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i-have-a-wonky-eye-too · 4 years ago

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A Princess. A Queen. A Wife. A Mother.

Medieval AU

Princess Y/N Stark of York New must marry a man chosen by her brother, by the time she is 21. Her brother's council have the perfect man in mind, one that is terrifying and hell bent on having his Queen. But Princess Y/N's heart belongs to another, and luckily so does her hand in marriage.

'A princess is far more powerful than a king, my love. You have the power of merging families and kingdoms. You have the power of carrying hopeful heirs to the throne. You have more power than you know...'

Bold italics are flashbacks.

Series warnings: swearing, medieval views on women, arranged marriage, smut, bloodshed, violence, 18+ readers only

Part warnings: none

~~~~~~~~~~

Part 1

Sometimes you found yourself wondering if you were living the life you should be.

You never had the chance to build a relationship with your mother, a relationship you were desperate for the older you grew. During childbirth due to her age and complications, she passed away. And for that reason, your father couldn't stand the sight of you. You were his second child and a girl no less, there was no need for you or the loss of his beloved wife and Queen.

Although your father died when you were just five years old, the most part of you was glad of it. You had hardly any memories of him, but you were certain you were unhappy in his presence.

Your older brother and Crowned Prince of York New, Tony, reassured you daily that your father did love you but you never quite believed him. Even when Tony had been crowned the King of York New, you were unsure he was telling the truth. You knew your brother loved you, unlike your father, it showed in his brown eyes that he did.

"It's just you and I, Little Princess." Tony smiled lovingly and softly at you as he brushed away your fallen tears.

You sniffled, burying your face in his chest. "A-Are... Are you... you, go-going to sen-send me a-away?" You sobbed.

Tony sat back on the cold stone floor of the throne room and pulled you into his lap. "No, Little Princess, no! You're going nowhere, you hear? I need you by my side. You're my Queen." He whispered pressing a kiss to your forehead. "You and me, okay? You and me."

~~~~~~~~~~

Years and years of Tony's rein passed by before you knew it, but Tony kept his word. You were by his side. Even when his advisors or council tried to have him send you away, he made it clear that you were going nowhere until you were 21 years old.

Even when he took under his wing a young orphaned boy, Tony made it clear you were staying put.

The kingdom was in chaos. There had been a attack the castle and surrounding villages, but your armies were stronger, powerful, and mighty. You had been locked away in the highest tower to protect you whilst your brother fought bravely alongside his men. They fought day and night, long into the following day.

By the time word was sent for you to be taken down to the throne room, you were fast asleep.

"Princess Y/N," A soft voice whispered as you were shaken awake.

Your small eyes blinked open and looked upon the face of the guard that had been assigned to looking after you. "Happy?" You yawned, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

Sir Hogan, or Happy as you called the slightly grumpy man, chuckled softly. "Come, Princess, His Majesty as called for you."

"Tony is safe?" You jumped up, running for the door.

You ran as fast as your little eleven years old legs would take you and didn't stop until you reached the large wooden doors of the throne room. The guards opened the door barely in time for you to dash through them.

"Anthony!"

Tony grinned as he bent down and scooped you up in his arms, hugging you close to him as he held the back of your head. "Little Princess, I'm happy to see you."

You giggled pulling back and looking at his scratched and bruised face. "What took you so long?" You pouted.

Chuckles from the King's closest friends and Knights echoed around the room as the man himself placed you back on the floor. "My apologies, My Queen." He bowed to you making you grin. "I have someone for you to meet."

Your brow knitted together, "Oh?... the head of your enemy?"

More laughs echoed as Tony rolled his eyes as he stood. He held his hand out towards Sir James where a little boy about your age stepped out from behind him. "Princess Y/N, I'd like you to meet Peter... We're going to look after him." He smiled.

Your eyes widened a little. "... He's a boy." You pouted.

Tony nodded, "He is."

"You're getting rid of me, aren't you?"

The young boy gasped, shaking his head. "Don't be silly, Princess. Everyone knows you're not allowed to go anywhere."

You scowled at the boy. "I'm never silly..." You folded your arms and looked away.

Sir James rolled his eyes with a scoff. "Definitely your sister." He muttered so only the King could hear.

Tony shot his friend a glare. "Little Princess," Tony knelt in front of you. "This boy's family was... killed. He had no parents already, but his Aunt died tonight. There was no one left to look after him, the village was, practically destroyed... What would you have me do? Send him away? Let him die?"

You let out a sigh, looking back to Peter. "Do you like horses?"

He nodded, "I like swords too."

Your eyes lit up. "What about bow and arrows?"

Peter nodded, "I'm the best." He said triumphantly, crossing his arms over his chest.

You scoffed, "You haven't seen me, yet."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah."

~~~~~~~~~~

As the years rolled on, your friendship and bond with Peter only grew, as did the council's worries. They decided it was time Tony took a wife and gave the kingdom a Queen once more. Another feeble attempt of them trying to have you sent away. 'It's time you had an heir, there's no need to have the Princess here.' And as he always would do, Tony told them no. You were still the rightful heir to the throne whilst he had no Son and Heir.

You loathed this part of the evening, where one man tried to up the other with gifts, all to impress the King and make himself look superior to others.

Tony leaned over the side of his throne and nudged you, "Look happy, it's your... cow statue, birthday gift." He mocked the gift currently being presented to you, just as bored as you were by the process.

You lowered your face towards your lap and bit back your giggle.

"His Royal Highness, Prince Steven of Brook," The court announcer introduced the next person to present their birthday gift to you.

"King Anthony, Queen Virginia," The blond-haired Prince bowed before you.

"Prince Steven," The King and Queen greeted their friend, happy to see him after so long.

"How are you this evening, old friend?" Tony smiled.

Prince Steven smiled in return, "Very well, thank you, Your Majesty. How are you?"

Tony nodded, "About ready for another drink," He breathed out glancing down to his empty cup.

You let out a small snicker trying to keep up your ladylike facade, knowing Queen Virginia or Pepper as she was known to her close family, would scold you for being improper.

Prince Steven turned his gaze to you and bowed again, "Princess, may I say you're looking breathtakingly beautiful tonight," He teased, knowing how flustered you could get.

You smiled through your blush. "You do flatter me, Prince Steven."

He let out a soft chuckle. "May I present to you my gift?"

"You may,"

Prince Steven nodded and turned his attention to the servant waiting patiently. He took a velvet square box from the young boy and approached you. "Happy Birthday, Princess." He smiled softly at you as he handed you a box and took your hand in his and bowed to you. "I hope you find it as beautiful as I do. My only fear is, your beauty will outshine and render it ugly." He pressed his lips against your knuckles and made you blush once more.

"You're engaged, remember, Prince Steven," Tony teased, glancing over to the brunette woman who was watching the interaction like a hawk.

"Anthony," Queen Virginia scolded your brother from his other side, putting a smile on your face.

"Please ignore my brother, Your Highness... Fool," You hissed playfully at the King beside you, making him chuckle.

Prince Steven stepped back with his hands up to show no hard feelings. "I know what His Majesty can be like, Princess." He chuckled softly, "Please, open your gift, and ignore his Royal Majesty the fool." Prince Steven grinned mischievously.

Tony scoffed dramatically, making you giggle before you opened the velvet box carefully and immediately gasped, "Oh, my," You ran your fingers over the beautiful necklace that laid inside.

"Prince Steven, this is most beautiful." You smiled, memories of your first time in Brook rushing back to you.

Prince Steven let out an audible sigh of relief. "Is it the same colour? As the sea in Brook."

You nodded, looking up to meet his waiting gaze. "...Yes. Thank you,"

Prince Steven smiled, "You're welcome, Princess. I'll allow you to get back to your other guests." He bowed again, "Happy 16th Birthday, Princess," He whispered before he left to be by his fiance's side.

The guests continued to present their gifts to you and the King, and although they were all unique and beautiful in their own way none were as beautiful and meaningful as Prince Steven's.

"His Royal Highness, Prince Brock of Lower East,"

Your blood ran cold and the great hall fell silent at the mention of that man's name. The dark-haired Prince smirked as he approached you, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Your Majesties," He bowed (if that's what you could call it) to your King and turned his attention to you. "How beautiful you look tonight, Princess Y/N."

You held your head high keeping your gaze fixed ahead of you. "Thank you,"

Prince Brock turned his attention to Tony, "I do hope you've taken my request into consideration, Your Majesty."

Tony's brow knitted together. "There's no need, Prince Brock. My sister is not of age yet and, I'm sorry to say this but you are not who I intend for her to marry."

You gasped loudly drawing the attention of those closest to you, turning in your throne to gape at your brother. "Tony, please-"

He held his hand up to silence you, "Present your gift to the Princess, and we'll discuss no more of this business."

"Very well." Prince Brock nodded with a tightly set jaw as he clicked his fingers at the servant. He snatched the much smaller box from the shaking boy's hands. "It seems somewhat pointless now." He stepped forwards and placed the box in your hands, letting his fingers graze yours. "But, I will buy you a thousand and more if it means you becoming my wife."

"I said, enough!" Tony slammed his fist against the armrest of his throne, it echoed around the silent hall.

"Please, my love," Queen Virginia placed a comforting hand on her husband's arm to calm him.

You scowled down at the box, opening it to find a hideous engagement ring. "I can not accept this-"

"You must. It is your birthday gift... nothing more, thanks to your King."

"Thank you, Prince Brock," You thanked him before Tony could speak, sensing he would most likely order his head to be off or something to that effect. You sighed as you closed the box up, handing it back to the servant. You smiled kindly at him and thanked him.

Prince Brock eyed you before glancing over to where Prince Steven was stood with his fiance and his trusted best friend and Knight, Sir James Barnes. "You know, it's almost unfortunate, you being here tonight."

"I'm afraid I don't follow, Prince Brock. How can my 16th birthday celebrations be unfortunate?" You scowled at the man.

"Well... on one hand, we are graced with your ever-growing beauty and charm, but if it was not for the unfortunate death of your father and King, brought on by those... we shall not mention, you would not be sat where you are." He smirked triumphantly as you visibly paled at the mention of your father.

You felt Tony shift beside you and out the corner of your eye, you saw Sir James begin to disappear away from prying eyes. Anger boiled up inside you, "HOLD YOUR TONGUE!" You shouted and raised to your feet before Tony could stop you. Silence fell over the court as you glared daggers at the prince before you. "How dare you, speak of my father? How dare you show my family and I disrespect, in our own Castle, our own Kingdom.

"The past is the past, Prince Brock, and we do not judge others today by the actions and misunderstandings of others then," You turned and moved over to the servant snatching the Prince's gift back. "If you can not show my family and I the respect we deserve and can only continue to spit evil among our celebrations then I must ask you to leave, Prince Brock, and take your unwanted gift back." You heavily dropped it into his hand.

Silence resumed throughout the great hall as King Anthony stood from his throne and stood behind you. "You heard the Princess, Prince Brock. Leave." He nodded his head towards nearby guards. "Please escort Prince Brock out of the Castle and our Kingdom." Tony placed his hand on your shoulder as the Prince was removed.

"You'll regret this, Stark!"

Once Prince Brock had been removed, you moved over to where Sir James Barnes was stood with Prince Steven and his fiance, hoping the celebrations could continue.

"Sir James, would you care to dance?" You smiled kindly up at him.

Sir James began to blush and glanced to Prince Steven who was being tugged closer by his fiance. "Shouldn't you be asking one of the princes to dance, Your Highness?"

"There'll be plenty of time for that, Sir James. But for now, I would like to dance with a kind man, I hope will be a good friend of mine one day." You smiled.

Sir James began to grin before he nudged Prince Steven's side. "Tough luck, Princey." He jabbed at the blond prince making you smile.

Prince Steven chuckled, "Have fun, Bucky." Prince Steven smiled warmly at you with a nod. "Princess,"

You nodded, "Prince Steven," You looked to his fiance with a faux smile, "Princess Margret."

Sir James lead you into the middle of the crowd as the music began to play, and slowly the two of you began to move together.

The two of you danced in comfortable silence until Sir James cleared his throat, "I must thank you for your kind and brave words, Your Highness." Sir James whispered.

"They were the truth, Sir James."

He nodded, "Still. I know what my father did all those years ago, isn't the easiest thing to forgive."

You shook your head. "But it doesn't reflect the person you are." You smiled up at him. "You're a good man, Sir James... a far better man than Prince Brock." You reached up and pressed a kiss to his cheek before excusing yourself and left through the french windows with Peter.

"Buck?" Prince Steven approached the brunet knight. "Everything okay?"

Sir James nodded and turned to face his best friend and Prince of Brook. "More than, Your Highness."

"You seem to be getting on very well with the Princess, James." Princess Margret spoke from beside her fiance with a hidden look.

Sir James nodded, "She's a very kind young princess, Your Highness."

Prince Steven nodded, "That she is, Bucky." He smiled as he turned to watch you walk out of sight into the gardens.

#steve rogers #king steve rogers #Medieval au #King Steve Rogers x Princess reader #Knight Bucky Barnes #Knight Sam Wilson #King Tony Stark #Medieval avengers

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tales-unique · 4 years ago

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FAITH, LOST

Chapter 1

Sheltered, that was your life. You had been born in the village and knew nothing of the world that lay beyond its borders. There were days that you would gaze up at the snow covered mountains and wonder, but ultimately give up. You know you would never have the nerve to leave everything behind. Not that you had much of a choice in the matter.

Cloistered by overprotective parents, your mother and father had raised you to be a respectable, religious woman, devoted to Mother Miranda and the four Lords under her command. Your faith was central to your being and, as your mother would often tell you, you would be rewarded for such candor in due time. Yet, as time went on and you bloomed into a young woman, you began to question when your time would come. Many friends had been taken from you in service of Mother Miranda and, despite your unwavering loyalty, you could feel envy seeping into your heart. Your faith never faltered, you never once spoke out against her wishes, and still you were not chosen. You're on your knees, giving praise and thanks at the altar when the church bells ring, summoning all the faithful to the Chapel. Moving with purpose you hurry to join the congregation, their numbers fewer than there were last time as a result of the Lycan attacks, smoothing down your simple dress as you take your place inside. There Mother Miranda stands in all her holy glory and you feel your chest swell with awe and pride. It had been years since your parents were taken but you felt nothing but happiness that they had gone on to serve such a revered and holy idol. You smile up at her in awe and wonder as she speaks to you all, arms open wide in welcome. She praises your commitment and resolve to follow the faith and calls on you all to offer another to her cause. In your ignorance you desperately pray to be chosen, but your voice is drowned out by the cacophony of the other devotees. But when all seems lost you look up, tears in your eyes, to see Mother Miranda looking directly at you. "You, child," she beckons you forward with a gentle flourish of her hand. Mother Miranda is speaking directly to you . You feel as though you're dreaming as you walk the aisle, coming to kneel before her. Your eyes never leave her, overcome with euphoria. She looks at you lovingly and touches your cheek with a gentle hand, your lashes fluttering. "Yes, you're perfect," she smiles, raising her arms like the Virgin herself as she addresses the others that you are the she will be taking. Finally your steadfast devotion rewards you after all these years. You grin in naive excitement at the congregation, who clap and smile and praise her name. But it doesn't reach their eyes. They are envious of you but are trying their utmost to appear virtuous before Mother Miranda. They have no idea that it’s them who are the lucky ones. Like those who have been taken before you, Mother Miranda gently covers your eyes with a silken handkerchief, rendering you blind and reliant on the firm grasp on your shoulder as she guides you to a destination unknown. The temperature drops and you feel uneven ground give way to hard stone beneath your feet and you feel unease settling in your bones. You haven't ventured far from the village, given the threat of the Lycans, Vampires and other things that plague your home, but you hold fast to your belief in Mother Miranda and that she wouldn't lead you astray. Suddenly, you're gripped by something strong and heavy, forcing you to a standstill. Instinct kicks in and you try to fight, to run, to do anything to get away, but it’s futile as your feet skid uselessly in the snowy dirt. Hands roughly grasp your hands and pull your arms out straight and gasp sharply when you feel a sudden cold biting at your wrists. Something cold, heavy and binding. Panic clouds your mind as you try to pull your hands free, turning this way and that when you no longer feel the comforting weight of her hands guiding your shoulders. Suddenly you’re let go, the attacking presence leaving you, and you try to catch your bearings. "Mother Miranda? Mother Miranda!" You cry out desperately and when you receive no reply your panic multiplies. Shivering, you strain to hear anything that gives away where you are or who is out there with you. When you hear nothing of value a strangled cry leaves you as the anxiety that this could be your death weighs heavily on you. You have no idea that this is exactly what she wants. "This way, child!" Her voice is a beacon in the darkness and you turn quickly to where you perceive her to be, only to be thrust into dizzying vertigo as your foot teeters on the edge of nothingness. You scream, scrambling back so quickly that you stumble and fall. You grunt with pain at where you land against the snow lined steps, blinking owlishly when light suddenly blinds your vision. In your haste the silken handkerchief, your makeshift blindfold, has been pushed down. It hangs limply around your neck while you blink to adjust to the light. "Oh God," you whimper, finally seeing just how close to the edge you had been. The village is a beautiful vista before you, the snow-laden ground glittering in the sunlight, but the danger is far too real for you to be able to admire it. The cold is still bracing as you quickly scramble to your feet and you realise as you struggle that your wrists are locked together in iron shackles. Confusion blooms within you, your brow creasing as you stare down at the unforgiving metal. Had you not shown Mother Miranda that you were completely devout? That you were willing to give her your very life if she asked it of you? Maybe you were being punished. Your blood runs cold at the thought. Determined to prove otherwise you venture up the steps with vigor, bracing against the cold. At the top you are confronted with an old, dilapidated Church not dissimilar to the one inside the village. You feel drawn to it, hurrying towards the large, wooden doors. Pushing them open doesn't take much effort, given how rotten they are, and you quickly enter to seek shelter from the cold. "At last, the little mouse finds her way." "It's about damn time!" "She made it! She made it!" "Look, she's here, Mother!" The voices talk over one another and you recognize them instantly; the four Lords of the village. "Welcome, child," Mother Miranda smiles at you from the raised platform at the head of the Church, "I'm so glad that you made it." "Mother Miranda, m-my Lords," you stutter, partly from the cold, quickly dropping to your knees and bowing your head out of respect. At your side a strange and terrifying doll dressed in a ratty white wedding dress skitters about, giggling maniacally and clapping her little, chipped porcelain hands. "Oh, you're very pretty! I like this one, Mother! Can I have her? Please, pretty please?" She chatters excitedly, screeching when she's pushed aside. "No, Mother, I should have this one! You promised!" Whines the grotesque, hunched monster, staring at you with glassy eyes. You know of Lord Moreau, from the Reservoir, as you recall his picture on the altar, just like Lady Beneviento and her sinister doll from her secluded mountain top estate. You whimper despite your best intentions, not wanting to offend, feeling your body sag slightly in relief when Mother Miranda waves her hand and forces them to leave you be. You blink up at her, tears stinging your eyes. You don't understand what is happening and you're afraid. "What a fragile little thing," a giant of a woman scoffs from where she sits off to the side, watching you with piercing gold eyes. She takes a deep drag from her cigarette, allowing the pale smoke to billow from her crimson lips as she observes you. You feel like an animal being paraded at auction, nothing at all like the splendor told to you in earnest by other members of the congregation. "Mother Miranda I must insist that I take her. My daughters are in need of a maid and some new entertainment , and this one looks so delightfully fresh ." The grin she gives betrays her predatory nature, shining through her beautiful and regal facade. Lady Dimitrescu, the Countess of Castle Dimitrescu, and one of the more revered Lords. You swallow nervously, recoiling meekly under her gaze, though it does little to help. You can’t escape her intimidating stare. The last is Lord Heisenberg, who lounges silently on a pew opposite Lady Dimitrescu. You know little of him, but you know his scarred face well from his picture on the altar. He radiates an aura of discontent and malice, no doubt finding this all a waste of time from the way he scowls when he looks at you. You would never have thought Mother Miranda would choose someone like him to be a Lord, given how little regard he seems to give the whole affair, but looks are often deceiving here. "Heisenberg," Mother Miranda speaks, her voice taut, "have you no say?" "What? Her ?" He points to you with his cigar, a booming laugh rolling off his tongue as he stands. He sets down the large hammer he had slung across his shoulder with ease, your form jumping at how its weight splinters the wood of the floor with ease. "She wouldn't last a minute on my table," he drawls, stepping up to you. He stoops to regard you and on impulse you try to retreat from him. The attempt fails and he grabs your jaw roughly in his hand, jerking your head this way and that as he examines you. The leather of his glove is rich and smooth, the scent of gun oil and smoke tantalizing your senses. "Oh you ignorant fool!" Lady Dimitrescu hisses, a wicked snarl on her lips, "she wouldn't be a test subject! She would be a servant !" "Why the fuck would I need a servant? All she'd do is get in the way!" Heisenberg snaps back, knocking you down with how roughly he shoves you away. He squares up to where the Vampire sits and Lady Dimitrescu is quick to rise to this blatant display of arrogance and disrespect. Her lips, painted a beautiful crimson, split to bare her teeth in a vicious hiss. “You wouldn’t know the first thing of what to do with her, you pathetic child !” She spits, “but then again, what would you know about having taste in staff in the first place?” “Oh, we know all about you tastes , you overgrown b—” "ENOUGH!" Your mouth hangs open and your eyes widen at the sight of Mother Miranda in all her splendor. Three pairs of magnificent, raven black wings extend from her back as she puts a swift end to the petty squabbling. Extending a hand out she motions for you to rise, an almost maternal smile upon her face. You don't know why a sudden sinking feeling of dread settles like a lead weight in your stomach, only that something sinister lingers as yet unseen. "My dearest one," she coos, taking your face gently in her hands when you stand before her. Her fingers are tipped in gold claws and are cold to the touch as they smooth over your cheeks. The black feathers shift ever slightly and you see more glimpses of the beautiful face of Mother beneath her gilded cage headdress. "You have been so loyal to me and my children, I know that you will be the perfect choice for this task." You swallow, suddenly feeling insignificant under the gazes of the Lords despite the uplifting words. Her hands, still tender in their endeavor, fall to your arms. She turns you gently, guiding you to your fate. The shock in the room is palpable when you are set in front of Heisenberg.

#RE #RE8 #RE 8 #Resident Evil #Resident Evil 8 #Resident Evil 8 Village #RE Imagine #RE Imagines #RE8 Imagine #RE8 Imagines #Resident Evil Imagine #Resident Evil Imagines #Karl Heisenberg #Karl Heisenberg Imagine #Karl Heisenberg Imagines #Karl Heisenberg x Reader #Heisenberg Imagine #Heinsenberg Imagines #Heisenberg x Reader

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pandoraimperatrix · 4 years ago

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caught between goodbye and I love you

DickKory | Pining | Eventual smut | Two shots | Post season 3 AU

Chapter 1: My heart is a sad affair

Chapter 2: Too many moonlight kisses seem to cool in the warmth of the sun

Kory’s hands slid from Dick’s head, massaging his temples and cheekbones, spreading little butterfly pecks around his face to let him breath between her hungry kisses. Then, her hands kept going down, kneading his broad shoulders, easing away any tension he might still have, he shivered as her long nails scratched his chest downwards until her fingers reached his trousers, popping the button of his fly.

“Kory, wait,” he managed to say, using all his willpower to hold her hand from going further.

“Hmm,” she made, her mouth was now sucking his earlobe, Jesus fucking Christ, that woman.

“Wha-“ She somehow managed to step further into his personal space, her thigh rubbed against his crotch and Dick had to suck a breath in. “What do you mean?” he asked again voice trembling, not sure of how he was able to keep coherent.

His heart sunk when she sighed and pulled her hand from his, he was an idiot, she clearly didn’t come to chat and he was ruining everything. But to his surprise, she didn’t escape from their embrace, just pulled her face from the curve of his neck, her now freed hand grabbing his chin to make him look at her. God, she was so gorgeous, and the demanding way she handled his body made his skin sizzle.

“I meant,” she started, her thumb on his lower lip, “that, what I said the other time, I… I lied. I don’t see you as a friend. Well,” she smiled, that gorgeous smile of her, equal parts angelical and full of promises of exciting dirty things. “I do. But not just a friend-”

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As much as her rambling added so much to her charm, since it was so rare to see Kory uncertain of her words, he had been holding all those feelings, for so long torturing himself with the reality in which she told him that she didn’t feel like that for him back, and now, out of the nowhere... He just couldn't let it all go and enjoy. That was not him. It had to be a catch, something wrong. And if he was right about that, maybe he was right about the other stuff too. About how he had been carrying his fear of losing her at any second.

So, he had to ask again. Any bitter truth is better than a sweet lie.

“Why?”

“Why?” she chuckled and then kissed his jaw lovingly, ready to go back to where they were.

“Kor… Why did you lie?” He coached, his voice low, he was barely managing to keep it together, but he needed to know.

“Oh…” her eyes lowered, and she trembled, that helped him to emerge his attention from the pool of desire he was drowning.

“Kory, there’s something happening, isn’t it?” She closed her eyes, a guilty expression taking hold of her beautiful face, Dick held her firmer, he was starting to panic. That was his confirmation; her presence in his life had always been so good to be true. He always knew that. All this time he had been blaming his paranoia on the chip on his shoulder and his broken heart, but he had been correct. He this was a goodbye.

“Kory, please,” he kissed her cheek, and pulled her for a full hug, desperate for her to prove him wrong once more. To laugh at his fatalistic ways and tell him to relax. “Talk to me.”

“I’m going back to my planet,” she said the phrase he feared the most, each word drilled into his heart, he didn’t answer anything, just held her firmer, as if he could keep her forever like that “I can’t stay here.”

He sucked air in, and pulled apart just enough to see her beautiful face. Shiny tears stained her cheeks.

“But you and you sister agreed-“

Komand’r had left a month ago taking with her official proof that Kory was giving up her royal right to her sister and announcing that Earth was her new home.

“She sent me word from Tamaran. They still won’t accept her. I have to go, wear the crown, do my duty.”

“But-“

She was caressing his face again, the pads of her fingers softly following the lines on the surface of his skin, as if she was trying to learn every little part of him by heart…

“I’ve known for a while that would happen,” her voice broke, she pressed her face on his chest, grabbing the fabric of his shirt with both hands. “That’s why I lied to you” still horrified and confused, he caressed her hair, breathing in her scent, trying to make sure it was memorized, that no matter where she’d go, she’d still remain somehow within him.

“I didn’t want to make this harder than it has to be….” She continued, wiping her tears away. “But I decided that my last selfish act would be you. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

He couldn’t resist the way she said that last phrase and smashed his lips against hers again, pulling her impossibly close. Kory made a needy surprised noise that alone was enough to make him hard again, and when he pressed her against his dresser he made sure she’d know.

She pushed his chest away, and turned around, Dick understood the message, pulling her hair to the side and spreading open mouth kisses down her neck. She caught his eyes through the mirror, and although her smile reflected pure bliss, the new tears persisted to fall.

That wouldn’t do. He didn’t want their last night to be so full of sorrow.

“You have no idea,” but she continued, as his hands slid down her back, purposely ignoring the zipper of her dress. “When you went back together with Barbara” he answered the bitterness in her voice with a bite, she grabbed of his hands and pressed it against her breast. “I tried to convince me that it was alright,” his free hand reached her hips, marvelling at their perfect roundness, he strummed the silky fabric of her dress, pulling the seam up until his hand lied flat of the skin of her bare thigh.

“I thought…” it was becoming hard for her to keep talking and although he felt a wave of pride for rendering her speechless, his inquisitive mind still wanted to understand, and he wanted her to find relief by dumping all the weight she had been carrying alone all this time “that it was how things s-should be. Oh Dick-“ his fingers found the lacy edge of her underwear and Kory chocked. When he pulled his hand back to her inner thigh she let out a suffering sigh and continued with her explanation. “Even if I hurt. I thought… I thought things would be alright if you were happy.”

He had no idea that she was hurting that much too. He held her closer, resting his forehead against her neck.

“I thought if there was someone else to look after you,” instead of firm and needy, the grip on his hand on her breast became tender, “and help you with our kids... But then Rachel and Gar begged me to stay and you helped me to delude myself that there was a possibility…”

“Me?” One thing was she saying that she had feelings for him, another was she offering sex as a parting gift, and another completely different was she saying that what made her believe she could stay was him. Because that gave him hope, and hope is a very dangerous thing.

She looked shy for a woman who was just seconds before rubbing against his hard-on when she turned in his embrace again.

“You just had broken up with Barbara, and I couldn’t deny you anything because I was…” she swallowed, his heart was beating so hard he could almost hear it. Kory said a string of fast tamaranean words.

“Kory?”

“I can’t say it. Please don’t make me. This is bad enough, if I say it… I am… I… I fooled myself. This, us, it was too good to be true. Our little family, never in my life, I thought I’d ever get something like this. I never thought I even wanted it. But, after everything, when we came home, I knew you still had feelings for me… And X’hal…” she trailed off and looked away for a moment, but then raised her chin defiantly, a fierce expression in her face, green eyes shining with something akin to fury. “I wanted to accept them. I wanted to say fuck my duty, our family is better than that. I’d much better to be obligated to the you and Rach and Gar. Fuck the all our differences, I’d take the little I had with you over eternity with people that would kill children and their own daughter for power. I love my family and Tamaran. But that’s not enough anymore. I was afraid this would happen, but I didn’t want to believe it would be this soon, and now… Now…”

“Now what?”

She held his face between her hands again.

“Now this is all I can offer you. This night.”

“We’ll find a way,” he begged, picking one of her hands and kissing her palm.

Dick had never seen her smile turn up so sad.

“Please don’t this. I don’t want to pretend. I’m so tired of lying to you and I’ll have to pretend to the rest of my life. This might be the last night I will ever have to be myself, to be with you. I need this to be real.”

What else could he do? She wanted real. He’d give her real.

Dick pulled her up as his lips claimed hers again, her powerful legs crossed around his hips. He held her up like that for a while, just enjoying the feel of her body pressed flush against his. His hands giving her support by moulding her round butt with his palms. Kory took one of the hands off his hair, bending her arm backwards so she could rub him through his trousers. Dick let out a moan and she used the opportunity to make a wet path of kisses across his cheekbones, until she reached his ear. She whispered something in her native language and licked his earlobe.

Dick he walked backwards until his chins hit the bed and he fell sitting with Kory on his lap. She stopped her ministrations to pull her hair from her face and look down at him.

“Hey,” she said, her eyelashes were still wet, but her tears had stopped falling, she looked so… No wonder she belonged to the heavens, no being on planet Earth could be so perfect.

“Hello,” he answered.

Kory leaned her forehead against his, and Dick’s hands slid upwards through her back, searching for the metallic pull tab of the zipper, but his hands kept getting trapped by her voluminous curly hair.

“Kory, some help, please?”

She let out that hearty laugh of hers, deeply amused by his lack of skill, and pulled her hair up, the smile never leaving her lips.

“You are so gorgeous,” he vowed against her lips as he reached for the fastening of her dress again, this time having success in his endeavour.

“You are very pretty yourself, Mr Grayson,” she teased between kisses, with the back of her dress open, he started, kissing her shoulders as he pulled the straps of her dress down.

“I should have known that day, when I first saw you in that arcade, that you couldn’t be from this world.”

She laughed again and recoiled when he hit a ticklish path on her neck.

“You were so mad at me,” she giggled.

He forced his lips away from her skin so he could look at her.

“You stole my car!”

Kory pulled his locks away from his eyes with the tip of her fingers.

“I was very rude to you,” her fingers lowered from this forehead to the valley of his eyebrows to the tip of his nose.

“I fell in love right there,” he said, very serious, maybe just realising it.

“Don’t be silly.”

“I mean it.”

And she believed him. Kory kissed him again, rocking in his lap. Then she pushed him, making Dick fall on the bed, Kory looming over his body like a big cat.

“Oh, all the things I want to do to with you Dick Grayson…” she said in a husky tone.

“Please,” he whispered.

“Please what?”

“Whatever you want.”

She giggled and leaned towards his face, Dick moved to meet her in the middle, but in the last moment, Kory kissed his throat instead, making him let out an disappointed whine. She smiled against his skin, going downwards, making him sigh. Dick caressed her soft hair, sliding his hands through the newfound naked skin of her back, smirking when he felt her shiver. As nice as it was to go so slow, he just couldn’t turn off the part of his brain that knew the only reason why they were trying to stretch that night as long as possible, was because they wouldn’t have another.

He found his hands under her dress again, and pulled the shimmering fabric all the way up this time. Kory stopped her work on the buttons of his shirt to raise her hands up to help him. The golden tones of her dark skin glowed under the penumbra of his room, like she was her own source of light, and maybe she was. There was so much he didn’t know about her. So much that he’d never be able to find out now.

Dick pressed his hand against her belly, and looked up to her through his lashes, she was smiling again, observing his reaction. When he noticed that, he gave her a puzzled look and Kory shook her head.

“Come up here.”

He obeyed, catching her lips again, Kory rocked against him, and this time Dick rocked back against her, seeking that so desired friction. His hand slid between then, finding her core.

Oh Lord, he broke the kiss, breathing hard.

“Fuck, Kory, you have a pool here.”

“Yeah?” She said, trying to rub against his hand. “What you’re gonna do about it?”

Dick pressed his fingers against the fabric of her underwear, god she felt so hot, his fingers slid easily over the drenched lace, testing up and down, side to side and round motions to see what she liked best. He decided he found the one when Kory moaned loudly, and her hips started moving, assisting his own movements, her arms wrapped around his neck for dear life. When he felt she was getting, close, he, pulled the fabric aside and inserted two fingers, his thumb continuing to rub her clit and Kory screamed, her nails breaking the skin of his neck. Her other hand grabbing her own breast as Dick continued his onslaught, refusing to kiss her only so he would lose each blissful expression his ministrations created on her face.

He chuckled when her orgasm hit and she seemed to lose control of her movements to a fit of spasms. Dick kissed her temple as she calmed herself.

“Kor?”

“I’m fine.”

“Better than fine I hope.”

She let out a hoarse laugh.

“I can be better.”

“I hope for that too, we’ve barely started.”

She took a deep breath and raised her head from the curve of his neck.

“My turn!” She looked down at him. “How come you are still fully dressed?”

“I have a greedy princess for lover, you see.”

She rolled her eyes and made a quick work of his shirt that was already half-opened.

“Hmmm we have a problem.”

“What?”

“I can’t take off your pants and stay on your lap at the same time.”

“You’ll have to climb off first,” he suggested in a breathy voice.

She just gave him a look as if he said some absurd nonsense.

And then Kory’s eyebrows raised, her expression clearing as she quite clearly had an idea, Dick licked his lips and waited as one of her hands snaked down and ripped the fabric of her own thong. He was breathing incredibly heavy already for someone who did cardio sessions twice a day when her other hand grabbed his neck. His Adam’s apple bobbing against her palm. Looking straight into his eyes, Kory reached into his trousers and pulled his penis off its enclosure. She gave him a couple feeling pumps and Dick closed his eyes hard.

“Look at me,” she demanded.

Dick drew a shaky breath before blinking his eyes open, obeying. She smiled so, so sweetly before pushing her wet folds against his cock, stimulating both of them without penetration.

“Don’t!” she warned in a tight voice when threatened closing his eyes again.

Dick grabbed the sheets of his bed trying to hold himself together for her while Kory mercilessly rubbed her juicy sex against him, until was too much and he pushed her aggressively against the bed making Kory cry out in surprise and frustration. He didn’t let her down, thought, kneeling on the carpet and worshiping her dark smooth thighs. God, he haven’t even noticed before, but she was wearing those translucent knee high nylons. He had spent so much freaking time fantasising about that particular garment when she first appeared wearing them. How he had survived so long without having a hornyness-induced stroke living with Kory was beyond him.

He licked clean the juices dripping from her vulva first, holding his laughter as she let out a string of words he new were curses until he finally decided to take her off her misery giving the attention she so craved to her pussy. Dick fucked her with his tongue, using his thumb to keep flicking her clit at the same time.

He rose his head alarmed when she reached her climax again and he heard a loud crash. His lamp, once on his nightstand, was on the floor across the room, on fire.

Kory started to move to fix it, guilt mixed with tendrils of the pleasure of the mind numbing orgasm she had, but Dick just raised a hand to her. In no time he had put out the fire with a towel from his en suite.

Then he sat beside of her on the bed, and they exchanged a look before laughing together.

“That was pretty dangerous,” he stated after the worst of laughing subdued.

“Shut up and take off your pants already, Grayson.”

He did, well aware of her eyes on him as he worked. His feet were already bare he was about to take his night shower and get ready to sleep when she appeared at his door. Dick noticed she moving towards her own boots, but he stopped her.

“Let me.”

“Really? Last time you couldn’t take them off.”

“Nah, I just wanted to see you come while they were still on.”

“Kinky.”

He grinned and pulled the zipper of the first boot down, unwrapping her leg as if it was a rare fragile antique instead of the powerful murder weapon it could be. Not that he would mind dying between her legs. He actually couldn’t think of a better death.

Dick climbed back on the bed, lying beside Kory, she lazily turned her body towards his.

“Ready to go again?” he asked, one hand under his chin and the other playing with her beautiful curls. When they met they were to bright, he kind of missed it, lately it had been getting redder, he wanted to know what colour they would turn next, but he never would.

“What is it?” she asked, noticing the shadow on his face?

He could tell her and make her sad, he could lie, but she’d know and she asked him to be true. So, he dove for another kiss, covering her body with his and pulling her legs apart to fit better between them.

Her hands travelled across his back as they kissed, her still encased in the high socks feet slid from his calf to his butt pressing against it. When he was getting used of the feeling of her all putty and languid under him, Kory seemed to get over her afterglow stupor and pushed him.

“Up!”

He looked down.

“Has been for a while now.”

She snorted. She loved how free he felt to be silly when there was only the two of them. Kory wished he was more carefree like that regularly, but also felt a bubble of pride for how comfortable she made him feel.

“Dork. Come on, you’re not going to regret it.”

She let him give her another lazy kiss before he pulled off her, standing up, waiting with his hands on his waist. Kory pushed her body up with her forearms and sat down. She gave him an enigmatic smile before falling forward in fours. He was already moaning before her lips even touched him. Kory used one of her hands to hold her upper body horizontally and with the other she grabbed Dick’s hips and pulled him towards her in a powerful motion. She kissed his navel and licked downwards. He held his breath when the nails of the hand holding his hips scratched their way toward his balls, cradling them before she grabbed the base of his impossibly hard penis and sucked the tip.

“Fuuuuuck,” he moaned as she started swirling her tongue down, spreading kisses through the entire length. “Kory, oh my god-“ he chocked as her hand slid down, stimulating his balls again as she sucked restlessly, until the tip of her fingers rimmed him and pleasure was blinding, his ears were actually buzzing.

“Kor, Kor Kor, stop,” he begged unable to physically pull away. “Jesus, please, stop or I-“

Luckily, she did, he took a few breaths before opening his eyes again, afraid that even looking at her would make him come too soon. He tried to think about Krypto’s disgusting food to calm himself until he was allowed to contemplate actual sex goddess Koriand’r again. Dick could hear her giggling, that siren. But he’d show her.

When he decided it was safe enough, Dick opened his eyes to find Kory kneeing on the edge of the bed, looking at him with so much love – because as much as he understood her unwillingness to say it, he knew, oh he knew – his eyes stung.

“Come here,” he said opening his arms, and she hugged his neck, kissing him as Dick finally unfastened her bra. Hey threw the garment over his shoulder after freeing her, and leaned down to give attention to her breast. Just like everything about her, they were perfect, and he was more than happy to suck one of her black nipples as she caressed his hair lovingly. He gave equal treatment to the other one, but as he could feel her becoming restless, Dick pulled Kory up again. She snaked her hand between them, positioning his cock, and with one swift motion, let her weight descend over him. Dick let her ride him like that, standing up. She cried out, her hips moving against his frenetically, her arms and legs locked against his waist and neck for dear life, he tried to give her support by holding her butt cheeks, but she didn’t seem to need it, it was almost if she was flying.

She came again, almost bringing him with her, but thankfully without setting anything on fire. Dick took advantage of her high to pull her up, rising her to his shoulder and licking her again, overstimulating her until Kory lost all remaining control.

Dick lied her on the bed again, kissing her neck softly as she returned, his hands sliding up and down her thigs. Kory sighed.

“I don’t think I can come again,” she said, one of her thumbs was caressing the new bullet wound scar on his shoulder, the one Babs gave him. Kory was so mad. He wanted to kiss her so hard that day. If only Gar wasn’t there too…

“I’ll try my best,” he picked the hand on his scar and kissed it.

“Aren’t you so hardworking?”

He chuckled and entered her again, this time going slowly. The sun was rising through the horizon, reminding them that even that night had to end too. She held his face, smiling, but the tears were falling again. He kissed her cheeks, cleaning them with his love. And then, when the morning sun hit her hair, creating an purple aura around her hair, he came.

She was still under him when he opened his eyes again, she didn’t seem no more willing to let him go than he felt of leaving her body.

“I’m fighting for you,” he said, very serious.

Kory sighed, and turned her face away.

“You can’t.”

“Kory-“

“Please, don’t talk, I want to enjoy this just a little longer.”

Dick climbed off her, but pulled Kory’s body for a hug, she lied her head over his heart, fitting, for even universes apart, she was its rightful owner and always would be.

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

Where is my clown make up? This thing ended being 6k anyway lmao. But I wanted to take part in the trend of extra-long DickKory sex scenes. It’s a very nice trend, you see.

Well, I hope you all liked it. I plan to make a sequel, but Fortuna knows when it will come out. I do have a lot of WIPs that need attention.

And now I’ll watch today’s episode, I told myself I wasn’t allowed to watch it until this was over.

Please comment!!!! And reblog!!!

#dickkory #dickkori #starfire #nightwing #robstar #koriand'r #dick grayson #kory anders #kori anders #teen titans #titans #hbo titans #dcu titans #titans live action #my fic #caught between goodbye and i love you

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voltage-vixen · 4 years ago

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Kiss Me Under the Mistletoe

‘Tis the Season of Smut Challenge Day 1

Prompt: Kiss me under the mistletoe (NSFW)

Fandom: Voltage (Court of Darkness)

Pairing: Guy Avari x MC (Female)

“Could you be bothered to remove the blindfold now?” MC sighed, impatiently fidgeting on the couch Guy insisted she wait on.

“Wait for me,” Guy’s deep voice abruptly boomed. “I wish to show you something, but I must finish the final preparations beforehand. Your patience is required for just a little while longer.”

Earlier that afternoon, Jasper had summoned her to the royal’s private quarters, insistent that Guy had an urgent matter to discuss with her. Since the loyal valet refused to answer any of her questions, MC was left in the dark when she arrived at Guy’s chamber. Then she was even literally left in the dark when her vision was suddenly concealed by a blindfold that magically wrapped around the circumference of her head.

Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes continued to pass until MC stood in a fit of restlessness. MC was about to voice her annoyance when Guy’s single finger appeared to have slipped under her chin. She was enraptured by the powerful gaze of his red tinted eyes as the blindfold slid down to the floor. Her mouth opened only to utter a short gasp when she witnessed the state of the room outside the focus of Guy’s face. Taking a step back, MC surveyed the room and found that a Christmas transformation had occurred.

A fireplace roared in the chimney, while stockings hung from the mantle above. Next to Guy’s bed sat a tall lit tree decked in illuminating lights and ornaments. Classy gold garland decorated the walls, and a light snow fall appeared and trickled down from the ceiling creating a winter wonderland scene in front of the fireplace. Rendered speechless, one of MC’s hands drifted over her mouth while the other rested onto Guy’s arm as he embraced her from behind.

“My research indicated that this this time of year is special in your world,” Guy stated, admiring the way her eyes lit up brighter than any of the lights he crafted in the room. “Something about holidays being meaningful to your people?”

“Guy,” MC sniffled, tilting her head to allow Guy to wipe away the tears straggling down the line of her cheek. “This is beautiful! Thank you so much! But answer me this….why go through all this trouble for me? I’ve never mentioned celebrating the holidays to you before.”

It was Guy’s turn to dwell in astonishment by MC’s sudden line of questioning. Something happened to the prince that very rarely ever happened-a faint crimson blush that was barely visible to detection creeped onto Guy’s face. Not wanting her to witness this side of him, Guy hurried to turn away, but his intent was foiled when MC caught the sides of his face with her palms.

“Tell me,” she pleaded, pressing her forehead against his. “I’m speechless. Seriously, I didn’t hold any expectations, yet they’ve been exceeded. Why would you go to such lengths though?”

Letting go of Guy’s face, MC rose to the tips of her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her eyes twinkled wide in wonderment, and she looked like a vision as the snow had begun to cling to her hair. Captivated by her alluring gaze, Guy’s heart pounded when her eyelashes fluttered at him. It wasn’t often that the Prince of Avari found himself succumbing to the whims of others, but the woman standing before him was an exception. For there was no other that owned his very being unlike her.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Guy leaned down to murmur into the nape of her neck. “I promised I would ensure your happiness if you stayed with me. I’ve only simply begun to fulfill that vow, but-”

MC stole the breath uttering Guy’s declaration when their lips collided together. Touched by his sweet sentiment, MC was overflowing with her feelings of affection and she was determined to convey her emotions physically since words couldn’t fully express how much she loved him. Guy seemed to have the same idea in mind since he tightened his grip on MC and collapsed back onto the couch. Their fingers frantically tore away at each other’s clothing whilst they explored the intimate canvases of their bodies.

Once they were both bare, MC climbed onto Guy’s lap. Settling herself over the heat of his arousal, she was about to lower herself onto him when a colorful flash up from above seized her attention.

Mistletoe.

MC’s smile sparkled in admiration at the twinkling decoration. The curl of her lips implied how obviously evident her joy was. Guy’s investigation into her former world’s traditions led to his discovery of the purpose that mistletoe served in retrospect of her customs. Yearning to witness more of MC’s innocent reactions, a beaming carnelian aurora radiated around the prince’s silhouette as he casted his powers to coat the remaining vacant spaces in mistletoe.

“Guy,” MC choked, her lower lip trembling from the surge of gratitude on behalf of the amount of consideration Guy put forth into preparing this astoundment.

Stunned into a silence from Guy’s tokened generosity, MC nuzzled her head into his neck, lovingly expressing her appreciativeness for the thoughtful gestures. Wet tears streamed onto his chest, communicating the affirmation she held in her heart for him. Driven by the desire of how ecstatic his actions impacted MC, the lust flaming from within his loins awoken his carnal instincts. His person trembled beneath her, longing to be joined in body and soul with the one he loved. Guy may be a powerful ruler, but underneath the surface he was just a man-and a selfish one at that. He had to have MC, and he had to have her now. Waiting was no longer a viable option.

“Every tear you shed is beautiful, but they’re even more beautiful when they are discarded from you coming undone by my touch,” Guy crooned, encasing the curves of her hips as he arose from the couch and sauntered over to fireplace. “However, I’m a greedy man and I demand more. Leave nothing unturned and show me all of you now.”

The flames roared in the fireplace while Guy placed MC down onto her back, allowing her to bask in the heat of the fire as his lips madly roamed her chest. Never one to neglect, Guy’s fingers traveled up the silk of her thigh, his fingers fervently stroking until the heat of MC’s nectar spilled onto him. Confident that she was ready to take him, Guy climbed on top of her. Gripping her ankle, he situated her leg over one of his arms before pushing himself as far and deep as MC was able to envelope him.

MC’s sensual cries echoed melodiously in his ears in sync to each of Guy’s thrusts. He uttered his own moan when her fingers curled into his back, madly clawing away at the warmth of his skin. Her face glowed from the perspiration beaded on her forehead. She was bordering on the edge of consciousness; each movement of Guy’s was delivering a rush of bliss that left her toes curling and her hands thrashing searching for the carpet to grip onto. Guy’s fingers swept down south of her body at a tantalizing pace and kept teasing until he reached the swell of her womanhood. His thumb massaged the sensitive bud, his rhythm deliberate and slow, eventually inducing her second wave of euphoria. Guy groaned as his arousal poured into MC, whose body was violently quivering from her elation.

He collapsed onto the floor beside her. Cradling her onto his chest, Guy played with her hair while MC snuggled closer into his warmth, comforted by the thumping sound of his heartbeat. She could always distinguish how much Guy cared for her by the delicate way he caressed her. MC relished in his affections and found her eyelids were growing heavy from how safe she felt in his arms….

“I pray that this will become a tradition of our own we can look forward to immersing ourselves in during future holidays,” Guy murmured lazily into her hair. “You can expect the future to be filled with joy, for one day you will be ruling by my side.”

MC didn’t respond, which caused Guy to prop himself up only to discover MC had drifted off into a peaceful slumber. Reaching over to intertwine their fingers together, Guy snaked his leg in between hers and placed gentle, languid kisses on her cheek before whispering a sweet goodnight to MC.

“Happy holidays, my future queen.”

You can still join the challenge and find more info HERE!

#'tis the season for smut #court of darkness #guy avari #voltage inc #court of darkness smut #voltage smut #guy avari smut #cod guy #yes i'm posting day 1 on day 6 because i'm late #work has been hell and i need to play catch up!

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damnusillygoose · 4 years ago

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JERZA FANFICTION

A/N: This entry is a part of Sugar and spice, valentijn evenement 2021, theme 2: spice and smut.

A huge thank you to every single talented author who put their effort to take part in this event: Alastair, AsgardianHobbit98, GustavonkaLondon, HisagiKirigakure, Iceburg-sanCPX, Kakashi97, Kairomone, Kamil the Awesome, Karkatsbabe, Max333, Nazaki-Sama, NekoPantera, Phoenixreal, Potashiamu, RavenStyx, Sailor Silver Ladybug, Seth's Kiss, SerenaJones585, SesshomaruFreak, Spunky0ne and Yatsu Narurasuke

Link to ffn site:

https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13823258/1/Jerza-college-AU

They could blame it on the fact that most lectures got cancelled today and hence, they had more time to kill or they could blame it on the fact that there was not a single soul present in the library or they could blame it on the fact that they had chocolate smoothie in the canteen today, but it remained as a matter of fact that Erza and Jellal were extremely horny today. Lust was oozing out like vapors from every fiber of their being.

'Erza', he whispered as his back slammed against the bookshelf behind the desk of reception, the books in the top shelf rankled from their collective thrust.

'I love how husky you sound when you whisper my name, Jellal', she said as she ventured raptly into his eyes as if stripping every fabric, every inch of clothing from his body. She pressed her boobs against his muscular chest while their tongues fought each other for dominance. She wanted to feel him even more. Their warm clothes were posing as a hindrance when all she wanted to do was touch and lick every part of him. Their breaths mingled as they continued to smack their lips against each other repeatedly, Jellal slid his hands from her waist to squeeze her ass suggestively.

They were only 2 months into their relationship and they were trying to take things slow on Erza's request but with the way their relationship was progressing, they could easily extrapolate onto a new level seamlessly.

'Not here, Erza. It's the fucking library!'

'Huh? Are you complaining? You squeezed my butt in the first place.'

'No, you started groping my inner thigh when we were revising the 'national income'.

'No, you licked your lips!'

'…. what?'

'You licked the whipped cream foam from your lips and it made me fucking crazy alright! I wanted to smack your lips right there and then!'

'Erza…. I drank the smoothie in the canteen…which was one hour thirty minutes before we entered the library…'

'…So?'

He moved towards her, cornering her into a cage as he thrust his palms right above her head, against the wall, his lips barely making any contact with hers, he didn't understand this woman at all.

'You are one hell of a horny woman Erza. And I love it'

----------

'This wasn't my fault that we were caught, Jellal'

'It certainly was since you were moaning so loudly when I was nibbling your ear. And how come levy recognized your moans right away?'

'…. maybe it was her intuition?', at least she tried, albeit in a lame manner.

'I think, maybe because you guys have your dorms next to each other and you probably finger yourself while reading the erotic novels she lends you.'

Goddamn, this man was fucking sharp.

'I-I don't know about that', she rambled her wordage as her lips threatened to deceive her.

'hmp', Jellal smirked knowingly, he knew her inside and out-no matter how much she tried to lie. He was observing her for the past two years, flirted with her for about 7 months before incurring the courage to confess her. So, did she apparently. They knew each other like no one else did. An intimate space which was only shared by them-emotionally and physically.

'And that ear nibbling! Dear god Jellal! I can't help it! That was my sensitive spot. It made me go crazy!'

'Everything makes you go crazy it seems, first it was the smoothie, then my lip smacking and then the ear nibbling'

'hmpmh, y-you-I hate you Jellal', moving her lips to make an adorable pout as she nudged his shoulder, making him stumble in his steps lightly.

'You won't when I start pinching your nipples when we get into my room. Wasn't that a part of your fantasy? I'll do my best to fulfill that', he whispered the last part so only her ears, which turned crimson from embarrassment, would comprehend his vulgar verbiage as he grabbed her hand firmly leading them to join the queue near the bus stop.

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

The bus was hurling along the slippery road, courtesy to the light drizzle which started suddenly. Magnolia was experiencing a heavy monsoon season and it was advisable to carry raincoats as the downpour could start without any warning.

The wind howled as the turbulent raindrops splattered against the window of their seat. However, there was a greater quagmire which Erza was toiled at.

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

The doorknob clicked as two partially drenched individuals entered a flat. Jellal's flat, which he shared with Ultear and Meredy, was redolent of a serene stillness- rendering out that both of them were indulged at their respective part-time jobs or finishing lectures at university. They closed the door and left their umbrella at the doorstep while dropping their bags on the mat. Jellal led her to his room and switched on the lights for the convenience of vision. Erza borrowed one of his shirts, which was practically now hers because she loved to wear it often, and hurried to the bathroom to take a quick shower.

Jellal smiled at her petite form when she returned-pausing to drop her a brief kiss, he took a towel and made a haste to take a shower himself.

She settled herself on his bed and switched off the lights. She still felt embarrassed to show her naked body. Though Jellal was extremely patient and considerate of her, she did want to go all the way with him this time. The wall clock ticked, reminding her of the fact that time was running out and she needed to be quick.

This time, she encouraged herself, this time for sure, we will do it! I will not chicken out I will not chicken out I will not chicken out I will not-

'Erza'

She jumped quietly when she felt his breathe against the skin of her neck, drawing goosebumps over her spine, an electric spark which passed from her neck down to her arms, ending up in her stomach which was churning with an abrupt, incorrigible lust.

She was so enraptured in her musings that she didn't even take cognizance of the fact that he had already finished his bath.

'What are you thinking about so intently, love?', he whispered tenderly, moving his lips along her cheeks.

She felt his fingers, cold from the shower, tugging at her chin, pulling her closer to him. She stuck her tongue out and captured his lower lip , sucking the juicy flesh fervidly.

Her eyes shut themselves in bliss when his hands tugged at her(his?) shirt, pulling it over her head and tossing it aside nonchalantly. Her breasts, now free from the pathetic fabric, bounced in an enamoring fashion, drawing shivers over her back.

Despite the darkness, Jellal could very well make out the outline of her nipples, luring him in to ravage them with his parched mouth. Erza gasped loudly when he pulled her back against his chest, making her sit completely within his legs.

She could feel it harden. She could feel his member throbbing painfully, only few inches away from her quivering core. Two separated souls, yearning, begging to commix their existence incessantly.

He drew his breath sharply when she submerged herself into him, her cheek against his, her tongue delineating random patterns across his pulse.

She was being daring today, he reckoned.

Their cuddle session was a ritual, a practice to make each other comfortable with their nude form. He raced his palms against her sides as they moved forward to fondle her soft navel, his thumb gently tracing the area around her belly button.

They could never keep their lips away from each other. Their hunger knew no bounds, their lips were engaged in a fervent battle with each other, his soft strands tinkered her eyelids as she caught hold of the back of his head to pull him even closer to her. Their gasps and moans reverberated throughout the room, rivaling the spurt of raindrops outside.

He caught hold of her face with his hands when she changed their current position and settled herself in his lap, facing him completely, her bosom pressed against his chest entirely. She caught his hand, kissing it lovingly while moving her lips to kiss his strong foreman, his biceps and finally his broad shoulders

His free hand had an easy access to her back, her soft butt and the warm flesh of her inner thighs. She rubbed her core against his thigh eliciting rough gasps from his end.

She was so warm down there.

Her hands landed to grip his shoulders firmly as she threw her head back in uncontrollable pleasure when he slipped his warm palms over her breasts, pinching her nipples between his thumbs. He carefully comprehended the outline of her breasts as he lurched his mouth passionately upon them, trying to take in as much as he could.

The sound of his lips smacking her boobs evoked an odd analogy of that of a baby sucking milk from their mother's bosom. He really did appear like a baby who was sucking her boobs hyper-actively. He moved his eyes to take a look at her face embellished with a blush. He smirked.

'Jellal, Jellal', she reiterated his name like a sacred prayer. Her chest heaving from pleasure, as she clutched upon his back for her dear life.

Erza's brain was in a deadlock. She left her limp form in his care as he ravaged her boobs, sucking and licking and fondling them again and again. Jellal, now ready to test the waters, moved his fingers down to her raging core, cautiously-without any haste, to get her steer clear of the fact that he was in no hurry to have sex with her. Her comfort was of paramount importance to him after all.

The sheets ruffled as she laid down on the mattress and he ran his lips across her navel, her lower abdomen which was precariously close to her vagina. Overcome by a sudden surge of trepidation, Erza covered her sex, pressing her thighs together in embarrassment

'J-Jellal, please…. It's kinda dirty down there.' She whimpered. She was insecure of the fact that her private parts weren't as clean as they show in porn even when she knew they go through a meticulous course of makeup and brush up. There was an unhealthy image stuck in her mind.

'it's not, my love. Let me have a look at it. If you won't communicate me your desires, I won't be able to fulfill them. I am just as you, a little clueless in matters regarding love.'

She hesitantly removed her hands and let him spread her thighs open, she still couldn't digest the fact that she, a person insecure of her body image, would let another human being look at her most intimate parts so easily.

'You cut your nails, right?', she asked breathlessly.

'Yes'

Jellal repeatedly kissed her navel, her palm, moving upwards to kiss her forehead, capturing her lips in an alluring kiss, long and deep, to make her feel at home- trying his best to wash away her stress, to calm her bickering nerves.

But that didn't tame the tempestuous dissonance in her mind. Her mind was at war, stringing every negative thought, every insecurity, every anxiety of hers along the surface. Sex is a game of emotional balance for women. Once you lose it, you end up losing the game.

Jellal kissed her eyelids softly as he raced his fingers downwards to her vagina. He got hold of her right thigh, lifting it a little higher. He cautiously brought his fingers forward, taking note of nervous her state, and slid his fingers into the warm folds of her vagina.

'You're so wet Erza'.

She really was, well she was.

She was vehemently at the mercy of her emotional turmoil. She could find no way, no fucking method to calm herself. Her eyes became damp. Her unsettlement became very much evident to Jellal when her vagina started becoming dry all of a sudden. If he were to proceed ahead- Erza would probably suffer some vaginal pain. He stopped.

She brought her legs upwards, bringing them closer to her chest, walling her trembling form like a barnacle.

'I am sorry, Jellal', she sniffled.' I am sorry'

'Erza', he caressed her trembling state reverently, 'it's okay Erza. Look at me. Come here.'

He urged her to get on top of him and as soon as she did, he enveloped her in arms, waiting for her heaving to normalize. She was trembling and she wasn't able to look him in the eye. She was ashamed of herself for being this gutless.

'I love you so much. You are my baby, the best part of my life', he repeatedly whispered soft reassures in her ears, peppering her face with soft snuggles, rubbing his palms along her arms, her back-anything he could reach and touch, letting her know-reminding her again and again that sex can wait but her becoming comfortable in her skin is much more important-not only for their intimacy but for her emotional health as well.

She didn't respond initially, didn't react for a while but as the rational aspect of her personality started surmounting the muddy swamps of her anxiety, she reached for the light at the end of the tunnel- his soothing voice and his delicate pampering.

She sniffled as tears ran down her face, her lips twisted themselves to utter an apology.

'I don't understand. Why are you apologizing?'

'for chickening out once again…'

'it's okay', he embraced her tightly, 'We can try another time. I am in no haste. Should we spend more time in nude to make you feel more comfortable?'

'Maybe. I guess'

Somehow deep inside Jellal's heart, some needless misapprehensions started mushrooming.

Did I make her uncomfortable? Was I a creep? Did she get turned off by me? Did I do something wrong?

As if miraculously sensing his plight, Erza looked up from his collarbone-straight into his eyes.

'It wasn't due to you sweetheart', she whispered, cupping his cheeks, 'it's me'.

'I…. don't understand'

'I got scared when you tried to finger me. I got scared about what was about to happen next, about when we would finally do it, whether it would hurt the first time or not, whether it would fit or not…. I-I just got scared.'

Those were some irrational fears but valid for someone who was going to experience sex for the first time. Sex isn't all rosy tinted.

Sex is trial and error. Sex is communication. Sex is cooperation. Sex is mutual pleasure.

He didn't know she was harboring these thoughts but he decided to pick this topic later on. They could deliberate upon it afterwards. Right now, his priority was to make her feel safe. He ran his palms, combing her crimson tresses with his fingers, trying to calm her breathing, trying to make sure she feels comfortable.

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

'There you go', Jellal said as he handed her a cup of herbal tea. She was sitting upright, wearing his shirt, against the wall where his bed was situated. She thanked him while holding the warm beverage carefully.

It had gotten a little colder as the storm didn't plan on stopping any time soon. He had received a call from his flatmates that they could get late due to trains being delayed. He didn't mind that since he wanted to clear up things with Erza once she felt like talking about it. So, he waited. He didn't push her. Instead, he tried to change the topic by opting to watching some funny vines on YouTube with her or the new show on Netflix which she was excited about.

Things weren't awkward between them but they weren't exactly smooth either. There was an issue which was bugging Erza constantly.

'Are you angry?'

'Never', he smiled, giving her temple a warm kiss.

'Is this a deal breaker for you?'

'its not Erza, really it's not'

'but it's the second time I did that… '

'As I said earlier, I am in no hurry to have sex with you. I just want you to be comfortable first. The rest can wait'

She didn't want to make analogy, no use in making a juxtaposition of Jellal and that idiot. But she felt he had to tell him.

'My ex..', Jellal stiffed at the mention of that asshole. That asshole who destroyed her self-esteem, 'It was a deal breaker for my ex'

'Your ex was an idiot ,sweetheart'

'Why didn't I meet you earlier Jellal?' she asked him desperately.

He had no answer for that, being at a loss of words. It was a question he often asked himself. Why didn't they meet earlier? Her ex damaged her self-esteem. His ex cheated on him. They both had terrible past experiences. Had they met each other earlier, they would have never been subjected to such torture… or is it?

'Erza, your experience was painful but do you think it was in vain?'

It was as if someone opened the lid of her jar of rational lucidity. The next words she uttered spilled themselves naturally.

'No', she smiled ruefully. She remembered her desperation. Her desperation to take her ex out of her mind. She used to internally scoff at people who cried from heartbreaks and now that she herself experienced this phenomenon herself, she wanted to visit and apologize to every single person she subtly mocked. Physical wounds could heal themselves habitually, but there was no fucking immediate ointment for a heartbreak. She remembered her struggles, the days she used to get headaches from crying herself to sleep, the days when she used to feel numb even when being surrounded by friends and family. It was excruciatingly painful but she learned a great lesson out of it. It helped her to regain her self-respect and heal herself without any unhealthy coping mechanism.

'No, it wasn't Jellal. It surely wasn't', she voiced her opinion in a different tone now, resuscitated with how far she had come and that her worth wasn't solely based on her sex appeal.

'And do you think we both would have matured this much if it weren't for those experiences?', probably not.

He always knew how to calm her down with his words.

'Why are you being so saint-like today?', she grinned, finally.

'Well, I don't know about that', his lips curved themselves while giving her a wink.

'Things… are so easy with you Jellal. Like, we talk about stuff we don't tolerate and place our opinions well, there is no suffocation-only peace.'

'Honestly Erza, it may seem like an overused phrase but I don't think I have ever connected to someone this well. It's almost unbelievable. Do you remember when we initially started talking to each other, before we started dating?'

'I do, we once talked for 5 hours straight on call. Crazy days!'

Laughter spilled in the, now well illuminated, room as they both decided to trace the timeline of their journey together.

'We had mid- semester break and hence we had the liberty to stay awake till early morning', he reminisced.

'I remember watching the sunrise with you at call at 5:30 A.M. I never talked to anyone for this long'

'We… have come a long way from back then, haven't we?'

'We surely have Jellal', she took his hand in hers and held them together firmly, resting her head, contently, on his shoulder.

Their mugs lay forgotten on Jellal's rack of books as they decided to take a quick nap while snuggling close to each other.

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

Later that night when she abruptly mustered some guts, now fully in control of her stable state, she lifted her arm and gently drew her slender finger tips across his naked back. The sheer lust in her eyes being evident from the sublimate rays shone upon her from the window. One look from her. That's all it took for Jellal to spring into action.

Gasps and moaned reigned supreme as they tried to touch each other as much as they wanted. She felt the embrace she received from him, slowly eradicate her anxiety, aiding her to take control of the situation.

Their bodies, covered in a sheen layer of sweat, trembled and wobbled concurrently as they tried different positions, different angles to find the most suitable one which matched their lust.

She was a little embarrassed, but so was he. They were in this together, as a team. Clumsily, and laughing at their mistakes, they managed to finally experience this sensation called 'sex'.

In the aftermath of the convulsion their bodies endured, they slept peacefully bundled together, spooning each other, in layers of quilt, not wanting the heat to escape their love nest. The smell of their orgasm reeked strongly into the room as they heaved in sync, incorrigibly from their snuffling. Skin to skin, his smell infused with hers, not giving a thought regarding how she looked like at the moment- all she concerned was about the man who held her lovingly in his arms, about the man who was coddling raptly into her collarbone, about the man with whom she reached her ecstasy with, about the man with whom sex wasn't a tool to jerk off but a method to delve deep within the soul of one another.

As the fulminating downpour dismissed its actuality, it left a cold trail of precipitation in the air. The corollary tailwind rolled across the vast expanse of the city, lulling two gentle souls, inside a cocoon of new found intimacy, into a warm slumber.

A/N: Thank you for reading. Please leave a review! It will encourage me to write more. Constructive criticism is appreciated!

#jellal x erza #fairy tail #jerza #jellal fernandes #fairy tail 100 years quest #jerza week #jellal fernandez #fairy tail jerza #jerza fanfiction #fairy tail 100 yq

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thanksjro · 5 years ago

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Dark Cybertron Chapter 8: Swoop is a Good Ally

Bumblebee doesn’t turn into a convertible, but that won’t stop Megatron from riding around with his legs hair in the wind, as the two of them book it for Iacon from the Crystal City. Bumblebee’s making great time, despite carrying a dude who is significantly larger than he is. As the burning city comes into view, they discuss the fact that the Titan that’s making its way downtown (walking fast, and it’s homebound) is full of Shockwave ores. The life and death ones, to be exact. This is a problem, because that means it’s neither alive or dead, and you can’t kill something that ain’t alive.  Then Megatron goes on about how Cybertron needs him, and has always needed him, to end oppression.

Mighty high opinion of yourself you got there, Megatron. We’ll see how that plays out as the day goes on.

Over with Starscream, our fearless leader’s reflecting on how true the term “rat bastard” fits dear Rattrap. Rattrap’s more concerned about the fact that people are literally dying right now while Starscream has a pity party. Good thing Rattrap brought some party guests.

Starscream double-checks that all these friendly faces aren’t with the Titan, then gets called incompetent by just about everyone. Prowl puts together a strategy for this nightmare scenario, staring directly into the camera and showing off his lovingly rendered nose as he starts giving orders. While everyone else is going to be either rounding up the injured or trying to pick a fight with a dude roughly 50 times their size, Prowl’s going to try to figure out how to stop the Titan.

Back inside Metroplex, things are looking tense, as Nautica and Chromia are about a hair’s breadth away from beating the Rod Pod Squad to death. In an effort to dispel the hostility, Getaway points at his bellybutton, and then sat Nautica’s, quoting Optimus Prime and saying that there’s no reason to fight, because a bunch of little murderous bastards are about to pour in and cause some trouble for everyone.

And then a bunch of little murderous bastards are about to pour in and cause some trouble for everyone.

Everyone starts climbing up the rope Nautica and Chromia dropped last issue, except for Whirl, who would prefer to spend his time kicking ass as opposed to hunting for Metroplex’s brain. As the gang crawls around in the vents- because of COURSE they do- Nautica realizes that she’s talking to none other than Ratchet, and has a bit of a moment. Ratchet’s more concerned with the concept of gender being introduced into his world.

You’re right, Ratchet, it doesn’t matter. Just let people live, dude.

Everyone ends up in the left shoulder blade area of Metroplex, where his brain is, and where we meet Windblade- our fan-created character, and a huge part of why IDW had to jam the concept of sexual dimorphism into their continuity posthaste.   In 2013, the Fan Built Bot polls were held on the Hasbro website, where fans could vote on several traits of a new character. One of these traits was gender. 

Which I’m sure Furman was thrilled about.

The majority rule was for a female Transformer to be created, one hailing from Kaon, who was an Autobot telepath who turned into a jet and had a sword. Not all of this information was kept, simply because it didn’t jive with what had been established about gender previously. Things were still very messy, so Windblade’s place of origin was changed.

But we’ll get to that later on.

Right now, all you need to know is that Windblade is here to keep Metroplex alive.

Over in the Dead Universe, Nightbeat leads Team -Imus to Kup, the lot of them blasting and gunning down zombie robots the whole way. Cyclonus still has the Hollywood Tuberculosis cough. When they reach Kup, Orion Pax calls him old. Cyclonus has a gun now. Rodimus explains why he’s got numbers carved into his palm.

After the nightmare that was Overlord happened, and then the Luna 1 stuff, Rodimus enacted the Crisis Act. Now, the last time we saw the Crisis Act was in Eugenesis. It’s been a minute, so here’s a refresher:

In this case, Rodimus enacted the Act on himself, having the crew of the Lost Light vote on whether he should remain captain. 89 voted for him to get the boot. This weighs heavily on his mind, so much so that he’s decided to carve the vote into his hand, so he can never forget those he failed.

Off in the corner, Cyclonus is dying, but this isn’t about him, this is about Rodimus’ sense of guilt.

Orion isn’t thrilled with how Rodimus handled the situation- he claims that Rodimus would have simply stepped down from his captaincy outright, if he really felt that badly about the situation.

Off in the corner, Cyclonus is still dying, but this isn’t about him.

Not my space dad.

Nightbeat scoops Kup off of his bed and helps the old man stand, not that he needs it. No sir, this crotchety old bastard is so full of piss and vinegar, he’s gotta have the entire Industrial Revolution backdropping his big badass speech.

And then that final claim is tested, as Cyclonus’ limp body is fastball-specialed into Kup’s torso. Nova Prime’s here, and he’s pissed. Orion decides he’s gonna square the fuck up. It’s time for Prime Prime-Time Fight Time.

Back inside Metroplex, violence is taking place, as Whirl, Getaway, and Skids are eviscerating the Ammonites. Over with Metroplex’s brain, Windblade is explaining her whole deal.

Chromia, don’t be fucking rude.

Windblade is a City Speaker, a robot who can interpret the the lights and wave patterns of a Titan’s brain module for the purpose of communication. It’s a pretty sweet trick. Brainstorm doesn’t care about that though- he’s more concerned with getting the hell out of here. Ultra Magnus agrees, though he’s more concerned about the current state of Cybertron and the fact that Shockwave’s still running around. Windblade tells them to do whatever, but she’s gonna stick with Metroplex. It’s at this point that we find out how our new friends got here in the first place.

Turns out Thunderclash’s ship was taking new crew members on, and these three lovely robots were a part of the new blood. The Vis Vitalis ran into Alpha Trion not too long after they joined, freaking the hell out because Metroplex- his best friend in the whole entire world, as established in Spotlight: Orion Pax- just vanished.

Not sure how you lose an entire city that you’re riding around inside, but whatever, Alpha.

Alpha Trion was worried about his friend, but not enough to stop looking for the Holy Grail. So he had Chromia, Windblade, and Nautica come out here to do it. Unfortunately, they haven’t been able to do much. This might be why Metroplex pulled the Lost Light over to this rinky-dink little water planet- so he wouldn’t die.

Do you think Roberts and Barber were aware that they were having a bunch of male characters walk all over the hard work of these female characters, by way of making them better at the thing they were sent here to do? Do you think they thought about that? Because that’s pretty much what’s happening here. They’ve been here all of ten minutes, and Nautica- who is a quantum mechanic and engineer, as will be established- has been outdone by a bunch of doofuses who’ve only got the benefit of being properly established characters helping them out.

With a little set up, Metroplex’s brain is plugged into the Lost Light’s engines remotely, and Ultra Magnus tells our boy to rise and shine.

Back on Cybertron, Fixit and Flatline are about to throw down, which Starscream thinks is hilarious. There’s a whole medical slab that contains only a single shin. People are laying in trailers, but I guess that lone shin has priority for whatever reason. Outside, Scoop is being a good lad and helping get the injured to safety. Rattrap is also there.

The Titan has hit the city limits, and everyone’s shooting at the thing to cope. The Dinobots are upset because they’re being ignored, but at least Swoop is proving to be a good friend, as he’s already acclimated to Slug’s name change. Good on you, Swoop.

The plan of attack here is shooting the Titan in the neck until the signals to the brain are cut off from the rest of the body. It’s not really working out so hot, but smart boy points for trying, Prowl.

A building explodes, because we haven’t had an explosion yet this issue. Prowl, whose little red chevron seems to be shrinking by the panel, asks Soundwave for his opinion on the current situation. Soundwave goes “I dunno” and then Megatron shows up.

Friggin’ drama queen.

Prowl, who’s had about enough of everyone at this point, breaks out a gun and tells Megs to start talking before things get uglier than they already are.

Megatron has a plan. Are you ready to hear it?

He wants everyone to:

Load up on ships

Fuck off into space

Come back later when the DJD show up

Bumblebee does not like this plan. He dislikes it very much, in fact, and throws Megatron’s legs on the ground in protest. Megatron pouts about being called a meanie warlord shit-for-brains.

Bumblebee rattles off a very inspiring speech about the perseverance of the Cybertronian spirit, and how you should never give up, and oh would you look at that Metroplex just showed up with the Lost Light.

Time for some Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robots. Hell yeah.

#transformers #jro #dark cybertron #issue 8 #mtmte #issue 26 #maccadam #Hannzreads #overthinking about robots #incoming analysis #text post #long post #comic script writing

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mcfanely · 5 years ago

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Golem AU

For @razzle-zazzle‘s Golem AU, because I can’t get enough of it

Gaia Brookstone could do many things, She was a dancer first and foremost, something that had caught the eye of her now husband, Lou; she was creative, imaginative, and gifted with incredible powers passed down through her family lineage. The Earth seemed to bend to her guidance, shift and form under her steady hand. Maybe that was why ceramics and pottery came so easily to her? But faced with the inability to have her own biological child, she resorted to something only she would think was possible. A clay Golem, one with free will. Guided not by instructions, but by heart and soul, by magic. He would be her masterpiece, a worthy inheritor of her elemental powers. He would be her son, Cole.

Part 1: Spells and Sigils, 2477 words

Cole found himself staring at his reflection in the mirror again.

He would have thought that he was used to what he looked like, since not that much ever really changed about him on a day to day basis, yet sometimes he still caught himself staring.

Staring at the water dripping from his hair following the morning shower, carving a path that was crafted by the muscle on his shoulder and down his chest. Then it eventually met its routes end, dropping off, missing the towel he had wrapped around his waist and hitting the wooden floor of his bedroom in the monastery. More drops of water followed in its wake. Cole still stared.

It was probably because of the day. That was it, it was because of the day he was looking at himself in a different light that didn't make itself known on normal days.

It was only once a year, when this day came about. The anniversary of the day his mother had finished her magnum opus, a project that she'd put her life and talents and everything into. Something she'd crafted so lovingly, skilled hands moulding an immense amount of clay; painting perfect and exact amounts of glaze onto the visage of an adolescent male. Months and months of work coming to fruition in the form of something she'd always wanted but had always eluded her.

This was the day that she'd brought her son into the world.

The day that she had finally filled him with magic and life, the day she'd created an extremely unique being.

Well, with the elemental power of Earth along with an innate grasp of magic courtesy of her parents and pure talent for ceramics, it was no wonder that she'd managed to create something that had never been done before.

A clay Golem, this time guided by a soul. A Golem with elemental powers, one that wasn't controlled by instructions on a small piece of paper or stone tablet placed under the tongue every morning.

There was free will. The ability to speak, to walk around, to eat and enjoy food, to feel emotions and love. All due to a neat and flowing script of runes dutifully marked over his body.

Cole lifted his hand and slowly ran his fingers over the scripture situated above his left collarbone. The words were a deep black colour, easily mistaken for a tattoo; the colour had faded just a little from what it used to be but the glyphs were still clear.

'Speech' or 'The act of speaking', was the literal translation.

Everything he was, was held in these short symbols on his skin, and without them he was literally nothing but a soulless automation with nothing else. No emotion, no self-awareness, no thoughts -- he'd been there before. Twice, actually.

The first time was on the Dark Island, and a misplaced swing from a stone warrior had taken a good chunk of stone from his shoulder and rendered the speech rune useless.

Then there was Chen's island, where all of the runes had been blurred due to the loss of his elemental abilities and with them his soul. That hadn't been a fun experience, from what he could remember of it. He was lucky he'd been able to plan for the scenario.

But the runes were a part of him, always had been.

He was Cole Brookstone, son of Lou and Gaia Brookstone, and today marked the ninth year of being given life.

His birthday. Even though, technically, he wasn't born by conventional means.

Even though he wasn't even human.

Cole let out a small breath and went over to his bed to get ready for the day, pulling his gi over his still sodden hair. At least he didn't need to keep his lack of humanity a secret anymore, since a damaged rune and Misako with an in depth knowledge of old magic made keeping everything under wraps pretty hard.

Though he had been lucky in some respect, since if Misako hadn't been there to explain the situation and help fix the rune, then Cole would have found it very hard to guide his then very concerned family as to how to properly put a broken Golem back together when he literally had no words to use. No voice. Nothing.

Still, birthday or not, there was no rest from training; not when the resident electric chicken had some method of finding its way into anyone's room who wasn't awake and in the courtyard on time.

Cole shuddered at the notion and towelled off his hair as best he could, though his gi had definitely not been spared from the water.

Today was just a normal day. A regular day. Birthday celebrations were never his thing anyway.

If he could just have a relaxing day training, then he'd class that as a win..

Though that went out the window as he swung open the door to his room, and the blue blur that was Jay shot past without so much as a 'Look out!'.

"Hey, watch where you're going, Ozone Breath! Some of us are still waking up!" Cole shouted down the hallway as he stepped out, his hands absentmindedly tightening his belt a little. Something to fiddle with.

Jay turned back with a grin and a raised eyebrow, "Someone hasn't had his morning coffee!" He shouted back, then turned and made his way outside.

How he had any energy at that time in the morning, Cole wasn't entirely sure. But he could put it down to him staying up all night playing video games, and running on leftover adrenaline and fumes.

At least that meant training would be a breeze.

Cole walked outside.

Everyone else was already there, and in a mixed state of wakefulness. Zane, as per usual, was sitting down in a meditative position near the centre of the pavilion; Kai was swinging his sword randomly at a training dummy before a large yawn broke free from his mouth.

Cole liked to think he was awake enough for early morning training, but the fuzziness in his vision and his slightly dragging feet even after a good shower said otherwise.

One good thing about the day was that no one was the wiser to it's significance. They just got on with everything, and for that he was thankful.

"Ever think we should move training into the afternoon." came Lloyd's voice as he walked out into the courtyard, stretching his arms above his head. If Sensei Wu had been within ear shot, those words would have earned a sharp tap to the head with his bo-staff.

Jay sighed, "We tried that once, but Sensei said we were wasting the day."

"And what better time to get things done?" Cole raised an eyebrow, spreading his hands as he walked towards the general middle of the group. "Train in the morning, then we have the rest of the day to do whatever."

"Morning should start at nine, not at six."

He couldn't help the eye roll at Jay's remark. "You know, maybe if you went to sleep instead of playing games all night you might not feel like walking roadkill. It's not like we're doing it for no reason, being a ninja is a full-time job." Cole looked around the group, "And I don't want Sensei to start messing with us again."

There seemed to be a unanimous thought that ran through the team in a second, and acknowledgement that no one wanted to go through that experience again. Even Zane winced at the memory of a booby trapped monastery.

Cole clapped his hands once.

"Right, sooner we start, sooner we'll finish. Sparring with weapons today, no powers."

"Ha! Because Kai is always losing his!"

There was a growled, "Shut it, Jay!” then Kai turned to face Cole, “Anyway, who said you were deciding what we were doing?" The question was general, and expected.

"I don't see anyone else with any plans. Plus, we need to learn to not rely on our abilities. We've all lost them before at some point or another."

"Yeah, but when we lose our powers we don't become decor." Jay said.

Cole rolled his eyes. He was used to that, the teasing, it actually made him smile slightly. If you couldn't laugh at your flaws--

He went over to the weapons rack and hefted a hammer. Heavy, but balanced. Perfect.

"Jay, you're with me."

Jay spluttered, "What? But I was going to go against Zane!"

"You can go against Zane afterwards, as well, if you want." Cole gave a slight smile, resting the head of the hammer against the ground, "Don't want to fight me? Scared or something?"

There was a laugh from behind him, and it sounded like Lloyd.

That just seemed to spur Jay on, his voice growing an octave. "Me, scared of you? Not in a million years, dirt clod."

"Really? You know, you had me fooled. I thought I saw you shaking in your boots."

Arcs of lightning flickered briefly over the chain of Jay's nunchucks before they died down just as fast, "I'm not-- You know what, fine! Just don't cry when I put you on your ass."

"I don't cry."

There was a brief pause, "Is that like a Golem thing? Or--"

"No, no, it's a choice. I just do the exact opposite of what you do and I haven't cried in years."

Cole could see Jay getting riled and tightened his grip on his hammer, but otherwise didn't move a muscle.

"You can fight Zane. I get it, don't want to go against me. No shame in admitting that you're--"

The first strike came as fast as lightning, and he'd barely shifted out of the way before the second one descended.

This wasn't Jay using his powers, he was just scary fast. Which was why the choice of sparring partner was to both of their advantages. Jay was fast, Cole was strong. They both had contending qualities that they needed to learn to fight against.

On the third strike, he lifted his hammer, supporting it with two hands and received a reverberating clang of metal through his arms when both the weapons made contact.

Though the fight didn't stop there, it was only getting started.

Cole already felt wide awake.

He stepped forwards and swung his weapon, missing Jay by a hair breadth.

The next blows were traded sharply, fluidly. Moving from offence to defence in less than a second.

Cole would be lying if he said he didn't like sparing against Jay. He was a formidable opponent, especially when he stopped cracking jokes and focused. Which was rare enough.

"Come on, Sparky, you really think some fancy nunchuck spins are going to beat me?" He took a small step back to catch his breath. He didn't know what the rest of the team was doing, but with the amount of area they were using up for this spar, they were probably watching what was happening.

Then in the next second Jay was right in front of him, and the nunchucks connected with his cheek a millisecond later.

Cole's face snapped sideways, though he held his ground. His feet barely even moved from their position, if only for a minor step back. His eyes widened, though he opened and closed his jaw as if to check it was still working, and still connected to his face.

His reaction to the strike, or lack thereof, seemed to translate over to Jay.

Jay, who stood there, slack jawed and nunchucks held loosely in his grip. "You just--! What?" He shouted, "You didn't even move! Did you even feel that?"

Cole carefully ran his fingers over his cheek. If that hit had been any harder, or with a more formidable weapon, it could have caused a bit of damage. "I felt something." He admitted, then raised an eyebrow at Jay, "Definitely something."

"You-- what? Was that like--" Jay paused, his hands moving a mile a minute, as if he was trying to find the words. "That was a Golem thing, wasn't it? That better have been a Golem thing!"

"It was a Golem thing." Cole admitted, then rolled his shoulders. "Try harder next time, you might make me take two steps back."

Famous last words.

They traded blows for another minute before Jay got another solid hit in.

This time a direct downwards strike to his shoulder, and Cole's hand immediately shot up to the site of the impact with a pained grunt.

Jay, meanwhile, seemed elated he'd got another hit in.

"Ow." Cole mumbled, wincing as he fingering at a gash that was now sliced into his gi. It was just washed, fresh on that morning and now he'd either have to stitch it or bin it.

No, Jay was going to fix it, if he was so happy to have caused the damage in the first place.

Cole straightened himself up, lightly waving off an approaching Zane with a small smile, then he wheeled around to the blue ninja dancing about the courtyard.

The hit had hurt, and whilst they were no stranger to bumps and grazes from training, they didn't purposefully aim for injury.

Jay had. Whether he'd realised it or not, he'd gone in with the intent to make contact again. Maybe get a better reaction than the brick wall one he'd gotten beforehand.

If Cole had been any closer to human, that strike would have shattered bone.

"Jay, you i- i-" Cole faltered for a second, the word catching sharply in his throat. He gave a small cough to clear it, and dropped his hammer down onto the stone inlay.

"Y- you i-." Cole frowned. He knew what he wanted to say, he knew what word he wanted to use.

It just wasn't coming out.

"Cole?" He saw Kai walking over, his eyebrows furrowed. "Are you okay?"

"I- I'm f- f- fine." He ground out, then brought a hand up to quickly cover his mouth.

Cole looked around the group, at their analysing and confused expressions; one hand was still cradled tightly over his shoulder.

"Are you hurt?" came the question, though Kai had probably already established an answer for that.

Cole definitely had.

Yet physically he felt fine, sure his shoulder stung and his words were jamming in his throat, but he was fine…

He was--

His words.

He quickly felt over his shoulder, his fingers moving in a calculated motion, small circles. Down over his chest, up to his neck, over his collarbone--

Then they dipped into a prominent crevice that hadn't been there that morning. A crack, he didn’t even need to look to know that. He could feel it, the flaking clay, the rough edges and the fissure that marred once smooth skin.

A crack, over his collarbone.

Directly through the runes.

____

Cross-posted to AO3

Part 2 coming soon!

#Golum AU #cole brookstone #cole ninjago #cole #ninjago #lego ninjago #lego #zane #kai #jay #lloyd #cole's mother #mcfanely draws #mcfanely writes #mcfanely #razzle-zazzle #fanfiction

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ehrhys · 5 years ago

Text

The Phoenix Court: Ch 1

Dramione Medieval Fantasy AU

Rating: M for later chapters

Summary:

A long standing tradition in the kingdom of Alban is for royal heirs to be chosen from amongst the Alban noble houses. Presumptive heirs are fostered by the king at his court and the heir is chosen at the formal event, the Declaration. Two rival princes vie for the throne, and a young woman arrives at court to seek knowledge. Will ambitions be realized and love grow while enemy kingdoms and civil war threaten to tear the kingdom of Alban apart?

When Hermione’s father is given the position of advisor to King Albus Dumbledore, the Grangers come to court. Hermione hopes to find a teacher to help her master the magical arts, but she must balance her dreams with the ambitions her family has for her.

Prince Draco hopes to become the heir to Alban’s royal house and spends his time honing himself to become the perfect successor to the throne. Familial pressure and his own ambitions drive himself to succeed in The Declaration, but one obstacle stands in his way, his rival Prince Harry.

LINKS: FF.NET & AO3

“Hermione, sweeting, stop fussing with your skirt! You’re going to wrinkle your dress!” Lady Granger said. Hermione’s mother swatted at her daughter’s hands in impatience. “We have finally come to court, this is your chance to impress and beguile.” Hermione didn’t stop though, if anything her mother’s word only agitated her more. Hermione had been overjoyed when her father returned home, victorious from war and with news of his promotion. The Grangers were minor nobles and her father had been given a position as an advisor to King Albus Dumbledore in thanks for his contributions to the war against the enemy kingdom of Mordurm. With that new position came many benefits, a place for the Granger’s at court, new titles, and most importantly for Hermione, the chance to find a master who could continue her training in the magical arts.

Hermione’s initial excitement had begun to give way to nerves now that she had been at the palace for a few days and her mother’s talk of the princes and of social climbing were too much for her to bear. Tonight King Albus would be holding a banquet and ball. The thought of mixing with so many nobles and influential courtiers had Hermione’s stomach in knots. Her mother’s constant efforts to “help” her daughter prepare for the festivities only agitated Hermione further. In this moment, Lady Granger seemed to realize her efforts had gone too far and she sighed and clasped her daughter’s hands in her own.

“My sweeting,” Lady Granger said, “Stop fussing. You have grown into a lovely and intelligent young woman.”

At this Hermione gave her mother a ghost of a smile. Lady Granger let go of her daughters hands and lovingly smoothed over Hermione’s skirt. Once she was satisfied, she stepped back to admire her daughter, “You will be a shining star at court. No one can match you, daughter. Surely you will catch the eye of the Potter heir.”

“He’s not the heir yet, My Lady” Lord Granger said, the mention of the heir piquing his interest, “The Declaration has not yet been made. Either of the princes still have an equal chance of winning the throne.”

Lady Granger tutted with impatience, “I love you, My Lord, but you are more blind than most. Everyone knows that our king favors Prince Harry. The boy is hardly away from the King’s side.”

“Prince Harry is a fine young man, skilled in battle and the people have much love for him, but Prince Draco is not to be put aside. The house of Malfoy is old and powerful and his abilities in the arcane arts are formidable. He is a — er — dragon on the battlefield.” Lord Granger said, proud of himself and his pun. He winked mischievously at his daughter.

Lady Granger rolled her eyes and playfully swatted her husband’s arm. “Dragon or no, skill in battle does not mean skill in governance.”

Hermione suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, she didn’t want to hear her parents debate about the Declaration or the Princes again. She decided to quickly sideline the conversation, “Mother, I am not you. What if I don’t want to marry the heir or marry at all?”

Her mother completely froze, and squinted at her daughter in mock disgust, “I know you are saying those words to provoke me, and I will not comment.” And with those words the budding argument was forgotten as Lady Granger left the sitting room to deal with her next task elsewhere.

Hermione felt too riled up to go back to her reading so she paced about the room, inspecting the fireplace and admiring the intricate carvings on the walls. Scenes of dancing nymphs frolicking in the sun were rendered with precise detail. Hermione admired the artistry, tracing her hands along the figure of a nymph halfway between turning from a tree into a woman.

She thought over her mother’s words and knew her ambitions were not misplaced. The current king did not care for social status and instead chose to surround himself with advisors who impressed him with their wit, magical abilities, and prowess in war; regardless of their social standing. Minor nobles like the Grangers could find easy paths to power with such a king.

Hermione found herself thinking of the possibilities of what could be accomplished with the new honors and titles given to her father for his achievements in the war. She had more planned for her life than simply marrying well. Her father, himself an amateur scholar, had impressed upon Hermione the value of knowledge. She eagerly devoured the books at Granger manor and her tutors had nothing but praise for her progress. Above all, Hermione was gifted in magic, the very skill the king prized, and she hoped to find a master at court to help her grow beyond the knowledge contained at the Granger home, Greenwood castle.

She and her mother were thrilled with the idea of coming to court but for different reasons, while Lady Granger thrived on the fantasy of moving up in the world, Hermione longed to master secrets of magic. Secrets that she hoped the scholars of King Albus’s court would someday teach to her. The famed alchemist Nicholas Flamel was a patron of the crown, as well as the skilled potioneers Severus Snape and Horace Slughorn. Most impressive to Hermione was the formidable sorceress Minerva McGonagall who had mastered the ability to transfigure herself into every manner of magical and non-magical creature.

To Hermione, the court was a place of endless possibilities where she could pursue her desires while still being an obedient daughter to her parents. She would marry well, but it would be on her terms. She would find someone smart who valued her intelligence, someone who wouldn’t control her, and of course someone whom she loved and loved her in return. Her parents had been lucky to marry for love when so many marriages were made to advance families. All she knew was a family of love and she felt she could only be true to herself if she could live in love.

Her mother’s happy voice broke her musings as Hermione was called into her parent’s bed chamber. Her mother ushered her over to the bed where a fine gown of ocean blue silk had been laid out. Hermione had never seen a gown so beautiful. The intricate floral embroidery and lace that bordered the bodice, coupled with the delicate silver beads that trailed down the sleeves took her breath away. “A gift for you, my sweeting, to wear to tonight’s banquet.” Lady Granger said beaming.

“Thank you, mama,” Hermione said as she embraced her mother, kissing her on the cheek. Lady Granger called for her lady’s maid to come and dress Hermione and style her hair. By the time the Granger’s were ready to join the banquet, Hermione’s nerves were long forgotten, replaced once again by the excitement of the upcoming night.

@@@@@

Hogwarts castle’s great hall was filled with a throng of nobles and warriors all dressed in their finery. Tonight marked a hard won peace deal with the neighboring kingdom of Mordurm. Their kingdom, Alban, had come out as the victor in the war, having taken several castles and fertile farming grounds from the Mordurm. King Gellert Grindlewald, the sovereign of Mordurm, had lost his nephew and heir in the most recent battle, and if the rumors were to be believed, the enemy king was so distraught that the will to fight had left him. Most people scoffed at the tale, Grindlewald was feared as a cruel ruler even amongst his own people. He craved power and certainly wouldn’t take the loss of his heir and lands quietly. Hermione felt that whatever reason for peace, it couldn’t last, but she pushed the negative thoughts from her mind at the sight of the celebration.

Hermione marveled at the artistry of the great hall. Elegant stone pillars carved into the shapes of lions, eagles, snakes, and badgers, the emblems of the founders of Alban, lined the expanse of the hall. The tables were arranged around a large hearth at the center of the hall that filled the room with smoky warmth and light. From Hermione’s position at a side table, she could see the King seated at the head table with the princes on either side of him. The king was deep in conversation with his son to the right, which Hermione assumed was Prince Harry because of his dark hair. The pair laughed merrily, seemingly unaware of the rest of the court seated around them. The other prince, Draco, spoke to a stout, ruddy faced man to his left. The stout man drank deeply from his goblet before letting out a laugh, clearly enjoying his conversation with the prince. The prince returned his companions' mirth with a polite smile.

Dinner passed quickly. Many sumptuous dishes made their way to the banquet, pottage, venison, and a main course of an ornately arranged pheasant stuffed with apples, walnuts, and plums. An array of dessert tarts and pasties followed soon after. Hermione savored each bite, eating until she felt as stuffed as the pheasant.

Once the banquet ended, the ball began. The court moved to a second hall as large as the first. Hermione was captivated by the enchanted ceiling that mirrored the sky outside. Tonight a full moon shone upon the revelers, not a single cloud passed by all night.

Lively music began, and courtiers gathered in groups to participate in the dance. Hermione found herself in a dancing circle flanked by two young men, one with a pleasant round face and another with angular but handsome features. As a new song began, the group joined hands and danced around in a circle skipping and hopping to the beat. Around and around they spun, Hermione threw her head back in delighted laughter. Oh, how nice it was to come to court. She could dance under the moon forever.

Some time during the song the circle broke to form a line that weaved around the dance floor. Hermione, the round faced boy, and a charming blonde girl made up the rear of the line. As the pace of the music quickened, the round faced boy’s foot snagged on the carpet, taking Hermione and a blonde girl tumbling down with him while the other dancers moved on. The courtiers around them laughed in amusement as the boy apologized profusely to the two women. Ignoring the snide laughter, the blonde was quick to reassure him, “Not to worry, Lord Neville, I am not harmed are you Lady—?“

“Hermione Granger,” Hermione finished, “and I am unharmed. Maybe now is a good time to rest and get a drink seeing as our dancing group has moved on without us.”

“Shall we all go find a refreshment then?” The blonde girl asked.

The other two nodded in agreement and with that, the two women helped Lord Neville to his feet. Hermione noticed that he blushed when the blonde girl took his arm and she smiled shyly back.

Hermione flagged down a server carrying goblets of spiced wine and soon the three were rosy faced and chatting amiably. Hermione learned the blonde girl was named Lady Hannah Abbot and that Neville belonged to the Longbottom clan, both old and prestigious families. Hermione could hear her mother’s voice imploring her to make an impression with these two, but Hermione was just relieved to have made new friends at court. Hannah kept laying her hands on Neville’s arm or running her fingers through his hair while the boy, happy at her attentions, kept blushing redder and redder. An idea came to Hermione as she watched the two, and she said, “I heard that the castle gardens are a work of art, that the Herbologist Pomona Sprout had a hand in creating it.”

“She did!” Neville replied enthusiastically, ”I’ve been taken on as her apprentice, you see, and it really is amazing! Vervain, devil’s snare, mandrakes! The palace greenhouses have everything!

“Don’t forget about the living hedge maze!” Hannah said.

“A living hedge maze?” Hermione asked.

“Oh yes! The maze is enchanted to rearrange itself every so often,” Hannah explained, “Believe me, I would have been lost for days if Neville and Madam Sprout hadn’t have found me…”

Neville’s blush returned and he drank deeply from his goblet as if the object were something to hide behind.

“I want to see this maze! Hannah, Neville, show me please,” Hermione said smiling as she grabbed her two companions and ushered them towards the entrance hall.

The maze was just as incredible as Hannah and Neville said. Ten foot tall hedges reached towards the sky and the entrance was decorated with an arch made of two interlocking phoenixes, whose wings and tail feathers moved gently, as if alive. The trio entered the maze, and the heads of the phoenixes turned to follow them. Oblivious, the little group chatted about court life and how Hermione would have many future balls and banquets to look forward too. Would she even get to meet the princes? Hermione thought to herself. The court seemed like a different world where anything could happen.

The three new friends ambled around, turning this way and that, trying to find the end of the maze and the “must be seen” mermaid lake. In the middle of Neville’s harrowing story about the court fool getting drunk and fighting a violent tree, the bush to Hermione’s right began to shake. Hannah sighed in delight and stepped closer to Hermione to whisper in her ear, “it’s happening! The maze is going to move.”

But much to everyone’s disappointment, somewhere in the distance an owl hooted, and a gopher scuttled out from the bush and across the pathway, eager to avoid becoming a late night meal. Just as Hermione was about to suggest they keep on moving, the bushes began to quiver again and branches slithered out, weaving together to reform a new wall. Hermione jumped forward away from Hannah and Neville and quickly dodged a particularly large branch that could have knocked her over. Hermione’s new friends disappeared behind the newly woven hedge wall. “Hannah! Neville! We’re cut off,” Hermione said, calling out to them.

Moments passed then Hermione heard Hannah and Neville’s voices, “Lady Hermione will you be able to find your way back? Should we call for help?”

“No, don’t worry about me! I could use some time to cool down before I go back. Have a good night you two!” Hermione said.

The hidden pair called out their goodbyes and Hermione surged forward onto the freshly made path laughing as she went. She had been wandering this way and that, analyzing the patterns in the ground tiles that would hopefully guide her to the end of the maze. She thought she cracked the code hidden in the tiles, but a wall of hedges blocked her path. She was about to turn around and try again when the hedges shook to life and the branches started unraveling before her, exposing the end of the maze.

Hermione felt so proud, she had made it to the mermaid lake. She took in the sight of the lake with a tiered fountain near it’s edge. Bronze mermaids lounged on rocks scattered artfully around the lake. Just like the phoenixes, these statues moved, some mermaids brushed out their hair or stared at their reflections in the water. The water sparkled as it was filled with the moonlight, giving the area an ethereal glow. This truly was a sight that shouldn’t be missed.

As Hermione moved closer to the lake’s edge, she noticed a figure laying in the grass by the shoreline. It moved to stand as she approached and Hermione came face to face with his royal majesty, Prince Draco of the house of Malfoy.

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading this story! Let me know what you think. This is the first fanfic I’ve written in years so please be kind.

EDIT: This is a re-upload. I changed the title from “The Declaration” to “The Phoenix Court”.

#dramione #dramione fanfic #dramione fanficition #dramione fandom #draco x hermione #hermione x draco #hermione granger #draco malfoy #dramione au #harry potter au #harry potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfic #hp #harry potter fanfiction #hermione #draco

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tjstephsworld · 5 years ago

Text

Of books and crushes (Todoroki Shouto)

The last lesson of the day ended, the teacher leaving the class at the same time the bell chimed. The students of Class 1-A began leaving the class for their homes.

(Y/n) remained seated on her chair, finishing on some work before she left for home. She, however, was unaware of the stare coming from the dual-haired male who sat at the back row.

Shouto was nervous.

That was a word that had never been associated with him, but here he was, feeling like he could jump out of the window. Outwardly, he looked calm and collected as always but inside, he felt like he could explode. Everyone else had left the class, leaving only him and the (h/c)-haired girl. He was sure that she hadn't even noticed that since she looked busy at the moment.

He had stayed behind purposely because he had finally decided to confess his feelings to her. The feelings that he's been hiding for so long.

Even though he had confirmed of them, he still couldn't understand how he could be so careless. When joining U.A, he was focused on only one thing but then after crossing paths with (Y/n), he found himself wanting something else apart from being the number one hero. So he couldn't keep them inside him any longer, he had to tell her.

Shouto stood up from his seat, shoving his hands deep into his pockets as he walked towards the girl. As the distance grew shorter, the beat of his heart increased. He stood beside the girl's desk, taking in a deep breath for what was to come.

"(Y/n)."

Said girl stopped what she was doing to look up at the male who was staring down at her with indifference. If only she knew that was a facade to hide his true feelings.

"What is it, Todoroki?" she inquired, raising an eyebrow at the male.

Shouto briefly glanced at her work before going back to her. "Are you doing the work the teacher left?"

(Y/n) smiled and nodded. "Uh yeah. I figured I'd finish here since there's a lot of distractions at home. What about you?"

Shouto's eyes widened slightly but he quickly composed himself. He had found the perfect chance.

"Me too," he said. "Would you like to do it together with me?"

(Y/n) blinked in surprise at his request. Shouto was known to prefer working alone so his sudden request took her by surprise.

"Uh...sure. Why not?" she quickly accepted, making Shouto's heart skip a beat. "Do you want to do it here, or the library?"

"Library," he answered almost too quickly but then added. "It's quieter."

"Sure. Let me get my things," she said.

***

Shouto stood opposite from (Y/n) as they searched for the books for their work. The silence between them ate at Shouto, who was busy thinking of what to tell her.

"I can't find the book you were talking about," he admitted making the girl turn to him.

"Huh?" her forehead creased. "It was here last time.

The girl searched through the books. Due to this, she leaned nearer to Shouto, whose cheeks turned a fiery red from the proximity.

"Here it is," she proclaimed, breaking Shouto from his reverie. She took the book and gave it to him with a smile. Shouto gradually took it, his breath hitching when his fingers accidentally brushed against (Y/n)'s.

The girl was unaware of what she was doing to him as she passed by him towards the study area. Shouto followed her, disgruntled from all his body's reaction to her.

He sat next to her as they began their work.

***

After thirty minutes into the work, Shouto couldn't take it.

He had hardly concentrated in the work as all he could do was stare at (Y/n). How eyes lit up when she was curious, how she would bite her lip when in deep thought, how she would laugh when she made a mistake.

How could someone be so perfect?

No wonder he fell for her. They weren't close but Shouto was a good observer, especially from the sidelines. She was intelligent, strong, tactful, funny and silent at the same time, understanding and hardworking. She even knew how to handle a hot head like Katsuki without breaking a sweat. All these attributes struck a chord in his heart and he couldn't get his mind off her.

He had to have her.

"Hey, I just realized that we didn't get one book," (Y/n) spoke up, bringing Shouto from his thoughts. "I'll be right back, okay?"

"Yeah," he simply answered, his mismatched eyes watching her as she stood up and made her way to the shelves.

***

"Which one...which one..." (Y/n) muttered while tapping her chin in thought. Her eyes trailed over the books arranged on the shelves until she stopped.

"This one!" she smiled, pulling the book and taking it into her hands. As she went to back away, her back hit something behind her. It didn't take her long to realize it was someone's chest, a male's chest precisely.

Before she could turn to see who it was, a head buried itself in her neck as his hands grabbed the shelf in front of (Y/n), caging her in.

(Y/n) gasped in surprise upon feeling the male's hot breath fan against her neck as fear rose in her heart.

"(Y/n)..."

The girl's eyes widened at the husky, deep voice that pronounced her name.

"T-Todoroki?! What are-what are you-?!"

"Call me Shouto," Shouto commanded gently, nuzzling his nose against the crook of her neck and taking in her scent.

"Huh?!" the girl grew even more confused than ever. Never had Shouto acted like this, he even asked her to call her by his first name.

"I like you, (Y/n)," Shouto breathed out, enjoying immensely the feel of her body against his. "I'm crazy about you."

It was like he had snapped. They were alone in the library, in exception of the librarian who had stepped out. Knowing that he was all alone with her gave him thoughts that he would be ashamed to speak of aloud. And watching her just intensified those thoughts. He was acting out of himself but he didn't give a damn about it. His earlier nervousness was replaced with a carnal desire that knew no bounds.

(Y/n), on the other hand, had frozen on the spot from his confession.

She couldn't believe his words. He liked her?! She couldn't understand how she hadn't noticed it yet here he was, running his nose along her neck, sending shivers to her. In all honesty, she did find the male attractive, hella attractive but she had never put much thought in that since he didn't seem like the type to even return feelings.

She opened her mouth to say something but was cut off by Shouto.

"Don't say anything," he ordered, placing a kiss on her neck, earning him a gasp from (Y/n). "You don't have to give your answer now. But I will wait."

"What do you mean?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She wasn't afraid, knowing that he wouldn't hurt her for no reason but she was a bit unnerved.

"I'm a patient person, so I'll wait," he clarified and exhaled pleasurably. "Oh, (Y/n), what're you doing to me? You confuse me. Making me experience feelings I've never felt before...I want you, you know."

The girl's breath hitched only to make Shouto chuckle.

"Don't worry. I'll never make you do something you never want to," he pulled away from her, allowing her to turn around and face him.

He sighed and cupped her cheek, lovingly tracing her skin with his thumb in assurance. She was still speechless from what had happened. His character had done a full 180 turn twice and she couldn't catch up.

"I love you, (Y/n)."

His blunt confession still managed to hit her hard, rendering her incapable of coherent speech.

"And I'll wait. As long as it takes, for you to love me back. Okay?"

"Uh..." the girl began but gasped when Shouto placed a kiss on her cheek before walking away.

She tightly hugged the book to her chest, her beating heart threatening to jump out as she stared at the spot where he was standing. Her legs gave in, making her slide to the ground, still in shock.

She laid her head back on the shelf and stared at the ceiling with widened eyes.

"What just...happened...?"

***

#todoroki shoto x reader #bnha shoto todoroki #boku no hero academia #mha shouto #reader insert #shouto todoroki

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domesticatedantelope · 6 years ago

Text

appetite

Pairing: Colt x MC

Rating: Explicit | NSFW 18+

Word Count: 1500

Summary: The one where Colt and Mercy christen the front door.

Kinktober Day 1: cunnilingus, swallowing.

@brightpinkpeppercorn @desiree-0816 @leelee10898 @client-327 @octobereighth @liamzigmichael4ever @mskaneko @navigatorholmes @choicesarehard @lovehugsandcandy @aworldoffandoms @anxious-arliah @zaffrenotes @waytooattuned

There are better places for this.

If he were a more patient man, or more considerate, he’d take her somewhere comfortable - but right now, he is neither of those things.

He’s on his knees and he is starving.

And Mercy - she looks good enough to eat.

Squirming and pinned against the front door, fingers wound into his hair, the sound of his name breathy on her voice (Colt, Colt, soft gospel syllables, nobody says it like she does) and further fraying as he claims her inner thighs with teeth and tongue. Pink flush paints her cheekbones, shyness and excitement, shadow of a smile curling at the corner of her mouth.

“Here?” she asks, too innocent, like he might forgive her all the longing looks and teasing kisses.

Mercy is her lot in life, not his; Colt has hunger pangs and sweet tooth cravings and an instinct to retaliate, and he is not one to deny his nature.

“You’re lucky we made it this far,” he tells her, smirking as he shoves her dress above her hips.

She tips her head back and laughs, shaky sighs that fast unravel when his mouth reaches the lace between her thighs. He feels the shiver rattle through her, liquid heat beneath his tongue, thumbing her thong aside to taste where she is warm and wet with slick.

Mercy stiffens, whimpers, tensing in her hips and legs. She tugs his hair between her fingers, hard enough to sting and draw a groan from somewhere in his lungs as his tongue maps practiced circles in against her clit. She sucks her lip as if she might stifle her growing whine, but it breaks loose and sings like music in his ears. His head spins, dizzied by her voice, the silk and taste of her against his tongue.

Her muscles flex and start to tremble, one leg slotting into place over his shoulder, locking him against her. A savage sense of pride swells in his chest, and he indulges himself with the soft span of her thighs, kissing and biting while his fingers rise between them, seeking, finding, pushing in to fill her.

“O-oh, god, that’s-!” Spasms wrack her hips, the sole of her boot slipping and losing traction as she scrabbles to drag him closer. “So good, Colt, please!”

He fucks his fingers deeper in slow increments, waiting to hear her beg before obliging her with more, the flat of his tongue keeping languid pace. Eventually the borders of her words dissolve away and she can only mouth at vowels, voice split into pleading sounds. He feels the points of her nails scoring lines into his shoulder, precious little pains that barely hurt at all; some nights, she leaves her mark in reddened arcs across his back, where they sting for days and days. Need throbs down from that biting pain to the stiff, twitching weight of his cock, aching for friction.

“Pleasepleaseplease,” releases through her teeth, the tension gripping her in waves and waning off to shudders, climbing just to fall again. Telltale moans catch in her throat, and she rocks shakily against his mouth, gasping when his lips round to pull gently at her clit.

Colt lifts his gaze to watch her features twist with bliss, crooking his fingers, groaning at the wet, soft heat of her around them. She’s close, breakneck on a collision course, and babbling as she nears climax, breathless professions of her love, and his heart pounds in his chest with every frantic sighing of his name.

He rolls his tongue, his fingertips nudging against that tender point inside of her, and with the last hitch of her hips, Mercy unravels. Climax seizes her in phases: hands clenched into fists, white at the knuckles as she sobs and arches back against the door. “Yes, yes, fuck,” lifts and stutters on her tongue, and she clings to him with shaking hands, shattered and panting when the height of her rush breaks and fades away.

She slumps to her knees, abruptly drained of strength, shaping a pool of weightless limbs against the floor. Aftershocks still shiver in her body, and she watches him with lidded eyes, flashing a tipsy smile as he swipes a hand over his mouth.

“Couldn’t make it to the bed?” she rasps, tracing a thumb across his bottom lip.

“Some things can’t wait.”

Her eyes are dark and satisfied as they drag lovingly down the length of his body, lingering where he is hard and waiting for her, and she doesn’t say as much, but her smile seems to agree. Determination hardens in her features, and that wicked glance is all the warning he gets before she shoves him back against the wall. Her fingers tremble at the buckle of his belt, her cheeks still flushed from coming when she dips her mouth to kiss the muscles in his stomach, tense beneath the skin. Slim fingers trace the shape of him, teasing at pressure, the warmth of her breath sinking through his clothes. Her lips lift the length of his cock, pausing to suck softly at the swollen head, and then she’s slipping his pants down and he is flush against the wet heat of her mouth, her lips closing to draw him in over the soft pink of her tongue.

Blazing pleasure claws up through his nerves. He fights to keep his eyes open, to watch as Mercy holds his gaze and takes him deeper, tears welling at her lashes when he nudges at the tight grasp of her throat, then even deeper, and she shouldn’t, doesn’t have to, but oh god, he is helpless to stop her, rendered weak and speechless with each torturous curl of her tongue around him.

His cock glistens when she retreats, slicking a hand around the base of him and dragging wrings of friction that make stars appear behind his eyelids, pleasure hooking deep beneath his gut and winding tighter, glimpsing into something just beyond his reach. The sound of her name falters on his voice, one hand weaving gingerly into the silk threads of her hair, and it takes all of his restraint not to grip down and fuck into that tempting heat, his fingers twitching restlessly with need.

Mercy normally maintains a certain order of appearance, type A to the letter, and it thrills him to no end that he’s left her in such delicious disarray, the curtain of her hair messied and free, her dress rucked thoughtlessly aside, her mouth - oh, fuck, her mouth - swollen and wet and sealing into that breathtaking fit around his cock. He drinks in all the angles of her face, losing her features to a blissful blur as scorching heat rives into him, and he can only whine her name out through his teeth.

Her lips sink tight around him, and she sucks, kneading with perfect suction, knots of pleasure twisting in the pit of his gut. Every part of him feels taut with tension, riding on the edge of an oblivion that threatens to swallow him whole, and with the taste of her still warm and slick at the back of his tongue, he gasps a ragged fuck and jerks and comes into the cavern of her mouth.

Blindly, he feels her tongue tracing around him, sucking through the lightning flashes of his climax, persisting even when the peak fades into overstimulation, and he pleads her, “Mercy, Mercy, please,” wracked with shivers as she finally releases him.

He staggers half a step back, swaying on his feet. Heaving for breath, he reaches out to curl a hand beneath her jaw, leading her face up with a firm tilt of his fingers.

Mercy needs no further guidance. She parts her lips and lets her mouth fall open to expose where he has spilled in pools of white across her tongue.

A wounded noise hooks in his throat. He stares, spellbound, some filthy, sinful part of him roaring with satisfaction at the sight - his cum in Mercy’s mouth, his frenzied heartbeat deafening between his ears, and every pulse echoes with certainty: she’s mine, she’s mine, she’s mine.

At the gentle prompting of his touch under her chin, she seals her lips and swallows, throat working as she takes him down her throat. Afterward, her tongue curls out to lick the wet line of her lips, tasting the last trace of him before a shy but bliss-dazed smile lights her face.

Feeling his knees wobble, Colt sinks down to the floor, sighing when cold tiles cool his overheated skin. With a pleased little hum, Mercy wiggles her way into his arms, sketching unsteady fingers at the ink of his tattoo. They sprawl together on the floor, two steps from the front door, and if he had the strength, he’d bring her to their bed, where she can bask in afterglow among the comfort of their sheets.

But Mercy threads her fingers through his hair, whispers “I love you,” soft against his ear, a secret just between the two of them, and for the moment, there is nowhere else he’d rather be.

#ride or die #choices ride or die #playchoices #colt kaneko #colt x mc #ns*fw #aaaand we're off into kinktoberland~#please let me know if you'd like to be removed from any tags since i plan to put out as many fics as i can this month!#and i don't wish to overwhelm anybody's notifications #thanks as always for giving a read! it means so much to me!#ship: power couple #dom writes

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ultraeloquentposts-blog · 5 years ago

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👩‍⚕️THE OTHER SIDE 👩‍⚕️

Time: 3.45 a.m – Peaceful Nights ???

“Jatatavigalajjala pravahapavitasthale

Galeavalambya lambitam bhujangatungamalikam

Damad damaddama ninadavadamarvayam

Chakara chandtandavam tanotu nah shivah shivam”

Brain: “Whaaaaaaaaaaaat?”

Heart: (Dub dub dub dub dub heartbeat racing fast).

Brain: “Aaaaahhh it’s the alarm.”

“But I just closed my eyes.”

“How does it matter, it’s time, I need to check on the patients downstairs.

But again, I gave all the necessary instructions on my last visit, they should not need me again.

What if the new-borns are hungry or if they oversleep? What if the mother sleeps while feeding the baby? MMMMMaybe I just ask the nurse on duty to have a look. Yeah, this sounds good, if there is a problem, she will call me. “

She picks up the intercom to ask the nurse on duty if all is good.

Yet again, her brain plays the angel “But then I am already awake, better I have a look myself” (faces of the new-born babies blink in her eyes).

She sneaks out of the bed, hoping that she will be back in the cozy comfort quickly and heads straight up to the dressing room to change into something elegant – Yeah, Doctors don’t get the privilege to step out wearing a night robe in their comfy gown, even in the middle of the night. Why? Well, let us ask our judging selves, what if my doctor comes in a comfy night rob to visit me. My illness goes in a corner and my judging-self starts talking “What a mess, is she really a doctor?” “Look at her, how is she supposed to handle my case?” Is she even hygienic or disciplined enough?”

We have learned to judge people on their appearance. With certain exceptions, we have learned that it’s okay to be a little biased for “the thing of beauty”, after all, we are the society that has labeled fair “Lovely” and skinny “Desirable”. So, judging your doctor who just walked out of the bed is involuntary.

Yes, ironically 12 years of hard work and 10 years of studies, will be easily judged and rendered unworthy in that small minute.

After changing and splashing some water on her face, she is quite awake. Her face and eyes, in particular, are swelled, begging her for some rest. But She is a doctor, she is in charge of the life. How can she, be at ease not knowing her patients’ status, she can’t have mercy on herself. Hence, ignoring her swelled up face, aching body and paining legs. She rushes downstairs to check on her patients with new-born babies. She has facilitated 1 C-Section and 1 Normal delivery in her own nursing home today. The C-Section had twins, then there is an infant from the C-Section of yesterday.

She always gets this proud feeling when a child is delivered healthy, when both the mother and baby are healthy. As if, she herself is the family who was supposed to take care of the mother and as if she herself is the mother who has just delivered that healthy baby. She does not care about the caste/creed/color/appearance of her patients, the only thing that makes her happy is the good health of the mother and baby. But unfortunately, this is something not good enough for the people and society. We have taken healthcare for granted, failed to appreciate their selfless hard work until it has directly affected us. Yes, she does get treated like a goddess when people realize that it is actually about life and death. But, knowing her in person, I want her (and every doctor out there) to know that we literally owe our lives to them.

The babies need to be fed milk solution as Mothers won’t still be able to feed the new-borns. Quite often the caretakers doze off and the baby might stay hungry, she has to make sure that the babies are fed and the mother is OK. However, the mother from yesterday’s C-Section was trained on feeding today and should try feeding her baby. Also, the new-borns need to be fed every 2 hours, which means no continuous sleep for mothers. Hence, as a doctor, she prefers putting up a midnight alarm to check on patients if everything is fine. The major risk remains with the patients whose baby is a few days old, as their families/elders tell them how to feed the baby while lying on the bed (being concerned about the mother’s condition). But this is a big “No” and is not at all allowed.

Reason? – Mothers are too tired, out of the injury of C-Section or the big fight of normal delivery along with waking up every 2 hours trying to feed their baby and a major possibility is for them to doze off while feeding the baby. There are cases wherein the mother was feeding the baby lying on the bed when she dozed off and the baby suffocated to death due to the weight of the breast. She makes sure to avoid any such incidents by checking continuously on her patients.

After calming down the 1 day old and instructing the nurse to feed him powdered milk, she moves to the next room, and to her surprise the patient is feeding her baby lying on bed and the patient's eyes are closed in sleep. “Why are you lying on the bed, you need to sit and then feed the baby. You are not supposed to lie down comfortably while feeding.” Then she turns to the caretaker and asks the patient's mother in law for why is she not keeping an eye. It is this time, the mom-in-law makes a snarky remark “It’s all a new drama these days, I have fed all kids like that, and nothing has gone wrong. It’s our will how we want to feed the baby, what is your problem.”

She tries to explain “The mother has a very high chance of falling asleep if she is lying down and the baby might suffocate because of the breast weight, as he will not be able to move his head”. The M-I-L argues back “It's not possible, we all have fed our babies, this is rubbish. Just, release us tomorrow, this is all a drama, we could have delivered at home, doctors just need a reason to cut the stomach. In our times, we delivered all healthy babies at home. These doctors are here only to make money.”

This is the time, it pinches her heart, the patient was in labor for 8 hours. She was continuously monitoring her situation; she could hear the baby’s heartbeat going slower and slower. This is when she asked the mother and family to hear for themselves and let her go for C-section as soon as possible. Delivery at home was not an option here. But she can’t go on explaining everyone – that way her day would need to have an extra 12 hours. “I would complete my medical duties and discharge you as soon as I can. I have no interest but the baby and mother’s health” Before the lady can utter any more nonsense, she turns to her nurse and tells her to be vigilant here and let her know if there are any further issues.

The twins have had their food and are sound asleep, she moves back upstairs, washes her hands, changes clothes, drinks some water and by the time she is back in bed, it’s 4.45 am.

Thanks to her hectic life, sleep is always around the corner for her. She falls asleep right away.

6.00 am – Never Early to Bed but Always Early to Rise!!!

“Jatatavigalajjala pravahapavitasthale

Galeavalambya lambitam bhujangatungamalikam

Damad damad damaddama ninadavadamarvayam

Chakara chandtandavam tanotu nah shivah shivam”

Dub dub dub dub.. the heart races again with a pinch of pain in the head.

Brain games are here again: “No you don’t need to get up.

5 minutes won’t hurt.

I promise I don’t need that alarm; I will be back awake with a quick 5 minutes of a power nap.

The patients were fine. The girls? Come on, I will fix a quick lunch in 15 minutes and 10 minutes to get them out of bed.

But the girls need cuddling and then getting ready, that will take 15 minutes. Total 30 minutes, I have an extra 10 minutes, 5 minutes to sleep and 5 minutes to be awake. I can do it.

Aaaahh. See, I passed 5 minutes in all the calculations when I could have slept nicely.”

She drags herself out of the cosy blanket and sleepily moves to the washroom to splash her face awake again. After which she straight away comes back to bed to wake her sleeping beauties up. She is a proud mom of two beautiful daughters Manya & Ananya. They have only 50 minutes for their school bus. The girls toss and turn to sleep back but she lovingly embraces them, kissing them again and again and telling them it’s time for school. After getting the girls out of bed, on their feet, she instructs them to get ready quickly. While the girls are getting ready, she heads to the kitchen to fix a quick yet innovative and tasty lunch. The lunch must be on par with the other kids and if she does not want food back, she better makes it tasty. It is already a pain to feed Manya – she has an inbuilt disrelish towards most of the food. Once the lunches are ready, she gets breakfast on the dining table and rushes to check if the girls are ready.

Manya is moving around with her hair still not braided, while Ananya is ready for breakfast with her school bag. She asks Manya to start with her breakfast and she goes on braiding her hair, while she eats.

Girls have left for school; she now makes a nice tea for herself and her husband who is reading the newspaper by now.

The maid will be here any minute, she quickly checks her messages and catches some news on T.V. She needs to check on her patients again, before going to her workplace.

8.00 am - & The Day (which never ended) Begins

At 8.00 she takes a look at the patients. Where luckily, all is good. She then drives towards the hospital, it’s OPD today (hospitals usually have 1 day dedicated for operations and 1 day dedicated to outdoor patient’s check-up) and patients are already queuing out.

After checking patients till 2.00 pm, with a 15 minutes tea break, she heads to the college building as she has to give a lecture in the college building. Doctors are supposed to teach medical students as well. On the way, she smiles remembering the funny media person interviewing her on doctor’s day and asking her if she thinks that medical students are not getting proper teachers in India. To be a medical professor in India, it’s not enough to be a doctor, but you have to keep up your research work and you must get papers continuously published. The medical profession has the toughest eligibility criteria for teachers, but people believe in sold media or unauthenticated WhatsApp forwards instead of trying to find out the truth.

At 3.00 pm she is out from the lecture and finally headed towards home.

By 4.00 pm after checking on her patients, she is eager to catch a nap before the patients start flooding in her nursing home.

5.30 p.m. – She has had her hour-long power nap. While she is sipping her tea, the girls show her their Homework and tell her about their school day. Since she is in a good mood, Ananya starts building the pitch “Mom, it’s been so long we have gone out. Let’s eat out today. We are already done with our homework”

She reminds her daughter “There are patients lined up already. O.K Let me see, if there is not much rush, we can go later.”

This is not new, because of the evening patients, she rarely gets time to have a nice family outing. Girls are also accustomed to going out after 9 pm, once the patients have all been attended to.

Manya suggests “We can go to Avengers Endgame, what say? Come on mom, it will be fun. I will book the 9 p.m. show.”

She calls up the reception desk and checks on the number of patients. Luckily, it’s not too much of a rush today. She tells Manya to book the movie tickets. But till then, girls need to be done with their studies.

6.30 pm

After imparting dinner instructions to her maid, she heads to check the patients. Along with 4 new patients, she checks the patient who wanted to leave early. If all is good with her, she can be discharged tomorrow morning. She finds everything good and tells the nurse to prepare the patient’s discharge papers and inform the patient’s family to complete the discharge formalities by tomorrow morning.

9.00 pm - Family Time ????

The girls come downstairs to the parking for the movie and they head straight away to the theatre. As always, they are late but the girls are happy that they could go out. After reaching the theatre, girls happily grab their favorite snacks and are 30 minutes late but they have started with the movie at least.

10.00 pm

Her phone rings in the middle of the movie and she gets to know that the family of the patient to be discharged tomorrow is creating a scene. On asking about the exact issue, her staff informs that the family wants to take the patient home right now and they say the charges are too much which they will not pay. She instructs the staff to ask them to wait, she will be in the hospital in 10 minutes.

She has to leave her daughters in the theatre. While her husband drives her back, she wonders what is wrong and remembers when the couple first came to her last year. They had lost 2 babies due to miscarriage and had no hopes of conceiving again. It was then, she gave them hope and started the treatment. She even prayed for them (as such she always prays before performing all her operations), she strongly believes God to be the ultimate power and with God’s blessings, nothing can go wrong. With careful medicines, continuous examinations the couple got the blessing of conceiving again in 2 months. She was very careful and did everything to avoid a miscarriage this time. All the efforts and prayers succeeded and the lady delivered a healthy baby 2 days back. The patient’s husband and family were so happy that they called her God and tried to even touch her feet, to which she politely replied that we are just the pawns of God, and I am glad to be doing what I do. At that time, they could not stop praising her hard work, humbleness, and elegance. She remembers clearly explaining the costs to the patient's husband and he himself selected the room and services. This is the usual norm. Yet, today they find the costs too high. Why is it that people find it difficult to pay doctors who actually heal them but are ok spending on entertainment?

With all these thoughts going around, she reaches her nursing home. The patient’s family is waiting and a lady calling herself the patient's Aunt comes to her “Madam, these people are asking for too much money. This is a nursing home; it should not be so costly here. This much we pay in big cities.”

She replies “These are the normal charges all our patients pay; we have not charged anything new or extra to you. I work at ABC hospital too and the charges there are just double. Also, the patient's husband was very well aware of the costs and he himself selected the package. Can you please call him?”

The husband who was probably standing nearby hops in and says “No, I never knew”.

He is lying to her face; she is in shock and decides it’s better to have a written agreement before delivery. Trust is out of the question with people these days.

After a long series of arguments, she is drained off. She says “Please take the patient home and do not pay anything. Do not come to me for anything going forward”

The family stays for the night. She drives back to the theatre to pick up her daughters, the movie would have ended by now.

12.00 pm - Day Ends (at least for a few hours)

She finally gets to be back in bed for a few hours. until the alarm rings yet again.

These were the 24 hrs of a Doctor’s life. Not even 6 hours of continuous sleep. No compromises on other roles of a teacher, a mother, a wife.

Post Credits:

The family who had a problem with charges sends the husband’s younger brother to talk. She calmly talks to him as well. He thanks her for all she did but stresses that the couple is facing a financial crisis and is really hoping for a concession. She believes yet again and agrees to a small concession. The brother is happy now. He says further “We have just 1 last favor to request”. She is really losing it, if he still cries about the payment. But, to her surprise, he explains “We have this insurance claim of 1.5 lakhs, we would be really obliged if you could approve it.”

They wanted her to sign an insurance claim of triple the amount of her hospital fee and just acted as if they were paying out of their savings. She still kept her calm and explained that this is wrong, she cannot sign for more than the payment she is receiving and that the amount is very high. But the brother still tries to convince her. Now she very firmly tells him “Sir, there are MCI rules in place, doctors can take fees as per the hospital size and services only. If we ask for more, we can even lose our license. Signing a falsified insurance claim is not only unethical but illegal too. Further, I would like my complete payment without concession. Since your insurance is paying the amount. You should not have a problem being able to afford it. Please deposit the fee today and get the patient discharged.”

She moves out of her clinic.

Isn’t It Time We Reconsider Our Priorities ???

Media and society have created an image of doctors as money craving devils.

Well, the truth is we can pay 500 Rs for a movie but paying the same or even lesser amount to the doctor for our own health is a problem.

We are a society that treats actors(es) like gods(ess) but the real gods amongst us who actually heal us are considered demons. Why? Because, they ask to be paid for their services.

So, what? if they have spent 10 years amidst books and corpses and stinking blood, stinking medicines.

So, what? if they are 24 hours on duty, (leave getting their beauty sleep, even a 6-hour sleep is a luxury).

So, what? if they have no family life.

Our situation - We see a Celebrity and we are like “ Shut up and take our money”.

Life’s highest honor? This photo of me with Madhuri Dixit.

That day Salman Bhai actually waved at me, I bet he was looking at me.

But bro, you stand in front of his building daily. Haan to I am his biggest fan, it’s not easy to see God, you need to work hard.

My daughter resembles Katrina, just too pretty.

We would happily give our money to a Star whose job requires dressing up, glamming up, partying, and a bit of acting. They entertain us and apparently entertainment is our priority over life.

Who probably doesn’t even know why the sky is blue, who is our president, or even have a basic life reasoning? And why should they know all this, they earn in millions and live a lavish life even with their ignorance.

It is ok even if our favorite actor drives over sleeping people on the road. He has all rights. He is God. But not the doctor who just saved my life – because they are asking to be paid for their service.

We will idolize Priyanka Chopra because she is a self-made woman. Well, so is Indira Nooyi, (maybe a better example), but considering their popularity, we have again failed to notice the genius over a pretty face.

Mr. Amir Khan did mention in Satyamev Jayate “Ventilators are used by doctors just to make money”. I wonder, why the country needs so many ventilators – The money mending machine amidst the Corona Crisis.

It is high time, we as a society review our priorities and instead of idolizing skin, better idolize the brain. Because Brain is capable of creating something immortal while Skin will just cloth you up and will wrinkle off eventually.

And, if you still can’t dodge off your decision to curse doctors, you can prioritize investing your money in your security, which is the Indian Army. But yeah, for our very own sake, it’s high time to correct our inverted pyramid and reset our priorities.

#anyotherday #regularday #doctorsday #insideview #respectlife #yolo #spendwisely #lifematters #doctorsareheroes #adayinadoctorslife

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incorrigible-rapscallion · 6 years ago

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A Serial Killer’s Guide to Men and Manslaughter--SCRIPT (pgs.

[pgs 1-2; 3-7; 7-14; 14-23; 24-30; 30-44]

EXT. PLEASANT VALLEY PD - NIGHT

It is pouring rain outside. David and Achilles stand under an awning from the police station looking at the flooding parking lot.

DAVID (to Achilles) If it's just a little rain, we'll be fine.

Thunder sounds in the distance.

DAVID (CONT'D) This is fine, we'll be fine.

Achilles whines.

INT./EXT. DAVID'S CAR/PLEASANT VALLEY - NIGHT (TRAVELING)

David is the only driver on the valley pass. His driving is scored by the sound of heavy rain and thunder.

The windshield wipers are at the highest setting and the defroster on the car barely works, so David has to wipe at the foggy windshield.

DAVID (like a jingle or mantra) This is fine, we'll be fine, this is fine, we'll be fine...

David passes a forest service road sign but continues on.

Suddenly, David encounters a landslide that has spilled onto the highway. David immediately slams on the breaks and throws an arm out to keep Achilles in his seat.

David puts on a coat from the backseat and gets out of the car to inspect the road.

The debris is thick and still flowing. David checks his phone but there is no cell service.

Resigned, David gets back in the car and backtracks to the forest service road.

INT./EXT. DAVID'S CAR/FOREST (TRAVELING)

David switches over to 4-wheel drive and continues through the forest. He turns on the radio for weather coverage, but the signal goes in and out.

DAVID This is fine, we're going to be fine.

Then the car gets stuck in the mud. David reverses, but the tires simply spin out.

David gets out again to inspect the situation with a flashlight, but doesn't like what he sees.

David returns to the car and shuts it off. He pulls out a map of the area and finds the route he has taken so far.

DAVID It looks like we're only half a mile from Pleasant Grove. We should just try to hoof it into town.

David gets back out with Achilles, the flashlight, the map, and his phone. He pins their location and switches over to a compass app.

After a few paces, David notices a residential fence.

DAVID See? We've already hit civilization.

Navigating the perimeter, David and Achilles make their way to onto a gravel driveway.

EXT. HOUSE IN THE FOREST - NIGHT

The house is upscale and has a 20s-style craftsman design and has a light on in the front porch entryway.

David folds up the map and puts the flashlight away as he approaches the door. Both he and Achilles shake the rain water off like twins. Their safety is short-lived.

Just before he can ring the doorbell, David is knocked out.

MONTAGE: DREAMSCAPE #3

INT. BUTCHERY COLD ROOM

David hears something squick and sloosh.

He wakes on a metal preparation table. He notices meat hanging all around him, uncarved and pretreated.

There is movement above David's line of sight. It is Thomas, and he is carving into David's chest.

David is paralyzed as Thomas lifts out David's still-beating heart. Thomas observes it like it is a work of art and presses a kiss to it.

When he comes away, his lips are bloody and he smiles lovingly in David's direction. Like all the dreams before, Thomas seals this one with a flirtatious wink.

END OF MONTAGE:

INT. THOMAS' HOUSE - LIBRARY - LATER

David wakes looking at a ceiling fan. The light is dim and flickers. David spots Achilles curled up, dry, and sleeping in front of a fireplace.

There is an elaborate bookshelf containing a wide selection of books, but David immediately recognizes a set of his own works on the shelf.

David lays stretched out on a bath towel atop a dark upholstered couch.

His coat and shoes are gone. His map, flashlight, and cell phone sit on a coffee table in front of him. The coffee table also has a glass of water and a plate with painkillers.

David sits up and disregards both of these offerings, but pockets his cell phone. His ears ring and he wobbles from the pain and disorientation.

David goes to the bookshelf to inspect a collection of photographs on the wall. The photos document:

-Thomas as a child at boarding school -Thomas receiving degrees in culinary arts and business communication -Thomas in front of his shop shaking hands with a city official

David surveys the rest of the room. He creeps towards the only door and opens it to listen for activity.

The lights are on in the hallway, but there is no one to be found.

Looking back at Achilles, David hesitates, but exits the room.

INT. THOMAS' HOUSE - HALLWAY (TRACKING)

David enters a hallway that leads to a foyer. David notices his coat and shoes in a mudroom at the front door.

David has a straight shot to escape, but he pauses again to listen for activity.

There are sounds coming from a kitchen on the opposite side of the house.

David measures each step as he makes his way to the front door. He keeps a hand softly tracing the wall for balance.

After a few paces, he feels an odd dip in the wall. Focusing on the discrepancy, David looks back and forth between his freedom at the front door and his curiosity over the wall.

The curiosity wins out and he pushes into the wall, which opens into a secret room.

INT. KILL ROOM

David enters the gym-like space. The lights are motion activated, so David shuts the hallway door behind him.

David surveys the room and walks closer to the racks of mixed weapons on the farthest wall. Intrigued, he reaches out to pick one up, but stops himself.

Then he spots the series of hatch marks written in permanent marker on the mirror. He quickly tallies them.

DAVID ...Forty-five, fifty, fifty-three... Shit.

David takes out his phone and snaps pictures of the weapons and a close-up of the hatch marks.

David quickly exits the way he came.

INT. THOMAS' HOUSE - LIBRARY - LATER

David enters and hastily advances towards Achilles, who is still asleep in front of the fire.

David prods Achilles awake but pauses, weighing his options.

DAVID (to Achilles) Let's do the fandango, bud. For real.

David leaves Achilles at the fire and stands determinedly at the bookshelf, facing away from the door.

David hears footsteps approach, but doesn't react.

THOMAS (O.S.) See something you like?

DAVID What would you do if I said yes?

David turns around to find Thomas dressed casually in a sweater and lounge pants holding a tray with tea and food.

THOMAS I would be terribly pleased with myself. Which would lead to an unwarranted boost to my ego.

Thomas steps closer to David but changes direction to set the tray down on the coffee table.

Thomas observes the unused water and painkillers then takes a seat in an armchair next to the fire. His face is lit halfway in the dark and light.

THOMAS (CONT'D) There is a time and place for self-love -- for what the French call amour propre -- but I find that it often gets in the way of what I truly want. DAVID It sounds as though you've been talking with Aunt Harriet too much.

THOMAS That may be, but it's only because she is a woman of singular tastes and I can thoroughly appreciate that in a conversation partner. What is it that you look for, David? In a conversation partner, I mean.

DAVID I look for what everyone looks for: a pair of ears and a pair of eyes. It's as simple as that. (gesturing to Achilles) Lucky for me, I take my conversation partner everywhere I go.

THOMAS That must make for many one-sided conversations, if that is the case. Perhaps I am not the only one suffering from a prolonged bout of amour propre. DAVID If you are to believe Aunt Harriet, then yes.

THOMAS And if I want to believe you?

DAVID ...also yes.

THOMAS Good. That puts us on equal footing. Which is something else that I seek in a partner. For conversations.

DAVID Likewise. Speaking of equal footing, are we going to address the elephant in the room?

THOMAS Which one?

DAVID How about the one where I blacked out and woke up in your living room.

THOMAS Library. The living room is upstairs.

DAVID I probably would've known that had I entered your home with my full faculties like a normal house guest.

Achilles lifts up drowsily at David's raised tone, but turns over on his back to sleep in a different position.

THOMAS How's your head? You really should take the ibuprofen.

DAVID My head is fine.

Thomas leans forward and uncovers the plates of food.

THOMAS I also prepared some oatmeal. I didn't know how you prefer to take it, so it has all the fixings.

DAVID I take it how I like my conversation partners: plain and straightforward.

THOMAS Interesting. I prefer the finer arts of wit and wordplay. I assumed you would feel the same...?

DAVID I do, when the situation arises.

THOMAS And has it? Arisen?

DAVID That has yet to be determined.

THOMAS Fair enough. You really should eat something though. I promise, nothing in this spread will render you unconscious. Again.

David slowly paces back to the couch, careful to not show his instability from the head injury.

DAVID So is there a straightforward reason for why I had to be rendered unconscious at all?

THOMAS I admit that I am a bit of a security enthusiast. I was alerted immediately when you stepped on my property, but I thought you were someone else.

DAVID Someone else with a dog that deserved to get knocked out at your front door?

THOMAS Sadly, the whole situation will only become more absurd if I try to explain every detail to you at the present time. Suffice it to say, I've always been honest with you. Just not as straightforward as I could be.

DAVID You do realize that raises more questions than answers.

THOMAS Of course. But I find that a healthy dose of mystery keeps a conversation stimulating.

DAVID If you can't tell me why you knocked me out, can you at least tell me how I got here?

THOMAS How do you think?

DAVID I don't know, I'm imagining myself as swooning and being carried like a damsel in distress.

THOMAS That would be an accurate description. You don't weigh all that much. Which is probably due to the fact that you refuse to eat.

In response, David reaches for a spoonful of oatmeal, but instead picks up a cup of tea. He doesn't drink it.

Thomas acknowledges this by picking up a cup of tea as well.

Together, they both sip simultaneously with locked eyes.

DAVID Loose leaf?

THOMAS Of course. If you hadn't already guessed, I'm a bit of a purist when it comes to my palate. And appetites.

DAVID Do you know why I'm here?

THOMAS I would hope that it is to find a stimulating conversation partner. But I know that that is not the case.

DAVID I just came from Pleasant Valley. I was at the police department all day. Researching their cold cases and missing persons reports.

THOMAS I assume you took that man from the town hall the other night at his word.

DAVID I did.

THOMAS And? What did you uncover?

DAVID A common denominator.

THOMAS Is that the amateur detective or the novelist speaking?

DAVID Does it matter? I still found an answer.

THOMAS And was the answer what you needed to hear or what you wanted to hear?

DAVID Does it matter?

THOMAS To me? Yes. Greatly.

DAVID The answer led me back to you, if that's what you're asking.

THOMAS Why would you tell me this if you found out such an answer?

DAVID I'm being plain and straightforward. I'm also curious to see what you do next with this information.

A car honks outside.

THOMAS Ah, that would be the cab I called when I heard you stumbling around in the hallway earlier. I think it would be best if you got home safe and sound, especially since you don't have a car for the time being.

INT. THOMAS' HOUSE - ENTRYWAY

David steps into his shoes next to Achilles at the front door. David straightens as Thomas enters the mud room.

He gets close in David's personal space and David stops breathing. But it is simply for Thomas to grab David's coat hanging up behind them.

Thomas holds it out for David to put on easily. David does, maintaining eye contact as long as possible.

EXT/INT. HOUSE IN THE FOREST/CAB - DAY

It is no longer raining, but the ground is wet.

Thomas holds the door open for David and Achilles as they enter the backseat of a classic yellow cab.

Thomas shuts the door and knocks on the passenger-side window. The CABBIE, middle-aged and friendly looking, rolls it down to talk.

CABBIE Heya, Mr. Wright. Whereabouts are these two fellas headin'?

THOMAS Harriet Truelove's place. At the end of the main drag.

Thomas passes a wad of cash through the window.

CABBIE Easy-peasy. Pleasure doing business with you.

Thomas locks eyes once again with David.

THOMAS Likewise. And you should expect a token of my appreciation by the end of the day.

The Cabbie drives away and David watches Thomas as they do.

#a serial killer's guide to men and manslaughter #netflix call me #hannigram #hannibal s4 #nbc hannibal #hannibal #script #screenplay #screenwriting #original work

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staple-soap-blog · 7 years ago

Text

Fade - II

The sequel to Scars

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 ||

Genre: Angst | Soulmate AU!

Word Count: 7400

“Cause I don't wanna lose you now, I'm lookin’ right at the other half of me” [🎵 ]

“Sehun.”

It felt like hot stones were being pressed into your eyes as you watched him smile, the familiarity and comfort that came with the gesture branding your retinas, causing them to water. Sehun’s his eyes creased into half moons, perfectly mimicking the images in the memories you had stored. He looked so perfect you swore you had to be dreaming.

Sehun’s lips parted, and you watched as he mouthed the most simple of greetings, “Hey.”

Despite the buzzing electricity that was rocketing through your figure, somehow your brain finally caught up to your racing heart, and your brain was telling you to run. A chill slowly settled over you, freezing your emotions within your body as well as physically freezing you, until your muscles ceased to move. Your mouth dropped open as you tried to console your heart, which was yelling at you to go towards him, and your mind, which was telling you to get away. The mixed signals rendered you motionless, and you were trapped, stuck in front of the man who was responsible for destroying your heart, but now, it felt like his presence had somehow brought it back.

You felt Sehun’s thumb brush against your cheek, your skin crawling at the action. He stared into your eyes, which were still blown wide with complete shock. “I’m so glad I found you,” he croaked, voice wavering with emotion, the same emotion you were currently experiencing underneath the frozen body your brain and heart had paralysed. A thousand words were coursing through your lungs and lodging in your throat, forming a painful lump which blocked your windpipe.

You couldn’t breathe.

The lack of oxygen dizzied you as the clump of words that sat in your throat slowly began to form into incoherent lines, the pressure forcing them to slip out.

“You…” you stammered. “How did you…why did you…” Your hand slowly lifted, fingers brushing against your lips which were still warm from the contact of his mouth. They tingled, almost as if a spark of static had zapped you.

Sehun’s body drifted closer, so close that your noses were mere millimetres away. His warmth seemed to surround you, willing you to relax even though your brain was screaming and struggling to get away for the incredible heat. “It’s okay,” whispered Sehun, forehead pressing against yours and his hands finding your wrists, holding them lovingly. “I’m here now.”

You were unsure if mere seconds or hours had passed as the both of you stood there, unmoving. The shock kept you from saying anything more as Sehun’s electric heat continued to infiltrate and consume every single nerve and fibre both inside and out. It felt like magic. It felt like fate.

Sehun’s eyes never broke away from yours, his glance anchoring you to his soul. The magic flowed through the both of you, uniting you, trying to repair the bond that had been broken.

However, slowly but surely, the magic began to dissolve into the air, allowing the adrenaline to drain from your bloodstream.

Then you felt it. The pain. That terrible pain from long ago.

The scars in your heart. They had opened up.

The stabbing sensation that had been overshadowed by Sehun’s warmth began to jab at your chest, followed by countless agonising throbs as your broken heart began to beat irregularly, the feeling as if your life force was gushing from the open wounds. It wasn’t used to this magnitude of emotion anymore, it had been dormant, almost lifeless for years, and now it had to process the energy that Sehun had injected you with. It was bound to give out eventually, and you could feel the damage worsening with every heartbeat. The scars felt like they were tearing themselves wider.

The pain tore through you, and your muscles were thawing from their previously frozen state. “No,” you barely whispered, forcefully taking one step back and away from the source of the unbearable ache. “No, you can’t…”

Sehun’s eyebrows narrowed. “What’s wrong?” he asked, concern spreading over his face as he closed the gap you had made.

“You can’t just…” Your voice cracked and you took another two steps away, holding out a shaky hand to keep him at a distance.

Your eyes flicked over his body. You needed more convincing that this was in fact Sehun even when your heart had confirmed it the second his lips touched yours. He was exactly the same, save for the brown hair which was now back to its natural black colour that you remember from high school. He stepped forward again, and you felt his torso come into contact with your fingers.

He was definitely real. This wasn’t a dream. Sehun was here, standing right in front of you.

Your hand flew to your chest, pressing down to try and subdue the piercing ache as your lungs gave in, forcing out a strangled scream. You backed away in fright before hitting the wall behind you. You collapsed onto the ground, tears now uncontrollably pouring from your waterline.

“Y/N!” yelled Sehun in panic, and he rushed towards your slumped figure.

“No!” you cried, slapping away the arms that tried to wrap around you. “You can’t!”

“It’s alright,” he breathed, trying again to take you into his hold.

You screamed, cried out, tried to push him away, but Sehun wouldn’t give up until he had taken you into his embrace. You struggled, clawing at his arms, trying to escape but he only held you tighter, pulling you against his damp chest and whispering conforming phrases into your ears.

Your nails raked down his biceps, leaving behind angry red lines as your knees tucked in towards your chest, intending to press your feet against Sehun’s body and kick him away. But it was no use. He was stronger than you, and your heart forbade you to break any contact with him in fear of it ripping in half from the sheer magnitude of energy produced by the ardent war between it and your raging mind.

“No,” you mumbled once more. It was the last coherent thing you said before the sobs overtook your body, causing you to jolt with every sharp inhale that would fuel your next cry of pain.

You felt so completely helpless. Like you had no control over anything in your life anymore. You screamed internally. Why? Why did you have to suffer so much? Was five years of living an emotionless and empty life not enough? Did Fate really have to bring back your true love and tormentor just so old wounds could be reopened?

Sehun’s touch was searing and hot, trapping you in a cocoon of heat which you so desperately wanted to climb out of, no matter how much your heart yearned to stay. You couldn’t let him do this to you again. You wouldn’t let him. He’d hurt you so much, and you weren’t prepared to go through it again. It would kill you.

You continued to struggle, wriggling within his grasp, trying to get away, but you were just exhausting yourself.

“Shhhh,” said Sehun, pulling you into his lap, his chin resting against your shoulder. “Relax, it's alright.” His arms were crossed over your waist with your own arms trapped beneath his. His hands soothingly rubbed your forearms until your sobs became less and less frequent.

Eventually, you gave up trying to run, instead allowing your body to deflate and mold into Sehun’s chest. Occasionally, you’d gasp as your sobbing tried to settle back into steady breaths, your tears drying in the thick air. Your head began to lean against Sehun’s as your body completely shut down, your energy thoroughly spent. All that was left behind was an odd ache in your chest. It wasn’t like the ache that had been plaguing you for years, but more of a dull throbbing sensation, almost as if something was trying to fill the void of your open wounds.

You stared blankly at your front door, which was still open, the howl of the wind echoing through the hallway outside as it blew up the staircase and through the building. The patter of rain also reached your ears, the low rumbling of thunder occasionally filling the air. But the strongest sound was your heartbeat. You could hear the blood pulsing through your body, and you could feel Sehun’s own heart hammering against your back, perfectly synced up with yours.

You blinked lazily, and your body began to slump to the side. Sehun carefully guided you off his lap and onto the hardwood floor below, but he made sure to return his arms to surround your waist. You rested your head against the plaster wall for support. You could feel Sehun’s eyes burning into your temple, so you rolled your head to look back into his chocolate coloured eyes which were bright and lively.

His smile was still there, his eyes narrow with genuine happiness. His head tilted at an angle to match yours and came to lean against the same wall. You felt his hands near yours, one finding your wrist and holding it, thumb stroking the skin while the other came up to your cheek to brush the stray hairs away. His palm then covered that same cheek, and your eyes closed at the gentle heat he delivered.

“Why,” you breathed weakly, eyes fluttering open again.

“Why what?”

“Why are you here?”

A small pout formed on his lips as he teased you, “Is that any way to greet your soulmate?” You winced at the sting his words caused. He noticed and immediately regretted it. “Sorry.”

You sighed, breaking eye contact and shaking your head slightly to push away his palm that rested on your cheek. “You never wanted that anyway,” you said, voice wavering as you crossed your arms, trying to separate him from you. “Why are you bringing it up now?”

You heard Sehun shuffle closer to you before resting his chin on top of your head. His arms circled your body. You could feel his throat vibrate as he responded. “That’s not entirely true.” You nudged his chin off your head so you could look him in the eye again, wordlessly begging him for an explanation. “I’ll tell you in a bit, but for now can I just...can we just stay like this?”

His eyes pleaded with him, so you had no choice but to nod. He smiled with pursed lips before returning his chin to its previous position, and you were forced to watch his adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed with both nervousness and relief.

He held you for a long while, his touch surprisingly warm despite the water which was soaked into his clothes. It seemed to subdue the piercing ache inside you to some extent, never completely hiding it but suppressing it enough for you to focus instead on the happiness that was filling your shredded heart. Like each second with him stitched a healing suture into the cuts that had opened, cuts that had scarred over from the events of five years ago.

After some time, Sehun shifted around as his breathing stuttered. “I don’t know how else to say this,” he finally began. “It sounds stupid just thinking about it. But then again, I’ve been acting stupid my whole life.” He gulped and took a few breaths in before continuing, as if he were struggling to string together sentences that could fully convey how he felt.

“I always used to say soulmates were stupid when we were kids, remember?”

Your chest deflated at this. “Yeah,” you muttered, disheartened. “I remember.”

Sehun tightened his hold around you, his hand gently rubbing your back in comfort. “That was back when I didn’t fully understand what it meant, and I just kind of kept saying it without thinking too much about it. But I got older, and in a way, I did start to care. So much that I hated it.”

“Why?”

Sehun paused, reluctant to continue until he had found the right words. “I never thought you’d be my soulmate,” he admitted. Your body buckled, his words cutting into your stomach, and you curled forward to subdue the pain. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” comforted Sehun.

His hand came up from behind you to your head and pressed it against his chest. His other hand which was on the curve of your back gripped the fabric of your shirt, clinging onto you any way he could. A few moments of silence passed, only filled with the sound of Sehun’s heartbeat. He sighed before continuing.

“I never thought you’d be my soulmate, but I always wished that you were.”

It took a couple seconds for you to register his words. A tingle of curiosity appeared in the back of your mind, and you uncurled yourself from your position. Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to make sense of what he had just said.

“You’d never shown me your soul mark, so I always thought it was in an awkward place. But I also thought that if you didn’t bother showing me, I wasn’t your soulmate. And that killed me.”

You didn’t even know the full story, and yet your pulse was already accelerating, his own heartbeat speeding up to match with yours. Your fingers began to clutch the fabric of his waterlogged shirt, dripping rainwater onto your sweatpants. But you didn’t care.

“You’d been my best friend for so long, and I didn’t want to ruin that by saying that I liked you, because I thought that you’d want to save yourself for your soulmate. And that’s why I hated this stupid soul mark thing. I was mad that no one would give somebody else a chance just because their true love had already been decided.”

Sehun’s grip grew firmer, and he pressed his body impossibly closer to yours.

“I never wanted a soulmate, I just wanted you.”

It felt like your ears were set ablaze when Sehun spoke those works to you. Your grip on his shirt tightened, knuckles turning white as yet another surge of emotions spread into your bloodstream. You couldn’t believe that you were hearing. Sehun liked you? For how long? You were too scared to lift your head and make eye contact, fearing that if you saw the candour in his chocolate irises, you would crumble.

“I remember when you arrived at prom with Chanyeol. You looked so beautiful, and I’ve always regretted not asking you. I thought you’d find it weird, since we were best friends. But I wanted nothing more than to take Chanyeol’s place that night. He was always by your side, holding your hand. I hated that it wasn’t me doing that.”

“But I wasn’t dating Chanyeol.”

“I know, but you two grew closer after that night. And that could’ve been me. I thought I’d blown my chance, so I just let it be.”

You chewed your bottom lip, processing Sehun’s words. Your eyes welled up, but they weren’t sad tears, they were tears of joy and longing. But there was still an itch that held you back from fully accepting his proclamations. “What about Yuna? Did you not love her?”

Sehun sighed and ran his hand through his black locks. “I did. I loved her a lot. But it took time for me to fall for her. It wasn’t anything like it was with you, I always felt some way about you, even when I was with her.” Sehun paused again, collecting his thoughts. “I hated the whole soulmate concept, and she did too. And I guess I found comfort in that. I’d never get what I want, I’d never get you, and I hated Fate for that, so I never wanted to find my soulmate, and Yuna didn’t either. We supported each other with that.”

You could hear cracks beginning to appear in his voice as he recalled the events of the past. At least you’d been right, the whole ordeal had hurt him just as much as it hurt you.

“You were right, the soul mark removal was my idea. When you hate something for as long as I have, it never leaves you. I thought of it as one last big ‘fuck you’ to Fate.”

Sehun sat up, removing his chin from the top of your head. His hand came under your jaw to tilt your head upwards. Your eyes locked with his teary ones as he stared at you with an unfathomable amount of affection and regret. He let out a shaky breath as he moved down to your right shoulder and tugged aside the fabric of your shirt. His thumb softly brushed over the light pink lines of your scar, causing his face to scrunch in grief.

“It was the biggest mistake of my life, and I’ll never forgive myself for what I did to you, for what I did to us.”

A tear rolled down Sehun’s cheek. Your hand came up to instinctively brush it away, and you felt how hot and flushed his skin was. You could sense that the energy you were experiencing was shared with him, and you leaned forward, capturing him in a hug, pressing your bodies together as if somehow it could make up for the lost time you spent apart. He squeezed you back, showing no sign of letting go.

“I missed you so much,” he whispered into your hair.

You whimpered back, “Me too.”

And that’s how the two of you stayed. On the floor of your apartment, bodies linked in a tight embrace as the storm outside passed, and the clouds cleared away, allowing the bright twinkle of the stars to shine through your window.

Nothing needed to be said as Sehun’s mere presence seemed to affect your body in the most mysterious and wonderful of ways. It felt like you were healing, and you knew that he felt the same too. The magic shared between the two of you was indisputably strong and powerful.

“I’m tired,” you yawned eventually, head dropping against the wall for support. Sehun smiled and stood up and began to walk towards your front door. You winced a little, thinking that he would leave, but he shut the door instead and walked back up to you.

A squeal escaped your lungs as you felt yourself being lifted into the air by the work of Sehun’s muscular arms. You clutched onto his broad shoulders for dear life as he led you further into your apartment. “Which one is your bedroom?”

“Second door to the left,” you replied, and he made a beeline towards said place.

He gently set you down on your bed and pulled the covers over you, a smile adorning your face throughout the whole process. His hands brushed over your shirt. “Your clothes are a bit wet, sorry about that.”

You’d completely forgotten about that. “Yours are still wet too,” you said, sitting up and feeling the damp fabric of his shirt. It had dried off a little in the time that he’d been inside your apartment, but it felt uncomfortable to be wearing, and you bet that his jeans were just as soaked. “How did you get here?” you asked, curious.

“I drove.”

“You drove all the way from home and got completely soaked just from the sidewalk to here? The rain was that bad? You could’ve had an accident!” you scolded, frowning and tugging angrily at his shirt.

Sehun smiled and pulled your hand away from the garment, lacing his fingers with yours instead. “I couldn’t wait. I had to get to you as soon as possible.”

“How did you find me anyway?”

He smirked. “How do you think?”

You cast your mind into recent events and the answer came easily. “Chanyeol.”

“I guess lover boy wanted to help fix us.”

You shook your head and smiled. “He’s always been like that. He’ll never change.”

Silence settled over your two bodies, filled with only the sound of your heartbeat. Sehun stroked the back of your hand, his bottom lip caged between his teeth in thought. “I should leave. I kinda just barged in here uninvited.”

He dropped your hand and took a few steps away. He was through the doorway of your bedroom before he stopped, turning around to look at you, incredibly reluctant to leave. “Sehun,” you called out. “Stay with me. Please.”

He smiled a little. “But my clothes are all wet,” he teased, but you could tell from his eyes that he wanted nothing more than to be with you.

“I don’t care.”

Sehun stepped back into your bedroom and closed the door before removing his shoes and climbing under the sheets with you. He said nothing as his arm wrapped around you and pulled you against his side. A few moments ticked by before a question slipped past your lips.

“Sehun?”

“Hm?”

“Why did you want to find me? It’s been so long.”

There was a delay before his reply came. “Remember how Yuna was late to the wedding?” You nodded. “She found her soulmate that day. Some guy called Jongdae. Her maid of honour told me they got into a fight which kind of ruined her mood I guess. But after you left, I didn’t want her anymore. And I guess she made up with Jongdae and left me soon after.”

Your mind buzzed at the intake of information.

“After she left I thought that if Jongdae could forgive her for what she did, maybe you would too. I knew I had to at least try. I couldn’t live with myself if I let another opportunity go to waste.”

You buried your face into Sehun’s chest, remembering how you’d let every opportunity slip away from you. He held you close and whispered words that set your heart ablaze.

“I’ll never make that mistake again.”

And that’s how you remained for the entirety of the night. Enveloped in the arms of your true love. Your heart may not have been completely mended, it probably never would return to its state before the heartbreak, but it was alive and working now that Sehun was here.

It felt right. Everything felt right in that moment. This was always your destiny, how it was always meant to be. Joy was the only thing that consumed your existence, something that you hadn’t experienced in a very long time. And you couldn’t have asked for anything more.

***

Happy. That’s what you felt as you woke up the next morning with the bright sun peeking through the empty rain clouds and shining its rays through your bedroom window. Normally, you would awaken, and the familiar low hum of pain would make itself known by consuming your chest, staying there for the entire day until you drifted out of consciousness that same night, only to return the next day.

Now, it wasn’t gone, but it was overshadowed by a much stronger feeling. It wasn’t a foreign feeling, you had experienced it before a long time ago. You don’t remember when exactly, but you knew why. Because when your eyes fluttered open, there in front of you was the perfect face of your other half, your soulmate, Oh Sehun. He was there in the flesh, peacefully sleeping, an arm draped around your waist with the fabric of your shirt bundled into his fist as if he were afraid of you slipping away. It really wasn’t a dream. He was with you. And that feeling in your chest intensified with every passing minute, making your heart race as a smile began to spread across your lips.

“Good morning,” groaned Sehun before his eyelids slowly opened, his chocolate eyes finding yours.

“Morning,” you replied, your grin growing wider.

“Have you been staring at me?”

You bit your lip. “Maybe?” Sehun chuckled and pulled your body closer, his lips finding your forehead and pressing a chaste kiss to it. Your skin tingled at the contact, sending goosebumps over your body and accelerating your beating heart.

He pulled away with a smile. His fingers danced over your back, drawing shapes into your skin as he looked at you lovingly. You gazed back at him with equal amounts of love and tenderness.

“Do you mind if I use your shower?” he asked.

“Wasn’t the rain enough?” Sehun scoffed and squeezed your side, his fingers sending a spasm of tickles through your waist. A giggle slipped past your lips before you spoke again. “Did you need a change of clothes?”

He shook his head. “My clothes are pretty much dry now.” He moved to roll off your bed, but you whined in protest. “What?”

“Can we stay here for a bit longer?”

“I’ll be gone for like five minutes,” he argued.

“Fine,” you groaned with a pout. “The bathroom is the next door to the right and there are clean towels under the sink.”

A smile spread over Sehun’s lips in thanks, and he leaned down to press another kiss to your cheek, causing another set of giggles to slip past your mouth. The mattress springed back upwards as Sehun’s weight left the bed and he made his may out of your room, tugging off his shirt and flashing you his muscular back just before he disappeared through the doorway. What a tease.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, basking in the heat that was flaring up inside your chest, overshadowing the constant ache that had resided there since your last encounter with Sehun. You couldn’t believe that he had returned to you, even after all this time. Sure, you acknowledged how idiotic it might seem. The man who had caused you so much pain, the man who had shattered your heart and left it on the curb to die, he had returned to fix it with his touch. It would never be the same, but it was better than the five years of misery you had to suffer through.

Five years, and you had never felt anything like this. Nothing like when Sehun was with you. Well, maybe just not as intense. There was an itch in the back of your mind, reminding you of something. Memories from not too long ago. Memories of just a sliver of that same warmth and energy drifting through your body, slowly taking away the pain.

The sound of your doorbell ringing through your apartment snapped you out of your thoughts. Groaning, you slid off your mattress and headed towards your front door, your previous thoughts melting away into the depths of your mind, but never fully dissipating. Instead, they lurked in the shadows of your brain, festering with each step you took through your apartment.

A rush of dread suddenly washed over your body as your steps towards the door slowed in pace. The thoughts in the back of your mind were agitating every last nerve ending, and you couldn’t stop the anxious feeling that began to consume you. Your fingertips touched the handle of your front door and you looked through the peephole.

Your heart dropped into your stomach at the sight. There, stood outside your apartment was a messy haired, slightly sleepy Kyungsoo dressed in a puffy packet, clutching your purse in his hands.

It felt like you had been pushed into a frozen lake and you were trapped beneath the ice, forced to drown in the sudden flood of guilt and anxiety that suddenly rushed through your veins, causing your muscles to tense.

Your hand left the handle, considering not opening the door, but for some reason, you knew you would feel guilty about leaving him hanging, and he had driven to your apartment early this morning and you would hate for him to do that again. There was also the added nagging in your mind telling you that you missed him, that you wanted to see him, spend time with him. An odd conflict between your head and your heart ignited, building up in your throat and you swallowed the vicious lump as you heard the second chime of your doorbell echo through your eardrums.

Your head whipped around to glance behind you, confirming that Sehun was still in the shower. With a quick breath in, you opened the door, convincing yourself that this would be a quick exchange.

“Hey!” you breathed a little too enthusiastically.

“Hi,” responded Kyungsoo, a little taken aback by your sudden enthusiasm. “I...brought your purse.”

“Oh, right, thank you,” you muttered, lunging forward for the item. Your fingers were wrapped around your purse, intending to pull it away and run back into your apartment, but Kyungsoo’s larger hand pressed over yours. Your arm seized up and your shoulders rose in surprise at his touch, bones locked into place.

“Is everything ok?” he asked, a questioning yet concerned look on his face. His thumb began to rub against the back of your hand, and he looked deep into your eyes, searching for an answer.

“Yeah, why?”

“You look a little tense.” Were you being that obvious? You struggled to find a reply as you felt your heart rate increase, guilt beginning to seep into your chest. “Hey,” called Kyungsoo, stepping closer. “You can talk to me, okay?”

The smile that spread across his lips only intensified your remorse. Kyungsoo looked at you with such affection, such genuine care, and you had to bow your head to break the gaze in fear that it would break your facade. You felt a different warmth grow inside you, the same warmth that was present during your first night together, when his lips were on yours and his hands were tracing the curves of your body. You’d felt content then.

But now your soulmate had returned, and he made you feel like your heart was on fire. Years of misery felt like they could disappear with his touch. Even though your heart was permanently damaged by Sehun’s actions, it still yearned for his presence and love. Stupid heart.

The guilt that was spilling into your chest through the cracks in your heart began to grow wider. If your heart was a dam with a leak, the guilt was the water, pushing through the concrete and chipping away at the mighty wall until the dam threatened to collapse entirely.

You had to tell Kyungsoo about Sehun. You couldn’t work this out on your own. You head rose to meet his eyes, mouth opening to speak. “Kyungsoo, I need to tell you-”

He wasn’t looking at you. Instead, he was looking behind you, a look of shock, confusion and anger swimming through his eyes which were blown wide open. Your stomach felt like it had imploded, and you reluctantly turned around to inspect what Kyungsoo had seen.

It was worse than you expected.

Sehun was completely shirtless, with only his sweatpants covering his bottom half and a towel draped around his neck. He was staring at your hands which were covered with Kyungsoo’s, his eyebrows furrowed as he tried to deduce the situation. Then, a breeze of cold air brushed over your hands as Kyungsoo broke the calming contact.

Panic shot through your veins as you turned to look back at him, his face now consumed with betrayal. “Kyungsoo, it’s not what it looks-”

“Who are you?” barked Kyungsoo, cutting you off with his eyes still trained on Sehun. His voice was firm, but you could hear his composed demeanour cracking.

“Who are you?” retorted Sehun.

“I asked first.” You could hear the rising anger in Kyungsoo’s tone. His fists clenched, knuckles beginning to turn white.

You looked back at Sehun, dreading his answer. He took a step closer to you, and you felt his hand secure itself around your waist. No no no, this was making things worse! You winced at the contact, but his reply to Kyungsoo’s question made you cringe with guilt.

“I’m her soulmate.”

The wind was knocked out from your lungs at Sehun’s answer, and you snapped your head back to Kyungsoo, trying to gather the words to explain everything. You couldn’t find them in time.

You watched as Kyungsoo’s deep brown eyes - which were full of anger and bewilderment - scanned over Sehun’s body, tracing the pink lines that were situated near his right collarbone. Kyungsoo then looked over at your chest, and you saw his eyes widen as his composure collapsed. It looked like a knife had been shoved into his gut. You hastily pulled the hem of your shirt over your exposed scar, but the damage had already been done.

Kyungsoo’s eyes met yours, and you stared back at him, trying to wordlessly apologise in a single gaze. But something had changed, and that change snapped the remainder of your heartstrings, leaving behind nothing but guilt and regret.

That spark of hope you had once seen in his deep brown eyes, the one you saw at the bar when you first met him and the one you saw during your countless nights together, it had been snuffed out.

You had created the spark, and now, you’d watched it die before your very eyes.

Kyungsoo’s chest visibly deflated and his hands unclenched in surrender. The fight in him had trickled away. His eyes clouded over, and so did his soul.

“Who is this, Y/N?” asked Sehun, tugging you by your waist and coaxing you to face him. Sehun didn’t seem too concerned before, but your expression caused his eyes to flood with concern for you.

“He’s…” you swallowed, slowly turning back to the other, shorter man. “He’s my…”

You couldn’t complete your sentence, for you didn’t know yourself what Kyungsoo was. He wasn’t a stranger, but he wasn’t a friend either. It felt wrong to call him either a fuck buddy or your boyfriend. Your breathing deepened as you tried to fill the silence with non-existent words, your body filling up with shame with every passing second.

“I’m no one,” snapped Kyungsoo, his voice laced with venom and despair. “I was just leaving.” He didn’t glance at you as he turned and headed back down the hallway from which he came. You heard the sound of his shoes hitting the steps of the stairwell before he disappeared and his footsteps became softer as he moved further away.

Something snapped inside you, and you quickly tossed your purse inside your apartment before pushing a half-bare Sehun back inside. “Stay here,” you warned before bolting through the door, slamming it shut after you.

“Kyungsoo!” you cried, dashing down the stairwell as fast as you could, almost tripping over the steps as you did. “Kyungsoo, wait!”

You caught him three flights down, nearly crashing into him as your arms anchored themselves against his side to stop the momentum that was pushing you forward. You panted and looked up at him, but he refused to meet your gaze, his black fringe partially concealing his eyes.

“Please don’t leave yet, just...let me explain-”

“You don’t need to explain anything,” he deadpanned. “It’s pretty clear to me what happened.”

“Nothing happened!” you pushed, your fingers wrapping around his bicep and squeezing, as if it would help convince him. “I swear on my life, he just showed up last night and he was wet from the rain so I let him use my shower.”

Kyungsoo remained silent, his gaze trained on his shoes.

“I didn’t sleep with him. Please, you have to believe me!”

He sighed deeply and his eyes closed. His throat seemed to constrict as he swallowed deeply, and he took a shallow breath inwards, only inhaling what he needed in order to speak for it was too painful to breathe.

“It doesn’t matter if I believe you or not.”

A small gasp slipped past your lips, and your heart surged with emotion. Your train of thought stopped entirely, the string of excuses and explanations dying on your tongue. “Wh-what? Why not?”

“Because...you’re-” He suddenly stopped, his face scrunching up with a hiss blowing past his barred teeth. He doubled over and his hands pressed flew to his face. You moved closer to him, one hand remaining on his arm, the other coming up to wrap around one of his wrists. Concern, guilt and worry coursed through your system as you silently begged for Kyungsoo to look at you. That spark of hope you’d seen still had to be there somewhere. You’d do anything to see it once again.

A muffled groan sounded from his lungs, then his hands quickly ran down his face as his head shot straight upwards, quickly avoiding your gaze. You swallowed thickly at his glistening cheeks after his fingers had wiped away the evidence of tears. His head dropped back down with a shaky sigh, his eyes landing on your shoulder, like he was afraid that looking at you directly would cause him more pain.

“Look. I can’t…” he began, voice wavering with every word he spoke. “I can’t...he’s…” stammered Kyungsoo. He choked before shaking his head. ”Just go back to him,” he sighed, caving in defeat. “If he makes you happy even after everything you said he did then...”

“Don’t say that,” you countered, your oesophagus beginning to close up. “He’s...not the only one who can make me happy.”

The words flew out of your mouth easier that you expected with the pressure in your throat. Those thoughts that had been lurking in the back of your mind finally made themselves known, and you believed them to be the truth.

Kyungsoo made you feel. Maybe he hadn’t jolted your heart from it’s dormant state, but he had been nurturing it back to health, slowly, but surely. That warmth you felt when you were with him, it battled the ache caused by the scars of your past and emerged victorious each time. It soothed and comforted you whenever Kyungsoo entered your thoughts. Even though it wasn’t as powerful, it was undoubtedly healing you.

Dare you say it, that warmth was love.

You wondered what had kept you from realising it for so long, but now, you were terrified at the prospect of losing it, all because of you and the person who was supposed to be your perfect match.

“I believed that too, until now,” replied Kyungsoo to your statement.

“Kyungsoo,” you whimpered, shocked that he would say such a thing. He shuffled on his feet, gaze now trained to the floor. He was twitching and fidgeting, trying to distract himself from the heartbreak that you had caused. He cleared his throat before he spoke again.

“Thanks for making me think, at least for a while, that I didn’t need my soulmate to be in love.”

Your jaw fell open at his words. He finally met your eyes, and your chest near exploded at the lack of life and hope in his expression. His brown eyes were empty, his face void of emotion save for the salty liquid that pooled at his waterline. His lips were pressed into a thin line as he held his breath, suppressing the sobs that threatened to break free.

He pushed past you just as the first tear began to fall, shaking your hand off his upper arm. “Go back,” he grumbled defeatedly, his back turned to you. “Your other half is waiting for you.”

Kyungsoo continued down the stairs after uttering that, never once looking back to face you. He left you in the stairwell, alone and trembling with grief.

The irony of the situation hit you hard. There you stood, a broken woman, damaged by the actions of the man she loved, only to inflict the same damage onto a man that loved her. You were crushed, you knew how much it hurt to have the person you were so completely infatuated with to just brush you aside like you were nothing. You knew how much Kyungsoo had been hurting because of his soul mark that had been mercilessly scorched off only a little while ago, and you had to go ahead and give him false hope, making him suffer even more. You felt like a monster.

Your brain went into overdrive, trying to bargain and justify your actions, only for those arguments to collapse in on themselves. You kept switching back and forth, the devil and angel sat on each shoulder whispering into your ears, creating an ambivalent chaos of thoughts.

Kyungsoo didn’t mean what he said. He was angry and just trying to hurt you.

But the way he looked at you whenever you were with him, you saw yourself in him, the same emotions of love and want were parallel to when you were in love with Sehun.

Fate led Sehun back to you, you can’t change your destiny.

If Fate really did still have a plan for you, why would Fate lead Kyungsoo to you.

Sehun is your soulmate. There’s no way you could be in love with Kyungsoo.

But you were. You most certainly were.

The stairs caught you as you fell back onto the steps, the pain of the impact nowhere near comparable to the pain in your chest. Your head fell into your hands, mind swirling with paradoxical thoughts, leaving you confused and afraid. Your body trembled as the silent cries left your mouth, drenching your face with tears.

A hand suddenly gripped your shoulder, the contact soothing your arrhythmic heart, leaving only your head to spin with uncertainty and regret. That hand turned into two arms, wrapping around your figure and pulling you up against a firm, now clothed body. A sharp chin rested atop your shoulder as the embrace relaxed you, until you could finally speak without your voice wavering.

“What have I done,” you barely whispered.

“Was he…” began Sehun, hesitant to ask. “Your boyfriend?”

You sighed, not able to provide an answer, instead opting to bury your face into Sehun’s now clothed chest. You could feel him tense at the action, and you heard him swallow out of nervousness. Yet his hold around you seemed to grow tighter, like he was afraid of losing you again.

It was funny how your body fit perfectly into his. You were designed for each other after all. Sehun’s touch held so much meaning, so much comfort, so much love that had been sent down from the heavens. But it didn’t feel right anymore. Or, maybe, you didn’t want it to feel right anymore.

You closed your eyes, seeing a flurry of coloured swirls on your eyelids as your headache grew worse, fueled by doubt and guilt.

“Sehun,” you began, leaning away from his hold. “I think I need to be alone for a while.”

“What?! But-”

“Please,” you begged, staring into his brown eyes which were flooding with fear and sorrow. “I just need time to think.”

“But...when can I come back?”

You bit your lip in thought. “I don’t know, a couple days maybe? I promise I’ll talk to you then, ok?” Sehun’s jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists as he processed your words. He opened his mouth to argue, but your expression pleaded him to listen. “Do it for me?”

He groaned, voice laced with slight anger and a magnitude of anxiety. “I just found you again. Why are you pushing me away?”

“I’m not I just…” you trailed off, eyes closing, causing tears to pour down your face. Sighing, you looked up at Sehun again. “It’s just a few days. I need to sort some things out. Please.”

There was a pause. “Okay,” he replied reluctantly. His hands hesitantly came up to your face, wiping the tears before he stood up from the steps, reaching out a hand to pull you from your position on the ground. “I’ll be back soon, right?” he mumbled before planting a soft kiss on your forehead. He gave you one last glance of hesitancy before you nodded, reassuring him, and he finally let go of your hand.

As he descended the stairs, he kept glancing up at you, silently begging for you to change your mind and let him stay. Your heart began to surge at the lack of proximity, crying out for his presence, but your mind somehow remained stable, and it willed you to stay silent as you wondered if you were making the correct decision, or were you ruining your life all over again?

A/N: Ok I lied there’s a part 3 ehehe sorry I couldn’t decide yet

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