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gale-gentlepenguin · 3 years

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ML Fic: Soulmate Survey Part 36

Sorry about the delay. But now its here and its ready for consumption.

Also, Shout to @asongeverlasting for beta reading for me and making sure I actually got this out.

Check her writing out on AO3 as ShamelesslyRomantic,

(Master post)

(Read the fic in a more condensed on Ao3)

_____________________________________________________________

“Finished,” the artist akuma stated as he addressed his master.

Masquerade got up from her throne to look at the room. The classroom had been transformed into a rather spacious throne room. The artist had erased and redrawn walls to ensure the room was much larger. This new space also had several large windows adorned with elegant black and white curtains hanging from the top. Reflekta servants decked out in masquerade themed armor stood at attention on each step leading to her throne. Beautiful artwork of her decorated the walls, including an imposing portrait of her behind her throne that made it look as if she was looking down at everyone looking up at it. To her that came off as self-interested yet tasteful. The masked akuma even loved the addition of a red carpet that led up to her throne.

“This is quite satisfactory, Evillustrator. Just be sure to reinforce the walls of the room then head to the roof and locate Simularé. I want this place to be a fortress,” Masquerade ordered

“Understood,” the akuma nodded, his expression unreadable from the white face mask. He quickly headed to the door out of the room and Stone heart was guarding the door with his large frame and had to let the artist out.

“Gamer! Robostus! Status report!”

“We have made it so we could hack into every screen in Paris that is connected to the internet, as per your request,” the Gamer responded in monotone.

Masquerade smiled at that.

“Excellent. Do we have the cameras ready?”

The Reflekta copies near the robot akuma were being outfitted with recording gear.

“Affirmative, we will be ready to go live at your request.”

The masked akuma smiled at that news, she turned her attention to Princess Fragrance and the original Reflekta, who had just finished turning the last of the captured individuals into obedient copies of her.

“Has everyone in the school been rounded up and handled?”

“Dark Cupid and Reverser are doing a final sweep of any runaway stragglers. Stormy weather is going around flooding and freezing any empty hallways to flush out any that are hiding. There are Reflekta copies guarding the blocked off exits should anyone try and escape. But over 96% of the student body has been accounted for and 99% of all Faculty.” Princess Fragrance answered.

‘The missing ones are likely Marinette and Adrien. Those two never did make anything easy for me, did they? But it didn’t matter, their luck would run out soon enough. Once Ladybug and Chat noir were handled, then I could focus on making them pay,’ Masquerade grinned to herself.

She could picture how it would be, finding them and seeing their desperate faces as they realized that no hero would be able to save them. The first thing she would do was show them both her little empire. They thought she was bad when she had the school wrapped around her finger, they will be mortified when they see Paris. She would have all their friends and family captured, their best friends leading the cruel treatment of the rest. This would have them in tears and begging for mercy.

She did once consider letting Adrien be her boyfriend, with some perfume to sway him. He would have been a perfect boytoy to taunt Marinette with, but Masquerade realized how far above him she was now. She didn’t need him anymore, and truthfully, he was just as bad as Marinette, if not worse. Marinette had the audacity to dislike her and challenge her, but Adrien, he was so condescending, acting like she should be better than her actions. She could swear she saw pity in his eyes, and that was so much worse.

Though she wasn’t completely heartless, if they begged to be her personal servants and apologized for standing against her, then maybe she would let them have some mercy. Having Marinette clean up after her and make those admittedly delicious baked goods would be nice and having Adrien wait on her hand and foot like a personal butler would be quite fun. Maybe they would think if they did a good enough job their families would suffer less.

She did want to daydream about that idea more but she knew that she needed to focus on the present.

“Alright, Let’s start moving to stage 2. Gamer! I want a comprehensive list of every akuma victim outside of the school. Robostus! Make sure the cameras and broadcast are ready when I tell you. I want everything to go off without a hitch.”

“Affirmative!” Gamer and Robostus responded in equal robotic unison.

“Reflekta! Princess Fragrance! After all of the copies pick up the stragglers, I want you scanning the area for Ladybug and Chat noir. Bubbler and Lady Wifi… wait. I think I remember something.”

She paused to check her charm, she noticed the question mark charm and touched it, allowing her to focus and see what akuma it was.

“Cancel that order, remain on standby unless we get approached.”

“Yes… so this is what that voice meant by merging. How very interesting. I think I will let that new akuma keep its directive. Ladybug and Chat noir will have no chance of beating...”

An akuma merged with Lady Wifi, Bubbler and Oblivio. Combined to make something new. Something that she knew even the heroes would have trouble fighting.

“Deadzone.” Masquerade said with a devilish grin.

______________________________________________________________________________

Ladybug and Chat Noir made their way down the hall. They easily dealt with a few Reflekta clones without much effort and continued moving.

They were expecting to see more akuma lurking about, but strangely, the halls they were walking down were all either empty or only covered by Reflekta duplicates.

“Masquerade likely has her stronger forces consolidating after bringing in as many people to her as they could. Those that didn’t hit the mark likely got turned into the copies we bumped into.” Ladybug answered.

“That does explain why they were singing, like when Princess Fragrance made servants,” the cat hero added.

“This might be our only time to catch a break before confronting her.”

“So, since we have time, do you mind if I ask if you're free to go on Patrol tonight?” the cat hero casually inquired.

Ladybug stopped.

“Tonight? That is quite sudden. Plus, we still don’t know how this will play out.” Ladybug gestured to the school.

“Well I am going to assume we stop the akuma and save the day like always.” Chat noir commented. “Call it a safe bet, but we usually win.”

“Always the positive outlook, Chaton. I’m glad you have so much faith in us despite our numbers disadvantage.”

“You said it yourself, most of the servants are pushovers or just puppets. The only real threat is Lila. And we have faced worse."

“True, but not anything this sinister,” Ladybug tacked on.

“Didn’t we fight Hawkmoth a couple of months back?” Chat noir asked with a twinge of confusion. Was Ladybug implying what he thought she was?

Ladybug held her tongue.

“You’re kidding right? You think Lila is eviler than Hawkmoth!” Chat Noir exclaimed in shock.

“No no no! Not eviler … just a bit cleverer than him,” Ladybug confessed.

Chat noir looked at his partner skeptically, but then considered her words.

“She is manipulative. Considering even without being akumatized she has done some rather twisted stuff. But thinking she is evil is a bit much. Especially when there is someone responsible for forcing emotionally vulnerable people to do his bidding,” Chat noir pointed out.

“Isn’t that what she is doing right now?”

“Yes, but she was akumatized. If we started blaming people for their actions as akuma we would have to throw innocent people in jail.”

“Right… but you read that article on the Ladyblog right? She could be more than just a victim of Hawkmoth, she could be an ally.”

The Cat hero thought about it more but was still not entirely convinced.

“I guess underestimating her would be dumb, but maybe she isn’t completely evil. I mean Chloé ended up showing a bit of humanity and did some good, maybe Lila is capable of it too.”

The crimson clad heroine smiled a bit.

“That’s what I like about you, Chat, you always focus on the good in others.”

The black clad hero gave a Cheshire grin.

“When it comes to the team, you’re the brains, and I’m the sidekick who brings the smiles and the heartfelt speeches.”

“You aren’t my sidekick, Chat Noir, we are partners. And you could be the brains too, if you would use yours outside of pun making.” Ladybug playfully bonked his noggin.

The cat chuckled at the playful teasing.

“Fair enough, but I can’t help it if I FELINE making a quip.”

Ladybug could feel herself groan at the lame joke.

“I take it back… you are the sidekick,” Ladybug deadpanned, her tone of mock annoyance causing the cat to chuckle.

“Alright I’ll…” He stopped speaking as he noticed something was amiss.

Chat Noir’s left ear twitched. He heard approaching footsteps.

“We better get moving, this abandoned hallway isn’t going to be so abandoned in a minute.”

“More Reflekta clones?”

Chat Noir extended the staff to the ground, his face showing a sudden sternness.

“No… Winter is coming.”

______________________________________________________________________________

Viperion peered through the door of the locker room.

“Clear.”

The snake and dragon heroes entered with their akuma prisoner.

“Pick a locker and let’s toss her in,” Ryuuko commented as she held the squirming akuma.

The two paused their movement when they heard a rustling in the lockers.

“Do you hear that?” Viperion questioned.

“How could I not?” Ryuuko replied.

Just as the two stared at the rustling lockers. The two shaking lockers doors flew off their hinges.

And stepped out an akuma that neither hero recognized.

“I don’t remember seeing that akuma before,” Ryuuko stated.

“Neither do I, but it seems vaguely familiar,” Viperion responded.

As the Akuma was gathering its bearings, the heroes tried to gauge its powers. It had broad shoulders that had spherical, dark purple balls around them, which were connected to tight black sleeves with 3 white circular stripes at the end that ended at his wrists. Its left hand had a fingerless black glove which showed its skin akin to a purple silhouette. The other hand was what appeared to be a black laser canon with a phone attached to it. On its back was a large red, purple and black pipe which seemed to act as a holster to a blue bubble wand. Its face was obscured by a large white theater mask much like all the other akuma. But there was the impression that it had distinct features. Its chest had a rounded purple bubble on the top half of its body akin to round armor and it had a logo that appeared to be a WiFi signal within an eye in a cage. The lower half appeared more akin to a skintight jumpsuit that was black with white stripes at the feet.

The akuma turned its attention to the two heroes.

“So umm… what are you doing in the locker room?”

“Merge complete, Deadzone is active. Mission objective, Capture Ladybug and Chat Noir,” The akuma answered in a robotic tone less as a response to the question and more as a statement, their voice sounded like the mix of two people.

“Well, Deadzone, we can’t let you do that!” Ryuuko exclaimed as she glared at the akuma.

The akuma pointed its blaster at her.

“Your opinion on that really doesn’t have an impact on us.”

Deadzone’s left hand touched the phone on their blaster, and a purple bubble with a pause insignia shot out. Ryuuko and Viperion both jumped back as the bubble had direct contact with their akuma prisoner, causing her to be motionless as the bubble turned green and floated to the roof of the room.

“Okay, so don’t touch the bubbles,” Viperion noted.

“Positive side, we don’t need to worry about that one akuma,” Ryuuko commented.

Viperion and Ryuuko knew this akuma would be trouble if it got to Ladybug and Chat noir. They were going to need to find a way to stop it.

______________________________________________________________________

Fu had been observing the spoiled Mayor’s daughter after her confrontation with the Reflekta replicas. Using it as a means to help him find Ladybug and Chat Noir. He was aware that this girl had a knack for getting into trouble and making akuma target her, so it would not be too far off to assume she would be useful in locating his chosen. He would have called her, but communication was down, so he would need to adapt. But now he had a rather interesting quandary.

“Should I lend her the miraculous or not?” Fu spoke quietly as he pondered.

It was a tougher question he had initially thought. If he was asked if she was worthy of being a miraculous user, the answer would undoubtedly be negative. She was clearly a spoiled brat who saw herself above others. But after the events when the bee miraculous temporarily fell into her hands, he had started observing her. He did this with all of the chosen ones that Marinette had picked. Not because he didn’t trust his student, but more out of curiosity of why Marinette picked these individuals.

With the one she picked for the fox miraculous, Fu could see that the girl valued justice, but was cunning and saw the importance of distinguishing truth from illusion, an ideal pick for the fox miraculous. As for the Turtle miraculous wielder, Wayzz spoke highly of Nino, which really made him curious about the young lad. That boy showed a willingness to protect those close to him even if it meant getting hurt, and the calm to be ready to wait and roll with things. The miraculous of protection required someone that can keep a cool head and be ready to defend at the drop of a hat.

The other temporary heroes matched pretty well with the traits of the Kwami and were all good people deep down. Fu had no doubts that Marinette had the instincts of a guardian. The only one that brought doubt was Chloé. After the incident where she found the miraculous and got akumatized, Chloé was trusted with the bee miraculous 3 times. And her record had been mixed but overall she was decent when she fell in line and worked with Ladybug and Chat Noir.

Marinette mentioned that she didn’t want to trust Chloé with the miraculous after the last time. But has admitted to Fu that if needed she was a decent Bee heroine.

But if he was wrong and she decided to use this chance to stay being a miraculous wielder, he would have to deal with her as a rogue. Though, considering the circumstances, that would honestly not be the worst situation, as her identity was public and Ladybug and Chat Noir would deal with her like before.

“Wayzz, what do you think?”

His kwami companion popped out of his shirt pocket.

“This is quite a dilemma, Master. The situation is dire, but putting the miraculous in the wrong hands would also make things worse. Perhaps Pollen would be able to give better insight.”

“Very true, my friend.” Fu patted the kwami.

Fu cautiously went into the cleaning cart and pulled out the Bee Miraculous. The bee kwami popped out.

“Good morning, Master,” Pollen greeted the guardian with respect.

“Good afternoon, Pollen. We have a situation and I would like to know your opinion.”

“Very well, I am happy to serve,” The bee kwami replied.

“What do you think of Chloé Bourgeois? The one that used your miraculous recently.”

The kwami put her little hand to her face as she compiled her thoughts.

“She is complicated, Master. She didn’t talk to me much but I kind of got to feel a lot about who she was as a person. She is brash, she is confident, yet she is insecure. She is blunt, stubborn, and set in her ways. But I can tell that she is at a crossroads in her life. There is some small part of her that wants to be good and do good for others outside of herself, but her upbringing has made such a mindset seem like weakness, and she is scared of letting herself be vulnerable. Ladybug has been a good influence on her, but she is still immature in several aspects. She has the potential to be a good queen. If she could break through that self-imposed selfish mentality, she could be something extraordinary,” Pollen explained, finally.

“I see, well that is quite informative. Thank you,” Fu responded, nodding thoughtfully.

He put the Bee Miraculous back in a tiny box, causing her to go dormant.

“So, she is at a crossroad.” Fu repeated as he stroked his chin

He turned his attention back to Chloé, who had continued walking towards another dead end. When he caught the eye of approaching Reflekta clones. And with that, Fu figured out a way to know.

“I think I just found a way to know the correct answer.”

______________________________________________________________________

“I swear this place is a maze.” Mayura grumbled to herself as she walked the halls.

She noticed her fan shake, notifying her of someone calling. It was Hawkmoth

“Yes?”

“Mayura what are you doing?! You were supposed to find the target and get out!” Hawkmoth exclaimed angrily. “And why did you transform? You knowutilizing the Peacock Miraculous is dangerous.”

Though she wouldn’t admit it, she was somewhat touched by the concern in his voice. Unfortunately, she did not have time to dwell on that so she was going to ignore it, as she had a task at hand

“Some unforeseen circumstances have caused some rather unfortunate delays. I am going to locate the sentimonster and gather information regarding the target. Afterwards, I will assist in getting Ladybug and Chat Noir’s Miraculous.” Mayura responded.

As she was speaking, an akuma with black wings flew into view along with an akuma riding a paper airplane.

“Seems the akuma servants have located me.”

She notices the akuma began preparing to attack her. They were practically mindless puppets that saw anyone who wasn’t their master as an enemy. This was quite an oversight, but it fit with the motif of the akuma villain. She felt the emotions of that girl, she knew exactly the type of insecurities Lila held. Thankfully for her, it meant they could easily be exploited.

“Get out of there this instant it is too dangerous. You are in no shape to…”

The akumas aimed at the unidentified villainess and fired off paper airplanes and arrows.

“We will discuss this later.” Mayura hung up before turning her attention to the two servants of Masquerade.

Mayura dashed through the hall, expertly avoiding projectiles and blocking with her fan those she couldn’t dodge. She jumped onto Reverser’s glider, grabbed the akuma and threw him at the flying Dark Cupid, leaving the two dazed and tangled together.

“I’m weakened, not helpless,” Mayura commented as she dusted herself off and hopped off the floating paper airplane.

She noticed that the two akuma that attacked her were slow in getting up.

‘Seems the akuma created by Masquerade aren’t just mindless, they are also rather slow in reacting. Ladybug and Chat Noir can exploit that. I suppose with the number of servants she made, this was to be expected. I should locate Simularé and get some details on our akuma’s little plan. I should step in and seize control if she gets too distracted like the last one. Gabriel has always been far too cautious when it comes to his plans, it’s time we were more active.’ Mayura mentally concluded.

She closed her eyes and focused on locating the sentimonster.

“She is on the roof. Odd placement for her most powerful ally, but I suppose there must be some sort of logical reason for what she is planning,” Mayura rationalized.

The peacock themed villainess noticed that the akuma that attacked her were starting to move again, and she decided to pick up her pace a bit.

______________________________________________________________________________

“This is super ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous!” she exclaimed with anger. “Not a single exit in this place! Why is every exit coated in icky slime?”

She checked her phone.

“And still no signal.”

She ended up chucking her phone out of frustration.

“I wish Ladybug would just get here and beat the akuma, or better yet, come here and give me the bee miraculous so I can help kick butt,” she grumbled as she went to go see where she threw her phone. She'd remembered she actually liked the case she just bought for it and losing that would be a waste.

“H-help me please!” The wails of a person in danger caught Chloé’s attention.

“That sounds like a non-me issue,” the blonde told herself. As she continued walking to her phone.

“If only there was someone here to save me!” the voice called out again.

Chloé stopped moving for a moment.

“Well I am not a hero without the Bee, so I guess he better hope Ladybug and Chat Noir are nearby, or maybe those other two costumed nobodies that I saw earlier,” she said, clearly trying to convince herself not to do anything.

“Please! Ladybug! Chat Noir…. “

"The heroes will handle it." Chloé reasoned with herself as she picked up her phone. Now getting ready to go somewhere else and likely away from the screaming.

“ And a…Queen Bee.”

Chloé’s eyes went wide. Did someone call out for… Queen Bee?!

Chloé started dashing down the halls to the sound of the voice.

“Did someone call for a hero!” Chloé called out, looking confident.

She arrived to see an old man in an ugly Hawaiian shirt being cornered by 3 Reflekta copies. The akuma copies turn to Chloé.

“Surrender,” they sing-songed as they began to approach.

Chloé ran right at them, and proceeded to push them into each other, and let the impractical heels make it hard for them to get back up.

She rushed to the old man.

“Don’t worry, old man with good taste in heroes and nothing else. I, Queen Bee, am here to save you,” Chloé blustered.

“Thank you.” Fu said with a forced smile. She clearly only came when he mentioned her name. But she did show up. In hindsight, maybe his test was not as conclusive as he thought. But then again, he actually planned those out more.

Chloé looked around.

“Alright old man, normally I would have just left you to get saved by Ladybug, but you have good taste in heroes, so I am going to help you out. We need to move before those creepy akumas get back up. So follow me, I know a place you can hide out.” Her tone tried to come off as abrasive, but it did show an inkling of care.

Chloé began moving away from the cluster of Reflektas. The old man shrugged and followed behind. He supposed that this would be another good test for her. Maybe he will get a more definitive answer by keeping an eye on her. And if worse comes to worse, he had a feeling she would make a good distraction should he need to escape a band of akuma.

______________________________________________________________________

“Did you just make a...”

Ladybug was able to pick up on the sound of harsh wind heading their way and decided her scolding of lame references could wait for later. She grabbed her partner's arm and pulled him into the nearby science lab.

She quickly closed the door just as a cold front blasted right past them. The window on the door was covered in ice.

“Stormy Weather?”

“Stormy Weather.”

The two both look at each other with a bit of worry. The storm akuma was one of their more powerful foes, and with complete control of the weather in such a tight space, things were going to get tough.

“Any ideas?”

Ladybug weighed her options. Would now be the time to use her lucky charm? or should she save it for when they are in front of Masquerade? It was starting to get harder to make that call.

“We can’t have her roaming the halls, we will need to incapacitate her. So I say have your ice power up ready, and be ready to swap power ups at the drop of a hat. Stormy Weather may be tough, but we still have tricks up our sleeve.”

Chat Noir nodded.

“Sounds like a plan.”

Ladybug and Chat Noir both popped their Ice blue power ups and shift into their Ice forms. The two watched as the other’s suit gained ice skates, ice crystal and snowflake accents, becoming Ladyice and Icecat.

(AN: Yes, according to the Wiki, that’s what they are calling them. Personally, I would have called them Ladyfrost and Cold noir/ Cool Cat but that’s just me. This isn’t relevant to the story, I just wanted you all to know that.)

“You know, Ladybug, you really give off the ice skater vibe. Would you say you have experience ice skating outside of this form?” Chat Noir asked.

Ladybug felt her mind flash to her date with Adrien and her cheeks turned red.

“I- I may have some experience. And how about you, Kitty?” she deflected.

“Well, now that you mention it, I…”

They heard a loud bang on the door, cracking the ice that covered the window to reveal the white theater mask that Stormy Weather had covering her face.

“I’m gonna give it to her, she really knows how to break the Ice,” Chat Noir joked.

“Chaton, cool it with all of the ice puns,” she stated.

“Wait, was that a pun? My Lady I... OH SHI…”

A large ice stalactite burst through the door interrupting their banter and almost skewering them.

Chat Noir was about to say something when Ladybug cut in.

“Chat Noir, you are my partner and I respect you greatly. But so help me, if you say we should put this conversation on ‘Freeze’, I will not save you if you get impaled.” Ladybug stated.

Chat Noir paused.

“You know me so well,” he said with a smile.

The two watched as Stormy Weather entered the room through the stalactite hole.

______________________________________________________________________

“Hey Viperion?”

“Yea Ryuuko?”

“We both agree that we need to stop that crazy akuma right?”

“That is correct.”

“Then why are you carrying me away from it!?” Ryuuko exclaimed.

Viperion had picked up the dragon heroine fireman style in order to pull her away from the pursuing akuma.

“Do you want the reasons in alphabetical order?” the snake hero sassed.

“We can take it,” Ryuuko asserted. “We can’t retreat! There is no honor in it!”

“Well considering neither of our weapons can touch them, the concept of honor has flown out the window. Not to mention, I seriously doubt that we can take them on without a plan, and don’t say ‘try to hit them harder’ is a plan. It isn’t.”

Viperion had a smug look as he noticed Ryuuko look away.

“You’re right, but I'm mad about it,” the dragon heroine huffed.

“I can live with that.”

Viperion took a sharp left and noticed a dozen Reflekta duplicates.

“Juleka?”

“Come with us,” the clones sang.

“I’m going to assume they aren’t her,” Ryuuko said as she got off Viperion’s shoulders.

She punched his arm.

“Ow.”

“Your shoulder was bumpy.”

Ryuuko drew her weapon and dashed past the group of Reflekta clones. After a second, she holstered her weapon and all of the clones dropped to the floor groaning.

“Wow.” Viperion was impressed. He had to admit that it was super cool.

“Don’t worry, I used the flat end of the sword. They will be fine, and hopefully they will slow down the akuma.”

The two continued running, but glanced back as Deadzone arrived. He looked at the clones getting up and blasted each one into a green bubble in which they remained motionless and floated to the ceiling of the hall.

“It can’t distinguish between friend or foe,” Viperion commented.

“What?”

Viperion turned to his comrade.

“I think I just got an idea.”

__________________________________________________________________________

“This way,” the bossy blond teen motioned.

Fu pushed his janitor cart as they moved in the hallway.

“Do you really need to move that hideous thing with us?” Chloé questioned with clear aggravation.

“It's very important,” Fu responded.

“Ugh, whatever. Just move faster, then.”

Fu nodded and picked up the pace.

The mayor’s daughter led them down the hall and they had managed to avoid attracting attention.

“Okay, we are here.”

Fu looked at the door and realized that it was the nurse’s office.

“Hopefully the nurse didn’t get herself captured while I was gone.”

Chloé went to open the door and noticed it was locked.

“What the…”

“Let me try.” Fu interjected.

“Fine, just hurry up.”

He pulls out a jingling set of keys. Chloé shrugged as she turned around to keep watch.

Fu let his kwami companion out to open the door. Wayzz quickly undid the lock and opened the door before sliding back out of view.

“All done,” Fu said.

Chloé turned around as Fu opened the door.

The two quickly ran inside and locked the door behind them.

“Nurse Arugula!” Chloé called out. “I have a guest for you!”

“Arugala?”

“It was something with an A.” Chloé commented.

The two waited a few seconds, but there was no response.

They moved deeper into the office.

“Are you here?” Chloé questioned.

They flicked on the light switch to see the nurse in the cot.

“Oh, that’s great, I leave to go get help and be a hero and she goes off napping!” Chloé fumed.

Fu moved to the nurse and noticed she had a bruise on her neck, indicating that she was clearly forced into this state. He jabbed a pressure point and the nurse jolted awake.

“HUAGH!”

She nearly fell out of the cot.

“Glad you can join us from your nap,” Chloé hissed.

“Chloé? Did you call for help?” The nurse inquired as she gathered her bearings.

“No, the school is a total dead zone, and I couldn’t find a way out because they are all blocked by slime. Side note, I found this old guy.”

The nurse turned to the old man.

“Hello. I’m Angela.” She politely introduced herself.

“Nice to meet you. I am… Fung,” Fu lied. He couldn’t be too careful.

“Nice to meet you Fung, despite the circumstances,” she tried to make light of the situation.

“Every meeting can have a positive circumstance if one is looking for it.”

The calm in the air died when Angela realized that someone was missing.

“Oh no! The women you left in my care! She knocked me out and stormed out of here.” Angela exclaimed.

“Welp, she is probably captured,” Chloé shrugged.

“We have to find her, she has some sort of strange illness. Leaving her out there might be dangerous, akuma or not.”

Angela prepared to move to the door but was stopped by Chloé.

“Oh no you don’t! I brought this old man here for safety. You stay here with him.”

“But my patient!”

The woman was clearly shaking, but she was determined, she wanted to help her patient even if it meant going into danger. But much to Fu’s surprise, Chloé stepped up.

“I will bring your patient back. Mostly because being stuck in here seems much worse than dealing with a bunch of dumb akuma.”

Angela hugged Chloé.

“Thank you.”

Chloé tried to look annoyed, but a ghost of a smile appeared on the mayor’s daughter’s face. She accepted the hug for a moment.

Fu took notice. He had made his decision.

“Alright, enough touching! You deal with sick people all day. I don’t want germs,” Chloé stated as she tried to give off her usual air.

“That is very brave of you, young one.” Fu spoke.

“Pff, this is nothing. It’s what heroes do.”

As Chloé began making her way out of the nurse’s office, Fu quietly slipped the tiny miracle box into her bag.

‘I hope this was worth the risk.’

_____________________________________________________________

(END OF CHAPTER)

Well things are really heating up.

Will Ladyice and Icenoir be able to deal with stormy weather? Will Deadzone be the dead end for Ryuuko and Viperion? What is Masquerade's villainous plan? Will I update faster than every 40 or so days?

Let me know your thoughts and if you did enjoy the story.

REBLOG it and comment. Likes are nice but they don't really help content creators like they should.

351 notes · View notes

angellesword · 3 years

Text

MAGIC SHOP | JJK (FINAL CHAPTER)

Description: You and Jungkook were best friends who were in love with each other. What would happen when Soojin, your half sister who you’re trying to impress, told you she’s in love with Jungkook too?

Alternatively:

“Would you believe me if I said that I was scared of everything too?”

Pairing: Architect!Jungkook x Architect!Reader

Genre: childhood best friends to lovers, family drama, angst, fluff, idiots to lovers, pining, slice of life au.

Warnings: none except kissing (There’s so much reconciliation happening in this chapter, lol)

Chapter’s OST: Magic Shop by 방탄소년단 (See English lyrics here)

Word Count: 3.9k

Series: CHAPTER 14 | CHAPTER 01

"I can't believe you got married," the smile you rendered to your brother was soft as you helped him fix his bow tie.

Taehyung hated bow ties, but he knew he had to endure wearing one today. It's his wedding day after all. Besides, ditching the said tie would definitely sadden his husband. It's something Taehyung couldn't afford to make the love of his life feel, mainly because Yoongi seemed very excited when he told Taehyung he designed their wedding outfits himself.

"I got married and I'm doing it all over again." Taehyung grinned back at you.

It's refreshing to see his boxy smile after many months of awkward eye contacts and tightlipped smiles.

Taehyung avoided you for a long time because he was embarrassed. He wasn't an idiot. He knew there's a part of you that blamed him for not being able to see your father for the last time. If he had only gone with you to Seoul, you'd probably be given a chance to say your goodbyes to Taemin, but alas, those days were over.

You just hoped your father was in a good place now. He deserved it even though he'd be shitty to you. You realized you didn't want to hold grudges any longer.

You hated the idea of spending your days filled with rage and pain. No. You didn't deserve it. They might not be worthy of your forgiveness, but you also didn't deserve to feel the heaviness in your chest just by thinking about them. Besides, those who hurt you and the people around you were already paying for their wrongdoings.

Namjoon and Hoseok often called to tell you what's happening in Seoul since you're already back here in New York. Apparently, there's already a verdict in Soojin's case. Your sister was deemed guilty for almost all criminal and civil cases she was facing. You also came to know that Sin-ae was pressed with charges for helping her daughter hide and destroy evidence in a crime. She wasn't incarcerated though. Sin-ae simply paid a fine of a few thousands of dollars.

Needless to say, her family's reputation was ruined. She sacrificed a lot of things just to maintain a good public image. She even went as far as tolerating you instead of going to court to sue her husband and your mother for concubinage. But in the end, she still lost.

She couldn't face the public with pride and joy anymore. Hoseok was the one who told you about this heartbreaking news. Namjoon didn't have the courage to do it. Sure, he helped your eldest brother, however it didn't mean he's guilt-free. There were times when he felt like he betrayed his own family, mainly because Sin-ae expressed her hatred towards him.

You suspected that the only reason why Namjoon called you and Taehyung was because he was afraid he's losing his mind. You and Taehyung were his only reminder that he did what's right. You wished Namjoon would learn to live with the decision he made too.

"Ah, I'm happy you didn't forget to invite me this time." You poked your brother's stomach as a response to his smug claim that he's getting married to the love of his life for the second time.

Yes, second time. Taehyung and Yoongi's family and friends demanded that they get married again. It's unfair that you all didn't get to attend the first time they did it.

"It's a spur-of-the-moment decision!" Your brother and his husband would argue every time you teased them about forgetting to inform you about this big decision.

Truthfully, you didn't really mind that they got married behind your back. What worried you was that you felt like your brother only agreed to marry Yoongi because he was lonely and grieving.

You see, it hadn't been a while since your father died. If you remembered it correctly, you only stayed in Seoul for three months after his death. The day you went back to New York was also the day you had learned your brother was married to Yoongi for almost a week already.

No one knew, not even Jimin. Your roommate rarely saw them after you went back to Seoul. He wanted to give Taehyung space, especially because Jimin was aware that your brother's way of coping up with pain was by pretending like the problem didn't exist at all. This was why he chose to go to New York after telling his family about his sexuality. He pretended like he didn't care about what they thought and that he was better off on his own, but deep inside, he was afraid too. He was scared to fuck up again, scared to push people because he might lose them in an instant. You guessed this was why he married your best friend. Maybe he was afraid he'd end up taking him for granted. After all, Yoongi had sacrificed many things in order to be with him.

But you didn't doubt Taehyung's feelings anymore. He wouldn't agree to marry Yoongi for the second time if he didn't love him, right? Besides, your brother willingly chose to move in with Yoongi even before they got married.

It was lonely to stay in your shared apartment with Jimin. He missed and felt sorry for you. It didn't help that your roommate kept calling you, reminding Taehyung of the mess at home that he chose to ignore.

Anyway, moving in with Yoongi was for the best. At least Taehyung wouldn't feel bad for disturbing you and Jimin anymore. He knew there were times your roommate just wanted to chill and watch movies in the living room, but he couldn't because Taehyung was sleeping on the couch.

Unfortunately there's a new person invading your apartment.

"Are you two ready?" Jungkook, the same person who was staying with you and Jimin for two days now, barged inside the dressing room, disturbing your little moment with Taehyung. "The guests are waiting and your husband is sweating so much. I think he just wants to kiss you and get this over with, Taehyungie-hyung."

Jungkook had an innocent look on his face that you didn't even realize that he's saying what he wanted to do with you right now: kiss you and bring you back to Seoul with him.

Two days ago was the first time he saw you in person after you left Seoul eight months ago. If Taehyung and Yoongi didn't invite him to the wedding, Jungkook wasn't sure what excuse to make to see you again.

Talking to you through the screen of his phone wasn't enough. He craved to be with you. It's unfair that Jimin, your other suitor, got to spend time with you while he was stuck in Seoul, thousands of miles away from you.

But little did Jungkook know, he had the advantage here. He's the one you loved, not Jimin. Your roommate accepted it already. He kept telling you it's okay, that you didn't owe him anything. Jimin knew from the very start that you only saw him as a friend. You also assured him there was someone out there who could return his feelings.

In fact, you felt like he had met her already. Chou Tzuyu, the pretty girl next door. He was Jimin's date today.

"Really?" Taehyung snorted but he was smug when he said, "but we literally just fucked two hours ago—"

"Please stop. I don't need to hear this." You pouted. Jungkook chuckled as he stepped closer to you, he was still keeping a fair distance though.

"And here I am, only allowed to see the girl I love on special occasions."

"Bloody hell. Are you two still playing this game?" Taehyung grunted, looking at you and Jungkook in disbelief. "Can't you just kiss and be together already?"

Heat travelled to your face upon hearing your brother’s complaint. Jungkook chuckled again.

"Don't look at me. I'm trying here..." He was. He always tried to win you over.

You're just stubborn.

"Enough about us. This is your day, oppa." With this, you and Jungkook both escorted your brother out of the dressing room.

Hoseok and Namjoon would be the one to walk Taehyung down the aisle. Sin-ae didn’t want to attend, she said she’d rather visit Soojin in jail. As for Seokjin, well, he also wanted to walk his brother down the aisle, but Yoongi asked him to officiate their wedding instead.

Seokjin and Yoongi were already waiting at the altar. The theme of this event was a garden wedding. You were in awe as you watched the couple exchange vows while surrounded by pretty flowers and colorful butterflies.

You're glad they're doing this. Taehyung and his husband first got married in Vegas. It was rushed and not as heartwarming as this one. At least today they got to see that their family and friends were very proud of them. In fact, Seokjin made the couple cry when he abruptly stopped his brother from putting a ring on Yoongi's finger.

Seokjin brought out a ring box. You all gasped when he opened it, revealing the traditional wedding ring of the Kims. It was passed to the eldest child every generation. It meant a lot to Taehyung that Seokjin was doing this, however your brother said it's not his decision alone.

Before Taemin died, he told Seokjin to hand the ring to Taehyung. It's baffling, considering the fact that Taemin spent years hating his son just because he was gay.

Seokjin didn't say but Taemin made this decision the day before the accident occurred. It's like their father knew he was going to die and that he wanted to apologize to Taehyung for not treating him right.

Taemin also instructed Seokjin to give you a certain box but your brother figured it's best to hand it to you after the wedding. The box contained the set of Farnsworth House LEGO Architecture—Jungkook's gift to you during your sixteenth birthday.

You remembered the time when you and your sister were fighting over it, with Soojin insisting that the gift belonged to her. Taemin confiscated it, saying that if you two couldn't share, then no one could have it.

You didn't mind sharing, just like how you didn't mind seeing Yoongi and Taehyung share a passionate kiss.

Your heart hurt but in a good way. It's remarkable to see the two people you loved find their way to each other's arms.

The ceremony ended with a round of applause and with Jungkook hugging and kissing your temple as he whispered how much he loved you.

The reception of the wedding was also in the same garden where the ceremony was held. The sun had set and now fairy lights illuminated the place.

It's romantic. You saw Jimin and Tzuyu dancing a few feet away from where you're standing. Your roommate's hands were wrapped around his date's waist. Jungkook was holding you like that too, or maybe your and Jungkook's position was more intimate. Your forehead was pressed against his. You could feel him nuzzling your cheek.

"Miss you, Tiger..." Your best friend murmured, lips trailing your cheek down to the side of your mouth.

You tightened your embrace to him as you admitted, "I miss you too, Kook." Because you did. More than so much. Seeing him now made you feel like you could finally breathe.

You didn't know how you survived the past months without him by your side.

"You do?" Jungkook hummed, his voice was innocent and full of hope as he continued asking you a question. "Will you come home with me, then?"

"I have work here, Kook.."

"So quit and accept my proposal." He grumbled and kissed the side of your mouth once more, hoping that it's enough to coax you.

Jungkook built his own architectural firm. He proposed to you, saying that he wanted to run the company with you. A professional partnership. You two were competent enough to do this.

His proposal was lame though. You told him he needed to make a concrete business plan to convince you to accept the job. So far, all his proposals didn't spark excitement.

"Please, baby, I can't spend one more day away from you." He was begging, big doe eyes and all. "Just give me more time and I'll perfect that business plan."

You threw your head back and laughed. You actually laughed because he was adorable and because you were insanely in love with him too.

"You have a month, Architect Jeon." You said, finally relenting.

"Yes!" Jungkook briefly let go of you to punch the air. He was so excited you could literally see his body shaking.

"I only need two more weeks, baby..."

You did it.

You really quit your job and went back to Seoul with Jungkook. Admittedly, you were thrilled but at the same time, you were scared to death.

You were officially jobless now. You knew Hoseok wouldn't hesitate to hire you but you didn't want to live your life like that. You helped him break the chain when your father died. You couldn't create another one.

Apart from this, you trusted Jungkook. He said he needed fourteen days to show you that his firm was viable. You had no doubt about this, but as a future partner, you should learn how to practice professional skepticism.

"Is the blindfold really necessary?" You groaned at Jungkook, already pissed because he disturbed your peaceful morning at your eldest brother's place.

You were staying at Hoseok's apartment again. It's difficult to find a place of your own. If you were to become Jungkook's partner at the firm, then you would need to find a home near the office building.

Jungkook's architectural firm was situated on the fourth floor of Queens Building. Architect Jeon decided to rent a space first because his business was just starting. He started operating ten months ago. Perhaps he could buy a piece of land if you chose to form a professional partnership with him.

"It is. I told you this will determine my future with you." Jungkook said as he guided you.

Today was the day he'd present his business plan. He said it took him more than eight months to finish the proposal. However you weren't sure if this was still a proposal because your jaw dropped the moment he removed your blindfold.

This wasn't a proposal.

Architect Jeon Jungkook literally built a shop for you.

"Welcome to Magic Shop, Tiger." Jungkook's grin was big as he beckoned you to enter the place.

You remained rooted in your spot though, still in awe. The facade of this shop was aesthetically pleasing. On the left side of the wooden door was a pot of red flowers. A display of books on the other hand, could be seen on the right side of the door.

You could also hear a pleasing melody as you roamed your eyes around the place. You realized the music was coming from the inside of the shop.

I know that you're hesitating because even if you say the truth in the end it will all return as scars

"Come on, Tiger..." Jungkook held your hand. He could feel fear radiating from you.

You were probably afraid to discover what he prepared for you.

I'm not going to say anything blatant like "find strength"

"Okay..." You sucked in a deep breath as you gripped his hand. Jungkook led you inside the shop.

The inside was better than what you saw outside. There were no other people here aside from you and him.

You let go of Jungkook's hand since you were excited to check out the whole place. Jungkook let you be, allowing you to explore what he built just to make you stay.

Jungkook watched as you picked up a book, flipping through the pages like you were interested to see what's written there.

But that's the thing.

There's nothing written there. The books had blank pages.

I will let you hear my story, let you hear it

The lyrics of the song demonstrated the very purpose of these books. Jungkook explained that people could come and go to this place, especially if they felt like the outside world was too much, like it was suffocating them.

What did I say?

They could grab a book and write down their stories.

I said you'd win, didn't I?

They could let out their emotions through writing. It didn't matter if they'd only share their worries because someday, Jungkook knew these people would come back.

I couldn't believe it (really)

They would come back and reread their entries, and then they'd realize that they made it.

Could I win it?

That they really won.

This miracle that isn't a miracle

They'd think it's a miracle, but really, it's on them. They worked hard, they didn't give up, and they pulled themselves from a very dark place.

Did we make it?

Just like what you did.

(No) I was here

Just like what your mother and the rest of her circle in the CA meeting did.

You wrote a single entry in the book before returning it to the shelf.

You were the one that made your way to me

Entry: I’m scared because I quit my job without thinking. No, wait. I did think. I thought about the person I love. He wants to be with me. I do too. He promised he'd stay with me.

I do believe your galaxy

And you believed him. You believed his galaxy, that it's going to shine bright and guide you.

I want to listen to your melody

Jungkook's way of saying that he was here for you was through murmuring I love you. This was his melody.

Your stars in the Milky Way

His doe eyes lit this world full of despair.

Don't forget that I found you anyways

Jungkook found you when you're suffering alone.

At the end of my despair

He didn't stop supporting you even when you pushed him away, even if you told him you didn't want him to fix you.

You're the last reason for me who was standing at the edge of the cliff

He would never let you jump off a cliff. He would stay there and inspire you to

Live

On days I hate being myself, days I want to disappear forever

But Jungkook learned his lesson. He understood what you meant when you said you didn't want to be fixed.

Let's make a door in your heart

So he literally made a door instead.

Open the door and this place will await. It's okay to believe, the Magic Shop will comfort you

A door that would lead you to a place where you could find comfort, a place where you wouldn't be forced to share and solve your problems at once.

You could just chill and take a break here.

While drinking a glass of hot tea

You went to the second floor of the Magic Shop, there's a corner where you could drink different kinds of tea. There were tables and chairs if ever you preferred to talk to someone and share to them your problems. This corner was for extroverts and those who felt comfortable talking to others.

And looking up at the Milky Way

There were bean bags as well. You could drink tea here alone while looking up at the sky shining with stars.

You'll be alright, oh, this here is the Magic Shop

"You'll be alright here, Tiger." Jungkook was standing behind you. He gave you a back-hug while you both enjoyed the fresh air in the veranda.

So show me (I'll show you)

"I built this place for you, baby. I won't force you to tell me things anymore..."

So show me (I'll show you)

"I won't try to solve your problem if you don't want me to..." He kissed your nape.

So show me (I'll show you)

"I won't try to fix you..."

Show you show you

"Because you're not a thing. You're a person who needs to feel and to heal."

Like a rose when blooming, like cherry blossoms when being scattered in the wind

You were going to bloom and stop hurting at your own pace and way. He would encourage you to spread your wings and fly, enjoying the wind.

My greed that was my weapon suffocated me and also became a leash,

"Thank you, Kook..." You turned to face him. Your eyes glistened with tears of joy.

You couldn't believe he still remembered what you said to him two years ago, the thing where you didn't want him to fix you.

You're also glad he understood what you meant. Jungkook understood the type of love you needed, but days ago, you asked him when he realized he loved you.

but looking back on it now, truthfully I feel like it's not true that I wanted to be the best

Jungkook said you had to wait for a few more days to know the answer. Today, you came to know his reason.

I wanted to become your comfort and move your heart. I want to take away your sadness, and pain

"I was a very selfish person before I met you. I used to believe that what's mine is mine, and what's yours is mine too."

You laughed at that. It sounded like little Jungkook. If Jong-in was alive, he'd probably nod his head in agreement.

"But just by looking at you makes me want to give you everything already, you know?"

Would you believe me if I said that I was scared of everything too?

"That's what love is for me. To offer you everything, but I learned what truly matters. I don't have to sacrifice and break myself for love. All I want now is to simply be your comfort, the shoulder you can use to lean on. That's the love I want to receive too."

Jungkook was saying the time you two spent away from each other made him realize what he wanted too. He tried to put himself in your shoes, making him realize that he wouldn't want you to take the blame and do everything for him.

He just needed you to stay with him while he fixed himself. He knew now that this was what you desired as well.

"So to answer your question why I love you. Well, it's because—" He swallowed hard as he stared deep in your soul. "You gave me the best of me."

He learned not to be selfish but also to not offer his one hundred percent to someone, that he should still leave some love for himself too.

"And I know you'll give you the best of you too." Was the major realization he came to know as to why you didn't need to be fixed.

You'd do it yourself. You'll find it, the galaxy inside you at some point.

"I love you, Tiger..."

You pulled Jungkook closer and then you caressed his cheeks.

Your eyes twinkled as you responded, "I love you too, Kook," and then you kissed him.

Jungkook melted, the worry engulfing him evaporated. He wasn't scared anymore because the kiss you shared made him know an unspoken communication between the two of you. It went like this:

"So show me..."

"I'll show you..."

- END -

BONUS: LETTER WRITTEN BY KIM TAEMIN FOR OC

Thank you guys so much for reading this fic. <333 I love you all!

Please stay tuned for a new JJK fic!

Preview of BST: Jeon Jungkook was the very definition of that fictional fawn named Bambi: brown doe eyes, innocent, and a prey—something you hated about him. He was so weak. Seriously. The boy needed to grow a spine, luckily you had an idea to do just that.

The plan was to send him on a mission where he would be forced to defend himself, but surprise, surprise. Jungkook fucked up, causing him to become the complete opposite of Bambi: red eyes, corrupted mind, and a...predator.

Jungkook was a vampire and he might just bite you.

Alternatively:

“My blood, sweat, and tears. This is a spell that will punish me.”

#jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #jungkook x yn #jungkook best friend #jungkook best friends to lovers #best friend jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook romance #bts jungkook #bts jeon jungkook #armywriterssupport

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hangovercurse · 3 years

Text

Blind Date

After being single for three months, your friends decide to set you and Colson up on a blind date.

Request: Hey!! Could you do one about the reader and Colson meeting by a blind date? Let your creativity go wild ❤️

Colson x Reader

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: This is a little bit different from how I normally write, so let’s see how this goes.

Word Count: 1916

It’s funny how the universe makes things happen. While some people are having their first kiss, others are taking their last breath. Every moment in time is so intricately woven together, it sometimes seems ironic how things happen.

Like tonight, on two sides of California, two very different people were having the same conversation.

“I’m not sure about this.”

“What if she thinks my tattoos are too much?”

“What if he thinks I’m too weird?”

“What if she hates music?”

“What if he hates art?”

“I don’t know if I’m ready for this.”

“I don’t think I can do this.”

Your best friend stared at you from your bed as you paced around the room. “Y/N, you’re going to be fine. You said it yourself, you need to get back out there. Baze says he’s a good guy, and I trust Baze.”

Baze was in a similar situation, laying on the couch as Colson paced around the house. “Colson, dude. It’s gonna be good, she’s gonna like you.”

“I don’t know why I’m so nervous. It’s not like I’ve never been on a first fuckin date before. I used to do this shit every night.” He sighed, sitting down.

You let out a frustrated groan, “I know. I just feel like after everything in the past few years I feel like I’ve forgotten how to do first dates.”

“You’re gonna be great, just be yourself. And remember, it’s a blind date, so if you guys don’t hit it off or something goes horribly wrong, you never have to see him again.” She smiled as you threw her a playful glare.

“Colson, I love you man, but you have to do this. I don’t think you’ve even looked at a woman who isn’t Ashleigh in like three months.”

The light-haired man sent his friend a glare, “I’m sorry that I was recovering from the worst heartbreak of my life.”

You finally sat down, pulling on your shoes. “Maybe it’s too soon. Maybe I’m not as ready as I thought I was.”

Your friend sighed, sitting up and placing her arms around your shoulders, “It’s been three months since you and T broke up. You grieved, and now you need to move on. You deserve this.”

“Dude, you said you were over her. You are over her. Now you get to find someone else and try to be happy. You deserve this.”

“Maybe don’t bring up your disastrous ex, Y/N.”

“But please, for the love of god, bro, don’t bring up Megan.”

You entered the small, classy restaurant, your hands shaking slightly. The entire place was dimly lit, with candles scattered around any surface available. You walked to the hostess stand, “Baker for two.” You told her, a small smile gracing your features.

She nodded, leading you through the floor. “He got here not 30 seconds before you did.” She laughed and you blushed a little bit.

You were grateful he wasn’t late, but you were also grateful he wasn’t extremely early , or else you would have felt awful for making him wait.

You were finally brought to a small table in the back of the restaurant to find one of the prettiest men you have ever laid your eyes on. When his eyes met yours, he stood up immediately, a smile on his face. “Y/N?” He asked.

“Colson.” You responded. He pulled your chair out for you, and you felt heat rushing to your cheeks at the kind gesture. None of the guys you had ever dated pulled your chair out for you, especially not your most recent ex.

“Baze told me you were pretty but this is…” He trailed off, seeming a bit lost for words. “You are absolutely gorgeous.”

He was good at this, good at making you nervous, making you blush like a teenager. “Thank you.” You whispered, “I think you are one of the prettiest people I have ever met.” You returned his compliment with one of your own.

The redness in his cheeks made you smile, a bit of pride rising in your chest. “Baze truthfully didn’t tell me much about you.” He started, “so, what do you do?” He was kicking himself for the lame question, but his mind was half occupied with the color of your eyes and he couldn’t form a coherent thought.

“I’m an artist.” You probably didn’t realize it, but Colson could see the slightest bit of a light in your eyes as you spoke about your passion. “I do graphic designing for websites, making logos and designs and such. That’s my day job, at least. I do some painting and sketching on the side, though. Eventually I’d like to be able to make that my whole job, but it is a hard industry.”

Colson nodded in understanding, his eyes holding the same weight as yours when you spoke of your flailing dreams. You wondered how he knew exactly what you were talking about.

Seemingly reading your mind, he answered. “I get that so much. I’m a musician, so I’ve been there. Luckily, I did make it my full-time job, but I remember before I made it, all the stress and struggles. It gets better.”

You smiled, “easy for you to say, aren’t you like, a big Rockstar?”

He chuckled, looking down, “yeah, sort of. But I wasn’t, you know? Like before all this I was dirt poor and the picture of a starving artist. I mean I’m still not like, winning Grammys or shit now, but I’m not there anymore either.”

You nodded, studying him. “I was lucky, I had support through art school and got a job as soon as I graduated. I’ve never had to struggle in that sense. I don’t think I’d be happy staying where I’m at for the rest of my life, but I am definitely in a stable place right now.”

He seemed so interested in what you were saying. Soon the conversation moved into the type of music he made, and then to your art styles. You flowed together easily, never becoming awkward or uncomfortable. As the night went on, your nerves fell away, as did his.

You were talking about your favorite movies when your food arrived, but even then, your conversation continued. At one point, he paused mid-second. “You’ve got something, “ he pointed to his face. “Fuck it, this is gonna be so cheesy.” He grabbed his napkin and wiped the bit of sauce you had on your cheek off.

You blushed in embarrassment, “thanks.” He was right, the moment was very cheesy. His hand pulled away slowly, lingering near your skin a bit longer than necessary. You didn’t mind though.

As much as you hated to admit it, especially since you had only known him for one night, you could be really into him. And that scared the fuck out of you.

Colson was, too, scared shitless. Why the fuck was his heart fluttering every time you giggled. He’d just met you. But already he could tell you were something special.

He paid for dinner, like a gentleman, even though you protested. “It’s our first date, I am paying.”

You liked the way that he said, “first date,” implying there may be more. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to pay next time.” You said, smugly.

His eyebrow raised in question, a small smirk on his face. “We’ll see about that. I might just give them my card ahead of time.”

“Then I’ll just have to get there before you.”

You two laughed at your small competition as he led you to the parking lot, his hand in yours. “Did you drive?” He asked and you shook your head no.

“I called an uber. Speaking of…” You reached for your phone before he stopped you.

“Let me drive you home. If that’s okay?”

You let him lead you to his car, hand still tightly in his. He pulled the door open for you, guiding you in. Everything with him seemed like a new experience, his gentleman gestures catching you off guard.

“You should play me some of your music.” You told him when he got in. He smiled at that, pulling his phone out and opening his library.

“I don’t know if you’ll like the type of music I make.” He blushed, scrolling through to find a song he thought you might like.

You rolled your eyes, “well I like you so I think, by proxy, I’ll like your music.”

He bit his lip to hide the way his face lit up at your subtle confession. “Just don’t say that I didn’t warn you.”

You heard a somewhat familiar rhythm, something you had probably heard on the radio. “Wait, this is you? I swear I’ve heard this before.”

He smiled, glancing over at you before turning his attention back to the road. “Yeah, me and my friend Matt dropped this right before my last album release.”

You let the music play, listening to his voice as he sang. “You know, this somehow sounds exactly like you and nothing like you at the same time. Like if you hadn’t told me I don’t think I would’ve known this was you. But I do know so I can hear it.”

He chuckled but didn’t say anything, occasionally looking at you as you nodded your head to the music. A few more of his songs played from Tickets to My Downfall and you seemed to enjoy it. “You’re really good.” You commented. Your voice was truthful, you weren’t trying to flatter him, you were just saying what you thought. Your words were genuine.

He didn’t know why but hearing that from you meant so much more to him than he expected it to. He finally parked in front of your house, getting out and opening your door for you. Like a true gentleman, he walked you to your door, pausing before you unlocked it.

You turned to face him, looking up into his bright eyes. “I had a really good time tonight.” He said softly. “Probably the best night I’ve had in a while, honestly.”

You smiled widely, “I did too, Colson.” You grabbed his hands in yours, swinging them slightly. “I’m really glad we did this.”

He nodded, leaning closer to you, “would you, maybe, wanna do this again?” He asked, his voice falling closer to a whisper.

“I was hoping I had made that obvious when I said I’d pay next time.” You giggled, leaning up closer to him.

He rolled his eyes playfully, “just wanna make sure you didn’t change your mind.”

“Trust me, I didn’t.” You whispered, before leaning up and connecting your lips with his.

The kiss was short and sweet, but it seemed like everything you had ever wanted. When your lips left his, you both stayed very close to each other, hands still clasped. His face was still only inches from yours, eyes studying your every feature.

Eventually he let out a small sigh and leaned back up. “Well, uh, goodnight, Y/N.” He smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck as he took steps backwards towards his car. You smiled at him, waving a small goodbye before turning to unlock your door.

Your hand touched the handle before you turned around, finding Colson in the same situation at his car door, still looking at you. “Do you maybe wanna… come in?” You asked, biting your lip. His face lit up, a smirk highlighting his features.

“I would love that.”

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk angst #mgk fluff #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker imagine #colson baker fluff #colson baker angst #colson imagine

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vidalinav · 3 years

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Sister’s Day

Summary: Sometimes when you’re sick, you’re not actually sick; or Nesta doesn’t want to go out with the Inner Circle and instead of being left on her own Feyre, Elain, and Cassian opt to stay with her...

Read on AO3 and fanfic; General Masterlist

Her sisters keep looking at her. She can see their not-so-subtle glances as they casually reach for the shelf next to her or explain that they need to grab a book somewhere behind. The light is dim, you’ll hurt your eyes if you read in the dark. It’s been a few hours, try a snack.

They’re ruminating, she decides as Feyre stares deeply at where she sits on the armchair and minds her own business. Yet there comes Elain with a plate full of cookies and the gaggle of the rest of them entering the large foyer.

Feyre does this on purpose, she thinks, making the estate’s library in the center of the living room. Perhaps, Feyre knows that if she wants her older sister out in public, she must entice her with solitude.

Truthfully, they’ve been this way since her and Cassian’s inevitable return.

She supposes it’s her own fault, for giving them the cold shoulder, for being oddly quiet about her life in Illyria. Cassian doesn’t tell them anything, which doesn’t help, and Nesta likes watching them squirm enough that she simply stares ahead, a curious gleam in her eyes as they ask her a question she will not respond to. All of them try to ask, even Amren who outright questions whether she’s back to her old self.

Nesta scoffs, old self. She has not changed. All she’s learned is to hide herself better or reap the consequences.

But something must be different about her, because Feyre and Elain will not leave her alone.

She sighs, pursing her lips as the bedraggled gang set themselves into the chairs nearest her. Cassian taking up the whole loveseat, Mor hiking herself onto the desk as Azriel goes to the window, his shadows following. Amren sets herself up on the coffee table, puzzles already strewn about in pieces and Rhysand… he goes to Feyre as he always does. Nesta resists rolling her eyes as they do that thing they often do where they talk into each other’s minds. Do they actually think they’re being inconspicuous?

Cassian looks to her casually, but she does not meet his gaze, opting for sinking further into her seat and hiking her book up to her knees.

“Well, I think we should celebrate your return with a night out at Rita’s,” Mor offers brightly.

“That seems more like a celebration for you,” Azriel admits, his tone light even in the deep, sardonic notes.

“Maybe it is. I quite frankly am glad your back,” She points to Azriel and Amren, “these two were no fun while you were away. And those two—” Mor points to Feyre and Rhys who both turn at the same time, “well, they were the same.”

Cassian laughs, and Nesta sinks further in her chair as they talk around her. Talk as if she’s not there as if she doesn’t really exist. Just another book on the shelf, another window to peer out of. As nameless as one of the puzzle pieces that bedeck mahogany lines.

“You are coming with right? No excuses this time?” Mor asks, her eyes pleading. The sound makes Nesta want to cover her ears, and she has to clench the pages of her book to keep from sighing out right.

Cassian shrugs, his lips upturned and Nesta thinks he just... fits somehow. In the way that Nesta can’t.

And why wouldn’t he when this is his family?

She has her books, her grimaces, her words, but she doesn’t have… that. These are not her friends, and her sisters only sort of like her. Obligation at the very least, pity at the best of times. Nesta squeezes the hard cover until she feels the bindings start to tear.

What is with their fascination with Rita’s and going out?

But Elain tugs on her sister’s sleeve, and Nesta blinks up at her slowly, lost as much in the words of her feelings as the sentences in the book. Her spine goes straight without her knowledge, her chin lifting until she peers into warm brown and Elain swallows.

Nesta feels guilty for the look.

“You haven’t been out with us in some time…” She starts, “I’ve missed you.”

It wasn’t my fault, she wants to say, but the strangers in the room are staring at her. She can feel their eyes move like a match of wits and daffodils. Which one will win—the lovely fawn or the wily serpent that bites before she’s fed?

Feyre interjects, “Come to Rita’s with us!”

She claps once as if it is a fantastic idea, and Cassian tilts his head perhaps knowing better after all these months. His eyes glaze over hers, and she can read that look. Nesta turns away in answer.

She hopes the chair will engulf her as she sits back, her book open and waiting for her to join back into the world that she can’t not belong to. Even Amren waits for a nod of her head, and Nesta is tired of them. Go away, she wants to yell. Leave me alone!

“I doubt you’ll run into any of those males you slept with,” Amren sniffs, because she’s never really forgiven her for that argument on the sidra.

She can feel the static as the room dulls into a harsh hum and the others go oddly quiet. Stiff and straight, Feyre whips to the tiny ancient one. “Quiet,” she demands.

My, my, what a loving family you have, Nesta thinks. But she doesn’t back away from the challenge, not when they seem to agree with their sweet, dear friend.

“If I don’t,” she smiles, her eyes burning, “I’m sure I can find one before the night is over.”

Wrong answer, because Elain jumps and hugs her side, her cheek squishing into the chiffon. Nesta stiffens at the affection. “Oh! We’ll have such a good time. Won’t we Feyre?”

Her youngest sister nods but doesn’t look convinced. Still, Feyre smiles strangely at her and Nesta sighs, a headache forming behind her eyelids at her seemingly professed agreement. Elain noticing that Nesta’s tea has gone cold, goes to refill her cup, and before she can say she doesn’t need another cup, Elain is gone. Leaving her to a pack of wolves.

Nesta lifts the book to her face, ignoring the not-so-subtle glances her way, and begins reading once more.

He grabbed the sides of her face, his palms warm against her skin. He trailed his hands down her neck until they stopped at the ties of her bodice. She could see the blush already blooming at her breasts…

Cassian coughs. She looks up to see him smirking. That teasing grin that usually makes her hands clench and her temper flare red with blood.

Nesta quickly looks back down.

Her blush already blooming down her neck.

“It would be good for you to get out girl, show your face around here. Mother knows the city must have forgotten what you looked like.

Then maybe you all shouldn’t have sent me away; she thinks as she looks at herself in her midnight blue gown. The fabric shimmers as she moves, and stars seem to be imprinted where the fabric drips and drums. It is the most… scandalous dress Nesta’s ever worn.

It isn’t her own, and she’s surprised she even fits in one of Feyre’s dresses. Though she’s gained weight, it is not nearly enough to fill out her previous figure and she’s always been smaller than her little sister… except at the bust, where Nesta feels she’ll spill out if she trips even slightly.

Elain remarks that she looks beautiful as Nesta stares into the large mirror on the living room wall, but all she thinks is liar. Liar. Liar. Oh great pretender, you can’t pretend well enough.

Mor sweeps down the stairs with Feyre, her revealing dress a putrid red that looks so bright it hurts her eyes. Feyre is dressed in no more than cobwebs, but Nesta shakes the feeling away that women must be protected in fabric, because lace is armor and men are beasts out to prowl.

The Illyrians understand this as traditional as they are. The females are always dressed in sleeves and gowns to the ankle, but furs also adorn their skin… Because the furs are harvested by them, she remembers. Cut by them, woven by them as if to remind the males that they wear animal pelts because they are ferocious themselves. Regardless of whether they captured the beasts that stomp in the woods.

Starve then, she heard one female say. Starve then, to that husband who refused her. What were men in a world where women supported the living?

But this is a power, too, Nesta learns. These gowns, the skin that is bright and burning, the legs that go on for miles. Just like sex. Just like money… Choice and freedom hidden where skin is revealed and skirts part softly.

Oh, great pretender, pretend just a little longer.

Feyre pauses in front of Nesta, looking her over with a pleased expression and Nesta wants to claw that image off her face, but Elain sets her hands on Nesta’s shoulders, her own gown pink and pretty and light. The embodiment of spring in Nesta’s endless winter.

I am not myself tonight, she wants to yell. Who am I?

“I knew that dress would look good on you.” Feyre smiles, “I know it’s not what you usually wear, but I’m glad to see you in it.”

Nesta smiles, gritting her teeth.

“Are you all going to just stand there or are we actually leaving sometime soon?” Amren asks, leaning at the edge of the doorway.

Mor and Feyre give each other knowing glances, and Elain grins sweetly as they all walk ahead of her out onto the porch where the males are waiting, laughing, and huffing that they took forever to get ready. “Not all of us can just roll out of bed and throw on a clean shirt.”

“Rhys took longer than any of us combined. Be honest.”

Nesta swallows the apprehension as she steps out to the porch and immediately she wishes she had a jacket. She refuses to go back in and get one, because she knows if she goes back in she will not come back out.

But Cassian, takes off his own jacket, the fabric warm and soft, and sets it around her shoulders before she can say one word. The others pretend not to look, but they look… the curious, cautious stare that alight in questions that neither Nesta nor Cassian will answer.

Mor taps her heeled foot and crosses her arms. “We ready to go?” She asks, raising a brow.

Cassian gestures forward and they all move as a herd through Velaris nights.

Nesta marks every landmark she passes as if she is leaving behind a clue as to how to get back. She can hear the others laughing and joking, but she doesn’t comprehend any of the words. She looks to the cosmos. The sky swirls with purples, blues, and milky white and Nesta… feels small.

A dot on a map. A fleck of dust in the air. She grasps the edge of Cassian’s jacket, pulling it closer to herself and it smells like him. Pine and wood burning.

“I wish all nights were like this,” Feyre says breathlessly, looking to the stars.

“They are,” Rhysand jests. Feyre elbows him in the stomach, and Rhys jumps away, only to reel back in. A tether connecting the two.

“That’s not what I meant, smartass. I mean that it feels nice we’re all together again.”

At the words, Nesta stops. Her feet pause and the others keep going. She watches them go and go and go and her eyes start to burn. Her fists clenching, her teeth gritting, her eyes blinking over again.

And yet, they walk. They don’t even notice her gone…

She’s a tiny fleck of dust.

Nesta turns back towards the estate, sniffling as she quickly wipes her eyes. Angry that she is crying without a reason to cry.

The dress is suffocating, and her hair is tight around her head. Her eyes burn but not her heart, not her soul. It seems that the wind has snuffed the flame out and only whispers are left.

Pretend no longer, it says.

It’s Elain that rushes after her after the storm has settled. She pulls her by the shoulder and stops as she sees her face, probably red and blotchy. The others are miles away, but at least Elain is here…

“Go,” Nesta commands softly, for she can never be truly mean to her sister.

“Nesta—” She starts, moving her hand from her shoulder down her arm.

“I don’t feel very good.” She replies and Nesta looks to her sister. At the warm brown that looks comforting…understanding, and she wonders if Elain would ever truly understand the back and forth like waves coming and going in Nesta’s head. That make her feel as if she’s downing. Alone. Unafraid, perhaps accepting that this is her life. But always drowning. “Please just go.” She repeats, and at last gives her a small smile for reassurance. “I have a headache that’s all.”

As an afterthought, Nesta takes off the coat, crossing her arms as the cold seeps into her skin. “Give this to Cassian for me?”

Elain nods as concern is written all over her face, but she heeds her older sister’s instructions. And with one more glance behind, Nesta joins the darkness and Elain joins her group of friends.

~ “Where’s Nesta going?” Feyre asks loudly, panic in her voice without realizing that she is nearly breathless.

Cassian takes a step closer to her. Practically his own younger sister who’s in need of comfort, but… there’s someone else who needs comfort. He can feel it. He can see it as Elain comes back with his jacket in her hands.

Elain doesn’t look at them as she answers, settling for staring out into the sidra where the colorful faelights reflect across the water. “She says she doesn’t feel good so she’s going home.”

Cassian watches as she hands him his jacket, still warm from her skin and Elain looks defeated. All of a sudden tired and far away. “She told me to give this back to you,”

He grips the leather in his hand until he can count all of the folds that form in its fabric. Twelve.

Twelve folds. Twelve minutes she’s been gone.

He swallows down the worry, the fear that makes him want to rip the jacket apart, and the plain…sorrow that starts blooming like moonflowers decorating the sidewalk.

“Maybe I should try—” Feyre starts, but Elain shakes her head solemnly.

“She says she has a headache.”

The sisters look at each other as if the statement puts an end to their trying. Mor lays an arm around the girls and sighs, speaking softly—comforting. “Come on you two,” She frowns slightly, “Nothing a night of dancing can’t solve.”

“And a huge bottle of liquor,” Amren adds, “Maybe two.” Though she is equally reserved, as if the night has suddenly gotten darker and they can longer see as many stars.

Cassian wants her to see this. He wants Nesta to know this.

When she is missing, they miss her. Her sisters miss her. Amren misses her. He doesn’t want to leave without her, and… Cassian for the first time, since being back, understands. Because when she is missing, he suddenly feels very alone.

He closes his eyes, his wings rising to catch the breeze, and when he blinks awake his friends surround him. Azriel giving him a look that’s almost apologetic for the stoic shadowsinger. He can hear their laughter begin again, the lights getting brighter with every step, and Rhysand cracks a joke that Amren groans at, but makes Feyre laugh.

They are alive.

He is not back in the war. Not in Illyria. Not in any nightmare. But he’s alone… because she’s alone, and he can’t leave her. He can’t.

“Come on, Cassian, keep up!” Mor calls after him, but Cassian steps back, looking behind, practically seeing Nesta’s figure in the shadows.

“Nesta’s sick,” he responds matter-of-factly and the rest stop in front of him, a few feet ahead. Mor’s brows crease, her lips tilting down.

“You heard them; she has a headache.”

“She’s doesn’t feel good,” Cassian reiterates. “I have to go take care of her.”

“You don’t have to…” Rhys mutters under his breath.

“I want to,” He proclaims, sternly.

Feyre steps forward, her hand dropping from Rhys’s grasp. “Are you sure? Once Nesta gets a headache, it doesn’t go away very fast. She usually doesn’t want to see anyone.”

Cassian huffs a laugh, counting all the bullshit lies that Nesta must have told all these years. Headaches, my ass. She’s probably already back sequestered in some chair with a book in her hand. “You see Feyre, I too am like a headache—”

“By the Mother,” Amren complains.

He can see the look Azriel gives Mor, Mor’s smile straining as she says nothing. Rhys grasps Feyre’s hand as if he can’t stand one moment without touching her, and he leans his head back, sighing as he waits for the implication of a fight in the air.

Cassian won’t give them one. Nothing they can say will convince him to continue on to Rita’s and leave Nesta behind.

But, Elain steps forward, walking towards him.

“I’ll go with you,” She gasps.

Cassian doesn’t know how Nesta will feel about that given her silence towards her sisters, but if Nesta will not go with them, they will go to Nesta.

Elain breathes deeply, her eyes glancing to the midnight blanket set atop them. “It’ll be a sister’s day. Like old times,” she answers softly, laughing as she adds, “Except of course with you, Cassian.”

He can feel more than see Feyre stand straight, her grip tightening on Rhys’s hand. The air turns stale in the wake of their decisions, and he can see all of the doubts already forming in her head. Cassian understands these thoughts, too, for he was once inadequate to the rest of the world.

Yes, that was still a sore spot for them wasn’t it?

But Elain gestures to Feyre, her head tilting towards her baby sister. “Unless you’d rather go to Rita’s...” She adds.

Feyre’s raises her brows, but the look of shock passes quickly, and she reaches out her hand as Elain extends her own. She gives Rhysand a small, satisfied smile at having been included, before nodding to Elain. Rhys lifts the side of his mouth, but the happiness doesn’t reach his eyes.

It does not go unnoticed by any of them.

~ Nesta is dressed in pretty silk pajamas, the only pants he’s ever seen her wear. Her hair is loose and golden brown as it falls down her back, a casual, alone type of look. In which, he means that she would not look this casual if she wasn’t alone.

She hangs by the door, her eyes glazing over one, two, three of them in disbelief and something akin to irritation burns in those pale blues. At the look, Cassian wants to kiss her head in fondness, combing her soft hair with his fingers until her face is red with a feeling she’ll play off as stubborn anger.

Cassian sighs inwardly. He misses Illyria.

She crosses her arms. “Why the hell are all of you here?”

Cassian pushes past her, ignoring her question and surveying the living room as if the answer is obvious. “We’re here to take care of you. Since you’re sick.” He pronounced.

He eyes the bright lamp in the corner, the glow lighting the armchair, where a book lays flat on the seat.

Tsk. Told you so, he tells himself.

Cassian whirls to face her as Nesta stands next to her sisters, her hands on her hips. That Who do you think you are? look permanently painted on her perfect face. “Have you checked your temperature by the way? Taken any medicine? I’m positive I saw some in the main bathroom down the hall.”

“What?” Nesta demands, shaking her head.

He places his hand on her forehead and she shakes him off, her mouth dipping to a frown. “You must be sick if you can’t follow what I’m saying.”

“You must be a lunatic if you can’t understand I don’t want you here.”

“People who don’t feel good,” He offered slowly, “need to be taken care of.”

“In the murder kind of way?”

“In the ‘Nesta, there’s medicine in the main bathroom’ kind of way,” He answers haughtily. Cassian can feel Elain and Feyre’s eyes on them, the back and forth of their gaze as if their conversation is a battle and they aren’t sure who is winning. If he was a betting male, his bets would probably be on Nesta... but more so because she’d appreciate the gesture and less because he was losing.

She frowns, perhaps concluding that he in no way will back down from this. Nesta should know after all these months that Cassian cares too much for his own good and plus... he quite likes the look Nesta gives him when she gets pissy.

“Okay, but how come there’s three of you?”

Feyre opens her mouth to answer, but Cassian beats her to it.

“Why? Did you miss us? We were only gone for a few moments.”

“That in no way equates to what I just said--”

“We’d be happy to start following you around. We wouldn’t want you missing us too badly.”

Nesta reaches her hands up as if she’d wring his neck. Her eyes point daggers, and Cassian isn’t ashamed to admit shivers run down his spine, but it is certainly not from fear.

“I swear Cassian, if you bother me one more time—”

“You’ll what? Tell me, sweetheart, what you can possibly do that will make me leave when you so graciously left us all out in the cold, wondering where you went?” His eyes widen, waiting for her answer. Cassian cups his ear, tilting his head towards her as he starts to hear the tapping of her foot.

“I didn’t feel good,” She explains, crossing her arms once more.

“And as we’ve established, we’re here to take care of you.”

She gives him a bland look. “Fuck. Off.”

Instead, Cassian turns towards her sisters. Elain and Feyre standing dutifully behind the eldest, most beautiful Archeron. “Your sister’s words warm my heart,” he teases.

“Now Feyre if you could go get the medicine that Madja left,” Cassian orders brightly, “And Elain if you could heat up some water for tea. Nesta prefers peppermint.”

The two nod, but Nesta scoffs, “And, what exactly are you going to do?”

Cassian smiles, his grin wide as Nesta glares. “I’m going to make french toast.”

Feyre looks at him confused, and Elain tilts her head waiting for an explanation, but Nesta… Nesta’s eyes light up in the way that he knows she’s pleased and is trying her best to hide it.

Nesta raises her chin, sniffing at his words, as if they don’t mean too much to her, but he knows. Sweets are Nesta’s favorite food group, and french toast is her favorite food. He’s made it more times than he can count in that little cabin between the mountaintops and nothing can convince him that she’s not secretly rejoicing.

“Fine,” She answers in that dismissive way of hers, moving to her reading corner in a flourish and sitting on the chair as if it’s her throne. She picks up the book, her eyes widening as she reads the first sentence.

Nesta looks back up to him sheepishly... nonchalant and all too familiar.

Cassian smirks, wondering if he perhaps is the luckiest bastard alive.

When Nesta’s upset, he learns, she will make up stories.

It makes sense to him since she reads so many books.

Cassian can’t recount exactly when he’d heard her lie the first time, somewhere in between the glaring insults and the wine drunk days. In Illyria, he could count them all from I left my jacket at Emerie’s to it clearly wasn’t me when your wings knock everything off the shelves when you move!

He smiles as he remembers, flipping the bread on the hot griddle. The smell of vanilla and cinnamon reminding him of cold winter days and harsh moonless nights. As much as he misses Illyria, not much has changed since those months in the mountains.

Briefly, Cassian hears the sharp tone of Nesta’s grumpy antics.

“At least take a couple drops,” Feyre demands, aggravated.

“I don’t know what child you’re speaking to but point that spoon somewhere else.”

“Elain!” Feyre calls, as he can hear Nesta huff.

“You can’t just call Elain and expect me to--”

Nesta goes silent, and in a second Cassian can hear the clink of a spoon and the sound of Nesta gagging.

When Feyre speaks, she seems oddly satisfied. “It looks like I didn’t need Elain’s help after all,” she sings, laughter in her voice.

He looks at Elain who surveys the living room. She wears a soft smile and when she looks over to him her eyes are alight with mischief. “I think she’s mad,” Elain mouths.

Cassian can only smile, looking slightly to the living room and imagining her face, her ire.

He wonders, then, what it must have been like growing up as Nesta, being a part of a group of sisters who so obviously care for each other. Never to forget that they love one another. Never to be completely forgotten, and always, always unconditionally loved.

Not for the first time does the guilt settle in the pit of his stomach. He once wonders how anyone could love Nesta... Like a gods-damned idiot, he’d said that to her. Not because he truly believed it, but because it hurt to be denied by her.

Realistically, Cassian knows that he doesn’t have to worry about it anymore, when they’ve squashed this topic months ago, but still… He feels guilty hearing Feyre’s laughter, seeing Elain’s bright eyes, knowing that he too denies his friends in favor of spending time with her.

He would do it again... In a heartbeat. In one breathless moment.

How does she not see it? He questions. How does she not know how much they care for her? Because he knows. He can see it plain on their faces.

But when Cassian takes the sweet bread off the griddle, and onto a large plate for the four of them, he can tell she doesn’t suspect a thing. She sits with her book on the lone chair, while her sisters gather at the table, and he can almost see the distance between them. As if Nesta has set her book high in front of her nose to make a barrier between her and the rest of the world.

Cassian leans against the table, raising a brow.

“Are you going to sit there all day, or should we eat these ourselves?”

Nesta lowers her shield in favor of the offense, “If you touch mine, I’ll castrate you,”

Cassian shrugs, frowning for a moment contemplating the threat, tilting his head back and forth as if he is actually weighing his odds. She does know where he sleeps.

“Fair enough,” He responds in answer.

They eat until the whole platter is gone, but not before Cassian tries to steal a bite from Nesta’s plate, just to piss her off even more. She raises her fork as if she’ll stab him with it, and Cassian secretly wants her to try. If Nesta will not train with him and grant him the ability to see her skills with a sword, he will assess them elsewhere.

“Are you two always like this?” Feyre asks, abruptly. She looks to Elain as they both turn to her and Feyre looks shocked she’d spoken the words allowed.

Cassian opens his mouth to reply.

Nesta drops her fork.

The chair shrieks as she gets up from her chair, and she makes her way back to her podium where Cassian thinks she will sit there like a living statue, perfectly safe in her stony façade. He almost feels offended that she dismisses them so quickly.

Sighing under his breath, Cassian begins clearing the plates. Feyre and Elain help, whispering to each other something Cassian chooses not to listen in on, because he’s staring at her. Always her.

By the time, he’s out of the kitchen, blankets and pillows lie in the center of the room, the plush carpet underneath it all.

Elain and Feyre jumble in the kitchen in what smells of chocolate and cinnamon, and Nesta is left to her own devices in this strange, decorative landscape.

She doesn’t really fit in, he notes.

Not because she doesn’t look the part, but because she doesn’t act the part. There’s something odd about her movements, her looks, the way she carries herself. This room is casual… colorful… homely, and Nesta is rigid, straight, and her eyes, the bright grey, reach out to him.

“You’re staying?”

Cassian nods his head, that grin back on his lips. “Yes, I’ve just been informed it’s sister’s day, and as an honorary sister myself, I feel I’m allowed. Do you want me to leave?”

She looks up at him and at her perusal he lifts his wings higher. Primping, he thinks, like a gods damned fool.

She shrugs one nonchalant shoulder, looking away and back to her book. Almost too casually. Cassian can’t help the giddy feeling that erupts inside of him, that says Nesta wants him here. Nesta wants him to stay. Even if the words never come out of her lips. He has learned to read her beyond spoken language.

But Elain and Feyre come back in the room, and he notices how she tenses up. Her eyes turning molten and hard. Her lips tightening into a subdued scowl she tries to hide behind pages.

It makes his heart ache in ways he doesn’t know how to fully explain.

Nesta knows he’s pretending to sleep. He lays on the couch, his large form draped over the heavy blue, his wings not sparing any of them as she pushes them away where they fall at the top of their heads.

He snores occasionally for good measure. Loudly and offkey. She thinks she’ll tell him that later and let him remark how she’s judgmental even amongst sleeping patterns. Well, Nesta does warn him early on that she wouldn’t be any nicer.

She shifts on the hard floor, bumping her shoulders into her sisters. The heat of them making her want to throw the blankets away. She lies in the middle. Feyre to her left, fiddling with a string on the woven cloth. Elain to her right, scooping her arm into her own, until she cuddles close, tucking her head in. Nesta doesn’t know how they convinced her of this.

At first, she’s too engrossed into her book to notice, lost in seas and a sea captain that is reminiscent to Cassian and his ample physique. But also, by the way his hair is cut at the shoulders and how the wildness exudes from his smile. She will never tell him this of course lest he tease her more than he often does already.

Nesta thinks it must have been her fault, though, because the next thing she knows she’s being pulled to the carpet, being offered hot coco, and they’re all in pajamas. Feyre owns a large enough house, she wants to remark. They don’t have to sleep in the living room, together like they still live in that washed out cabin.

But then they’re asking about her book, and Illyria… and if she made any friends. Poking and prodding and… they look interested enough. So, Nesta tells them. Stubbornly at first, and then in more detail as they ask more questions, answers them until she’s sure she has never talked this much in all of her short life.

All good things must come to an end, though, and they lie complacent and quiet while Nesta looks to the ceiling. She counts every color in the painted swirls. Golds and blues and—Cassian snores.

Nesta lifts her head, ready to smack him with a pillow, but Elain giggles softly.

At the sound, Nesta turns to her sister, but Elain is looking at Feyre, a fond look on her face. Her baby sister smirks slightly, holding her grin tightly in her cheeks.

She gazes at them both, suspicious.

It’s Elain who treads carefully, “Cassian is… awfully sweet.”

Oh, gods.

Nesta sighs, rolling her eyes. His head is only going get bigger.

Feyre shifts to her side, laying her head on her hand. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like anyone.”

Before Nesta can look appalled and answer back that she’s never said she “liked” Cassian, Elain replies.

“She liked Tomas.”

Nesta doesn’t say a word, but even unconsciously she knows Cassian tenses. He knows all about him, can probably pinpoint exactly when the pin drops. She can feel her fists clench between the fabric. Would it rip like her dress that day, she questions.

Feyre scowls, disapprovingly. “Tomas was a—He was a—”

“Poor excuse for a human,” Nesta says, her voice drawing from her throat like music.

Nesta refuses to say anymore, and her sisters seem to take her sudden silence as a plea to drop the subject.

“Oh,” Elain finishes, but perks back up, “But Cassian is--”

“Nothing like Tomas, thankfully,” She answers forcefully. “And that’s all I’ll say about either of them.”

Nesta sees Feyre give Elain a look. Pitiful Nesta, they probably think. Shutting everyone away, can’t bother to hold a conversation.

She lays on her side, wishing she was on the outskirts of them both so she can turn her back on both of them. But the floor is hard and it hurts her shoulder, and she is forced to turn back and begin her venture with the ceiling anew.

“I’m glad your home,” Feyre whispers after some time, as Elain squeezes her arm in what feels like an agreement.

You wouldn’t be if you hadn’t sent me away, she thinks. But instead of answering, Nesta closes her eyes, and pretends to sleep.

“How was my performance? Ten out of ten?”

Elain continues to comb Nesta’s hair as she sleeps. But instead of commenting on his question, she smiles up at him, far more teasing than he’s ever seen her.

"You like her,” She says, not a question at all. Feyre whips towards Elain, giving her a look that seems baffled that she outright says what they’re both thinking. “You get on each other's nerves. You argue incessantly. You have an act for pissing her off that’s rather impressive. But you like her.”

“Is that your seer skills?” Cassian drawls.

“That’s my sister skills,” She answers brightly. Elain shrugs a shoulder, “Well and anyone with eyes can tell.”

“It’s true,” Feyre interjects. “Nesta may deny it, but… something is going on between you two.”

“You are both too nosy for your own good.”

“But then again, I’m not hearing a denial. Am I Elain?”

Elain laughs, shaking her head. “I haven’t heard one yet. It seems he might have really fallen for our big sister. What do you think? Should we allow her hand?”

“I think Nesta has more of a say in that than us. Maybe we should wake her so she can decide? What do you think, summer wedding?”

Cassian huffs, sitting up on the couch and crossing his arms. “You two think you’re really funny.”

“I think your antics make us laugh,” Feyre replies, smiling wide. “Why don’t you just tell her? Assuming you haven’t.” Feyre back tracks, looking to Elain in fear. “You haven’t right? Did she reject you?”

Cassian groans, taking a throw pillow from the couch and throwing it at Feyre. It hits her square in the face. Feyre scoffs, reaching for the pillow, ready to throw it like a javelin, but Elain lifts her hands.

“Stop!” She shushes, checking on Nesta who tosses the blanket in her sleep. The medicine Madja left had left Nesta drowsy and she had quickly fallen asleep after the sister’s kept her talking. Cassian doubts she’ll wake anytime soon.

But Feyre drops the pillow, pointing viciously. “You got lucky.”

Cassian grins victorious. Feyre lifts a brow.

“Why?” She prods, as if the question is her payback. “Why not stop this charade?”

Cassian doesn’t know how to answer. He’s almost afraid Nesta will wake and scold him herself, but she rests peacefully where she’s tucked in tightly once more.

He can’t help the fondness that appears on his face, he can’t help most of what he feels for her. She was a surprise, after all. A happy one. But he wasn’t looking for her, the female of his dreams. He didn’t think she even existed.

But then… Here she is.

She gets under his skin, warms his blood in ways that are both invigorating and infuriating. But Nesta… they understand each other. In ways that no one else could or dared to try. They see each other, accept each other. The ugly in spite of the good. The good in spite of the ugly. Every single part.

So, when Feyre look at him expectedly, Cassian asks himself truly what is he waiting for?

They’ve slept together, though he will not tell them that. He’s sure she’d maim him if he did. They live together… sort of now. Her stuff is still in his house in Windhaven. There’s bookshelves and wallpaper and tiny glasses that Nesta says she likes. And, he is always near her. They spend nearly everyday together, and when he’s not near her, he thinks of when he’s going to see her, what he’s going to say. He enjoys hearing her rant about her stories and he wants to know all of her thoughts. What does she think of Illyria, the conflict, the treaties, but also about the new bakery down the street?

Truly, they’re together. Aren’t they?

But… not really.

It’s different in Illyria. It’s different in Velaris. It’s easier in Windhaven. It’s infinitely harder surrounded by them, when Nesta doesn’t like his family and he’s not all too sure they like her.

“I’m waiting for… the right time.”

Feyre blinks and Elain frowns and Cassian is sure he looks baffled at his own words… Right time? Didn’t he want more of it?

Wasn’t he losing it every time he didn’t make a move?

Huh?

“But aren’t you just wasting time?” Feyre concludes, “Wouldn’t it make more sense to just tell her how you feel and damn the consequences?”

Elain tilts her head, her gaze squinting at him. “Haven’t you waited this long?”

“You sister does have a say in this you know. She could very well take the lead and confess. I certainly wouldn’t stop her.”

Cassian watches as they give each other a bland look, something that calls Cassian an idiot without saying it aloud.

“Nesta reads romance novels,” Feyre offers obviously, as if that is answer enough.

At his confused gaze, sweet Elain rolls her eyes. “Nesta is… hopelessly romantic. Even if she doesn’t seem like it. She always has been since she was young. And she’s very traditional, if you haven’t noticed. Won’t dare to wear pants, not that I do either, but I’ll try new things, new foods. It took Nesta three months to even try a bit of jam on her toast when I first started cooking.”

“It took her three years to stop putting her hair up in those braids. Two seasons for Nesta to go into restaurant down the street, three to go shopping for new clothes that weren’t corsets and long gowns.” Feyre argues. “She needs to be very comfortable to do things that are unfamiliar to her… But she’s comfortable with you.”

“We can tell,” Elain smiles, lifting a shoulder. “She seeks you out when you enter a room, her eyes follow you. She won’t talk to anyone, but she’ll argue with you easily. Even seems to enjoy it. Nesta makes sure that I make blueberry muffins on Monday’s, the same day that you come back early from training… I probably wasn’t supposed to tell you that but here we are.”

Cassian looks down at Nesta, her nose red and her lashes casting shadows on her cheeks. Gods, he loves her doesn’t he? And… she loves him?

Negative. Impossible.

But not impossible…

Because she… cares for him? He thinks. Maybe. He’s not certain.

But what he is certain of is her sister’s knowledge of all things pertaining to her.

“You pay a lot of attention to Nesta’s actions.”

Elain looks to Feyre, “Is that surprising? She’s our sister.”

“I just thought… I don’t know.”

“No, what?” Feyre pleads, “That we didn’t care about her. Did Nesta say that?”

Feyre sighs. “She’s never going to forgive me for sending her to Illyria.”

Cassian grimaces, but shrugs a shoulder. “I don’t know about that, but she’s—Nesta’s trying her best. Perhaps, it’s not the right time,” he repeats back to them, a smug look on his face.

Feyre does hit him with a pillow this time.

Elain frowns, staring at Nesta’s pale skin. “How do we help her?”

Cassian and Feyre pause their antics, and stare at Elain in her yellow cotton dress.

“I think only Nesta can tell you that. Maybe ask, first?”

“And if she says nothing?”

“Then be there for her and… try again.” He answers, softly. “Nesta reads romance novels, yes, because she’s a romantic at heart, but she also reads because the books are there. They are always there, when she’s alone, when she’s upset, when she needs to escape there’s another world. More characters, more stories to rely on because sometimes this world and the people in it aren’t very reliable.”

Cassian gets up from the sofa, as the Archerons look to him where he stretches, striding to the lamp. He looks to them both and then to Nesta.

He’d be someone she could rely on, Cassian promises himself. All of them could rely on him. He’d take care of this little family he now belongs to—wants desperately to belong to…

“Make a world she doesn’t have to escape from,” He calls out softly.

“Now get some sleep.”

He reaches to turn off the lamp, as Elain lays down content with the answer. Feyre gazes up at him, her lips titling upwards, raising a hand in goodnight. And he watches them both, cuddle up to Nesta, tucking her in to their embrace as if they’ll protect her from the world.

Cassian hopes they know Nesta, without a doubt, would travel to the ends of the world for both of them.

Tagged: @cassianscool @fatimafares123 @rotstamp @nestalytical @my-fan-side @pizzaneverdisappoints @courtofjurdan @nahthanks @nestable @soitsgorgeous @arin1030

This is way longer than I thought, but it was really easy to write surprisingly. I think either I have more skill or I make things way too complicated on a regular basis.

I really, really loved writing this in-between stage of Nesta and Cassian being officially together. Having some sort of connection that they haven’t worked out fully yet. I absolutely loved writing Cassian hopelessly devoted to Nesta, but I wanted it to be subtle, a quiet sort of devotion.

I have a fascination with writing Nesta done with everyone, because well she has a right to be, but also because she reminds me so much of a Darcy character from 2005 Pride and Prejudice where she’s just a hopeless, awkward bean whose so inherently introverted that she can’t stand to have people around her and then ends up being rude for no reason, but also has that complexity about her where she secretly does want people around her but she doesn’t know how to ask for it or create the boundaries that she’s comfortable with. It’s always so interesting writing Nesta. I’m going to miss it when the book comes out. SOON! But hopefully, I get more content to write and not less. I’m still thinking of finishing “Queen of Monsters” regardless of the book, since I’ve written so much of that. I just haven’t posted it and I need something to hold me over for the next one.

The next one-shot (provided I write it) will be actually about the Inner Circle trying to get closer with Nesta, because they figure that they’re kind of making a line between all of them if they don’t start including her. But Nesta absolutely does not like being around them and is almost grumpy the whole time. I think it’s funny. But you know, maybe it does helps… you never know.

Anyways happy reading! And it’s almost the release date woohooo!!!

Reblog, like, comment, let me know if you want to be tagged on the next one.

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #feyre archeron #elain archeron #acosf #acofas #nessian fanfiction #acomaf #acowar #acotar #vidalinav

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genderfluid-insomniac · 3 years

Text

"Wrapped around her finger" ~ Cherry Blossom x Daughter!reader

words: 1.3k

“Y/N! Darling, where are you? We have to head to S!” Cherry looked around for you and heard your voice call from the other room, walking in on an adorable sight. You were playing with a small skateboard that you could use with your fingers, and Carla was answering your questions as she was charging.

“Hi, daddy! Look I’m using a skateboard like you!” Giggling as you use your hands to make it jump, “Woah, look at that! You just might be better than me. Wanna go see the kids, sweet pea?” You excitedly looked up and ran to him, hugging his legs as Kaoru put you in a harness on his chest.

Picking up Carla and laughing softly as you small hands playing with his tied-up pink hair. Your own pink and black hair is tied in a braid down your back, out of the way, and won’t knot up much to Cherry’s distress.

He went out to his motorcycle and put on your small helmet along with his own, making sure you were strapped in and safe. Driving off, your laughter at the fast pace he was going being drowned out by the engine and wind whipping his hair around.

Soon enough you both reached S, seeing the others wave him over and the fans of his gush at him and starting fangirling over you. Cherry was always hesitant to bring you to S for several reasons, number one being Adam and the other being he would never want you to get hurt. Whenever he did have to leave you, he trusts you to Joe or Reki (and the rest of the gang).

Although you have no idea about your fans and everyone adoring you, you have some idea of it and can often get away from your dad if you want to with some puppy dog eyes. Not that you’d ever want to get away from him but there are times where you’d sneak away from him and cause him quite a bit of stress when he can’t find his daughter.

You’d always be found around Joe or Miya and listen to them tell stories or watch Miya play games and play with his hair. Kaoru parked his bike and went over to his friends, taking you out of the harness and holding you on his hip.

Joe was the first one to run over and immediately grab you out of your dad’s arms and lift you into his shoulders, humming something and laughing along with you. “Hey! Be careful with her, you gorilla. Don’t let her fall!” His expression of concern turned to annoyance when Joe shot him a look.

“I always am and besides why would I ever want to hurt my favorite niece.” He lifted you off his shoulders and put you on his hip, shifting his attention mostly to Cherry. The others came over, Miya rushing over on his board and skating in front of Joe, catching your attention as he circled you and made you smile.

Grabbing onto his finger as he passed and he played with your other hand, grinning as Reki and Langa came over. They both looked to Cherry for approval and when he nodded, they rushed over and took you out of Joe’s arms. Playing with Reki’s headband and red hair, you started mumbling,

“How’s your hair always so red?” babbling as you point to Langa’s vibrant blue hair as well, “Your’s is blue,” He made a confused expression and pointed to himself, “Yeah it is and you have similarly bright hair, but you don’t dye it like I do.” He commented receiving a soft laugh from Reki who took over the conversation.

“Babe, I think she means how we always have very colorful hair. It’s not like you see many others with colored hair.” Reiki glanced at your eyes wide with curiosity, “I was born with my hair like you were and Langa dyes his with color, which I often help him with.”

Langa blushed and look away sheepishly, mumbling something about that supposedly being a secret. Joe and Cherry look at the kids obsess over you and chat, smiling to themselves, and the chef walked over to your dad.

“She seriously is adorable, I’m glad they get along well.” Shadow walked over and popped in, “Y/N practically has the entirety of S wrapped around her finger. No way Adam could even get near her without facing a fight.”

Joe grinned and playfully shoved Cherry, sending him a wink as Cherry went to flirt back, “You know, she’s missed your food, as have I. I can’t get her to eat anything else,” He perked up, “Really?”

“Yes, you should take more pride in your food, Kojiro. It’s really good. Why do you think we always get dinner there?” A faint blush covered Joe’s cheeks and he wrapped an arm around his lover.

Some commotion was heard as a known voice shouted, “Hello bitches and bros and non-binary hoes.” Skating around and waving gracefully to everyone, and spotting the gang, noticing you still in Reki’s arms. “Oh! And little Y/N’s here too!” Langa immediately stiffed and got in front of you and his boyfriend, Miya doing something similar and putting a hand on your shoulder. He was still wiry of Adam and who wouldn’t be but for you, he’d be strong.

Your dad and the adults came over, giving him a warning look, “Adam. You put a hand on her and I swear I will call the cops on you.” “Yes, Yes I remember our agreement. I won’t touch her but you said I can still talk to her!” You giggling and reached out a small gabby hand for him.

Softly smiling, Adam knelt down to your height and lowered his voice, “I know your dad doesn’t like me but I know you are being taught by the best skaters besides me of course.” Reki and Langa stiffened more, still keeping their guard up.

Truthfully Kaoru and Kojiro had rarely seen this side of Adam and it gave them hope, but it’d be a long time till they could trust him again after sending Cherry to the hospital a while ago. Yes, Adam had expressed his regret and apologies for doing it through a letter but that still wouldn’t be enough.

“One day, I hope they trust me enough to skate with you but until then I’ll try my best to win their faith in me back.” He looked to the group and gave a soft smile, “I mean it,” Skating by Cherry and stopping adjacent to him, “Congrats, Y/N really is special and you’ll be a great father. You always were the secret mom of the group back then.”

Kaoru nodded and softened his expression, “Thanks. Hopefully, someday you can show us that you do mean well.” Adam bid farewell and took off, leaving the rest of the group to relax. The teen let you down and you ran back to your dad, stumbling on some loose rocks along the way.

He picked you up and rubbed your noses together, kissing your forehead as you let out a yawn.

#cherry blossom #skate the infinity

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uwua3 · 4 years

Note

hmmm can i request masumi moving on from the director to the assistant director (reader)? like how he would transition and realize that he doesn’t actually love the director and is falling in love with the reader instead? thank you so much. i love your headcanons. theyre super lengthy, and they capture the emotions of the characters perfectly!! keep up the good work, love! :)

thank you so much!!! i’m so glad that i can portray the emotions of a character somewhat well 🥺 i often have a hard time pinpointing exact feelings so i’m so happy it doesn’t hold back my writings! i will keep doing my best to bring you the coolest pieces ever, mark my words!!! but this prompt is so ??? interesting that i’ve been thinking about it outside of tumblr, you know! i’ve held this off until i had a solid idea so here i am! ready to bring this to justice, wish me well!!! ♡

summary: masumi’s love language is making playlists, apparently

warnings: absent parents, one (1) argument, unrequited love

author’s note: please understand masumi was a hopeless romantic teen who grew up without love so his crush on izumi is definitely unhealthy, but it makes sense for his background TT i hope he overcomes a character arc where he “falls out of love” and loves himself more :D

word count: 3,666

music: breakfast in the park – scotty sire

one playlist, one song.

🌸💌 usui masumi

everything masumi did was for izumi

he acted on stage flawlessly by the script just to hear her approval from backstage. he put his acting career before his studies to have her praise the next day when he memorized his lines. he woke up for izumi, and fell asleep to see her sooner. eat, sleep, and breathe for izumi. masumi was in love

it didn’t matter if she loved him back, it was the feeling he wanted

growing up, no one loved him. so this unrequited love wasn’t painful, maybe it’s what he deserved for being so hard to love. if only he was better, did everything to improve, used every waking hour of his time to become the person izumi wanted him to be, then maybe he’d be deserving

masumi loved izumi, at least, so he thought

(but was this true love? why did the people he love always reject him? what was wrong, what did he have to do to be loved?)

it was another day, masumi opened his eyes and his first immediate thought was to greet izumi “good morning” and make sure she had her breakfast the way she liked it. he would pull a chair out for her, sit across the table after preparing her favorite coffee perfectly, and spend every second in between with her until they had dinner together

it was a cycle, a pattern misumi couldn’t find himself not doing. he lived for it, it’s what he was born to do

when masumi hurried to the kitchen to remain on schedule, he stopped by the entrance. someone else was in izumi’s place, a mug in your hand with a packet of papers open on the counter. you didn’t notice the teen by the door as you read through the stack

huh... you weren’t izumi

you looked up from the fine text and saw a boy staring at you with an apprehensive expression, as if he was wishing to will you away with the sheer force of his glare. in fact, he even appeared frustrated, his eyes narrowed and arms crossed over his chest

(of course he was angry! you were in izumi’s place, you interrupted his entire plan of the day! this was taking time out of his “loving izumi” schedule)

before you could say anything, the director walked into the room and you knew what was going on. the teen’s eyes practically became hearts, you could hear the pulse of his heartbeat from where you were, he instantly smiled and his whole face changed

it didn’t take any skills whatsoever to know izumi had a (not so) secret admirer in the dorms

“masumi!” izumi said, smiling back at him and missing the way he immediately melted at the way she pronounced his name. masumi suddenly wanted to hear it again and again. if he had a tail, it’d be wagging everywhere from how overwhelmed he was with emotion

he trailed after her like a puppy, seeking her attention and touch as he mindlessly followed with wide sparkling eyes and a permanent blush

as he tried to continue their day as normal, izumi led him to you with a big grin as she placed him in front of you. he didn’t bother turning to look at you, his entire focus was on izumi like he was stuck in a daydream

it wasn’t until izumi said those words that changed the rest of his life that he snapped his eyes towards you

“—meet our new assistant director! they’re going to be your acting coach!”

and ever since then, masumi’s hated you

it didn’t take long before the spring troupe members confessed izumi used to be masumi’s daily acting coach after practice. now that you took over her position, you basically stole him away from her (meaning less time for masumi to try to win over his true love)

(truthfully, izumi was grateful you replaced her. it was mentally draining to have to reject every single advance from the lovesick teen without breaking his heart. she pulled you into a hug with a relieved exhale, thanking you for your service as you wondered what she meant by that. you found out very quickly afterwards)

masumi couldn’t have ditched extra practice or else he’d let izumi down. so, he stayed against his will, using every chance to silently express his complaints about spending his limited time with you instead of izumi

of course, you didn’t react. you wanted to make a good impression for your first official job as the mankai assistant director (thank god your high school had a connection to offer apprentinceships), knowing this was an opportunity of a lifetime to even be inside the theatre business

(yet, you were questioning if masumi was a test or not. was this a test to prove you were patient, respectful, and willing to adapt to different types of actors? there was no way this kid was this in love with a grown woman, he couldn’t have possibly been this infatuated with izumi to the point of desperation)

(he was)

a week or two into extended practice and you were already stretched thin. masumi never took off his goddamn headphones, his volume on max with rock music damaging his eardrums as he barely paid attention to you. just nodded whenever you attempted to reprimand him, he didn’t care at all as he treated you with no respect

you were tempted to snatch his headset off and make him actually do something. you stood across from him in the practice room, his slouched posture completely not fitting the character he was portraying and his mumbled words the exact oppoosite of his performance whenever izumi was around

as he skimmed over his part and boredly stated the line in a monotonous attitude, you took a deep breath in and out with a forced smile

“masumi, perhaps you should emote more, with feeling.” you advised, your cheeks hurting from how strained your facial expressions were. masumi hummed, rolling his eyes as he turned the volume up higher (how was that even possible?)

“masumi, please pay attention.” you warned, an edge to your voice as masumi didn’t even acknowledge you. he glanced towards the door, as if hoping izumi would come through, then at the clock with a very disappointed sigh

“masumi.” you said, clutching the script in your fist as you tried to not cross your arms. your patience was on thin ice, how long would his bratty and arrogant attitude hold? you exhaled sharply, trying to maintain your composure for the sake of your internship

he didn’t respond. he yawned and stretched, as if he had just woken up. was masumi spaced out this entire time? you went to open your mouth and ask about his well–being (perhaps, you were being too critical of him. you were also a high school student, he must’ve been pressured in class), but before you could speak, he turned away with a curse

“shut up already, you’re so fake.” masumi mumbled, about to push his headphones over his ears completely but you threw the script onto the floor, startling him as it was your turn to glare at him

“usui masumi!” you shouted with disappointment, not believing your ears. why were his first words to you an insult? you wanted to go back to the stage of your relationship where he didn’t speak at all

masumi stared at you with an impatient look, as if he was waiting for you to get it over with already

“you want the truth, then? well, here it is!”

before you could stop yourself, you released all the anger you bottled up ever since you worked with him in a singular sentence

“izumi doesn’t love you, she never did and she never will, so give up already.”

this was the first time masumi even reacted to your words. his eyes widened, his hands frozen hovering above his headphones and his breath hitched in his throat. you instantly knew what you said was out of line, and when you tried to apologize, masumi sprinted out of the practice room rubbing at his eyes

the door slammed close, echoing in the corridor as you released a breath you weren’t aware you were holding. what could you do now? practice was over early, apparently

you were waiting for it to come, you knew you were being fired. you anxiously paced the floor, checking your phone multiple times to see if a notification with your resignation was arriving. it never did, even throughout the night, as you arrived to the mankai dorms with the weight of your outburst on your shoulders

as usual, you greeted the other troupes with respect despite being around the same age as them. in terms of their careers, they were leaps and bounds and years ahead of you and you made sure they knew that. they responded back friendly enough, offering sympathy most times whenever it was time to work with masumi

this time, the dorms were awkwardly quiet. it looked as if everyone was wary, looking out for something, on edge as they quietly moved around and tip–toed outside a certain door. members shushed each other with a hiss whenever a cabinet door slammed shut, or a bowl clattered against the table surface too long. it was an organized plan to not die, apparently

“what’s—” you started but were immediately silenced by a few pushing their pointer fingers to their lips with a warning expression. you bowed slightly as an apology and lowered your voice, glancing around you for the threat

“what’s wrong?” you whispered and everyone didn’t hesitate to point to masumi’s dorm room door. you learned that, to your surprise, masumi refused to leave his dorm and didn’t even let izumi in (you also found out he didn’t tell anyone what had happened between you two and your lack of professionalism)

you guessed this was going to be your apology then for not making you lose your job on the first day

when you straightened your back and confidently made your way to masumi’s door, the hushed warnings and pleas not to perish right then and there faded when you rapidly knocked on the surface with a stubborn intent to your actions

“masumi, it’s time for practice.” you called through the door, able to pick up on the vibrations of the music he was blasting through a speaker. no response, as expected of the drama queen (he was a teenager, after all)

“masumi, come outside or i’m making you.” you demanded, knowing he heard you when the volume was lowered a bar. it was instantly increased to the max, making most of the boys wince and cover their ears as the floor beneath them shook. you knew what this was: a challenge

scrolling through your albums, you found it and pressed play

without warning, masumi whipped his head towards his door as he heard something other than his own music

were you... were you playing the latest single of his favorite band?

you pressed your phone speaker below the door frame, letting it pass through the crack as he slowly turned down his own volume, staring at where the sound was coming from

after more than half the song, you breathed a sigh of relief when his door finally opened. masumi stood in front of you, his headphones pushed down to his neck, as he observed you (it was like he was really seeing you for the first time)

“you...” masumi paused, unsure how to continue. the song was winding down and fading out, coming to an end as he blankly stared at you. you fidgeted under his stare gazing through your soul, wondering if you had gone too far before—

“you know my favorite band?”

you blinked in surprise, as if you were expecting literally any other accusation but that. you nervously laughed, rubbing the back of your neck as you looked anywhere but at him. was it weird to admit that?

“y–yeah, of course. you play them all the time, so i assumed. i took a listen, they’re not bad.” you rambled, about to continue before masumi bent down to grab your smartphone. he held it out to you, which you took as he glanced at you up and down. was that, an impressed look to his face?

“of course they’re ‘not bad’. i listen to them.” masumi said, taking his script and leaving in the direction of the practice room without another word. you scrambled after him, attempting to keep up (you were usually the one dragging him to go)

masumi tried not to think about it too hard, but he did anyways

izumi didn’t even know what type of music he liked, but you did

it was during that fateful practice where masumi actually made an effort to try, and it’s like the fight from yesterday didn’t even happen

mankai couldn’t believe it—you actually managed to coax masumi out of his toxic mood swings. even izumi had a hard time processing it, confirming her gut feeling that she hired you for a reason

your hours with him increased, coincidentally enough

ever since then, you began learning more and more about who masumi truly was. any other person would’ve dismissed him as problematic for his borderline–creepy attraction to izumi, but past that, you realized there was a deepy rooted traumatic reason why masumi sought love from a select few

masumi was more than his love at first sight crush on izumi. you learned through his short, slightly rude responses, that his parents were absent from his life. when you put two and two together, it was obvious his guardians abroad didn’t give him the approval he needed as a child

(you made an effort to praise him more, genuinely complimenting his talents and encouraging him to do even better. you never noticed, but masumi’s face burned from being appreciated for once)

yet, you weren’t afraid to discipline him. you knew uninvolved parents meant a lack of authority in his life, resulting in his indifferent approach to everything. in a way, your ability to keep a level head but still reprimand him when necessary kept practice productive and functional (you learned being honest didn’t hurt his feelings one bit)

your relationship with masumi bloomed to be more than two aspiring actors. if you were lucky enough, you would even consider him a friend

he liked checking out new physical music releases in the form of cds and had a huge collection of post/progressive rock organized on his desk. when you gave him a mixtape of your favorites to share your music taste, you noticed it was closest to his player

(one time, izumi was worried about him. it had been quite some time since the last time masumi tried flirting with her. she was about to walk into his room before izumi noticed it was left open a crack. she looked in and saw masumi was lying in bed, staring at nothing with a small smile on his face as he listened to an unfamiliar song. it was your cd on repeat)

after school, you and masumi often rode the train back home if the mood called for it. he always leaned against the doors, staring out of the blurry windows with his headphones on and seemingly thinking of everything at once (probably izumi, considering how many times he subconsciously smiled to himself)

you sat beside him, focused on your apprentinceship work and staying on top of all your tasks. it was pretty much a quiet ride home, your friendship with masumi didn’t require talking to fill the silence. the comfortable gap between you two was expected, just two people co–existing with one another

except this time, it was different

you opened your laptop, about to start working before you glanced at masumi and stopped. he didn’t have his classic white headphones on, he always had them

before you could offer your own, masumi turned towards you, holding out one earbud with the other in his left ear

when you took it and placed it on your own ear, masumi slid over to sit closer and the casual distance suddenly closed. he shuffled through some playlist, he liked making them even if he did it rarely

masumi turned his head to look at you, and he seemed to be quietly asking what your opinion was on the track

(how much time had you spent with him that you had familiarized yourself with his complex body language?)

you closed your laptop and put it back in your bag. scooting closer, your legs were touching as you leaned over to read the title, humming a sound of agreement

“this is one of my favorites.” you confirmed, moving back only to realize how close your faces were. one wrong move and—

“me too.” masumi said, and he smiled

you wondered where you had seen that smile for and remembered: it was the smile he had given izumi every time he saw her in the morning

could it be?

you two listened to the music for the rest of the train ride, feeling as if you were trapped in a timeless space as no rules applied here. it was like your own little world, with masumi by your side and the background soundtrack of all your favorites

(misumi remembered your favorites, too. at the departure, you noticed he had messaged you a link. it was to the playlist he played earlier and a comment: thanks for the mixtape)

you two headed to the dorms, hands brushing and no words exchanged, like always. you weren’t aware how close you had become with the boy in love until now, especially with a singular cord keeping you two together

yet, it was as if nothing changed. when masumi saw izumi, he became the character everyone thought he was: a lovesick teenager in an unrequited relationship. he left you and sought izumi’s nonstop approval, his earbud pulled out of your ear as you watched

why was he such a different person around her? which version was his true self? and why did you want to know so bad?

(maybe, you wanted to be the one who knew masumi inside and out)

after that, you asked to ride the train home more. it was one of the only times you had him for yourself

sharing music became a way of communication over talking. you could predict masumi’s mood based on what he was listening to, and you always knew what to do when it came down to it. if masumi had something to express without his usual bitterness, he’d send a song and wait for you to listen it in full just to be understood. sometimes, his playlists even spelled out sentences

your relationship with masumi was mutual, and that was a first for him. he didn’t feel like he had to spend every second with you to confirm your friendship. he sometimes saw you irregularly throughout the day, but enjoyed it regardless

what was different was you made an effort to see him, you showed up to practice early with new song suggestions and plans to attend more music concerts. you included him, didn’t let him off easy, and had high expectations without being like his parents

no one wanted him around like you did, he had never felt this before. was this what it was like? being loved?

as you guys kept walking home with his earbuds connected, masumi was fully aware of how he wanted to hold your hand

“what is it?” masumi began, pushing his hand in his pant pocket to keep his voice steady. “love?”

you stopped, causing him to pause with you as he felt the tug of the cord. masumi turned towards you, the lyrics still played in the background as the instruments continued. a verse passed before you answered slowly, as if you were unsure and contemplative yourself

“love... love is what you feel. it isn’t defined, but it’s what you have for something that makes you happy, that motivates you to do your best.”

masumi didn’t seem to understand, so you explained further

“like, doesn’t music make you happy?”

masumi nodded

“then you love music!”

masumi seemed to understand as you two kept walking. but, masumi was even more confused, because didn’t that mean he loved you? you made him happy, you were his source of motivation

“then do you love me?”

you didn’t stop this time, but walked faster as you fell out of step with masumi. a new song was playing, but you couldn’t hear it over your own heartbeat

“don’t ask things like that, especially when you love izumi.” you laughed, but there was no humor whatsoever. masumi didn’t say anything else and the silence returned, it wasn’t as comfortable anymore

when you two walked through the front door, masumi hesitated. wasn’t this the point where he quickly latched onto izumi’s side? why did he want to stay with you? masumi glanced at you and before he could say anything, you gave him back your earbud and left to do your job

izumi waved at him, and masumi followed. for some reason, he questioned if izumi had ever heard his music before

(he realized, he never made a playlist for her)

it was nearing the end of your shift, you had blocked out your thoughts with the masumi method: maxing out your headphone volume as you revised masumi’s lines and corrections for next practice

your phone pinged, making you flinch at the sudden sound as you pushed the papers to the side. you sat with your chin on your knees, leaning against the practice room mirror as you lazily grabbed your phone, unlocking it to see a new text from masumi

it was another playlist titled “you make me happy, you motivate me”

you opened it and was about to press play before you noticed there was only one song

“i love you”

#usui masumi #masumi usui #a3! act! addict! actors!#a3!#act! addict! actors!#a3! actor training game #a3! headcanons #act! addict! actors! headcanons #mankai a3!#mankai company #a3! x reader #a3 x reader #masumi x reader #a3! masumi #a3 masumi

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biggirllifestyle · 3 years

Text

Forbidden Kisses

Summary: Maybe things were just too good to be true, and maybe the ones you love are not who they say they are.

Pairing: Clark Kent: OFC (Original Female Character)

Work Count: 2k+

Warnings: Dark Thoughts, People in danger (maybe some background deaths), the writing sucks I apologize for that too

A/N: Hi, I am posting a second part to SLK, I apologize again that it took a turn to this, my cousin has already cursed me and made me promise there will be more, but this came to me one night as laid in bed and I just imagined Clark and I had a conversation and it just progressed from there, I thank everybody who showed some love to my first part, I am glad that you enjoyed it and you were able to relate to it, please don’t fret we big girls are worth the love we deserve and more.

Edited for mistakes: 11/03/2022

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“What do you think of Superman?”

Clark asks one late night as we both lay in bed together, the suddenness of his question stirs me awake as I stare at Clark who has a serious look on his face, after 2 months of dating, we have been spending more time with each other to the point that Clark began to stay over.

But Clark’s questions confuse me because never has he ever mentioned or questioned anything about Metropolis hero. But looking back I can see where he was coming from considering that he was the usual person that Mr. White would assign articles about Superman.

“What about him, I think he’s a good guy if he can bring so much peace to the city,” I said to him with a little shrug, “I mean he’s that beacon of hope that is needed everywhere, so I wouldn’t know what else to say, his actions speak louder than words, no?”

Clark was quiet, mulling over my words, he took a deep breath as he continued, “if you had to choose between Superman or me, from being a part of your life, who would you choose?” His question stopped me a look of confusion spreading on my face, “what kind of question is that, is Perry making you write for the gossip column or something, why are you asking me that?” Clark stayed quiet waiting for my answer, I sighed knowing that I wasn’t going to get anything out of him until I answered his question.

“To be truthfully honest with you, I would choose you over Superman every day, the world might need Superman as many times as they want,” I said to him, “but me, as long as I have Clark Kent by my side I can live happily.”

I scooted forward and planted a soft kiss upon Clark’s lips, he deepened it as he professed his feelings wholeheartedly, when we separated, I felt breathless the same way I had felt when we had our first kiss, I sighed happily as I snuggled closer to his body, “The world can have their Superman but me I just need my Clark Kent.”

After Clark and I’s, late-night conversation, I began to look into Metropolis's hero. From the perspective that I could judge, Superman or Kal-El did what he could to save all without seeking any form of credit or reimbursement for any of his efforts.

The news depicted him as a god and the people saw him as a savior, never in my time living in Metropolis did I ever pay so much attention to Superman, of course coming from a small town in Texas finding out that a superhero was living in your city was different but after a while I just ignored it?

But because of Clark, I was now paying clear attention, what I could notice the most was the supposed romantic relationship between Kal-El and local award-winning journalist Lois Lane, Clark’s coworker, and friend, I met Lois she was a very kind and intellectual woman, so it would make complete and utter sense that they would be involved romantically, this is something that I had mentioned to Clark one night as we made dinner together, “They’re the likely pair to end up together,

“I said as I cut up some vegetables, “She’s beautiful and intelligent, and he seems to know what he wants and of course, she would be his choice.”

Clark was silent his back towards me before he spoke, voice gravely and firm as if he was grinding his teeth at the prospect, something I had never heard before from him, “Louis is not dating Superman, she has never dated him and they never had anything to do with each other, so keep that ridiculous notion out of your head.”

That night was the first night I had excused myself from dinner and went home, Clark must have felt guilty from our conversation because for the continuing week he apologized and sent out flowers and presents to my work until I finally put my foot down and forgave him. Everything seemed to go back to normal until the day that the infamous kiss occurred.

The day was anything but normal, that day Leah and I had to open early at the shop, so I had left Clark at my apartment knowing that today he had the day off from work, it started with a loud explosion coming from downtown, which we were just a few blocks away so we could feel when everything shook around and fell from where they were, a loud alarm sounded around the city and the news on TV showed showcased the explosion from a top view perspective, the news conductor warned everyone to stay indoors, we rushed to the front as we ushered people inside the cafe for shelter, on-screen it showed people rushing about trying to find safety, in the middle of it all a man stood, and at his side, Louis Lane stood.

She seemed to struggle against his restraints before giving up, but then as if by magic she was gone from the scene, our inhibitors murmuring in confusion and wonder at the disappearing act, then everything made sense as Superman came on-screen floating above the destruction, I took my phone out turning away from the screen as I began to text Clark knowing, that it would be safer to let him know that I was okay and that I was safe, there was another loud explosion much closer to where we were and everybody ducked and screamed to cover themselves, I stumbled over to Leah trying to help her out as we saw Superman trying to get to the man, but being restrained away by what seemed to be an invisible wall, but from behind we saw Louis Lane creep up behind the man before hitting him over the head, he didn't flinch but instead made him mad enough to distract him from the real threat who seemed to get himself out of the restraints and was now rushing forward, and just like that it was over, the man was restrained and taken away.

And there in front of all stood Kal-El next to him Louis Lane who rushed forward and pressed their lips together sealing their entanglement with each other, the crowd around us erupted in wolf whistles and applause, Leah made a disgusted noise before moving to the back to pass around bottles of water to our inhabitants, but for some reason, I couldn’t move I kept staring at the scene as Kal-El pushed away from Louis stared at her for a moment before taking off in the air, my phone was still in my hand silent as ever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~§~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After that eventful day, my relationship with Clark changed. He seemed more distant and distracted, lost in thought most of the time, whenever I asked about his work or of Louis as of late, he would flinch as if my words burned him each time.

Simmering below a heavy feeling at the pit of my stomach, and a little voice in the back of my head hissed at me and I just knew something was wrong. It took me twenty-three days to find out Clark Kent’s secret, twenty-three days of a countdown for the day Clark would break my heart, and for everything to come crashing down around me, maybe choosing Superman would have been the safest option after all.

Clark had this habit of always forgetting dates when it came around busy times at work, which I could understand, work was important especially to Clark, so the day our three-month anniversary was pushed along, Clark was so focused on a scoop he was working with Louis, I did not question the long hours because I knew Clark wasn’t that type of man, but that didn’t stop the self-doubt to kick in especially with Louis Lane who was even being sought after by Superman himself, the thoughts of comparison between us two just came without thought.

For our anniversary I had planned for us a nice little dinner in my building's roof greenhouse, I had spoken to my landlord who agreed after I let her know what I was planning for us, but 3 hours later Clark was still a no-show. I logged online to check if anything has happened and the news depicted trouble going on at Luther corporation, and Louis Lane seems to have been taken, my heart leaped out of my chest thinking of Clark who was probably with her at the time, thinking the worst I began to dial Clark’s number but there seemed to be no answer and I couldn’t help but panic.

I switched on the news again to see if any information was said about Clark but nothing so far, and it seems that Superman was struggling from what seemed to be a creature of another world, the panic came quickly and I couldn’t help the tears that worked themself up to my eyes, from where it looked Superman was struggling to beat the monster, it seemed that all hope was lost when Superman fell once again but then the unthinkable happened a woman dressed in armor showed up and began to beat at the monster, she struggled with it until Superman rose again and together they were able to beat the beast down before it could cause more damage.

From within a ruin, Louis emerged covered in soot and a few cuts and bruises littering her body, Kal-El rushed towards her as the other woman tied to the best together and dragged it away, the camera which had been constantly recording the fight had focused on the couple, it seems as if they were speaking Louis speaking frantically before she pulled him forward and crashed their lips together, compared to the other time that they had kissed this kiss seemed different, lasting much longer than before he pushed away and taking off, I stood there at the roof waiting to see if my theory was true waiting to see if I was wrong and Clark was not Superman and he was just my Clark normal simple Clark who ate too many strawberry-lemongrass donuts, who loved to watch project runway and baking shows instead of the usual basketball game.

The loud sound that came from someone landing on the ground was so loud and defining that it gladly covered the sound of my heart breaking, Clark had just landed on the roof, the symbol of Superman standing proud at his chest when he realized he wasn’t he turned to me and stopped right dead still. “Is the reason why you had asked me all those months ago who I would rather have between you and Superman? You were just waiting to see who I would choose just so you could have your other alter-ego go for Louis?”

Tears were running down my face and my heart felt as if it was true and broken, the hot flash of shame and embarrassment running through my body, that vicious voice hissing at me from the back of my mind, everything had become too much as I felt my breathing grow harsh as I began stepping away from Superman- from Clark.

He thought I was stupid that everything was going to work his way and he could use me as his plaything while having a serious relationship with another woman, “ I never want to see you again, from this day forward I will be nothing but a spec in your memories I don’t want anything to do with you,” I choked on a sob as I tried to control myself from doing something brash, like throwing myself at his feet seeking an explanation, Clark’s face looked to be in anguish as if he couldn’t believe this was happening his hand was reaching out to me and I couldn’t help but flinch away before I looked back at him and said, “ I hope you and Louis can find the happiness you would wish for, and I hope she is the happiness you were willing to lie for.”

Before turning around and walking away a scream of anguish followed my path.

#henry cavill #clark kent #superman #clark kent x y/n #clark kent fanfiction #original work #pluss size #plus size ofc

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lawfully-lonely · 3 years

Text

my peace offering to you as a thank you (: low key based off of your submission which I’m still obsessed with! (This is not edited btw)

Blue ocean waves, clearer than she remembers, meets the shore over and over in a soothing rhythm. The smell of the sea salt in the air with the calming sound of the water brings a sense of peace for the brunette and her companion. She’s still unsure of what she should refer to him as, they’re tiptoeing the line between friends and something more; it’s driving her crazy but she also isn’t too keen on ruining their friendship. His voice brings her back down to the scene in front of them as he points out a dolphin jumping over in the distance. She smiles, letting her overrun thoughts wash away along with the waves, no sense in worrying when they were supposed to be healing their trauma together.

“This is nice, thanks for coming with me Court.”

His dazzling green eyes focus on her, with a smile so pure, she could die happy knowing it’s reserved just for her. She keeps her stare ahead so that she doesn’t do anything reckless by making a move, but he makes it hard to keep her distance when all she wants is to be closer. Her smile is genuine as she continues watching the ocean with a few seagulls basking in the sunlight right in their view.

“I wasn’t sure when you suggested it, but I’m glad I came too. This place is so different than I remember. I’m surprised this part of the island survived the explosion.”

“The best part came out unscathed, the scenery is nice and the wildlife is thriving naturally now that there isn’t a lunatic trying to run a reality show nearby.”

“Careful, you could summon him if you keep talking about him like that.”

“Nah, he’ll be behind bars for a long time. Thanks to a certain lawyer I know.”

He winks at her and she swoons, truthfully she wouldn’t have handled the case as well without his support. She had plenty of evidence as well as the other cast members involved, but Trent’s calming presence kept her settled while the trial was ongoing. She wonders how things would’ve turned out if they had been on the same team back in season one, maybe they wouldn’t have to deal with the heartache of being played on live T.V.

“I can hear you thinking from here, do you wanna talk about it?”

As usual, he knows exactly when something is bothering her. He may very well be the one person in this world who understands her more than Cate, a rare feat considering she doesn’t have the best track record at letting people in.

“It’s nothing really, I was just thinking about what would’ve happened had we been on the same team. Things might’ve turned out differently.”

“Maybe, but everything happens for a reason right? Maybe we wouldn’t have gotten as close if we started on the same team.”

“I don’t believe that for a second, we get along so well. We would’ve been inseparable. The only bad thing would’ve been betraying you to win the prize money in the end.”

“At least you think I could have made it to the final two.”

“Why wouldn’t you? The only reason why you got voted off was due to a misunderstanding and Heather’s a bitch. You and I both saw through her immediately, we wouldn’t have kept her on the team.”

“Fair point, but she’s not all that bad. We’re all friends now.”

“That’s true, you just have to knock down her walls and get to know her.”

“Remind you of anyone?”

“Shut up, Mr. Perfect Personality, some of us would rather be by ourselves than make a million friends.”

“Technically they’re fans, so they don’t count…”

At that she couldn’t help bursting out in laughter, trust him to pretend to be humble at a time like this. It’s true, since going solo, he’s gathered so many more fans than his Drama Brother days. She’s lucky he still makes time for her.

“Speaking off, don’t you have a tour to worry about? I’m surprised your manager let you take the weekend off.”

“She didn’t want me to, but I told her it was important.”

“We could’ve done this any time, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Courtney, you’re a workaholic, if we didn’t do this during your vacation, then we would never visit this place.”

“We would have eventually...”

“I guess I’m getting impatient, I didn’t want to wait anymore.”

“Wait for what?”

“How do you feel right now? Being back here. Does it bring back bad memories?”

She ponders over his question, it’s a valid concern given how hurt she was over the entire ordeal. There’s been too many times where she didn’t think she could overcome the feeling of not being good enough for anything, no matter how successful her life is. Some days are better than others, the road to recovery isn’t easy, but she’s still here and that’s all that matters.

“Strangely, I think I’m okay. I honestly haven’t even thought too much about my history with this place.”

“Does that mean you’re over what happened?”

Her gaze is downcast as she gives a melancholy smile. Her experiences here are bittersweet, but she’s slowly getting over the lingering bitter aftertaste she couldn’t let go of before. Trent’s right, everything happens for a reason, maybe this was the universe’s way to bring them together.

“I used to ignore this question every time someone brought it up, but I can honestly say that I am over it now. I understand why you wanted to come back now. To get closure.”

“It’s the next best thing right? Besides actually talking to them.”

“I don’t have anything to say to either of them, it is what it is. I’m not mad anymore, but that doesn’t mean I wanna hang out with them and pretend we’re all friends.”

He reaches over to place his hand over hers, this isn’t the first time they’ve held hands, but somehow this felt different than the previous times. She meets his eyes as he tells her how proud he is of her, she has to blink back the tears forming in her eyes. Every time he praises her like this, she gets emotional, he’s the only person on this earth who’s ever openly admitted he’s proud of her. When she decided not to write an angry letter back to her ex, graduating top of her class and a semester early in law school, winning the trial against the disgraced Host after ten months of going back and forth to the courtroom, seeking therapy after struggling by herself for so long, and right now as she chooses to let go of the pain she kept buried in her heart all those years.

“I’m really happy for you Courtney. Let’s keep moving forward together.”

They’re not quite there yet, but this is definitely a step in the right direction. Getting rid of all the baggage from past relationships to sit next to each other at the very place where they first met. They both subconsciously scoot closer together without acknowledging it, sharing space is nothing new to them. She lays her head on his shoulder the same time he wraps an arm around her waist to keep her from slipping off the rock as a wave makes a particularly big splash.

“You okay there Court?”

“With you Trent, always.”

Thank you so much @marshunter06 !! My Trentey heart has just exploded lol 😆. This is so incredible 💕.

#Trentney #submission #i love it so much!!!#thank you #this is so cute!!

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ethelindawrites · 3 years

Text

October 6

Fictober, Prompt 6 - "Didn't we already have this conversation?"

Original fiction.

Warnings: nothing much, a very vague, passing allusion to past abuse of a side character.

I swept into the front hall as the footman opened the door, his timing as impeccable as always. I gave him a slight, grateful nod. The chill of autumn followed me in, leaves swirling as several more people followed me in. I would have preferred to leave them outside, but my temper had not quite tipped over into outright rudeness.

Yet.

“Your Grace,” my butler bowed, stepping forward to take my cloak and gloves as other servants materialized to help my guests, uninvited though they might be.

“Thank you, Julian,” I told him, catching his eye. He would see the tension and annoyance in my own furrowed brow, but the lack of true fear would let him know that all was well enough for now. The slightest hint of tension eased from his still perfectly upright posture, and he bowed.

“If you and your guests will follow me, Your Grace, I took the liberty of having hot drinks prepared.”

“I have always envied your household staff, Duchess,” one of the hangers-on simpered as we settled into the parlor.

“Too kind,” I murmured, sipping my tea, into which Julian had kindly slipped just a little something extra. Extraordinary man. It had already occurred to him, as it should have occurred to me before now, that with the hour already so late, they would all undoubtedly have to stay the night, which meant that I would have to host them again in the morning, my least favorite time of day.

My manor was not large as such things went, and my lands were deliberately isolated. This worked well for discouraging guests in the general sort of way, but worked against me once they were already here.

At least I could probably get them all packed off to bed relatively soon, and retire to my own rooms.

“Daria,” Aled murmured, coming over to sit in the chair closest to me with his own cup, his voice lowered. “Can I please ask you to reconsider?”

“Didn’t we already have this conversation?” I asked, voice low but crisp with renewed annoyance. “I will not.”

“But the other lords…and the Temple—” He stopped as rage flashed over my face. I had myself under control a breath later, but I should not have let it happen.

“The Temple,” I said carefully, “have no say in how I govern my estate.”

“They do if you are—” he hesitated, glancing quickly to make sure the others were talking amongst themselves before continuing, “if you are using dark magics.”

“I am not.” I held his gaze without a hint of hesitation.

At last he slumped back, looking away and sighing. “All right, Daria, I believe you.”

“I should hope so,” I told him, acerbic as I sipped my tea. I wished Julian had put a little more liquor in it, but it was for the best. “How long have you known me?”

Aled smiled wryly. “Most of our lives. I don’t remember the exact year.”

“Neither do I. Are we truly getting so old as all that?”

He laughed. “Perhaps we are.”

He was not, at least in his looks. He had always been a handsome man. If things had been different…

But they were not.

I summoned up a better façade of graciousness, and played hostess for another hour before I was able to get them all escorted off to rooms in the guest hall. I could send them all on their way after breakfast without being thought ill-mannered.

It grated that I had to consider such things at all, but I had to tread carefully.

After the last of them had disappeared from the parlor, I remained, too fatigued even to make my own way upstairs for the moment.

The fire had burned low by the time Julian and my personal maid, Lara, and one of the newest junior maids, Maddi.

“How have you settled in?” I asked Maddi, and she did not seem too startled to be addressed by me, so the others must have warned her.

“I’m well, Your Grace,” she dipped a brief curtsy to me. “Thank you again for…for giving me somewhere to go.”

I wanted to wave away the thanks, but did not like to be dismissive of the genuine emotion behind her words. She was not the only person I had brought into my household because she was not safe in her own home the way she should have been, but she was the most recent.

“I appreciate your work,” I told her truthfully, and then rose so that she could begin gathering the dishes to bring them back to the kitchen.

Julian and Lara bowed me through the door, then followed me up to my rooms, a habit too old now to require words.

“All is well then, Your Grace?” Julian asked, stationing himself by the door as Lara followed me behind the screen and helped me out of my gown.

“For now,” I told them. “For now.” I hesitated, then admitted, softer, “I’m not sure how long we have. People are beginning to suspect. Even if we have enough time to prepare…I’m not sure it will be enough.”

I did not like to admit to weakness in front of any of my people, but these two had been with me too long and through too much to truly worry about that. I could give them nothing less than the full truth.

Even Aled had not earned that, much as I wished he had. But he was too set on seeing me “redeemed” in the eyes of the other lords and especially the Temple. He wanted a reconciliation.

He did not see what they really were, what they were really doing to people. Not just to me and mine, but to everyone. I didn’t care about everyone, but those who had sworn themselves to my name would have every protection that I could give them.

“We will succeed,” Lara said firmly. “You are powerful, and Julian and I becoming more so. We can win, if we have enough time.”

I smiled at her, and let her help me into my nightclothes, though they were far simpler than the formal gown. “If I have any hope, it is because of you two, and the rest.”

“We are glad and proud to serve you,” Julian said, his light eyes steady as Lara and I stepped back into the open.

I was glad and proud to have them.

“Get some rest,” I said aloud, knowing they understood. “We will confer more tomorrow after my guests have gone.”

“Your Grace,” they murmured together, and went out.

Alone, I went to sit near the fire, staring into the flames. After a moment, with just the slightest narrowing of my eyes, the dancing light shifted to blue, then to green, then to violet, and then back to their natural red-gold.

Dark magics, Aled had called it. But then, that was what the Temple called it.

Whether it was truly dark or not I was not yet sure, but it was power that the Temple did not want me to have, and that alone was enough to make me want to have as much of it as possible.

With a last, grim smile at the fire, I rose, and retired to bed.

#fictober21 #fantasy #nobility #magic #dark magic #witches #anyway

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haikyuu-scenarios-drabbles · 4 years

Text

Unspoken: Chapter One - Oikawa Tooru x f!reader

Oikawa has been in love with you since you became a manager for the university’s volleyball team, but keeps it to himself in fear of what his fan club might do to you if they found out

genre(s): college!au, mutual pining (mostly Oikawa), friends to lovers, angst, eventual smut words: 3k+

a/n: don’t worry folks, i just got carried away with this fic and felt it would be better to split it up. chapter 2 is complete and will be up tomorrow 💖 with a bonus smut ending if you are a heathen like me. enjoy ~ J ✨ i am also sorry i made the fan club so bitchy

taglist: @takingyouruwus @kurosarium @apollochjld @afterglowkuroo (lmk if you’d like to be added to my general or a specific taglist!)

Chapter 2

The Oikawa fan club is definitely not a fan of you, and you certainly aren’t of them. Not because you have a crush on him too but because they’re obnoxious and take the best seats at volleyball games. It also doesn’t help that they outright despise you. They don’t even try to hide it. Snickering in the hallways at school or passing quick remarks whispered amongst them at games. You really aren’t a fan of that. You don’t care, you don’t care, you don’t care—you chant to yourself to keep your tongue locked behind your teeth. It isn’t worth your time or the effort.

Not until you hear one of them hiss today at the game, “What is she even doing up here? I thought she’s the manager,” a scoff. “Guess the team likes Miko better.”

Your fists ball instinctively. You can’t sit down there, as much as you’d like to. If they knew anything deeper about volleyball beyond Oikawa’s killer serve and being obsessed with his ‘pretty hair’ they’d know that you might be a manager but there is a senior manager who outranks you and only one is allowed on the bench down on the court.

Though you have to admit, sitting up here in the bleachers with the Oikawa ogling brigade in front of you—the manager—fawning over his every move is degrading. You don’t necessarily have to sit directly behind them, but god dammit you want to see the game too and are willing to grin and bear it for the sake of the team. You can’t sit in the normal cheering section crowded with students either since you arrive late and would have to sit at the back of the stands. So, this is the better of two options, even if today the fan club is being particularly petty.

“Or maybe she’s just a wannabe,” another snickers, loud enough that you know she is intending you to hear it.

That pushes you over the edge, making you abruptly stand up. You’re wearing a university volleyball club jacket for fucks sake! Are they really so shallow as to start slinging rumors like that around? They jolt at your sudden movement, glaring back at you, clearly with no intention of apologizing. They so obviously just want you to leave.

You want to watch the game, support the boys you watch work so hard and work hard for yourself, but you don’t want to be around for this bullshit. You know shouldn’t care, but you do, and it fucking ruins the game for you.

Instead of giving them some mean remark like you’re itching to throw at them, you just turn on a heel and go. You stride up the steps and towards the exit right as you hear the crowd gear up for Oikawa’s serve. You stop once you reach the doorway, fists clenched and trembling with anger, furious at yourself for letting them get under your skin. Exactly like they wanted to. You should have stayed as a silent ‘fuck you’ to them, but you can’t stomach going back either. Not like they even care anyways, probably too wrapped up in Oikawa’s serve. Now a sigh escapes you; forcing your hands to unfurl and stretch the ache that formed from how tightly you had them clenched.

You need to take a breath and move on. You have nothing to prove to them, all the matters is that you know where you stand. It also makes you feel better that the team actually knows you, they can pretend it isn’t true all they want but that doesn’t change that you get to spend time with the team, and inevitably, Oikawa. A fact they loathe.

You end up lingering in the hallway near the entrance to the gym, waiting for the game to finish. Usually you can be a part of the between game meetings if you want to, sometimes you can’t get down there fast enough but sitting here in the hallway, you’ll make it today. While you wait, you slide down the wall to sit, leaning against it and pulling your legs close to rest your chin on.

You like to think that you have tough skin and their words can’t hurt you, but they do. And while you may not put the same about of blood, sweat, and tears the boys do into the sport—you put in your fair share for them, and it’s hard to be met with scoffs and sideways glances purely because of jealousy. You’re appreciated enough by those who matter, so why are you so bothered by the fan club? Shaking your head at the fleeting thought that it has anything to do with Oikawa, you convince yourself it’s just annoyance that you can’t enjoy games like you’d like to.

Interrupting your thoughts, the whistle blows to signal the end of the game and you perk your head up. You’re grateful for the distraction, not really wanting to delve deeper into your thoughts about Oikawa, and peek into the gym. Miko notices your head in the doorway and waves you in to join the huddle.

Ha, take that fan club. Wannabe my ass.

Miko’s movement catches Oikawa’s attention. He looks to where her attention is drawn and watches you beam before throwing the door wide and joining the huddle by Miko’s side. He wonders what you were doing waiting by the door, normally you wait until the last possible moment before bolting from your seat in the bleachers to join the huddle. You never want to miss a single second of the game, which he finds rather endearing. And he can’t remember the last time you skipped out on a game early.

He stares at you, trying to get your attention, but you’re fixated on the coach, no doubt trying to soak up as much information as possible. It makes his mouth curve ever so slightly at how eagerly you listen during these huddles. When you do briefly slide your gaze over to him, he gives you a questioning look to which you just shake your head at and point discretely at the coach.

Ah. Your way of saying, ‘shut up and listen’.

He supposes he likes that about you. Your bluntness.

So, with an eyeroll, he fixes his eyes on the coach, fully intending on pestering you later about it. He tries to grab you before the next game, but you hurry away as soon as the whistle is blown, and his fingers grasp empty air.

The team wins the next set, winning the match without going to the 3rd set. As customary, he lines up with the team to thank the spectators and Oikawa gets the chance to pick you out in the crowd. He spots you off to the side, and he’s noted since meeting you that you don’t sit with the cheering crowd, but rather on your own. It’s never too hard to find you, your face split in two by a smile as you clap for them. It’s then that he notices who is sitting directly in front of you.

He fights the urge to frown. He likes to think he’s a polite guy, having always given attention to his so called ‘fan club’. He got used to it in high school, the constant barrage of placating a group of fans, but had been secretly looking forward to hopefully leaving it behind. Only to have a new one re-emerge within the first few months of school. The other guys on the team weren’t too keen about him for a while after that. It took him forever to convince them to tolerate him again.

And he hates that they give you trouble. Ever since they discovered you interact with him outside of school, it seems they deemed you an enemy. He tries to stay away from you during regular school hours, keeping it limited to volleyball only, but lately the two have started bleeding together. He simply can’t help himself, however selfish that may be. Gathering his things, he wonders if they’re the cause for your weird behavior earlier.

He glances at you helping Miko put away the chairs, a tight feeling constricting his chest. God—if he ever told you how he actually feels about you, what would his fan club do then? How miserable would they make you? But damn him to hell, he’s selfish, and it doesn’t stop him from striding over to you cooing your name.

Without hesitation you reply, “Oikawa-san~,” in the same sing-song voice he uses for you. You don’t even bother to look over your shoulder at him, continuing your task.

“What was with the little peeping tom imitation earlier?”

You’re glad to be facing away from him, your skin prickling with the thought of having to explain to him that his fan club was pissing you off. Surely earning yourself a more prying follow-up question that you definitely do not want to answer. So instead you shrug, brushing off his question, “You guys were so far ahead, and I was sure your serves would end it, so I figured I’d actually be a part of the entire huddle.”

He squints, finding that to be rather out of character for you. “You missed my serves though!” He pouts, deciding it’s better for him to let you off the hook than continue to pry. He doesn’t think you’d tell him anyways, no matter how much he pesters you.

“Oh, big baby. I missed what? Two?”

“What if they were my best yet!” He protests, leaning around you so you can see his impressive pout. It delights him that he elicits a smile from you, peering at him from the corner of your eye, clearly finding his antics amusing. “Guess you’ll have to help me with serving practice to make up for it.”

You stick your tongue out at him, which he hates to admit he watches very closely as you answer, “Fine.” Though, truthfully, he’s not really pulling your leg too much. You like helping him practice.

He can’t help how his mouth turns downward into a frown as another member of the team, a bold freshman, butts into the conversation. “Need any help?”

Though he does find immense delight at the way your face falls to a neutral expression, giving him a curt, “I’m alright, thank you.” You don’t even turn to him, instead tilting your head to look at Oikawa continuing, “Oikawa-san is more than enough help here. Why don’t you see if they need help putting away the net?”

The freshman slinks away and Oikawa has to physically restrain himself from doing a victory lap as you shove a chair into his hands grumbling to yourself. The muttering continues as you move to put away more chairs, loud enough that he catches you say, “Is he ever going to get the hint?”

“What?”

You almost drop the chair you’re holding, turning wide-eyed at Oikawa, not realizing you’d been talking out loud to yourself. “It’s nothing.”

He frowns. “Is he bothering you?”

God he’s talking so loudly, making you nervous that the underclassman might hear him. “Can you talk any louder?” You hiss. Oikawa’s expression doesn’t change, however, and you groan really not wanting to get into this right now. “He’s been at it for a couple weeks now,” you say, trying to play off the situation as best you can. You’ve never had someone as persistent in pursuing you as he is, or someone as oblivious to your subtle rejections either.

You vaguely wonder if this is how Oikawa feels all the time with his fan club.

“Wanna pretend to date for a while?” He suggests harmlessly in your opinion, but very selfishly in his. And while he knows he isn’t joking in the slightest—you certainly think he is and bark out a laugh at the idea of fake dating him to get the underclassman off your back. “What?” He pouts. “Is it so crazy of an idea?”

You’re laughing even harder now, enough that people are beginning to look your way, so you swallow you remaining laughter and wipe your eyes dramatically. “It just don’t want to be murdered in the dead of night by your fan club, that’s all.”

You go back to collapsing chairs and don’t notice Oikawa stiffen. He doesn’t like being reminded that his fan club will literally rip apart any girl he is even remotely interested in. And he isn’t just interested in you. He likes you. A lot.

Clearly not thinking anything of this conversation, you say over your shoulder, “What are all those muscles for if you’re not going to carry more chairs than me?” He blinks back to reality and makes a show of picking up way more chairs than you and putting them away faster too. That only earns him a scowl in response, but he knows it’s only for show.

“Oh, pleeeeeease?” Oikawa almost gets on his knees begging you. Practice is done but he wants to stay late and hammer in more serves before the night is over. And sue him if he thinks it’s way more enjoyable if you stay to help him. “You promised last week!” You groan, scrunching your eyes tight, not wanting to look at his stupidly adorable pouting face that usually breaks you. It doesn’t help that you can feel he is standing very close to you. “You’re going to have to open your eyes sometime.”

“Nope, I’ll walk all the way home like this.”

He pleads your name again. “You’re going to miss the rare sight of Oikawa Tooru on his knees for you!”

You don’t budge. “Nice try.”

“I’m serious!” Now he really does get on his knees, dramatically putting his hands together to beg you. “This is a once in a lifetime chance!”

He keeps it to himself that you could definitely get him on his knees for many different reasons.

He’s sure that he’s broken you when you groan loudly and peek an eye open at him. Upon seeing that he is being serious, both of your eyes widen, and you have the audacity to start giggling at him. “I should take a picture.”

That makes him scramble to his feet, sticking his tongue out at you. “You better not.” It just makes you grin and his heart soars at the sight. He can’t help that your smile makes his stomach do somersaults. He takes you by the arm and drags you further into the gym before jogging over to the other side of the court and grabbing a ball from the cart.

He loves that he doesn’t have to tell you what to do. You’re already digging through your bag to find objects to place around the opposite side of the net for him to aim for. He notices that you’ve placed some of them very meanly—some sitting just barely on the outside line, others in spots that he has a record of having trouble hitting. And while it makes his chest swell with pride you even notice his performance, the scowl across his face betrays his annoyance that you aren’t making this easy.

If you’re going to help him—he’s going to have to work for it.

And hell, if that doesn’t drive him wild.

“Those good?” You ask, stepping off to the side, a smug smirk splayed across your lips.

You know exactly what you’re doing.

He levels a look at you that you return with a sickeningly sweet yet utterly terrifying smile. “You’re going to have to do better than that, I’m afraid.”

Your smile transforms into something that makes his stupid fucking shorts tighten, holding his gaze steadily as you challenge, “We’ll see.” Then you tear your eyes from his and he feels like you’ve ripped his chest out with it and like he can barely get enough air into his lungs. He knows the challenge is to drive him to do better, to perform the best of his ability, but damn—he’ll give 110% for the rest of his life if you ask him to.

You will never admit how much you love watching Oikawa play volleyball. Watching him shift from his teasing, easy-going smile, to this intensely serious and calculating gaze that while foreign to you—is also so strangely familiar. You feel lucky to be able to watch him up close, someone who has honed their craft, yet is ever looking to be better. When it comes down to it, you truly admire Oikawa and want to be there to watch him grow and see where he goes. Because to you, the sky’s the limit for him.

Where the hell are those thoughts coming from?

The sound of a volleyball slamming onto the court, sending the notebook you placed on the line skittering across the floor, startles you. “Hey! Pay attention!” Oikawa scolds. You quickly apologize, knowing full well how much a stray volleyball can hurt. “And make sure you’re watching! I’m going to hit every single one of those first try.”

You nod, a bit blankly, still reeling from the thoughts tumbling through your head. He tosses another ball up, his powerful thighs straining as he thrusts his body upwards, hand meeting the ball at the perfect point—the sound of his hand cracking against it almost as loud as the sound that reverberates around the gym when it connects with the floor. It all happens in the blink of an eye, but you feel like you’re watching it in slow motion until his feet touch the floor and you’re jolted back to reality.

God, what the fuck is going on with you tonight?

Oikawa isn’t blind. He knows you’re watching him. And it sends such a thrill down his spine he doesn’t know what to do with himself besides channel as his energy into his serves. Otherwise he’s going to do something very stupid tonight.

You’re uncannily quiet for the remainder of the night. Just watching him serve over and over again, and when he’s finished, helping him pick up the balls and set up the targets so he can start again. He is desperate to know what’s going through your head, but he lets you stew, just as interested in what conclusion you might be coming to on your own.

It’s not his fault that his imagination runs absolutely fucking wild that night. He can’t sleep, theorizing what changed today—if anything did. What were you thinking about as you watched him so intently? What flipped the switch? Are you thinking about him right now, lying awake in bed like he is? It torments him even in his dreams.

He does keep you awake that night. You can’t get the image of him out of your head. His voice either. It’s infuriating. You try to convince yourself he’s just a friend. That all those late nights in the gym, all the times he’s walked you home, all the bus rides you’ve fallen asleep on his shoulder, are harmless. He hasn’t wormed his way into your heart, he hasn’t made you fall in love with him slowly and quietly and its only now hitting you like a tidal wave—has he?

Fuck. Has he?

You’re grateful your roommates’ room is down the hall, giving you the freedom to scream into your pillow.

Are you a fucking Oikawa fan girl now?

You don’t know the difference between you and them is that he’s been in love with you a lot longer than you can even imagine.

#oikawa tooru x reader #haikyuu x reader #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru imagine #oikawa tooru scenario #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu #oikawa tooru

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the-girl-in-the-box · 3 years

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Not Today II

A/N: Hi! So, we’ve got a bit of exposition in this chapter, but I really wanted to explore Aethelind’s response to what has happened in Kattegat, and Ivar’s hand in it, as well as something of a refresher on the situation and a brief explanation to make this readable for anyone unfamiliar with Vikings! I hope this hasn’t made this chapter too boring, and that it will still be enjoyable even if it’s dealing with material we’re probably familiar with! We’ll be getting back to new territory with the next chapter, so until then- skål, and I’ll see you next week! (Taglist at the end!)

Summary: When Ivar takes the throne of Kattegat, Lagertha flees to Wessex along with Björn, Ubbe, Torvi, and the Bishop Heahmund. There, they seek the aid of King Alfred. This aid comes in the form of his sister, Aethelind, who agrees to travel to Kattegat and try to reason Ivar, who she spent some time with during their youth, when her grandfather King Ecbert hosted Ragnar Lothbrok in their castle. Now, she is the only hope for Lagertha and her supporters to retake Kattegat from Ivar the Boneless.

Masterlist

—

It hadn’t taken long for Aethelind to go and find the Vikings. She knew her brother would have questions, and if she wanted his support in supporting Lagertha, she was going to need answers for him. Answers that, truthfully, would only come from her Viking guests. Aethelind figured it would be smarter to get those answers before she saw her brother.

Lagertha, Björn, Ubbe, and Torvi were all congregated in Lagertha’s chambers, trying to make a plan concerning Kattegat, when there was a knock on the door. The four looked up, then to each other, sharing a suspicious glance amongst themselves as Lagertha called out, “Who is there?”

"It is Aethelind,” a gentle voice replied, and the Vikings shared a look of relief as Lagertha called for her to enter. It was true that they didn’t trust anyone there in Wessex very much, but watching the way Aethelind came into the room, the idea of trusting her- at least a little- became a bit more bearable. And really, did they have any other choice?

Aethelind offered each of them a warm smile. “I wanted to apologize for my brother,” she began. “He worries for our kingdom, but I believe there is no reason we cannot protect our people, and help our friends. So, I would like to formally welcome you back to the Kingdom of Wessex. It’s an honor to have you here.”

“You are very generous, Princess,” Lagertha replied politely, and stood to go and greet Aethelind properly. “And we are very grateful. You have already done more than we hoped you might.”

Aethelind shook her head, taking Lagertha’s hands in her own. “I cannot begin to imagine what you have been through,” she said. “I’m sure this is quite the least we can do to help, but I promise you, I will speak to my brother about doing more.”

Lagertha squeezed her hands slightly. “Thank you, Your Highness,” she said. “It is true, we have been through… very much, lately.”

“Would you be horribly affronted if I asked you to sort of… elaborate on this for me? Before today, the last I had heard of the sons of Ragnar was that they had killed my grandfather, King Aelle. But now…” She paused, and turned to Björn and Ubbe. “I have two of those sons as guests in my villa. I think it’s time I heard your story.”

Aethelind released Lagertha’s hands and gestured for her to sit once again, before seating herself between Björn and Ubbe. But neither man had the chance to explain before Torvi, Ubbe’s wife, was speaking up.

“You do not hate them for killing your grandfather?” the doe-eyed blonde asked Aethelind, looking across at the woman who had sat on Björn’s other side.

Aethelind’s eyes widened and she felt her cheeks darkening a bit as blood rushed into them at Torvi’s question. “He had a… predisposition to cruelty, and I knew he had killed Ragnar,” she managed. “I suppose I just… understood.”

“And… this had nothing to do with Ivar?” Ubbe asked. Aethelind’s cheeks reddened further, betraying the answer before she could even say anything. She found herself wishing he weren’t so perceptive. “He spoke of you when he returned, as I mentioned before. You must have been close to him.”

Aethelind sighed, and nodded a bit. “I… confess, I did hope my grandfather’s death might bring him some peace,” she admitted.

“Ivar has never had peace,” Björn said. “He is too violent a man for that.”

Aethelind’s brow creased thoughtfully for a few moments, before she shook her head. “He was not violent when I knew him,” she countered. “He was vastly intelligent, I could tell that much without even understanding so much as a word he said. We used to play chess, and we’d play together and beat my brother. But when my brother did win, he was never given to anger. He was always so gentle… How could such a sweet boy have become such a violent man?”

"He was always cruel,” Ubbe said. “Wickedly smart, but cruel all the same. It adds to his violence.”

The look on Aethelind’s face made Torvi’s chest ache, and she turned to whisper to Ubbe, “Let her breathe. This must be quite a shock to hear. We know he’s good at presenting himself however he chooses, and she didn’t exactly know him for very long. Give her a moment.”

Ubbe nodded, and soon all attention was on Aethelind, who took a deep breath and then looked up. “How did you come to be here, then?” she finally asked.

She had expected that Ubbe would be the one to explain, but he didn’t. Instead, it was Lagertha who spoke. “I killed the Queen, Aslaug,” she confessed. “Neither my son, nor any of hers, agreed with what I had done, but they all chose to respond to the change of power in very different ways. Björn, of course, stayed with me, but-”

“I joined Ivar in going to make an attempt on her life,” Ubbe suddenly broke in. “She had killed our mother, after luring myself and our brother, Sigurd, away to keep us from protecting her. Sigurd was unmoved by our mother’s death, but I only gave up on my pursuit of revenge because Björn asked that Ivar and I spare Lagertha.”

“I did not ‘ask’ you not to kill her,” Björn countered. “I told you, you would have to kill me if you wanted to kill my mother. You conceded then, Ivar did not.”

“And where was Ivar?” Aethelind asked. “I can’t imagine he would have just… let his mother be killed, not without at least trying to stop it.”

“He was still here in Wessex, or perhaps on his way home, when our mother was killed,” Ubbe answered her. “He returned with news of our father’s death, only to be given news of our mother’s.”

Aethelind swallowed hard, and asked, “So you, Ivar, and your brother Sigurd all lost both your parents in quick succession?”

"And Hvitserk,” Ubbe added. “Our other brother. He agreed with Sigurd, and took no action against Lagertha.”

Aethelind nodded, going over all the information she had in her head so far. So, Björn, Ubbe, Hvitserk, Sigurd, and Ivar were the sons of Ragnar. Björn was Lagertha’s son, and Ubbe, Hvitserk, Sigurd, and Ivar were Aslaug’s. When Lagertha killed Aslaug, Björn supported her (though he didn’t approve of the action), Hvitserk and Sigurd remained neutral, and Ubbe and Ivar attempted to avenge their mother. Ubbe, however, conceded, while Ivar wouldn’t. This was all very complicated, in her opinion.

With all this straightened out in her mind, Aethelind asked, “So where was Hvitserk, then, if not with Aslaug?”

“In the Mediterranean, with me,” Björn answered. “We all returned to find my mother was the Queen of Kattegat.”

“I see,” Aethelind replied. “And now? Where are he and Sigurd? And Torvi, where were you during all of this?”

An awkward silence fell over the Vikings, and they all looked to each other. Eventually, Torvi told Aethelind, “I was with Lagertha. I am her right hand.”

Aethelind nodded, but the awkwardness had not yet gone away. “And… Sigurd?” she prompted. A feeling of dread settled in her stomach.

“Sigurd is dead,” Ubbe finally answered.

And so, her suspicions were correct. “I’m sorry for your loss,” she said gently. “Did… did he die in this war?”

Ubbe sighed and shook his head. “He provoked Ivar at a feast,” he said. “And Ivar threw an axe. It killed him almost immediately. A few steps, and then…” He gestured in a way as to show someone falling over. “He was dead.”

Aethelind swallowed hard, and let her eyes slip shut. “Good Lord,” she whispered, before her eyes opened again. “I’m so sorry to hear this. I can’t even begin to imagine…”

“We really fell apart then,” Ubbe said. “Hvitserk chose to stay with Ivar in York, and we didn’t see either of them again until they came for Kattegat.”

"We won that battle,” Lagertha interjected then, and Aethelind found her attention being pulled to the woman. “At great cost, but we won.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “And then Ivar joined forces with King Harald Finehair, and Rollo, his uncle, who brought him Frankish support.”

“And… they won,” Aethelind surmised, her voice soft. “Is that when you came here?”

Lagertha nodded, looking to the ground, and Björn put a hand on her back. “Rollo helped us escape Kattegat,” she told Aethelind. “And Heahmund brought us here.”

“I’m glad he did,” Aethelind said definitively. “You’re all safe, now, I can assure you of this. And I will be talking to Alfred. What happened to you… It was wrong. Alfred and I will come up with a plan to help you return home, I’m sure of it. You deserve no less.”

None of the Vikings had expected this response from the Princess. They’d figured out that once, she and Ivar had been close. Or, close enough, at least. Close enough she’d seen fit to quickly ask after him, once realizing the relation, and close enough that Ivar had spoken of her. So to hear her speak in opposition of him…

“What about Ivar?” Torvi asked. Somehow, she couldn’t quite wrap her head around what might could even be called a betrayal of the Boneless King.

Aethelind sighed sadly, and shrugged, shooting a weak smile to Torvi. “I don’t believe he is the same boy I once knew. Whatever happened once he left here… That boy is gone. Isn’t he?”

Ubbe shifted at her question, drawing the room’s attention to him as he leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees, and drew his brows together thoughtfully. “I don’t know,” he eventually confessed. “But if he is not… He is buried beneath years of anger, and pain, and hatred. I have not seen the boy he once was before our father died, and I doubt he will show that side again. I hope something will bring that boy back, I just…” He finally sat up a little, looking to Aethelind. “I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

Aethelind nodded, swallowing. She turned back to Torvi and asked, “Then what about Ivar? He has changed beyond recognition. My heart aches for the loss of him, but my mind knows I must move forward. No, it isn’t the easiest thing to do. I will mourn the boy I knew. But this new Ivar sounds so different… I’m not even sure I can see him as the same person. And in the end…” She chuckles softly and shrugged. “I only knew him for a few days years ago, anyhow.”

The group chuckled a bit. “You say all this now,” Björn commented. “But you have not faced him yet. It is easy to have such little concern until you are confronted with the issue. We will see if you still feel so unworried about Ivar then.”

Aethelind felt a weight settle in her chest. Björn was right, and she knew it. All this talk was all well and good, but looking in Ivar’s eyes… Would she be ready to stand against him still?

She wasn’t sure she had the answer.

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thereluctantinquisitor · 3 years

Text

WIP Whenever

Thank you for the tag @captainsaku! At the moment, I’m still limping through the opening chapters of Stonebreaker, trying to get a feel for the story and work on strengthening my atrophied writing muscles. Anyway, I figured I’d share what I have so far of Adiran’s introductory chapter. It’s basically just an awkward, descriptive mess, but at least it’s something. At this point, I’ll count that as a win!

I also put a short glossary at the end in case some terms were confusing. <3

Chapter 3 - A Scene

Be present. Do not cause a scene.

They were simple enough requests, Adiran supposed, as he braced himself and drained his third flute of wine. He knew it was poor form to cringe after swallowing, but the dry white was about as pleasant as a mouthful of sand and only went down half as well. If he was the paranoid type, he’d think the servers were offering him the worst vintages on purpose.

Then again, the celebration had stretched into its ninth day, now. Even the royal cellars had a limit.

Despite overstaying its welcome, the event remained at a predictably lofty height of splendour. In the ballroom - Vetrose’s famed Silver Font - delicate rivulets of water, no wider than the span of a hand, curled their way across the marble floor, draining into a shallow pool at the base of the royal thrones. Above their heads, weavelight strings were draped elegantly between pillars and across wide arches, their glowing pinpricks joining the blazing chandelier to bathe the room a honey-gold.

Beneath that radiant light, the Talveran nobility moved like swans, jewellery glittering, ankle-length gowns and embroidered jackets flashing enough to catch the attention of nesting crows. Hundreds packed the Font that night - an entirely different crowd to the evening prior, and likely the one prior to that. Attending Talveran court, with its litany of demands and expectations, was an exhausting and expensive affair. Every evening demanded a new outfit. A new glittering showpiece. A new plan for navigating the treacherous waters of social interaction, careful not to show too much interest in any one person. One night was difficult enough to survive. Very few could afford to be present for an entire turn’s worth of celebration.

Unfortunately, Adiran had no choice in the matter. It just had to be his brother returning from the northern border. As if no one else had ever come back from that waste of a campaign.

Another mouthful. Another weary swallow of something half as strong as it needed to be. Honestly, he’d almost rather be swallowing sand. At least that meant he’d be in the arena, getting his ass kicked practicing for something that mattered, instead of wasting his time decorating the wall. Divider’s Own, Lorvain was meant to have arrived by the third day! Adiran might have been able to slip away if he had been around to soak up the attentions of the lords and ladies. But no. The beloved Crown Prince had probably stopped to fawn over milkmaids and shepherds at every town between here and Morgate. Really, they should have accounted for that before throwing such a ridiculous event...

A prince should want to know his people, Adiran. I thought you understood that?

Threading paths expertly between the nobility were almost three dozen servers dressed in vibrant Volise green. Silver trays were held aloft on the pads of their gloved fingers as they moved in rehearsed patterns around the room, making sure every hand that sought a glass found a delicate stem. It was a different sort of dance; the kind that typically went unnoticed, the same way a clock’s hands are appreciated more than the mechanism behind the face. They knew the position of every crack in the stone; every rivulet.

None of them ever looked down.

Speaking of timing, the only reason Adiran paid the servers any heed was to make sure he got his right. On cue, he finished his wine with a grimace and thrust it towards a well-groomed young woman, her dark hair braided and pinned neatly around her head. Without so much as an errant blink, she bobbed carefully at the knees, accepted the glass, and replaced it with a new one from her tray.

“Careful not to drop that,” Adiran said, taking the drink and giving it an experimental sniff. Sweeter. Thank the Divider for that.

The server hesitated. They always did. Every night. “Your Highness?” she asked, and her lilt was perfection. Just the right amount of simpering, blended with polite curiosity. Someone had taken her training seriously.

“Am I slurring already? What I’m saying is that if the Crown Prince finally shows up and you’re in the middle of mopping a puddle, the King will have your hide for saddle leather. So...” He extended one bored finger towards the tray, a smirk curling the corner of his lips. “Tread lightly.”

The server’s mouth opened, and for a moment no sound followed. For just one blissful, fleeting second, Adiran thought he’d finally done it. He’d finally won.

Then, like underappreciated clockwork, her lips shaped themselves into a beatific smile, and she dipped into a curtsy. The tray never even wobbled. “Thank you for your concern, Your Highness. On my word, I will remain diligent. I would not dare bring shame on our King’s house.”

Damn it. The smile Adiran flashed back - half a sneer - could cut glass. But the server had already completed her parting bob and returned to her dance, weaving and gliding among the gaggle of silver-bloods with her tray of weak wine. Expression turning brittle, Adiran huffed and leaned back against one of the massive marble pillars - just one of fifteen lining the room. He’d claimed it on the first evening, like a hound staking its territory. Most people knew better than to bother him once he’d found his haunt, but the serving staff simply didn’t have that luxury. He supposed it was probably unkind, to force them to speak to him. But Divider, he was just so bored...

Scowling, he took a long swallow of his new drink, the chilled, sweet liquid a welcome enough sensation as it ran down the back of his throat.

So he was unkind. So what?

“Are you finished losing to the servers for tonight, or should I come back later?”

A familiar voice, and right on time. Adiran gave no indication of surprise, barely even turning to acknowledge the man. After all, this was just another ritual for them; a way to take a knife to long hours of affluent, barely drunk loitering. “Yeah, I’m done. An earthquake couldn’t shake them.” His gaze finally cut across, delivering what he hoped was a scathing look as Riin settled against the pillar beside him. “Took you long enough. Get distracted by all the pretty gowns and pouting lips?”

Folding his arms across his broad chest, Riin chuckled softly, utterly immune to Adiran’s glare. “Could you blame me if I was? Everyone looks appealing under this light.”

“That’s generous of you.” Sniffing, Adiran glanced up. Even with the smoke-glass covers encasing each glowing orb, he still had to squint against the brightness of the weavelights. “Guess it could be worse. We looked more like corpses before the covers were put on.”

“Really? I’m glad I missed it.”

“Yeah. Being dead inside is more than enough.”

Riin laughed, and a faint smile curved Adiran’s lips. He quickly hid it behind his glass. Truthfully, the entire ‘weavelight saga’ had been ridiculous. The King and Queen had commissioned hundreds of them from Tel Shival, purely because no one else had ever done it. Even the wealthiest families only ever had a few per household, usually kept in a lantern or a sconce in the most frequented rooms. After two seasons of painstaking arrangement that nearly killed two of their staff, the Silver Font soon found itself bathed in a thematically violent silver light. It had been an exciting novelty, at first; nobility flooded in from all over Talvera just to bask in the glow of thousands of wasted sicets. But then they quickly realised that colours didn’t behave the same way. Their favourite jewellery didn’t catch the eye. Their skin didn’t appear as youthful and rosy. Instead, every flaw - every stray hair or unpolished button - was placed on stark display for the vultures to pick at.

The weavelights were as bleak and clinical as a physicker’s ward. They sucked the warmth out of everything they touched.

In Adiran’s mind, the wash of corpse-light over each soiree was a perfectly fitting thing. But, as was typical, no one else agreed. So, they decided to encase each of the weavelights in honey-tinted glass and returned the room to almost exactly how it looked before. Back when it was lit by oil and flame.

That was how things were in Talvera. Decisions were made, sicets were spent, and then everyone just wanted to go back to how things used to be. Like nothing had ever happened.

GLOSSARY

Weavelight - spheres of crystal or glass, with a light-bearing glyphstring engraved by a thaumist specialising in Weaving. Maintains a bright, steady silver light. Cannot be dimmed or turned off at will. Thaumist - a well-trained practitioner of the thaumic arts, capable of manipulating thaumic essence. Turn - ten days. Tel Shival - An independent, famously insular city dedicated to the training and cultivation of thaumists and thaumaturgical study. Sicet - Currency used in the Allied Kingdoms.

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Tagging: @frenchy-and-the-sea, @leothelionsaysgrrrr, @bladeverbena, @thefluffynug, @rufinagertrude, @arduyn, @anarchyduck, and anyone else who has a WIP they’d like to share!

#wip whenever #(because i always miss wednesday lol)#reluctant memes #stonebreaker series #adiran #riin #the more i read it the more i dont really like it but #just... gotta... MOVE ON....#hURGH #reluctant writes

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calypsoff · 3 years

Text

Ninety. Part 3

Everyone pretty much left the hospital besides Mel, stroking my chin hair looking over at Robyn and Mel just whispering together, they look so deep in conversation, and I wonder what they speaking on, I am nosey so I would like to know. Mel looked over at me and looked away quickly, so it makes me think are they speaking on me and then Robyn looked so now it’s official that they are. Looking back at my daughter, I hate this so much, I’ve not even really cared about anything. Besides chasing after Robyn like a dog but I generally not cared about shit else, I just want my daughter to be better and to be just staring into my eyes, probably judging me thinking why did I fuck up because we had to stay with Mel, I am an idiot. Rubbing the top of my head “I shall leave you both to it, don’t murder each other now” Mel said laughing “he’s sleeping on the chair anyways, we good” Robyn slowly made her way to us with her arms crossed, she thinks that “sure Robyn, but thanks. For coming also and caring so much” Mel smiled at me “that is fine, y’all my family anyways. Bye, I hope to see my niece awake and lively” we can all hope that, my whole heart just on that bed “bye” sitting back on the chair “thank you for coming” Mel and Robyn hugged “lesbians are at it again” I mumbled “jealousy is ugly Chris” Mel spat “he is ugly” Robyn added, them two are terrible together “two ugly sisters” they both laughed as they finished off just hugging and whatever, now watch Robyn she’s going to be all over me like a bad smell but if I touch her it’s a no. Not complaining actually because she’s a feign, I can sense it. Looking over at Robyn “I don’t see what you are smirking at” Robyn sat next to me “here we are, alone in this room” watching Robyn sit down “and I’m hungry” she turned to me “that’s life?” Man Robyn is so damn beautiful, I am too damn lucky in life to have her “get me some food, if you get it right you can” she dragged out, oh she got my attention. Robyn is actually very close to me “touch any part of my body, using your lips. Just a kiss but you need to get food I want, it’s easy really” she shrugged, I am not even waiting I am gone. I got up from the chair, Robyn snorted laughing, I am whipped.

I don’t know what game Robyn is playing but it’s got me by the neck like a dog anyways, Robyn is not dumb because she knows I will be here at Giorgio Baldi “thank you brother” the waiter came over to the car with the food “no payment, it’s on us. We are so sorry about your daughter, we hope she gets better” they are really refusing to take payments from me but it’s nice of them “thank you” I smiled, placing the bag on the front seat “oh my god, Chris. Can we take a picture with you?” Some females came over to the car “really?” I laughed “yeah, if you want” I never understand why these people want pictures with me, leaning my head out of the car “you are so sexy” she turned the camera to us “that’s a recording” I pointed licking my lips “oh yeah sorry” she said, then stopped recording to change it to picture. Putting two fingers up as she took the picture of us “thank and me next” this is painful “there is no Rihanna here” they are looking into the car searching for her of course, smiling as the next girl took the picture “you are actually so fine, thank you” saluting her as she walked off, this puts my confidence so high. Like I am just that nigga, nobody can really tell me anything because I am just that nigga. Putting the car window up as I got ready to drive off and give this food to Robyn, she’s going to let me do anything so I can’t wait for this, talking about kiss her anywhere, nasty ass knows I am going to be nasty on her, I can’t help it.

Walking into the room, Robyn is still sat next to the bed with Rylee “daddy’s home” closing the door behind me, Robyn got up from the chair “so” turning to me “oh wow, Giorgio Baldi? But I really wanted chicken?” She cringed, mean mugging her “deadass, don’t play in my face like that” Robyn pulled a face “nah, don’t want it” she waved me off, I am about to blow because this is ridiculous. She loves this shit “don’t play in my face Robyn!” I spat, she shushed me “I want chicken, I don’t want it. Stop being abrupt” I am going to have a tantrum right this second, I can’t even. This is so unfair “I am joking with you, looking like you’re going to blow” she giggled “thank you boo” she took the bag from me “but was I right?” I questioned “of course you were right Chris, come on now” watching her walk off, oh I can’t wait to play this little game she started “was she good?” I pointed at Rylee “yeah, just watching her little flinches she does when she is asleep, changed her diaper. I just miss her interacting with me so badly, pains me. But come, let’s eat” making my way over to Robyn, as long as Robyn is happy so am I “win win situation here, you got my favourite food and you’re able to touch me, just for a moment” I sat down laughing “how long for?” Robyn sat across from me, her eyes her so flirty, I don’t know “how long is a kiss for?” I shrugged “can be a long time?” She shook her head “a kiss! That is a whole passionate kiss, we ain’t on that level, right?” She is sneaky “I should have heard the terms and conditions before anything, man. I’ve been played!” I am so dumb; I just ran off.

I actually enjoyed that wack ass pasta food she likes “oh yeah, they gave it for free. They said they are upset to hear about Rylee, they hope she gets better” Robyn cooed out “they are so sweet, I’ve closed my doors right now. On the outside, it’s about me and my family. I need that to be better before I proceed with that, you know” she shrugged as she ate, it’s like she is eating for two, I mean she’s eating my leftovers too “what was you and Mel speaking about? I know it’s not my place but you both looked at me and I felt a type of way” Robyn chuckled “erm, she was really telling me that to be strong, Rylee will get better. She is a fighter and Dolly is looking over her. That she hopes this is what makes you both see what is the main focus, and then she asked if you were ok and how we both getting on. Just that and I said that we need to look forward for Rylee and then we can work on us while that is happening, she just wants me to be ok. She knows I can get depressed so that is why she asked” licking my bottom lip nodding my head, I believe Robyn and what she said. I did think that they were being sly, but Robyn was straight up about it “cool, I was just thinking that you was both being sly, that is all” Robyn smirked “and if we was, what you going to do nigga?” rolling my eyes at her “don’t play in my face so you happy yeah? Content” staring at her lips “I am thank you” I want her so bad, it’s so bad “sleeping naked tonight?” Robyn crossed her leg over “I am sleeping how I want in the bed; I don’t know about you. As a man you should say you have the bed alone, I will sleep elsewhere” waving her hand about “sat there like you holding wine, if you don’t quit playing. I will be in the bed ma, you can’t stop me” Robyn giggled “shut up, I am missing wine with my food” I can tell she is.

I gave Robyn time and space to just get ready for bed, I think she has had enough time now. I just sat with Rylee “I love you so much pookie, you get your rest” leaning over, pressing kisses to her forehead “love you” pressing another kiss before moving back, I wish the bed was closer but of course it can’t be. Making my way to the room, the door is open of course “we leaving this open” I said, Robyn is already in bed with her hair wrapped “that is my tee for tomorrow!? I bought one tee, are you serious” Robyn biting on her nail smiling, she shrugged “I think you need to leave me alone; I sleep inside the covers you sleep out. Divorced parents don’t sleep together” she is terrible “I swear” I dragged out “swear what” annoying ass “so can I kiss whatever? I was right” she crazy if she thinks I ain’t going to do it “fine” she sighed out, licking my lips walking around the bed “this bed is small by the way” I just realised “Chris, please don’t” she pleaded knowing damn well I am “Chris!” she screamed out, I yanked her leg to me and bringing her foot to me “please” she pleaded “I haven’t had a shower” tilting my head to see her panties, Robyn yanked the tee down “hurry up” pressing a kiss to her big toe “you are something else” she shook her head, placing my mouth over her big toe “Chris!” she yelped yanking her foot back, I laughed walking off.

Stretching my body out, my arm under the pillow as I laid onto my side. Robyn is awake, as I knew “glad you put sweatpants on, nobody needs to see your ass in boxes now” Robyn is a hater “you know I was joking about you sleeping outside of the covers” look at her, now she is joking “oh now it’s a joke?” I questioned “well I didn’t mean it, you can sleep in the covers. I am actually so happy to be in a bed, those chairs were breaking my back” my smile grew “you know what I mean, shut up” I didn’t even need to say anything, she is the one laughing “you’re laughing too, the hell” she lightly hit my shoulder “aight, I mean you should be used to that” I said it, she was waiting for that “see, I knew you going to say that” resting my head back on the pillow “show the six pack then?” Robyn asked, moving back a little. Touching my stomach “what you think?” she is staring at me mad hard “how, what do you do that you end up like this?” moving back into my position “using all my upper body strength to move around, it’s hard you know. Like you think the bathroom was a mess on purpose, like ok I could have done better but I struggled. So yeah, that is why really” I shrugged “true, but you still need to clean that. On a real what did you do? Like let’s be real, I know what a tour bus is like, I have spent a lot of time in those. Where did you sleep, spending hours on there” she is really stuck on that “yeah I know, its very intimate. I noticed that, but truthfully there was two buses, I was on the one with the Jewish man. I get annoyed after a while, because there was no privacy, so I was not liking it” I admitted “you mean to tell me you didn’t like it? But you lasted” nodding my head “I was determined but it was like boring, go to the city, sat around, watch his show, sat around, leave. I was like this is wack, then you were here and there having so much fun, I was jealous of you. So I had to look like I was having fun” Robyn and I pointed at each other and then laughed “you are stubborn” she can talk “be quiet, you’re the same but yeah it was wack” shaking my head “but there were girls there, big tits and ass?” I chuckled “you right, there was. And yes they came up to me, but I wasn’t interested, actually one of them did say you’re married to Rihanna, you’re so lucky and stuff but I really wasn’t interested, you’re my type” I grinned “me?” Robyn pointed to herself “yeah, you’re my type. It’s crazy how you have been beautiful your whole life” Robyn snorted “nigga” she shuffled up on the bed.

“Actually, erm. It’s funny because I had well have so many men in my inbox thinking I was getting a divorce, even when I was working and I met people on the god, I was getting offers” pulling a face “but do they know your sleep with your mouth open? That you take in all the air” Robyn back handed my arm “shut up” she is always abusing me “let’s be nice, let’s talk about nice things. I have a question; do you regret getting married to me or is there something you would change?” Robyn paused, she did mention it, so this is interesting to know or hear on what she thinks because she mentioned it “regret is a big word, I think I would like to explore the Chris that came out of jail. I based my feelings and likes and what I know on what I knew of you, and I blindsided myself so I didn’t have that clear vision so I feel I should have waited it out, so I figured out what makes you tick and makes you be the way you are. I should have waited but I don’t regret marrying you, there is nothing we can never not overcome unless you cheated” nodding my head “how does that make you feel?” she questioned back “it’s not good, it’s not good to hear anyways because to me I would marry you in a heartbeat you know?” Robyn nodded her head “but that’s because I am still Robyn, I treat you as I did back then, I mean yeah I have Rihanna, the other side but I don’t bring that to you” she has a point “you’re still my poppa, just a pain in the ass” I laughed a little, I just hate that she feels that way with me.

#chrianna #chriannaff #chrianna ff #chrianna fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction

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