of the king! Finally I would know other places or explore ancient temples. Although you shouldn't have high hopes. Most likely we were only going on a day trip. But you start with something, then I could convince him to go elsewhere.

— What do you think if tomorrow we travel to Tree city? — Franco suggested.

Tree city? It was in Illusia, at least a couple of days' walk away. And if we traveled by train, it was only 6 hours but the only train that could leave us in Tree city was in Paladium.

— Isn't it a bit far to go in a day? —

— Who said we will travel in one day? We will do it the old-fashioned way. With a trip of several days by road. I thought we could make several stops in different places — Franco said with a sly smile — Even visit Paladium city —

Oh gods, oh gods. This was better than I had thought. This would be fantastic!

Tree city! That would take us days to arrive. We will travel throughout Farfania to reach Illusia. This would be great! And maybe later we could go to The Shelter. Oh gods. I couldn't wait for tomorrow!

[fairyartlover-writes]

Fanfic: I’ve never seen such Perfection

Hello! Long time no see. Forgive me for that. I’ve already posted this on AO3 but i forgot to post it here...Oops, sorry. I’m afraid i have to say this isn’t a Loki fic (i know, shocking) but in fact, this a Phantom of the Opera fic, more specifically the 1990 series version with Charles Dance. To those who’ve seen the series, THAT scene made me absolutely furious and i wanted to cry at the injustice at poor Erik. So, of course, i re-wrote it. FWI, this starts quite abruptly because i was just so mad and i had to fix it, but i kinda like it. Let me know what you think

To those who have stuck around through that very large introduction, thank you. I hope you enjoy!

Fandom: Phantom of the Opera (1990)

Pairings: Christine Daae/Phantom-Erik

Summary: Re-write of the picnic scene in the POTO 1990 series starring Charles Dance

Raiting: Teen and up (to be safe)

Words: 2,950

“Let me look at your face” He stilled, tense. Christine held her hands tightly in her lap, wanting to touch him and erase his fear but knowing it would only frighten him further. He slowly lowered his arms and looked at her, pained.

“I’m afraid you’ve asked the one thing I cannot give you. Please don’t ask again” He looked away and avoided her gaze, taking the food out of the basket at a much quicker pace. He hurt as he said those words but tried to hide it from her. She, of course, saw through it. She hated to be the cause of his pain, but she told herself she had a reason for doing so. She wanted now more than ever to reach out, but again, she held herself.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I thought I wasn’t capable of handling it. I have seen your heart; I have seen your eyes. Why should your face matter after all the good I’ve seen?”

“If it does not matter why ask me to take my mask off?” He said angrily. He still avoided her gaze, even as she searched for his. His hands had balled into fists by his side, knuckles white. She placed her hand in the middle of the picnic blanket, trying to bridge the immense gap that she’d created

“Because I want the last barrier gone between us.” His posture melted from anger to shame. Christine moved closer, trying to do something, anything, to erase his shame, for he should not feel any but stopped when he grew tense. She continued talking, trying to make him see. “You know all my secrets, the shameful and the joyous ones. You have seen me at my best and at my worst and have stayed through it all. You have helped me in every way possible. Maestro, please, let me do the same for you.” He stayed quiet, still as stone, but his breaths were shallow as if he could not breath. She breached the last inches that separated them and placed her hand on top of his. His head shot up and the look in his eyes broke her heart. He was ashamed, scared, terrified, but the hope in his eyes shone through it all. She squeezed his hand and smiled at him, as reassuringly as she could. The quiet seemed to go on for minutes until he spoke, barely above a whisper.

“It is not a face, it is hardly a semblance of a face. I cannot bare to burden you to such a thing.” Christine couldn’t help the tears that came to her eyes. This man, this wonderful, beautiful, broken man. How she wished to hold him and keep every bad thing away from him. How she wished to make every insecurity and dark thought disappear. Instead, she held his hand in both of hers and brought it to her lips. Even held within her hands, his still dwarfed hers. He gasped, astonished, as she gave a gentle kiss to each of his fingertips. She passed her thumb over the back of his hand and ran her finger over each callus, trying to memorize every detail that she could. His breathing become ragged and she looked up to meet his eyes. Tears were swimming in them and an emotion she couldn’t identify mixed in with the tears. Slowly, she brought his hand to her cheek and closed her eyes at its warmth. A choked gasp came from him, but his hand immediately cupped her face and his thumb hesitantly stroked her cheek.

“Do you know how I know I will not be repulsed by your face?” She asked him. She did not wait for an answer. “Because it belongs to you. As much as your hands, that teach so patiently and hold me so gently.” She nuzzled into his hand before opening her eyes and grabbing the other one and bringing it to the opposite side of her face. She met his gaze and smiled. “Because in that face are the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen, eyes that captivate me and always make me smile. Eyes that hold so much warmth and so much passion” Both his thumbs were gently passing over her cheeks, his touch as light as a butterfly’s. “Because that face belongs to the best man I have ever known. A man who saw me, a woman with nothing to offer and still decided to help her, expecting nothing in return. A man so gentle, so passionate, so loving that I cannot do anything but love him, all of him” Tear streamed down both their faces. She smiled at him, willing him to see the truth in her words. To the see the love she had for him and knowing that nothing will ever change that.

“Christine…” He choked. His eyes held a storm of emotions, each one passing too quickly for her to identify, but she saw clearly that he held so much hope for her words to be true, but everything in him telling him to ignore what was said and run. She did the only thing she could.

“Erik, I love you. Please let me love all of you.” Christine grasped at his hands that still cupped her face, her eyes never straying from his.

He was in turmoil. Every experience he had had with showing his face only ended in disaster. He did not want this to end in disaster. How he wanted the words to be true, how he hoped. Seeing her determination and her love for him clearly in her eyes made the air escape his lungs. How could such an angel love a monster like him? But the love was there in her eyes, clear for anyone to see. He passed his thumbs one last time over her cheeks before removing his hands from the sides of her face.

Christine slowly let go of him, prolonging their touch, not wanting to break the contact. She held her hands over her heart, willing for it not to run out of her chest. Erik looked down, again avoiding her gaze, and began untying the knot at the back of his head. His other hand kept the mask in place and when the knot was untied, he hesitated. Christine was patient, not hurrying him, knowing that that would do no good. He slowly took the mask off his face and closed his eyes. He didn’t dare lift his head and show Christine the horror of his face. He did not want to hear her screams, he did not want her to look at him in disgust or, worse, fear. He never wanted her to fear him. Willing himself to get on with it and without opening his eyes, he lifted his head

For a few moments there was silence, which terrified him more than he thought possible. There were no expected screams, cries of horror or the sound of Christine running away. There was only quiet, which was worse than all the screams he’d endured. His hands began to shake but then the most unexpected thing happened. Gentle, small hands, hands that could belong to no other, held his face and erased the tears that he didn’t know were running down his cheeks. His eyes snapped open in surprise. Christine was in front of him, smiling. She was smiling and touching his face. Without fear or disgust. He desperately held on to the hands that touched his face with so much kindness and love.

“Hello there Erik.” She had tears in her eyes but did not let them fall. She rubbed her thumb over his cheeks, in much the same way he did. Tears streamed steadily down his face and no matter how much she tried, some fell onto the blanket they were still sitting on. The utter relief and awe that flooded his face was reassuring as it was heart breaking. How many people had run away from him? How many times had people screamed at the sight of his face? How many times had it happened for him to think it was the expected outcome? Without thinking twice about her actions, she pressed small, butterfly light kisses all over his face, which only made more tears come.

“Does it hurt?” She asked quietly, afraid to break the spell around them, her forehead resting lightly on his. He shook his head and she pressed one last kiss on his brow. She wasn’t surprised when he fell into her arms and buried his face into her neck, silent tears hitting her bare shoulder. She knew she shouldn’t let any man be this close to her or to be touching her in such a way, but this was her Maestro, her Erik, and she would do anything she could to bring him comfort. She passed her hand through his hair, feeling its softness against her fingers, happy she finally knew how it felt after all the time she dreamt about it. They stayed like that for quite some time, picnic forgotten.

“How?” He whispered, his voice cracking on the one simple word, never taking his face from her neck, not daring to look at her face for fear she would push him away and scream in delayed horror.

“How what?” She said confused, just as quietly as him.

“How could you look at my face and not run away? Hold me like you do and not scream or be disgusted? Even Gerard cannot bare it.” Christine heart broke for Erik. How could someone live the way he did and continue to be kind? How could someone be so cruel and heartless to the man most deserving of love she had ever met? She hugged him closer, willing all his tears to go away and all the broken pieces to mend together by the sheer force of her embrace.

“Because it’s yours. Because that face it’s attached to your mesmerizing eyes, to your warm and gentle hands, to your voice that always makes me feel at home, to your lips that I always wondered what would feel like against mine.” She felt him gasp against her skin and his hands tightening against the fabric on her back. “I am not repulsed by your face because it is yours. And you are beautiful, face and all.”

“Do not say such preposterous things Christine” He tensed in her arms. How could a voice sound so angry and yet so sad?

“What have I said that is preposterous? All the words I’ve said are said in truth” He abruptly left her arms and sat up, avoiding her gaze. She could feel his anger rolling off of him in waves. He frantically searched for his mask. She tried to make him stop by laying a hand on his arm, but he shook it off angrily.

“Erik? What’s happened? What have I said to make you think that what I’m saying is untrue?” He turned around, furious, the anger and betrayal overflowing from his eyes. Christine tried not to flinch at his anger and tried to remain calm.

“Untrue? You’ve outright lied Christine!” He screamed without raising his voice.

“All that I’ve said is true.”

“True? True? How can you tell me you my face is beautiful and tell me it’s the truth? I may be a fool, but I am not blind” He turned away from her and began packing the forgotten picnic.

“I never said your face was beautiful.” He stopped, his back still turned to her. She hesitatingly put a hand to his back and immediately felt it relax under her touch. She pressed her forehead to the back of his shoulder. “I said you’re beautiful.” He didn’t turn towards her, but his anger left, replaced with the heavy weight of tiredness.

“You are not making any sense Christine”

“I am making perfect sense, Maestro.” She rested her chin on his shoulder, turning her face towards his. He still hadn’t put his mask on and was staring straight ahead. She tired bringing a smile to his face with her mischievous remark, but he remained impassive.

“Tell me Maestro, would you still love me if I had no hair?” He didn’t turn towards her, but she saw the way his brow furrowed and the downturn of his lips.

“What kind of question is that?”

“Answer it. Please?” She rested her cheek on his shoulder, still not taking her eyes from his face. Her hand, without meaning to, began rubbing circles unto his back, feather light. Immediately his shoulder relaxed and, slowly, achingly hesitant, his face turned to her. Fear and a small trace of anger were still in them, but the utter fondness she found in them brought a smile to her face.

“Of course. Without a question” He answered. It was not a question he thought he would ever have to respond, but the answer was obvious and clear to him, in the same way the sky was blue and that the sun would rise.

“Would you love me if I had warts all over my face? If I had green skin and hairy feet?” He raised his eyebrow, but his answer was as sure as the first one.

“Of course. But, Christine, what on earth are you trying to solve with these confounding questions?” The hand that was not on his back, slowly, as to not make him uncomfortable, came up to his face.

“If you could still love me, with no hair, warts, green skin, and hairy feet: why is it so difficult to believe that I could love you, despite of your face?” She was met with silence. At first there was anger, as if those two things could ever be the same. Then the shock settled in that, yes, those two things were somewhat the same.

“But that is different Christine, you know that”

“How are they different?”

“Because you would still be lovely. You would still be Christine. I,” He couldn’t seem to want to finish his thought. Her other hand came to the other side of his face. He went to pull away, but her hands remained steadfast on his face. His eyes dropped down to the blanket. She noticed that his hands were balled into fists, but their shaking was still evident. One of her hands reached down to his clenched hands and held it.

“You are still my Maestro, you are still the kindest man I’ve ever met, your heart is still your heart, your eyes are still your eyes. What I’ve seen doesn’t change that. Nothing will ever change the way I see you.” She paused for a moment, thinking if what she wanted to say would help or worsen the situation. In the end, she needed to let her feelings out. “I’ve never seen such perfection.” She knew her love and adoration were clear on her face when she said those words, his words. She wanted him to see that nothing would change between them. That his face would not deter her. His shock at hearing his words repeated back to him made her want to laugh, but she knew now was not the time nor the place. She gently brushed her thumb over his sharp cheekbone and, slowly as to give him time to pull away, she leaned in.

With her hands still cupping his face, she kissed him. And he kissed her.

The kiss was everything she had dreamed, and not, all at once. She found that his lack of nose did not deter from the perfection of the kiss, nor their tears wetting both their lips. His trembling hands steadied as they found purchase on her waist and hair. They gripped tightly onto her; afraid that she would vanish into thin air if he didn’t hold her tight enough. Afraid this was all a dream. That was fine by her, she would still be here when he realized this was real, and for now, she will hold him just as tightly. Her hand tightened on his jaw while the other travelled to the hair at the back of his neck, wanting to feel the smooth strands between her fingers.

At last, after what seemed like eternity but was still not enough, their kiss ended. They did not stray far from each other, their foreheads resting against each other. Their breath mixed with the others in the small space between them, their smile not leaving their faces, not that either wanted it to. They looked into each other’s eyes, captivated.

Erik couldn’t believe what had just happened. Christine had kissed him. His heart was trying to beat itself out of his chest and his brain couldn’t fully comprehend what had happened, but the look in Christine’s eyes as he looked at him, without a mask, made all of the voices in his head stop for a moment. All his thought were consumed by Christine. She had seen his face and she had kissed him! He could die right at this moment and he would be the happiest man on earth. He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand, marveling at the softness of her skin.

“Christine” He whispered. The way he said her name sounded like a prayer, spoken only for them to hear.

“Erik” She said in much the same way.

They stayed like that, in each other’s arms, for an instant that stretched into eternity, not a worry on their minds. Nothing mattered but them and that moment, everything else came second and could wait. As long as they had each other and they could wrap their arms around one another, everything would be fine.

--------

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed! Below are my AO3 and Fanfiction account, if you want to check them out.

AO3: FairyArtLover

FF: WhiteLunaNight

[miss-tc-nova]

All Flustered - Young Xehanort x Fem!Reader

Ah, this, ladies and gentlemen, is a reader after my own heart! Yes, Eraqus is definitely my fluff motivator while I tend to write angst for Xehanort, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love him! And you can bet your ass I postponed finishing ‘A SOLDIER’s Memories’ to write this!

Hope this is what you were looking for Anon. 

~~~~~

               I hum to myself, checking over the assignment from last night. The morning sunlight streams in through the classroom window, providing the perfect amount of light and warmth while I enjoy my peaceful moment. Once class starts, I’ll have Tardy Fleetfoot, Smarmy Fluffcoat, and Haughty Swaggerstep to deal with, names courtesy of Tardy himself. They aren’t bad people; none of my classmates are, but peace is certainly a rarity once those three are involved.

               “Do you ever leave this room?”

               Ah, peace is over.

               I pull my gaze from the text to find two of the rabble-rouser trio, Eraqus and Xehanort. The shorter male leans in to take a look at my work. “You’re not done yet? That’s not like the top student.”

               “I finished last night. I was just double checking it,” I reply.

               “Oh. Let me see what answers you got.” Without asking, Eraqus takes my paper and wanders off with it.

               I sigh and start packing up my things, very much aware that Xehanort is still standing there watching me.

               “Seriously, do you ever leave this room outside of keyblade training?” he repeats.

               My ears burn and I only spare him a glance. Xehanort had only joined our class a couple years ago but quickly matched our ranks. There’s hardly a subject he has trouble with and his drive is incredible, though apparently that doesn’t mean he’s above teasing others. He plays indifferent but it’s pretty obvious his classmates have become his friends. He’s smart and confident and strong and I have the biggest crush on him.

               I don’t know what happened. I’d been asked to help catch him up on our curriculum but he refused my help and did it himself in just a few months. As time went on and we had our interactions, I couldn’t help noticing that inspiring confidence and the spark in his eyes at a challenge. There’s just some sort of charm there that has me smitten beyond my control. It’s a terrible distraction in class sometimes.

               But I could never let him know. I prefer observation, letting the others hold most of the attention during class. By nature, that makes me a bit more introverted. Xehanort, on the other hand, is definitely not afraid to speak his mind. Not only would he very likely turn me down in a heartbeat, but the entire class would hear about it. Bragi and Vor might tease me for a while but even after that’s subsided everything would be miserably awkward. That’s one hell I’d like to steer clear of in this lifetime.

               “Yes,” I answer simply. “I just like to get here early. It’s peaceful.”

               “How the heck did I get the number twelve as the second tier ice spell?!” Eraqus exclaims from the table.

               Xehanort raises a brow at his best friend and I can’t help giggling. “Well it was.”

               I collect my things from the window bench and move to the table. Before long, the first class of the day starts.

~~~~~

               “How was that?”

               I drop my shield and give my go-to partner, Hermod, a thumbs-up. “That was great.”

               He looks to his boots. “I think my stance was a bit off.”

               “Well why don’t you give it another go?”

               “Okay.” Hermod and I set up once again but just as he prepares to rush me, we’re interrupted.

               “Excuse me, you two.” We glance back to find Master Odin approaching with Eraqus and Xehanort. “I know you prefer working together, but I need you to work with these two and help them with the new technique.”

               “Uh, yes sir,” Hermod responds dutifully.

               Oh no…

               “Thank you.” With that, the Master ushers Hermod and Eraqus away, leaving me to work with Xehanort.

               Crap!

               Xehanort folds his arms and huffs. “Guess it was a matter of time before we got in over our heads.”

               Trying to ignore the nerves working in my chest, I tilt my head. “You normally pick up keyblade work very quickly without any help.”

               “Yeah, well this one’s not very useful,” he grumbles.

               It’s not very common to see Xehanort perturbed so this is fairly interesting. Still, I know he’s determined so I’ll help him out any way I can.

               “I’m sure you’ll catch on soon enough,” I encourage, insides freezing at the skeptical glare. “Come on. Show me what you’ve got so far.”

               It gives me some joy to have Xehanort flip his opinion on the technique once I’ve sorted out exactly where his problem lies. Soon, he’s on the verge of destroying my shield rather than bouncing off it. At his insistence, we move on to practical application while sparring and he’s certainly got me on the ropes.

               Until disaster strikes.

               My foot catches on an uneven stone and I hit the ground. It’s too late for my opponent to halt his attack and Xehanort ends up tripping over me. I wait for the collision but it’s not nearly as squishing as I’m expecting.

               “Are you okay?”

               Eyes snapping open, I suddenly feel as if I’ve been lit on fire. He may not have been able to stop his fall but Xehanort managed to catch himself and prevent himself from crushing me. He’s still far too close for comfort though.

               Out of desperation to remove myself from the situation, I shove him off me and sit up. “Yeah! I’m fine!” I say, quickly standing and brushing the dirt from my pants. I’m terrified to look at him, terrified that my burning face will betray me. “S-Sorry!” My saving grace comes in the tolling bell. “Oh thank gods!” I breathe, scurrying back into the castle.

               It takes me ages to push the event out of my head. My diversion tactic is the usual: dive head first into my studying. I sneak away to the library which also happens to have a very cozy little window seat. As I settle in, it’s knowledge that washes away my anxieties and consumes the remainder of my day.

               “So you do leave the classroom.”

               Heart stops and blood runs cold. No. He’s not… My eyes flash to the figure strolling along the bookshelves. There’s an all-knowing smile on his lips and the way he approaches is reminiscent of a predator whose prey has zero escapes. He is!

               “Xehanort,” I manage to utter, closing my book. “What are you doing here?”

               “This is a library,” he replies lightly. “Can’t I come to study just like you?” I bite back my response. “But you’re smart enough to know that’s not true aren’t you. So I’ll get to the point: you weren’t at dinner.”

               He’s right. I’d been so focused in trying to push him out of my head that I completely forgot about eating. It had gotten so late, only the bright moonlight from the window was what allowed me to continue reading. “Oh…I completely forgot. I was so busy studying I-”

               “Why are you avoiding me?”

               Without even a minute change in his predatory expression, Xehanort takes another step closer and my body reactively shrinks back. The blood is flowing again and I can’t maintain eye contact.

               “Interesting. Our class’s top student, scared of me?”

               “N-No,” I stammer.

               Clearly entertained, he leans closer. “Then what’s wrong?”

               Snatching up my books, I stand. “I need to go.”

               One step into my flight, a hand takes my arm. I let out a squeak of a gasp when my back meets the wall. There’s a thump right above my head. I keep my eyes clamped shut because I know what meets me should they open; I can feel the warmth coming from him—that’s how close he is. Even more, I don’t even have to look to witness the sheer gratification rolling off him. There’s no doubt he’s enjoying this.

               “What’s wrong?” his smooth voice hums. The mint toothpaste on his breath ghosts across my cheeks.

               “Th-This isn’t funny.” I curse myself for stuttering, but I swear my heart is beating so hard that’s why my voice shakes.

               “Of course it’s not.”

               I finally persuade myself to peek and it was a mistake. His face is only centimeters away, those dazzling argent eyes capturing mine. I can’t look away but the wall won’t let me through.

               “Don’t get me wrong, I take pride in eliciting this sort of reaction from you, but this isn’t a joke.” I can hear the pleased smile in his words but my gaze is still glued to his. I’d never noticed the alluring flecks of deep silver dappled among sterling in those eyes before.

               Not the time for that! It takes so much effort to keep my breath from shuddering. “Then why are you doing this?” I whisper.

               “I’ll admit you’re very subtle, at least until you’re caught off guard. Then you’re very easy to read. I’m impressed you kept your little secret hidden for so long; not even Urd or Vor knew.”

               “No,” I breathe, knowing I’ve been found out.

               “Oh yes. And I’m flattered, really.”

               “Oh no.” I can feel the constriction in my chest and I’m praying to wake up from this dream.

               “Don’t get me wrong.” His finger under my chin forces my face up. “You’re very pretty but above that, you’re smart and quite the little sweetheart too, huh?”

               Feeling vulnerable and stepped on, I mutter, “Would you just get it over with?”

               His eyes almost glow in the illumination of the moon. “Alright.”

               Time stops, or perhaps that’s just my brain. It only took a slight dip of his head and Xehanort’s got his lips to mine. Due to the earlier mentioned problem of brain not working, I don’t resist his lead, falling further and further under his spell with each move. The fog in my head descends into my chest, dissipating that heavy sinking of dread, replacing it with a weightless euphoria I couldn’t have imagined.

               Xehanort breaks away but my lips chase his without my consent, stealing another kiss. When I realize what I’m doing, I pull back as far as the wall will let me, embarrassment blazing across my skin.

               “I’m so sorry,” I apologize in a whisper.

               His chuckle rattles my fragile grip on stability. “Don’t be.” My inhale comes staggered when his fingers slide into my hair. Speaking in the low voice that makes my knees weak, he murmurs, “I very much enjoy seeing how you react to me.” It takes everything I have not to lunge at him when his lips barely graze mine as he continues. “I look forward to seeing just what other reactions I can get from you.”

               “What do you mean?”

               “Saturday, I’m taking you to that founding festival coming up. Sound like a plan?”

               I can’t tell if I’m trembling or not, but I manage a steady answer. “Yes.”

               “Good.” Finally he relents and gives me a third kiss but it’s far more casual and relaxed—I still want more.

               The boy breaks away from me, clearly amused at the shaken state he’s left me in. Clinging to the books against my chest, I glance away.

               “You really are cute, you know that?” It’s in a teasing tone but I can tell that he means it. I have no answer to that but my stomach apparently does and I’d like to just die now. Xehanort laughs. “Come on. I bet we can sneak something from the kitchen before they lock everything down.”

               I gasp quietly when he takes my hand and leads me away in confidence. Before we even make it out of the library, I’m smiling away like a love struck fool.

~~~~~

               I’m running a bit late today. My dumb brain wouldn’t let me sleep last night, replaying my moonlight kiss over and over; I’m pretty sure I even dreamt of it. Then I’m afraid that I actually dreamt it.

               Turning the corner, just before I enter the class, I can hear people talking. Xehanort’s in there, talking about me.

               “So I’m taking her to that festival on Saturday.”

               “There’s no way our shy little smarty is going on a date with you,” argues Urd.

               “It’s true. Had her like putty in my hands after just one kiss.” That brings a frown to my face; it’s true of course but he didn’t need to tell everyone.

               Eraqus exclaims, “Wait, you kissed her?!”

               “Yeah,” he laughs. “She’s cute when she’s all flustered.”

               He’d gotten the better of me last night and, while I very much enjoyed it, I won’t go on without it being known that I can be bold too.

               Steeling my nerves, I stalk towards the offender. Silver eyes fly wide open when I snatch fistfuls of his black jacket. With a sharp tug, I pull the boy around. His arms grasp at me as I dip him beneath me and jam my lips against his. For a brief moment, I consider taking advantage of his shock and basking in this feeling of dominance I’m sure will be rare in our relationship. However, seeing as we have an audience, I release my captive and right his posture. Pride and absolute delight fill my chest at the sight of Xehanort’s bright red face and shock.

               “I-um-uh-I-” he stammers, truly at a loss for words.

               “Yeah,” I say, beaming at my friends. “He’s cute when he’s all flustered.”

[ladyofmaidensandwine]

Seven Devils

Part Five of the All’s Not Fair in Love and War Series

Characters: Dean Winchester, Fem! Reader, Sam Winchester, Charlie, John Winchester, Fem! Reader, Rowena, Crowley

Wordcount: 2,317

A/N- You’ve waited long enough. enjoy, luvs!

Summary: Y/N finally reveals herself, her mission, but everything could be put in jeopardy when the unexpected forces her to make a choice.

Warnings- Implied sexual assault, very briefly mentioned. Death by gallows.

                 “Y/N. Y/N MacLeod.” The silence that followed the words was deafening, Crowley staring agape. “You’re bloody jesting.” He denied instantly. You smirked, shaking your head. “No. You came to my home, to Innisfree, and you slaughtered almost the entire royal family. All except one, the youngest princess, who disguised herself as a peasant and spent many years serving the man that destroyed her life. She was beautiful, and caught your eye. You stole her away to your chambers, and then forgot about her. Then I was born. My mother died in childbirth, but I carry her legacy, and her title.” You said darkly. “Impossible!” Crowley snapped. “Oh, but it is the truth, Fergus, and now, I will be the one to burn your kingdom to ash.” You smiled, a hunger for revenge alight in your eyes. “I should kill you here and now, and be done with it,” you mused, stepping closer with an assessing gaze, “but that would be merciful. No, you’ll live, and when I reclaim my throne and wash my hands in the blood of your subjects and soldiers, you will watch, watch as your own daughter dismantles all that you hold dear.” Crowley paled considerably, scowling and struggling in his bonds. “So, for now, I leave you to your cell. I am truly so glad we were able to talk, father.” You spat. You turned on your heel, ignoring Crowley’s enraged threats and the insults he hurled at you.

             You were ready, already stealing away to a hidden exit in the building, prepared to make your escape, when a loud commotion made you pause. The king’s guard were all rushing in one direction, and echoing through the halls was the sound of metal clashing on metal, the air suddenly charged with tension. Crowley’s people had come to free him, and they would cut through every living soul for fun. “Sam, you must go, and take Jessica!” An all-too familiar voice shouted, your heart racing. Dean. Of course, he had to be the hero every time. You had a mission, a vital task that your entire kingdom depended on you for. If you turned around, you knew well that you would never be able to leave. But if you left, knowing the odds were so stacked against Dean, you didn’t think you could forgive yourself. The shouts and sound of battle grew louder and louder, and for a moment, everything became clear, and you knew what you had to do.

              “Stop! Touch him and I swear I shall kill you!” You snarled viciously, a sword you’d stolen from the body of a dead soldier in your hand. The man that had been holding a knife to Dean’s throat hesitated as he saw the death promise blazing in your eyes, the unrestrained fury and hatred burning there. “Why should I take such an order from you?” The man spat. “For one, because I will not hesitate to slay you where you stand, and you would be dead before your wretched companions could so much as move,” you started, eyes narrowed, “and for another, because I have command of you and your legions by birthright.” No one moved, Dean’s shocked green eyes snapping to you. “What?” “By your law and custom, you are bound to the ruling of the MacLeod bloodline, and thus, to me. I am Y/N MacLeod, Queen of Innisfree, The Morrigan, The Assassin, and Queen of you, especially since Crowley is otherwise indisposed.” You said. You had played the only card you had left, but the cost weighed heavily, and you met Dean’s eyes finding nothing but betrayal in them. The demon slowly removed the knife, the others exchanging glances, but following the example, especially as your sword remained poised to strike. They knelt, and your expression remained hard, swallowing the guilt down. “Return to your own stronghold, and if a single one of you is found within five kilometres of this land, I shall make an exceptionally gruesome example of you of what happens when I am disobeyed.” You ordered. When no one moved, you stepped closer, sword pressed against the first demon’s chest. “I don’t believe I hesitated.” You growled. They scrambled to leave, not daring to challenge you, knowing well your reputation.

           “Y/N, please tell me you lied.” Dean begged, your eyes closing. “I am so sorry, Dean. I never- I never wanted for this to happen, I-” He shook his head, backing away from you. “This entire time, everything was a lie, all of it part of your plan. I trusted you!” Dean shouted accusingly. “I hope you can understand in time that I did what I had to. I have a kingdom to protect, Dean. This burden was mine, and I had to carry it. Forgive me. I have to go.” You said, voice wobbling with tears building in your eyes. “I understand. But I must protect my kingdom, too, Y/N.” Dean said, your brows furrowing in confusion. “I wish it did not have to be this way.” He sighed heavily. “Dean, I do not understand-” and then you felt it. The presence of someone behind you. John Winchester and his personal guard. You didn’t have the time to run before you were knocked unconscious.

                 You woke in a place that was familiar, immediate terror stealing away the air from your lungs. Stone walls, darkness, and absolute silence. The tomb-like prison you had been incarcerated in before. “No, no, no, no...” You gasped, scrambling to your feet. Through the bars, you saw Dean staring at you. “Dean, please, don’t do this.” You pleaded, thoughts spiraling further into despair. “You betrayed me. You betrayed my people.” “I saved your life!” “And how long would it be before your army came here to lay siege to my palace, Y/N?!” Dean shot back, marching up to the cell. “I would never have hurt you, Dean.” You said, shocked. “How can I believe you? How can I believe a single word you say, when everything, everything you have ever said to me, has been a lie!” He roared, slamming a fist against the wall and immediately regretting it. You flinched at the anger and anguish in his voice. “I told you I was here for my people, Dean! I have been more honest with you than I have been with anyone else in my entire life!” You argued desperately. “I would have helped you, if you had told me. I could have been there for you. Instead you kept it a secret, and I don’t know how many other secrets you have.” Dean swallowed. “The worst part of it is you made me believe you cared for me. Well, if that was your intention, congratulations, Y/N, you made me care for you, too.” He said bitterly, your eyes going wide. “I do care for you. No matter how I cherish you, I cannot let myself stray from my mission. I wanted to, so many times.” You admitted in a whisper. “Please, don’t leave me here. If you truly care for me, don’t leave me here-” “Don’t! Do not attempt to manipulate me, not any longer.” Dean said lowly. “You are to be tried, and sentenced come dawn.” “And if I am sentenced to death?” You asked boldly. “Then I will not be mourning.” He replied. You moved fast, snatching his sword from his side, and held it, but the blade was against your own throat. “Then go ahead, Dean. I would rather die than be trapped here, so if you truly would not mourn, kill me now.” You said, staring into his eyes defiantly, his hand on the hilt of the sword. He shook his head, sheathing the weapon and backing away. “You will be tried for your crimes as is just.” He said. “Crowley is my enemy as well as yours! I can stop him, I can trap he and his men forever! Why will you not help me?” You demanded. “I am to be King one day, Y/N, and my father has told me there are many difficult choices to make. I am commanding my troops and we will take Innisfree under Lebanon’s name, as it is clearly a hostile kingdom and dangerous.” Dean said, not meeting your eyes. You couldn’t breathe. “No, you can’t! My people are innocent, Dean, please! Don’t do this!” You begged, now near sobbing. “I have to. You forced my hand, and with Crowley freed, there is no other way.” He said, turning away with his back to you. “I am not the one who is the traitor, Dean. I was wrong about you. You are exactly like your father.” You choked out, sinking to your knees. He swallowed hard, glad you couldn’t see the agony on his face. He walked out, and you collapsed into your grief.

                  The King and his council, as well as both princes, sat in a line at the raised podium as you were led to the middle of the floor, manacled and clad in irons and chains with multiple armed guards flanking you. The people loudly shouted insults and threats at you, but you remained stoic, the grey light of dawn matching your somber mood. Dean looked everywhere but at you, and as John stood to begin the proceedings of the trial, you kept your gaze steady on him.

               “The jury has come to a unanimous decision. The accused, Y/N MacLeod, is found guilty of treason, murder, espionage, theft, and being part of a dangerous rebellion. The accused is sentenced to...” John paused for dramatic effect, the audience hushed. “Death by the gallows.” John declared. You lifted your chin, as regal as any Queen, the audience cheering. Dean finally met your eyes, looking conflicted. You were led immediately to the gallows, a hooded man already waiting to pull the lever that would seal your fate. 

             “As is tradition, you are permitted last words.” John said. “My death will not be in vain! No matter what you accuse me of, I die knowing I fought with honour against tyrants like you for the freedom of my people!” You said proudly. You met Dean’s eyes, and couldn’t find it in you to hate him. “And no matter the outcome, I would make the same choices all over again.” You said, hoping Dean understood what you meant. The pain in the end was worth the beauty of falling in love for a moment. You turned to John with a satisfied smirk. “I shall see you in Hell.” You promised. He turned red in fury, and you closed your eyes as he turned to the executioner. “Do it-” “Wait!”

            Your eyes snapped open, staring at Dean in confusion. He’d stood from his seat, John and Sam gaping at him while the public watched on. The obedient son, heir to the throne, opposing his father’s orders. And for the thief and assassin condemned to hanging. Dean took several quick and long strides to the gallows, meeting your eyes ashamedly.

             “Wait.” Dean repeated, fists clenched and jaw tight. “She is not the enemy, father, at least not as of now.” “Son, I would advise you to return to your seat-” John gritted his teeth but Dean wasn’t finished pleading his case. “No, father, listen to me. She is the enemy of Crowley, and thus our ally. Her alliance with Crowley’s forces is purely to overthrow the occupants of Innisfree. She is a powerful person to have on our side in this war, father.” Dean said, tone steady but hard and uncompromising. “You can’t mean to say you would side with her.” John said incredulously. “That is precisely what I mean.” Dean didn’t wait for his father’s permission, drawing his sword and cutting through the rope around your neck, making you cough at the sudden intake of air. He met his father’s eyes challengingly as he offered you his hand, John’s gaze flickering between you both in shock. “My son,” John began loudly, “has decided to take full responsibility for the crimes and charges against this murderer. He has sworn that she will be our ally, until the war against Fergus MacLeod ends, or she is met with an untimely death.” John said, cutting a glare your way. “Furthermore, should either of them break the terms, both shall be permanently exiled from these lands on pain of death.” John decreed. Dean’s grip tightened, but he showed no other outward signs of the shock he must’ve felt, while Sam was standing, ready to argue for his brother’s sake. “Is that understood?” John asked. “Perfectly, father. If you would excuse us. The guards are not necessary.” Dean said, bowing mockingly, and leading you away.

           “What are you thinking?!” You demanded as Dean entered his room. “A thank you would suffice, Y/N.” He responded. “For what?! Risking both of our lives?! Do you realize your title is now at risk of being forfeit?” “I won’t have a title if Crowley takes over my kingdom. I was selfish, and I acted on impulse out of hurt, and for that, I truly apologize. I should never have let you be locked away. I am still hurt, and I don’t know if I can trust you,” he frowned, meeting your eyes, “but I cannot pretend what I feel for you has vanished.” “Dean, think about this. I still have a mission I must fulfill.” You said quietly. “I know. None of it matters, not right now. All I need to know is that you and I are on the same side. The rest of it can come later.” He said, eyes warm as he regarded you. “Are we? On the same side?” Dean asked. “Of course we are.” You said, smiling slightly. “Good. Now, we rest, and then we devise a plan.” “You truly think this can work?” “I don’t know. But I would like to hope so.” He said with a smile. You considered him for a long moment, nodding slowly. You believed him.

TAGS-

Forever Tags-

@justagirlinafandomworld

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@herfalsegod

All’s Not Fair in Love and War Series Tags-

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@spnfanficpond

[frstbiitten]

cw: blood, death, gore

Not a week has passed and she already felt that the world was stagnating her, observed the cracked streets with tired eyes, the others forgot that part of her world existed, and also the universe forgot about her sorrows. She stared at the cigarette smoke with some appreciation, what would it be like to fill her lungs with that toxic cloud? Frost saw it rise to the lights of the brothel, it had become just another resident, one of the rats that walk between the feet of the customers, ignores the dangerous steps of heels like knives, and takes the food to its nest.

Jasper was the one who gave the idea in the beginning. Sometimes she felt compelled to visit this temple not so far away and pray to the Elder Gods, never expected answers from them, she didn't expect anything, but it soothed her soul for a few days or weeks until she found it necessary to return. Frost knew well which place they would visit; she had already been there many times. Faith seems to turn blind the ignorants, or so she thought long ago, didn't think this way about Jasper, she didn't want to think this way about her.

Her intentions were always good, even though she sensed she was surrounded by snakes and whatever sinful creature was at her side, under or over her, this was her way of "purifying herself". They arrived at a temple of a structure somewhat standard for the rest of the buildings, the neighborhood had changed to one that was more or less stable, there were gardens with flowers of hundreds of colors, families enjoying the outdoors, teenagers playing or listening to music. That scenario filled Frost with envy, not a light one, but a very toxic one, even though they were constantly ignored, nobody in the neighborhood noticed them, for them they are ghosts. The sacred building was located behind a gate with vines, there was an unbearable smell of summer flora as if it was the last day they would see the sun. A path of stones guided them to that structure that seemed to be alive, with a glass that looked like an enormous flower on top; it was not a colored glass but one that dispersed the light, broke it, and turned it into a soft rainbow.

The smell of incense and sandalwood was the welcome card, silent and almost dark even though the light came to gently touch the marble floor. And speaking of marble, a slightly greenish stone rose from the floor on the wall like a tree with dry branches, it reached the curved ceiling, one could hear a fountain at the other end, sharp stones and flowers coexisted, light and darkness coexisted. Wooden seats and glass and glossy stone statuettes. There was no one else there except for the gentle sound of a broom, a lady bent over to remove the dust that formed with the hours that passed inside of the temple. "From dust, you come, and into dust, you shall return." She couldn't ignore this saying, much less if one day she lost a fight, would she be dismembered before placing her shattered body in a garbage bag for the rats, or would her body be set on fire so that the heat of hell would consume her first?

Jasper pointed with one of his index fingers, never noticing how bony they were, her gaze fixed on a small wooden cubicle from which incense smoke was emanating and forming a cloud above. "There you can tell a priest your sorrows, that you feel you have done wrong, she will say nothing to anyone, for no one knows who they are."

"I know, I have come here before... many years ago." Frost decided to focus on something less threatening than a cubicle against the wall from which there seemed to be no one inside, but there was something inside, more like someone.

"Oh, I thought you didn't believe in heavenly beings." They both approached it, there was someone else inside, they couldn't hear what he was saying, just a muffled murmur through the thick wooden walls.

"I used to do it."

The cubicle opened, an old man came out, walked with a cane, and greeted them the best he could. He was a grandfather who was slowly dying with the days, coughing on his way out, so here they come the desperate ones too, those who see the road end.

The idea of going in doesn't seem like a tempting idea for Frost, to go in and tell your secrets to a stranger, and even though Frost was surrounded by people she barely knew well. She simply shook her head, and at that signal, Jasper entered the wooden cubicle, leaving Frost alone with the echo of the temple.

She remembered it, the offerings of flowers and bread with sparrow feathers and little stones, she remembered the soft fall of the silver coins towards the bottom of the fountain, she approached the fountain that ended up resembling an empty pond, only heard the murmur of the water flowing between the stones and the roots. The statues of the Elder Gods were not as imposing as the place where they stayed, they seemed calm, sitting as if they were meditating with their eyes closed. Was it a metaphor about them? That no matter how much you make offerings to them they will never see you? She had a grudge against these false idols, their innocence, and wasted time while leaving thoughtless offerings on an empty stomach. Frost was young and ignorant, perhaps she still was, but she knew what to believe and what not to believe.

Heard Jasper leave the cubicle, looking calmer than before as if she had been lightly sedated and her eyelids were heavy. But she was awake, only her eyes looked swollen, reddish, her veins were visible, had she been crying? It was probable.

She was silent for a long time until they arrived at her apartment, Jasper desired to lie down a bit, recharge her energy before the night. Frost didn't know if it was a good idea to stay with her, but she hadn't said anything about her leaving. She seemed to be in a strange trance as if her eyesight had become blurred and could only look straight ahead the whole time. Sat down in a somewhat old armchair near one of the windows, Frost didn't know what to do, whether to touch her shoulder or leave her, the first option was the most feasible for her. Approached her without any intention of scaring her, cooled his fingers a bit and reached for her shoulder, reacted with a deep breath, her eyes distressed and red. Jasper took her hand and got up from the chair.

"Jasper? What is happening? Are you okay?" Frost was almost as disoriented as she was, having no idea what had just happened.

"Can you... Can you stay with me for today? I can lend you some clothes for later, you can use the bathroom if you want, sleep for a while, whatever you want? But please stay with me, just for today."

"Yes, of course, I have nothing to do today."

************************************

Night had fallen, this time Frost had the opportunity to wear some of Jasper's clothes, a sleeveless blouse that looked like red velvet (although it wasn't, as much as she wanted to) and some dark jeans with boots and her hair braided for the very first time in years. Maybe Jasper had gotten excited with the makeup and hairstyle, the blue eyes of the cryomancer were adorned by red and black shadow, the lips were dark red, maybe Jasper had gotten excited a lot. Although the two seemed to be in stark contrast to each other, Frost felt a little uncomfortable at first, hiding in their break rooms. 

That night she was a little more daring, passing through the corridors, observing the details of the environment around her, the faint red and pink lights inviting sin, the cigarette smoke coming off the lips of strangers, the expensive perfume, the sound of the heels. She didn't belong to this world, although she felt some connection with these women. Why do they do this? Some like it, others don't. Frost certainly liked winning a fight, venting her anger, being the center of the world's attention while opening wounds. Others, no, others didn't like the world that they are forced to live in.

Her feet were leading her to the entrance, actually, to the main hall, it was a rather interesting place, the lights were moving and changing colors erratically, the music was filling her ears and seemed to be stirring her body, there was a catwalk included, but there was no one on it at that moment, later there would be some of the girls dancing on the pole. Frost went down some stairs straight into the midst of strangers, didn't know which song was playing at that moment, but the blue and green of the spotlights predominated. What could she do here? Wasn't in the mood to dance, even though all this crowd was dancing, rubbing their bodies against others, she felt the weight of a look from the shadows. 

She was a lightweight if she didn't concentrate enough, observed between people, would anyone see her? The short hairs behind her neck stood up, it wasn't the cold of her body, it was that gaze fixed on her. But the one she did find in the crowd was Jasper, who seemed to be quiet among so many people, Frost made her way to her, touching her shoulder to attract her attention.

"Do you feel better now?" Because of the noise of the music, she had to exaggerate the movement of her lips so she could read them.

"Yes, I'm better now." She spoke with a smile, her eyelids shone with a pale rose and gold, glossy lips and wavy hair, it seemed that time and sweat did not affect her, but it gave this divine soft aura around her, for some reason, made Frost feel safe around her.

"Well, but, I have something to tell you, I think someone is watching me."

Mentioning that, Jasper looked to the sides, a determined glance at different directions and she couldn't see anyone staring at them, not in her world, she was always the one who was watching.

"Do you want me to call you a cab?"

It was an exhausting and long moment, seconds that were striving to turn into hours, she couldn't answer her in time, simply nodded her head but she had already forgotten about the question when those seconds returned to their normal course. Her eyelids were stained with violent red, part of her neck, and even her chest was painted with such horrific color. Frost heard screams too, they weren't hers but came from different directions around her being, as Frost hadn't said anything. Had Jasper collapsed on the dancefloor, a hole in the side of her neck from which hot blood was gushing out like a volcano that had just erupted. Her only reaction at that moment was to see the exit of the building, heard the door slam and without thinking it twice, she ran in that direction. There was no moon that night, the boots were not the best to run after an elusive stranger who took advantage of the darkness and architecture of the neighborhood.

Jumping over garbage bags, stairs, and walls of asphalt and bricks, he was very agile but not stealthy. It didn't take long for Frost's eyes to give off that glow of fury on her way to meet the stranger. The smell of sweat and gunpowder was wafting off, her instinct prompting her to throw an ice ball the size of her hand in the direction of his feet before he could get out of a passage between two buildings. That was enough to make him stumble, listening as his body collapsed on garbage bags, glass bottles broke under his back, plastic folded, and even rats came out of their hiding empty-handed. She could see the fear creeping down his cheeks in the form of tears and sweat, trying to become one with the wall waiting for it to hide him from that girl approaching from the darkness with her eyes turned in a strange and deadly glow.

"Why did you ki-"

"She didn't have to die, she had nothing to do with it!" The man let go as he hugged his icy leg, he could see the ice piercing his skin and growing to his knee with a devouring intention. "It was you... you had to die tonight!"

"... Who sent you, was it Lewis? Are you a Black Dragon? ANSWER ME!!" Her voice seemed to have as much effect on him as the ice. Did he know he was going to die tonight? Frost soon used one of her cold hands to press on his neck, heard the exact moment the man started to pee himself and tremble -either by the fear or the cold-, the smell didn't bother her completely, it was the fact that he was still alive. 

He didn't say anything, obviously out of fear, but he nodded his head a couple of times, that was enough for her. He was going to die sooner or later, Frost's hands had already done enough and the man had lost the energy in his body, and suddenly, it was it, his soul was gone forever from his body. Could it be a heart attack? The girl's eyes returned to normal, she should have been the victim but Jasper ended up paying the price for a stupid mistake. One less innocent person and Lewis was still playing around with her patience. It was better to go back to the others, could hear the police sirens approaching.

[seddm]

Season 4: where to go now?

What happened, happened. It’s no secret I’m not happy about it, since the show brought all the shipping related situations to a point of no return at the end of S3, just to then absolutely ignore them for seven episodes, and then go “no but see Marco and Star were constantly eaten inside by how much they love each other but did nothing about it and now they fear it might have been the Blood Moon influencing their feelings even if that had never been remotely hinted at in the show so far and then they realize they love each other but nope lol they forget about it and now Tomstar an Kellco are canon so they’re going to need the rest of the season to re-realize that they’re in love”.  Terrible.

But we can’t change the past and I’m not one to suddenly dislike a whole product that brought me years of happiness (and fear and anger and stress) and several satisfactions, and Starco is still a fantastic ship and a fantastic duo of characters to me, even if S4 handled them just plain horribly so far (see a post about it here). So, where could the season go now, and how could Star’s growth arc go back to bouncing between moments connected to the plot and moments connected to shipping that all contribute to her overall development and maturity?

We already suspected as much after the season premiere, and especially after Surviving the Spiderbites, but it looks like a major theme this season is going to be “choices”: Star trusted Eclipsa and gave her the wand and the throne, but now might not be completely sure about this decision anymore. At the same time, she does trust Eclipsa and she sees that she’s doing more for monsters than any other Queen before, but she’s bound to eventually see (maybe next Sunday, in Cornball, an episode that’s going to feature Buff Frog) that it’s not enough, or at least not the right way to go at it. It’s easy to see how this theme of “choice”, of learning how to rule while also ruling her heart and feelings, could relate to shipping and Starco. Furthermore, Curse of the Blood Moon introduce a tangential concept, the idea of free will, of making your own choices without letting external forces influence you. Brian H. Kim, the show’s composer, confirms it while talking about the Blood Moon waltz track:

But I also love this episode for how it moves along the greater story of Star and Marco, and what it says about destiny vs. free will. If they are to be together, would we be happier for them if that was a result of magic, or by their own choice? And if they aren’t to be together, that should be their own choice too. I immediately loved the question mark it left and how it sets up the rest of the season, and the greater idea that we should all be allowed to make choices about who and when we love someone.

Now, while I think that applying this theme to Starco at this point of the show is useless and a waste of time for a number of reasons I already explained here, I can also see why, on paper, an arc like this might have sounded interesting to the writers, and it could genuinely bring some moments of deep emotional intimacy between Star and Marco, and eventually a canonization on very, very sure terms - at that point the L word being said wouldn’t surprise me at all. And how this all ties with what happened in the episode, and with what might happen in the near future (as usual, I’m very often wrong about specifics in these kind of predictions, so take everything with a lot of grains of salt)?

According to Relicor, the Severing Stone was going to sever the bond between Star and Marco by erasing the memory of the moment they fell in love. 

Going into the vision, all the kids thought “Well we fell in love when we got cursed by the Blood Moon, so it’s going to remove that”. But then Star and Marco find themselves experiencing new parts of the dance, moments that never happen in real life, and the Stone acts only when they actually do fall in love.

Once the vision is over, they still do remember the Blood Moon ball, and that they were dancing. They just forgot about all the “I like this” part, the part when they ACTUALLY did genuinely, strongly, purely, fell in love with each other.  They enter the Stone with feelings at level 99 They dance and level up to 100 The Stone severs that, and brings them back to 99

So leveling up those feeling to 100 again, this time being sure that the Moon didn’t influence anything, is likely going to be the new arc for Star and Marco, and it’s possibly going to go hand in hand with Star having to question her own choices and certainties: one could be that giving the throne to Eclipsa was the best move, another one that being with Tom and not with Marco is the best choice. Now, this is where the speculations become predictions and being wrong gets super easy, but since we know that the picture from the future is important in this season, Beach Day might become the next big moment for Star: playing in the water together and being as happy as they look in this picture might be a new occasion to fall in love, replacing this,

with this.

Because it’d be extremely fitting both the narrative of the show and this arc, and the generic norms of romance, to give the message that when the feelings are true and genuine, love can blossom in any moment, it doesn’t need a fancy ball or a magic light, even going splashy splashy bally bally in the warm waters of California can do the trick.

Obviously Tomstar still exist and Kellco is kinda a thing now (even though she still has to get over Tad before being fully ready to move on with Marco I guess), so I don’t expect Beach Day to canonize Starco, unless by some miracle both of the grow close together enough before episode 16A to realize that they have to break up with the other people in their lives, but that sounds unlikely and, in this season, stupidly optimistic. Still, realizing once again that they love each other - not just like, love, and this time with no Stones immediately erasing their memories, might be the last push needed to solve all the ongoing situations in their respective lives, and finally get together.

If this happens before the series finale, allowing the dorks to enter the climax of the story while already being romantically together and sure of their feelings, allowing for the closing scenes to truly be as close to “I want to spend my life with you and I’m sure about it” as they can get without being too cheesy or too unrealistic for two teens, I’ll probably forget a great deal of the dissatisfaction and anger this first part of the season made me experiences.

Please.

[sea-side-scribbles]

Fanfiction: Sympathy For A Downer

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22737214/chapters/55428778

Chapter 8:

Nick still felt a bit uneasy passing by his fans, fearing that they could recognize him any moment by his movements, his height, his eye color or even his scent. He was tensed up and avoided to look anyone in the eye until he was finally safe and still in one piece. The rest of the way to the hotel he was much more relaxed, walked around just as jolly and lively as everyone else and found that this undercover-stroll could be really amusing, at least if he wasn’t surrounded by fans. 

He lost his smile again when he saw another mass of Wellies gathering before the Avalon. Even there!, he thought desperately. The entire town was crazy today! Still, he noticed with relief that no one of them was dressed like him, so it had to be something else they gathered around. An accident maybe.

He joined the mass and asked the first person he met what was going on.

„What’s going on? It was in the News Hour!“, the citizen was shocked. 

„Uh…I forgot the news…too much Joy, haha…“, Nick said nervously and scratched the back of his head.

„Birdie Callagher sings in the Avalon today!“, the man explained and widened his arms in a solemn gesture as if he expected Nick to applaud.

Nick was dumbfounded. „Uh…who?“

„You’re living under a rock? Birdie Callagher is the best singer in town! She has all it takes to become the new voice of Wellington Wells! If only I made it inside, I could see her!“, the man shouted and continued to stare daggers at the hotel, probably thinking hard about how to get in.

Nick needed a bit to process the mind blowing news he just heard. But then he knew he needed to see this girl.

He took a closer look at the pass that was attached to the other man’s suit and stated: „You’re from the O’Courant.“ 

The other man crossed his arms. „So what? Does it bother you?“

Nick looked around as if he was making sure that no one listened to them and confidentially whispered to the reporter: „I can bring you in. I know a secret passage into the bar.“

„You’d do that for me?“, the man was surprised.

„Sure, I’m just doing a favor to a fellow colleague,“ he lied, winking at him.

So they both sneaked away from the crowd and went into the park that surrounded the hotel, reaching the place were Nick had created himself a second entrance. He removed the grating from the vent and pointed at it, bowing his head. „After you…“

„I should remember this trick…“ the reporter said and started to climb into the shaft when Nick made use of the second syringe for today. Two in one day!, he thought, catching the other man before he could hit the ground. That was a new record. He should refill his storage. 

He took the press pass and dumped the reporter in the next trash bin. The fellow citizen shouldn’t remember any of this later. Prepared like this, Nick climbed into the shaft and soon he entered the bar that was well filled with people who were cheering and clapping and it seemed to be that the fun was already over. Nick struggled through the mass, trying to at least catch a glimpse at this curious new songbird. 

And then he saw her, gracefully striding on past the lightning cameras with fluid movements. Even her dress seemed to run down along her, emphasizing her curvy body shape. Her golden hair swirled around her upper body in heavy waves that fell down to her hips and bounced at each movement. He saw how the cameras loved her, the way she gave her adorable smile with bright white teeth and how she blew kisses into the air. She couldn’t be much younger than Nick, but she looked as excited as a child at christmas that just randomly happened to be grown into the body of a goddess. 

This hair can’t be real, Nick thought to himself. 

Then she lifted the microphone to her glossy lips and her silky voice echoed in the room.

„Thank you everyone for coming here and thank you for all your support! It was so much fun to sing for you and I hope we’ll see each other again some day…“

Nick had stopped moving a long time ago while the others started cheering and clapping again. He watched this supernatural being float into a corner of the room and sitting down at a table where another reporter or whatever already waited for her. The hotel staff began to push the masses out of the bar and they sluggishly set themselves in motion. Nick would’ve followed them all in defeat and searched another bar to drown all his sorrows in scotch if he wouldn’t have seen a familiar face sitting at the table, that made him first startle in horror and then falling into uncontrollable rage.

Again, he struggled through the mass, ignored the boys who shouted after him („Sir, you’re not allowed to trespass, sir!“) and went directly to the said table from where the two were staring at him. He walked so calmly that he didn’t seem to be too dangerous. 

„Do I know you?“, Virgil was able to ask before Nick grabbed him and hurled him over the table. He didn’t really fly over it, he rather crashed on the top and slid along the rest of the way until he slumped down on the other side. Birdie screamed and jumped up and someone else in the distance shouted: „Downer!“

Nick walked around the table, passing by Birdie.

„You better stand off, dearie, this is gonna be nasty,“ he hissed at her while she stared at him in horror. The next moment he saw stars because Virgil had struggled up and returned the favor. 

Later they both laid on the ground, thrashing each other without mercy. Nick just raised his fist for another blow on Virgil’s bruised face when he noticed out of the corner of his eye that he was approached by men with an alarming body size. Bobbies! He frantically jumped up and bolted out of the bar, followed by just like every staff member, the outraged guests and the constables. 

With panic he noticed that he couldn’t go back to the vent because a crowd had gathered there, so he ran out of the wide double doors of the main entrance and down the numerous stone stairs, past the golden statue of himself that seemed to sneer at him. He heard nothing but the pattering of feet and screams, all so loud as if the whole world was collapsing around him and he forced himself forward, praying he wouldn’t stumble because this would be his end. 

On the street the panic went on because everyone who was running raised suspicion, and Nick couldn’t stop. The fact that even hysterical Wellies didn’t like to seek into back alleys saved his live. This and the amount of trash bins in such alleys. He could hide there, but the whole town was still alarmed and the way he looked all shredded made it impossible for him to walk around.

He curled up into a ball, all rage had vanished and only his sorrows were left.

What a day! He had started this so hopefully and now he had experienced the certain end of his career. Birdie Callagher was ravishing! There was no way he could compete with her. No wonder Virgil was after her. And now, he had nowhere to go. His suite was lost for him, he couldn’t go back there and every other place fell flat too because he couldn’t show up anywhere looking like this. Not even in the tunnels, because Arthur was there. 

In fact, there was only one person Nick could show himself like this and that exact person hated him too. Nick was scared to show up there. But what chance did he have?

He waited until dawn before he left his hiding spot and made his way to the house he thought he’ll never visit again. It felt unreal to simply walk through the front yard and ring the bell. 

„Please be there…“ Nick whispered to himself.

The intercom cracked.

„Who’s there?“

Nick gulped.

„Morrie?“, he sighted into the intercom, because he didn’t want to make any noise and also because his voice failed him.

„It’s me…“

„Sorry, I can barely hear you…“ the intercom answered.

„It’s me, Nick,“ he said, raising his voice a little. For a split second he had considered to say ‚Norbert‘.

„Nick…“ the voice turned into a hiss. „get off my property right now, or I’ll smash your brains in! This is my one and only warning!“

Nick flinched. It was even worse than he had expected.

„Please, this is an emergency! The bobbies are chasing me, together with half the town! You have to let me in!“

The intercom silenced and Nick feared that Morrie wouldn’t answer. When the other man spoke again, his voice was more like an upset whisper.

„Please, tell me you didn’t kill someone…“

„What? No…what gives you that idea?“, Nick stuttered, having an unsettling flashback to the moment Bates had accused him too. Who was telling people he was a murderer?

„Rumors“, he simply said. „Well, if all is fine and dandy, why don’t you ask your fans for help? I bet they’d love to save their hero.“

„I’d do that, but…but…“, Nick stammered desperately, looking at himself.

„Please, Morrie, I have nowhere to go!“ He curled his fingers into his dirty hair and a sob escaped him.

„You should audition for the theater, they’d love that.“

„Please, they think I’m a downer. They’ll chase me off the town. Or lock me in Hayworth’s Lab. Please, help me,“ Nick begged and sobbed more while the intercom fell quiet again.

Finally, Morrie gave a loud sight.

„Fine. I’m coming.“ 

Suddenly Nick felt very nervous and was busy cleaning his face until the door opened.

and the slender figure of Morrie Memento stepped out. At the sight of Nick he quickly covered his eyes with one hand.

„Whoa, you really buckle down to convince me, do you?“

„With these rags?“, Nick asked, playing dumb and holding up his arms. „I didn’t know you like that.“ He tried a smile but Morrie only gave him a gloomy look and pointed at the open door.

„Come in,“ he said and Nick obeyed. 

He watched the other man lock the door and felt quite lost in his corridor, not knowing what to say. Morrie turned around again and led him up the stairs into the first floor where he had a guestroom. 

„You stay here for the night,“ he ordered when Nick entered the room. „I swear, if you leave this room I’ll kick you out!“

„Alright,“ was everything Nick could say before Morrie shut the door in his face. 

Sorrowful, he walked over to the bed and slumped down on it, asking himself what he had expected. A happy reunion? Now he was at least safe and didn’t have to show his face around. But he wished he could tell Morrie that he was finished and all alone, he wished he had someone to listen. If only he hadn’t sold him out back then. He didn’t even remember what he exactly did and why, but according to Morrie’s reaction it must’ve been horrible. Morrie had always carried himself gracefully. He had never threatened to smash anyone’s brains in. And now all his sympathy for Nick was gone, there was nothing left but bitterness and hate. He wanted to run away, but he was trapped in here now, because of his own fault.

When he wiped his face with his sleeve he heard that Morrie started to play the piano downstairs. The sound was damped and quiet but it reminded him of a long forgotten time, when he still had his old band and he used to sit next to Morrie, listening to his ideas and figuring out songs together.   It had been fun. Morrie used to tease Nick because he couldn’t read music and Nick took revenge by saying he couldn’t write a single song that wasn’t a twenty-minutes long monster that no one could listen to without knotting all his synapses together. The memory made him chuckle, but it felt wrong because tears still ran down his cheeks.

He wished he wouldn’t be locked away in here and he could sit next to Morrie again. What remained for him now was closing his eyes and listening to his music as long as he played. 

For a very long moment there was only him and the music until Nick opened his eyes again in surprise, believing he recognized the melody. He could be hearing things of course, could be one of their old songs or an illusion, because he barely heard it. He had to get closer. Morrie had forbidden him to leave the room, but he wouldn’t notice while he was playing, right? 

So Nick sneaked out and sat down at the edge of the stairs to listen carefully. He was sure it wasn’t an old song, but a melody he thought he heard before. He was utterly surprised to find it here. Where did Morrie pick it up? Curiously, he descended the stairs, sat down on the floor and closed his eyes, trying to recall the memory that was hiding from him so stubbornly. For some reason he had to think about a foggy night, wet cobblestone and quick footsteps as if someone was running away. Was it himself? He normally didn’t go for walks outside in the night, except that one time when he got immediately caught by that Parade guy. 

Confused, he wiped his forehead and opened his eyes again, only to realize that the music had stopped. He jumped up but it was too late. Morrie came out of the room, came to a halt and stared at Nick in disbelief. 

Nick held up his hands in defense. „Morrie…don’t be mad. I can explain…“

„You spied on me…“, his former friend whispered angrily.

„No, I…I just wanted to hear you play…“ Nick took one step backwards. 

„I let you in my house and you have nothing better to do!“, Morrie yelled. „…but this time you won’t steal from me! Not again! This time I’m prepared!“ He pulled out a syringe that was slightly bigger than the ones Nick used.

„No!“, Nick screamed and dashed up the stairs. Being still tired from the last chase and climbing the stairs with the last bit of his strength, he was completely out of breath when he reached the first floor. Knowing that he couldn’t keep this up he ran into the guest room and crouched under the bed in fear. Shortly after, Morrie stormed in and Nick didn’t dare to breathe. However he couldn’t stop the tears that ran down his face. This whole day was horrible and it was all so unfair! It wasn’t even Morrie’s song, he only took it from somewhere and merged it into his own. Nick pressed his face down on the floor and silently cried into the carpet. It didn’t take long until Morrie found him.

„Hello Nickie, time to take your medicine!“

Nick yelled and squeezed himself against the wall but Morrie succeeded to catch his arm.

„Come out, Nickie, I promise it only stings a little, and then you’ll be blessed with oblivion!“

He pulled Nick’s arm closer, turned it around and pushed back the sleeve.

„No, please don’t do this!“, Nick cried and pulled at his arm in panic. „I don’t want forget! I don’t want to forget what we had, I don’t want to forget that I saw you again, I don’t want to forget that I miss you!“

The grip on his arm loosened and the hand that held the syringe stopped moving.

„I miss you, Morrie…“, Nick sobbed. „Please, you can kick me out, but leave me the memory.“

Finally, the other man let go of him and Nick quickly pulled his arm back and curled up. He noticed that Morrie slumped down on the ground next to the bed.

„Shit…“, he whispered with a shaking voice.

Nick still didn’t move, waiting for Morrie to decide on his fate.

„I won’t kick you out…But for your own sake,…don’t eavesdrop again…,“ Nick heard him say. The anger vanished from his voice and made way for something that sounded more like hesitancy.

„Thank you, Morrie. You’re saving my life,“ Nick said, carefully minding every word.

„The melody…will you use it?“ There was something bitter in Morrie’s voice now.

„I think I’ve heard it before…“, Nick replied, trying to get the answer his head won’t give him.

„Someone hummed it from a rooftop, what is rather strange,“ Morrie gave a bitter laugh.

„I won’t use it. I promise.“

Morrie sighted deeply and slowly stood up.

„If you want to take a shower…well, you know where it is.“

With that weird dismissal, he left Nick alone again. But to be fair, after hiding in a bin two times Nick really needed a shower. His legs were still shaking when he walked along the corridor to the bathroom. He avoided to look into the mirror while he took off the dirty suit and stepped into the shower. The hot water was very comforting, even if it hurt a little in the wounds. Into the soft rushing of the water he hummed the melody the way he remembered it, wondering what kind of a person would walk on a rooftop. Could only be someone crazy. 

After showering the force of habit took over him and he looked into the mirror, causing himself to startle backwards. He barely recognized himself. His shorter, darker hair was completely messed up so he combed it with his fingers as good as he could. He didn’t dare to touch anything of Morrie’s stuff after all.

Back in the guestroom he laid down on the bed and stared sadly at the ceiling, the feeling of loneliness taking over him again. Thinking about everything that had happened today, he could certainly say that he had lost the last few friends he had left in the world. Virgil had given up on him, and even if he hadn’t recognized him in the Avalon, Nick would have to deliver him something convincing to get a second chance. And from where should he get that? His mind was still empty, he lost Sally as his muse and whatever he had dreamed about Arthur had vanished into thin air. His heart ached when he thought about it and he couldn’t even numb himself with party favors and spend the rest of his life in dense felicity because he now had an overseer who would bring him to Hayworth if he broke the rules again. 

Perhaps he should break his promise and use the mysterious song. He needed it much more than Morrie did…

No, no, no!

He slapped his forehead.

Bad Nick! Very, very, bad Nick! This is the reason why you have no friends!

 - read the rest on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/22737214/chapters/55428778

[roseamongroses]

Winners Among the Losing: (5) City Secrets (Sittin’ Secrets)

Summary:It wasn’t a matter of whether or not they were worthy.It was a matter of who wanted it more. And now they were firmly on the wrong side of history. A history of unfathomable powers and all-knowing immortals, ancient forests and beasts, and a Stranger who wanted to challenge it all.

Vibes/ Tags:time is irrelevent, homophobia who?, magic and beasts, demigods

Warnings: Imprisonment, Mentions of execution, Blood/ injuries,  Mentions of past Death, repression, cursing, 

Characters: Deceit(Eden) Sanders, Remy Sanders, Logan Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Patton Sanders, Roman Sanders, Emile Picani

Ship: Roceit

Ao3

1) (2)   (3)  (4)  (5)

The Stranger dangled keys, “Get up, bitches,” and he offered a hand.

Eden groaned, blocking the sun from his eyes, “What…?” he moved to get up, but was trapped. Roman firmly attached to the non-bloody side of his waist.

When Eden moved to remove their hands, they tightened their grip with a soft, “No.”

The Stranger raised an eyebrow.

Eden rolled his eyes, managing to pry Roman’s hands off with minimal whining, before scooping him up, Roman’s face buried in his shirt. He somewhat managed to grab the Stranger’s free hand, and a flash of light engulfed them.

When they reappeared, it was thankfully not another forest, but rather a corridor lined with doors of a variety of muted browns, the air stale and thoroughly lived in. Seeing the environment change, Roman was now more awake, arms looped around Eden’s shoulders looking unimpressed.

The Stranger clicked his tongue, opening the door, “You shouldn’t stay in the hearth anymore,” he explained, “Waking and destroying something that old and territorial draws a lot of unnecessary attention.”

“You mean my brother.” Roman drawled, sliding from Eden’s arms and slinking into the room without another word.

Eden shuffled into the room, carefully looking over the wide single bed and tapered wallpaper. While it seemed relatively clean, everything did when compared to the musty forest floor of the universe’s forgotten playground. The foreignness of everything clung to every surface, with the lights being just dim enough to seem off, and the outside world making just enough noise to seem present.

After inspecting around for awhile, Roman wandered into a smaller room, the sounds of running water following.

Roman poked his head out, “Sorry-- forgot to ask. Did you want to bathe first?” He gestured to the browning, yellowed areas of Eden’s waist. The shirt he had tied over it hanging by threads.

“Huh,” He blanked, “I guess I didn’--”

“No need for that, Sanders,” The Stranger cooly injected, “He’s not staying here anyways; this room is all for you.”

Roman’s nose curled, “Ok, wow, rude.” He looked at the Stranger as if he were as mundane as the peeling wallpaper itself, “And that makes no sense. How is he supposed to ‘keep an eye on me’ if he isn’t near me.”

Eden cocked his head at that. Maybe Roman wasn’t as asleep as they’d thought.

The stranger waved a hand, chair materializing beside him, “He can sit in the hall while you sleep.”

“He can sleep in here.”

“There’s only one bed.”

“Oh my god,” Roman mocked, hand pressed to his forehead to swoon, “There’s-- gasp-- only one bed,” before his frown returned, “I grew up with five sisters who were never told no, I think I can handle sharing a bed.”

The Stranger’s lips twitched, a long stretch of silence engulfing the room. Eden would be horrified-- that is, he would be if he hadn’t wished he could say that to the man as well, without getting the nearest water source redirected at his head. Roman didn’t seem worried, impatiently tapping his foot, more concerned over his running water more than anything.

“Okay.” The Stranger finally said, Eden becoming uncomfortably aware of his stare. He turned around, disappearing before even passing through the door.

With him gone, Roman’s shoulders slumped, “I swear…” he mumbled, looking Eden up and down once more, “Anyway, let’s get that cleaned up properly.”

“You don’t need to--”

“I want to.”

--

Roman shifted, his breathing slow.

Eden was still mulling over earlier today, trying to make sense of… this.

Roman didn’t seem like the sharing type. He was probably used to getting everything he wanted without a second thought, so it was a safe assumption to make. And it certainly didn’t make sense for Roman to care about Eden or his well being. The Stranger said Roman liked Eden, but the question was... to what extent?

“Stop thinking so loud.” Roman grumbled, “And just ask.”

Eden rolled over, propping himself on his elbows, “There is no way you knew that.”

Roman’s lips quirked, eyes remaining closed, “And you know me so well?” His hands trailed Eden ’s bare arm, a shiver of scales following the pattern obediently.

“I want to,” Eden admitted, “Afterall, if I’m going to be watching your ass, I at least need to know something ‘bout this brother of yours.”

Roman’s eyes flew open, scandalized, “Gross.”

“Roman, come on.” Eden poked his sour face, “You can’t let a man into your bed and not tell him your tragic backstory. That’s just not proper etiquette.” He mocked. He noted that, despite being so clingy, Roman never quite met his gaze anymore.

“We’ve been sleeping on the same forest floor for the past few weeks- I doubt this is hardly any different.”

“Oh?” Eden smiled, twirling one of Roman’s curls, the motion causing Roman to falter.

“Uh- yea- yeah I’d hardly call us lovers-”

Eden decided to take a bit of a risk. His free hand tangled in Roman’s curls as he leaned down closer to Roman’s face, “I guess we do have a unique situation…”

“So- so some things are better not shared, right? ” Roman stammered, wide eyed. Roman was very much aware of how close they are and Eden may have lingered for a bit longer than he intended. He may have considered briefly taking another risk.

Roman’s lips were parted slightly, fingers still tracing patterns in Eden ’s arm, and for once he wasn’t looking away from Eden . Eden could easily lean in, he could easily tug them closer. He could probably get away with doing a lot more, if he were to be honest.

But Eden pulled back all the same, “Of course,” he said, tucking Roman’s hair behind his ear before rolling back over, “G’night Roman,”

A pause, and then, “...Goodnight,” Roman said, withdrawing his touch as well, if not more reluctant.

So that answers one question.

---

Tracking down Roman was usually an obnoxious affair, but it was certainly not the hardest job Logan has been tasked with. The finding was never an issue, more so the convincing. Apparently simply asking someone to go back to their stone prison did not always work.

He scanned the local map raptly, “It doesn’t seem like he’s gone to the usually places,” he said, frowning.

Virgil made a surprised noise, peeking over Logan’s shoulder, “Huh that’s a first,” he snorted, “Maybe Princey’s getting smarter after all?”

Logan tolled his eyes at that, “Highly unlikely, seeing as he decided to escape— again,” he said, tucking the map underneath his arms, “Oh well, we should still drop by Remus’s grave to be sure he still isn’t around,”

At that Virgil gaze falter, “Of course, “ he said, hands fidgeting, “Hey Logan…”

“You don’t need to ask, Virgil, I’m fine with checking myself,” Logan said and Virgil visibly relaxed.

“Thanks,” Virgil said, stuffing his hands in his worn out jacket. He tossed his hair from his eyes in a careless way, “While you and Patton do that I can check the next town over,” he said, “I heard some rumors about some ancient text and stuff being transported through there and while that's not usually Roman’s gig, it’s certainly of interest,”

Logan’s eyes squinted a bit, mouth tight, “Take Patton with you,” he said and before Virgil could protest, he held up a single hand.

“Don’t be rude, Virgil, you still aren’t technically supposed to be here.” The threat was clear, “Anyhow, Patton doesn’t like visiting Remus’s grave anymore then you do.”

“More like he enjoys it too much,” Virgil grumbled, but cut himself off quickly.

Logan sighed, “As much as you’re right, we can’t change his nature completely, after all—it isn’t… humane. Just keep a close eye on him, he was kept by the Sanders for a reason.”

Virgil knew he was right.

Right now, Patton was really a solid option for finding Roman, and fast. It was something to do with being blood bonded or some mumbo jumbo about being the Goddess's--and by extension the Sanders’-- watchdog. But it was always a risk to use. Patton’s loyalty to Logan would never be as strong as his draw to a full blooded Sanders, and that was simply in his nature.

Virgil didn’t want to discount the progress Patton made, nor the trust they’ve been trying to build, but... the careful gaze Patton held on him as Logan parted ways was something that Virgil's instincts couldn’t ignore.

Not again.

--

Roman was never fond of cities or towns.

And it wasn’t like he’d seen a lot of them, he hadn’t really seen much beyond the walls of the estate. He’d just had an inkling he would never get along with them and he was right. It was loud, ugly, and infested with people.

“Ugh,” his lips curled, “Are you sure you can’t carry me?” he said watching as Eden squinted at the ‘phone’ Remy had left in the room that morning.

He was having much better luck with it then Roman, who simply wanted to destroy the infernal device, and was leading them throughout the town’s twist and turns looking for...something. They both weren’t sure if it was a person or a place. It was just a list with hastily scribbled English.

Eden didn’t glance up, “You shouldn’t be tired, ” he said, taking a sudden turn with Roman easily keeping up.

“Not physically of course,” Roman huffed, “But emotionally, I’m drained--and that damn curse gets stronger the closer a council member get.” he said, and only at that did Eden slow, eyes meeting Roman’s in a curious manner.

Roman eyes fluttered, “Please,” he whined, feeling himself sway, “We’ve been at it for most of the morning,”

“...Fine,” Eden sighed, “There should be a park nearby you can res-- Oof,” Roman had jumped into Eden ’s arms, And Eden scrambled to hook his arms underneath their thighs, “Roman we’re in public,” he hissed, now hyper aware of the stares they were now getting and the hot trail of scales creeping up his back.

Roman simply hooked his arms around Eden ’s neck, something that was becoming startling familiar. “What of it?” he murmured, eyes drooping again.

“Hey, hey, hey, “Eden pulled them off to the side, making his way towards the park, “Try and stay awake” he said eyes scanning the crowds critically and , curling the other closer his chest, “Roman…Roman…”

“Mmm,” Roman smiled, eyes slowly opening, “Say my name again, won’t you?”

---

Virgil may have lost Patton.

Which… isn’t the best way to start any assignment, but it happens. More frequently then they’d ever admit to the council. So it was silly to freak out, so fucking silly, but Virgil was freaking out. His eyes sharply scanning the crowd Patton effortlessly slipped into, looking for his shining white curls. He was tempted to manifest some more eyes, but---

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash, and like that relief rushed over him

“Pat,” he groaned, hands sliding down his face, “You just can’t do that!”

Patton blinked, “Roman’s close,” they said, turning on his heels promptly, his cloak falling like waves behind him.

“Uh,” Virgil balked, “Oh.”

Before he scrambled after, phone already dialing for Logan.

---

It was in times like these, did Eden really fucking hate the Stranger. Not only did he have to deal with the consistent reminder that he’s a ticking time bomb, but he had to run errands for his supposed teacher in hopes that he actually got arround to fucking teaching them.

Oh, and lets not forget the really obvious crush a demi-god had for him.

Eden … didn’t really hate that though. It was convenient, it was amusing, and Eden could admit it was kinda flattering. The thing is...it was distracting. It was really distracting.

Cause with another person, Eden could probably get away with being an asshole about it, and getting the job done. But seeing as Roman could quite literally crush him with a whim, Eden had to be a lot more patient. So that’s why he’s here, in the park letting Roman rest up. Not because he’s completely lost, and frustrated, or because Roman batted his eyelashes at him.

That would be ridiculous, and completely and utterly, unprofessional.

Eden glanced down, feeling Roman stir again, “You feel better?” he asked.

“Mmm,” Roman arched his back with a yawn, “We should...you should…” he hooked his fingers into the material of Eden ’s shirt, face scrunched up in concentration.

Eden ignored that, instead eyeing the phone’s clock, “It isn’t too late, we can still make up for lost time,”

“Eden.” Roman said, and something about his tone put him on edge.

“Yes…?”

Roman met his gaze, sharp, “Duck.”

---

Patton had barreled into the park without hesitation.

They’re luminescent skin burned in the light as they struck at once, the ground rippling under his touch. And amongst the smoke, and dust, and screams of traumatized civilians just enjoying life there was Roman, effortlessly floating amongst the rubble, his hair a beacon that Patton had narrowed on easily. Roman almost looked surprised to see them. But in an instant, the surprise was gone, and Roman dropped back into the smoke.

Virgil fell into position behind Patton easily, “Left,” he whispered.

Patton twisted their head unnaturally, dodging the incoming tree branch with ease, before darting forward. He forced himself not to look back, hoping Virgil was close behind. The branch barreled into the ground, it’s bark blackened unnaturally, before it sharply twisted around.

“Two right,” Virgil said, and Patton dropped to the ground at once. A tree splitting apart, crashing around them, Roman’s laugh not far behind. They’d scrambled up, just in time for the ground below them to shatter, Patton crushing an incoming branch and Virgil jumping swift over the accompanying mudslide, hanging on tight to a tree, before dropping and diving behind Patton at once.

“Is there someone else here? He...I...” Virgil was out of breath, “Something isn’t right,” he managed to say. His many eyes were frantic, their vivid purple shining in the cloudy smoke. Searching...scanning…

“...Above…” he whispered, horrified.

---

Roman was extremely tired.

With a wave of his hand, the dust clouds dropped at once. Roman staggered, limbs heavy with every step. He eyed the uprooted land. Its blackened soil and crumbling remains a bleak sight. He felt the curse’s lull encroaching stronger. He faintly noted that while he could feel the dampened presence of the other two, but they weren’t full fledged council members. So...

His brother should be here soon.

At that thought, he felt his hysteria finally bubble. His laughter spilling in hiccups, as he swayed, not quite fighting the darkness that crept in his vision.

It wouldn’t be long till they get him again, it never took long.

He drank each second greedily, trying to remember the cool of the air, and the grumble of the earth beneath him. He held on those memories tight, feeling hot tears spill down his face. He felt his knees buckle, but he never felt the hard embrace of the ground, nor the swift coolness of sleep.

He knew without looking it was Eden ’s hands that steadied him. They were unnaturally callous free, but strong, easily gripping Roman’s waist and pulling him to their chest.

Only then did Roman let his eyes close.

[onthepageoftears]

Break Free (Eric Effiong x Reader - Platonic) // Sex Education

A/N: Sorry I got this one out late, I had a long day or classes and was on my last string of work ethic lol but alas! My first Eric centered fic and it’s not as good as I wanted it to be; I feel like I could write so much about the mix of horror and relief that comes with coming out (and the unfortunate reality of being outed), but I really didn’t have time to delve too deep. Butttt i hope you guys like it anyway!  Also, I have quite a bit of requests that I’ll try to get to when I can (hopefully one a day still, but I’ll let you now if I can’t post one day). Anyway, thanks for all the support!

Request: a platonic eric x reader where the reader is seen as very nerdy and geeky, and she’s in the closet? maybe there’s angst and Eric accidentally lets her secret slip to everyone and they don’t speak for a while, but then when the whole thing happens with eric getting hurt, the reader goes to him to support him

Warnings: coming out, queer-shaming, dealing with sexuality, language, spoilers for 1x05

Words: 1,735

Please Don’t Plagiarize My Work!

Coming out is not easy.

You knew how hard it could be: the sweaty palms beforehand, the dry throat, nervous laughter, probably a bucket of tears. But no one could prepare you for actually coming out; not the youtube videos or the blog posts, not even your own imagination of worst case scenarios would be close to what actually happened.

What actually happened was much, much weirder. It still consisted of the nervous sweating and crying, but it was such an abrupt and unplanned experience. You’d think coming out would be a scripted scenario: in fact, you had planned your own coming out in your head many times. But when you and Eric were hanging out, him already plastered in makeup and you now being assaulted with his makeup brushes, you felt something shift within you. Something that you wouldn’t have guessed would happen in a million years.

“Eric,” you said, your voice just above a whisper. He was applying the blush to your cheeks, frowning when you moved your mouth. “I’m gay.”

He stopped brushing for a moment, looking in your eyes like he didn’t actually hear you say it. But when your eyes started to tear up, his face broke into a wide smile. “Welcome to the club.”

You laughed as he wiped a small tear that fell from your eye, feeling a sudden wash of relief fall over you. You were sweating more than you’d like to admit, but you didn’t care: you were free, at least a little bit, and it felt good.

“Now stop crying or you’ll ruin the mascara,” he joked, wiping another tear with a smile to match yours. You nodded and swallowed down your tears, taking a deep breath and looking back to Eric.

“I haven’t told anyone else yet,” you said simply as he applied some lipstick.

“Your secret is safe with me.” He sent you a wink, tilting your head slightly to see the eccentric makeup he had applied to your face. Suddenly, everything seemed like it could be alright, and getting rid of this secret wasn’t so bad after all.

That was until the party.

You were there because Eric told you to come, and even though you knew it was a bad idea, you went. After telling him your secret, everything seemed ten times better, and you thought, what the hell? What could possibly go wrong?

What could go wrong, did. Eric got drunk, tried to teach people how to give a blowjob, and accidentally spilt your secret.

You were standing next to him, trying to get him to stop his blowjobs-for-dummies class. This wasn’t what Maeve meant by getting clients, and you knew the untouchables were only making fun of him. But when you tried to tell him that, he turned to you, pushing you off him and laughing slightly. “Don’t worry,” he said, trying to whisper but failing miserably. “You don’t need to learn how to give a blowjob.”

“And why is that?” Anwar commented from behind the camera, sending a quirked brow in your direction.

“Because she’s-“ Eric stopped himself, realization flooding him. You stood, shocked, hoping no one would catch what he said. But, of course, they did.

Ruby turned to you, a devilish smirk on her face. “Are you a lesbian?” Your heart dropped at her words, eyes widening as the focus moved from your best friend to you.

“She is, isn’t she?” Anwar moved his camera so it was on you, catching the tears that sprang to your eyes. “It’s okay, no need to hide in the closet any more.”

Before you could think, you were rushing out of the room, ignoring the calls from Eric and the stares that burned into your back. Even as you left the house you felt like people were staring at you in the darkness, laughing at you. Coming out was supposed to be yours to decide, the time where you could finally stand up for yourself and be who you wanted to be. And tonight, that was ruined. This was a mistake, a horrible mistake, was all you could think on the walk home, only comforted once you made it to your bedroom and locked yourself in. 

When the weekend went by, most of it consisting of you hibernating under your covers (and ignoring your calls), you almost didn’t go to school. There was still a little bit of faith within you, which is what got you out of bed. Maybe the kids at the party forgot about your secret; maybe they would leave you alone, or Anwar’s phone would be lost in a tragic accident. But part of you knew the was wishful thinking, and when you were in school the next day, you tried to ignore the echo of Anwar’s video being played on everyone’s phone. Eric caught your eyes in the stairwell, but you were gone before he could speak to you, making your way to the bathroom to hide out, even for just a little while.

—

You still weren’t talking to Eric when his birthday came around. You two were best friends, and you knew you would have to confront him eventually. But everything hurt so much, and the whispers that followed you in the hallways didn’t help. At this point, you weren’t mad at him as much as you were mad at the world for making life so much more difficult. Still, you hadn’t hung out with him or Otis since the party, and your heart ached even more at the thought of missing Eric’s favorite annual Hedwig showing. You hadn’t received an invite, though, so you assumed Eric didn’t miss you too much.

You had just gotten out of the shower when you heard your phone ding. You unlocked it with one hand and took your towel off with the other. It was a text from Otis.

Have you heard from Eric?

You frowned, raking a hand through your still wet hair. No???, you wrote back, quickly following up with, why?

Before he could answer, you searched your notifications: five missed texts, three missed calls. You cursed, scrolling through the texts as you sent Eric a call.

Are you busy right now?

Can you call me?

Are you still mad at me?

I’m sorry about what happened, I swear I didn’t mean to

I need your help

“Fuck.” You bit your nails as you listened to the same voicemail over and over again. He wasn’t answering. He wasn’t answering, and he texted you. He texted you, and if he was hurt, it would be your fault.

You called Otis next, but of course, he didn’t answer either. You paced around your room, alternating between calling Otis and texting him, asking what was happening and why Eric wasn’t answering his phone. After ten minutes of no reply, you decided the only thing you could do was find Eric.

So, you went to his house.

When his father answered, you noticed he was a little surprised to see you. It was late, and you hadn’t talked to Eric in over a month. Still, you smiled nervously at the man in front of you.

“Hi, Mr. Effiong. Is Eric here?” You shifted uncomfortably in your spot; even though you had known him since you were very young, Eric’s dad was still quite menacing. He looked up the stairs with his stone face, but you could feel the hesitance in his eyes. Why wouldn’t he want you to come in?

After a second, he turned back to you and moved aside for you to scooch past him. “He’s upstairs.” He said simply, and you nearly ran past him, running up the familiar stairs to Eric’s room. You barely knocked before opening the door, gasping at the boy in front of you.

He was in the middle of wiping off makeup, and you couldn’t ignore the streaks of tears on his face.

“Eric?” You whispered, suddenly realizing where you were. You hadn’t talked to Eric for so long, and you just expected him to be okay with you barging in? What if he kicked you out, told you he didn’t care about you anymore?

But your thoughts of self doubt dissipated when you focused at the boys’ face. Tears dripped down his cheeks, making their own path through his makeup. The only other time you had seen Eric cry was when he fell off the monkey bars and ripped his favorite shirt; and now here you were, watching the boy who was so brave crumble in front of you.

“Y/N.” He stood up from his desk and walked over to you, enveloping you in his famous Eric hug. You responded quickly, wrapping your arms behind his back and muffling into his shoulder.

“I saw your texts and I was so worried and I didn’t know what happened so I came over here and I’m sorry for not talking to you or being there for your birthday-“ You pulled back and wiped your own tears from your face, just noticing the scar on Eric’s cheek. It looked fresh, and you looked back to Eric’s eyes with a frown. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” he whispered, averting his gaze. You knew it wasn’t nothing, but before you could say anything, he looked back at you. “I’m sorry. About everything.”

“I know,” you said, dragging him back to his desk and taking a wet wipe to help him remove his remaining makeup. After a second, you spoke. “I am too.”

“Why are you sorry?” He winced as you went closer to his scar; you sent an apologetic smile back.

“For not talking to you about what happened. For missing your birthday.”

“Not a bit deal.” Eric shrugged, a sudden look of hurt flashing across his eyes. “Besides, you’re not the only one.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He shrugged. A pang of realization hit you. The text. “Otis?”

Eric averted his gaze, and you immediately felt the need to go kick Otis’ ass. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

You closed you mouth in a thin line and zipped it shut, quickly continuing to wipe gently at Eric’s face. You two sat there silently, both in your own heads, both glad that the other was there. Almost eerily, you locked eyes, immediately breaking your solemn faces with a wide smile. It felt nice, to be together again. Even in these circumstances.