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the-al-chemist · 1 year

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On This Wild Night — Part Two

Notes: I’m not a natural writer of erotica. I’m just too British for it. Still, it’s good to challenge oneself. So, here’s my first go at taking on something of that nature. Apologies in advance if it’s below par.

A warning: this chapter contains sexual content, descriptions are moderately explicit, and the scene in question involves two enthusiastically consenting adults. There are also several references to character deaths that occur in canon.

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The house was empty. Artemis pulled Charlie inside, where the familiar surroundings of the Weasleys’ kitchen were quiet around them.

When she kissed him, he let go of her hand and brought both of his to her face, his thumbs resting on her cheeks and his fingers at her hairline. She kicked off her shoes, rested her bag down on the kitchen counter, and ran her palms up his chest until she reached his bow tie. Tugging slightly, she worked at the knot so that it came to hang loose around his neck.

Meanwhile, Charlie’s hands began to travel down her body. As they reached her waist, he manoeuvred her to the middle of the room. He pulled his wand out of his back pocket and placed it on the kitchen table so that he could lean back against it, and his fingers dug slightly into her hips as he pulled her towards him.

“How long do you think we have?” she whispered, fingers fiddling with the buttons at the collar of his shirt.

“Speeches are in fifteen minutes.”

“Won’t anyone come looking for us before then?”

“No,” was Charlie’s reply. Artemis could feel his words as much as she could hear them, softly murmured against her skin as he started to trail kisses down her neck to her collarbone.“I made up an excuse. They’ll leave us alone.”

“What did you tell them?” Artemis asked, her voice already breathy. Charlie paused, and pulled his lips away from her sternum to stare at her. “What?”

“We have all of fifteen minutes and you really want to know what rubbish I’ve spouted to keep everyone away? Does it matter?”

“No, you’re right. Waste of time. As you were.”

Charlie shook his head and chuckled, lowering his mouth to — as she could have predicted — Artemis’ breasts. She let out a small moan and brought her hands down to untuck his shirt from his trousers, using her fingers to gently trace the lines where the muscles of his lower abdomen ended above his hips. He pulled her even closer, and she smiled as she felt him stiffen against her for the second time that afternoon.

This time, though, Charlie was responding in kind. He released his hold on her hips to run his palms down her thighs and back up again, bunching up the material of her dress as he went. He moved almost tantalisingly slowly, so that by the time his calloused fingertips grazed the top of her thighs, she could feel her yearning for him like a knot in her core. He continued to tease her with gentle touches that moved closer and further away again as he kissed his way back up her neck to her earlobe.

“Well, we both know there’s nothing else in my way now,” he said wryly, and a moment later, his fingers were exploring the wetness between her legs. His lips moved back to hers, and she felt them curve into a smile as she sighed against them, her hips already gently bucking against his hand.

Determined even now not to let him get the better of her so easily, her hands found his belt. Her fumbling fingers made less light work of it than they would normally, but it wasn’t long before she was able to feel him through just his boxers. A few moments later, those were unbuttoned as well. She continued to work him, firmly massaging the length of his erection, feeling it twitch in her palm as his breath became ragged.

In response, Charlie upped the ante, drawing rough circles with his fingers before delving them into her, curving them to form a question mark. But just as she thought she had the answer, he moved his hand away entirely.

“Why did you stop?” she asked him.

“To do this,” said Charlie’s low voice. A second later, he had hoisted Artemis up, lifting her up from the ground with his hands under her bum.

Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and legs around his waist, and he carried her to the side of the room, resting her back against the wall.

“Smooth,” Artemis muttered. Charlie shrugged nonchalantly, but from the expression on his freckled face she could tell that he was feeling pretty pleased with himself. “How long have you been wanting to pull that move?”

“A while,” he replied, his proud-looking half-smile not slipping one bit. “This seemed like the right time for it.”

“Agreed. You know, I’ve always thought those muscles were wasted on dragons.”

“Definitely. Now, just hold still a second.”

“Why?”

“This bit’s a bit more fiddly, and I now feel like I need to keep up this smooth thing so I can carry on impressing you.”

“You always impress me.”

Charlie kissed her forehead, before concentrating on slowly lowering her down onto him. As he did, Artemis drew a deep shaky breath.

“That alright?” he asked.

“More than alright.”

Artemis kissed him. He returned the kiss, using his tongue to open her mouth and tenderly pushing a strand of hair back from her face. As the kiss began to deepen, she pulled away and looked him straight in the eye.

“Charlie. We’re on a tight schedule.”

“Oh, yeah. Forgot about that.”

He moved his hand from her face to the wall beside her head and started to thrust against her, into her, slow and deliberate. Her mouth found his again, and his teeth grazed her bottom lip. As he continued, Artemis buried one hand in his hair, and grasped at the fabric of the back of his shirt with the other, pulling him closer to her. She wanted him closer, needed him closer. As if he knew, Charlie’s movements became harder and heavier.

A moan escaped her lips and her back arched towards him, the crown of her head hitting the wall behind her loudly and painfully as she threw it back. Instinctively, Charlie moved his hand from the wall in an attempt to cushion the blow. The attempt was unsuccessful, but Artemis’ own hand took hold of it. Their fingers entangled together, and Charlie brought both up above her head as he moved faster still, each buck of his hips causing her breath to hitch.

It was quickly becoming too much for both of them. A heat started to rise in Artemis, burning its way through her until she could stand it no longer. She buried her face into Charlie’s shoulder as fireworks went off in her head, bursting in a myriad of colour and light that only she could see.

While the light behind her eyes was still fading, Charlie followed suit, his final thrust turning into a jerk as he also crashed and burned inside her. They clung to one another for a moment as they recovered, both still panting and trembling.

After one more clumsy kiss, Artemis was lifted up and lowered down so that her feet were on solid ground, her legs almost giving way as she bore weight on them. Charlie waited until she was standing steady before letting go of her and taking a step backwards.

“How’s your head?” he asked, doing his fly back up and tucking his shirt back into his waistband.

“Fine. Well, no. It hurts, but I don’t care. Worth it,” said Artemis. She smoothed down her dress and started trying to help him with his bow tie, not that she knew what she was doing on that front. “Good move, we should try that again some day.”

“I intend to. When you least expect it. It’s a stealth move, that one.”

“Sure. Are we late for the speeches?”

Charlie checked his watch above her head.

“We’ve actually got a minute left,” he said, looking and sounding pleasantly surprised. “Well done, us.”

He opened his palm and held it up to Artemis, who stopped struggling with his tie for a second to hi-five him. Looking back at the still-loose bow tie, she sighed, fetched Charlie’s wand from the table, and pointed it at the fabric around his neck. It immediately formed a passably neat bow.

She handed the wand to its rightful owner, and attempted to neaten up her hair using the window as a mirror, to little avail. Luckily, her hair had been messy before she even left the marquee.

“Will that do?” she asked Charlie, who stood behind her to assess the damage.

“Yes, it looks very pretty.” He wrapped his arms around her and placed a kiss on her right shoulder. “Right. Speeches?”

“Speeches.”

Less dishevelled now, the two of them made their way back out through the garden, hand in hand, talking quietly. Suddenly, Charlie stopped dead in his tracks and let go of Artemis’ hand. She frowned at him.

“What?”

“Here,” he said, and after a quick glance around them, reached into his pocket. “You should probably take your knickers back.”

Artemis grinned and took her pants back from Charlie. She pulled out her wand, and with two quick movements, vanished and conjured them again, so that she was wearing them once more.

“I knew that would get your attention.”

The champagne flutes floated around to top up the glasses once more as everyone sat back down at the end of Ron’s speech.

“I thought he did really well,” said Artemis, holding her glass aloft for one of the bottles to fill, “especially as he was obviously so nervous about it.”

Charlie eyed his youngest brother sceptically. “Was he?”

“Yes.”

“Well, you’d know. I just would have preferred it with a few less anecdotes.”

“I thought they were quite funny anecdotes.”

“Yeah, they were.” Charlie shrugged. “I just don’t think we all needed to know quite so much about the bloke who’s going to be shagging my little sister later.”

“I always thought people stopped having sex after they got married,” Artemis said, and on Charlie’s other side, Kingsley Shacklebolt let out a deep reverberating chuckle.

“The number of redheads in the room might suggest otherwise,” he laughed, leaning forward to make eye contact with Artemis, who grinned.

Charlie grimaced and shook his head, and Artemis nudged his shoulder with her forehead.

“Lighten up, Charlie,” she giggled. She raised her glass to her lips and added under her breath: “Hypocrite.”

Charlie pulled a face at her and put his own glass on the table so that he could poke her in the ribcage. He steeled himself for her retaliation, but didn’t need to. His father had stood up and was hitting his own champagne glass with a teaspoon.

The room fell quiet, and Arthur Weasley pointed his wand to his throat.

“Sonorus,” he said, and his voice became louder, as he introduced himself to the wedding guests. “Good afternoon, everyone. For those of you who don’t know, my name is Arthur, and I’m the father of Ginevra and Ron, along with several other red-headed young men, but they’re all less important today.”

“Oi!” a male voice heckled from a nearby table. Charlie smiled, recognising the voice as that of George.

“Today is all about Ginny — and Harry, of course, but we can talk about him later,” Arthur continued, all too used to being disrupted after over thirty years of fatherhood. “Now, most of you are probably aware that by the time Ginny came along, my lovely wife Molly and I were old hats as far as parenting is concerned, but there were still certain things that we were not prepared for.

“Firstly, up until then we’d only had boys. There’s nothing quite like the panic of a father taking your daughter out in public for the day and her telling you that she needs to go for a wee. Bill, you have this to look forward to,” he added, looking across to the table where Bill was sitting with Victoire on his lap. “Luckily, Ginny’s always been an independent sort of girl, so she had no problem walking off to go by herself, leaving me to worry about her and feel as if she were already growing up too fast. Not that she knew, of course. She wasn’t worried in the slightest. She was fearless.

“That’s the other thing that I wasn’t prepared for: Ginny herself. Anyone who has met our boys will know that Molly and I have a habit of raising children that are either too clever for their own good, too stubborn for their own good—”

“He means you,” whispered Artemis.

“No, he doesn’t,” Charlie whispered back.

“— or just too much trouble for their own good. Ginevra is all three of those things, and much more. It’s no wonder that she’s managed to achieve so much even at the young age she is now. Every day, she does something else that makes me get that same feeling as I did watching the back of her little head walk off that day, and to make me proud to call myself her father.

“The third and final thing that I was unprepared for when I became Ginny’s father, was just how much love I had for her. It’s the most incredible thing about parenthood: how, even if you’ve gone through the process six times before, you still are overwhelmed by the love you have for your children, and surprised by the fact that you even had that much love in you. It’s a very strange thing; you find that same impossible amount of love over and over and over again.” Arthur paused, and took a deep breath. Charlie wondered for a second if he was about to see his father cry, but then Arthur smiled. “And then, in what must be one of the cruelest tricks of nature, your children get older, and they start finding people that they love more than they love you.”

Next to her husband, Molly Weasley had started dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. Charlie watched as Ron’s fiancée nudged him with her elbow and jerked her head in the direction of their mother, and Ron reached over and patted her on the shoulder, somewhat awkwardly.

“It’s sad, at first,” Charlie’s father continued, “but not for long. Because, if they choose well, you end up digging even deeper into the endless caverns of your heart, and finding love for those people as well, for the simple reason that they love your child just as much as you do, and make them happier than you could ever wish to.

“Which brings us nicely on to Harry. I did say I’d be talking about him, as well. Now, all my children have done very well when it comes to choosing their partners, but Ginny managed to pick Harry out of the crowd at a very young age. I guess they don’t call him the Chosen One for nothing.”

There was a quiet titter of laughter across the room, and Harry Potter closed his eyes behind the round frames of his glasses and looked down at the table. His bride squeezed his forearm gently and whispered something into his ear that no one else could have heard. When she faced forward again, both bride and groom were stifling giggles. Charlie smiled. Ginny really did look happier than he’d ever seen her.

“Now, I’ve already mentioned that Ginny is too stubborn for her own good, much like a few other young people in this room,” said Arthur, with a knowing smile. He looked over in the direction of their table, and added, “Don’t worry, I won’t be naming any names, Charlie.”

The laughter that echoed through the room was louder that time. Artemis flashed him a knowing grin.

“Told you so,” she said. He gently batted her across the back of her head. He obviously hadn’t meant to hurt her, but she winced.

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” he whispered, realising that he’d just hit the exact part of her head that had hit the wall not long earlier. Artemis pursed her lips.

“Oh, you will be.”

“Anyway,” Arthur was saying, oblivious to their antics, “our Ginny being the stubborn girl that she is, I knew even then that it was only a matter of time before Harry chose her, too. Maybe that’s why it was so easy for us to accept him as one of our own all those years ago. Molly and I make no secret of the fact that we’ve always loved Harry like yet another son, and I’m so happy that today, we get to officially call him just that.

“I know that I’ve been rambling for some time, and Molly’s going into a state of shock that I’ve managed to talk for this long without even saying the word ‘Muggle’… Oh dear, now I’ve ruined it.” He grinned sheepishly, and for the third time, everyone laughed. “However, I cannot make a speech this afternoon without mentioning that even though today is one of the happiest of my life, there is a certain amount of sadness in this room, too.”

Charlie tensed involuntarily. Of course. It was always going to be a matter of time before someone mentioned the noticeable absence of his brother. He tried to swallow, but his throat had suddenly become too dry even for that.

“I don’t want to dwell on it too much,” his father said, with a sad smile, and eyes glistening with the threat of tears, “but there are so many people who sadly couldn’t be here today, and would have loved to have been.”

Arthur Weasley’s voice caught in his throat, and Charlie looked down at the table. He couldn’t bear to see his father cry. A small hand crept into his field of vision, and took hold of his. Charlie didn’t look up, but he squeezed Artemis’ hand gently, and didn’t let go of it.

“Fabian, Gideon, Albus, Alastor,” Arthur listed. “Frank and Alice, Pandora, Dobby, Cedric, Ted, Sirius, Remus and Dora—”

Charlie looked up now, trying to make eye contact with Artemis, but her eyes were straight ahead, fixed on the little pageboy in the seat opposite her, whose hair had now turned the same shade of red as all the Weasleys’. Her eyes were glazed and her face was blank. She was completely unreadable. Charlie squeezed her hand tighter.

“— and my own dear son, and Ginny’s beloved brother, Fred,” his father��s voice cracked again, but he recovered himself. Charlie’s knuckles were now white. “Last but not least, Harry’s parents, Lily and James, who I know would have been so proud to see what a fine young man they gave this world.

“We as a community and as a family may have lost so many people, but we carry them with us, always. But, like I said, I don’t want to dwell on that. Today is for the living, and I know we’ve done a lot of reminiscing in our speeches today — some of us a little too much reminiscing, maybe.” Arthur looked pointedly at his youngest son. “What I want to do now is look to the future. I can think we can all agree that it’s going to be a very bright one for these two. So, please, raise your glasses to my daughter and her husband.”

Several dozen chairs scraped the floor of the marquee as every single one of the wedding guests rose to their feet. Charlie picked up his champagne glass in his right hand. It felt strange to do so, but he knew that he couldn’t let go of Artemis’ hand to use his left. Not yet. He wasn’t ready. Judging by the fact that Artemis had neglected to pick up her glass at all, neither was she.

“To Harry and Ginny,” said Arthur, raising his glass.

His words echoed around the room, and everyone else lifted their glasses in the air. Charlie nudged Artemis with his elbow, and she seemed to wake up. She let go of his hand, picked up her glass, lifted it up and raised it, whispering the phrase, before hurriedly setting it back down without even drinking from it. Her hand took Charlie’s once more, and she offered him a very small smile, which he returned.

He had half-expected her to walk away as soon as the toast finished, for her default fight or flight response to kick in. But she didn’t. Instead, she stayed where she was: by his side, holding his hand, as if she knew that he just needed her to be there.

#on this wild night #harry potter fanfiction #artemis hexley #charlie weasley #charlie weasley x oc #hphm fic #arthur weasley #ginny weasley #kingsley shacklebolt #weasley family #hinny wedding #charlie weasley smut

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cptn-m · 1 month

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One Piece chapter 1123 review

The idea of arcs and sagas as a two-tier approach to story structure exists mostly in fan wikis rather than officially released material, but it was an effective way to show how a lot of the overarching pre-timeskip stories came together over multiple islands. Post-timeskip, that model became largely irrelevant as everything started to point towards Wano as one massive saga made up of old-saga-length arcs. But here we are again, at what can only be described as the start of a new saga, for the first time in a dozen years.

Yes, Egghead has a self-contained story locked to its local setting, as all arcs in all sagas have, but as the crew sails away from its ending, we realise how much is left up in the air. Bonney and Kuma got symbolic blows in on the architect of their suffering and are out of immediate danger, but they don't yet have a place to settle. I was a little surprised that this final act of Egghead didn't address more directly how much of Kuma's mind can still be salvaged. This chapter raises questions about what death means for a consciousness as fragmented as Vegapunk's, and what the implications are of a satellite surviving instead of the stella. The Seraphim remain a threat, beaten only offscreen using easy-win technology the crew won't have access to again. Overarching villains have been teased, but circumstances aligned to prevent a direct confrontation. It's like being at the end of, say, Whiskey Peak again. Act one of something much, much bigger.

The cover story's quick resolution to the kids' assault on Yamato rings true to the way Oda has tackled themes of prejudice in the past. Think of Hody, who harboured all this hatred based only on the stories told to him by the adults in his life. He was too far gone, but these kids are young enough to have their horizons broadened if other influences are offered. Putting hate to rest by getting to know each other over food and drink feels like a very One Piece thing to do.

But does Oda intend to test this idea by giving Yamato an enemy who won't be so easily brought to the table?

The opening scenes ease in slowly, (enough so that I wonder if this could be the start of volume 111 instead of the last chapter) and let the fallout of the last chapter's ending simmer, but S-Snake's consciousness is a detail worth noting. Are the Seraphim that strong, or are they instead that inhuman?

And in a key example of why I didn't try to fit an Egghead reread and full arc review in last week, Vegpaunk's flashback comes right in on the home stretch to fill in gaps and provide the bigger picture. Weekly reading can be tough. You just don't have the full story until you have the full story.

But the timing's good for this actually. My copy of volume 106 came in last week and obviously got a read when it did, and a lot of the stuff here builds on things in that volume.

Vegapunk's personality comes through hard here, and it's been consistent from the start. He's a genius when it comes to tech, but he has massive blind spots when it comes to people and politics, as well as simply not knowing what genre of story he's in. His choices were probably not the optimal way to handle the situation, but they were undeniably the Vegapunk way to do it. Look back to the start of the arc and Vegapunk's passion for the ideas of infinite energy and widespread access to information. Of course he's not going to dismantle the Mother Flame before the Government can take it, he wants to perfect it so the whole world can use it. Is that playing with fire, risking handing an authoritarian empire a power source for their ultimate weapon? Werner von Punk hasn't concerned himself with the negative potential of his ideas before. Watch him dismiss Jinbe's concerns about the Punk Records database being poisoned by ideologically-driven misinformation. That stuff is not his department, he just wants to finish building things. Vegapunk sold out on his revolutionary sympathies to get Government funding; we see him debate Dragon over this choice. All of these factors run consistently into a personality that would milk the status quo for as long as possible, and try to finish as much work as possible, with his last act of rebellion set to go off only in the event of his death.

His perspective on the decision not to run makes sense as well. The World Government seems so large and so inevitable to a person who has to live with it. Even in lawless lands, the idea of being iced quietly by a Cipher Pol operative would scan as a real threat. Even Wano wasn't safe from that kind of thing. I can see how running seemed pointless in his circumstances. At least staying on Egghead, the assassins ring the front doorbell and give you a moment to make peace. And, of course, the chance for a death that's bombastic and impossible to come up. What would have happened to his countermeasure if the Government had launched a smear campaign to discredit him and reattribute his accomplishments to others the moment he fled? This way, Vegapunk's narrative gets out first.

Now, this is a Shonen manga where a big million to one play of determination and defiance would have been rewarded, like the Strawhats declaring war on the whole Government for Robin, but we can't expect Vegapunk to know he's in that kind of story.

A very interesting point of emphasis in this section of the story is the Cloud Plant. The Buster Call sure as hell didn't care to spare it, but it's the place Edison was last seen before his signal went dead. If he came to the same conclusion about its importance as Vegapunk-stella does here while hearing the broadcast, he might have gone offline deliberately and made off with a vital component needed to recreate the technology on the run. My stance was 'died from his injuries until Oda gives a reason to think otherwise,' and this feels just vague enough to make a reason. The next cover story could be his and Stussy's great escape from the burning island, slipping onto a ship or through the blockade while everyone else is knocked out by Emet's Haki bomb. Let's stick a pin in that one.

And we also get the question of what it means for Vegapunk to die, with his brain separate from his body, and his mind duplicated across half a dozen androids. The lines are blurry; the clones can seemingly share the stella's memories from before they were created - seen through Shaka being the one to trigger the brief flashback to the aftermath of Ohara. But there's also a heirarchy. We're told its the satellites' duty to die to protect the stella, as if there's something special or extra about him that the others lack. But the lack of significant mourning or atmosphere of loss over the stella may be because Oda intends us to think Vegapunk lives on through Lilith. Again, things still to explore.

Now the memory erasure. To be honest, this one does feel a little like it was done for the drama. They've managed to not let anything slip and keep the information from syncing with Punk Records for two weeks as they set up and execute their contingency, but now it's a threat that something could come out? Okay, but then he leaves a note revealing everything short of the traitor's identity anyway. Surely the a scientist's curious need to investigate the claims on the note would cause more disruption than just holding onto the lie. No, this one was done mainly to keep Vegapunk from giving the whole game away to the Strawhats as soon as they arrive.

On the flip side, the conversation with Sanji fills in a gap I remember talking about as it happened. Why did Vegapunk disappear from Sanji's side and wander back into the fire off screen when he was poised to escape? I'd said there felt like there was a beat missing there, and here it is. Good work closing that hole, Oda.

This is running long already, so I won't go too deep into Elbaf expectations from the last page. There'll be plenty of time for that in the months to come, but I'm pleased to see it looking like something Oda's excited to draw, with that same passionate energy as the introduction of Wano. He's been waiting for this, and so have we. Looking forward to watching this final saga continue to develop next week!

(Read on my Wordpress)

#one piece #manga review #monkey d luffy #one piece manga #manga #op manga

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hyperazraphael · 7 months

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Shattering Chains of Dark Fate - A Digimon Story

Hey guys! After having not really engaged with fanfiction for 16-17 years I have spontaneously begun writing a Digimon fanfic! I've uploaded the first 3 chapters to AO3 and I would love it if you would check it out! The story is heavily based on the story of Digimon Frontier, but it does draw on some concepts from Tamers and certainly some inspiration from Adventure. Even though it has a darker, heavier tone in places, especially at the beginning, it is not a grimdark fic and I do try to keep the tone at least reminiscent of the source material the rest of the time. It is, generally speaking, a story of adult characters for a primarily adult audience. It will likely contain M/M romances which are tagged on AO3 though those may change/grow as the story evolves in writing.

Likes and reblogs are also really appreciated! This is kinda a big step for me so sharing it and getting the word out there would mean a lot to me.

The story:

Nearly 50 years ago, the brief incursion of Lucemon - Satan Mode into our reality made humanity irreparably aware of the Digital World. 20 years in our time, and 100s of years in the Digital World, passed until the two worlds would collide again. Since then, humanity and the Digital World have been wrapped in a violent and bloody conflict as Digimon, seemingly unprovoked, launched a campaign to wipe out humanity. Now, the battles are fought in ruined city streets between randomly bio-emerging Digimon and the scattered militaries or one of the mercenary groups hired by the remaining governments to bolster their defenses. One such mercenary is Kazushi who has recently returned to Tokyo where it all began. However, separated from his comrades, badly wounded, and surrounded, he will find himself having to rely on someone he never would've expected: an injured Digimon named Wizardmon. After their desperate escape from an old foe plunges them into the Digital World, they are joined in time by a young Leomon who dreams of becoming a hero, an Angemon with a sinister past seeking redemption, and a gentle Gorillamon seeking a place to belong. Together, can they break the dark chains of fate that bind them and their worlds?

Please check it out here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54267190/

#digimon #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #ao3 link #fanfic #digimon fanfiction #leomon #angemon #wizardmon #gorillamon #digimon frontier #m/m romance #m/m fiction #m/m fanfic

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khoicesbyk · 10 months

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The Royal Romance.

Forevermore.

A/N: this is the next chapter in the journey of my OTP. Follow along for the fun.

Rated: Mature (at times can and will be Explicit. I'll be sure to change the rating when and if that happens). | Contains sexual content and strong language. (You know? The usual. Y'all should be used to this from me by now 😁) | Bolded and/or italicized words are conversations and thoughts of the characters. | Main Characters: King Marquise Rys (LI) and Queen Shanelle Miller-Rys (MC) | All Characters and names: (except MC and original characters created by me and/or other authors [their characters have been mentioned and/or used in the story with their permission] ) are property of Pixelberry.

Current Word Count: words. (may be slightly more or may be slightly less. Look, I stop counting after editing and re-editing and driving myself insane. 🤷🏾‍♀️)

If you’d like to be added to my tag list. Just reblog or dm me and I will gladly add you! 😁😘

This series is rated Mature and/or Explicit. It is NOT reading material that is safe for those under 18. Reader discretion is STRONGLY advised!

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations

Chapter 2.) The Family Rys. Part 1.

It was the end of Summer and the beginning of Fall in Cordonia. It was September and the running of the Cordonian Derby. For the first time in five years. Marquise was excited. He's always loved horses and horse racing and to have it come alive again made him giddy. He had spent the past few weeks meeting with organizers, vendors, horse owners, and staff at the racetrack and stables to make sure everything was in order and the event would go off without a hitch.

He was coming back from a visit to the racetrack when he was greeted by three of his favorite people, his wife and his boys.

“How was it?” Shanelle asked.

“Amazing. Everything is almost ready. The stables and the track are beautiful. I can't wait for everyone to see it.” he replied as he picked up his two toddling babies.

“Good. I know my dad is excited. He said the Derby was one of my grandfathers’ favorite pastimes.”

“I know. The last time I remember seeing him was at a race before he died.”

“I wish I could've been there. I'm sure I would’ve loved it.”

“Of course. And King Dominic would've had the winner of that race given to you.”

“Even though Edward and your father were both King at that point?” Shanelle asked.

“Trust me. Your grandfather didn't care who was King. That horse would've been yours. It's one of things I've always respected about him. You became his reason. It was no longer about him. It became about you.” Marquise replied.

Shanelle smiled wistfully.

“Walk with us?” Marquise asked.

They walked to the playground where the boys wobbled over to the swings.

“Looks like two little someones want their Daddy to push them.”

“They always want me to push them.” Marquise pouted.

“It's what you have those big ass arms for. Now move it. My boys are waiting.”

Marquise cut his eyes at her over his shoulder before going to push the boys.

While most noble parents took an off hand approach to raising their children Marquise and Shanelle do not. They make sure to always be present in their children's lives and if they have to leave them, they know that their kids are safely in the care of Margo and her family.

“There you are! And there's my two little turtle doves!” Margo announced. The boys perked up at the sound of her voice.

“Well Hi mom. It's good to see you too.” Marquise replies.

Margo waved him off and went straight for the twins.

“Y’know I'm starting to get the sense that you love them more than you love me.” Marquise said to his mother.

“I do love them more than I love you.” Margo replied. “You’re an adult son. A fully grown old spinster. Whereas my two precious turtle doves are not.”

Shanelle stifled her laugh.

“You do realize that I control your paycheck right?”

“No your daughter does and she’d be pissed at you if you ever withheld it from her grandmother,” Shanelle replies.

“Indeed she would.”

Marquise groaned.

“How many times do I have to tell you two that she doesn't get a say?”

Margo and Shanelle looked at each other.

“Son, how many times have you ever told your daughter no? Don't answer that because I can do that for you: none! You never tell her no.”

“Your mom has a point.” Shanelle added.

“There’s a first time for everything you know!”

“Not when it comes to your daughter.”

“I have to agree with my Queen. You will never ever be able to tell the Princess no.” Margo quipped.

Marquise cut his eyes at them both before he shook his head.

“How was your appointment mama?” Marquise asked.

“It went well. The newest scans show that the cancer has not grown any and Dr. Pollard thinks my treatments are doing wonderfully. He also believes that with things going so well I may be able to stop treatments soon.” Margo replies.

Marquise closed his eyes and let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank goodness,” Shanelle said.

Margo smiled at them both.

“You two have enough to worry about. You don't need to worry about me.”

Marquise pulled her close.

“Mama we have been over this. As long as I breathe I will always worry about and for you. Especially now. Now have you had a chance to rest?”

“Yes my son I have. And before you ask, yes, I've eaten as well.”

“I wasn't going to ask but thank you for telling me.”

“Suuuuure you weren't.” Shanelle quipped.

“How was your visit to the track?” Margo asked.

“Fantastic. The track and stables are beautiful.” Marquise replied.

“Good. I know how much this meant to you. And to Papa.”

Marquise smiled wistfully.

“God I miss him. I wish he was here. He would've gone with me and would've charmed everyone.”

“That sounds like George,” Shanelle added.

“And after you got back he would've told these two adorable little ones everything in stunning detail.” Margo quipped.

Marquise fixed his face to mimic George.

“You'll see soon my boys. There will be horses and women! Lots of women! Many for you two to choose from!”

Margo shook her head with a smile.

“How I put up with that man for so long even I will never know.”

“You did it because you loved him. Just like you love me.”

“Them son.” Margo corrected him, “I love them and their sister.”

“One of these days I'm gonna get you to admit it!”

“Don’t hold your breath son.”

Shanelle snorted just as one of the boys yawned.

“Uh oh! Sounds like nap time for these two.”

Marquise checked his Apple Watch.

“Yes, and it’s time to go pick Khari up from school.”

“Okay. I’ll go put them down for their naps. And you and Margo go get the Princess.”

“Deal.” Marquise replies before offering an arm to Margo, “Madam Geaneaux?”

“Merci mon roi,” Margo replied.

Soon they were off to get the Princess from school. While outside the school gates, Marquise took time to greet the other parents and speak with as many of them as always. When the gates opened up, all of the children came running out. Many were smiling and giggling as they ran to their parents. Seeing the children reminded Margo of when Marquise was little and waiting to be picked up from school.

“I remember a time when you were this little son,” she whispered to him.

He smiled at her.

“I know. I couldn't wait to see you and my mother.”

“I remember she used to always speak to everyone. Like you do.”

When Marquise looked up there was his little girl. Running straight towards him.

“Hi Daddy! Hi Grammy!” she said as she got to them.

“Hello my love. Did you have a good day at school today?” he asked.

“Uh huh. I even met our new Headmaster. She said you and her went to school together.”

“Really?” he asked.

“Yeah. Her name is Lady Josselyn Gallagher.” Khari replies.

Margo looked at her son.

“Gallagher? Like Lord Gallagher of Comery Isle?” Margo asked.

“Yes. Lady Josselyn is his oldest sister.” Marquise replied.

“Interesting.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

As soon as Marquise said that, Lady Gallagher came walking out of the gates and made a beeline for His Majesty.

“Your Majesty! It's great to see you. It's been far too long.”

“You as well my lady.” Marquise replied.

“I should have known this bright beautiful girl was your daughter,” she said, gesturing to Khari. “How have you been Marquise?”

“Your Majesty. My lady.” Marquise corrected her.

“Yes. My apologies. How have you been, Your Majesty?”

“I’ve been well, thank you. The last I heard you were teaching in Edinburgh.”

“Yes, I was. But I began to feel homesick and when Earl Rickards retired as Headmaster I applied for the vacancy. And the rest is history.”

“Well, it's good to have you here. If you'll excuse us.”

Lady Gallagher nodded politely.

“Of course my King.”

Marquise escorted Margo and Khari to the waiting motorcade. Once inside Khari spoke.

“Daddy can we stop for a snack?” she asked.

“Sure. What would you like?”

“Apple turnovers!” she replied.

“Mama?” he asks Margo.

“I agree with the Princess,” Margo replies.

“Turnovers it is!”

“And Cinnamon Rolls for Mommy. And maybe some apple juice for the boys,” Khari added.

“Very well my love.”

Marquise turned to the driver.

“Diego can you take us to Bookaholic Cafe please?”

Soon they were off to the cafe for snacks then to the palace. Later after helping Khari with her homework, playtime with the boys, a very animated family dinner, bubble baths, and bedtime stories, the Royals were relaxing by a fire in the Residence.

“Now this is more like it. A glass of Lowyn Black, a roaring fire, and my human pillow.” Shanelle said with contented sigh.

“You’re lucky I love you.”

“Shhhh! Less talkie more laying still.”

Marquise rolled his eyes good naturedly.

“I met Khari’s new Headmaster today.”

“Really?” Shanelle asked.

“Yup. Lady Josselyn Gallagher is the new Headmaster.”

Shanelle sat up slightly.

“Gallagher as in?” she asked.

“You sound like mom. But to answer your question, yes, THAT Gallagher. She's his oldest sister. She and I went to school together. In addition to being the ladies football captain, she was one of Naya’s best friends.” Marquise replies.

Shanelle groaned.

“Of course she was…is she going to be a problem?” Shanelle asks.

“No I don't think so. While her brother and sister-in-law may be a pain in the ass, she's not. At least she shouldn't be.” Marquise replied.

“Famous last words.” Shanelle muttered.

“Besides she knows she can be removed from her post as Headmaster.”

“She can?” Shanelle asks.

“Yes. The school advisory panel who hired her sent over her contract. There's a clause in the contract that specifically states that I can remove her if I find she's harmful to the children at the school.” Marquise replied.

“I wonder how her brother feels.”

“He’s probably thrilled. Although Josselyn had no interest in courtly politics when we were growing up, I'm sure she has mild interest now. Especially when her brother is a Head Of State.”

“I’m really starting to not like that family.”

“Josselyn is harmless. She used to have a crush on Bannon growing up but he always turned her down.”

“Smart man.” Shanelle quipped.

Marquise shook his head.

“Now onto more exciting matters. Like the Derby in two weeks. I'm so excited.”

“I know my dad is too. He and mama said they'd arrive with the kids.”

“Good. I'm excited for our children to see the stables and feed the horses.”

“I’m not too sure the boys will get it though.”

“Oh I’m sure they won't but at least they'll look cute.”

“True.”

The couple enjoyed the rest of their quiet evening together. Sipping wine and being snuggled up together. A few days later Shanelle found herself back home in New York for New York Fashion Week. She also took the time to spend time with her parents.

“It's good to have you home Butterfly,” Shantel said to her daughter.

“Oh please. You’re just excited that we’re going to the fashion show tonight.” Damian piped up.

Shantel rolled her eyes.

“Oh, hush! I could've gone for years if someone would've taken me, Mr. Ambassador.”

“If I've told you once then I've told you a thousand times Shantel, I am not sitting through five hours of ugly-looking walking planks wearing fishnet!” Damien fussed.

“Okay break it up you two! Besides, it's time for us to go mama.”

“I’m so excited.”

Damien shook his head with a smile.

“Enjoy my loves.”

“Byeeeee!” they said as they walked out the door.

They arrived at the Alexander McQueen show early enough to get backstage and meet a few of the models and designers, before taking their seats and being awed by the show. Later that night after Shanelle and her mother got back it was all Shantel wanted to talk about. Just as Shanelle got ready for bed, her father popped his head in to speak.

“Do you know your mother hasn’t shut up yet?” He asks.

Shanelle snorted.

“Leave her alone. She had an amazing time.”

Damien shook his head with a smile as sat down on the edge of her bed.

“I know. It’s all I’m going to hear about for the next millennia.”

“Stop it, Daddy.”

“Did you enjoy yourself my love?” Damien asks.

“I did. I enjoy the shows. Next year I’m going to Paris Fashion Week.” she replies.

“Please don’t take your mother. She’ll never let me live it down.”

“No promises.”

Damien smiled before leaving her bedroom. After a FaceTime call to her husband to tell her babies goodnight she went on to bed. The next few days were a blur of shows, shopping, and photos. Shanelle was asked by designer Christian Siriano himself to pose for his Haute Couture Line. But what she was most excited about was having a quiet dinner with her Dad.

“Have you had fun this week?” Damien asks.

“Have I ever! It's been so much fun.” Shanelle replies.

“Good. I'm happy you've had a blast. How are things in the kingdom?” he asked.

“Pretty good. Marquise has been interviewing people to fill an official position,” she replies.

“Oh? What position?”

“Education Minister.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Duke Francis has decided to retire at the end of the month. So this week he's doing interviews.”

“I wonder…” Damien trailed off.

“Wonder what Daddy?”

“I wonder if he'd offer your mother the position.”

“Uh Daddy Mom retired, remember?”

“You know your mother has never stayed away from the one thing she loves besides her family. She's been hosting workshops left and right for months.”

Shanelle smiled softly.

“I should've known that she'd never truly walk away. I'll text him and have him interview with her. More than likely the job is hers.”

“Of course. She's an educator at her core.”

“And the schedule will give her the flexibility that her teaching job didn't necessarily give her.”

“Besides, your mother never really liked Burgess. She always said he was too stuffy for the role.”

“In her defense, Mom wasn't wrong.”

The two laughed.

After spending time with her parents, Shanelle couldn't leave New York without seeing her nieces and nephew. As soon as she got to Dee's, AJ came barreling out of the house, nearly knocking Shanelle down. Not that she minded.

“TiTi!”

“Hi, pretty girl!”

“TiTi come to see me?”

Shanelle’s heart nearly melted.

“Yes, Precious, I came to see you.”

“Yayyyy! I missed you TiTi.”

“I missed you too sweetheart.”

When Shanelle looked up at the entrance Dee was standing there shaking her head with a smile.

“I swear you two are so dramatic.”

“Whatever! You’re just jealous!”

Shanelle put AJ down long enough to hug her mother.

“It's good to see you Nelle,” Dee said.

“Same love.”

The girls have been friends for years. It's always a good time when they get together. After playing with AJ until she fell asleep Shanelle got to see and hold her youngest niece and nephew and catch up with Dee.

“I swear nothing beats that new baby smell.”

“Unless it's a dirty diaper.” Dee quipped.

“True.”

The girls laughed.

“How are you doing babe? Really.” Shanelle asked.

Dee chuckled softly.

“You never stop,” Dee replies.

“How long have you known me, Ms. Day?”

“As you always say forever and a day. But to answer your question, I'm doing good. James and I are in a great place. We have these beautiful little ones. Our businesses are booming. We're good I promise.” Dee replied.

“Good. It does my heart good to see you happy.”

“Thanks, Nelle. I know you worry about me and trust me I appreciate it and you more than you know but I promise I'm okay.”

“Alright, love.”

“How are Marquise and the kids?” Dee asked.

“Driving me crazy. I'm kidding. The boys are toddling all over the place. Khari is bossing everyone in my damn house around. And their daddy is the same lovable beanstalk he's always been. We're good love.” Shanelle replies.

Dee laughed.

“Stop calling him that.”

“I will do no such thing! It's not my fault he's 6’5.”

“Be nice Nelle.”

“Oh, be quiet! The only reason you’re defending him is because he has Bookaholic cater his meetings on top of the fact he and Khari always go to the cafe after she gets outta school.”

“Exactly. He and your dad are two of my best customers. Marquise has had us cater all his meetings as well as catering breakfast and lunch for your palace staff since we opened there and your dad is always buying three dozen chocolate croissants and two large Dark Roast coffees with hazelnut cream and sugar from our flagship.”

Shanelle rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

“Okay. And when those two eat you out of stock don't dare you call me! Because I ain't got nothing to do with it!” Shanelle warned.

The girls laughed.

“Thank you for coming to check on us. I appreciate it so much.”

“Always my love. It's what family does.”

Dee hugged her.

“I love you, Nelle.”

“I love you too babe.”

Meanwhile, in Cordonia, Marquise was about to interview his mother-in-law for the position of Education Minister. When he called her on FaceTime she picked up with a smile.

“Hello, son in love. How are you?” she asked.

“I'm doing good Mom,” he replied.

“How are my grandbabies?”

“They're good. Khari is at school doing God knows what. And the boys are here but I put them down for a nap. I was hoping you had a free moment.”

“For the King? Always honey. How can I help you?” Shantel asks.

Marquise chuckled.

“I’ll get to the point. I have an opportunity for you.”

“Oh? What kind of opportunity?” she asked.

“Duke Francis has decided to retire at the end of the month. And I now have to fill his position as Education Minister. And after having interviews all week I was hoping to have you take the position.” he replied.

“You want me?! According to the law Marquise, that position is only to be filled by someone of noble status.”

“To be fair, you are married to a Prince and you were given the title of Duchess by his father, your daughter is the Queen of Cordonia, and your grandchildren are the Heirs to the throne. So I think that counts towards you having noble status.”

Shantel snorted.

“This is nepotism, son.”

“This is politics.”

“Uh-huh. Who put you up to this?” Shantel asks.

“Your daughter might have not so lightly suggested that this position is perfect for you. And when I asked your husband, he agreed,” he replies.

Shantel shook her head with a smile.

“And they know as well as I do that education has been your entire purpose in life. You love championing and advocating for students and educators. I also know that even though you retired, you never really stepped away. This is an opportunity for you to continue your amazing work while having flexibility. So what do you say, Mom?”

“What are the duties of being the Education Minister?” she asks.

“You would review, revise, and set the curriculum for the school year. You are also the one who hires, reprimands, and fires the leaders of every school board in Cordonia. In terms of Cordonia University and the smaller colleges, their curriculum is set based on the different majors, but you would still be able to see and add or change the course requirements, and you would oversee admissions as well as write the standards for that and you would oversee college staff members, and you would also be required to quarterly meetings with administrators four times a year.” he replies.

Shantel nodded.

“That's not bad. Would I have to move?” she asks.

“I knew you'd ask that. Like I told Damien no. You wouldn't have to move if you don't want to. If you choose to stay where you are I would have an office for you set up here in the Parliamentary Building but your primary office would be at the Consulate in New York.”

“You really do think of everything son.”

Marquise snickered.

“I try.”

Shantel smiled.

“Alright son-in-love you've convinced me. If you’re truly offering me the position, I will gladly accept.”

Marquise let out a sigh of relief.

“It's yours, Your Grace.”

“Thank you, honey. It's an honor.”

“The honor is mine. We’ll talk more about it after the race.”

“Sounds good. I'll see you soon, son. Give my babies a hug and kiss from me.”

“Will do, Mom.”

Just as he hung up with his mother-in-law, his wife called.

“Hey, beautiful!”

“Hey yourself handsome. How'd it go with mom?” she asked.

“We tentatively have a new Education Minister,” he replies.

“Yay! I'm so glad she agreed.”

“We’ll talk more about it after the race but for now we celebrate.”

“It'll be so good to have her at the helm.”

“Indeed. How is your trip, my love?”

“Amazing! I can't wait to show you and Khari everything.”

“How many bags are you bringing back?” he asks.

“Enough to make you thankful that I only fly private,” she replied.

“Oh for the love of God,” he said with a groan.

“Oh quit bitching! I got gifts for you, the kids, and a new Birkin for your mom.”

“What is it with you women and those overpriced handbags?” he grumbled.

“Quiet!” she snapped at him.

Marquise shook his head with a smile just as one of the twins woke up from their nap.

“Sounds like one of the littles is waking up. Be right back.”

“Okay.”

Marquise switched off his camera and then returned with one of the boys in his arms.

“My love look,” he whispered to his half-awake son, “there's your mother.”

Zyon blinked sleepily and when he looked up to see his mom he half smiled.

“Hi, Pumpkin! I miss you. I'll see you tomorrow okay?”

Zyon just laid his head on his father’s shoulder and yawned.

“Let me deal with him and I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay. I'll see you and them tomorrow. Love you.”

“I love you too, my love.”

The next day Shanelle was home and bearing gifts. Toys for her children, new cologne for her husband, and as promised a new Birkin bag for Margo.

“Oh, it's beautiful, Your Majesty! You shouldn't have.”

“Nonsense! You had been wishing for this bag for months. Besides, I promised your daughter and granddaughters that I'd get it for you when I was in New York.”

Margo shook her head with a smile.

“Thank you, Shanelle. Truly.”

“Don't thank me. Thank your son. It was his card I used.”

Marquise made a face.

“The only reason I won't make a fuss is because you had a good reason to use my card. Also, give me my card back! What is wrong with you?!”

Shanelle handed him his card back as he grumbled.

“Now if you two will excuse me, I've been away from my babies for far too long. I'm due for some twin snuggles.”

And off she went to be with her littlest ones. That following week they hosted many other royal allies, and then that weekend the family was getting ready for the Derby. While Khari was getting ready with her grandmothers, Shanelle was getting the twins ready.

“Okay, you two. Let's get dressed.”

Unfortunately, the boys would rather play with their pups.

“We don't want to be late boys. Your daddy will have a fit.”

She managed to get Kylo dressed but Zyon wasn't ready to go yet. Instead of getting dressed, Zyon took off down the hall in nothing but a diaper.

“Zyon, come back here!”

The giggling 10-month-old ran from his mother and almost ran past his father.

“Whoa! And where are you going my love?” he asked as he picked up his son. “Now now, we will have time to play later. But right now we have to get ready.”

Marquise returned Zyon to his mother so he could get dressed and they could get ready as well. Soon the family was off to the racetrack. When they got to the stables, their daughter was excited to see the horses.

“Come on Daddy! Let's go!” Khari said before taking off towards the horses.

“Wait for your brothers!” he replied as he pushed the stroller with the twins.

Khari stopped long enough for him to catch up.

“Sorry.”

“No worries. Besides you can't feed the horses without apples now can you?” Marquise asked.

Khari shook her head no.

“Now let's go feed the horses.”

His Majesty helped the children feed the horses although the boys didn't quite understand that the apples were for the horses, but they had fun nonetheless.

“How was it?” Shanelle asked her husband.

“They had a blast. The horses are beautiful and they were so gentle and patient.” Marquise replies.

They soon left the stables and headed to the red carpet. Their Majesties watched as Shanelle’s parents and Margo escorted their kids on the red carpet. The little ones stole the show. Many of the paparazzi clamored to get pictures of the smiling young royals.

“Look at my babies!” Shanelle whispered proudly.

Marquise shook his head with a small chuckle.

“My poor boys. They don't know what to do. It's adorable.”

“There was a time that you didn't either.”

“True I didn't. But I'm thankful that they have their sister and our parents with them.”

They watched as Khari helped her brothers walk up the red carpet steps.

“Well my Queen, it's showtime.”

“I live for this.”

“You or your ego?” he asked.

“Both,” she replies.

Marquise snickered as they walked the red carpet. The couple had the paparazzi buzzing about their outfits and especially Shanelle’s flowery headpiece.

“I will never understand why I let you talk me into letting you wear this thing.”

“Simple. You didn't say anything because you knew I'd look good in it.”

“True. It's just huge!”

“That's the point, Your Majesty.”

“You just love to be over the top.”

“Your fault.”

“Indeed it is.”

The couple walked into their new private box where their entire family was mingling about. When they got there Shanelle spotted Damien staring and smiling wistfully at a portrait of his parents. She walked over to him and laid her chin on his shoulder.

“Are you okay Daddy?” she asked.

“Yes my darling, I'm fine. I had almost forgotten about this portrait. This was commissioned after their 10th wedding anniversary. They look so young.” Damien said to her.

“It was found in the archives a few months ago, and it was faded and covered in dust. So I had it restored and had it hung here in their honor and yours.”

Damien smiles softly.

“Thank you my darling. They would've been thrilled to see it.”

“I know you miss them. Especially today. But they're here Daddy. And they're happy.”

Damien kissed the back of his daughter's hand.

“I know.”

Khari worked over to them

“Who’s that mommy?” Khari asked.

“They're my grandparents. Pop Pop’s mom and dad.” Shanelle replied.

Khari looked up at the portrait and smiled.

“Your mom is very pretty Pop Pop.”

Damien smiled.

“Thank you, sunshine. She would've loved to be here today. She and my father loved horses and horse racing.”

“Did they have horses?” Khari asked.

“Mmmhmm. Every time we had a new foal in the stables I got to name them.” Damien replies.

“Like me?” she asked.

“Just like you. You have to remember sunshine, Pop Pop is a Prince,” he replied.

“One of the best Princes ever.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. Now let's go grab a bite to eat.”

“Okay, Pop Pop! Let's go.” Khari said as she took his hand and they walked over to where the buffet was.

Shanelle stayed looking at the portrait as her mother walked up behind her.

“I thought you were gonna tell him about the portrait, Mom,” Shanelle said to her mother.

“I was but I wanted to see the look of shock and love on his face,” Shantel replies.

Shanelle smiled wistfully.

“I miss them. There are days where I wish they were here to guide me.”

“They are here, baby. They're always here.”

Shanelle smiled at her mother.

“Marquise and Daddy are always telling me that they'd be proud of me. It's just sometimes I wish I could hear them say it.”

“I know honey. And your dad and husband are right. Your grandparents would be so proud of you.”

“I know.”

“Good. Now let's go get something to nibble on.”

Shanelle followed her mother over to the buffet. After grabbing food, Shanelle joined her husband at the podium. It was time for them to give the opening remarks.

“Good afternoon to one and all. Today is a fine day for a race wouldn't you all agree? Today is the first running of the Cordonian Derby in nearly 5 years. That's a long time for a lot of us. It has been a long road to get here. After a long wait, we will all get to experience our kingdom’s oldest and most celebrated pastime. And now I believe Her Majesty has but one thing to say.”

“Let the races begin!” Shanelle announced.

Soon a flurry of bettors were seen running to place a bevy of bets. Including many in their family. Namely Logan. He. Marquise and Damien were sitting in the King’s lounge.

“$98, $99, $85,000.00!” he announced triumphantly after counting his winnings.

“Well done Logan,” Damien said to him.

“Thanks Pop.”

“That's nothing. Wait until the main race. You could win up to quadruple that.” Marquise said as he pulled out his cigar case.

“Cigars? Have I ever told you that I love coming here?” Logan asks.

Marquise snorted before passing a cigar to both Logan and his father-in-law.

“Come to Papa!”

“Thank you, son.”

“Of course. It's a special occasion so it's time for the rarities.”

“How rare?” Logan asked.

“These are El Rey De España cigars,” Marquise replies.

Logan whistled impressed as he lit his cigar.

“I can't believe you got your hands on these. They only produce 20 cases a year.”

“I know. I bought the company and the towns surrounding it in Cuba a few months after I got married. They make them for me all the time, but they only publicly produce 20 cases a year because that's all I'm willing to give up.”

That piqued Logan’s interest.

“Would it be too much?” Logan asked.

“Yeah yeah. I’ll have a couple of cases sent to you for Christmas like I do Damien,” Marquise replies.

“I knew big sis marrying you would pay off for me.”

A waiter brought a bottle of whiskey and three glasses of ice.

“For you and your guests Your Majesty.”

“Thank you, Vander. That will be all.”

The waiter bowed before leaving.

“It's like you're trying to spoil me!”

“Go to hell, Logan,” Marquise replied as he poured drinks for the three of them. “Gentlemen, salud.”

They clinked their drinks before downing them. Meanwhile, Shanelle was catching up with her girls.

“It's so beautiful here,” Bronwyn said.

“Thank you, babe. My husband put a lot of thought, time, and effort into this.”

“Forget the grounds. Can we talk about the food? These little steak crostini things are everything!” Robin piped up.

Shanelle laughed.

“I'm glad you like them, baby.”

“How are you, Nelle?” Bronwyn asks.

“I'm good love. I'm happy that today is finally here. And so far it's been an amazing success. Everything has gone off without a hitch.”

Just then an attendant walked up to the girls.

“Pardon the interruption my Queen but there's someone here to see you.”

The girls looked at each other.

“Who is it?” Shanelle asked.

That's when Khari’s Headmaster walked up.

“Good afternoon, Your Majesty! I'm Khari’s Headmaster. Lady Josselyn Gallagher.” she said to Shanelle.

“Good afternoon Headmaster Gallagher. It's good to finally meet you.” Shanelle replied.

“Indeed. I wanted to introduce myself since we haven't had the chance to meet. Khari talks about you and her father all the time.”

“I'm sure she does.”

“Well, I won't take up too much of your time. Again, I just wanted to introduce myself to you.”

“Thank you, Headmaster. We’ll talk soon.”

Lady Gallagher bowed her head before leaving. When Shanelle sat back down, the girls noticed the slight agitation on her face.

“Okay, spill,” Rob said to Shanelle.

“What?” Shanelle replies.

“Who the hell was that and why do you look like you were ready to knock her ass out?” Robin asks.

Bronwyn snickered at the look on Shanelle’s face.

“You make me sound violent, Ro.”

“You are violent!” they replied.

Shanelle sucked her teeth.

“Trollops! The both of you!”

“Answer the question, Nelle.”

“First off, I was not about to knock her ass out. Thank you very much.”

Bron and Rob looked at each other.

“And second, that is the new Headmaster of Khari’s school.”

“Okay fine, so you weren't gonna punch her lights out. That still doesn't answer Rob’s question of why do you look like that?” Bronwyn said.

“You remember me telling y'all and the girls about the new Head of State for Comery Isle. Lord Gallagher?” Shanelle asked.

“Yeah. Isn't he the one who was sitting on YOUR throne the first time y'all met?” Robin replies.

“Yup. And you girls just met his oldest sister. Oh and not only was she in class with my husband, she used to be his ex’s best friend.”

The girls looked at each other.

“Do we need to handle a problem?” Bronwyn asked.

“And you know I carry my knucks with me,” Robin added.

“And you two scallywags have the audacity to call me violent. While I appreciate the eagerness you two have to put your feet up somebody’s ass, stop it! So far she hasn't even shown an ounce of interest in anything that has to do with politics.” Shanelle replies.

“And what does that mean to the people here?” Rob asks.

“Besides nothing,” Bronwyn added.

Shanelle snorted.

“This is why I love you two. It means she has no interest in politics. At least not right now.”

“Okay. But you know that if she's ever feeling froggy.” Bronwyn warned.

Shanelle cackled.

“Girl! Bye! You live in California! You can't do anything to her.”

“Shit! The hell I can't. Don't think for one second that I won't hop on my plane to come jam my foot up somebody's ass!”

Rob and Shanelle died laughing.

“Calm down Crusher!” Rob said to her.

“Yeah. Besides, if she ever becomes a problem I always know who to call.” Shanelle said.

“As long as you know.” Bronwyn quipped.

“Chile! It's almost time for the main race so I'm gonna go get the boys. I'll be right back.”

That's when Shanelle walked from where the girls were sitting into the lounge where the guys were.

“I knew I'd find you three underneath all this cigar smoke.”

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Marquise asked.

“Indeed I am,” Shanelle replied while pouring herself a drink, “I came here to tell you three that it's almost time for the main race.”

Marquise checked his watch.

“So it is. Well, let's go.”

Logan was the first to stand up.

“More money for meeeeee!” he sang.

“You sound like a kid in a candy store,” Shanelle said to him.

“I am a kid in a candy store!” he said matter-of-factly as he walked out.

Soon everyone was seated and awaiting the main race. The winner of the race won the entire box money. With Logan winning an additional $340,000.00.

Later that night after everyone had gone to bed, the Royals enjoyed a nightcap.

“Today was a success, Your Majesty. You should be proud.” Shanelle said to her husband.

“I am. It's been a long time coming. I'm glad everyone had a good time and won a little pocket change.”

“I'm happy with all the money we raised. I remember a time when it wasn't always like that.”

“True. Did you enjoy spending time with the girls?” he asks.

“I always do. I even met someone interesting today.”

“Oh? Who?” he asked.

“Your daughter's Headmaster. She came and formally introduced herself,” she replied.

Marquise took a thoughtful sip of his drink.

“She was sitting in her brother’s box so it's only natural that she'd want to introduce herself to you since you two have never met.”

“Maybe. Or maybe her brother sent her over to size me up.”

“I don’t think so. She's not the type to dare the wrath of her King. Her brother is. He's impulsive and arrogant as hell; whereas she's more calculated and measured. Besides, I think she enjoys her job as an educator more than anything.”

“I will take your word for it. In the meantime, I have wine to finish.”

“You do that. I'm gonna go check on our children.”

“They're sleeping, babe.”

Marquise shrugged helplessly.

“Bad habit.”

Shanelle shook her head.

“This is true. Okay, go check on them.”

Shanelle watched her husband disappear down the hall before she went back to her wine.

A few days later Marquise was going over a budget proposal for the kingdom when he heard a loud commotion outside his office.

“What in the world is going on?” he thought.

That's when a guard ran into his office.

“Your Majesty! Come quick!”

“What is it?”

“It's Mrs. Geaneaux. She's fallen.”

He felt like his heart stopped.

“What?! Where is she?!” he asked.

“This way.” the guard replied before he led Marquise to where Margo had fallen. When he got to her she was just starting to regain her standing.

“Mama! Are you alright? What happened?” he asks her.

“I'm fine, my dear. I just got a little dizzy, that's all,” she replies.

“Here let me help you up.”

Marquise slowly helped her to her feet. He quickly scanned her to make sure she wasn't seriously injured.

“Are you hurt?” he asked.

“Only my pride, my love. I'm okay,” she replied.

“Let's get you to my office so you can have a place to sit down,” he said to her, “where is your cane?”

“Right here, Your Majesty.” a young guard holding her cane replied.

“Thank you,” Marquise said to the guard before turning his attention back to his mother, “can you walk? Do you need a wheelchair?”

“No no. I can walk.”

Taking his arm and walking gingerly, Margo walked with Marquise back to his office. Once inside he led her to the sofa and helped her sit down.

“Thank you, my son.”

Marquise turned to the female guard holding Margo’s cane.

“Let her son Bannon and my wife know that she's here and that she's fallen.”

“At once Your Majesty.”

The guard handed Marquise her cane before leaving.

“Mama, are you sure you’re not hurt?” he asked.

“Yes. I promise I'm fine. It was just a fall Marquise.” she replies.

“Fall my ass. You aren't even supposed to be here today. What are you doing here Mama? You should be at home resting.” Marquise fussed.

“This is my home son.”

“Mama you know what I mean! You had another round of treatments today. And when you have those treatments, you are supposed to be at home when they're done. We've been over this!” Marquise snapped at her.

Marquise shook his head sadly.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you. I had no right.”

Margo just smiled.

“Come here.”

“What?” he asks.

“Come. Here,” she replied.

When he sat next to her, she wrapped him in the motherly hug he knew all too well.

“My boy. My sweet beautiful boy. I'm not angry about your concern for me. And I'm sorry if my fall scared you. But assure you that I'm alright.”

Marquise took a deep breath.

“I know…I just panicked when I saw you.”

Margo smiled warmly at him.

“You never stop. You are determined to protect me.”

“You always protected me so it's the very least that I can do.”

Just then her oldest son Bannon came rushing in.

“A guard came and got me. What happened?” he asked.

“She fell,” Marquise replied.

“And he's making a big fuss of it.” Margo quipped.

“As he should! You aren't supposed to be here mother.”

“Oh for the love of God! Both of you stop it! I have the right to come and go in this palace as I please!” Margo fussed.

“And I'm starting to regret granting it to you,” Marquise muttered.

“His Majesty has a point.”

Margo gave them both a look that shut them right up.

“Much better. Now I came here because I would've been bored at home. And as much as I love that my two oldest boys want to look out for me, I am fine. Nothing is broken or bruised. Outside of my pride that is.”

The men looked at each other.

“If your Papa could never get me to change my mind, neither can the two of you.”

“How does she do that?” Bannon asked Marquise.

“I have no idea,” Marquise replies.

Marquise sighed.

“Will you let us take you to your room here?” Bannon asked.

“Yes. If it'll make you both feel better. And before either one of you says anything, I promise to rest for the remainder of the day.” Margo replied.

“Very well. Let's get you comfortable.”

After being helped up, Margo walked with her sons on either side of her to her bedroom in the palace. It was right across the hall from Khari and the twins.

“Thank you both for helping me to my room.”

“Do you need anything, Mother?” Bannon asked.

“Just some water. And maybe a turkey club.” Margo replied.

“Of course Madam,” Bannon said to her with a bow before turning to Marquise, “thank you, brother. I'm glad you were there and that she wasn't alone.”

“Of course. It's what family does.”

Bannon smiled gratefully.

“Indeed. I'll be back.”

10 minutes after Bannon left, Shanelle came in with the twins.

“A guard told me what happened. Are you okay Margo?” she asks.

“Yes, my dear. I'm fine. It was just a dizzy spell.” Margo replies.

“I'd prefer it if you didn't have any of those. Thank you.”

Margo chuckled.

“I’ll try.”

Shanelle set the boys down and they wobbled their way over to their grandmother.

“Hello, my sweet turtle doves. Have you come to check on me too?” Margo asked them.

Their only reply was to snuggle in her arms.

“Oh, you two came to give me snuggles. I will gladly accept them.” Margo said to the twins as she snuggled them close.

Marquise smiled at seeing them together. He then turned his attention to his wife.

“Can we talk?” he asked Shanelle, who simply nodded. “We’ll be right back Mama.”

“No rush. I have my turtle doves to keep me company.”

Marquise led his wife outside before letting out a breath he'd been holding in.

“Are you okay?” Shanelle asked him.

“No. I mean she looks fine but when I got to her…” Marquise replies.

“I know. But as George always said, she's a lot stronger than we give her credit for.”

“Yeah. She is. I'm still going to have Dr. Wembley look her over just to be sure that nothing is broken and that her port looks good.”

Shanelle nodded.

“I won't try to talk you out of it.”

“Thank you. I know I'm being overprotective.”

Shanelle rubbed his arms.

“I know Margo well enough to know that she appreciates it. She knows you love her. And she knows you will do any and everything in your power to keep her safe, protected, and healthy.”

Marquise leaned his head against hers.

“Thank you, my love.”

“Always. Now you stay with your mom, and I'll go get Khari from school.”

Marquise kissed her forehead softly.

“Alright. Thank you for understanding.”

Shanelle smiled at him.

After coming home from school, Khari ran straight to Margo’s room with flowers in hand. She was reading to the twins.

“Grammy! Are you okay?” Khari asked.

“Yes, my darling. I'm fine. Are those for me?” Margo replies.

“Yes. Mommy said you had a fall when she came and got me from school. So instead of something to eat, we got you flowers.”

Margo read the worry on Khari’s face.

“Here, come sit with me and your brothers.”

Khari placed the flowers on the bed and climbed in with her and the twins.

“There that's much better. Now that I have all of you with me I know I will feel much better.”

Khari smiled sadly.

“Why the long face my dear?” Margo asked.

Khari looked at her guiltily.

“I got scared that you got hurt and would go away to the happy place like Grandpa,” Khari replied.

If there was one thing Khari loved, it was her grandmother.

Margo tilted her chin up and smiled softly.

“My sweet darling. I promise you that I am not going anywhere. I know you are worried for me and I am so grateful for it and you. But I swear to you that I will be here with you, your brothers, and your cousins for as long as the Good Lord will allow me to be. Okay?”

Khari nodded.

“Yes ma'am.”

“That's my girl. Now did you have a good day at school?” Margo asked her.

“Yes, I did. We had our music theory class. We practiced one of Grandpa’s favorite songs today.” she replied.

“That's wonderful my love. Do you have homework?” Margo asked.

“Yes. And I promise I will do my homework but I wanted to see you first and bring you your flowers.” Khari replies.

“Thank you my darling. It is very sweet of you to think of me.”

Margo pulled her and her brothers close.

“I love you Grammy,” Khari said.

“And I love each of you,” Margo replied as she snuggled with the children.

Marquise watched from the doorway with a smile. When Margo looked up, she smiled at her son.

Later that night Marquise was standing out on the balcony with a drink in his hand.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Shanelle asked as she walked up.

“For you? Always,” he replied.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asks.

He took a sip of his drink.

“If I was, I wouldn't have this drink in my hand,” he replied.

She kissed his shoulder.

“This is why I love you. You are always protective of those you love.”

He closed his eyes and smiled softly.

“You're a good son.”

“Lord knows I try to be.”

Marquise finished his drink before he and Shanelle went to bed.

You've reached the end of Part 1.

Stay tuned for part two!

#khoicesbyk #choices #choices stories you play #pixelberry #fanfic #choices fanfiction #king marquise #king of cordonia #queen shanelle #queen of cordonia #king and queen of cordonia #forevermore #black couple #black love #black marriage #black king liam #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #fics of the week

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cthaliaofficial · 1 month

Text

Cthalia F.A.Q.

Please read this post before asking a question in the blog's ask box! It's possible your question may already be answered here! Questions will be added and answers changed over time.

RELEASE QUESTIONS

Q: When is the story releasing? A: First chapter comes out Saturday, September 28th at 1:00 PM EST!

Q: What will the release schedule be? A: New chapters will be posted weekly on Saturdays at 1:00 PM EST! For the first day of release, two chapters will be posted. Following that, it will be one chapter per week until the book is complete.

Q: Where is the story going to be posted? A: On my Toyhou.se page (toyhou.se/ekholocation). A link will be provided upon release.

Q: Will the story be free to read? A: Yes! No need for a Toyhou.se account, either; the link will be public to guests too!

Q: Will you be drawing cover art for each chapter? A: No, I will not. This is so that I can focus my time elsewhere. I may be making mid-chapter drawings sometimes though, depending on my motivation and time.

Q: Are you looking for someone to make chapter art? A: I appreciate the thought, but no! I wish to do as much of this myself as possible.

MERCH QUESTIONS

Q: Do you have any merch plans for Cthalia? A: At the moment, no. I can't really see myself doing anything monetary with this story; it's always been more of a passion project for me than something I want to make money off of. I would also like to respectfully ask that no fan merch be made for this story; if I'm not profiting off it, you shouldn't either ^^;

Q: Will there be physical copies of Cthalia? A: Highly unlikely, as I would have to print and sell them myself and, as I said above, I can't see myself monetizing this.

FAN CONTENT QUESTIONS

Q: Can I make fanart? A: ABSOLUTELY!! Fanart that does not contain heavy headcanons or non-canon ships may also be posted to Toyhou.se with credit. Please let me know in advance if you are not comfortable with that!

Q: Where can I post fanart? A: You are free to post your fanart to any of your social medias. If you choose to post here on Tumblr, please tag this blog so I can see it and reblog!

Q: Can I write fanfiction for Cthalia? A: Yes, so long as the source material is properly credited. Please do not add fanfiction to the canon characters' libraries on Toyhou.se though.

Q: Can I make a fan OC? A: Yes, so long as the source material is properly credited wherever applicable. However please be aware that art containing fan OCs will not be included in official character galleries on Toyhou.se.

Q: Can I ship (Character A) with (Character B)? A: You are free to ship the characters however you wish, so long as both characters are adults. Shipping child characters with adult characters will result in a hard block.

#author post #cthalia #cthalia faq

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casspurrjoybell-17 · 2 years

Text

HEART'S PRICE - CHAPTER 21

*Warning: Adult Content*

"Did you get a look at the vehicle?" Ambrose Thorne asks as he cleans the cuts on Noah Hunter’s hands and knees.

Ambrose had insisted on healing him, even though Martin had told him it wasn't necessary.

‘It was only a few scrapes, after all but he'd told me that this type of injury was by far the easiest to heal.’

"Stings a bit and then it's done," Ambrose says.

"I barely feel it."

First, though, the abrasions had to be cleaned and disinfected and that's why Noah is perched on the kitchen counter in his underwear, feeling like a kid who just fell off his bike, while Ambrose gently washes the blood and dirt from his torn skin.

"No," Noah says, answering his question.

"The headlights were too bright and then I was too busy not getting killed."

Ambrose swabs his knee with antiseptic and Noah hiss at the sting.

"Sorry, nearly finished," he says, businesslike and bending close to inspect the injury.

"And, you're quite sure it was a deliberate attempt on your life? And not just your everyday variety of bad driver?"

"Pretty damn sure," Noah replies.

"Why else would someone wait until I was in the middle of the street before stomping on the gas? They meant to hit me, Ambrose, at the very least."

Frowning, Ambrose straightens and sets his materials aside, then moves back in front of Noah, quite close and places a hand on each of his knees.

The pain quickly fades and then vanishes beneath Ambrose’s touch but he doesn't release Noah, who finds himself growing uncomfortably aware of the nearness and of the fact that he’s in his underwear and that the handsome Scotsman is standing between his legs.

"I'm glad you're alright, little wolf," he says, with quiet gravity.

"And it certainly sounds like an intentional attack. But why? Are there many people who want you dead?"

"Not that I'm aware," Noah says, almost laughing at the thought and trying to contain the heat steadily building in his chest.

"It must be connected to the case, don't you think? The thief, maybe sending a warning for Dane to back off."

Ambrose studies Noah, his eyes traveling his features as though he might find the answer there.

"I'm no detective but that doesn't fit the pattern so far. Not that it's impossible, of course. We'll have to see what that brother of yours has to say about it."

"It's a good thing you were here tonight," Noah comments wryly and reaches up to adjust his glasses, which by some miracle escaped harm.

"Dane can't accuse you of trying to run me over, at least."

"He doesn't like me much, does he?" Ambrose asks, quirking a brow.

"He doesn't know you," Martin says, wondering if he's ever going to let go of his knees.

"He's protective of you and doesn't want to see you hurt," he replies quietly.

"I suppose he knows you have been, already?"

Flinching, Noah looks away, feeling uncomfortably exposed and wondering exactly what Ambrose sees when he looks at him, if his shattered heart is laid bare in all its mangled glory to his eyes.

"He knows enough," Noah says and swallows.

Finally releasing his hold on Noah’s knees, Ambrose lifts his hands to his face and gently forces him to look at him.

"I meant it, Noah, when I said that I wished yours was the kind of hurt that I could heal. I know from experience it is not but like all wounds, air and light will do it good. You'll tell me about it, soon, I think, when you're ready."

Noah scoffs at that.

"Oh really? The same way I'll ask you to kiss me, huh?"

‘This, I'd decided, I would never do, no matter how much I wanted to.’

Ambrose clearly wants Noah to as well, judging by the way he's looking at him now, with eyes like night ringed in fire.

Ambrose Thorne nods.

"Yes. The very same."

"Well don't hold your breath for that," Noah laughs, aware that his own is a little fast and shallow at the moment.

It catches as Ambrose slides his hands up the outside of Noah’s thighs to his hips and leans close, so the young man feels the brush of his mouth against his ear as he speaks.

"I'm an honest man, Noah Hunter," he murmurs, accent thickening.

"But I'm human enough, after all. Don't go making me a liar."

A shiver runs the length of Noah as he realizes how much danger he could really be in right now.

He might be a wolf but he’s no match for Ambrose Thorne.

He's stronger, older, more powerful,and the very nearness of him is intoxicating.

‘The scent of him, that seductive spice and the heat passing from his body to mine combine to dissolve my will like sugar in warm water. I've never felt like this before, and it's clear he wants me—though I don't understand why —and equally clear that if he had a mind to, he could take what he wants, easily enough.’

And to Noah’s absolute horror, he find the idea highly erotic, to be wanted that way, that much.

Ambrose takes a slow breath and then to Noah’s disappointment and almost equal relief, steps back and takes his hands in his, inspecting the palms.

"Ah, all better," he says, seemingly satisfied with his work, and then turns away and begins to pack up his first-aid kit, as if he hadn't just nearly seduced Noah out of my shorts.

Noah pushes himself off the counter and stands, struggling to get his scattered thoughts and mixed feelings under control and then grabs his torn jeans and pulls them on, hoping Ambrose hasn't noticed the state he’s in.

"Can you heal yourself, too, as well as others?" Noah asks, just for something to say.

Ambrose glances at Noah over his shoulder, a hint of a smirk on his mouth.

"Yes, though it's not as easy, for whatever reason. Takes about twice the effort and works only half as well."

"You said you were a doctor before you became a vet. Why'd you quit?"

Ambrose doesn't say anything and crosses the room to put the medical kit back in the cabinet where he keeps it and for a moment Noah doesn't think he'll answer him.

Then he turns towards him but stays where he is, with the length of the kitchen between them.

Somehow, he seems very far away all of a sudden and the distance makes Noah feel strangely cold.

Ambrose looks at him keenly and there's nothing like amusement on his face.

"It was too hard," he says quietly.

"The pain?" Noah asks.

"No, not the pain," he says, shaking his head.

"Pain you get used to and for most injuries, it doesn't last long, anyway. Poison's among the cruelest weapons, in fact, your boy Julian was the worst I'd had in ages."

"So, what was it then?" Noah asks, curious and made bold by the adrenaline still running in his veins.

Ambrose crosses his arms over his chest and a slight frown bends his mouth.

Noah gets the sense he's choosing whether and what, to tell him.

Then he relaxes and smooths his hands through his long hair, taking a deep breath and coming towards Noah once more.

Noah is not sure what Ambrose means to do and backs away until he feels the counter behind him, his heart-rate increasing as he nears.

Ambrose stops with his chest almost touching Noah’s and pauses for a moment, his expression unreadable.

Then he reaches above and around him and takes down two plates from the shelf overhead.

Noah glares and Ambrose gives him an amused, all-too-knowing look and then goes to the stove and serves them each a portion of the meal he had made.

They hadn't eaten dinner yet but Ambrose had kept it warm.

It was a simple supper of chicken, mashed potatoes and peas and Ambrose sets their plates on the prep-table that occupies the center of the room, pulling up a bar-stool on one side.

It seems they're eating in the kitchen tonight.

Noah follows Ambrose’s lead, sitting opposite him with the length of the table between them and then he waits for him to speak, again.

Ambrose pushes his food around on his plate with his fork for a moment, frowning at it,and then addresses his chicken and peas.

"I was a medic, in the Second World War," he says.

"In those days my age and credentials still made sense, so it was easy enough to do. Jack was there, on the front and I wanted to be where he was. I wanted to use my gift to help, as well, of course. I was a bit arrogant, back then, believe it or not."

Ambrose raises his eyes to Noah’s, who sees the spark of humor in them but it quickly fades.

"Most of the time, I stuck to conventional medicine," he continues.

"And most of the time, that was good enough. When it wasn't, though, when a man was hurt beyond what stitches and bandages could fix, well, that's when I'd use my hidden talent. But as miraculous as my ability might seem, little wolf, I have my limits and I can only do so much. Serious injuries like that, even if I only healed them enough so the man would live, I could only handle, at most, one every few days and even then I laid myself low with exhaustion every time." He pauses for a breath, holding very still and then goes on in a quiet, even voice.

"So when there were multiple casualties, that's when I'd have to decide. First, whether to use my gift at all and possibly put myself out of commission for a time, where I'd be of no use to anyone and second, if I did use it, then on whom. Would I save my dearest friend, who'd fought at my side for months, or the fellow with a wife and newborn babe at home? Would I save the captain who'd saved my life a dozen times already, or the lad, barely seventeen and shot to hell his first day on the front? Would I save my own brother, or myself."

Ambrose gets up and goes to the sink, pouring himself a glass of water.

"Jack knew which I'd choose," he says with his back still turned to Noah.

"So he took away my choice, that day. Took my own pistol right off me, his was out of bullets by then and I didn't know it until too late. He was always good at sleight of hand, Jack was. Anyway, after that, I'd had enough of playing God."

Returning to his seat, Ambrose meets Noah’s eyes and lets out a long breath.

"Satisfied?" he asks, not harshly but with enough rawness in his tone that Noah is taken aback.

"I... I'm sorry. I d-d-didn't m-mean to make you t-tell me. You d-didn't have to tell me," Noah stammers and then clenches his jaw, willing myself to stop.

"I'm sorry about Jack."

"Me too," he says, more softly and then sighs.

"Don't worry, little wolf, I'm not upset with you and I wouldn't have told you if I didn't want to. Only, I suppose it still hurts, even after all this time. That's what I mean when I say I wish this sort of pain was as easy to heal as cuts and bruises. I know of what I speak. That's all."

Clearing his throat, Noah realizes that neither of them have taken a bite of food and they had gone cold.

"What about animals?" Noah asks, scooping some peas and potatoes onto his fork.

"Can you heal them, too?"

Ambrose doesn't answer and when Noah looks up he finds him watching him with raised brows, the spark of humor lighting his eyes like fire once more.

"Noah Hunter," he says with mock severity.

"What kind of man do you think I am? Do you imagine I'd let poor Dougal wear that awful great cone for two weeks, if I could have had it off him any sooner?"

A smile teases Noah’s mouth and he fights to contain it and loses.

"No," he says.

"I don't suppose I do."

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iwillhaveamoonbase · 5 years

Text

We Could Be Heroes

Attending a university on the border between Xadia and Katolis, Callum and Rayla have been secretly together for a year now. Coming clean to their families is one thing. Announcing their relationship to the public is another.

_____________________________________________________________

“You know, if you want to talk to her you have to actually talk to her.” Callum was jolted out of his stupor as Claudia brought him back to reality. “I swear, you haven’t been this bad since before we dated. You’ve been pining after her for a year; maybe it’s time to say something.” Claudia was smirking while sipping her hot brown morning potion; the hustle and bustle of the university cafeteria completely ignored by the pair.

“She’s an elf, Claudia. A Moonshadow elf, at that. You know how they feel about humans.” Callum shifted the eggs on his plate in an efforts to distract himself from Claudia’s prodding.

“Doesn’t change the fact that you like her. And she might like you.”

Callum couldn’t stop the awkward laugh as he began to look everywhere but at his friend. “Don’t say things like that in public. What if someone-”

"What, Callum? Figures out you are crushing on a girl you’ve shared classes with since your first semester? She’s pretty and clever, and, from what Soren says whenever he goes to the gym, really athletic. You’d be stupid not to like her. You’re a prince and on your way to become an archmage. She wouldn’t be getting the short-end of the stick by liking you.”

“She doesn’t like me Claudia. Nothing is going to happen between us.” Claudia sighed before reaching over and patting Callum’s hand. “Why do you want something to happen between?”

Claudia shrugged before turning her neck to look at Rayla. “Because I want you to be happy. You light up when you talk about her and smile more after you work together. She makes you happy, Callum.”

Callum blushed and looked down at his own cup of morning potion. “Don’t tell anyone, Claudia.”

“Soren knows.”

Callum nodded his head from side to side a bit. “Why am I not surprised?”

_____________________

Rayla was doing her best to discreetly look at the two humans a few tables away. Her frequent project partner, Callum, and his friend, Claudia. Rayla and Claudia did not get along at first, mostly due to Claudia using dark magic while Callum had somehow managed to unlock Sky magic. Claudia still didn’t see anything wrong with dark magic and it made Rayla, and every other elf in their vicinity, wary of her. The other reason they didn’t get along? Claudia wouldn’t stop bugging Rayla about Callum.

“You’re looking at that human prince again, Rayla,” Bandlr, a fellow Moonshadow elf hissed. He was just a bit taller than Runaan and covered in toned muscles. The sloping purple marks on his cheeks reminded Rayla of the scythes used during harvest time. He exuded power and arrogance with every little move he made and tended to have either a scowl or a smirk on his face.

“I’m doing no such thing,” she stated absently.

“You better not or your uncle will be pissed.”

“Is that a threat?” Rayla glared over at him and could feel the energy crackling between the two. They lived in the same small town and had known most of the same people since high school. For Rayla, it had been hate at first sight, finding his arrogance and knowledge of her life the biggest turn-off she had ever encountered. He was a thorn in her side that just wouldn’t go away, no thanks to the other Moonshadow elves at the university not wanting to kick one of their own out without ‘proper cause’. For Bandlr, it had been lust at first sight. He spent all his time with Rayla either antagonizing her or trying to charm her. He had once told her that he wouldn’t mind it if she came to him in a fit of rage, just so long as she did.

“Maybe. You know how to shut me up.”

“You’re right. I do.” Rayla leaned in a bit, Bandlr smiling wide as she did. He never saw the punch that went straight to his jaw. “Try to talk with a sore jaw, asshole. Don’t forget, I’m faster than you and I was trained by the best.”

Bandlr glared as he massaged his already bruising jaw. The other elves at the table let the two be, already used to Bandlr’s flirts and Rayla’s violent reaction to them. Sadly for Rayla, it only made him convinced she was a ‘challenge’ for the ‘taking’. “To be fair, Rayla,” interjected a girl with long braids, “you spend a lot of time with this Prince Callum. I don’t think anyone back home would approve. Just because our school is on the border of Katolis and Xadia doesn’t mean you can go fraternizing with humans.”

“Ugh.” Rayla looked up at the ceiling, rolling her eyes. “For the last time, back off. I’m going back to the library.” Rayla grabbed her things, roughly pushed her chair in and stalked off, but not before bumping into Callum and Claudia. “Watch it.” Callum simply nodded as he turned away from her while Claudia raised a brow. “Got something to say?”

“The sexual tension between the two of you is so thick I could cut it with a knife. Just tell him you like him.”

“Mind your own business, Claudia.” Rayla walked as quickly as she could out of the cafeteria and headed towards the apartment complexes off-campus. She continued to look behind her and to the sides as she walked. Rayla eventually stopped in front of a luxurious apartment building and entered the large glass doors. The human doorman smiled and greeted her.

“Another project with Prince Callum, Miss Rayla?”

“You could say that. He texted me that he’s on his way, so I’ll wait for him by his door.”

“Of course, Miss Rayla.”

Up the elevator she went and waited in front of a door on the top floor. It was one of only two, reserved for important dignitaries. ‘Fucking Bandlr. When is he going to get it through his thick skull to leave me alone?’ Rayla’s hand grasped her bag as she bit her lip. ‘They know I’m spending a lot of time with Callum. Who else has noticed?’ She was pulled from her thoughts by a hand softly grasping her’s. “Callum.”

“We going to do that project, Rayla?”

“Yeah, let’s get it over with.” Callum nodded as he unlocked the key to his apartment and let her in first. Rayla was always struck by how minimalist Callum kept the large space. The base of the room was obviously expensive while Callum chose to hang his own art and art that one of his fathers had done. Pictures of his family were dispersed among the opulence of the walls and floors. The furniture was a different story, obviously on the cheaper end, but well taken care of. Callum had felt guilty taking the extravagant room so he had asked for cheaper materials to make his space a home while he was at school. “No one would ever believe me if I told them your apartment was the definition of high-low.” Rayla deposited her bag on the chair closest to the door, grabbing Callum’s bag and doing the same right after.

“You’ve been telling people that you come here?” The slight bit of hope in his voice was clear as day.

“No, of course not. If I did, they might think something was going on between us.” Callum looked down at the floor, that glint of hope suddenly dashed. “They don’t have to know anything is going on.” Rayla didn’t give Callum a chance to nod before she had his face in her hands and her lips against his. Callum wrapped one arm around her waist and made sure his door was locked. Rayla backed him up to his couch and they tumbled down, with her landing between his legs and his other hand landing on her back. “I’ve missed you.”

Callum groaned as she began to nibble at his neck. “It’s only been a week.”

“Uh-huh. A week of not seeing other or texting…or those naughty phone calls you seem so fond of.” Callum gulped. Rayla sat up and began to take off her top. “Pants off. Now.”

“You don’t want me to romance you a bit?” He brushed his hands lightly against her stomach, causing her to quiver above him.

“Later. Now, I just want you.” Callum took off his pants and boxers and laid back. Rayla pulled off her shirt and her own pants and underwear. She quickly climbed on top of him and grasped his length. “I’m gonna go fast and I’m gonna go hard. Alright?” He nodded, reaching to grab her hips. She had a lot of pent up frustration in her and Callum knew by now that it was wisest to let her take the lead. Rayla inserted Callum within her. They groaned together as Rayla grinded on top of him. Quickly picking up pace, she leaned back so her hands were resting on his legs.

Not fully satisfied, Rayla came back up and grabbed Callum by his shirt to pull him up to her. She sealed his lips to hers, grasping his shoulders to give her better leverage. Callum ran circles on her hips with his thumbs. Rayla broke the kiss to nibble at his ear. “Ray…”

“Almost, Callum. Almost.” Rayla had never been shy about what she wanted from him and she wasn’t going to start now. She took one of his hands from her hips to rest right on her clit. “You know what to do.” A sharp nod led to Callum leaning forward and nibbling on her shoulder while circling her. “Ah!”

Callum moved his head to whisper a husky ‘I love you’ in her ear. She quietly repeated it back, locking their lips again. A few thrusts more led Callum and Rayla to completion. He gently laid back, taking her with him. “I missed you, too.”

As they lay on his couch, covered in sweat and panting together, he ran his hand up and down her back. Rayla snuggled her face into his neck, mindful of her horns. “Mhmm, that feels nice.”

“Why did you punch Bandlr today?”

Good mood broken, Rayla broke out into a scowl. “Ugh, the jackass was getting on my nerves. Threatening to tell Runaan about me looking at you.”

“Oh. Would…would that really be such a bad thing?” His hopeful tone had come back full swing and Rayla hated crushing it.

“Callum, we’ve talked about this. Just because the elves and humans are no longer at war doesn’t mean that we’re at peace.”

“I don’t want us to be a secret, Rayla. Not anymore. It was nice, for a while, but I want to be more.”

“What more do you want? We have dinner together, we’re exclusive, I spend the night often enough. What more is there?”

Callum shifted so he could look Rayla in the eyes. “I want you to meet my Dad and Ezran. Well, you’ve met Ezran, but I want you to meet him as my girlfriend. I want to meet Runaan and Tinker and hold your hand on campus and-”

“And what happens if it blows up in our faces?” Rayla closed her eyes to try to keep he anger at bay. This wasn’t the first time they had argued about this and she didn’t want him to know exactly why she didn’t want to tell anyone about their relationship. “You do realize that Runaan could pull me out of school, right? Just because I’m an adult in Katolis doesn’t mean that he isn’t allowed to make those decisions for me in Xadia. The press will hound us both. Why do you want to ruin what we have?” She began to wriggle out of his hold, frustration making her want to move far away from him.

“Why are you scared of what we have?”

“I’m not scared.” Rayla got up, pulled on her underwear and began to move towards the kitchen, Callum following her as he pulled his own boxers up. She went into the cabinet and got a purple glass out as she looked back at him. “I have my own glass here, Callum. I have a whole drawer of my clothes in your apartment. Anyone who looks closely enough at my texts would know that I’ve been deleting more than half of the ones from you. I keep a freaking toothbrush in your bathroom! Do you think I would do any of that, of this, if I was scared?” Her arms were wide and disbelief on her face. Why couldn’t he understand just how big all of that was?

He gave her an incredulous look as the same frustration that had taken over her began to seep into his voice. “Yes, because you and I are the only people that know that any of your stuff is here.”

“I thought you wanted to stay out of the spotlight-”

“Don’t change the subject, Rayla. It has never been about us going public with the world. It’s about telling our families. It’s ALWAYS been about telling our families. Do you think I like telling Ezran that there is nothing between us? I have never had to keep secrets from him before and I don’t like doing it now.” Rayla understood that. Ezran was understanding and had a big heart. She couldn’t imagine anyone felt good after lying to him, least of all Callum.

“And what about your dear Aunt Amaya? Doesn’t she hate elves?”

“She’s marrying a Sunfire elf named Janai. Try again.”

Rayla paused as she looked at him with furrowed brows. “Is she really?”

“It’s all over the news in Katolis. ‘General of the Katolian Army chooses to marry a general of the Sunfire Corps.’”

“I haven’t heard anything about it.” A rough sigh followed by a groan as she got her thoughts back to the topic at hand. “Callum, I want to tell them. I would love to tell Runaan and Tinker about you.”

“Then why can’t we?”

“You don’t see the way the elves look at you. Not just the Moonshadow groups, but all the others. You’re a human prince, even if it is by marriage. King Harrow has not hidden how much he considers you to be his son and you have a target on your back from anyone who doesn’t like him. On top of that, you’re learning primal magic. There are elves that think you’re dangerous because you are the first human ever to learn how to use primal magic without a primal stone. Do you think that you being with an elf is really going to make them think ‘oh, that Prince Callum isn’t such a bad guy? Sure, he’s learning how to use primal magic and is trying to unlock the ability to use all six primal sources, but damn, he’s dating an elf.’”

“So, me wanting to learn magic the right way and rejecting dark magic is the problem?” Callum’s hands were in his hair at this point as Rayla looked ready to throw her glass on the floor. She quickly put it on the counter before she broke it.

“No, Callum. The problem is that you’re human. There are elves all over Xadia that will never accept you, accept us, no matter what you do.”

“Why do you care about them?”

“Because I don’t want to come home to you dead! OK?! I don’t want to walk into your apartment, after we went public or decided it was okay to make-out in the library, just to find your body or to have you end up dead in an alleyway.” All of Rayla’s fears began to pour out of her. She couldn’t stop once she started and wasn’t sure she wanted to. Callum needed to hear why she was fighting him on telling anyone about them. “I was trained in the arts of Moonshadow elf assassins. I know of ways to kill you and make sure that no one will ever find out it was me. And you can bet that I’m not the only one that knows that. Bandlr would be first in line if we went public and if he doesn’t succeed, someone else will. Runaan has a lot of respect among Moonshadow elves, but there are still many more elves and humans who will target you. Your life isn’t worth it, Callum. Us telling our families will only lead to the wrong person finding out.” She was so furious she never saw him walk around the counter to stand in front of her.

Callum grabbed her shoulders and put his forehead against her’s. “Do you think I haven’t thought of that? Of course I have! Just like I have a target on my back, you will have one on your’s. There are people all over the Pentarchy who want elves to stay in Xadia and humans to stay in their kingdoms. There was outrage when Dad announced I was going to school right on the border. When I told a newspaper that I was going to learn primal magic and refuse to learn dark magic, the number of human mages who rioted…I didn’t know there were that many in Katolis alone. And it would probably get much worse if they found out my girlfriend was an elf.”

“Then why is this so important to you?” Callum cupped her face and stroked her cheeks. It was getting harder to look meet his gaze when he looked at her with so much love and adoration.

“Because I love you. And I don’t want to hide it anymore. I know my family will love you and their opinion is the only one that matters to me. Claudia and Soren already keep pushing me to confess to you and Ezran thinks of you as his big sister. I never, ever would have introduced you to Ezran if I wasn’t 100% sure I wanted to be with you. I want to meet Tinker and Runaan and tell them I’ll do everything I can to make you happy. We won’t know unless we try, Rayla. We’ll get through this. Together.”

Rayla sighed as she looked Callum in the eye. The desperation in those green eyes of his let her know that he was serious about this. “If we try, and I mean if, you’re going to have to learn a lot more about Moonshadow elf culture. History class is one thing, but you can really, really piss Runaan off if you do the wrong thing.”

“Like what?” Callum moved his hands up to lightly run his fingertips over the base of one of her horns, sending shivers down her spine as a gasp left her lips. The burn in her belly she had just worked off was back full-force.

“Like that. In any elf culture, you might as well have grabbed my ass while your tongue was down my throat.”

“Noted. Horns are only for behind closed doors. Anything else?”

“Stop stroking my horn and maybe I’ll be able think.”

Callum released her with a long-suffering sigh. “Fine. I guess I can keep my hands off you for a few minutes.”

Rayla snorted as she lightly nudged him backwards. “We tend to spend a lot of time outdoors. Training is outside, lots of festivals and camping trips. It’s not unusual for families to spend nights when the moon is full in their yards. Weddings are outside, too, as are major parties, like birthdays, graduations, and anniversaries,” Rayla counted on her fingers. “Weddings tend to be the night before the full moon and the actual honeymoon starts on the night of the full moon. Something about the moon granting love and fertility and fidelity. When it rains, we go places that have large windows so we can still see the moon at night. Think you can handle all that time outside?”

“I’m sure I’ll make it work. I’ve had to rough it once or twice.”

“If by ‘rough it’ you mean spending time in the Banther Lodge, you are in for a rude awakening.”

#rayllum #rayllum fanfic #the dragon prince #tdp #rayla #prince callum #this first chapter does contain adult material #we could be heroes #moonbase fanfics

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mydisenchantedeulogy · 2 years

Text

Crystalline [Chapter Two] To the Material World [Toushirou Hitsugaya]

A/n: this is a rewrite. Please enjoy.

Warning(s): dark fairy tale elements, alternate universe, adult Toushirou, first-person POV, female OC, arranged marriages, yandere Toushirou, anxiety.

No Minors Allowed!!

A week after the festival, the compound is more alive than I have seen it in months. Attendants scurry like cockroaches across the engawa, preparing in haste for something. I assume it's due to a funeral but I have not heard of a sudden death in the Seireitei.

Then there is the matter of my father.

"Should I be worried?" I ask Himari.

She hums and shakes her head.

"Lord Mamoru seemed rather pleased when he sent me to waken you, though Lady Maemi was brooding for some reason."

I snort.

"Now that is interesting. If Maemi is upset, then I am eager to hear what my father has to say."

Himari remains silent and escorts me across the compound. We pass several attendants on our way, hearing them whisper beneath their breaths. It raises my curiosity, but it is not my business. Though perhaps their conversations have something to do with the urgent reason my father sent for me.

Himari knocks on the door to my father's workroom on the second floor and then announces our arrival at the sliding door. Once we are granted entry, she motions me in and remains outside, closing the door. It is a shame that I have to go through this situation alone. Though to be honest, I am even more eager than before. Something about this seems sudden and bizarre.

"Erimi, dear," my father calls in a chipper tone. His blue eyes shimmer in excitement. "I have wonderful news."

I raise a curious brow, walking further into the room. Maemi stands beside our father on the other side of the desk looking as upset as I had imagined she would be. It thrills me but I contain my excitement.

"What news?" I ask.

He motions to the mat in front of his desk and I sit in anticipation.

"First of all, this was sent to you," my father mentions, pushing to me a small white box decorated in silver trim.

I raise a brow and pick it up. Who would send me this? Opening it, my eyes grow wide. It's a set of blue crystal hair clips shaped like snowflakes. They are the most beautiful things I've ever seen. And beneath them is a note.

At least you have some manners, it reads.

What does that mean? Did someone from the Winter Festival send the hair clips to me? I gasp as the realization hits me in the face like a bucket of ice water. Toushirou?

"Lovely," my father states. "You recognize the sender."

"At least I think so," I utter.

But why? Perhaps he had sent them in pity after I told him the reason for my sour mood.

My father clears his voice. In his hand is a letter.

"And that isn't the best part. The Captain of Squad 10 has asked my permission to have your company for the weekend at his estate in the Material World."

He what? Why? I frown. None of this makes sense.

Maemi scoffs.

"Don't look so down, sister. It's a treat to be allowed into the Human World."

"And rare that one of our clan has been given the chance," My father adds.

I stare at the clips in confusion. While it is true that it is rare for our clan, I can not seem to understand why the captain would want me to join him. The only explanation could be–

"It can't be. Toushirou Hitsugaya is a member of the Gotei 13. He isn't a noble…a-and there is no way he would want to court me."

My father sighs.

"I am aware, but Erimi, our title as nobles has been questioned in the last few decades. There are three remaining families and none of them have shown interest. It worries me that neither of you will be married off."

Is this what he wants to tell me?

"But this can not be what he intends," I argue.

"He sent you a gift," Maemi answers with a grunt. "That is a sign of interest."

Our father scolds her, then looks at me in pity.

"In his letter, he asked for your company only. I know nothing of his plans, but if all goes according to plan, then you will be the wife of a Captain. I had hoped for better, but it's all life has dealt us. At least this way our legacy will not die with me."

I'm not sure how I feel about this. His sharp words feel like a jab. He did not have a son to carry on the clan name and duties, so marrying Maemi and me off was the only option.

"Are you insisting that I go, or is the decision up to me?"

"I insist, Erimi," my father answers simply.

I frown and nod. Of course, he will not let me choose my own life.

"When am I expected to leave?" I ask.

"Tomorrow morning," my father answers. "I need to have the correct papers filed to send you through the Senkaimon. The attendants are already preparing your things."

I understand now what they were doing. Excusing myself from the room, I quickly leave, heading towards my room, but a sudden voice halts me. Maemi hurries to my side and tosses me the gift box.

"You left this," she mentions.

"Thank you," I utter.

Maemi grins. Reaching out, she brushes my shaggy hair behind my ear.

"A word of advice, sister. Captains have a lot of skeletons to hide, so don't be too let down when you find out how ruthless your suitor is. He is known as the Ice Captain for a reason."

Does Maemi know something about Toushirou? I frown and swipe her hand away. Regardless of this, she has no right to add doubt to my head.

"Jealousy isn't a cute look on you," I mention.

Maemi scoffs.

"Wait and see. You are doomed."

She storms past me, leaving me with my thoughts. Worry suddenly consumes me.

The fated day arrives and I am no less prepared. My bags are packed and hidden in the Norimono sitting atop a large tower within the courtyard. With my goodbyes in order, I walk out towards the Senkaimon where a group of porters is waiting, two guards from our royal family, and a lieutenant from the Gotei 13.

The lieutenant with a beauty mark located under the right side of her mouth approaches me with a grin. Her short blond hair sways in the breeze as she leans into a bow.

"I'm Lieutenant Rangiku Matsumoto of Squad 10. And I will be the Shinigami in charge of escorting you to the World of the Living."

"It's nice to meet you. I am Erimi."

So she is Toushirou's lieutenant. I hum in awe. She's pretty, and her figure is remarkable.

"You're so cute," she coos.

My face heats up in embarrassment. Does she honestly think so? Perhaps Toushirou told her to be polite.

Raising a brow, Rangiku grins.

"Also, those hairpins suit you. Are they the ones my captain made for you?"

My eyes grow wide.

"Toushirou made them?"

Rangiku nods.

"As far as I know. He had me deliver them to your estate."

I had no idea. How thoughtful of him.

"I'm eager to see him. I want to thank him personally for them."

"Then we should head out," Rangiku mentions. For a moment her expression falters but just as quickly she offers a smile. "I hope you brought something warm to cover up in. The weather gets below zero in some areas of the region."

Region? Where is Toushirou's estate located?

I hum and walk towards the Norimono. A blanket rests on the seat - Himari's doing I assume. Once I am seated, I open the shade and peek out, watching as Rangiku makes the final preparations.

A gorgeous black insect flutters down and rests on her shoulder. It's called a Jigokuchou; a butterfly that assists Shinigami with a variety of purposes. This one is tasked with guiding us into the Material World.

"Open the gate!" Rangiku shouts.

A grin eases across my face as the Senkaimon opens. An air of excitement surrounds me.

"Please My Lady," a red-haired guard named Kurei states, coming to stand near the window. "Put the shade down until we are through the Senkaimon."

"But I want to see–"

He interrupts me with a stern look.

"I will inform you when we arrive."

There is no arguing with him it seems. I shut the window, groaning as the Norimono begins to move. It's a shame that I'm not able to see. I would like to have witnessed our journey from the Seireitei into the World of the Living.

For the next few minutes, an eerie silence surrounds us as we continue. It is a bit unnerving, but as Kurei ordered, I remain seated in the Norimono with the shade drawn. A sudden icy breeze seeps into the vehicle and I shiver, covering up with the blanket.

Are we there?

"W-wait! You can't do–"

Kurei's voice is cut off as Rangiku yanks back the shade, letting in the cold air.

"Welcome to the World of the Living."

My eyes widen as I peer outside, seeing the vast winter terrain. A forest of snow-covered trees surrounds us, though we seem to be in some sort of clearing.

"It's gorgeous," I utter.

Rangiku smiles.

"Wait until you see the castle. You'll love it."

Castle? I wasn't aware that Toushirou lived in one. My father had mentioned an estate.

"Is this part of the grounds?"

The lieutenant nods.

"While it's not near any sort of shops or people, the grounds are massive. This region is part of the Mangehyou Mountains in south-central Tsuchi no Maki Prefecture."

What fascinates me more is that Toushirou likes to stay in the Material World. It's uncommon for someone like him to cling to life, but perhaps he just favors his solitude.

My heart pounds in excitement.

"When will we arrive at the castle?"

"Momentarily," Rangiku answers.

She smiles but her blue eyes hold sadness in them. I'm not sure of the reason. Releasing the shade, I hear her give orders to the porters to move. It seems that the temperature is rising; the best time to make the trek to the castle.

For the next ten minutes, the Norimoto is carried along a carved-out path in the mountains. When we arrive at the castle, Kurei escorts me from the vehicle and stands beside me, allowing me to clutch his arm so that I don't fall.

My eyes widen in awe. I can hardly believe what I am seeing. The castle is massive with a white exterior and a gray gabled roof decorated with a massive dragon made of what appeared to be ice. A smaller building sat to its right, decorated similarly, except for the tiny white birds that sat on its roof.

It is beautiful, but there is a cloud of loneliness surrounding it. I clutch Kurei's arm in sadness but he does not make a move to comfort me.

"Are you ready?" Rangiku asks. "My captain is waiting."

A plume of air visibly pours from my mouth as I sigh. Despite this strange feeling, I hesitantly bob my head.

Perhaps it's just me.

Only time will tell.

#bleach fanfiction #adult toshiro #alternate universe #toshiro x oc #bleach #bleach fandom #yandere #dark fairytale

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jypbae7 · 3 years

Text

Of Love & War - Chapter 2

Chapters: 1 , 2, 3 , 4

Contains: 18+ material, adult concepts and topics; mentions of bdsm, master and sub dynamics, etc. So if any of that is not for you, please skip this post❤️

Important: Ares = Hyunjin so try not to get confused! I figured me writing both names would be annoying so for now I used Ares.

Okay hope you all enjoy >.<

For the first time in quite a while, Ares slept through the entire night, waking long after the sun had risen. Raya however was still asleep and somehow more beautiful than ever?

He blinked a few more times as if to make sense of it.

Seemingly feeling his movement she hummed sleepily before stirring slightly. Her eyes fluttered open slowly meeting his.

“M-master! G-Good morning!” She was startled by the sight of him. She’d never slept in a bed with him till last night! She quickly covered her face with her hands bashfully, with no makeup to hide her flaws and imperfections.

He pulled her hands off, “don't hide. I’ve never seen how pretty you are in the morning before.”

Her jaw dropped in shock. “P-Pretty?!” She stared at him in utter shock at the compliment. “M-Master, are you feeling okay?”

His brows furrowed, “don’t act as though you don’t know. There’s no way I could do that if I thought you were ugly.”

Tears suddenly poured out of her eyes, completely startling and shocking him.

“W-What's wrong?!”

“F-Forgive me Master. I couldn’t help it, they just started to come out. I guess…I’m just happy that somehow you could look at someone as plain as me and think that...”

“You’re far from plain.” He said, staring down into her eyes before brushing some hair away from her face. One moment his eyes were scanning that adorable face and the next, he was hungrily kissing her as he pinned her down on the bed beneath him.

He pulled away slightly, staring down at her for a moment. She stared up at him wide eyed with those big twinkly eyes. His hands held her small wrists down as he hovered above her. In no time he’d gotten hard from her cute sounds and the feeling of her rosy kiss swollen lips. His big shirt hung off her shoulders showing all the love bites he’d left the night before.

“Mmmf now that I know you’re this lewd in the morning too, I'll have to keep you in my bed much more often…” his voice was purr-like, rumbling from within.

“Whatever you need, Master, no matter when.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” He smirked, taking her lips as he pulled up her shirt.

Just as he was about to help himself to her body there was a loud frantic knock.

“Forgive me terribly, your Excellency! However there has been a sudden arrival of a neighboring God...it seems there's a guest…”

“Who is it?!” Ares snarled loudly, enraged to be disturbed.

“P-Poseidon…”

“What the fuck does that fish bastard want?!” He growled angrily before getting off Raya. He sighed in frustration, still painfully hard. “You’re coming with me. Soon as I finish with the fish bastard you’re gonna take care of what you started.”

“Y-Yes Master!” she said surprised as he scooped her up off the bed.

He pulled her into the shower and while he thoroughly intended to wait till after the meeting, Raya had gone from washing his body to stroking him. She stared down at his length, half covered by bubbles and soap as she bit her lip. Before she knew what was happening, she’d completely lost her restraint and began to taste him.

The heat of her mouth and the contrast of the cool wetness of the shower somehow made everything feel even better. Even though he’d come hard in her mouth he was far from satisfied. Especially as she stared up at him with lusty eyes, her beautiful naked body covered in sparkling water drops.

They quickly got dressed before he brought her along to the dining hall.

Already inside was a man waiting for them. He wore clothes as intricate and expensive looking as Ares’. Not only that, but he was equally as gorgeous too. It was Raya’s first time seeing anyone within his realm… So all Gods were this beautiful?

“What are you doing here?” Ares said, without even trying to hide his annoyance.

Poseidon chuckled, his voice far sweeter and softer than she’d expected. His smile too was dazzlingly bright, “you never change. How delightful!” He paused, eyes stopping on Raya. “My, what an absolute beauty you are… Please tell me you’re not already betrothed…” he said, rushing over and taking her hand in his.

She squeaked out of sheer shock and panic before looking frantically over at Ares. “I...Um...I… b-belong to M-Master Ares…”

Poseidon tilted his head, his eyes glowing a gold color for a moment, “a tribute, huh? What a shame… Say Ares why don’t you switch with me? I have multiple you could pick from, you know.”

Now at a new level of rage Ares stomped furiously between them, “even so much as think about touching her and I’ll kill you in that very moment. It’ll be easy, like gutting a fish.” The burning flames in his eyes told Poseidon he was absolutely not kidding in the slightest.

Poseidon of course could have anticipated as much and found it funny which only further aggravated the God of War.

“Anyways, hurry and tell me why the hell you're here. I don’t have all day to chat.” Ares said irritatedly.

“No you certainly don’t. Seems you’ve been keeping plenty busy conquering and battling away.” Poseidon said.

“Ah, so the truth comes out. Are you worried or something?” He smirked.

“Actually...I want a cut of land.”

“Are you out of your mind?! The gall to even ask such a thing!” Ares glared.

“I’m prepared to give you fair payment in return. On top of being your ally, I have information as well.”

“What kind of information?”

“I heard Hades has been up to something.” Poseidon said with a smirk.

“Hades?” Ares asked, admittedly intrigued. After all, their last encounter had been a bloody one and in the year since he’d heard and seen no trace of the King of the Underworld.

“He’s been putting together quite the army as of late… makes you wonder what he’s planning to do with them…” Poseidon said.

“As if I’m worried about him. I’ll kill him and any army he tries to send near my land. As for you, I’m not giving you shit.”

“What?! But I gave you information!”

“That’s your fault for divulging before we made a deal. Besides, your information is worthless to me. I’m not giving away my land for free.” Ares said firmly. “If you come up with something actually useful I’ll consider it.”

“Damn you! You’ll regret this Ares.” Poseidon growled before snapping and disappearing into thin air.

Not the least bit bothered, Ares dragged Raya back to his room.

“Um master…do you think…?”

He glanced at her for a second, “don’t tell me you think I should be worried about a lame ass old timer like Hades?”

“Well…no but…he is…the God of that awful place so…I just…hope you’ll…be safe…”

“Of course I will.” He said, growing calm as he saw the sincere worry on her face. “I have something to live for now.” He said softly, taking her hand and placing a soft kiss on it. He meant it too, he had no intention of letting anyone interfere. So once the day ended he began to strategize.

Firstly seeing as Hades was indeed gathering an army, Ares decided to go on the defensive as well. He reached out to allies among his borders to minimize any threat.

In order to finalize the deal between them, he decided to host the other Gods at his castle to solidify their new alliance.

As usual many of the Gods brought their tributes along with them.

In respect towards their Gods, they lined up standing in lavish clothing on display as trophies to their Masters. This was significant mainly because it was done entirely through the will of the tribute. In fact, it was a huge source of pride among the Tributes to garner attention and praise on behalf of their master.

Ares typically did not host many events or attend many in other lands, preferring real adventures to the trifles of glamour and social pretenses. He also had quite a large number of enemies and a general dislike of snobby events. Therefore, it was Raya’s first time since becoming his tribute to participate in a line up. While she was well aware that people of this land generally weren’t fond of her foreign features she hoped with enough effort she could still be a source of attention and admiration to Ares. To do so, she’d decided to make a dress that embodied many of the traditional elements of the clothes of her native tribe.

She did her best to stand proudly despite being in a line of unbelievably beautiful men and women who quite frankly looked like Gods themselves.

Regardless, that did not stop the whispers and lingering eyes on Raya.

Though she was completely oblivious, as always her attention was on nothing else besides Ares. She watched as he moved through the crowd looking far more elegant and ethereal than any of the other Gods. His immaculate black uniform, red sash and many gold badges glistened as he moved. His long golden hair was styled to absolute perfection, his hands that she loved so were adorned with golden rings. She was absolutely hypnotized by the mere sight of him. He talked with a few of his closer allies but all she could do was stare hopelessly as a Goddess approached Ares. She was breathtakingly beautiful unlike anyone she’d ever seen. Her long beautiful hair moved all around her as she did, her large sparkling crown a reminder of the difference between her and the rest of the mere mortals. Nearly half the men in the room seemed to be watching her every move.

“Somehow I didn’t expect to see you here.” Ares said, with a sigh barely glancing in her direction as he sipped from his cup.

She smiled, “Well I was rather surprised when you decided to host such an event. Even more surprised at your new tribute…I had heard you finally got one… This decade’s model sure is something....” She said, making a twisted expression as she glanced over at her before laughing snidely.

“Had no idea you were so interested in my tributes.” Ares said coldly.

“Had no idea you cared so much for them.” She snapped back.

He sighed irritatedly as he turned to walk away, “alright that’s enough for me. See you again in another 100 years I’m sure, since that’s usually how long it takes for you to foolishly try to run back to me. But this time and all future times, I will not take you back or play your games.”

“You must really like her to get so worked up… I had only been teasing but clearly I hit a nerve. Had no idea that after all this time you’d actually take after one of your pets. I guess pure pedigree just isn’t your type.” She shrugged smugly, “some people only get their heartstrings pulled by pitiful mangy mutts. I bet you love being her master don’t you?” She said hatefully, glaring at him.

“You should talk. Have you ever had a tribute over 20 years old? Don’t you think it’s about time to ascend with the other Ancient Goddesses and retire? You’re the last one left, you know you’re starting to look a bit desperate.”

“Desperate?! How dare you!” She glared. “You were the one desperate for me or did you suddenly forget what started the two centuries of ‘games’?!”

“Tsk tsk… Must be hard not to have a real man around to make you feel the way a woman is supposed to...probably why you’re so envious. Also because she’s far more beautiful than you in every conceivable way. And, yes I do love being her master. I intend to continue being so for as many centuries as I can get. So don’t you fucking dare speak ill of her again in my presence and especially not in our home!” He said glaring at her without even slightly withholding his fury.

“Whatever...while you’re here getting all worked up defending her, she’s about to accept an offering from one of those creepy pervs. What a disgrace!” Aphrodite said with a malicious smirk before stomping off.

Wanting something to get her mind off of Ares and what she could only imagine was Aphrodite, she hadn’t thought twice about accepting a drink from the men who’d been giving some out to the tributes. She’d nearly finished the cup when she heard his unmistakable footsteps sounding closer and closer. He seemed to be moving with purpose judging by the intensity of his strides and his expression.

Moreover he was headed straight towards her. Her rosy cheeks showed that she’d been drinking. He’d been intending to let her know how angry he was but upon noticing her expression he changed his mind. He smirked watching her stare lustfully at him in the middle of the crowded room. “Do you know what kind of face you’re making right now?” He whispered in her ear as he pulled her close by the waist.

“D-Did I do something wrong, Master?”

“Not at all, I don’t mind at all if everyone here sees how hungry you are for me.”

Her face went brighter from his words, “s-sorry Master...I didn’t mean to stare at you...” she looked down shyly.

“Let’s go. I’ll give you what you want.” He smirked, taking her hand as he led her out.

As he opened what looked like a closet door, he pushed her inside before locking it behind him. She gasped as she stared out of a huge window into the ballroom. “Isn’t this...where that giant mirror is?”

“Good eye. Yes, it’s a two way mirror. Allows me to get some intel from behind the scenes if need be.” Ares said. “But I have other intentions for it’s usage tonight. You will help me test it out, won’t you?”

“Y-Yes of course Master! Anything you wish!”

While she was as obedient as ever, he could still see traces of her intoxication. He smiled, “then go on and put your hands on the glass.”

She did as asked, her heart racing.

“You’re trembling, you know… What’s the matter, Raya?” He taunted in her ear. His breath tickled her ear and while she could sense him just behind her, he was far enough to not be touching her. Still the small gap between them was like sparks against her skin as she anxiously anticipated his touch. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid after all this time?”

“N-no Master, I would never be afraid of you! I...j-just...w-want to be touched…”

He smirked, “if you’re so eager for me to touch you in front of all these people, I'm happy to oblige you.”

She swallowed hard seeing his reflection in the glass in front of her. His hands now reached around, moving across her body as his lips settled onto her neck and shoulder.

His hands had made their way beneath her dress, and roamed freely across her warm skin.

He licked her nape as his fingers slipped between her legs causing her to tremble against the glass. His fingers slid in and out, only further deepening her insatiable desire for more. Her legs buckled beneath her as she was losing her ability to keep quiet.

Having reached his own limit, he quickly aligned himself with her entrance before slowly pushing inside. Now nearly completely pressed against the glass, she panted as her body tried to adjust to him.

His hands on her hips were tight and only a moment later he slammed into her with no intention of slowing down.

Even though she knew the people on the other side of the glass couldn’t see her, it still felt very much like they could.

“You’re squeezing me even tighter than usual...perhaps you’re enjoying being on display… Does it excite you? Hmm take a look…”

Two women walked up to the mirror standing just on the other side of the glass. They stared into the mirror touching up their hair and lipstick.

Ares didn’t stop at all, instead slamming harder into her. Raya covered her mouth quickly to stifle her moans but he quickly removed them and held her wrists tightly.

“I’m still waiting on an answer.” Ares said deeply.

“I-It excites me whenever, Master touches me…” she said through her moms and heavy panting.

“You’re making a more lewd face than usual though…” he said, wanting to entice more dirty words from her.

She moaned as he pulled her arms behind her back holding them in his hand while he nipped at the nape of her neck, pounding into her from behind. Her legs trembled, buckling from the surge of pleasure from all the stimulation. “If you don’t calm down you’ll fall over soon.” He teased in her ear, purposely thrusting harder till she cried out loudly cumming.

“I-It’s...b-because...M-Master is touching me like this… There were so many beautiful women staring at you all night…” She said still panting as she stared up at him dreamily through lidded eyes.

He definitely hadn’t been expecting such sincere words. A strange feeling overcame him and before he knew it he’d turned her to face him. He crashed his lips against hers needily, before pressing her back against the glass and lifting her up, once again sliding inside.

She wrapped her arms and legs around him tightly to help her stay up as Ares jackhammered nonstop into her. He helped himself to her lips, neck and chest as he rammed so deep inside her that she was seeing stars. Thankfully his unbelievably soft lips and warm tongue muffled her noises. When the kiss broke she noticed his gold glowing eyes. They had also glowed like this on their first night together but she had no clue why.

Catching a glimpse at his own reflection, he was slightly taken aback by the awakening of his power. Even so, the still blazing desire was unstoppable. His body was moving on it’s own at this point. He’d lost count of how many times she’d come, but he was sure this was at least his third time filling her up.

By the time he could think straight again, Raya was minutes away from falling asleep. The party had ended and after pulling her up into his arms, he carried her off to bed.

Raya awoke in what seemed to be...a meadow? She rubbed her eyes sleepily and stood up, looking around. As she walked through she found a path which led her to a garden. After a moment she recognized the garden.

Suddenly she could hear the crunch and rustling of leaves and branches. Before she could decide what to do, Ares emerged from the tall dense brush.

Immediately her heart raced and she quickly dropped to her knees, bowing before him.

His heavy metal plated boots even seemed to make noise in the dirt. He stepped forward towards her, intrigued by the young foreign girl.

“You’re the new disciple aren’t you?” He asked somewhat intrigued.

“Y-Yes, my Lord. I am called Raya, please forgive my rudeness. It...seems I became lost…” she bowed.

“On the contrary...these are sacred grounds. This forest and garden do not allow anyone inside unless they want the person inside.” Ares said before softly smiling down at her. “So, it seems you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.”

“M-Me…? I’m sorry but I don’t understand...I am nothing more than a humble servant. Surely, a nobody like me has no business in such a place…”

“A nobody? I’m not so sure.” Ares said. “If that were the case you wouldn’t have been able to become a disciple. In fact you're the first contracted disciple of mine in quite some decades… certainly no easy feat seeing as hundreds have tried and failed to do so.”

“I am honored by your words, my Lord. But I simply wished with all my being, to be able to serve you. That is the only thing I wish to do in this life.”

“The only thing?” He raised a brow.

“I have no family, friends, or home to return to. If not for you I would have died many years ago. Thus I could think of no greater honor than to serve the man who saved me.”

As she said it, the image played in his mind. After so many countless centuries of war and battle they all blended together. But now as he stared down at her, he could clearly remember her. She was just a child back then, all the way in the middle of the blue sparkling ocean on a tiny lush island. Her skin was bronze and radiant now as it had been then, a mark of all her people. “I remember you.” A slight smile played on his lips. “You were crying so much then…I’m glad to see you healthy and smiling now.”

“I...had never seen such a beautiful person before..” she said nervously looking down at her feet shyly.

Shocked was a colossal understatement, he had no idea that was why she’d been crying. “You…”

The surprises didn't stop there. With each encounter which felt quite few and far between, she blew him away.

Most shocking of all was just three days before the tribute selection ceremony. He’d gone off into yet another battle, this time one started by a neighboring land. After days on end of battle they began sending reinforcements.

Ares was exhausted beyond belief having single handedly carried this battle on his back for four days.

As he heard the sounds of running horses he knew he was saved, but not for even a moment did he consider…

“Wipe that smile off your face Ares, your men might have come for you but I’ll make sure they take your body back cold.” The enemy General, Hades, shouted before charging at him with his sword out.

His body was heavy and tattered from battle making it hard for him to even stand. Still, he was no quitter. Just as he managed to get up into his feet something red blurred in front of him. By the time he blinked it was no longer moving as quickly, thus he was able to see clearly.

A red cape blew in the wind as did beautiful hair that he’d recognize anywhere. As Hades charged forward atop his horse with his armor and sword shining, she drew her own sword and charged toward him without fear or hesitation.

The sound of their clashing swords was only comparable to Zeus’ lightning bolts.

“Go back to hell!” She shouted angrily. “Never ever will you touch him. You’ll have to kill me first!”

Distracted by the gruesome expression on her face, he hesitated. Somehow in that moment she was more frightening than even the most deadly of Gods. She managed to get the upper hand and strike him, taking advantage of his distraction. She rushed back to Ares as Hades lay on the ground clutching his bleeding chest and arm.

“Forgive me for stepping in front of you. Please use my energy to heal yourself.” Raya said.

“You...are you crazy? I could end up killing you. I’m in too weak of a state.” Ares said in shock.

“That’s fine!” She said, taking his hands. “Please let me be of use to you.”

He was completely baffled. No one had ever gone so far for him. Not his generals, soldiers or servants.

“Please, he’ll wake up any moment!” Raya said desperately.

Seeing him stir, Ares heeded her words. She fell instantly unconscious as his hands sucked the energy out of her body. Her soul was warm and sweet and healed him in a matter of seconds.

Hades was both shocked and furious to see Ares back in top shape. Fulfilling his terrors, Ares smiled menacingly as he ran towards him swinging his enormous blade.

Had it not been for Raya, a mere disciple, sneaking into the soldier line up disguised as a man and sacrificing herself in such a way. They would surely have lost.

When the battle was finally over Ares and the remaining soldiers scoured the massive battle grounds in search of survivors. Ares looked around the battlefield frantically, looking for Raya but couldn’t find her.

“My Lord!” A soldier shouted. “There’s...a woman?!”

He raced over, instantly dropping to the ground and sighing in relief upon seeing her. He pulled her up into his arms, thankfully he could feel her pulse still beating.

“Shall we have her punished?”

“Punished?! This woman is the reason we are all alive right now! She is a stronger and braver person than anyone in this field and a damned hero!” Ares said angrily, holding her in his arms before taking off atop his horse with her.

Feeling a warmth tickling her face, Raya suddenly woke up. She jolted up in bed, realizing she was in Ares’ bed.

“Are you alright?” He asked confusedly.

She instantly felt relieved, seeing his beautiful face beneath the glow of the morning sun. “Mhm...it was just a dream..”

“A dream?” He asked.

“Yeah…some memories from when we first met…” she said with a warm dreamy smile. He decided not to say anything since she looked so happy, but he was very alarmed that they’d seemingly shared the same memory while sleeping.

As if that wasn’t enough for his brain to add to the ever growing list of concerns as of late, it only continued on. Just as he and his soldiers were leaving another tactical strategy meeting his guards came running over.

“My Lord! There’s an emergency! It’s the Sacred tree in the forest, it’s gone withered!” They cried out in sheer panic.

“What?!” Ares ran towards the forest to see for himself what on Earth was going on.

Completely out of breath now that they’d run there, they stood on a nearby bridge and Ares tried to get a better look. He froze for a moment, doing a double take as he noticed something.

“Is that…Lady Raya?!” One of the guards asked.

They all watched in shock and awe as she walked up to the sacred tree. Ares could see her glistening tears blow off her face in the wind as she reached out and placed her hands on the enormous tree trunk.

After a moment, her markings began to glow a golden color which spread onto the tree, engulfing it from bottom to top. The trunk and branches seemed less dried out and brittle and suddenly the barren branches sprouted beautiful flowers. As one fell and landed atop her head in the commotion, she stared at it with a smile more radiant than anything he’d ever seen.

“T-That’s….”

“T-There’s no way…”

“That’s…impossible… Right?”

“That's….the Sacred tree. How could she...fix it….so easily?” The soldiers were completely dumbfounded by what they’d just witnessed her do. It completely defied everything they knew to be true.

Ares couldn't stop himself for another second and rushed across the bridge towards Raya.

Everyone followed after him eagerly.

He pulled her up into his arms so quickly she had no idea what came over her. “Master?!?!” He didn’t answer her, instantly taking her lips desperately pulling her close as possible. It was only after he’d left her breathless and panting for air that they remembered the soldiers surrounding them. All of whom were shocked by what they’d just seen but trying to give them some semblance of privacy.

“You...you fixed the Sacred tree….” Ares said staring her in the eyes.

“I...I don’t know how...I couldn’t possibly have been the reason it…right?”

“Don’t worry, it’s all alright. You’re amazing it so it makes perfect sense. Thank you for restoring the sacred pillar of my temple it means so much to me and to see it like this...I never thought it’d bloom again.” He said with a warm smile unlike any she’d seen.

“A-Anything for you Master.” She said, still completely confused by what was happening.

“Thank you.” He said into her ear, pulling her tighter into his chest. Before she could even process his words, her body reacting faster than her mind, he pulled back. He stared into her eyes holding her shoulders, “wait for me tonight, I have a lot I’d like to talk to you about.”

“Y-Yes, Master.”

With one last lingering stare his eyes raced to trace every feature once more, his hand on her face and thumb touching her lips as he carved them into his brain. His chest heaved with one more heavy breath before he agonizingly tore himself away.

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

More developments and Gods to come and some will look awfully familiar ;)

Hope you enjoyed 💜 Chapter 3 coming soon~

#hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #stray kids #stray kids smut #hyunjin smut #hyunjin au

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txemrn · 3 years

Text

The Missionary's Daughter

Ch. 1: "Meant to Live"

Need to catch up? Prologue: "It's Over"

Chapter Song Inspo: "Meant to Live" by Switchfoot

Series Song Inspo: "Changed by You" by Between the Trees

Pairings: Drake Walker x OC (Margot Hughes); Liam Rys x Riley Brooks

Series Warning: 🛑 for mature audiences only (🔞); series contains angst, language, NSFW🍋 material; trigger warning: heavy discussion/depiction of drug and alcohol abuse, suicide, religion, mental health; please be advised and exercise discretion

A/N: When I say that this took a village, it would be the understatement of the century! Huuuuuuuuge thank you to all of my amazing sweet writing sisters that encouraged me and helped me pull this together, but especially to @charlotteg234 for brainstorming and mapping this out with me, @kat-tia801 for doing the same, but then having to deal with me incessantly asking, "Does this sound right?" and @chemist-ana FOR GIFITNG ME MY FREAKING AMAZING MOODBOARD! It's SO beautiful, and it literally puts me in the mood to write about my Druggy Drake and Margot! Thank you so, so much, friend! Most of the characters and some of the plot belong to our friends at Pixelberry.

A palpable crackle ignites the sterile air of the staff locker room. To say she was ‘nervous’ is a painfully severe understatement to the jitters that spark from her fingertips. But, rather than dance chaotically like cut wires on pavement, she is lightning, mesmerizing, lighting up the sky with excitement and power.

***

Dressing for another Monday morning at her weekly volunteer job at the prestigious Cordonia Family OB/GYN, Margot Hughes swiftly shimmies a monogrammed ceil blue scrub top down her curves. Pulling her brilliant strands of autumn harvest into a high bun, she slips on her work clogs while nudging her locker closed with her knee.

Before leaving the changing area, she catches her visage in the mirror, the unflattering fluorescent lights casting more shadows onto her worried features. She can feel the rumble of her rapid heartbeat echoing in her ears; her chest constricts tightly as her breathing becomes shallow. Her eyes begin to sting with fear as the whites burn red, threatening with a glaze of tears.

Today is the day her entire life will change; everything she has ever wanted, everything that she has ever worked for will suddenly determine the course of her future in a single moment. Seeing the all-too-familiar terror in her eyes, Margot flutters her eyelids shut. Her fingers nervously trace along a simple chain around her neck until they finally grasp tightly to a dainty sterling silver charm: a cross.

“Take my anxieties, Lord,” she whispers with prayerful conviction, her sparkling blue eyes gracefully opening to look at her necklace. She exhales deeply. “Your will be done.” Margot stares at her reflection for a few more moments, focusing on her breathing to calm her restless heart. “You are strong, Margot. You've got this,” she affirms herself in a hushed tone, a bright smile breaking across her face. “This is your day--" suddenly overwhelmed with peace, a joyous smile paints across her face. Chuckling to herself, she glances upwards: “I'm counting on You.” Taking a deep cleansing breath, she eagerly exits the stillness of her thoughts, and joins the bustle of the morning's clinic appointments. Today is her day.

***

Halos of blurred auras bleach his vision as Drake cautiously opens one blood-shot eye. His tongue sticks to the roof of his roughly parched mouth as he massages his pained forehead. Clueless of what day it is--much less what he did last night--he is greeted with a sudden glorious sensation: a supple wet mouth on his hardened morning length.

His body relaxes back onto the dampened, disheveled sheets of his bed; he releases a pleasurable exhale as he blindly reaches for the head behind the lips. He strains to focus his view, but can only make out a foggy shape of a nude woman with long, tousled brunette waves.

It’s her. His love.

Drake smiles; delicately tangling his grip in her strands, he admires how even the afternoon sun catches her beauty perfectly. He quietly smacks his lips. He can still smell her on his stubble; he can still taste her on his tongue.

Had she told Liam? Were they celebrating that they could finally be together?

As she takes in the head of his girth, he arches his back, relaxing his body into her hungry touch. Closing his eyes, he offers a guttural groan deep in his chest as she swirls her tongue around his firm thickness.

“God, you’re incredible, Riley--”

---

Pulling out a pen, Margot reaches across the counter to grab a patient’s clipboard--that is until Iris, the front desk manager grips her long, manicured nails to the other side of the particle wood. “Miss Mary-Margaret,” she leans in conspiratorially, lowering her voice, “do we know anything yet?” Margot chuckles, shaking her head. “Child, you better come find me the moment you know!”

“Only if you promise to start calling me ‘Margot’” the young blonde jests, opening her client’s chart.

“How about I start calling you what we’ll all be calling you in just a few short years: ‘doctor’?” Rosy pink swirls splash across Margot’s face, warming her cheeks to the touch. She bows her head coyly at the mention of her dream becoming a reality. The thought that she will soon find out if a medical career is in her future makes the twenty-one-year-old’s heart leap with unbridled excitement.

For as long as she can remember, Margot has had a strong desire to serve and help other people. Much of that selfless attitude was instilled into her heart by her own parents. They were called to be Christian missionaries when Margot was only eight years old. After much planning, church fund-raising, and prayer, Roy and Mary Hughes left their comfortable home of Lafayette, Louisiana, and settled in the small Mediterranean country of Cordonia.

Many of their friends and family were shocked that the church would send them to such a beautiful area of the world. Typically missionaries humble themselves to serve the needy, the homeless, the lonely and the sick. They sacrifice the luxuries of home for the sake of loving humanity. They help people in war-torn countries, third-world countries, countries that don’t have electricity or running water. But, this country?

Cordonia itself is a lavish nation, rich in heritage and traditions. And funds. Thanks to the ideal weather conditions, the fruitful soil produces bountiful harvests and exquisite supplies for fine textiles that remain in high demand throughout the world. The Cordonian government, a monarchy, discovered a new opportunity to expand their wealth in the late 19th century: costly tariffs to international investors. Within the first ten years of increasing the taxes on exports, the national treasury was not only in the black, but their funds had exponentially increased every year. Farms were flourishing as the working class became larger, stronger.

But, the treasury began to dwindle quickly due to the extravagant demands of the royals. For the first time in the country's history, commoners were wealthier than some of the nobility. Disdain from the upper class quickly ensued until finally, in the early 20th century under the rule of William I, a new tax law was implemented to all of Cordonia: anyone involved with international exchange would have to pay into the treasury to handle such business.

Unfortunately, there were no limitations to this new tax law, and many farms floundered, property ownership being seized by the government. Families were uprooted; jobs were lost, and worse, assets were sold for even more money, filling the pockets of the greedy leaders. The people that once had a plethora of goods at their fingertips were now starving and unsheltered. And vengeful. The Cordonians were outraged by the gouging, many of them forming violent riots, banding together with outside influencers in hopes of overthrowing the government.

On the cusp of a civil war, King William I decided to rezone the country, providing a place for the displaced working class to claim safety and sanctuary, a place that would offer shelter, education, and more affordable options for goods. To appease the people even more, he named the project ‘the Core,’ paying homage to their greatest export, the Cordonian Ruby. It was also a way for him to forever express his gratitude for such a fruitful nation: they were the core reason the nation was thriving so richly.

Like many government-assisted programs, it didn’t take long for the cracks to show in the infrastructure. And with funding cuts over the years, the Core began to crumble, striking a sharp contrast from the rest of Cordonia. The Core, now often referred to as ‘the slums’, have become a breeding ground for crime, drugs, and prostitution. It is the blemish of Cordonia, its existence often not acknowledged amongst the elite.

But, according to the Hughes, ‘God saw the need’. They were sent to serve in the slums of Cordonia, starting up several free programs, including a nightly soup kitchen, afterschool programs to keep children out of trouble, and trade classes to help adults out of poverty. The people accepted the help and adapted quickly to the missionaries; but even more importantly, they embraced these Americans as their own, many of them forming important and lasting relationships with the Hughes.

But, still there was something missing, something that burdened the missionary’s oldest daughter: healthcare. Having good health and access to a doctor is still treated as a privilege in Cordonia, and time and time again, the curable were disabled or buried. A change needed to take place. And Margot, although unsure of how, knew she would devote her life in making it happen for the Cordonian people.

As she makes a few notes on her clipboard, an olive-complected arm stealthily reaches around Margot, gracefully grazing her sun-kissed skin before gently placing a cup of piping hot black coffee in front of her. Staring at the hand, she instantly knows who it is. And she titters, playfully rolling her eyes. “Tadd! Another coffee?” She grabs the coffee, twirling on the ball of her foot to face the clinic’s young ultrasound technician. "My tab must be over a hundred euros by now!"

"Oh, don't you worry about that," he chuckles, rocking on his feet. “Plus, I figured with your new gig at Bríki--” he jovially shrugs his shoulders.

“You figured what?” Margot playfully punches his shoulder. “That I could sneak you free coffee?” She gives a mischievous smile, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t think Mr. Pavlis would appreciate me offering free drinks, especially since I haven’t even started yet--”

“That’s right!” Tadd eyes widen. “Today’s the day--!”

“As if I didn’t already have enough to be nervous about today,” Margot’s voice becomes shaky, as she clenches her teeth in a forced smile.

“Hey,” Tadd’s voice turns into an endearing whisper. He shifts his head until his piercing jade eyes meet Margot’s baby blues. “You have nothing to worry about. We both know you did well on that American doctor test--"

"The MCAT," Margot stifles a laugh, rolling her eyes into an appreciative grin.

"Whatever," a crooked smile grows across Tadd's handsome features. "And as far as the coffee shop, you're a fast learner. And a hard worker. Plus, if they see what we all see in you--" he sighs, his gaze never breaking free from hers, "-- they're going to love you."

Margot looks down at her feet, hugging her clipboard tightly to her chest. Feeling her palms begin to sweat, she coyly looks back up at her dear friend. "Thanks, Tadd."

After a few silent moments of staring at each other, Tadd clears his throat. "So, um--" he starts, "have you heard anything yet? About the test?" Tadd changes the subject. Margot shakes her head as she takes a pull from her coffee. "Well, when you do, um, maybe we could, I mean, I thought we could--"

Suddenly an intercom buzzes overhead. "Thaddeus to exam room four. Thaddeus to exam room four."

Tadd furrows his eyebrows, looking to the ceiling before resting a kind half-smile back on Margot. "Duty calls," he nervously sighs as he bounds down the hallway. Halfway down the corridor, he spins around to face Margot. "Hey, um, come find me! Before you leave at noon!" He finger-guns the air before returning to his pursuit.

Margot awkwardly finger-guns him back before smacking her forehead with the palm of her hand. "Seriously, Margot?" she mutters to herself, turning her attention back to the central desk of the clinic; however, she realizes quickly that the attention is all on her.

"When are you two going to make it official, Miss Mary-Margaret?" Iris chokes in the midst of her belly laughs, nodding with other scrub-adorned coworkers.

Biting her bottom lip feeling her heart flutter, Margot straightens out her demeanor, becoming stoic. "I--I don't know what you're talking about--"

"Margot, isn't it obvious?" Chimes in a jolly intake nurse. "That boy loves you--!"

"Who? Tadd?" Margot feigns innocence. She fixes her attention to the chart as she scribbles down more notes. "It's not like that--I mean, we're not, um--" she sighs. "We're just friends--" An instant roar of laughter abrupts from the reception desk, making it impossible for Margot to hide her toothy-smile paired with her scrunched up nose.

"You say that now, baby girl--"

"That's right," chimes in another giggling co-worker, "friends for now!"

An older plump nurse places a tender hand on Margot’s hand, a knowing smile spreading across her face. "Some of the best relationships come from friendships, moró. Give it time. Let the love grow," she winks at Margot.

Margot fidgets with her pen, delicately licking her bottom lip. She then tries to form words with her mouth, but no sound is heard. Her pink cheeks reveal she is flustered. She quickly closes up the chart, pushing loose hairs behind her ear. "Have a good day, ladies."

Hearing the squeals of her coworkers diminishing behind her, Margot quickly escapes into an empty exam room. Closing the door behind her, she leans against it, looking up at the textured ceiling tiles. She can feel the butterflies in her stomach bouncing through to her heart as her legs wiggle with weakness like gelatin.

The idea of 'falling in love' excites Margot, an idea she has dreamed about ever since she saw Baby meet Johnny. But, so far in her young life, she has never experienced it first hand, let alone a romantic hand- hold. Was this love? All she knew for sure was today was not the day to figure it out.

***

As soon as Riley’s name escapes his breathless moans of ecstasy, a searing sharp pain instantly ignites around his hardened girth. And Drake sees red.

"Fuck!" He lets out a guttural roar until no sound comes out of his mouth. He gnashes his teeth, trying to breathe through the agony, but only froths at the corners of his lips. The veins in his neck and his forehead protrude violently as streams of tears roll down his face. Petrified to move, his face turns a deep ruddy color. Before turning violet.

A sudden sensation of relief washes over him as the stabbing sensation fades to throbbing. Drake nervously looks down at his softening cock, relieved to see his member in one piece. "Goddamnit, Brooks," he pants furiously, "you fucking bit me--"

The brunette quickly tosses her curls out of her eyesight right before her fist meets Drake's jaw. "Oh, shit!" The cracking of the joints in his face echoes around the room. Drake starts to gently massage his chin. "You're not Riley--"

She climbs off of his body, standing her naked body in front of him. "No shit, Sherlock!" She slinks her short black spaghetti-strap dress over her dangerous curves before hastily grabbing her clear platform heels and racing out the door. "Fuck you, Drake Walker!"

***

A heartless, cocky laugh pours over the phone speaker. "Shit, Walker. Just--" the baritone voice trails back into a fit of laughter.

"It's not funny, Leo--" Drake warns, accidentally shifting his weight in bed, stirring a soreness to his recent injuries. "Ow!” he sucks air quickly between his gritted teeth, “fuck!" he whimpers to himself, adjusting the cold packs on his genitals.

"But you actually called her a different name, bro. A different name! With her mouth on your salami, your pocket rocket, on your--on your anaconda--" Leo's words fade back into cackles.

"As if you remember every goddamn hook-up’s name--"

"Dude," Leo interrupts, "if she's going to go all hungry, hungry hippo mid-blowie, I'm going to remember her name."

Drake scoffs. "Bullshit--"

"What? I'm serious, bro" Leo's voice becomes sincere. "All of these bitches we meet are looking for one thing--" he pauses dramatically for his wounded friend to finish his sentence; but the silence proves Drake is clueless as to where Leo was going with this. "A connection, Walker!" Leo's voice drips with conviction. "These women don't want to feel like they're disposable, even though--" he chuckles to himself, “let’s be honest: we’re doing them a favor--”

"--’A connection’, Leo" Drake interrupts, urging the conversation back on track.

"Right! ‘A connection," reaffirms Leo, circling back to his point. "Now, okay,” he knowingly titters, “I can’t remember all of these names--”

“Ha! See?” Drake barks.

“--Which is why--” Leo enunciates over Drake, “I use a single pet name. ‘Girl’.”

"'Girl'? That’s your trick? You call them 'girl'?" Drake raises an eyebrow in disbelief.

“Hear me out,” Leo continues. “If you call them something like ‘baby’ or ‘sweetie’, it can be seen as patronizing, that you’re clearly looking to smooth-talk your way into their pants--” Drake rolls his eyes, moving the phone to his other ear “--but now, calling them ‘girl’, I’m showing I want to be a friend, that I just simply want to connect. And then when you’re having your way with her, call her whatever the fuck you want as long as you finish the name with ‘girl’. Good girl. Dirty girl. Naughty girl. Sweet girl. Or in your case, hungry girl--”

Drake clears his throat, stifling a laugh. “--That is the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard--”

“Hey!” Leo interjects. “Who is wearing a bag of frozen peas on his one-eyed trouser snake?”

“Touché,” Drake sighs. “So, where are you right now?”

“With Jason up at his shop.”

“Who?” Drake lets out yawn, looking at his bedside alarm clock.

“Shit, Walker, you really were fucked up last night," Leo sighs. "Jason. You met him last night.” Leo’s voice lowers into a whisper. “He helped you get fucked up last night.”

“Oh! Right, right,” Drake rubs his head, “that was--wow, that shit was--”

“Good, right?” Leo finishes. “Hey, come join us at his shop. We’ve got coffee, and he’s got some new, um, product he’d love to show you--”

“Oh, Leo, I don’t know--” Drake removes the melting bag of vegetables from his lap. Gently lifting up on the waistband of his boxers, carefully inspecting his bruised parts.

“Does Liam have you working today?”

“No, no, it’s not that--” Drake hesitates.

“Oh!” Leo knowingly exclaims. “Does Riley have you working today?” He begins to chuckle. “You might need to let her know that you’re currently indisposed for --”

“Leo--” Drake warns.

“Then what's the hold up?"

Drake glances over at the mirror affixed to his antique dresser, but he doesn't recognize his own reflection. There's an emptiness in eyes, an inexplicable turmoil overcoming the man he once was. How did everything get so complicated? How did he get to such a place that it's better to be absent in life than to live it?

She was just a friend--at least that's what he convinced himself when Riley Brooks first caught his eye. Beautiful. Extremely witty with a fight he had never seen before. When they first kissed, he swore it was a mistake. Hormones. It had been so long since he had touched the delicate petals of a woman's lips.

But, this wasn't just any woman. It was her. And he soon would find himself wrapped up in her bedsheets, wrapped around her finger, wrapped in an awful web of lies.

And, all of his transgressions were against him, his very best friend, the man he regards as closer than a brother, his closest ally and confidant. Normally, Drake would turn to Liam in a heartbeat with any troubles, but this? How could he? How could he talk to Liam about his own devastation when the truth would devastate Liam?

It's been four days since that fateful night of Liam's coronation, four days since the love of Drake's life walked away from him, forcing his hand into harboring secrets from the crowned prince. It's been four days since Drake heard his own voice in his head, four days since he's been sober enough to even think. Even though he deemed the temporary escape necessary, the sudden twinge of discomfort in his groin makes him realize that taking another hit right now is the absolute last thing he needs.

"I think I better stay put," Drake answers, combing his fingers through his disheveled tresses.

"Suit yourself," Leo jovially retorts. "If you need any oxy for your boo-boo, hit me up--Oh, and Drake?"

“Hrmmm?”

"Her name is Whitney."

"What?"

"Jaws? You know, the bitch who chewed on your Moby Dick?" Drake sighs heavily, regretting that he ever told Leo what had happened. "Her name is Whitney."

Drake furrows his eyebrows. "Now, how do you remember her name--?"

"Oh, bro, you don't forget WAP Whitney--oh shit, you probably haven't gotten a good look at your sheets this morning, have you?"

With a grunt, Drake ends the call. “Fuck me,” he mutters under his breath. He carefully gets up, waddling to grab his clothes before heading to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

In the middle of splashing his face with cold, soapy water, Drake's phone rings. Grabbing a hand towel he carefully saunters back to his room, answering the call without hesitation. "Just let it go, Leo--”

"Drake?"

An icy chill shoots down Drake’s spine, freezing him in his steps. He knows that melodic voice anywhere, a voice that reminds him of early morning sunrises and late night silver moonlit paths. “H-hey, Riley,” he stutters, caught off guard. A brief awkward stillness falls over the conversation. “How are you--?”

“I miss you, Drake,” she interrupts.

Drake’s vision suddenly begins to spin as the air in the room becomes stagnant. Stiffening his bottom lip in anger, his breathing quickens as he reaches out carefully to brace himself against the wall.

“Drake?”

“I’m here,” he chokes out. “What do you want, Brooks?” He can hear the tears in her voice, but he wills himself not to care, he wills himself to not even ask.

“Drake, I think I made a mistake--”

“No,” Drake barks out, “no, you can’t do this to me--”

“Drake, please,” Riley sobs, “I’m on my way to the doctor--”

“The doctor?” Drake’s tone suddenly changes. “Are you okay? Is everything with--um, you know--” he slaps his forehead with the palm of his hand, “--okay?”

“Yes--” she sniffles, “--no. I just, I can’t do this alone, Drake. I can’t do this--”

“Riley--” he roughly says her name to grab her attention, “you made your decision: you chose Liam. You want to raise our baby--my baby with him--”

“Don’t you think I want to have this baby with you? That’s all I can even think about Drake,” she takes a moment to calm down her shaking voice. “I love you, Drake. I want a life with you. I want you to be there when this baby is born, when this baby needs his or her father--when this baby needs you--”

“Riley--” Drake exhales with frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose, “--but Liam--”

“I know, Drake. I know--” Riley takes a deep breath, “Can we just talk? In person? Just so we can figure this out? I can come over there--”

“Brooks, I--” Drake stumbles over his words as he runs his fingers over his coarse, overgrown stubble. Of course, he wants her to come over. And to stay. But, has anything changed? Liam just proposed, and she made it clear what her intentions were. But, still, it’s possible she had a change of heart, and this was a second chance he may never get again. He sighs heavily. “Sure. Okay."

After finishing his impromptu conversation with Riley, Drake realizes he needs to make another phone call. He scrolls through his call history, and clicks the green send button.

"Did you change your mind, Evander Holyfield?"

"Funny, Leo," Drake sarcastically responds. "So, yeah, um, what's the address to the shop?"

***

“Does that--does that say what I think it says?” Margot nervously stammers. "I think I saw my score--oh gosh!"

“Here. Let me look--”

Margot quickly covers the computer screen with her hands, "No, Mrs. Iris!” Margot squeals. “I’m not ready--I’m not ready for this!”

“Child, you have been ready for this for months. Now, if you don’t get your hands out of the way--"

"What's with all the commotion?" A few technicians and nurses pile into the room, each giving an endearing rub to Margot’s back. Everyone begins craning their necks to see the computer, covered by Margot's arms. "Is it time? Have they posted the scores?"

"They sure have!" answers Iris before turning to Margot. She tucks several blonde wisps behind Margot’s ear before putting her finger under her chin. "C'mon, baby," she smiles encouragingly, "it's more fun celebrating than worrying."

"I'm--" Margot takes a deep breath, biting back her tears, "--I'm so scared--"

"--and the Lord knew you would be, baby." Iris wrinkles her nose at Margot, her voice becoming stronger. "That's why He called you to be courageous. C'mon."

Margot bites her lip, slowly nodding her head. Feeling the storm brew in her eyes as the weight of the world sits on her chest, she carefully peels back her hands. Her eyes scale the black and white on the screen, but nothing seems to make sense. A burst of silence overwhelms her hearing, time standing perfectly still. Her only company is the beating of her heart.

Take my anxieties...

You have nothing to worry about…

Your will be done…

Be courageous...

Like suddenly breaking through the surface for air, an abrupt roar of cheers fill the room, shaking Margot from her trance. "Our baby girl got a 519!" screams a tearful Iris, pulling Margot from her seat and into a tight embrace. Other coworkers join in, creating a giant group hug.

Margot remains speechless, shocked by her score. She always knew she was an excellent student, studying hard all through school and excelling in her classes. When it came to the MCAT, she was confident she would score better than average, a score of 500. But, to even be noticed by top medical schools, she needed to score in the top 5%, a score 517 or greater.

News swept like wildfire through the clinic, and shortly thereafter, Tadd and some other technicians filed into the breakroom with a decorative chocolate cake and punch in tow. "I knew you could do it!" Tadd cheers victoriously, offering a chaste hug to Margot. "Dr. Hughes," he swipes his hand in the air as if to paint an imaginary portrait. "It has a nice ring to it."

"I still don't understand why you put yourself through all of that," mentions an older phlebotomist. "Cordonia has a medical school right down the road--"

"Because Margot wants to go to one of the best medical schools in the world," interrupts a deeply demanding, yet sincere voice. “To Harvard. Like me.”

"Dr. Ramirez," Margot smiles brightly, jumping up to greet her mentor with a hug.

"That is, you are still looking at my alma mater for medical school--"

"Yes ma'am!" Margot's eyes light up with the thought that her dream of going to Harvard Medical School is becoming her reality. "It would be such an honor to go there, let alone to follow in your footsteps."

Dr. Ramirez pulls Margot in for another tight hug. "My word, Mary-Margaret, 519?" she presses her cheek to Margot's, "I am so proud of you."

"Thank you, Dr. Ramirez," Margot warmly responds, "thank you for taking a chance on me and helping me so much with my studies and research--"

"You know I did that for selfish reasons, right?" The practitioner stifles a smile while Margot squints her eyes with suspicion. "Cordonia needs more female physicians, and more importantly, physicians that will make a difference in its healthcare," she grips tightly to Margot’s hand, "for everyone. I believe you will lead this country in a health care reformation."

"I don't know what to say," Margot clears her throat as she fights back the tears. "I hope I make you proud--"

"You already do." Dr. Ramirez gently touches Margot's cheek lovingly before turning to exit the room.

"Oh!" Margot quickly chases after the obstetrician, “can I talk to you? Privately?” With a nod, Dr. Ramirez leads Margot into a quiet corner. “I know my work-study ends in two weeks--”

“I know. Don’t remind me, Margot--”

“Well, I was wondering,” Margot chews on the side of her mouth, fidgeting with her fingers, “if by any chance I could possibly stay on?”

“Oh, Margot, I wish I could. Unfortunately with budget cuts--”

Margot shakes her head. “No, no, Dr. Ramirez, I meant if I could stay on, shadowing my usual Monday and Thursday mornings, I mean, if that’s alright. Learn more? Keep up my skills?”

“You want to continue volunteering with us?” The doctor gives an inquisitive look. “Don’t you want to get a job to earn money before you move to the states next year?”

“I already got that covered,” Margot assuredly answers. “I just got a job at Bríki, the coffee shop past the square--”

“Oh my gosh,” Dr. Ramirez’s eyes light up. “Does Aleksi still own that place?”

“Mr. Pavlis? Yes! Him and his son run it together, I believe--”

“They have the best coffee,” she energetically smiles, “now I have another reason to stop by.” She kindly places her hand on Margot’s shoulder. “Of course, you can stay on as a volunteer. Whenever you want, however much you want. It is a pleasure to have you around.” With a squeeze of her arm, Dr. Ramirez turns to go to her next appointment, but stops halfway down the hall. “Oh, Margot? My nurse stepped away to make an important phone call. Do you mind escorting my next patient to the exam room?”

Margot dutifully nods with a grin. She twirls around, bounding for the front desk to grab the chart of Dr. Ramirez’s next patient, a new patient. After making a few small notes, Margot opens the door to call her back.

“Brooks? Riley Brooks?”

*****

Tags: (this is my original tag list for this series; if you wanted to be added or removed, please let me know!) @alyssalauren @ao719 @bbrandy2002 @burnsoslow @charlotteg234 @chemist-ana @choiceskatie @forallthatitsworth @gkittylove99 @glaimtruelovealways @kat-tia801 @khoicesbyk @lovingchoices14 @lovelyladyk88 @lucy-268 @mainstreetreader @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @neotericthemis @nestledonthaveone @sfb123 @shannonwrote @shewillreadyou @sweatyrysconnoisseur @taniasethi @tessa-liam @texaskitten30 @thefrenchiemama @thegreentwin @twinkleallnight @yourmajesty09

#the royal romance #the royal romance au #the missionary’s daughter #drake walker x oc #choices fanfiction #trr fanfiction #liam x riley

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memoirsofanerdygirl · 3 years

Text

The Gold in the Abyss - Chapter One: Going Over His Head

Summary:

London, 1991.

Katherine Clarke -- Auror, Slytherin, and in desperate need of Severus Snape’s help. A mysterious shadow has poisoned two victims with an unknown substance, slowly decomposing their stomachs from within. When more bodies turn up in cramped London alleys, she has no choice but to ask her former professor for assistance.

As Britain is plunged into war, Kate and Severus are forced to confront their demons of guilt and fear. Caught between two sides of a hopeless conflict, can they learn to respect one another, and, in time, perhaps even care for the other?

Warnings: Language, implied attempted rape, mild graphic depictions of violence/gore.

Notes: (feel free to skip this, it’s just to cover my ass) The Harry Potter Universe, all its characters and places are owned by J.K. Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, nor am I making any profit from this story. All original characters, I own. This story does contain adult situations, language, violence, and sexual situations. If any of these offend you, please do not read.

Okay, now for the real notes. So, this idea has been floating around for quite a while now, and I’m super, super excited to share it with you all. Hope you enjoy! And remember, comments, reblogs and general reactions are ALWAYS appreciated :)

~~~

The bookshop was tucked away in a corner of Diagon Alley, hidden around the bend of a back road that branched off the main shopping street.Small, but stuffed from floor to ceiling with old and new volumes alike, topics ranging from Guide to De-Ghouling to the latest editions of The Dark Arts Outsmarted.

A sign with a bubbling cauldron and the words ‘The Melting Plot’ dangled above the entrance. Kate pulled open the door and entered. It smelled of old books and the unmistakable scent of a cooling charm -- artificial freshness, like the crisp air in the frozen aisle of a grocery store. All the same, she was glad for the rush of cold air that dispelled the muggy mid-August heat.

She slipped her wand out of the sleeve of her lightweight jacket and stuck it in her belt loop. Her armpits were damp with sweat. At least there would be no stains in the loose blouse underneath. She shrugged off the jacket and draped the olive material over her arm.

The bookkeeper was a spindly old man with a knotted hulihee beard, two bushels of coarse grey hair broadening his jaw to three times its size, but leaving his chin bare. He gave off whiffs of tobacco when one stepped too near, but he did, at the very least, know the store like the back of his hand. He looked up at her through thin rimmed spectacles.

“Research,” said Kate. “Poisons.”

He jerked his head toward the back right corner of the shop.

She nodded. It suddenly occurred to her that in all the times she’d been to The Melting Plot, she had never asked the man’s name. Hadn’t been able to stand the stench long enough.

The Melting Plot wasn’t large at all; perhaps, if she had to guess, half the size of Flourish and Blotts. Besides Kate, there was only one other patron present at the moment: a rather beefy man clad in deep violet robes. He barely glanced up at her as she breezed past his aisle.

Secluded from the busy areas of Diagon Alley as it was, the shop’s customers were a medley of sporadic regulars who forwent the noisy din of Flourish and Blotts for the empty silence of The Melting Plot. Kate, however, came for the prices. Two-for-a-Galleon days were simply too tempting.

Coming upon the aisle in the back, she sighed. She didn’t have the faintest idea what she was looking for; she had only the patients’ symptoms to go off of, and even those weren’t much. Vomiting. Bloody urine. Comatose state. How in the world was she supposed to find the poisonous culprit?

Encyclopedia, she answered herself. That had always been a good place to start.

She proceeded down the aisle, her finger brushing over the spines of the books as she quickly scanned the titles. Dark Arts Discovered by Eglantine Pickering… Vampires and Bats by Garrett Puckett… She was halfway down the aisle before she found a relevant title and plucked it off the shelf. She rested her foot on a bottom shelf, balancing on one leg, and propped the heavy book on her knee. She began to read.

Barely five minutes in, and already it was hopeless. Like finding a Knut in a pile of dragon dung. She flipped idly through the pages, and when she heard the front door creak open again, she peered through the aisles for a glimpse of the newcomer.

A flash of black between the stacks. Clacks of a forceful stride on the wooden floor. There was a low murmur, and Kate heard the bookkeeper wheeze, “ ‘Course,” and then the squeak of the backroom door opening and closing. Likely some customer picking up an order. She returned to the book in her hand.

A Compendium of Magical Poisons, it was called. An antique, too; the textured leather spine gilded and ridged. She snapped the book shut to inspect the front and back covers. It would make a fine addition to her collection.

Might as well.

She exited the aisle for the till. If it didn’t prove useful, it could always be used as a coaster for her tea. Or given to Tristan; Tristan knew all sorts of muggle markets that sold old items for a vastly inflated price. One of the advantages of being a muggleborn, she supposed.

The bookkeeper reentered from the backroom, carrying a small stack of books. “Four Galleons,” he said. “You want wrapping?”

The clink of coins hitting the counter. “Yes.”

But… she knew that voice. Deep, deliberate. Always the hint of a sneer. She snapped her gaze up from the item in her hands. “Professor Snape?”

He was exactly as she remembered him. A tall, sharp frame draped in black robes buttoned up to his neck. Lank black hair lay limp against his pallid face, upon which a sharp brow was quickly rising. “Miss Clarke. What a surprise.”

“Yes. Yes, indeed.” As his critical gaze swept over her, Kate was suddenly very conscious of her flushed face, slightly oily with sweat. And Lord, her hair -- she hadn’t washed the dark brown mess in three days, too busy stressing over the new case. She instinctively raised a hand to sweep her hair over one shoulder. It was surprising, him having recognised her without her signature schoolgirl fringe.

“It’s been six years, hasn’t it?” he said.

It… had. Six years since she’d left the confines of Hogwarts. “Yes. Yes, indeed,” she said.

The bookkeeper eyed them both with a twitching eye as he finished wrapping the books in brown paper and tied the package with a string of twine.

Snape whisked his purchase off the counter. He gave her a curt nod and turned for the door.

But -- he -- “How are the students?” she called. The least he could do was to finish their bloody conversation.

He turned around. “Simply charming,” he sneered.

“Wonderful.” He had never liked teaching, much less his students. Kate knew that. For four years, she had watched him stalk the dungeons. She’d watched him smirk in glee when a student answered a question wrong, watched him dock points by the bucketful when they made a racket in the halls. She, for some miraculous reason, had been on the receiving end of his withering stares only a handful of times. Owing to her Slytherin status, perhaps. Merlin knew she had never been a Potions Extraordinaire like Snape.

Potions… Could she…

“My cousin” -- she fished for something to say -- “my cousin is a first year student this year.”

“Your cousin.”

“Ron Weasley.”

“Splendid.” His nostrils flared. “Another shabby Weasley to add to my excessive collection.”

She bit back a retort. They were a little shabby, and she admitted as much. But when Snape said it like that, sarcasm dripping from each word, it made her stomach twist. Regrettably, defending them would have to wait. For now, she needed Snape to tolerate her.

Which, judging by the fleeting glance he cast toward the door, was going none too well.

“Perhaps,” he tucked the package under his arm, “we shall meet again in another six years.”

She smiled. “I doubt you’ll have to wait that long.”

“Is that so?”

“Well, I was wondering whether I might… consult your expertise.”

His brow arched up high on his pale forehead. “My expertise being…”

“Potions.” Kate made her way toward him, past the till and the bookkeeper. “You see, I’ve been assigned a case involving an unknown poison -- I’m an Auror -- and, well, unfortunately it seems that an ‘Exceeds Expectations’ N.E.W.T in Potions is not quite enough to find the antidote.”

“I can’t imagine it would be,” he said coldly.

It was her turn to lift a brow.

“Haven’t you contacted the St. Mungo’s Healers? They’re always eager to offer their services to the desperate.”

Kate forced a wry smile to her lips. “I have. A team has already begun to look into it. But, according to my father, we’ll all be dead in our graves before they find a cure.”

“And anything your father says must be true.”

Her smile was difficult to maintain. “He works at St. Mungo’s. Claims a horde of pixies could get it done faster. So, frankly, I am desperate. Two lives hinge-- ”

“So I’ve heard,” he interrupted. “I do read the Daily Prophet, Miss Clarke. ‘HIT Witch Janice Bulwark mysteriously discovered unconscious, admitted to St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries’, no?” He recited the headline.

Kate averted her eyes, muttering under her breath. She thought Kingsley had managed to get the reporter to keep the whole thing under wraps. “Yes, that’s the one.” She glanced at the bookkeeper, who was still eyeing them grittily. She caught a strong whiff of tobacco and resisted the urge to scowl. “Listen,” she said, “it’s rather sensitive information I’m about to share with you-- ”

“I’d much rather you didn’t,” said Snape. “I have no intention of involving myself in Ministry matters, much less a murder investigation.”

“Yes, but we have never seen anything like this before, and I’ve already exhausted every other option. I’m doing research in a bloody bookshop, for Merlin’s sake.”

He smirked. “Then I hope you are still a swift reader.”

Git. Kate lowered her voice to a harsh whisper. “Their stomachs are being decomposed from within, Professor.”

His ink black eyes studied her woody brown ones. “I’m afraid I must disappoint you,” he said smoothly. “Term begins in a few short weeks, as you may well know, and I must prepare for the students.”

Prepare for the students? That was a load of dragon shit, and they both knew it. Snape’s gaze glinted, challenging her.

So, this was how he wanted to play things.

“Of course.” She smiled. “I understand.” She held up the thick encyclopedia in her hands. “Well, I had better go pay for this before the man suspects me of theft. Wonderful to see you again, really.”

The slightest twitch of his brows was the only sign she had surprised him. Abruptly, he turned and departed the store, leaving a very amused Katherine Clarke to watch the door swing shut behind him.

“You’re right about the stealin’,” the old bookkeeper grumbled. She caught another whiff of tobacco. “You going to buy it or not?”

“No,” said Kate firmly. “I don’t think I will.” She had too many books as it was. Besides, if she was right, she would soon possess a resource far more useful than a tatty reference book.

***

In the end, Kate did purchase the book. She had a terrible soft spot for beautiful books that left an even more terrible dent in her Gringotts account. She strode a little ways toward the main street before she stopped, shifted her paper-wrapped package more securely under her arm, and turned on her heel.

A swift pop, and she appeared once again in a back alley. Blaring honks and the rumble of traffic sounded from up ahead.

Exiting onto Whitehall, she wove among the pedestrians until she came to a row of black spiky railings that flanked two flights of descending stairs labelled ‘LADIES’ and ‘GENTLEMEN’. She took the stairs to the right and quickly emerged into the underground public toilets. Dim lighting concealed most of the grime on the black and white tiles, and the mirrors that were supposed to have hung above the three sinks were respectively cracked, nonexistent and spattered with a brown substance that looked suspiciously like spit and chewed tobacco.

Merlin, did everyone enjoy tobacco?

Despite being the main entrance to the Ministry, the Whitehall public toilets were quite disgusting, and the only reason Kate could think why they wouldn’t perform a few simple cleaning charms on the place was that it kept Muggles at bay. In all the years she had used the toilets, she had only ever seen four, perhaps five Muggles wander in. They had been chased out by the unsavoury sight, or else quickly Confounded and sent back overground. Today was no different. Of the dozen or so people queued up by the stalls, all bore some sign of being a Ministry employee.

Dawlish nodded at her from the next queue over. “Alright there, Clarke?”

“Just popping in for a quick chat with Scrimgeour,” she returned.

“Thought you were out on assignment.”

“I was.” She stepped forward in the queue. “Quite productive, actually. Lunch break?” she asked him.

He nodded and patted his stomach beneath his beige suit. “Genevive came ‘round.”

“What about the baby?”

“Helen’s with Gen’s parents.” His wiry brown hair looked grey under the flickering fluorescent lights. “I’ve got a holiday next weekend, so they decided to come down for a fortnight.”

“Excellent.”

Dawlish stepped into a stall. “It will be, as long as my mother-in-law quits smoking,” he called. “Terrible for Helen’s lungs, I told her.” There was a flushing noise and he was gone.

Again, she thought. Again with the tobacco.

It wasn’t long before Kate joined the throng of Ministry workers ambling toward the golden gates at the far end of the Atrium. The crowd was much thinner than the morning rush, however, and within minutes she was striding into the Auror Headquarters on Level Two.

Dawlish had gotten there before her and was already settling in his cubicle, a small mountain of paperwork before him. He adjusted the framed picture lovingly placed in the corner of the cubicle -- a smiling brunette cradled a pig-tailed toddler, both perched atop a broomstick -- then set about dipping his quill in ink to begin the first page.

“Oi, Clarke -- ” Gawain Robard twisted around in his chair, “ -- look at this.” He gestured at a chubby faced witch with cropped pink hair.

The girl grinned cheekily and squeezed her eyes shut as Kate turned to watch. The enormous mane seemed to sprout out of her very neck; bushels of tawny hair laced with grey grew and grew until they framed the girl’s face like a lion’s mane. The girl brought her hands up to her eyes and formed two circles, like glasses, and set her lips into a deep frown.

Kate snorted, then broke into a laugh as the girl growled in a spot-on imitation of the Head Auror.

“Brilliant, eh?” Robard gazed at the girl proudly. One half of his face was gnarled with raised white scars.

“Stunning,” she laughed. “Though I’m not sure Scrimgeour would appreciate the comedy.” She wracked her brain for the girl’s name… Tina… Tink… Tory, was it?

The girl flushed and brought her hands down. The mane retreated. “Bloody terrifying, he is.”

“Who -- Scrimgeour?” Kate asked.

She nodded, her hair turning to an apple red. “You know, I was getting myself some tea from the break room the other day -- adding my milk and sugar and everything -- and he appears next to me and he says -- ” the girl deepened her voice, imitating him, “ -- ‘Ought to use less milk. Have a mind to save the budget.’” She leaned against Robard’s desk. “I wasn’t quite sure what to say. He seems to hate me most out of all the A.T.s.”

Robard propped an arm on the back of his chair. “Well, there are only two of you. The man’s got to pick one, hasn’t he?”

Kate frowned. “Only two Trainees? I thought he hadn’t finished sorting through applications. Didn’t he have seventy some odd left?”

“Dunno.” He ran a hand over his close-cropped black hair. “Anyway, I’ve got a pair of missing twins to find.” He spun back around in his seat.

“Godspeed.” The Auror Trainee’s hair bloomed back to an offensive pink.

Kate could distinctly remember meeting the girl not a week ago when the two A.T.s had first stepped foot in the Headquarters. After all, it was difficult to forget meeting a metamorphmagus, especially one with hair that rivaled the most garish of Valentine’s cards. But she could not, for the life of her, recall the girl’s name.

“Can I get you anything, Ms Clarke?” the girl asked, stepping out of Robard’s cubicle.

Kate had the sudden, fleeting image of a hook nosed, sharp faced man sneering at her over a cauldron. She hadn’t been addressed as ‘Miss Clarke’ for six years, and now… twice in one day. “Just Kate,” she said. “Er -- actually -- could you… ” She gave a small laugh. “I’m afraid I’ve forgotten your name.”

“Tonks,” said the girl brightly, offering a hand to shake.

Kate took it gratefully. “Welcome to the Auror Headquarters.” She smiled. “Where we discuss murders over tea.”

Tonks grinned, and her hair turned yellow.

Merlin’s pants. The girl was like one of those Muggle mood rings.

“Is Kingsley in?” Kate asked.

“Don’t think so. I saw him dragged out by a group of Obliviators ‘bout an hour ago. A little irritated by the looks of it.”

Then he’d have to wait, she decided. Time was of the essence. She bid Tonks a quick goodbye and wove to her own cubicle to set her package down.

Kate’s cubicle, directly across from Kingsley’s, was cluttered. Very cluttered. A pair of reading spectacles rested lens-side down atop various open books. An unopened Chocolate Frog sat beside a red case folder labelled ‘BULWARK/GOLDHORN’, from which various photographs and documents threatened to burst. A marked map of London’s warehouse district was pinned to her cubicle wall, and next to that a rather crude drawing of a gnome Ginny had recently gifted her. Kate bent to pick up the scraps of parchment that had fluttered to the floor, set adrift by colleagues sweeping past her desk.

Someday she would find time to tidy everything up. Someday, when this whole decomposing stomach debacle was sorted.

She made her way to the back corner of the room where the Head Auror’s Office was located. Kate knocked softly on the door. The blinds looking out toward the cubicles were drawn.

“Enter,” grumbled a voice on the other side.

Scrimgeour’s office was rather dark; grey storm clouds twisted and gathered in the windows behind his desk, pregnant with heavy rain. He scribbled a few last words on a lavender coloured memo before it folded itself into a neat paper aeroplane and zoomed out the door just as Kate closed it behind her.

“Clarke.” Scrimgeour fixed her with a steadfast gaze, his mouth turned down in a deep frown. A pair of wire-rimmed spectacles sat low on his ridged nose. “What’s the matter? Something gone wrong with one of them victims?”

“No, no,” she said. “Conditions unchanged, last I heard.”

“Comatose.”

She nodded. “Fortunately. Or they’d be in quite some pain.”

“Then what is the problem?”

“The St Mungo’s task force isn’t working fast enough to save them -- Bulwark and Goldhorn.” It was the truth, plain and simple.

“Aren’t they?”

Kate approached his desk but did not sit down; she rested her hands on the back of the chair before the table. “It’s been made very clear that they’ve only got a list of three possible poisons. Three, sir. It’s been a week and a half. Therefore,” she steeled herself, “it is my hope that, with your permission, I may bring the Potions Master Severus Snape in as a consultant on this case and work on an antidote myself.”

“Severus Snape? What -- the Death Eater?” His tone was incredulous.

“Former Death Eater, sir.”

Scrimgeour huffed a laugh, shaking his tawny head. His maned head looked too large for his rangy frame. When he saw that Kate’s expression was quite unchanged, he stilled.

She took the chance. “He is a brilliant Potioneer. A specialist in his field. In fact, I believe his knowledge of poisons and antidotes surpasses even that of the task force’s.”

“With all due respect, Clarke, you can’t expect me to believe that you and Severus Snape can produce an antidote faster than the task force. They’re a group of highly skilled Healers. They’ve studied poisons for years.”

“And with all due respect to you, sir, you have never been taught by Severus Snape.” Her straight, stubborn brows drew together.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, revealing small rows of snaggled teeth. He let out a suppressed sigh. “Sometimes I wonder if you weren’t sorted into Gryffindor instead.”

She ignored the comment. Her feelings regarding her house were muddled, and it was much easier to ignore them instead. Besides, no use crying over spilt potions. “Please, sir. It can only help the investigation.”

“Your job is to catch the wizard, not to cure the patients.”

“And the antidote will help us to do just that. You know it will. The sooner we find the antidote, the sooner we catch the wizard.” Kate released the chair back and slid her hands into the pockets of her trousers. “If you require it, I can have a copy of his professional record owled to you, but that will take time. Precious time I’m afraid the victims don’t have.”

Lie. She was quite sure she would not be able to obtain a copy of Snape’s record at all. The man certainly wouldn’t provide it willingly.

Scrimgeour narrowed his yellowish eyes behind his spectacles. “And if, in the end, you find you’ve spent too much time mixing cocktails in the dungeons and the case goes cold -- what happens then? What happens when you find you’ve lost?”

“I won’t -- ”

“Shacklebolt is an excellent Auror, top of the line. But no wizard shy of Merlin himself could conduct interviews, formulate theories, inspect crime scenes, subdue the Prophet, investigate suspects and catch the perpetrator singlehandedly.”

“But he won’t be, sir. I am in no way deserting him. I’m merely pursuing an alternate method of investigation in addition to the established method.” Kate took her hands out of her trouser pockets. She hastily swept her dark hair over one shoulder. “I’ve had a chat with Kingsley already. He agrees that it would be extremely helpful to have Snape on standby.” Her mouth dried slightly. She tried not to swallow.

Scrimgeour pulled his frown deeper and inspected Kate for a few quiet moments. Then his spectacles shifted as his ridged nose twitched in resignation. “Shall I inform him, or shall you?”

Warm satisfaction spread through her chest. “Oh, no, it had much better come from you.”

“Very well.” He pulled a blank sheet of parchment from behind his desk.

“Thank you, sir.” Kate returned to the door and pulled it open.

His rumbling voice called her back. “Remind me what grade you received on your Potions N.E.W.T.?”

This she couldn’t lie about. Scrimgeour had her records. “‘Exceeds Expectations’, sir.”

Scrimegour’s busheled brows lowered. “I see.” The doubt in his tone was unmistakable. “I don’t need to remind you that two lives rest in your hands. However you decide to proceed with the case, whether through investigation or experimentation, will determine whether they and their families receive justice. If you fail, it will reflect poorly on our department.” His yellowish eyes blinked at her in the dim office. “Be careful, Katherine.”

She dipped her head. “Of course.”

***

Kate had been right about Kingsley. Admittedly, he’d been rightfully irritated at her not having waited until after he’d got back to ask Scrimgeour, but it was nothing she couldn’t handle. She’d even gotten him to confess that having Snape on hand would be useful. At least he hadn’t given her one of his ‘honestly, Kate’ looks. The last time she had gotten one of those was three years ago when she’d still been his trainee.

The keys jangled as she inserted one into the lock and opened the door to her flat. The bloody things were a nuisance, but living squarely in the middle of Westminster, it was a necessary sacrifice.

It was dark and quiet inside her flat. Street lamps outside cast a small pool of light by the window. Late night traffic grumbled past; Trafalgar Square never slept. Kate dropped her briefcase by the door and hung the keys on the coat stand. As she passed into the small kitchen, she dropped her linen jacket on the granite counter.

She had already eaten dinner with Kingsley, working on the case while nibbling on Ministry canteen sandwiches. Four empty wrappers lay crumpled on the table before they had looked up and realised it was nearly ten. But the brain burned nearly twenty percent of one’s daily calories, which meant an extra supper for her after a long day’s work.

And so it was that Kate rooted around the fridge, the white light casting an eerie glow on her pale face. She spooned down a bit of leftover curry from the Thai place down the street. A quick wave of her wand and the dishes were washed. She crept down the creaky hall to the bedroom.

The bedroom door was slightly ajar, but all was dark inside. White noise rumbled in the chambers. Kate eased herself through the crack in the door, then shut it behind her. She waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness before creeping to the dresser across from the large bed. Slowly, ever so slowly, she pulled the drawer out, inch by inch. The ancient wood squeaked, loud enough to be heard over the white noise.

A groan from the rumpled sheets on the bed. “Kate?”

Damn. She gave up and yanked the drawer open the rest of the way. “Sorry to wake you,” she whispered. “I was trying to be quiet.”

“It’s fine. Just got back from work?” His American accent was slightly slurred with sleep.

“Yes. Kingsley and I had some business to discuss.” She pulled her nightclothes from the drawer and pushed it shut again.

Mark grunted. Kate could just make out his lean form struggling to sit up.

She shushed him. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be right there.”

“No, no, it’s okay, baby. I’ll wait up for you.” But he fell back against the pillows and tried to conceal a yawn.

Kate shimmied out of her work clothes, carefully folding the white shirt and trousers and draping them on top of the dresser.

“What was the business with Kingsley about?”

“The new case.” She slipped into her nightshirt. “We brought in a new consultant today.”

Mark hummed sleepily and dragged a hand up to scratch his beard. She climbed into bed next to him.

“Come here,” he said. He opened his arms and waited until she settled in to continue. “Who’s the consultant?”

His chest was too high for her head; her neck scrunched uncomfortably when she laid against him. “My former Potions Master.” Kate shifted her arm under her shoulder, then changed her mind and wriggled it out.

“The mean one or the fat one?”

“Mean one. I actually haven’t heard from the fat one in a while.” She grunted as she shifted positions. “But Tristan says he keeps getting letters from him.”

“Really?”

“Apparently Slughorn wants a special invitation to one of his concerts.”

His beard scratched the top of her head as he looked down at her. “You okay?”

She removed her arm from under her shoulder for the third time and stilled. “Sorry.”

“So, what’s the plan with him? Your Potions Master?”

“Not sure yet.” Well, she did have a general idea, but the specifics would ultimately come down to how difficult Snape was set on being. “How was your day?”

“Good.” He rubbed her back, up and down. “Went to the Leaky Cauldron to get some writing done. Five thousand words and half a chapter finished.”

“Excellent. Has what’s-his-name found the killer yet?”

“Not yet. That’s in Chapter Thirteen.”

Kate laughed softly. “Thirteen, you say?”

“Yeah.” His fingers wove into her dark hair.

For a few minutes they were silent, white noise thundering over the sound of their breathing and the traffic outside. His chest rose and fell; Kate’s neck cricked awkwardly.

“I kept staring at our spot at the bar,” he said suddenly. “At the Leaky Cauldron.”

She thought he’d fallen back asleep. “Our spot?”

“Remember -- the day we met? You were sitting on the third seat from the left end of the bar -- ”

“You remember which seat I was sitting in?”

“Of course. How could I not?”

Kate huffed in amusement.

“You wore those robes -- I think they were blue, yeah, navy blue -- and you were reading that ratty copy of Pride and Prejudice.”

“And the ring too. Don’t forget the wedding ring.”

She could hear the grin in his voice. “Didn’t stop me from asking you out, did it?”

“Not sure what that says about you, Mark.”

“But I knew it was a fake.”

“Did you now?”

He hummed. “I was people-watching that night. There was no way I would’ve missed something as obvious as that.”

“And yet,” Kate propped her chin on his chest to look up at him, “I distinctly remember you ordering two bottles of firewhiskey, throwing me the worst pickup line, and proceeding to get me exceedingly sloshed.”

“You weren’t that drunk,” he protested. “You were still sober enough to help me with my novel.”

“Well, we both know it only sold so well because of me.”

“Really?”

“Most definitely. The murder mystery wouldn’t’ve been half so believeable if I hadn’t mixed in a dash of first-hand experience.”

He chuckled. “Of course, baby. All because of you.” His arms tightened around her back. His voice was husky when he spoke again. “My life is perfect because of you. So, so perfect.”

She could almost feel the blood rushing to her cheeks. She didn’t know how to respond.

“Sleep, sleep, baby,” he murmured. “I love you.” He kissed the top of her head. “My soon-to-be wife.”

And suddenly the ring on her left hand felt cold as ice. She could think of nothing to say without sounding like a lovesick chit, so she settled for sliding an arm around his stomach. “Goodnight, Mark.”

He merely hummed in contentment.

It took less than five minutes for him to drift off again. Kate’s head rose and fell in time with his chest. A powerful snore escaped his mouth. Wrapped in rumbling white noise, she let her thoughts race.

She’d been wrong before, when she’d thought Snape looked the same. Their exchange had lasted mere minutes, his words, tone, attitude all as she’d expected, but his posture, his body language… Taut, shallow breaths through the nose, fingers gripping his package so tightly they turned white…

Of course, noticing such details was part of her training, but even without it, she would’ve recognised the signs for what they were -- silent, creeping fear.

The fear of the unknown. The knowledge that something, at any time, could attack her from anywhere. Like stumbling down a pitch black corridor and feeling a hand latch onto her ankle.

Merlin.

Kate slid from the bed. For a moment, she teetered on the edge; she was being ridiculous and dramatic. Crawling back into bed was the right choice, the reasonable choice. Kate watched the sleeping man in the bed, his golden brown hair nearly black in the darkness, his beard freshly trimmed, his chest bare. Her left thumb reached for the ring around her finger.

Perhaps a cup of tea would do her good.

The warm beverage didn’t take long to make. Soon, she was cradling the mug in her hands, though not daring to drink for fear of burning her tongue. Waiting a few minutes would do the trick.

Out in the sitting room, there was no white noise. A siren wined in the distance. Kate leaned against the window frame, looking out over Trafalgar Square. Despite the late hour, pedestrians still dotted the brightly lit square; some gathered around the colourful fountains, while others stopped to admire Nelson’s Column, an imposing Corinthian column upon which sat the Admiral of the same name. He hopped the twig ages ago, but his mark was long since made.

Kate blew on her tea. The warm steam tickled her nose. Some marks, she knew, never faded. The sight of her former Head of House had only reminded her of the fact.

Even now, bundled in her soft cotton nightshirt and her hair cascading around her shoulders, she could still feel his hand on her breast. Gripping. Pinching.

Hyatt Travers.

Her stomach turned over. She set her mug on the window sill.

The Death Eaters swallowed Slytherin house like a riptide. She knew, because fighting the current had come with a steep price she’d paid in full.

Her hands itched in restlessness. Kate picked up her mug again, scraping the rim with a nail. She looked at her knuckles. It was too easy to picture his blood and hers, drops flying from her fist as she’d drawn back to strike him again. The blinding frenzy. His spit in her face, a mouthful of saliva and blood from his broken teeth.

The scars from that night were still there, faint but clearly visible between her knuckle ridges.

Mark asked about them once. A rough encounter with an illegal dealer a couple years ago, she told him. He hadn’t suspected anything then, but since then… Her random bursts of resentment were impossible to overlook.

From the window, Kate watched a couple amble across the Square, arm in arm. The woman turned her face up to his, and the man gave her a chaste kiss. Kate smiled, but it soon disappeared.

When her moods came -- as they inevitably would -- Mark would sit her down on their bed, poking and prodding with this tranquil voice. He was trying to avoid a row, but it was like a bloody piece of plastic wrap smothering her. She tried to contain herself, really, but her voice raised of its own accord, the tears came unbidden, the swell of anger unwelcome. And when he shushed her or pulled her to his chest, she just … she couldn’t. She didn’t want to be quiet. She didn’t need a hug.

Kate took a large sip of her tea. The hot liquid prickled her tongue.

Oh, Mark… He would never look at her the same way.

That night -- her violence -- was a secret to keep.

***

Loud beeping woke Kate in the morning. She felt better after a quick face wash, but last night’s sleeplessness lingered as she plodded into the kitchen. Mark was seated at the small square table, dressed in only a shirt and boxers. He sipped a mug, transfixed by the glowing picture box pushed against the corner counter. A blonde woman chattered on screen as images of rubble flashed behind her.

Kate gazed at the box for a long moment; it was called a telephone, wasn’t it? Well, tele-something, that much she knew. “You’re up early,” she said.

Mark glanced up. His brown gaze swept over her nightshirt clad form. A blush rose in her cheeks. “I’m meeting Steven and Wilson for some ball at nine. Told you last week, remember?”

She did not. “Football?”

He pushed his floppy brown hair back from his eyes. “They’re muggles. Can’t play Quidditch.”

“Shame.” She spotted a covered plate on the table. “Oh, what’s this? Breakfast?”

“Toast and eggs. There’s coffee in the pot, if you want it.”

Kate pouted playfully. “No baked beans?”

He grimaced. “I will never understand you Brits.”

“No matter. I’m sure I’ll survive.” She gave him a quick peck and settled down to eat. Mark turned back to his tele-box, downing the rest of his coffee.

She had just finished her toast when Mark interrupted.

“Incoming.” He was looking out the window.

With the way the table was pushed against the wall and window, Kate had to stand and move behind Mark to get a look outside. In the distance, above the narrow alley the window faced, two spots flapped toward them.

“Two owls?” She settled back into her seat. “You know, we’re much too popular to be living in such a busy muggle area.”

“I’m the one paying the rent -- ”

“Just having you on, Mark,” she smiled. “The concealment charms’ll hold up.”

And though Mark’s gaze followed the sweeping path of the owls as they swooped into the alley, to the Muggle passerbys down below, they were nothing more than thin air. Mark pushed the window open. A beastly eagle owl fluttered in, followed by a rather plain barn owl.

Tied onto the first owl’s leg was a bundled copy of the Daily Prophet. Kate reached over her eggs and untied the string. It took a few tries; several of her nails had broken during a nasty tumble in a duelling simulation a week ago.

“It’s for you.” Mark slid the letter from the barn owl across to her.

She hummed in acknowledgement, but opened the newspaper instead. She hoped Kingsley had taken care of the stray reporter. A quick scan of the paper confirmed her hopes: there was nothing about the case. In fact, the only interesting headline read, ‘GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN STILL UNDER INVESTIGATION’, but she gave it no mind. That was Moody’s case.

“Here.” She handed the Prophet to Mark, then took up the letter on the table.

The letter was merely a small square of folded parchment sealed with flimsy black wax. Katherine Clarke was written in sharp lettering, as if the author had tried to stab through the paper as they wrote. She broke open the seal. There was no greeting, no signature, but she didn’t need them to know exactly who had sent the letter.

She couldn’t help it; she snorted.

Mark looked up at her. “What?”

Kate set the paper next to her plate. “Seems I’ll be visiting Hogwarts soon.”

For, written on the yellowed parchment in a cramped, spidery scrawl:

Potions classroom. 25th August. 4pm.

Without Rufus Scrimgeour, if you please.

~~~

Notes: Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist. No promises on when the next update will be, but I’m working on it :)

~~~

#severus snape #severus snape x oc #snape fandom #snape community #professor snape #pro snape #hp fanfic #fanfic #original character #auror #auror fanfic #snape x oc #the gold in the abyss #snapedom #ministry of magic

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bread0nhead · 4 years

Text

When the fire starts to burn (pt. 1)

Dabi x f!HERO Reader

A/N: I re-read @divinewhimsy Ichor series, and it made me want to write this. So check Divine out!

Series rating 18+

When the first starts series follows the BNHA manga chapters 290+ very heavily, meaning this series does contain SPOILERS. The reader has a defined quirk set for the story to follow.

Tip jar | thank you very much!

“It’s Touya’s birthday....”

You softly spoke to the large red hair man curled over his desk completely focused on paperwork. He remained quiet, the whole room was quiet. It was just a dull ringing in your ear and the sound of his pen scratching at paper.

“Mm”

“Natsuo and I are going out to celebrate.”

“Mm”

“We’re getting Touyas favorite foods he enjoyed as a kid. I even made a little cake. His favorite kind.”

“Mm”

You focused on the ringing in your ears... mindless thoughts haunted inside. You felt especially alone today.

“You landed front page and three full spreads for a magazine. You have the interview and photoshoot with them next Wednesday.”

“That’s great. It’s rare to have one full spread...three gives a lot of opportunities for me to boost my image.”

Of course he fucking talks now.

“You could talk about your family. Everyone likes that.”

“Mm”

Fuck you.

You grew up with the Todoroki family- your father working closely with Enji for many years created a strong bond between both households. On top of that, the Todoroki family had three sons and one daughter. While your house also had three sons and one daughter. All around the same age too. Your brothers would hangout with the Todorokis on occasion, but never as much as you. That became your second home.

You understood the intense trainings Touya went through, your father wasn’t much different. Not as violent or destructive as Endevor, but equally as obtrusive. You were raised to be a hero, as much as you detested the idea. Then by the time you were an adult, you didn’t know anything other than being a hero. You felt you were left with no other choice. After all, support quirks are rare, and your with your unique material arts skills- you were a highly desired sidekick. Unfortunately- your position was already chosen for you. Sidekick to Enji Todoroki. The great Endevor. The biggest asshole.

This partnership with Endevor is a one way street. You are only here for your quirk- the ability to boost healing, and increas the strength of body and quirk through touch. The more the touch, the longer the effect. You’re just here to feed the power hungry man what he craves.

“Okay...well, I guess I will see you tomorrow”

You turn on your heels and exit his office. You look through the windows and notice the dense snow trickling down. A part of you wants to stay inside the agency, surrounded by the over abundance of fire quirk users. The building is always boiling hot inside, but during the winter months you actually enjoy the comfort. So when your body was blasted by the winter air upon the doors opening, you pick up speed power walking back home with your jacket wrapped tightly around you. The air is dense, it stings your nose with each inhale as the cold nips your skin. It’s hard to breath, but still easier than being around the other Hero’s at Endevors agency. It’s not that they are mean, or anything negative. But you just don’t agree with a lot of them, their intentions for being hero’s. You’re left feeling alone, distant from the rest. And not being a fire quirk user, sure doesn’t help.

Your apartment is just steps away, and your speed picks up desperate to get out of the cold. Once inside you quickly make your way to your closet and change into your outfit for dinner with Natsuo. Standing in front of the tall mirror in your bedroom, looking over your perfectly picked outfit. You can’t help but smile, excited for the night. Reaching over to grab your phone sitting on your desk, the photo of you and Toya as children training together catches your attention. The hand that was meant to grab your phone, instead ghosted over to the frame that in capsules two smiling children. It was taken after his youngest brother, Shoto developed his quirk and all of Enjis attention was on Shoto. After that, Touya would train with you and your father on occasion. He was genuinely happy on those days. Away from his father, the constant reminder of his uncontrollable failure and the abuse. His laughter resonates in the back of your head as your memories carry his voice. But that laughter soon died out and turned into static noise. The ghastly single note rininging that scratches at your mind, leaving you feeling alone and numb.

Ding ding!

The new noise shakes you back and returns your thoughts to your surroundings. You phone is lit up with a notification from Natsuo.

5:55

Natsuo Todoroki:

Hey! I’m outside, let me in. It’s even too cold for me! >_<“

“Shit.”

You quickly spritzed yourself with some perfume and swiped on some deodorant and lip gloss just before rushing to unlock your front door. Taking in one final deep long breath, in any attempt to collect yourself as your hand hovers over the silver door handle. As you exhaled, you opened the door to see your white haired, silver eyed friend dressed in a gray button up, faded brown pants and his school jacket to keep him warm. Any signs of the ringing went away, your stress and exhaustion drift into the void at the sight of his smile.

“You look great!”

“Really? I feel like shit.”

“Let me guess, my dad?”

“Mmm... I came up with a new joke about him!” You close the door behind him and walk to the kitchen grabbing the cake.

“You’re jokes are terrible, Y/N.”

You whip around to shoot the poutiest face you can. Natsuo responded with rolling his eyes and telling you it’s fine. You’re eyes lit up into stars and your pout turned into a gleam.

“Endevor!? More like... END-ME-FOREVER! Am I right!?”

You can’t help just cackle at your own joke, feeling like one of those dads who always embarrasses his kids.

“Hoooly shit... on that note, it’s time to drink. Common, the driver is waiting.”

You grab the packed cake, sling on your coat and grab onto Natsuos arm. You two weren’t dating, you didn’t even have feelings for him. You saw him as family, always have. So latching onto his arm or giving him hugs was in your norm. It was second nature.

The restaurant wasn’t overly fancy, but wasn’t a hole in the wall either. It was quaint with not very many people inside. You both ordered Touyas favorite soba noodle dish- Zaru soba. He always preferred the chilled method over hot. Actually, he preferred all his food and drinks cold. You release a hushed giggle remembering all the times you had to put his food in the fridge for hours before he would actually eat it.

“What’s so funny?”

“I’m just remembering all the times Touya refused to eat his food while it was hot. Everything had to be chilled before he would like it.”

“Not even the ice quirk users in the family do that! It was so annoying- It drove me nuts sometimes! Sigh... but I miss it.”

“Mm, me too.”

A silence fell between the two, as you both played with your food a bit to distract the awkward tension.

“Oh! You had your finals this week, didn’t you?”

You finally spoke up and broke the silence. You have the ability to quickly recover your mood when it gets low, you’re also really good at remembering small details in conversations. You’re always asking about the stuff most others would have forgotten to ask.

“Ahh, man... I just started to forget all that! Haha, it’s okay. They went pretty good actually! Med school is a bitch. But I seem to be managing. I’ll probably need your help next semester with studying though.”

You watched Natsuo twirl around the noodles with a lazy smile on his face. It was clear his mind was hazed in thought. You gave him a light kick in his shin to get his attention. When he finally looked back up at you, he saw your warm comforting smile. Pink started to fill his cheeks ever so slightly.

“I know that look... do you want to talk about it?”

Natsuo stayed silent for a moment pondering your question.

“I just feel so guilty sometimes. I could have failed all my exams, and nothing would of happened to me. Big bro could fucking sneeze wrong and the asshat of a father would of snapped! It’s wasn’t fair for him.”

“No, it wasn’t fair. But it’s not fair for you either. Did Enji even congratulate you or give any praise for your accomplishments? No... You were both in the dark, just in different ways. Don’t forget, you matter too.”

Your last three words played on loop in his head. Those words filled him with warmth, the reminder he’s been needing. He could feel his heart beat a little louder, a little harder. A lump built in his throat as he thought about what to say next.

“Y/N... there is something else I feel guilty about. Something I need to tell you...”

Your head drooped to the side a bit in curiosity. You watched as he played with his hands in the smallest movements. How his face blushed deeper with each moment.

“Y/N.... I—“

The table suddenly vibrates from Natsuos phone. The rattling pulls both of yours and his attention away from each other. Natsuo clears his throat and apologizes just before turning his phone over to look at the notification. You can’t see his screen, but you notice how his face contorts into shock. You notice how his breath catches in his throat.

7:15

UNKNOWN

It’s happening tomorrow- a lot of shit is going to come out. Just be ready, and don’t tell anyone. No one. It’s for the best.

“Natsuo?”

“Ah, shit- sorry. It was just Fuyumi.”

“Everything okay? Should I be worried?”

“No no, everything is fine. It was just an update about mom. She’s fine! They were talking about releasing her for it bit to visit us. Anyways— I was about to say is that I really want this cake!”

“You’re guilty... about wanting to have this cake?”

“Uh, yeah- you know. Because it looks so good and Big Bro isn’t here to enjoy it?”

Of course you were a little suspicious, but you choose not to pry. Natsuo prefers to be private, and you can respect that.

The rest of the nights conversations were mostly carried by you. Natsuos mind was in other places. He simply picked at his cake, gave quiet short laughs under his breath- clearly fake. You tried to lighten the mood and brighten his spirit, but he was too distracted to allow his mind to rest.

By the time you both arrived back at your apartment, Natsuo walks to your door with your arm latched to his. He watches you fumble for your keys through your purse. Finally finding the small gold key hanging from a couple cute keychains, you unlock your door and let it swing open.

“Hey... if Touya was alive right now. What would you do? Obviously hypothetical.”

“Hmm... well... probably not work with Endevor. That’s for sure!”

Natsuo gives a single humm of agreement while looking at the chipping paint on the cement floor just outside your apartment door.

“But I guess I would just want to do whatever it took for him to be happy? He would deserve it.”

“Yeah... that’s what makes you so great. Goodnight, Y/N”

You crook your head to the side while giving a small wave as you watch Natsuos back drift further away. The end of the night got so weird. You kept thinking about what the text could have been to shifted his mood so much. Reached your arms far above your head, stretching out your muscles you give a heavy exhale and prepare for the night until slumber tucked you away from reality.

|| || ||

EMERGENCY

GRADE A VILLIAN ATTACK

REPORT TO RENDEZVOUS

The loud blaring from your phone stirred you awake. The alarming sound is set only for emergencies, which woken your instincts and shook you conscious. Your body moves on impulse. Your brushing your teeth, while putting on your suit, while gathering supplies all in one scrambling mess. Your dressed and ready in under 10 minutes, already on your (form of transportation) and rushing to meet up with your team. The roads are closed, allowing only emergency vehicles and heros. Even with the roads opened up to accommodate your unsafe speeds, it still took over an hour to arrive at the rendezvous.

Once you arrive, the first thing you do is tend to the wounded. You don’t even notice the crumbling buildings, the roads torn up, the army of heros. Your full attention immediately falls on those who need immediate medical attention. Luckily, it’s very few who are in such critical conditions and there is plenty of medical staff to tend to the minor injuries.

With a heavy sigh, you complete tending to those in need and head twords your team. You look around, seeing all heros gathering around and fighting. Smoke plumes the air, heavy debris scattered everywhere, the amount of noise is deafening. The air is heavy with a storm of different emotions. Being a support hero, you’re rarely in this level of action. Frankly- you haven’t even been paying much attention to the League of Villains. Or much of anything for your job. Guilt clouds your mind- this is just a job to you. You just do as your told and march like a puppet. But now surrounded by pain and suffering and all the hero’s giving everything they have to win- it becomes painfully clear that this just a job to you, but to them it’s their lives.

“Y/N!”

A familiar voice draws your attention, it’s another hero from Endevors agency. As your about to call out to him, the ground beneath you starts to violently shake. The grounds movement is beating like a drum sending vibrations up your legs. A loud roaring screams through the wind pulling everyone eyes twords the direction. A large stone looking beast is tearing through the city at unbelievable speeds for its chilling size. It’s direction is hurtling twords the center of the battle.

“Y/N! Go to Endevor right away!”

Your hate for Enji, your resentment on being forced into being a hero, your guilt for never being the hero your father wanted- it all disappears in a second. Your feet start running, following the bright light and heat of fire. The uneven ground beats on your ankles as the dusty air fills your lungs. It’s not long until you can see Endevors torn up body. His suit and armor is shredded up, his face is covered in blood and smoke pools out from his flesh. You take a large inhale, ready to scream at the top of your lungs.

“ENDEVOR!”

“Ohhh! There you are!”

Huh?

“From here you all look like a bunch of ants.”

You look up at the top of the beast as see one of the villains with black hair, covered in scars, wearing a long leather coat. Endevor reaching his hand up twords you, indicating to stay back. Your body halts like a dog taking commands.

“Ey! Shotos here too, huh? Wonderful! Long time no see!”

Hearing his voice causes the ringing to return. Your mind and heart fall heavy. The numbness deadened your body. It’s as if everything going on around you has flooded and you’re next to be swallowed up by the deep dark water.

“Dabi!”

Endevor calls out, your sure it was loud- but to you it sounded distant even with him only a few feet away.

“Aww, don’t be that way... why must you call me by my villain moniker?”

Bump bump

The hazy feeling dreading inside of you ripples with each heavy heart beat. You can hear your own beating. It was clearer than the rise of Endevors voice. With a few blinks back to reality- your sight falls onto Dabi. You notice as he reached into a small satchel attached to his belt as grabbing something. On instinct you brace your body for whatever he may be hiding. Out comes a small bottle which he unscrews and doused his head in the contained liquid.

Bump bump

The inky black color to his hair melts away exposing raidient white.

It can’t be...

“When I have such a respectable name...”

Bump bump

“Which is Touya!”

Silence. Nothing. Not even your own lungs can pull in air. Your heart halts as the familiar name cuts through your ears and infects your mind.

“Sure my face may have ended up like this...but I had hoped my own family would recognize me...”

Finally your lungs catch air and fill with life again. The numbness floods out of your body like a broken damn. It’s as if you have risen from the dead and where given a second chance to live. With each word Touya spoke it was like his essence pouring life back into you and carried you down to this world. You watched as he danced around mocking his father and brother- speaking of his past which you know so well. Listening carefully to everything he has to say.

“THE PAST NEVER DIES!”

Like a magnet, your body is being pulled to him. You start to finally move again, despite Endevor. Like fallen leaves being swepped up by wing and carried away, your rushing to Touya without control.

“Don’t! Y/N!”

Endevor notices you- he knows you too well. If you get a hold of Touya, it could very well be end game and Endevor knows it. You can see the crippling fear in his eyes and god is it beautiful. Touya shoots his glance as you and your both locked for a moment in each other’s eyes. Touyas mouth pulls into a grin- beckoning you to come.

Touyas attention goes back to his brother and father, more confident and determined as if you as well poured life back into his veins.

“Flashfire fist!”

Touya calls out as blue flames swirl around his body while he jumps down high up from the beast. The vivedly bold cyan blue flames which you adored as a child lights up the colors in your eyes. Energy zips through all your nerves as you run twords him. Each step is impatient and haphazard. Endevor tries to grab you, but you manage to avoid his grasp. Touya reaches out to you stretching every muscle far out trying to pull you to him. You do the same, despite the potential to burn.

“No!”

Endevors voice roars but his words fall of deaf ears. Finally, Touya is in your orbit. As the tips of your fingers connect to his, you turn a blind eye to your previous life.

Suddenly your body is snaps back and your once again without his touch. Your vision turns red with rage as you look down and notice navy blue wires digging around your waist. Looking up, you see Touya has been contained as well. You try to fight the wire, kicking and screaming- desperate to run to Touya. He sends another look your way and your frantic movements stop.

“Thanks, Y/N...”

Touya saying your name again was like a slice of heaven only you could consume. Just that brief moment of contact, the slightest touch to the tip of his finger- you poured everything it to that sliver of time. His flames grow brighter and hotter, his body takes less damage from his own quirk than its usual self destructive nature. His flames eat away at the binds which you discovered belonged to Best Jeanist. Finally he is free and is able to continue his brutal attacks to his enemies. Unfortunately the same could not be said about you. The jean wires still constricted around your arms and torso, cutting small lines into your flesh. Not that you minded... Touya was alive and free, that’s all that mattered. You silently cheered Touya on as you dangled above. You wanted justice for him, you wanted the true Endevor to be exposed to the world- cleaning this society of his falsity.

All around you something was happening. Members of the league of villains worked on getting free while trying to awaken their boss, Shigaraki. Various hero’s battled against Nomus, but you focused on just one. The battle between two Todoroki brothers. Touyas much stronger than when you were children, you’re not sure what’s his own strength or the support quirk of yours that boosted his abilities. Even from the distance that was force between you, his flames radiate intense heat that licks every inch of your skin. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you know a voice is telling you that you shouldn’t feel this way- that what is happening is wrong. But fuck- you have not felt this alive in so long. The heat is comforting, the rush is invigorating.

“You are not Endevor!!”

You look down at the young hero, Midoria, who is calling out to Touya. The fact children are in this war baffles you. Sickens you.

“Hhahahah! Anyone could figure that out!”

Touya laughed as the obvious statement from the child speaking on a subject he clearly has no part in. No shit he’s not Endevor. Touya has always been genuine about himself, while Enji wears a mask of lies to his fans but carries bloodied knuckles at his family.

A loud roaring fills the area, the same call of action that you heard earlier. The giant awakens and rises up from the ground- shredding Best Jeanist strong binds as his strength pulls apart the threads. Your own shackles loosen, allowing you to drop back to the ground. You land on both feet, but the weight of gravity drops you to the dirt. Your head snaps up and looks around for blue flames. When your sight falls onto the familiar scarred face, Touya gives you a single nod and a cunning smile. You rise up from the ground and rush to his side, doing your best to avoid any hero’s or falling debris. You rush past Endevor where you notice he has fallen unconscious. You don’t even give a single thought to save him, not even sparing a second glance.

“Sorry Shoto, the situations changed.”

Touya gives one final gruesome blow at his younger brother, which renders Shoto unconscious. Touya looks back your way and helps to close the distance between the two of you. As soon as your in his reach, his left arm wraps around your waist and pulls you into his side. He smells of char, cigarettes and a hint sandlewood. You bask for a moment in the unique auroma.

“Come, Dabi!”

One of his comrades call out, directly him twords the rest of the villains. Touyas grip tightens around you, he pulls you as tight as your physical bodies would allow. His piercing cyan eyes that match his flames so perfectly well soften as they linger on your features. A smile equally as soft paints his face followed by a single wink.

“Let’s go, doll.”

#dabi #bnha dabi #mha dabi #dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #touya todoroki #Todoroki

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americasass81 · 3 years

Text

Make Her Mine - Chapter Eight

Warnings:- 18+, Dark theme, Smut, Dubious Consent, Non-Consensual Sex, Brief Mention of Spanking, Oral (male receiving). Do not read if any of these warnings are upsetting. Feedback is welcomed.

This contains adult themes and by proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

Word Count:- 2,571

Sitting you down at the dining table in the crypt, as you now called this place, Tony washed his hands and began moving seamlessly around the kitchen preparing what you assumed was pasta, again. You thought about trying to talk to him, but whenever you opened your mouth, no words came out. Eventually you took to taking small glances in his direction until he finally had enough. "Darling let us have a quiet dinner and then I promise, we will try to resolve everything. Okay?"

"Sure." you replied, staring at the table before returning your gaze to him. "Um Tony, is there anything I can help you with?"

"Yeah, I guess. Do you want to set the table while I finish the meatballs?" he smiled, moving effortlessly from one task to the next.

Getting up, you joined him in the kitchen and went about removing the necessary plates and cutlery before placing them where they were needed. Retrieving the wine glasses proved a more difficult task however when you discovered you were unable to reach the cabinet overhead which housed them.

"Here, allow me darling." Thinking that Tony was coming to your rescue, you let out a squeal when he placed his hands on your waist and easily lifted you up to reach them. "How about we leave these two down for the duration of our time here?" he suggested as he lowered you gently back on your feet.

"Would make more sense I suppose. Though since I'm no longer allowed wine, does it matter what I drink out of?" you mused as you stepped aside to allow him to continue the meal prep and carried the glasses to the table.

Eventually walking after you, Tony allowed you to set down the glasses before taking your hand in his. "Okay, so the meatballs are in the oven, ready to go and V.I.R.G.I.L. can now take over while we get cleaned up. Shall we N/Y?" Reluctantly following him to the master bedroom, you hoped that the incentive of dinner would be enough to keep his hands off you.

Thankfully it seemed your worries were unfounded however when Tony simply ushered you into the shower and proceeded to gently wash every inch of you. Then stepping out and wrapping a luxurious towel around each of you, the shocks continued when he opened the double doors to the closet and led you inside. "I'd like you to make an effort for dinner, but honestly if you don't feel like it, I understand. Just have a look around and see if something catches your eye." With that he walked to the other side, picked out a complete suit and returned to the bedroom, leaving you alone.

Moving along what you assumed was your half of the walk-in, it still surprised you that you could be shocked by the discovery that all the clothing here were in your size. Kitted out like a well stocked department store, albeit a high-end one, you planned on something casual until your fingers skimmed over a light grey silk dress. Taking it down and looking it over, you told yourself you could never pull it off, but placed it in front of you before the mirrored wall all the same. Hearing Tony inform you that you had about twenty minutes, you threw caution to the wind, found the matching shoes along with a dusky pink set of lingerie and dressed in record time.

Walking out into the bedroom, Tony turned around at the sound of your presence and the look he shot you, turned you on and made you uncomfortable in equal measure. "My god darling, I thought you were beautiful that night in the restaurant, but now you're a vision. That is most definitely your color." Dropping your eyes towards the floor as he came over to stand beside you, Tony kissed your cheek and looked at his watch before raising your chin to face him. "Ready to go eat, my love?"

"Actually yes. I am kinda hungry." you answered while trying unsuccessfully to maneuver out of his tender hold.

"Don't do that Y/N. Don't hide from me . . . or the world." he requested, as he took your hand and led you back to the dining table. Pulling out your chair, you quickly sat and enjoyed the wonderful aroma permeating around the place while Tony got to work plating up the meal. Placing it on the table along with water for both of you, you noticed, he too sat down as you tucked into the most delicious spaghetti and meatballs you could ever remember eating.

Having enjoyed the meal in companionable silence, Tony rose from the table but refused to let you help as he cleared up. "Thank you Tony, that was amazing. But if you don't mind me asking, where did you learn to cook?"

Laughing at the question, he turned around to face you as he finished off his water. "Y/N, despite what everyone thinks, I don't actually have a bunch of servants who do everything for me. I'm quite capable of looking after myself and those I care about."

Not missing this little remark, you turned back towards the table and tried to get your thoughts and feelings in order while Tony finished up what he was doing. You were however afforded a bit more time when his phone rang and the conversation indicated that Steve was on the other end. Suspicious as to why Stave was asking questions about a woman he had probably only glimpsed once outside the office, Tony stuck to the 'employee being treated on the company health plan' script before finishing up the conversation. Looking your way while realizing that Steve might not be as gullible or loyal as he thought, he knew now more than ever that he needed to make you his.

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

Putting away his phone and walking over to join you at the table, his heart broke a little when you pulled your hand back before he had a chance to take hold of it. Sighing deeply as he thought how best to approach the situation between you, he decided for now he would try to avoid bringing up the fact that you had attempted to kill him not once, but twice.

Taking his seat, you looked up to see him press something on his wristwatch before he lifted his head to look at you. "I've disabled the shock feature on your nanoparticles. Now, if you promise not to try anything, perhaps we can discuss our future without any extra fear on your part. How about you tell me simply why you fear being with me."

Thinking through your situation, coupled with what little you knew about Iron-Man, the Avengers and the slew of enemies lurking around every corner, you checked Tony's demeanor before standing up, moving over to the couch and getting comfortable. Sighing as he sat down next to you, but acknowledging that you seemed to be thinking, he reluctantly kept his mouth shut until you were ready to finally talk. Setting aside everything that had happened and could still happen, as well as all the feelings threatening to swallow you whole, you instead set your analytical mind to the task before you.

Thinking back on why you first rejected his advances, you accepted that both his loose morals and your own views on love and relationships was reason enough to steer clear of the egotistical playboy. Added to that his life as an Avenger and the deck was clearly never in his favor. However, a small part of you had to admit that being easy on the eyes, coupled with his oh so numerous skillful body parts, meant that falling for him wouldn't be the hardest task in the world. It was simply a matter of how much you wanted it. Then of course there was the monumental task of getting away from him if you so chose.

After two unsuccessful attempts, you wondered if you even had it in you to finish him off, but you knew as long as he still had breath in him, you would never be free of the iron avenger. That just left you relying on your mob friendship and you had to wonder if they really stood a chance against the world famous heroes. Feeling the exhaustion of everything that had happened, along with the weight of what was to come, you looked towards Tony to see him watching you apprehensively as the minutes you deliberated ticked by. Finally accepting that when you played ball he tended to give you the benefit of the doubt and so you could only hope that given enough time you could use that to your advantage, while dealing with whatever consequences said timeframe created.

Catching his knee bouncing with irritation, you figured it was probably time to let your inner musings out. Turning to him, you quickly reiterated your earlier statement about being his flavor of the month and lifting your hand to shush his evident interruption, continued to confess your fears about his superhero lifestyle.

Taking your hands in his, he reaffirmed that everything about you, from your cheeky, defiant attitude to the dangerous streak you kept directed towards him, was more than enough to keep him faithful. He also promised that if you remained by his side, given enough time and trust, he would be only too happy to hand over the nanoparticle armor he designed for you the first night you slept under this roof.

Letting his words sink in and making a silent wish that you survived long enough to take possession of the promised armor, you kept your expression neutral as you launched yourself across the couch and crashed your lips against his. Feeling his goatee tickle your chin as your tongues wrestled with each other, you pulled back slightly when your lungs cried out for air.

"Am I to take that as offer accepted, darling?" Tony asked, as he pulled your body closer against his strong frame, a glorious smile evident on his face.

"Take it as I'm willing to give this a try and see how things go." you replied and in the next instance, Tony's skillful hands had unzipped your dress and dropped it off your shoulders.

Moaning at the lacy pink material, because there was no way it could be called a bra, barely concealing your gorgeous tits, he looked up at you with lust-filled eyes and his next words took you completely by surprise. "Tell me I can make love to you darling. Please." he begged and as you realized this was the first time he had asked your permission, it finally hit you just how much power you might actually hold over him.

Feeling the now usual, yet powerful, tingling sensation deep in your core, the shocks continued coming as you nodded your head and allowed Tony to have his way with you. Leaning forward to kiss your lips, his tongue snaked out to dance with yours but didn't linger before moving down to place soft wet trails along your neck. Giving yourself over to the tune he was pulling from your body, a deep groan left your throat as Tony's mouth latched onto part of your exposed breast and he bit down just enough to send shockwaves rushing south towards your aching sex. Writhing against him as he then ran his tongue across the area to soothe the sting, affording the same treatment to the other breast had you cursing his level of self control as you silently wished for him to fuck you senseless.

As it was, you refused to give voice to this particular desire, and instead simply reached out, grabbed hold of his hair and brought his sinfully skillful mouth back to yours. Kissing him with both a passion and hunger you never knew you possessed, your body emitted a squeal as he rose from the couch with you secured in his powerful arms and walked you back in the direction of the master bedroom. Losing your dress somewhere along the way as your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, you looked at him in complete frustration as he dropped your now almost naked form on the bed while he stood before you, fully clothed.

Looking down on you as your eyes pleaded with him to join you in a state of undress, his eyes tightened as they roamed over your heaving form while his gaze focused with pin-point accuracy on your heels. Leaning forward, his hands took hold of your right leg and removed the shoe before moving to the left. Kicking your legs out in pure frustration, Tony couldn't help laughing at the pout that now settled on your features.

Stepping closer still while removing his jacket, his lips found yours again before resting his head against your forehead. "Don't pout Y/N, good things come to all in time." and with that he moved back and winked at you before slowly and teasingly unbuttoning his white dress shirt. Licking your lips as more and more flesh appeared before you, you still couldn't figure out why this man wanted to be yours. Tossing the shirt across the room while removing his shoes, your thoughts were pulled back to the present as his weight between your legs caused the bed to dip and your eyes to lock with his.

"Want to unwrap your package, darling?" he smirked and even you couldn't stifle the laugh that erupted past your lips as you joined him on your knees. Reaching forwards, your trembling fingers closed on his belt only to be stalled when his hands rested over yours. "Take your time Y/N, neither one of us is going anywhere."

Licking your lips while looking up at him, you nodded, before unbuckling his belt, undoing the button and deftly slipping down the zipper. Placing your fingers along the waistband, you pushed his pants down to his knees as his hand reached forward, cupped your chin and kissed you passionately while your hands found their way into his boxers. Placing them firmly over his ass, his breath hitched against your mouth as you squeezed hard. "Fuck me darling, you're too good at that." he panted, and even you had to admit the praise was kind of intoxicating.

Continuing to knead and pinch the firm flesh, you deftly maneuvered one hand around the front and taking hold of his warm, semi-hard cock, you coaxed the most delicious sounds from the world's most eligible bachelor as your hand worked him up and down. Then somehow managing to use one hand to nudge down his boxers, you marveled at your hand wrapped around his shaft as creamy precum made it's home against your palm.

Moving your hand down to massage his sac as your head bent forward, Tony's knees began to shake while your tongue started to lick the vein on the underside of his cock. Finally gaining control of his facilities, he caught hold of you and tossed you on your back before moving forward between your legs. Looking down at you through hooded eyes, he smacked your thigh playfully before placing a soft kiss against your panties. Then rising from the bed, he fully divested himself of his clothes, before smirking over at you saying, "You've had your fun darling. Now it's my turn."

Tagging:- @nsfwsebbie @hoseokchild @gotnofucks @ironlady1993 @floatingdaisy7 @taintedgenre @buttercandy16 @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay , sorry if I missed anyone.

#dark!tony stark x reader

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pishufics · 4 years

Text

study date(s)

"Bertholdt knows that he needs to start trying. It’s junior year, and he’d rather not stay stuck in the same class next year as a senior. If he fails the next test, he’s in some shit. So, he's going to ask you for help."

pairing - bertholdt hoover x reader

tags - high school au, fluff, humor, texting

warnings - none

author’s note - this was just a one shot but i kept writing lol it kind of switches between you and bertholdt, but i don't directly say his thoughts, it's kind of like 2nd person omniscient if that's even a thing LOL

lmk how the texting reads, i'll change it if it's weird

reblogs and comments are appreciated ! mwah

ao3

chapter 1 - two days

reinah: I swear if you don’t just ASK her

Do you want to be held back?

bertoto: relax okay i’ll do it :(

r: Okay, okay

Lmk how it goes

b: i never said i was asking today

Bertholdt sighs and locks his phone once he sees Reiner start to type a reply.

Bertholdt is struggling with English, which surprises him. He’s a good student in every other class, but the moment Mr. Ackermann starts talking, he finds himself dozing off, missing the lecture. Recently, though, he’s awake in class, but still not paying attention. All his focus is on you, who sat in the middle of the classroom while he sat in the back, due to his height (he didn’t really mind, though; better chance of not getting caught asleep).

One day, due to some miraculous occurrence, the short, stern teacher actually had the boy’s attention, but not for long.

“Does anyone have number three?” Mr. Ackermann asked. Bertholdt definitely didn’t. He hoped someone would raise their hand so the teacher wouldn’t resort to calling a random name.

To his relief, you did.

“I think what the author was trying to convey was…”

Bertholdt didn’t really get what you were saying, but he admired your intelligence. You knew the material and could explain it in detail, while he couldn’t even recall the book's name in question.

He started to admire more of your traits - he gazed as you would lightly, but briskly, tap your foot in frustration when you didn’t know an answer and smile at the way your face relaxed when you finally got it. Seeing your motivation in class kickstarted his.

Bertholdt knows that he needs to start trying. It’s junior year, and he’d rather not stay stuck in the same class next year as a senior. If he fails the next test, he’s in some shit.

So, he's going to ask you for help.

...Tomorrow.

“Girl, I don’t have any more fucking gum. I drove up to Costco, bought the value sized pack, and you somehow managed to chew all of it.” You say exasperatedly, shutting your locker.

Sasha pouts. “Are you sureeee? There’s prolly half a stick left in your front pocket…”

You swat her hand away. “There’s. Nothing. Left. I promise.” She continues to stare at your bag.

“Fuckin-” You mutter, reaching into your bag and pulling out a snack-size bag of Cheezits. They’re one of your favorite snacks, but you know you can’t win when it comes to Sasha and food. You reluctantly hand the bag to her.

“Thanks, y/n!” She smiles and tears open the bag.

“Yknow, you can be annoying as shit, Sasha.”

She winks at you and eats her stolen prize. You turn to leave and head to 3rd period. English.

Hm. You’re usually greeted by your other best friend around now-

“Yeoooo!!” Oh, there he is. Connie daps you up before wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “What’s good?”

“I don’t really wanna go to 3rd," you answer. "Sasha stole my Cheezits."

“Does anyone really wanna go to any class? And that's your fault, you know you can't bring food without Sasha's fatass taking it,” Connie replies, and Sasha punches his shoulder.

“Okay, I know...have you started studying for the test?”

He blankly stares at you. Guess not. You have the same teacher, but different periods, so you can’t keep an eye on him.

“Nevermind. I’ll see y’all later.” You throw up a peace sign and head in the opposite direction.

It’s not like you’re bad at English, but you just don’t like school in general. You go to class to get your participation grade, then go home.

There might be another reason you tolerate 3rd period, though, and it isn’t the professor. (He is pretty fine, but he's an adult, so you don’t let your thoughts escalate).

Mr. Ackermann didn’t like assigning things online, so most of the work in this class was on paper, contrasting your other classes where everything was digital. Kind of annoying, but you’ve learned to deal with it.

You mainly use mechanical pencils because you hate the way wooden ones write, but one day, to your slight dismay, you forgot them at home. Just your luck.

There’s a container of pencils and a sharpener in the back of the classroom, so you stand up to go retrieve one and notice a tall boy asleep in a desk not too far back from yours.

Bertholdt Hoover.

You knew him, of course. You find it a little rude to not know your classmates' names; you’ve dealt with numerous “who?”s in previous years and don’t want to put anyone through that, so you make sure to pay attention during introductions.

You chuckle at sight. The class has barely even started, and the guy is already dozing. In an awkward position, at that. One of his long legs is across the other, cramped underneath the desk. His head was laying on his right arm with his left against his hair. You thought to wake him up, but he looked so peaceful, you couldn't bring yourself to do it, plus, it's not your business. Mr Ackermann somehow didn't notice either, so Bertholdt always had a good rest in 3rd period English.

Every time you walked into class, you checked to see what weird position he would be sleeping in. You found yourself looking forward to it- he looked kinda cute when he was sleeping- but he stopped one day. You were a little disappointed, but glad to know that he was starting to pay attention in class. You still glanced at him as you walked in- he's a pretty attractive guy. No harm in just looking...

You shrug your backpack off and sit at your desk, stretching your legs out a bit. The walk from your locker to this classroom was kind of far. You reach into your bag, get your mechanical pencil out, and wait for Mr Ackermann to pass out the first assignment.

Just then, you hear someone walk up to your desk, and you glance over.

‘Oh, it’s Bertholdt. I don’t think we’ve ever spoken.’ You feel your face heat up, wondering what he wanted from you.

“Hey, y/n…” He nervously starts.

“Hey. Need something?”

“Yeah, actually...about the upcoming test.”

You hum in curiosity. “What about it?”

He clears his throat. “I’m lowkey failing this class, and if I mess up this test, I’ll have to retake this class next year. Do you think you could, uh…”

Bertholdt inhales in an attempt to calm himself down. It doesn’t really work.

“Could you help me study?” Phew. He managed to get it out pretty well and made a mental note to give himself a pat on the back later. But he hasn’t fully succeeded yet; you still need to agree.

You weren't opposed to the idea. You kind of figured he would be struggling in class a bit since he used to sleep all the time. It’s alright with you, and you wouldn’t mind a potential new friend. Sasha and Connie were exhausting at times.

“Yeah, sure. When?” You pause. “Actually, just text me.” You hold out your hand, asking for his phone.

Bertholdt was practically shaking in his sneakers as he reached into his pocket and handed you his unlocked phone with the contacts app open. You actually agreed! And you were giving him your number! Reiner was going to be so proud, he smiled to himself.

As you type in your info, you appreciate the cleanliness of his phone. That shows you that he’s at least hygienic.

“Aight. Here you go,” you return his device. “See you later.” You smile.

Bertholdt can’t believe this is happening.

Mr Ackermann’s voice interrupts his thoughts. “Oi, Hoover. Sit down.”

Startled, he jumps back a bit at the sudden acknowledgement. He was focused on you and tuned everything else out.

“Sorry, sir.” Bertholdt gives you a quick grin and turns to go back to his desk. Once he sits, he looks down at the new contact:

y/n :)

xxx-xxx-xxxx

Bertholdt can’t help but smile. Just seeing your name and number on his screen made him giddy, and he thought that the smiley face you added was adorable.

His thoughts are interrupted yet again, but not by the teacher. He looks down at his phone, which just buzzed.

| Messages

reinah

Did you do it yet bruh

Good timing. Bertholdt taps on the notification and goes to type a reply, but decides to send him a screenshot of your contact…with your number scribbled out. Reiner was a flirt, and he didn’t want to risk anything.

r: YOOOOOOOOOO HOLY SHIT U ACTUALLY DID IT

Bertholdt rolls his eyes and puts his phone in his backpack. He was going to pay attention- for real - today. He didn't want to seem too clueless when you tutored him.

“Can anyone tell me what rhetorical strategy is being used here?” Mr. Ackermann asked.

Bertholdt certainly could not. But that was changing soon, with your help.

“Okaay, we got Ms. Tutor over here now,” Sasha smiles in between bites of a burger.

“Do you even know how to, like, teach, though?” Connie gives you a skeptical look.

“It prolly isn’t too hard. All I gotta do is help him study. If he needs help understanding a concept, I’ll just explain it,” you defend yourself. “We still have two weeks. Ion mind making flashcards or something.”

“You’re getting into it, huh?” Sasha laughs.

Your face heats in embarrassment. “Girl, you know it isn’t like that.”

“And why not? You’re always bitching about how lonely you are. High school isn’t gonna last forever…” she replies.

“I have no recollection of saying anything like that.” You glare. But she isn’t exactly wrong. You’d like to experience the “high school romance” you’ve heard so much about, and Bertholdt is pretty cute. It’s not like dating is a significant concern, though.

“I’m always here as an option, y/n,” Connie winks as he takes a sip of his soda.

“Hell nah.”

Across the cafeteria, Bertholdt is trying to eat a sandwich, but Reiner won’t leave him alone. He was right about Reiner being proud, but Bertholdt almost forgot how persistent the jock could get.

“I didn’t think you had the balls, dude. I was ready to see English 3 on your schedule again next year,” He grins, arm around his taller friend's shoulders.

“...Can I eat?” Bertholdt sighs and shrugs his friend away.

“Have you texted her yet? What day are you gonna hang out with her? You gonna bring her anything? Flowers or somethin’? Girls like that kinda stuff.”

Bertholdt didn’t really think that was true.

“First off, no, not yet. I need to see when I can actually go. Second, no, I am not bringing her anything. I didn’t say it was a date. She’s going to help me study.”

“Fine, man. At least try to seem more interesting, yknow, so she can like...be interested in you.”

“Are you saying I’m boring? Ouch,” He jokingly pouts and rolls his eyes at Reiner’s double usage of ‘interesting.’

“You said it, not me.”

“Okay, I don’t wanna hear that from you...if it came from Annie, then I’d believe it.” Bertholdt looks in the blonde’s direction. She took a bite from her burger, looked up from her phone, and shrugged.

“Damn, for real?” Bertholdt sinks. He didn’t think he was that dull. He did lots of interesting stuff, like…

Like…

Bertholdt sighs in defeat.

“It’s fine. Maybe y/n likes boring,” Bertholdt huffs, taking another bite from his sandwich.

“Yeah, okay, keep telling yourself that and see where it gets you…” Reiner mumbles.

“Come again?”

“Nothing, man…”

School's been over for an hour or two. You’re aimlessly scrolling through your phone when you feel a buzz, and glance towards the top of the screen.

| Messages

xxx-xxx-xxxx

hey

it’s bertholdt 😁

where should we meet up?

Your heart starts to beat a little faster. ‘Relax, girl… don't act like he's asking you out or something,’ you tell yourself.

y/n: hey!

how abt the library?

+ what day/ time works for you?

You add his number to your contacts as you wait for his response.

bertholdt :^)

is saturday at 3 okay?

y/n: yep

do you need a ride or anything?

b: no, but thank you

see you then ☺️

y/n: alrighty :)

You smile at his use of emojis, send what he requested, then swipe down on your screen to check the day (what? It's normal to forget sometimes.) Wednesday. Two days.

You feel like it would be awkward to study with Bertholdt considering you aren’t really friends, so you decide to text him a little more so it isn't too bad when the day arrives.

----

“See? That wasn’t so hard!” Reiner exclaims. “You could’ve tried to talk to her more, but it went good!”

“I think it would’ve been weird if I did say anything else. Best to leave it at that…” Bertholdt exclaims, trying to calm himself down. He had two days.

He wonders what he should do now. Study so he could impress you? Do something to make himself seem more interesting? What would he even do...?

Bertholdt taps back onto the conversation to reread it for the 6th time. Was there anything he could’ve said different? Should he try asking you someth-

Oh, wait-? You’re typing?

“Oh shit- Dude, she’s saying something else. What do I do?” He begins to panic. Did you suddenly decide he wasn’t worth your time? Were you cancelling?

y/n: sooo

how’s your day been?

Whaaaaaatttt?? You actually...care to ask?

Bertholdt stared at his phone in surprise.

“What’d she say? Cmon! Don’t just look, dude!”

“She...asked how my day’s been-”

“-You gotta reply now! You were on the chat when she said it, so she knows you’ve read it!” Reiner urges.

Shit. He doesn't have enough time to think of a good reply.

good, but better since i’m texting you 😉|

The hell? No, that’s weird. And too soon. He tries again...

pretty good, thanks!

kinda stressing over the test, haha

how’s your day going?

There we go. He twiddles his thumbs as he waits for your reply.

y/n :)

oh, dw, it’ll be fine !

my day was okay

sasha took my last bag of cheez its :(

b: ah, i'm sorry abt that :(

+ yeah, you're right

have you as my tutor :)

“Nice job man! That was...kinda flirty? You’ll get there!” Reiner ruffles his hair in encouragement, and Bertholdt shoos him away. He stares at his phone in anticipation. Was that too much?

----

i have you as my tutor :)

You lean your head on your pillow and feel your face heat up at the compliment ( was that a compliment?)

It’s not like you’re dumb, so he’s not wrong to think that. Your lips curl into a smile as you reread the message. But how do you reply? Should you compliment him back? You don’t really know.

if you’re saying i’m smart, thank you :))

hoping that wasn't sarcasm lol

You wait a minute, and he doesn’t reply, so you decide to ask another question.

is there anything specific you wanna focus on?

You cringe at the double texting, but hope that it doesn't make him think you're weird. You swipe away from the conversation and scroll on various apps as you wait.

b: ofc it wasn’t sarcasm, you're really smart, y/n!

i'm mainly struggling with rhetorical strategies and logical fallacies, but i could

use a general review too

if that's okay with you

You bury your almost overheating face into your pillow. Why is something like that getting you flustered, you wonder. You sit up, take a deep breath, and focus on the second part of his message. You're pretty good with what he needs work on, and a general review should be easy to put together.

y/n :) okay, we can focus on the first 2 on saturday

we can review the unit on other days

see you at school:)

At this point, you really don’t know how this conversation could go any further, so you ended it. Bertholdt returns your goodbye.

You exhale and sit up in your bed. Hopefully tutoring him won’t be too awkward now that you’ve spoken to him a bit, and there's still tomorrow at school to speak to him. You find yourself excited for the study date tutoring session, since you could get your homework done too.

"Two days," you smile.

#bertholdt x reader #bertholdt hoover #bertolt hoover #bertolt fubar #high school au #texting #aot #attack on titan #shinkegi no kyojin #bertholdt fubar #ao3 #fanfic

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