#as much as i know i cannot let myself let my guard down my abuser was once an innocent little girl too; i can't hate her | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

doggosaurusrex · 2 years

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The Spectre Jail Keeper (4/4)

“Despite Hubert’s reservations, Ferdinand’s plan of turning themselves into masked vigilantes had been nothing but a boon to their efforts of thwarting Duke Aegir’s forces.

So it was only natural that their early success was shortly followed by unmitigated disaster.”

During their vigilante escapades, Hubert discovers a clue that can lead them to those who slither in the dark; however, the search forces him to confront the insecurities that have been haunting him since the fall of the empire.

Sequel to Fool’s Masquerade. Azure Gleam slight AU.

Content Warnings: depictions of canon-typical violence, torture, implied/referenced child abuse, brief mention of imprisonment, depictions of ptsd, anxiety, and panic attacks.

Word Count: 7593

Part One Part Two Part Three

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It was mid-afternoon by the time they reached the woodland that surrounded the hidden cottage. The area was shrouded in a fog enchantment, concealing the inhabitants from those wandering by. Even if the odd person did make their way through both the fog and the dense forest, they would not find much of interest.

Just a widow who lived a quiet life in the woods with her two children.

The story was not a complete fabrication.

When they reached the outskirts of the forest, Ferdinand set Hubert down, electing to drape the mage’s arm over his shoulders and help him limp the remainder of the way. Ferdinand’s right arm wrapped around Hubert’s waist, holding him upright. It was slow going.

They had not spoken since deciding on their new destination. The silence hung thick and heavy between them. Hubert swallowed past the shards of glass in the throat, the crushing weight in his chest, and spoke first.

“I…I am sorry.”

Ferdinand stopped walking but said nothing. With halting words, Hubert continued.

“As you have mentioned, my behaviour these last few days has been…unacceptable. Deplorable, really. Worse still, I took much of my poor temper out on you when you were only trying to offer assistance. And for that, you have my deepest apologies.”

Ferdinand sighed and turned to Hubert with a sad smile.

“I could tell that something has been upsetting you. A lot has happened these last few months…more than one person should have to carry… and I know that you guard your secrets closely…but if there is ever anything I can do to relieve that burden, even just a little…”

“I…cannot bring myself to share my innermost thoughts at this time; however…I would like to…eventually.”

Hubert offered Ferdinand a small smile.

Ferdinand nodded with a smile of his own. The arm around Hubert’s waist squeezed just a little tighter.

Once again, they went quiet but the silence between them no longer felt harsh. They picked their way through the fog and the thick foliage. Hubert had the path memorized and even Ferdinand had become familiar with the correct trail during their time recovering from their injuries after escaping captivity.

Ferdinand was careful to take them along a path where the terrain was flat enough not to rattle Hubert’s foot while still keeping them in the right direction. As they got closer, they removed their masks and tucked them away in Ferdinand’s rucksack.

This is no time to laze about. You have a duty to fulfill.

Hubert squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. His breathing becoming ragged.

Going to hide behind your mother’s skirt as the empire collapses?

Ferdinand tightened his grip around Hubert’s waist and pulled the mage closer. Hubert could feel his companion watching him with worried eyes.

Will you let them slip through your fingers again?

“Hubert? Ferdinand?”

The new voice cut through his spiraling thoughts. Hubert opened his eyes.

His mother stood at the edge of the property. The simple, green cotton dress she wore was smeared with patches of soil, as were her hands and parts of her face. Her black hair was tied in a loose bun, a handful of greying strands falling loose across her face. Her eyes widened and she dropped the gardening spade she was holding.

Moving briskly, she approached the two men and pulled them both into a tight embrace.

The familiar scent of pine and mint flooded Hubert’s senses. He wrapped his free arm around her, the other still holding onto Ferdinand. His nerves uncoiled a sliver of tension. He tucked his face against her shoulder.

“Flames, what have you two gotten yourselves into?” she whispered as she held them close.

“Lady Eileen,” Ferdinand greeted Hubert’s mother with a warm smile.

Once the embrace ended, he somehow managed to offer her slight bow while still holding Hubert upright. Hubert grunted from the movement, partially out of discomfort and partially from embarrassment.

“A pleasure as always! And might I say, it is an honour to be back in your delightful presence.”

Hubert’s mother sighed, amused, and shook her head at Ferdinand’s performance.

“Your flattery will offer no distraction, Ferdinand,” she said with a wry smile, “And how many times must I remind you. It is simply ‘Eileen.’”

“Of course, La-…er…Eileen.”

“Mother…” Hubert offered her a small smile, grimacing, “It is…good to see you again. You look well.”

His mother frowned, her citrine eyes –almost identical to Hubert’s own – tracked up and down both of her visitors.

“And the two of you look positively dreadful,” she frowned.

The worried creases on her face deepened when her eyes locked onto Hubert’s swollen, purpling foot. She crouched to assess the damage.

“Oh dear, this looks most worrisome. Come. Let’s get you inside.”

She looped Hubert’s left arm over her shoulders, wrapped her other arm around his waist, and helped him limp towards the cottage.

“By the void, did the two of you attempt to bathe in a swamp?” his mother quipped, wrinkling her nose.

“A marsh, actually,” Hubert chuckled as he limped forward.

“Dare I ask?”

“It was a miscalculation. Nothing more.”

Hubert’s mother hummed in response but did not offer any further comment.

The cottage was a small, quaint building. It occupied a couple acres of land and was built from pine logs. Small gardens filled with herbs and bright flowers surrounded the cottage. A sizeable clearing, the once tall grass carrying clear signs of having been trampled repeatedly by a wyvern, lay next to the building. Tucked out of sight was a small stable that Hubert could hear the soft sounds of horses neighing from. Tall pine trees surrounded the clearing, acting as silent sentries. The magic fog that had shrouded the surrounding forest had dissipated a touch, just enough to let a handful of sunrays shine through.

“I take it Matilda and Theodore are out?” Hubert inquired, noting how quiet the cottage was.

His mother nodded.

“Matilda has taken Buttercup for a flight, and Theodore is in the woods searching for materials he can use for his new carving project.”

Hubert nodded with a small smile.

“I take it that he has completed carving the chess set he was working on last we were here.”

His mother turned to him with a quirked eyebrow and a half-smirk.

“You are not supposed to know about that.”

“My apologies.”

“Well, try to act surprised when he presents it to you as a gift.”

“I am afraid I must offer my apologies as well,” Ferdinand cut in, looking sheepish, “I was the one who informed Hubert in the first place. Though I did not mean to spoil the surprise Theodore had planned! Had I known the chess set was intended to be a gift…”

Hubert’s mother chuckled and shook her head.

“What am I to do with you two?” she said with a fond smile.

With his mother and Ferdinand assisting him, Hubert eventually managed to limp his way into the cottage. He was led to the sitting room where he was gently guided into taking a seat on a simple, wooden bench. He sat lengthways across the bench, wincing when he had to lift his right leg. Hubert’s mother fetched some spare pillows to prop up his wounded foot.

The interior of the cottage was modest in décor. The furniture was nondescript; pieces assembled from wood and plain cotton fabrics that focussed on functionality over decorative flourishes. Clay vases filled with bright flowers cut from his mother’s gardens were placed around the room, accompanied by intricate, wooden animal figurines that had been carved by Theodore. Dried herbs hung from the rafters, filling the house with the scent of mint, lavender, and rosemary.

Hubert’s mother to a seat next to the bench, an open tome on her lap. She carefully unwound the splint to get a closer look at Hubert’s toe. Eyes narrowed and her brow furrowed. Hubert winced as she tilted his foot to examine the fracture.

“Why do I suspect that you delayed seeking medical treatment?” Hubert’s mother inquired dryly with a raised eyebrow.

“Well…” answered Ferdinand before Hubert could respond, “our journey here may have been a little…delayed. Hubert did not wish to disturb you and was determined to seek an alternative form of treatment.”

Hubert scowled at the other man.

Traitor.

“But…we hurried here immediately once it was clear that was not option!” Ferdinand added, noting the glare Hubert was shooting him.

Hubert’s mother sighed and shook her head. She gave Hubert a sharp look.

“Well, it is a good thing you eventually swallowed your pride and came here. Your bone isn’t just broken, it’s shattered.”

A pale light radiated from his mother’s hands and surrounded his foot. Immediately, Hubert could feel the bones resetting themselves. He hissed as the broken fragments realigned. The bruising receded, and his toe was no longer swollen to twice its size. Ferdinand hovered nearby, watching the process with curious eyes.

Hubert gave his foot an experimental flex once the healing spell dissipated. Stiff, and still sore, but Hubert was confident he could walk on it with little difficulty. They would be able to depart shortly.

“You will need to rest that foot for a few days, and you are not to walk on it any excessive amount,” his mother said sternly as if she had read his thoughts.

“Now, let me see your hands. Do not pretend they are unscathed. I have eyes.”

Hubert sighed and unveiled his magic-scarred hands. He had been attempting to hide them within the folds of his cloak in hopes of avoiding his mother’s detection.

Over his shoulder, he could hear Ferdinand’s sharply inhale at the sight of Hubert’s hands. His mother tutted as she held his hands, turning them over and running a careful finger over the myriad of blisters and the web of blackening lines that formed just beneath the greying skin. Her scowl turned furious when she rolled up the sleeves of his tunic and noted the dark lines had crawled up to his elbows.

“Hubert,” she scolded, eyes narrowed into daggers, “This degree of casting toxicosis is beyond severe. What possessed you to keep casting without a suitable catalyst?”

She gently pushed at his fingers so that his hand closed into a fist. Hubert winced at the movement.

“Well, it would seem that your nerves are still functional. How about mobility? Any stiffness?”

“I still have full range of motion, though doing so does cause a degree of pain,” said Hubert through his clenched teeth.

“Good,” she said with a curt nod, “It would seem the toxicosis has not progressed as far as I had feared. Still, had you delayed treatment any longer, the tissue would have turned necrotic, the infection eating away at your muscles and tendons before eventually sinking into your bones, leading them them to decay and collapse. You are fortunate to not have lost the function of your hands and arms.”

“Wait…is that true?” Ferdinand gasped before turning to Hubert with an angry grimace, “Hubert! You told me the damage was only superficial in nature and that it only pained you immediately after casting!”

Hubert groaned and averted his gaze away from the two faces scowling at him.

“It was not my intent to go without a suitable tome for so long. Besides…” he turned back to Ferdinand, “I only casted when it was absolutely necessary.”

Ferdinand opened his mouth to speak but his words deflated into a weary sigh.

The same cool glow of light engulfed Hubert’s hands. Immediately, the sharp barbs that had been latched to his nerves began to withdraw. The cracked skin on his knuckles knitted together, the grey pus that had oozed from them vanishing. The blisters shrank, smoothing back into unmarred flesh. He hissed between his teeth as he felt the infection being pulled from his veins. It felt as if liquid fire had been poured directly into under his skin; however, slowly, but surely, the net of dark lines began to recede.

“I heard a most curious tale when buying vegetables in a nearby village the other day,” his mother kept her voice neutral as she continued the healing spell, but Hubert could already see a small smirk starting to build.

“Apparently, there are two criminals that have been causing absolute pandemonium for Duke Aegir and his forces. Now, that information alone is hardly noteworthy, Adrestia has been plagued with brigands since the duke took charge. What was most unusual, however, was that these bandits, rather than stay hidden in anonymity, have chosen the to present themselves in a rather…theatrical manner.”

Hubert carefully kept his expression flat, eyes focussed on the shrinking black lines. He could see Ferdinand shooting him an anxious look from behind his mother.

“The ‘Twin Jewels of the Empire,’ I believe they called themselves. Quite a fascinating duo. Providing just as much help to the common people as they are terrorizing the duke’s soldiers. It is as if they walked out of a fable.”

“Well, that certainly sounds like an extravagant tale. Likely a hopeful fabrication forged as a beacon of light to carry the populace through these dark times. Wouldn’t you agree, Ferdinand?”

“Uh…why yes! A most unusual, fanciful tale, I must say. In all of our travels, I have not seen hide nor hair of these daring rapscallions.”

Hubert’s mother made a noncommittal noise that indicated that she did not believe them in the slightest. She poked at Hubert’s fingers, testing their ability to properly bend and flex, as well as inspecting his fingertips for any blisters she had missed.

“Of course, if such figures did exist, I would imagine they would be most noble and valiant in nature to face the wrath of the duke’s corrupted forces in the name of protecting what is right and just!” continued Ferdinand.

Hubert internally groaned, resisting the urge to bury his face in his hands.

His mother paused her healing spell and sighed. She fixed them with a withering look.

“I certainly hope the two of you are better at maintaining this charade while out on your excursions.”

The anxious look on Ferdinand’s face turned even more trepidatious. Hubert kept his eyes averted to the wall.

“Fret not, your identities have not been compromised,” she said, “I was only able to piece this information together because I was already aware of your crusade against Duke Aegir. As far as most of Adrestia is aware, the young Marquis Vestra perished in battle during a skirmish in Leicester, and the heir to House Aegir is currently under house arrest in the capital.”

Hubert gritted his teeth at the rumours his mother shared. It was not the first time he had heard them, but it enraged him all the same. The fabrication of Hubert being slain on the battlefield did not bother him in the slightest. But to say Ferdinand was in house arrest under the watch of the duke…

It had been Duke Aegir who had handed Ferdinand over to Thales in the first place!

The flapping of wings drew their attention to the window. A large shadow loomed over the yard closely followed by the beast it belonged to.

A sizeable wyvern filled the clearing outside. Its large wingspan folded back against its body. The sun shimmered off its burgundy scales. Its pointed snout sniffed the ground in search of small game it could snack on.

“By the goddess’s blistering backside, what is that stench?” the wyvern’s rider screeched from the other room.

The source of the voice, Matilda, entered the room, her light armour clinking with each step. She wiped the beads of sweat that dripped down her face and dumped the bolt axe she had been carrying haphazardly on the ground. The scent of ozone clung to her.

Her colouring was much the same of Hubert’s and his mother’s; albeit her face was rounder and her nose less pointed. Wisps of black hair had pulled themselves free from her braid during the flight clung to her forehead.

She grinned when she noticed Hubert reclined on the bench and ran to greet him with an embrace, only to halt her approach. Her nose wrinkling.

“So, you are the source of that putrid odour,” she grinned, waving a hand in front of her face.

“A pleasure to see you as always, dear Matilda,” Hubert smirked at her, “I do apologise for our current state. I suppose you are more accustomed to the aroma of wyvern dung.”

“At least I can fly a wyvern without emptying the contents of my stomach.”

She turned to Ferdinand, a nefarious glint in her eyes.

“Splendid to see you here too, Ferdinand. Perhaps now you will finally accept my challenge to a duel,” Matilda cast him a wicked smile.

“I am afraid I must decline,” said Ferdinand, shooting an uneasy glance to Hubert. “It has been a long few days, and I fear I may not be able to offer the challenge you so desire.”

“You will have to accept one of these days. Lest I start to believe that Hubert’s stories of you are nothing but hyperbole,” she huffed, “Do you not believe me to be a worthy opponent?”

“That is…I did not mean to imply anything of the sort,” Ferdinand’s face turned more anxious, desperately looking to Hubert and his mother to intervene. Hubert smirked, allowing the exchange to go ahead uninterrupted.

“And here I was under the impression that you enjoyed a good sparring session.”

“True, though most people I have trained with do not initiate a sparring session by throwing a tomahawk at my head and screaming at me to fight them.”

“Your previous sparring opponents sound dreadfully dull.”

Matilda slumped into a nearby chair, her armour creaking. She eyed Ferdinand and Hubert, taking note of their mud-stained clothing, as well as the assortment of injuries that their mother was still attending to.

“What in Seiros’s stinking armpit happened to the two of you anyway?”

“A small number of unfortunate mishaps. One of which led to the two of us being submerged in a marsh, while the other resulted in a minor fracture. Though it is nothing of concern. We should be on our way shortly,” Hubert stated.

His mother momentarily looked up from her healing spelling, shooting him a sad frown.

“A broken toe and a plunge into a marsh?” Matilda’s grin widened, “Oh, I must hear the story behind this.”

“I will have you know that your brother sustained those injuries in a most honourable manner, for he fought off an entire battalion of the duke’s mightiest warriors!” Ferdinand announced proudly, his chest puffed out. “Why, I would not be standing here today if his masterful combat prowess had not eliminated them swiftly and without mercy!”

Hubert wanted to sink into the floor and disappear. Ferdinand had conveniently left out the part where Hubert had broken his toe before being ambushed by the group of soldiers.

“And let me guess. There were thirty of them and they were all breathing fire,” Matilda said dryly.

“That is no way to speak of your brother’s magnificent triumphs! Why, he is one of her majesty’s greatest generals. The finest mage ever to grace the imperial army! On the battlefield, he is the very picture of resplendence—"

“Ferdinand. Stop. Talking. Please!” Hubert begged, burying his face in his hands, his cheeks blazing crimson. He could hear his mother chuckling and Matilda cackling at the exchange.

The healing spell dissipated. Hubert inspected his hands. There was still some tenderness, and there were pale, grey scars from the tips of his fingers and leading up his arms; remnants from where the rot had seeped into his veins; however, the blisters on his hands had shrunk and faded into tiny pockmarks, and his flesh no longer appeared ashy and dead. He clenched his hands into fists then released them, pleased with how they had healed.

“That should do. I best not see you attempt any strenuous spellcasting while your hands are recovering,” his mother scolded.

With a weary sigh, Hubert’s mother closed the tome on her lap and placed it on a nearby table.

“Ferdinand, if you would be so kind as to brew us some tea while I tend to Hubert. You remember where we store the camomile, yes?”

“Yes! Of course, La---Eileen!” said Ferdinand jumping to his feet, “I shall prepare the finest pot of tea you have ever had the pleasure of tasting!”

“You always do,” Hubert’s mother chuckled as Ferdinand darted into the kitchen. The sound of cups clanging could be heard within seconds.

“Matilda,” she turned to her daughter, “If you could assist him…”

Matilda raised an eyebrow at the request.

“He likely has greater knowledge of our tea supplies than anyone else in this house.”

“Matilda…”

Matilda made a performance of sighing deeply, but her face softened as her eyes jumped between her brother and mother. She trotted into the kitchen.

“And do not forget to properly store your axe and armour. It would do us no good to appear as if we live in a sty.”

“Yes, mother!” Hubert could hear the eyeroll in Matilda’s voice from the other room. “I do not need to be nagged like a child.”

“Keeping your hands full, is she?” Hubert chuckled.

“No more than you ever did,” his mother said with a fond smile, “And still do, as it would seem.”

Alone in the room, Hubert’s mother turned to him, concern etched into her face.

“Now…how are you?” She brushed back one of the bangs that hung loosely across his right eye and Hubert found himself leaning into the touch.

Weakness must be concealed. Purged.

He pulled his head away from her caress. He kept his eyes fixed on the wall in front of him, knowing his mother was watching him with worried eyes.

“Putting aside my current predicament, and a short series of recent mishaps, we are faring as well as can be expected for two fugitives—"

His mother raised her hand, cutting him off, and sighed. Her face reflected an odd mixture of sorrow and frustration.

“Hubert, you are here as my son. Not as a servant for the empire,” she reached for Hubert’s hand and squeezed.

“Your father is no longer here.”

Hubert remained silent for a stretch of time before squeezing his mother’s hand in return. When he spoke, it was barely above a whisper:

“At times…it does not feel that way…”

His mother nodded sadly. She placed her other hand on top of Hubert’s as well. No other words were spoken, but Hubert continued to cling to his mother’s hand. Her grasp a tether. The scent of mint and pine softened some of the sharp blades that pierced his thoughts and Hubert felt a small fraction of the tension bleed from his muscles, leaving him with the dull ache. The shadows still hung in his mind, but for a moment, their presence had faded, just a little bit.

The two sat in comforting silence for a time. Eventually, they released hands and his mother placed a kiss on his forehead.

The light clink of porcelain announced Ferdinand’s arrival. He carried a tray with a simple teapot and five cups.

Ferdinand set up four of the cups, saving aside the fifth one for Theodore once he returned from his foraging. Evidently, he had memorized everyone’s tea preferences. Ferdinand poured the tea into the four cups, ensuring Matilda’s had a heaping spoonful of sugar, placing a cinnamon stick in another cup of tea and handing it to Hubert’s mother, and leaving Hubert’s unmarred by additives as per his liking. To his own cup, Ferdinand added some lemon and a drop of honey.

Matilda trailed behind, carrying a plate of thickly sliced bread, cheese, jerky, and some butter. An assortment of fresh berries with a dollop of yogurt was piled on the side.

Food had never been of particular interest to Hubert. It was little more than fuel to keep his body functioning. There were very dishes that he truly enjoyed. However, the plate of fresh bread, cheese, and fruit made his mouth salivate and his stomach rumble in anticipation.

The food Matilda had prepared may have been simple, but after days of sustaining on wilted, rotting vegetables that were barely fit for consumption, it was the most divine thing he ever tasted.

Camomile tea was far from Hubert’s favourite beverage, but the heat from the cup felt soothing against his worn, barely healed fingers. He sipped the tea quietly, listening to Ferdinand chat with his mother and sister.

Theodore eventually joined them. He entered the cottage carrying a small bundle of wood cut from walnut branches. A quiver of arrows and long bow were strapped across his back. The youngest Vestra was a couple years Matilda’s junior; however, a recent growth spurt had put him at around the same height as Ferdinand. Like his siblings, Theodore had inherited his mother’s black hair and citrine eyes. The contours of his face, which had been soft and round as a child, had sharpened in the recent years, resulting in him appearing nearly identical to how Hubert had looked at that age.

He shyly poked his head into the sitting room upon hearing the extra commotion but grinned brightly when he saw the two visitors. Theodore quickly took a seat next to Ferdinand, who in turn presented him with a cup of tea (two dollops of honey with cinnamon). He conversed with Ferdinand in a hushed, but enthusiastic voice.

After they had finished their small meal, a wooden tub was set up just outside the cottage and prepared for a bath. On Ferdinand’s insistence, Hubert went to make use of the tub first.

The tub was just large enough to fit Hubert’s long legs if he kept his knees bent. Before he had submerged himself, he had used the wash basin to scrub off any excess dirt, sweat, and mud that had clung to his skin and hair. The bath, heated with a minor fire enchantment, was warm and scented with lavender sprigs. Steam lifted from the tub, contrasting pleasantly with the crisp evening air.

Relaxed, Hubert slumped in the tub until the water grazed his shoulders, the tops of his knees poking out. The water was just hot enough to leave a pleasant sting. His pale skin flushed pink in the water’s luxurious embrace. The sulfur stench of the marsh had finally been washed away, replaced with the lavender aroma soothed the frayed corners of his mind. The tender, battered nerves of his freshly healed toe and hands had calmed in the water’s gentle heat. His eyes drifted shut as he listened to the tranquil hum of the forest’s insects.

If you are well enough to laze about, you are well enough to continue your hunt.

Hubert groaned, clutching the side of the tub until his knuckles turned white with one hand, the other pressed against his temple. His thoughts were glass shards scraping against the inside of his skull.

His injuries were adequately healed. There was no reason to linger.

Despite the warmth of the bath, his hands had begun to shake once again.

With haste, he stepped out of the bath, dried himself, and changed into a spare set of his clothing that his mother had packed when they relocated to the cottage. Using a straight razor and a hand mirror that had been provided, he shaved the bothersome stubble that had been spreading across the lower half of his face.

Once finished, he inspected his work in the mirror. His face looked even more haggard than before. Stripped of the growing smear of facial hair that had concealed much of his face, he resembled cadaver: little more than ashen skin stretched too thinly over sharp, jutting bones.

His left eye twitched.

Idleness is a vice to be eradicated.

Thorned vines ensnared his chest and scalded his nerves. He blinked away the burning sensation in his eyes.

You do Lady Edelgard no good wallowing in self-pity and hiding like a frightened child.

Hubert gasped, desperately trying to pull air into his lungs. His body trembled.

You were to protect Lady Edelgard with your life, and your negligence failed her. Will you continue to let suffer on Thales’s hand? You owe her more than your feeble excuses and snivelling.

A crash centred his attention. Hubert looked down to see that the mirror had slipped out of his hands and shattered on the ground. Cursing, he crouched to pick up the broken fragments.

“Hubert?” said a soft voice behind him.

He turned to see Theodore standing at the doorway. A tangle of black curls wreathed eyes that watched Hubert with a look of distress.

“Nothing of concern.” Hubert held up the mirror shards. “A moment of clumsiness, that is all.”

Theodore did not move from the spot. His brow remained pinched, anxious, as he stared at his older brother.

“I am fine,” Hubert said with a forced smile, “I will rejoin you and the others shortly.”

His younger brother quietly nodded and retreated inside, but his face remained uneasy.

With a heavy sigh, Hubert disposed of the broken glass and returned to the others.

Inside the cottage, Hubert’s mother was speaking to Ferdinand as she thrust a handful of clothing at him.

“…you may be closer to Theodore in terms height, but I suspect his clothing may not be broad enough to fit you…Here…You would be better suited borrowing something from Hubert.”

“Oh, I would hate to be an imposition, Lady Eileen…” Ferdinand stammered.

“Ferdinand, you are family,” she said warmly, “You are never an imposition. And do stop with the honorifics. Unless, of course, you would like me to start referring to you as ‘Lord Ferdinand.’”

“That…is not necessary…and I see your point,” Ferdinand chuckled.

He accepted the offered clothing with thanks and headed towards the bath, offering Hubert a warm smile as he passed by.

Hubert took a seat at the table where Theodore and Matilda were occupied playing a game of Fox and Goose. Each of the game pieces had been delicately carved from red oak to resemble the animals they represented. A testament to Theodore’s growing skills as an artisan.

His mother paced the room as she prepared a list of supplies that he and Ferdinand would likely need during their travels. She scribbled down what she required on a scrap of parchment, murmuring each item under her breath as she wrote.

“I will need to stop by the nearby village tomorrow and purchase some food and medical supplies for the two of you...Root vegetables, dried fruit, and jerky would be the best options for avoiding early spoilage... Suitable clothing for Ferdinand will be needed as well …Should not take more than a couple of days…And a tome, of course. The Sage’s Tome should be an appropriate replacement. It is only sitting in storage collecting dust…”

Hubert was only half listening. His mind spun with plans on how to best slip away from the cottage without incurring his mother’s wrath. She had declared that they rest for at least three days to ensure no complications arose from Hubert’s freshly healed injuries. Sneaking past her detection would take a level of subterfuge he had not had to employ for some time. His mother may have been a Vestra by marriage, but she was a Vestra nonetheless.

Convincing Ferdinand to leave the cottage prior to the recovery period his mother had outlined would be no easy feat either…

“Hubert?”

He jumped at the sound of his mother’s voice. She watched him with an expression that was equal parts calculating and concerned.

“I apologize,” he cleared his throat, “It would seem the events of the last couple days have caught up with me. I must have dozed off.”

“Quite,” she said evenly, though the lines in her face furrowed with skepticism, “I was merely asking if there was anything you wished to add. I should have no difficulty procuring any supplies you may require over the next few while you are resting.”

Hubert did not miss the extra stress she placed on the last few words. He shook his head in response.

It was not long before Ferdinand re-entered the cottage. Damp, copper hair clung to his face, and his skin was flushed from the steaming water. Hubert tried not to stare too intently at how the borrowed, white tunic clung snuggly to Ferdinand’s much broader chest. The top three buttons of the tunic had to remain undone in order for it to fit. On several occasions, Hubert’s eyes drifted to the trail of flesh that led down the small patch of Ferdinand’s exposed chest. If he squinted, he could spot a handful of fine, copper hairs poked out just above where the top button had been secured.

He tore his eyes away, only to see that Matilda was watching Hubert with a raised eyebrow and a wicked grin.

The remainder of the evening passed with little fanfare. The five of them chatted amiably for a time. They sipped on hot beverages and snacked on an assortment of baked goods Theodore and his mother had prepared earlier. To Hubert’s delight, his mother also brewed some coffee she had been saving for a special occasion. He sighed with contentment as he enjoyed the first cup of coffee he had tasted in months and tried not to grimace as he watched Matilda drown her own cup in goat’s milk and sugar. Hubert nibbled at one of the cinnamon scones that he had always been partial towards, while Ferdinand, between sips of tea, scarfed down his second lemon square and began working on a third.

Hubert watched Ferdinand as he laughed and conversed energetically with the other Vestra family members. He could not help but smile sadly as he watched his companion. It had been some time since he had seen Ferdinand truly at ease. The man shone brightest when he was with others, acting as a beacon that would bring out the light in anyone he spoke with.

Hubert frowned internally, a sharp blade piercing his chest at the realization. Being stuck with only Hubert’s morose company for weeks on end had likely been detrimental to Ferdinand’s wellbeing. There were more suitable companions for one who shone so brightly.

Ferdinand von Aegir did not need a miserable ghoul sapping his light.

Departing from the cottage alone was Hubert’s best option. Ferdinand clearly enjoyed spending time with Hubert’s family. Perhaps it was best to leave him at the cottage where he would be hidden…Safe...

A sharp stab at the though of parting ways lanced through his core, but the spectres circling his mind chased the feeling away.

Hubert had worked in solitude. Thrived in it.

He would move on.

One cannot reliably work in the shadows while they cling to others.

Night fell, and everyone retreated to their quarters. Ferdinand took the spare room he had used during their previous month of convalescence. It did not take long for the cottage to become silent.

Attempting to escape the cottage on their first night’s stay would be foolhardy. Hubert’s mother was likely on high alert and watching for any signs that he was sneaking away. Besides, the events of the last few days had sunk into his bones and weighed him down with exhaustion. He elected to delay his departure for another night.

Hubert’s room was encased with shadows. The dark was not something Hubert feared. In fact, he had used its shroud to his advantage many times. However, in that moment, with nothing but the sound of crickets chirping their nocturnal melodies to keep him company, Hubert felt uneasy.

He huffed, forcing his eyes closed. It was ridiculous. Being on alert for an attack. The cottage was well-protected with a host of enchantments shrouding its location. Furthermore, even if someone of nefarious intent managed to stumble their way through the fog, his mother was a skilled gremory and more than capable of dispatching of most intruders. Providing Matilda’s wyvern did not eat any unwanted guests first.

And yet he could not shake off the sensation of being unable to relax without someone else present.

The door creaked open, and a shadowy silhouette slipped into the room. Hubert bolted into an upright sitting position. Normally, he would have a dagger under his pillow for such an event.

Unarmed, his eyes narrowed at the intruder.

“Identify yourself!” Hubert barked at the shadow.

“Hubert! I am truly sorry. I did not mean to wake you.”

The tension in Hubert’s shoulder’s eased at the sound of Ferdinand’s voice.

“It is no matter. I was hardly asleep in the first place. Is something troubling you?”

Ferdinand did not respond right away, but Hubert could hear his footsteps tentatively cross the floor until the reached the foot of the bed. A strip of moonlight from the open curtain veiled the other man in silver and illuminated his tired face.

“It is…well I…” Ferdinand shook his head and turned to leave, “Sorry, I am being foolish. I did not mean to disturb you. I will—”

“Ferdinand,” Hubert sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I cannot condemn you for being foolish as I have no idea why you wished to see me in the first place. Since we are now both awake, if you would care to share?”

Hubert gestured for Ferdinand to speak.

Ferdinand shuffled on the spot, his face downcast and focussed on the rug beneath his feet.

“Truthfully, I…could not sleep…”

Ferdinand went silent, but Hubert nodded at him, wanting him to continue.

“This all seems so absurd, and I know I am behaving in a childish manner, but…I have become…unaccustomed….to sleeping alone.

“Rationally, I know we are far safer here than we would be any time on the road, and there is no need for an additional person to keep watch, but…I was wondering…if it is not too much trouble…”

Hubert knew he should have sent the other man away. Insist he attempt to sleep on his own.

Instead, Hubert was already shifting to the right side of the bed in order to make extra space. He lifted the covers on the left side of the bed, signally for Ferdinand to join him. Even in the dim moonlight, Hubert could see Ferdinand’s eyes grow wide at the offer.

“Are…are you sure?”

“It would do neither of us any good to waste this rare opportunity for a decent night’s rest. And if I am being honest…” Hubert paused, pushing the words past the ghosts in his mind and articulating what he wished to share, “the solitude has affected my ability to properly rest as well…”

Ferdinand nodded quietly, letting Hubert’s words sink in. He moved to his side of the bed and slipped under the covers. A sigh of relief escaped Ferdinand’s lips as he eased himself into the soft pillows.

The warmth of an extra body was felt immediately. The chill that had been clinging to Hubert’s bones began to dissipate. He sunk again his pillow, eyelids fluttering shut.

“With the number of times we have shared sleeping quarters, people may mistake us for a wedded couple,” Ferdinand chuckled.

Hubert was suddenly wide awake. Fire crept alone his neck and chest. Images fluttered through his mind of Ferdinand, undressed, pressing his toned body against Hubert’s, and pinning him to the bed as he peppered the mage’s neck with kisses and ran his calloused hands across Hubert’s pale chest. Surely Ferdinand’s lips were as soft as they appeared…

Hubert swallowed heavily, trying to shake the licentious thoughts away.

“Not that I would suggest doing anything untoward!” Ferdinand added hastily. Even though he could not see the other man’s face, Hubert knew Ferdinand had likely turned as red as himself.

The images in Hubert’s head intensified. Heat seared through his body.

“You come up with the most ridiculous ideas,” Hubert desperately hoped his words did not sound too strangled.

“Would it be so ridiculous?” said Ferdinand, a wistful note to his tone.

After a few moments of tense silence, Ferdinand spoke again.

“How are you? Really. You were especially quiet after you returned from your bath…”

Hubert sighed heavily and draped an arm over his brow. Already, he could feel his father’s needling words gnawing away. Perhaps he should have sent Ferdinand away the moment he entered his room…

“At what point did I become such an open book?” Hubert muttered.

“Perhaps I have just become exceptionally skilled at deciphering the enigmatic Hubert von Vestra.”

Ferdinand spoke with a light chuckle, but his expression turned somber once more. He rolled over onto his side, directly facing Hubert.

“Alas, you are avoiding my question once again.”

Hubert remained silent, staring at the shadows drifting across the ceiling.

“Ferdinand…I was thinking…” Hubert had to force his words past the pressure crushing his throat. His eyes burned and he could feel a touch of moisture gather on his eyelashes.

“Perhaps…it is best…if you remain here…”

The room was silent. Even Ferdinand’s breathing had gone quiet.

“My family has taking a liking to you, and you appear to enjoy their company as well…I will have to face Thales and his cohorts eventually…a confrontation that will not likely have a positive outcome…

“Adrestia needs Ferdinand von Aegir…a scion of hope and true nobility…one that will lead the people to a bright future…”

Still no response. Hubert took a shaking breath and continued.

“I was, am, and will always be her majesty’s finely honed blade. A shade, purposed with disposing of threats to her majesty and the empire. It is only natural I confront Thales, even if it costs me my life…

“Adrestia will not miss one shadow…nor will you.”

The suffocating silence filled the void between them. It felt as if his heart and lungs were being simultaneously skewered with blades and bludgeoned with a hammer. Hubert blinked rapidly, a trail of moisture slipping across his cheekbone.

From beside him, Ferdinand inhaled sharply.

“Are…you…out of your mind?”

Ferdinand’s hissed voice was laced with fury.

A hand on Hubert’s shoulder gently, but firmly rolled him to the side so that he faced Ferdinand. Hubert kept his eyes squeezed shut.

“Hubert…please look at me,” Ferdinand said softly.

A soft caress brushed away the bangs that hung over Hubert’s right eye. It took every ounce of willpower he had not to lean into the touch. A calloused finger gently wiped away the runaway tear that was pooled on Hubert’s cheekbone.

“I had hoped your mother’s warning about you attempting to sneak away was just caution on her part.”

Hubert remained quiet, but hesitantly open his eyes. Ferdinand’s face was a torrent of sorrow, anger, but also deep sympathy and fondness.

“If you think that even for a second, after everything we have been through together, that I could possibly abandon you…”

Ferdinand attempted to stifle a soft hiccup. His intense amber eyes stared at him, glistening with suppressed tears.

“You are everything to me. I know you often compare me to a beacon, about how I bring hope to others, but it is you who are a light to me!”

Ferdinand continued to caress the side of Hubert’s face, smiling through his tears.

“I know you may not feel it, and I will tell you a million times, if need be, but my world would be shrouded in darkness if you were to disappear from it.”

Ferdinand cupped the side of Hubert’s face and pulled him a fraction closer.

“I do not know how you came to have such a poor opinion of yourself, let alone assume that I regarded you in a similar manner, but I assure you, I wake up everyday, ecstatic, that you are by my side. As I have said, you were my tether when despair threatened to engulf me. I wish to be the same for you.

“Besides…light shines at its most brilliant lustre when wreathed by the dark’s embrace.”

“More saccharine poetry?” Hubert huffed, but he could not stop his lips from quirking into a small smile. A faint sniffle broke past his defenses.

“You cannot fool me. I know you are quite fond of my ornate narrations,” Ferdinand grinned back, ruffling Hubert’s hair with the hand that had been cupping his face.

Ferdinand’s expression turned serious once more, resting his hand on the side of Hubert’s face.

“When we do finally face Thales -- and it will not be until we are both well-prepared and our survival is a near certainty -- we will do so together.”

They lay together for a time, neither speaking, but watching one another with intense eyes. It was Hubert who spoke first.

“My…talents…you must be familiar with them…Gathering intel…Extracting secrets…All of it has become…difficult…”

Ferdinand’s brow furrowed, but he quietly listened. His hand drifted to Hubert’s brow once more, tracing soothing circles across the mage’s temple.

The choir of phantoms shrieked, enraged in Hubert’s mind. He shoved them away and continued.

“It is as if I have regressed to being a child…scolded by my father for my ineptitude…Too much has slipped past me…”

“Is this what has been troubling you?” Ferdinand asked, his voice soft.

“Yes…among other things,” Hubert sighed. Allowing his eyes to drift close with Ferdinand’s hand still warm against his face.

Ferdinand smiled at him, as expression radiating both sympathy and affection.

“Thank you…for sharing. I know it cannot have been easy for you…”

They became silent once again, the soft cadence of Ferdinand’s breathing being the only noise in the room. The familiar earthy aroma of cedar twigs and berries surrounded him. Hubert relaxed into his pillow, letting Ferdinand’s scent and the rhythm of his breathing wash over him.

“Ferdinand,” he whispered.

“Hmm?”

Hubert swallowed.

“Those stories you always mention…would you care to share one?”

“Oh? I thought you disliked fables.”

Hubert sighed.

“If you do not wish to share…”

“No, no! I would be happy to!” Ferdinand beamed, “Let me share one of my favourites…”

Ferdinand recounted the tale of a man who had been cursed to appear as a shadowy beast. The beast man had sealed himself away in the forest, surrounded in a fortress of vines armed with sharp barbs and thorns that drove away anyone who dared approach too closely.

One day, a knight had become lost in the woods. The knight discovered the vine-ensnared fortress, shrouded in the forest’s shadows and seemingly impenetrable. Curious, the knight ventured through the vines, nimbly sneaking around the thorns and barbs until he reached his destination.

Upon entering the fortress, the beast man had been enraged and tried to drive the knight away. Although initially afraid, the knight quickly realized that the beast man’s words were ones of pain and loneliness. He made it his mission to befriend the beast man.

Despite a troubled start, the two became dear companions to one another.

At some point during the tale, Hubert had drifted towards Ferdinand, leaning his head against the other man’s shoulder. Ferdinand wrapped his arm around the mage, pulling him close.

Ferdinand continued the tale, his voice becoming drowsy. His fingers carded through Hubert’s black hair, caressing each strand, and easing the tension that had built in the mage’s brow. Hubert rested his head on Ferdinand’s chest, the other man’s heartbeat a soothing melody against his ear.

He leaned completely into Ferdinand’s touch, eyelids fluttering shut. The rise and fall of the other man’s chest, the cadence of his breathing, the soft tone of this voice, lulled Hubert’s scorched nerves into a state of docility. The spectres still clawed at his mind, but their taunting was smothered by the sound of Ferdinand’s voice, their hissing reduced to quiet murmurs.

For the first time in what felt like forever, laying in the darkened room, in the arms of the one that was dearest to him, Hubert von Vestra felt at peace.

00000

I swear this was supposed to have been a short, humorous fic about some early mishaps of the Twin Jewels escapades!! When I started writing, I was not expecting this to morph into 50+ page behemoth delving into Hubert’s trauma!

#ferdibert #ferdinand x hubert #hubert von vestra #ferdinand von aegir #doggofic

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vixenfold · 1 month

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"Don't let your guard down - especially when all is going well."

Nayen | 27 | it/its only | Germany

Ind. Raifort of Pokemon Scarlet and Violet. Scarlet based, potentially Violet depending on context.

Probably low activity.

Mun | Muse | Tags

Read the rules below or perish by my wrath and sword. I'll know if you haven't read them.

Absolutely no drama. I don't touch anti/proship discourse either. So long as what someone writes isn't fucking illegal or abusive I do not care. - If you have proof (screenshots, etc.) of a mun being abusive or doing illegal shit, feel free to send them to me.

Shipping only with chemistry. - I reserve the right to say no. - Multiship. - No romance/sexual ship with minors (mun AND muse). -- Platonic ships are welcome and encouraged. - We do not ship with pokemon at all here, UNLESS it is a legendary pokemon played similarly to a GREEK GOD (e.g. human form, intellect, comprehension, and ability to consent.)

Oc friendly. So long as you have a decent amount of information on them for me to work with and I can see that you put effort into your blog and muse, I welcome you.

Do not softblock me. If you want to get rid of me, hardblock me. That way I will not think that tumblr made a mistake and refollow again. This'll ease the stress and work for both of us.

I reserve the right to drop any and all interactions any time I want. - You're free to ask why, but then don't get butthurt if I say it's because of your muse or the thread topic.

You can remind me of a thread once every three days.

I fucking ADORE crossovers. I fucking LOVE AUs for other fandoms. - Ask me what fandoms I'm familiar with. We can work something out!

I will absolutely never write anything noncon/dubcon/r*pe related whatsoever. Mentions of such may be the case, as well as potentially be part of my muse's story or backstory, but I will never actually post anything that actively describes that assault.

Do not aim to kill or maim my muse without my consent. - Raifort is antagonist/villain coded, but that does not give you the right to have your muse hero-complex on her for no fucking reason. If that is the type of conflict you want to write with me, approach me privately first. - - If you still do try without talking to me first about it, I will ignore you. - Unless your muse is directly involved with Ms. Raifort, they cannot know of her real motives and history. If you want our muses to have pre-established history together, approach me in DMs, I love that sort of thing! But only if you give me a chance to put my own mark on it as well.

I adore villain redemption arcs, but that's going to take a lot of time for Raifort. She's pretty antisocial, and doesn't like people much. Which means that it's going to be harder to get through to her. - She's not perfect. In fact, she's an insanely flawed woman. She WILL fuck up. She WILL do awful things. But she's still a PERSON.

If you have any problems with me, the writer as a person, approach me in DMs. I promise I don't want to fight. But I will also not let myself be bullied into compliance.

More rules will be added or removed as they become (un)relevant.

Please like this post if you have read it. Thank you in advance.

I promise I'm much more chill than I sound like here. I'm more afraid of you than you of me, probably!

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real-jane · 2 years

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Conflict of Interest

[draco x hermione] ▪️ summary: hermione is representing draco in a landmark case against his father, but she seems to have a conflict of interest. ▪️ warnings: mention of lucius malfoy’s past cruelty.

His testimony lasted for nearly an hour. He spoke clearly, and his words echoed up in the high-gabled ceiling of the courtroom. Most barristers make closing remarks on behalf of their clients, but no amount of flowery legal language could say what Draco felt in his heart. His statement wrapped up thusly:

When I was nine years old, my father became pledged to a man we have come to know as Voldemort—but their acquaintance stretched back much further. My father has been embroiled with the deeds of Tom Riddle since he framed Rubeus Hagrid. My mother was not aware of my father’s involvement back in those days, but it has come to light in this court that he has been an orchestrator of dark acts for almost four decades, at the behest of his master.

One of those acts was fathering a son.

I am the sole heir to the Malfoy line, which was built on the backs of muggle-born witches and wizards. My inheritance was written in blood. My father used my mother to secure the legacy of his bigotry, and used me to attack the children of people who opposed him. I have been a tool of his abuse, and a victim of it. But I am not without guilt.

I took the dark mark when I was old enough to know better. I was brainwashed, you can be sure, but I knew what it meant to bear the skull and serpent tattoo, and I will have to bear it until my body is one day cremated, as punishment for my actions.

I have killed no one. I have harmed many. I owe countless apologies to my peers. There is one person to whom I have done the most harm, and to whom this legacy of poison can never be explained or atoned for. Myself.

I have kept myself from knowing love. From developing friendships with people who would have cared for me. From pursuing an education which might have liberated me from my father’s influence. I have kept myself from my mother’s bedside as she lay dying, and kept myself from grieving her after she passed. All this because my father made me believe I could not give or receive affection without violence. The one thing I cannot do is sit by and allow my father, Lucius Malfoy, to continue existing on this planet.

Every meal he is afforded is a meal denied to a wizard he killed. While I believe I do not have it in me to take the life of anyone unless they threatened someone I love… I do not have a family to protect. Nobody loves me. So, I have to protect my legacy and my family name and prevent my bloodline from ever continuing. I will not father children. The Malfoy line ends with me. A fish rots from the head. He, my father, is the head. His death will bring peace to several generations of wizards, just as Voldemort’s death brought peace to mine.

I request he be killed swiftly, and his death not be prolonged by last meals or any bounty of mercy. If he is afforded any rights at all, let him make his confession to a Muggle priest, perhaps the only living soul who could believe there is good in him.

I can live with the death of my father. It will pain me, what he did to me, until my memory goes. I hope I live long enough to forget him.

Thank you.

There was a heady silence in the court as Draco sat down again, but she leaned over and squeezed his knee in reassurance. “You did well,” she whispered. He nodded curtly, patting her hand.

The court did not take long to deliberate and in the end, the sentence was passed.

Lucius Malfoy would hang by the neck until dead.

It was only right that a man who so hated the Muggle world should have a Muggle coward’s death. An old-fashioned death, the kind which was exacted on petty thieves back before prisons existed large enough to hold petty offenders. Except his crimes weren’t petty, and Azkaban was too luxurious for the likes of him.

Draco slumped down in his seat. Lucius Malfoy was taken away in chains by the Azkaban guards, and the crowd filtered out of the room, leaving only Draco, his council, and a handful of court reporters, who he had agreed to speak to after the trial had concluded. He stood behind the defense table and pressed his hands to the wood.

His council held up her hands to quiet the tiny throng. “Mister Malfoy will take one question apiece, so make them count.”

“Mister Malfoy!”

“Go ahead, Jameson,” his companion said.

The man in brilliant yellow robes stood with a notepad and Quick Quotes Quill poised. “The court ruled in your favor. How are you feeling?”

Draco cleared his throat. “Justice has been done, and I believe it will be a relief to many.”

“Why did you give the closing remarks instead of Ms. Granger?” another reporter asked, a woman named Marissa from a small gossip rag.

He glanced at Hermione Granger, who was standing pensively beside him, appearing strong and unbending as she had always done, since the day he came to her asking for help. “Would you like me to answer?” she asked. He shook his head.

“While Ms. Granger has always represented my interests above and beyond the call of duty, I felt it necessary for the court to understand that Lucius Malfoy’s crimes cannot be summarized on paper, nor can they be considered in any way inconsequential to my family’s legacy.” He shrugged. “No one is able to tell my story but Me. Even if they are as eloquent as Ms. Granger.”

Rita Skeeter held up a clawed hand. “Are you open to dating now that your trial is over, Mister Malfoy? And if so, may I tell my readers we have an eligible bachelor on our hands?”

He blushed. “That is one facet of my life to which you shall never be privy, Miss Skeeter.”

“So that’s a yes, then.” She winked and Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“Any questions pertaining to the actual trial?” Hermione did roll her eyes, and he was greatly amused.

A man stood, this time wearing becoming tweed robes with a jaunty hat and a mustache to match. “My question is for Ms. Granger: why did you take on this case in particular?”

Draco felt her tense up. “Surely that is something your readers don’t care about,” Draco said.

“On the contrary. I feel my readers will want to know how a member of the golden trio came to represent a former Death Eater.” Giles Gibbons was known for his direct and honest questioning, which always flowed freely from him, as if his extemporaneous thoughts were tightly organized in his head—he was neither disrespectful nor coddling. Which is why Draco suddenly felt quite self-conscious that Hermione might be required to answer such a personal question. She wasn’t the one on trial. She was his council. An incredible barrister, to be sure, but she was not under sentencing. The fact he had bullied her up until third year and been a part of a murderous cult was not a factor in their working relationship… was it?

Hermione sighed. “Mister Gibbons, while I appreciate your frankness and fluidity, which is indeed an admirable quality in a fountain pen, I don’t believe it is my responsibility to answer why I, an experienced barrister and woman of integrity, would take on a worthy case. You may think you understand what those words mean—former Death-Eater. Golden Trio.—you did not live through the origins of them. For me to try to explain to you why Draco Malfoy is worthy of defending... He had a case, he came to me, I said yes. That’s all you need to know.”

Draco tried to pry his jaw off the floor. Yes, he was grateful to her for all she had done to help him, but he had figured she had done it out of some misplaced sense of duty… and not because she really believed his case worthy of defending. His heart leapt.

“That’s all the questions we’ll take for now.” Hermione took the blank look on Draco’s face to mean that any further questioning would prove fruitless. “If you have other questions you’d like for Mister Malfoy to speak to, you may send them to my office. Thank you.”

She gripped his elbow and tugged him away from the reporters, who murmured lowly amongst themselves. Draco strode to keep up with her but even in her stilettos, she wildly out-paced him. She stepped into the lifts well ahead of him and Draco had to dive through the doors to make it inside. Once they reached the main floor of the Ministry, she kept up the grueling pace until they were outside in the smoggy London air, and he could finally grab her elbow, yanking her out of the crosswalk and the path of a shiny black cab. She collided with his chest.

“I’m sorry,” she breathed. “I’m a bit touchy.”

He released her, and she brushed her hands down the front of her robes. “Well.” He breathed out. “That’s over. I’m… relieved.”

“Good,” she peeped. She didn’t look at him, choosing instead to sit on the steps of a small monument to some inconsequential Muggle royal, which was a few blocks away from the secret entrance to the Ministry.

“Are you… alright?” Draco stood at the base of the steps.

Hermione curled up her fingers into her palms. “We… won. We won. And still Gibbons insinuates defending you makes me some kind of saint! As if—UGH! As if you’re less of a person, and nothing your father did matters because… I’m sorry,” she sighed. “I’m so mad. What a piece of shit.” She clearly wanted to scream or something. Draco reached for her shoulder before he could stop himself. He grasped it and squeezed. When she looked up at him, her eyes were shining with frustrated tears.

“Please don’t cry,” he said softly, sitting beside her. “I cannot bear it. I… do think you’re a saint. For taking my case on, for helping me write my remarks and gathering so much evidence against my father.” He laughed. “Hell, if it weren’t for you, we never would’ve found three-quarters of our witnesses. You’ve got dogged determination, and I could not have done any of this without you.” His hand slid down her arm to her elbow. “You’ve spent the last six months of dinners discussing this case over Chinese food and formatting theories—I’m sure you’re long past ready to have normal cases again.”

She leaned into his touch. “I’m not, Draco. I’m not ready.” Hermione took his hand. “This case has been everything to me.”

“I understand.” But he didn’t, really. Not in the same way.

She nudged him with her shoulder. “Fuck what Jameson asked. What are you really feeling?”

Draco looked away.

Well?

He felt... like he had a weight pulling from his sternum which would eventually cause him to hunch like an old man long before his body truly gave out on him.

Like everything he had worked for was finished, and so… now what?

Like his mother would be proud of him, and missing her so much that the thought of her sprung tears in his eyes--if only she could be there with him.

He felt feverish.

He felt sad.

He felt high on accomplishment.

He felt hungry.

He felt hot and desperate to be touched and fuck if he wasn’t ready to unbutton his collar and breathe again.

“Too much to properly articulate.” He touched his top button but did not undo it.

She nodded once. “May I say something, not as your barrister… but--” she stopped. She looked up at him. He raised an eyebrow, but she took that as permission to continue. “I can’t listen to you talk anymore about having nobody. I can’t listen to it because I’ve spent the last six months--what is that? A hundred and… eighty days, or so?--caring very much about what you need.” She grazed his cheek. “I’ve represented some real gems, which happens when you start out as a public defender, and I am proud of the work that I did. But I failed you, because… it is not your best interest I have had in mind. It’s mine.

“Draco… do you not see how much you matter? To me? Don’t you feel it? If you don’t, it’s fine, I can live with that, but… you can’t spend the rest of your life believing nobody cares about you or what happens to you.” She searched his eyes, but he was too stunned to react. All he could do was stare at her. Hermione touched his cheek again and smiled sadly. “Alright. Well. Now you know, and… I should go. I don’t remember what it’s like to have a night off,” she said with a light laugh, tinged in sadness.

They had truly spent nearly every single evening together working on his case… He had come to depend on the doorbell ringing at four pm, which signified she was waiting with takeout in one hand and an armful of files. She always had a determined smile on her face. She always forced him to peruse her latest finding before cracking open the reusable container with his food inside, and they marked the end of every evening with a glass of scotch. The next morning, her owl would appear with a scroll summarizing what they had discussed the night prior, and a promise she was looking into this thing or that, and she’d show him her findings that night--and did he want Chinese again, or would Indian do? The realization settled in him, and Draco did unbutton the collar of his shirt, then. He was sweating.

She was the part of his day he looked forward to the most. He would wait on a knife’s point for four o’clock to roll around, snapping at his assistant when she disturbed his anxious reverie, and the moment Hermione stepped inside his apartment, he would let out a breath that had been choking him all day long. He set his watch by her.

He dreamed about her.

He noticed when her hair was different, when she picked a new lipstick. He noticed when she shifted on her heels because her feet were aching because she had been standing beside him all day at the preliminary hearings. Everything about her was attuned in his mind.

“I think I love you,” he realized out loud, before the thought could bounce around in his brain long enough to decide if it was right to say. He stood abruptly and held out a hand to her. Her hand was shaking, but she took it, and Draco pulled her up. He walked down one step so she was eye-to-eye with him. “No… I know it. For certain.”

Hermione smiled softly. She touched the skin at his throat where his button used to sit, tracing the circular indent there. His Adam’s apple jumped. “You don’t have to say that.” She sounded desperately sad.

“I do. I can’t hide things from you, and I don’t want you to represent me anymore.”

Her eyes were teary again--why was she so sad? “Why not?” she sniffed.

“Conflict of interest.” He leaned down and kissed her. “I love you, Hermione.”

As the realization passed over her face that he was being honest, that he felt the weight of her words, she smiled brightly, and the tears streaming down her cheeks became happy ones. He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her jaw, and hugged her off her feet. She laughed as her shoes fell to the ground with a clatter, and he spun her around. When he set her on her feet again, she barely came up to his chest, so he bent down to kiss her again, which was all he really wanted to do.

“Why are you so short?” he teased. She wrinkled her nose.

“That’s rich coming from a behemoth.” She put her arms around his neck and linked her fingers. “Say it again?”

Draco straightened, forcing her to stand on her tip-toes on his shoes . He brushed her hair off her face, which he had dislodged in the spin of his declaration. “I lied to the court, but I did so unconsciously. There is one person for whom I would kill, and who I know, without her having to say it, because her actions have proven it--loves me. And it’s you. Please don’t leave me tonight, or any night hereafter.”

Hermione nodded. She inclined her head to kiss him, and smiled wryly. “So. What should we get for dinner?”

“Ms. Granger, for once, let me feed you.”

It was a lot, he had to admit, to contend with in one day. There was a heaviness in him, for the finality of his father’s life and the end of the trial, but one thing would remain constant in his life. It was more than he could ever have hoped for.

Her.

#dramione #draco malfoy #hermione granger #realjane #draco and hermione #dramione fanfiction #draco malfoy and hermione granger #draco malfoy x hermione granger #draco x hermione

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unbridgeabledistances · 3 years

Note

prompt: domestic gallavich/being intimate in a nonsexualway bc there’s like 3 weeks til the next episode 😐

your wish is my command, anon!<3 i decided to tie this into next ep bc i simply cannot HANDLE mickey’s outfit/big gay metamorphosis & i needed to create the scene that inspired it so i wrote this

a one-shot bridging 11x06 and 11x07 in which ian and mickey talk about “gay friends,” ripped jeans, and do a bit of processing along the way

tw for brief mention of homophobia/abuse (bc terry lol)

“How come we don’t have any, like, gay friends?”

Ian looked up from where he was laying on the ground, breathing heavily after a series of push-ups, a nightly routine that he was trying to keep intact even though he and Mickey were practically driving the entire circumference of Chicago every day to make weed deliveries from dawn til dusk, leaving them both exhausted. It had been a week since all the shit with Terry, and a month or so since he and Mickey had started the security gig; while months ago their evenings would be spent sitting side by side on the bed in a brittle silence while Ian read or scratched in his notebook and Mickey played games on his phone blasting at full volume in the pajamas he’d been wearing all day, these days the evenings in their bedroom were softer and warmer— like they were settling into the space together, like they were both on the same team instead of constantly clashing and butting heads while trapped in a too-small space. These days, after having dinner in the clamor of the crowded kitchen, he and Mickey would head upstairs and change out of their uniforms, and Ian would work out while Mickey mostly just lounged on the bed, sometimes making commentary and watching him bob up and down with a pensive smirk or scrolling through his phone.

But tonight, Mickey was quiet— his eyes flickered to the curves and edges of Ian’s torso every now and then as Ian broke a sweat, but otherwise he wasn’t playfully poking and prodding like usual.

Mickey had been a lot quieter in general this week, after all the stuff with Terry— Ian knew seeing the source of all of Mickey’s trauma in a wheelchair immobile from the neck down, the most vulnerable Terry could have been, felt worse than someone repeatedly twisting a knife in Mickey’s abdomen. But beyond the initial shock and the almost-murder and lugging him up the stairs, having Terry in a wheelchair twenty feet away did something deeper to Mickey. This whole situation shifted something solid that had been lodged in the pit of Mickey’s stomach for years— Ian could see it, and he fucking hated it. He hated Mickey’s glassy contemplative eyes as he looked out the car window while they drove to a new dropoff location, lost in his head when he thought Ian wasn’t looking. He hated the tightly wound tension between Mickey’s shoulder blades as he slept, curled into himself and twisted in the comforter, facing away from Ian on the other side of the bed. He hated the tight smiles Mickey gave him as he made some offhand joke about Terry when they could hear him cursing and shrieking through the open front windows, smiles that were trying to prove something outwardly but showed the barbed pain stinging at Mickey’s insides. Ian poured out what he could in soft touches, in skims of fingertips at the breakfast table and in an arm over Mickey’s waist while they slept; but he could only give as much as Mickey would take, and for most of the week Mickey had shut everyone out with iron walls.

Ian couldn’t imagine what was stirring in Mickey’s mind; he’d seen some of Mickey’s trauma firsthand, sure, and some of the stories about Terry came slipping through the cracks when Mickey’s guard was down— mostly on those late nights when they both couldn’t sleep and Mickey whispered into the crook of Ian’s neck as they were curled into each other, cradled in the dark silence of their bedroom. But Ian knew there was deeper shit that he hadn’t heard about, and he could see the constant fear of Mickey’s adolescence hanging heavy around his neck all these years later. But Mickey didn’t need anyone to push his walls down— Ian knew he’d open up when he was ready.

Which is why this random question, the most direct statement Mickey had really made to him all week, caught Ian off guard. He sat up, folding his arms over his legs and staring up at where Mickey was slouching on the bed, propped up by a pillow he’d shoved between his back and the wall. “Gay friends?” he asked, more than a little confused.

Mickey cleared his throat. “Yeah, gay friends, y’know. Like all your youth center queers that came to the wedding or whatever.” He suddenly looked down and picked at a fraying thread on his shirt sleeve, not meeting Ian’s eyes.

Ian raised an eyebrow in curiosity. This was random, sure, but Mickey wouldn’t have brought it up if something wasn’t weighing on him, bubbling up after all the events of this week.

“I don’t know— I guess since the pandemic and stuff, I haven’t really kept in touch with Geneva or any of those guys who came to our wedding. We only really talked after I got out of prison because of all the Gay Jesus publicity bullshit, but after you got out I wasn’t really thinking about that as much.”

Mickey blew out a breath, so quietly Ian barely noticed it. Ian stood, wiping his sweaty forehead and plopping down on the bed next to Mickey, folding his legs so their knees were almost touching— but still giving him space, still letting him breathe.

“Why’re you asking?”

“Don’t know, really. Just thinkin’.” Mickey picked at his shirt sleeve again, then flickered his gaze up to meet Ian’s eyes, two clear pools of glassy blue. “Thinkin’ about what life could’ve been like. If I wasn’t scared shitless of who I was for so long.”

Ian felt something twist in his gut, the same queasy pang of pain that always resurfaced whenever he saw Mickey like this, whenever he was reminded of all the unspeakable agony that Terry had put him through.

“It’s fucked up that you didn’t get to be who you were for so long, Mick,” he breathed, knowing that statement didn’t cover the amount of things that were fucked up about this situation.

Mickey ran his teeth over his bottom lip, like he was concentrating. “Yeah.”

Ian let them sit there for a second. It seemed like Mickey wanted to say more, but something in him was frozen solid. After a moment, Ian tried to break the tension.

“Hey, for the record, I’ve had lots of gay friends and you aren’t missing much. There’s lots of PC bullshit that’s important but took me fucking forever to learn— and even then, I never really felt like I totally belonged.” He gently nudged Mickey’s ribcage. “I guess that’s why I forgot about everyone, between work and getting to be with you all the time— I’d rather eat pizza in the mall food court with you than go to some boujee fucking café with the youth center people any day.”

The corner of Mickey’s mouth ticked upwards slightly. “Yeah. Guess you’re right.” His fingers went slack around the threads on his shirtsleeve he’d been picking at. “You don’t… miss it though? Bein’ around people who’re like us?”

Ian paused for a moment, imagining the youth center crew in the same room as Mickey— it would be fucking comical, like people speaking two different languages, like astronauts trying to communicate with aliens on Mars through gestures and confused looks. But that was just because Mickey didn’t know how to speak that language— he’d been kept shrouded in an abusive household with daily death threats for years, and then stowed away in prison where he didn’t have the chance to go to fucking brunches and clubs and education events like Ian could. Ian got the chance to learn all that shit— it wasn’t Mickey’s fault that he never did, and if it was anyone’s, it was all Terry’s.

Ian’s eyes flickered to Mickey’s face— he looked vulnerable and split open, like he was drifting away in all the possibilities of what could have been. When he answered, Ian spoke softly, carefully.

“I mean… I guess I do. There were nice parts of going out with people, or even those after-parties back when I used to work at the club. There’s something nice about being with your people, where you can make jokes about stuff or talk about deep shit and everyone’s on the same page. It’s hard to find that around here.” Ian tentatively crawled his hand over the blanket, letting it rest on Mickey’s knee. “S’there anything else going on?”

Mickey raised his thumb to his mouth, biting at a hangnail contemplatively. “Dunno, man. Just thinking. How it might be nice, to have friends like us. I used to be scared of hangin’ with other queers, but I think that was just some deep bullshit with Terry.” He looked up to meet Ian’s eyes. “It’d be nice to stop… hating that part of myself, or whatever.”

Ian smiled, reaching to intertwine his fingers with Mickey’s and tracing a pattern with the thumb that was free from their grasp on Mickey’s inner thigh, a soft touch of validation that Ian hoped would soak into Mickey’s skin.

“I think so too.” Ian watched the corner of Mickey’s mouth curve upwards. “I can definitely hit up some of the people I used to hang with, and see if they wanna get coffee or something? With the two of us? Only if you want.”

Mickey nodded— then chuckled a breathy laugh, like he was relieved. “Fuck it. Yeah.”

Ian couldn’t help it; Mickey looked so fucking sweet and so relieved that he had to press a kiss to the top of his head. Mickey squirmed underneath him, bristling like a cat that didn’t want to be pet like he did with most of Ian’s soft touches— but Ian just grinned and doubled down, pressing another slower peck onto Mickey’s temple. Mickey blew out a slow breath.

“Don’t know what I’d fuckin’ wear to a brunch with a bunch of Northside do-gooder gays,” he said after a moment, his voice wavering so slightly that no one except Ian would have noticed.

Ian rolled his eyes fondly, giving Mickey’s hand a quick pulse of a squeeze. “Mickey, are you kidding? Wear whatever the fuck you want. You don’t need to change yourself, that’s kind of the whole point.”

“Yeah. Fuck. Guess it is.” Mickey was quiet for a moment, but still chewing on his bottom lip, like he was building the courage to say something more. Ian could tell— he let the comfortable silence hang between them, knowing that Mickey would break it when he was ready.

“D’you think it’d be stupid if I, like, tried to… jazz up my look a bit?” He darted his eyes nervously to Ian’s face, down to their clasped hands, and then back to the covers again. “Like, uh— I don’t know. Maybe wore some shit that didn’t have holes in it. With patterns, or whatever.”

Ian felt his face split into a grin. Patterns, or whatever— god, he loved his dumbass husband so fucking much. He pressed another kiss to Mickey’s cheek— this time Mickey didn’t flinch away, his only resistance a forced roll of his eyes.

“Mick, I don’t think that’s stupid at all. I think you should dress however makes you feel good.”

“’Kay.” Mickey pursed his lips, like he was still hesitant. Ian rubbed his thumb over the back of Mickey’s hand, their fingers still clasped and hanging limply in Mickey’s lap. The silence was hanging again, and Ian could still feel the tight waves of anxiety bouncing off of Mickey. He took in a breath.

“I could… help you, y’know. If you wanted to dress a certain way. At the very least I could gas you up and tell you how hot you look.” Ian paused, smirking and running his eyes over Mickey’s torso. “But I could also help you pick shit out, or whatever. We could order some stuff online.”

Mickey looked up at him, his eyes oddly relieved and open in a way they hadn’t been in days. “Yeah?”

Ian softly smiled. “Yeah. Only if you want to. You’re you, and you don’t have to pretend to be anyone else. I love the way you look— hell, it drives me crazy, Mick. But— if you feel like you aren’t dressing the way that makes you feel the best, or like you’re putting on an act for other people and you don’t want to anymore— then we can figure this out.”

This time it was Mickey that initiated affection, lifting their clasped hands and pressing a quick ghost of a kiss to Ian’s wrist. Ian smiled in acknowledgement, then playfully raised his eyebrows. “You wanna look online now? I’m done working out and more than happy to help you gay up your look.”

Mickey unclasped their hands, playfully shoving Ian squarely in the chest. “Fuck you.” Then, in an uncharacteristic move from the way Mickey had been flinching away from his touches all week, Mickey leaned in closer to Ian’s chest, nestling his back on Ian’s sternum and reaching for his phone that was discarded on the blanket beside him. “Alright, hot stuff. Where’re we fucking shopping?”

Ian grinned and snapped the waistband of Mickey’s sweatpants playfully, shuffling underneath him and getting comfortable.

“’Kay, let me think. I used to order a bunch of shirts and stuff from Primark when I was going out with the youth center people. They have good denim, too.”

Mickey’s bottom lip was caught between his teeth again while he listened. He hesitated for a moment, his thumb hovering over the phone’s keyboard— then, in an automatic movement, he quickly shoved his phone into Ian’s hand, cheerfully wriggling back into Ian’s chest. Ian smirked and unlocked the phone, happy to take the reins— online shopping for fashion was clearly lightyears out of Mickey’s comfort zone.

Ian navigated over to the Primark homepage, plastered with torsos of toned models wearing striped button ups and ripped jeans. His thumb pressed down onto the “denim” tab, and he started to slowly scroll through the rows of options, holding the phone so Mickey could see.

“I don’t know what you really want, but they’ve got pretty cheap pants and shit that’re good quality…” Ian let his voice trail off, speaking softly to where Mickey was lying on his chest in a voice that he knew was tickling the shell of Mickey’s ear. Mickey almost seemed… nervous, or at the very least paralyzed by the wealth of options. He raised his thumb to his mouth, anxiously biting the hangnail again.

“I guess those ripped ones don’t look too bad.”

Ian clicked on the picture Mickey was referring to. They were black jeans, a dark wash and skinny cut, with patches ripped on both knees. Ian felt something well in his chest, probably an overreaction to a pair of jeans— but these jeans were perfect for Mickey. They weren’t too much, weren’t overly fashionable, but they still felt more clean-cut than the baggy pants Mickey usually threw on. These jeans were badass, and totally aligned with Mickey’s don’t-fuck-with-me vibe, but they were deliberate. Stylish. Like they were saying here the fuck I am.

“Yeah?” Ian knew Mickey could tell he was smiling from his voice.

Mickey smirked, craning his neck and turning to look up at Ian. “Yeah. Think I can pull ‘em off?”

Ian pressed his lips together. “Fuck yeah. You’re gonna look so good.”

Mickey just gave a satisfied smile, and nestled back against Ian’s chest again. “Let’s get ‘em, then.”

#i hope u enjoy!<3 #also im sorry I’ve been so mia in regards to prompts #my mom’s been in the hospital all week and it’s just been a very tough and draining time #but writing this brought me so so much joy!#gallavich #gallavich fic #shameless #shameless fic #ian x mickey #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #shameless season 11

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i-moved-blogs-ffs · 3 years

Note

Danganronpa request can a reader who is really kind and a sweetheart adopt the warriors of hope and helpem to forget they traumas and also can the reader beat the hell up the warriors of hope parents after everything they done to those innocents children's please

Of course, my darling! I love the WoH so much- I adopted them too, they're your adoptive siblings now so you all gotta get along ok-

These are probably gonna spiral into parenting headcanons because I cannot help myself- just let these kiddos have a happy home life man- :(

TW for mentions of abuse. It's nothing explicit, but it can be upsetting to some. Please be cautious.

Anyways, let's get started!

- 🌸🍭mod mikan🍭🌸

S/O adopting the WoH!

Now, we all know these kiddos had a bad time.

They were all abused in different ways, neglected, put down to the lowest point they could be.

Junko was like a light at the end of the tunnel for them, a savior - someone who cared, someone who they could trust, someone who loved them. But it was all lies.

She didn't care.

They couldn't trust her.

She didn't love them.

But then, you came around. At first, they thought you were like every other demon; evil, cold and uncaring.

And yet, there was this warmth radiating off of you... Almost like another light they could chase to get to true joy.

After Komaru and Toko defeated each of them, they felt lost. What were they supposed to do now that their empire has failed? Were the adults going to punish them, by abusing and taking advantage of them even further?

The group wandered the streets of Towa City, alone, hiding from every adult they could see and fending for themselves.

However, they stumbled upon you and Komaru. You two have been actively looking for them after finding out they survived.

But the reason why you were looking for them, was pretty unexpected.

You wanted to take them in as your own. They were just kids after all, no matter how much they tried to make themselves seem bigger. You wanted to help them, teach them that not everyone will hurt them, because they deserve to be loved like any other child does.

And so, they went with you. Very reluctantly mind you, but they didn't have much of a choice.

And as time went on, they opened up to you, one by one. And soon, you guys became like a happy family.

Somewhat dysfunctional, but still happy family.

Ok so, origin story's out of the way, now let's get in a bit deeper-

Parenting the Warriors is pretty hard- they each have something about themselves that you need to keep in mind.

And besides, taking care of 5 children wouldn't be easy even if they weren't traumatized-

You have to be patient, warm and kind to them, and to you that's no problem!

I would imagine Masaru would be the first to let his guard down around you, because he could tell that you weren't a bad person from the start.

He would start to admire you greatly, seeing you as the only cool adult around!!

He's always trying to impress you or get your attention because of that. And you always give him praise, telling him he's the most awesome kiddo ever!!

He always gets a bit bashful when you do, scratching his head as an "awhh, shucks!", escaping his lips.

He's very fond of you! He wants to do the things you do, like trying out your hobbies or imitating your mannerisms. He just wants to be as cool as you are.

While it is cute, you have to teach him that he's only the best when he's himself!

Kotoko was probably the second to open up. The first thing she noticed is that you never, ever used her trigger word in a sentence, not even on accident. You always used words like "soft", "tender" or "mallow", maybe even "delicate".

Not me looking up synonyms on thesaurus.com rn shHDHS

Like Masaru, her initial gut reaction always told her you were a good person, but the walls she had built up just couldn't let you in right away.

And when she does get comfortable, she becomes super clingy. She's almost as fond of you as Masaru is, honestly-

She always goes to you for any sort of help. She feels like you're the only person she can trust 100%, whether it be with her feelings or some other problem.

You're like- the only person who she's super nice to all the time. She used to be like that with Monaca, until you took them in.

Actually, speaking of that, they completely stopped literally worshipping Monaca's every move once you entered their lives.

Now, next up is Jataro. He initially thought you hated his every move, and that you only took him in because of pity.

But, you were proving him wrong every day. Going out of your way to talk to him, being so incredibly kind that it made his heart hurt.

You always help him out with his art! He loves when you sit down and paint, sculpt or draw with him, even if you're not artistic yourself. He feels like he's wanted, and all of that self-hatred almost completely washes away.

The biggest moment was when you finally convinced him to take off his mask. And when he did, you could tell he was way happier.

You two burned the mask together, leaving that part of his life behind you and turning over a new leaf.

And because of your influence, the rest of the kids are way nicer to him as well now!

Nagisa was the fourth one to take his guard down.

He saw how much Masaru, Kotoko and Jataro trusted you, and after observing you further, he began to see why.

He was always very distant from you, and you respected that. So, you were pleasantly surprised when he suddenly started going out of his way to help you, talk to you or spend time with you. However, you never questioned it, which made him relieved.

It's like you two silently agreed that you were cool with eachother.

He's very mature for his age, so he's the first one to try and help you with regular day-to-day tasks, even without you asking for said help.

Mans over here about to start doing your taxes HDHDH-

You always tell him to chill out, but he insists. He knows how much trouble he and his adoptive siblings are making for you, and it's his own way of thanking you.

Now, Monaca's a little interesting.

At first she was only pretending to care about you, like she did with the rest of the Warriors, but after a while she genuinely grew to love both you and her siblings.

She doesn't like the fact she cares one bit, but she can't help it.

She still has very manipulative tendencies, but you always see through them and her lies. You call her out on it, but never berate her.

She's very kiss ass-y, I guess?? Always complimenting you for the smallest reasons and calling you sweet nicknames.

She sometimes just wants to make you mess up to try and get herself to stop caring-

Like whenever a problem comes up, she always goes, "S/O can fix it!😌🙏 Our (affectionate parental term) dearest can do anything!🥰💞" and the rest of the kids are like "yah!!💖💕" because they love and support you while you're just there like🧍

Because no you can't rebuild the economy do you look like bob the fucking builder-

AnywaY their parents are already dead, so you guys beat up H*ji instead. :)

Ah, family bonding time. 💕

And done!! I love these little spawns of satan so much you guys don't even know- this was literally so fun to write that I think I got carried away a bit hshGhd- I hope this is ok!

Make sure to wash your hands, stay hydrated, take any meds you may need to and stay safe! You were so brave, have a lollipop! 🍭

#nurse!🍭#mod nurse🍭#mod mikan🍭#danganronpa x reader #danganronpa ultra despair girls #ultra despair girls x reader #masaru daimon #kotoko utsugi #jataro kemuri #nagisa shingetsu #monaca towa

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andraaste · 3 years

Text

I am not your enemy - Lance fanfiction Part 11

I wish you a very good reading 💕

Chapter 11 : Let me take care of you

Facing the ocean stretching out as far as the eye could see right in front of me, I inhaled several long gulps of air, noticing inattention that night began to slowly fall across the sky. Many sounds of wings beating the sky reached my ears and very soon, several draflayels began to flutter all around me. Passing close to my head, I felt my hair fly with each passage of one of the animals on my blanks. Nearly twenty of them gathered at the edge of the cliff, flying in harmony, creating dance-like forms of which only they had the secret. The spectacle that the familiars offered me was perfectly bewitching, I could not take my eyes off this almost intimate moment that they let me share with them.

Some then approached me and began to push me slightly in the direction of their circle. Feeling their pressure on my back increase, I decided to let myself be carried away and enter their twirling cocoon. Their songs, akin to small melodious sounds, mingled together with the regular movement of their wings, thus forming a perfectly studied pattern. It was as if they were trying to tell me something.

Closing my eyes, I let my dangling arms let themselves be carried away by their foreign yet soothing sounds. Probably feeling my fears fly away and my soul calm down, they slowed their pace until they came to focus in mine. My hair flew gently all around my face as I could feel their movements hugging mine. I didn't know how long had passed before their dancing ceased. Opening my eyelids, I watched them resume a more anarchic position to finally move away from the ledge, until I flew over the bluish expanse that adorned the horizon. Eyes lost in the dark, I with a dreamy hand withdrew a lock whose course had been stopped by my lips.

I took a few steps back when I crashed into a large figure standing directly behind me, making me jump in amazement. I turned my head to observe my interlocutor, his white hair contrasting with the surrounding darkness.

Lance gently put his hands on each of my arms, his chest hugging my back.

- It’s only me...

The softness of his voice, at that moment, troubled me, and so positioned against him, I felt strangely good, almost safe. His gaze was deep, no trace of the fog that usually darkened him was present. The blush rose to my cheeks without my being able to control it. I turned my eyes away from his, piercing like blades of ice, to focus again on the horizon.

- You are probably not the Chosen of the Oracle for nothing, he said in a tone so low that no one else could have heard but me, of which I did not discern the slightest trace of irony. The draflayels seemed to be trying to communicate with you.

His jaws clenched slightly at the utterance of those familiars the dragon harbored such hatred for, but for once he remained perfectly calm all the same. His hands caressed my arms for a few seconds before sliding down to let go, letting me turn to observe him.

Without my understanding why, no fear was hovering in my heart at that moment despite the presence of my executioner. It was insane, but yet I felt that something strange was happening between us. His gaze ogled me, troubled me. Our bodies were shown to be improbably drawn to each other. My heart pounded as he slid a lazy hand down my cheek, stroking me with his fingertips.

Lance then leaned towards me with suffocating slowness, bringing his full lips intimately to the edge of mine. Totally hypnotized by each of his gestures, I couldn’t take my gaze from the source of my desire, it inexorably approaching me. So, no longer aware of anything, only letting myself be guided by this attraction for too long silent, I closed my eyes as his mouth almost brushed mine, caressing me with his fresh breath.

His hand moved down the slope of my neck until it stopped just above my chest. I felt a smile cut his face as he put more pressure against my rib cage. Unexpectedly violent, the ground suddenly disappeared from under my feet and my body fell into the void. The fear came over me with such force that all my muscles contracted at the same time, causing a sharp pain to explode in my back, causing my head to spin at full speed. With anguish in my stomach, I watched the tar-black water stretch out its deadly arms to me.

My cry stuck in my throat.

Under the amused gaze of my predator.

I jumped up, this time managing to scream so loudly my dry throat burned. Not being able to breathe properly, I grabbed my head frantically and thrust my hands through my hair, pulling out the handles. Cold sweat beaded all over my body, pressing my t-shirt against my skin as my breathing panicked dangerously. Each of my breaths gave me a sly pain in the middle of my back, accentuating the panic that gradually took over me.

I started to cry, maybe loudly, I didn't know anything about it, thus preventing myself a little more from regaining my air. I relived my fall, over and over, until the force of the water hit me next. I felt it all around me, entering my lungs, dragging me into its abysmal depths. I saw his cold gaze penetrate me again, savoring with relish the spectacle before him, of which he alone was responsible. I felt the fear. The treason. My memories mingled with my nightmare, rendering me unable to disentangle the present moment from my subconscious.

How could Lance have done this to me ?

The door to my room swung open, letting in a large familiar figure before closing the door behind it with a thud. Only a few long strides brought it to the foot of my bed but I didn't pay attention, far too lost in the panic that took hold of my thoughts. Forcing into my field of vision, two hands grabbed mine and pulled them gently from my abused scalp, forcing me to lift my head. My tears increased tenfold at the sight of the traitor of my dreams. I tried to push him away in vain, his fingers tightening around my feverish wrists.

- Leave me, Lance ! I tried to cry, drowned in my flood of tears.

His blue eyes, alert and filled with concern, never left me for a second.

- Stop saying bullshit, he said calmly, not moving a millimeter despite my protests.

Releasing one of my wrists, he slipped a hand against my neck and kept my head firmly pointed towards him, preventing me from looking away from his.

- Calm down Andraste, you had a bad dream.

My tears continued to flow down my cheeks, wetting his thumb in their path.

- Why did you do that ? I asked him, my tone heavy with reproach. Why did you hurt me so much ? Why...

I couldn't continue my sentence, my mouth was shaking so badly that I almost made my lip bleed. For several nights, I had been assailed by the nightmares of my past life, waking up more and more often in these states of madness. I felt like I was losing my mind.

Realizing that I was referring to his actions of seven years ago, the dragon clenched his jaws tightly, his gaze fixed on mine and his hands still holding me firmly.

- Listen to me Andraste and let me speak until the end, he began. I can never redeem myself for everything I have done to you and the Guard, you will never forget it and you must not. But know one thing, whether you like it or not, I will do anything to protect you and try to heal your pain. My actions are unforgivable and I don't want anyone to do it, especially not you. So okay, you'll probably always continue to hate me, but that's the price I have to pay for everything I've done to you.

Lance paused briefly, never diminishing his attention from my face. I was so focused on his words that I forgot everything else, my breathing slowly settling on its own.

- You cannot know how much I dreaded your waking up. Hear your voice again, meet your gaze again after everything I've done to you...

His voice broke slightly over the last few sentences. Guilt was gnawing at him more than I could have imagined, even several years later. My throat tightened again but this time not just because of my dream. His words upset me deep inside me.

- So please Andraste, let me take care of you, he said imploringly, his hand sliding up to my wet cheek, creating a slight tingling on my skin.

Looking through his usually frozen gaze, I saw nothing but guilt. It was one of those remorse that never leaves you, of those that wake you up in the middle of the night, hold you so tight, until you never let go.

Lance dragged his past and his actions like a ball hanging from his ankle.

Letting my gaze still wet on him, despite the darkness I discerned a thick white mark that marked his neck. Seeming to come from the back of his neck, it contrasted sharply against his dark skin, drawing my eyes without discretion.

I realized that it was the first time that I had seen him without a piece of clothing that hid the back of his neck, his simple black top no longer camouflaging it.

Looking up, I caught his gaze on me. The dragon had obviously understood what my attention had drifted onto, but he said nothing about it. He seemed apprehensive for any response from me.

But what could I say to him ? I was angry with him down to the smallest part of my soul ! I wanted him to pay for his actions, and yet...

Still, I wished much more vigorously that he hugged me until everything disappeared. Let him kiss me until nothing more reaches us.

Without worrying about the consequences.

Echoing my dream and my silent impulses, which at first were nothing more than the reminiscence of an old memory, I wrapped my arms around his neck whose skin was much rougher where I had believed to guess a bulky mark, and brought urgently his lips to mine.

My unexpected and unreasonable gesture surprised him at first, my heart skipping several beats in anticipation of his reaction, but quickly, Lance responded to my kiss alarmingly, fiercely responding to the assault of my mouth. His hands suddenly framed my cheeks so that they tilted my face, allowing his tongue to find its way to mine, sickly deepening our shameful embrace. Relieved not to be pushed back, I exhaled against his lips, my breath akin to a moan drowning in the strength of his embrace. Tonight, I felt more than ever the need to cut myself off from the flow of my troubled thoughts. I think we were both aware of the madness of our gesture, but its saving power seemed to be vital to us at this moment.

His hands slid down my sides until he lifted my top. Separating us for a short moment, I raised my arms as he pulled the fabric over my shoulders, sending it flying into a corner of the room. Then putting his arms behind his neck, he tugged at the collar of his and quickly sent it in the direction of the first. Our lips found each other without difficulty, sharing the same uncontrollable thirst. In the adrenaline rush of the moment, I could feel his scales manifesting in places as totally exhilarating currents of energy seemed to run between us.

It was gross. Precipitate.

I thrust my hands casually through his hair as he lifted me up to sit astride him, his feet firmly inked to the floor. Caressing my hips, he meticulously kissed my bare chest, savoring every inch, giving rise to goosebumps on my skin with each trace of his licks. His applied discovery of my body made my head spin, I could feel his desire for me pulsing against the inner thighs. No longer holding it, I pulled his hair with some force to orient his face in the direction of mine. A satisfied smile appeared on his lips as he hugged me tightly.

- Do you know that dragons are impulsive in nature ? he whispered against my ear. You shouldn't be playing the most bossy game between us... although I have to admit that you are really, really sexy like that.

I smile in turn as I let my hand run between us, running down the line of his abs to the waistband of his black pants. A low growl escaped his throat as my fingers slipped under the fabric that separated us.

- I don't know dragons well yet, you might need to explain that to me in more detail...

In response, he clapped his hands under my buttocks and lifted me effortlessly to come and lay me down on the bed. I couldn't help but wince in spite of myself at the contact of the mattress against my back, a throbbing pain suddenly seizing me.

Unfortunately, Lance noticed this and immediately stopped his gestures.

- Are you in pain somewhere?

- It's nothing... I lied, trying to find his lips to silence him, but he stopped my momentum and pulled away from me.

- I can see that something is wrong, show me your back, he said in a tone that left no time to reply, straightening up at the same time.

Lying half naked, I huffed loudly as I sat up on the bed, curling up before deftly hugging the sheets to my chest. With my back to him, I allowed him to turn on the dim light on my nightstand, clenching my fists in apprehension. I waited several long seconds in a leaden silence, doubt starting to rise in me at his sudden silence. The dragon crouched behind me before gently letting his fingers run over the thin skin in the center of my back.

I couldn't help but clench my jaws in pain at his unbelievably soft touch.

- Andraste...

- Is that repulsive ? I cut him off, my voice trembling slightly.

I dared not meet his gaze so much shame consumed me. I knew very well what it was and it was probably not good...

- Since when do your wings try to come out ?

- Approximately since our training, I don’t know exactly... but you didn’t answer my question.

Lance sat down next to me before grabbing his fingers on my chin, forcing me to stop avoiding his icy gaze, my tongue loosening in spite of myself.

- I dream that I fall, I began. Again and again. And when that happens... I think my body is trying to call on my wings to save me. But I can’t.

- Since when does it hurt you ?

- About a week, but the pain is more and more present...

His grave expression made my stomach turn, what was wrong with me ?

- Did you see what your back looked like ? he inquired.

- During the first nightmares, yes. They resolved themselves, there were no traces. But now... I don't dare look anymore, Lance.

The dragon slowly let go of my face, casually resting his hand on my lap.

- My angel, you absolutely have to show this to Eweleïn.

(Chapter 12)

#eldarya #eldarya new era #eldarya lance #lance eldarya #i am not your enemy #ashkore #beemoov #lance #eldarya fanfiction

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volturiwolf · 3 years

Text

The Volturi Princess - A Felix Volturi x fem!Reader Story (part 5)

A/N: That is the second part I'm uploading at the same time as part 4 because it will probably take me a lot more time to upload the next parts.

No of Words: 4300+

Mentions of: Abandonment, Abortion, Anxiety, Blood, Bruises, Coma/Comatosed State, Death Emotional Abuse, Emotional and Physical Pain, Gaslighting, Greece/Greek Language - with translation, Heartbreak, Italian Language - with translation, Manipulation, Murder, Pain, Panic Attacks, Pregnancy, Suffering, Suicide/Suicidal Thoughts, Swear Language, Throwing Up/Puking, Witches/Wizards/Witchcraft

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“The Volturi Princess ” Tag List (reply if you want to be tagged or removed):

@felixvolturisprincess @singerj2002 @mrtony-stank1 @ikissedthescarsonherskin @alecvolturiswifeforever @hshehdyhd @kpopgirlbtssvt @eunoia-kth @iilsenewman

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Felix’s POV:

It’s been about seven months since I woke up and (Y/N) fell asleep - I refused to acknowledge that she may not wake up. I preferred to tell myself that she was taking a long nap, just as she used to do before she left Volterra. I was telling myself again and again that she was sleeping, so much so that I almost started believing it.

When (Y/N) sacrificed her blood to save me, I couldn’t stop myself from almost draining her before Chelsea finally managed to take her away from me. When I realized that it was (Y/N)’s blood the one I consumed, I staggered back and forth as if I was trying to wake up from a bad dream. Her blood always “spoke” to me - la mia cantante - and when I got the chance to taste her, I couldn’t stop myself.

Now, she was in a comatose state, pale and weakened. She was still held in the dungeons, although she was taken care of, due to her current state. Chelsea informed me regarding what happened when I was unconscious.

(Y/N) was the one who carried me all the way back to Volterra, and she was forced to spend her time in the dungeons as a punishment for her “recklessness”, and Afton and Chelsea were guarding her. She was only allowed human food, which, of course, would have weakened her body!

Even as a part-vampire, part-human, she still needed blood to survive, to keep her strong. But, I guessed that was exactly what Aro would want to avoid; he wanted to keep her weak and powerless.

I tried once to force her to drink blood that I collected from some humans but she wouldn’t keep the blood in her mouth, let alone swallow it down. So, that plan was aborted and I couldn’t think of any other way to help her.

It had been a few days since I had last seen her. Aro forbade me from seeing her until Carlisle arrived, and even then, there was only a slight possibility I would be allowed to visit her. All I could do was wait.

Yet again, I thought it was unfair for (Y/N) to get punished. It wasn’t her who attacked me, it was her father. But it was only clear that Aro didn’t care as much about my physical state, as he cared about punishing (Y/N) for leaving Volterra, traveling the world, and finding her parents.

If it wasn’t for Aro and the obligation I felt towards him and the rest of the Volturi for taking me in and turning me into a vampire, I swear I would gladly take (Y/N) away from here. I couldn’t abandon my friends though, and I knew none of them would be willing to come with me. They had all built their loyalty towards the Kings due to Chelsea’s gifts, and Chelsea was pleased with this life due to Corin’s gift.

It was basically a cycle, where they all depended on the two of them to keep the balance and the bonds within the members of the coven. And, as much as I didn’t want to admit it, though my mate bond with (Y/N) was strong and powerful, I felt my bond with the coven and the Kings being reinforced day after day.

Days and nights were passing with no news from (Y/N) or the Twins. I was spending most of my time in my room, as there was nothing to do in particular - there was no new mission and everyone else seemed to be engaged in their own thing. Apart from Chelsea and Demetri who took care of (Y/N) or visited me to make sure I was okay, nothing seemed to have changed for everyone else.

A knock on the door broke the silence. Demetri. He came into my room without waiting for a response, which was not always something he did. His face seemed anxious, and I knew something was going on.

“They are here” was the only thing he managed to say before I jumped out of the bed and passed by him quickly, running out of the door, towards the dungeons. I was met with the Twins standing outside of (Y/N)’s temporary room. Carlisle was in the room with (Y/N) and Chelsea. I wanted to go in, to make sure he took care of my love, but the Twins stopped me in my tracks.

“We don’t know what will happen yet. Don’t go in there.” Jane spoke first. “We talked to Carlisle about her situation. He’ll try to do whatever he can.”

“You know that’s not enough.” I growled at her.

“It’s the best we have. Now, Felix, stay back or I will take away all of your senses until Carlisle leaves.” Alec warned me and the only thing I could do at the moment was to be quiet and wait for the doctor to inform us of (Y/N)’s situation. I could clearly hear them from the inside of her room.

“She has lost a lot of blood. How long has she been like this?” Carlisle asked Chelsea.

“About seven months now. We waited almost a month, just to see if she would wake up before Aro sent the Twins to come to find you.” Chelsea informed him.

“I see. Well, her heart is quite weakened. Was she..you know..physically capable before..the incident? Did she feed?” I knew Carlisle was implying if she was able to consume blood before she gave hers for me.

“No.” Chelsea sounded saddened. “She was “serving” her penalty. Aro would only allow us to serve her human food. She was already getting weak before that, and when Felix was unconscious, she was getting worse. I could feel their bond getting all over the place, and I consulted Marcus. He said that for (Y/N), knowing Felix wasn’t okay, was probably why she was draining, mentally and physically.”

I knew the bond was strong between mates, but I didn’t know it could have such an effect on (Y/N). I knew that Marcus was a total wreck from the moment he lost Didyme, but I had no idea how much it would affect (Y/N) in such a short period of time.

“We’ll have to fill her with blood. Have you tried feeding her somehow?”

“Felix has tried quite a few times to force her to feed but she couldn’t swallow the blood. It would fall right out of her mouth.”

“Right.” Carlisle sighed. “I’ll try to do something else, though I don’t know if it will work for her. As much as I don’t agree, I will need you to find me some humans. I will try to transfuse their blood to her. I will need some alcohol to sterile everything, some cotton, some needles, and some tubes. Could you find me some, Chelsea?”

“Yes, I will inform the Kings and the others as well.” Chelsea exited the room. “Demetri, can you stay with (Y/N)? Help Carlisle with whatever he needs. Jane, Alec, will you come with me, please? We have to inform Heidi as well.” The Twins nodded and they all ran upstairs, while Demetri entered (Y/N)’s room and closed the door behind him, leaving me outside, waiting.

It took some time, though not too long in vampire standards, for Chelsea and the Twins to come back with everything Carlisle needed. Santiago and Afton followed close behind, each one of them carrying two unconscious humans on their shoulders. They all entered (Y/N)’s room and then Santiago and Afton left.

I heard the alcohol rubbing against (Y/N)’s skin and then a human’s. I heard the needles piercing through their skin and then I smelled the blood. It was warm and welcoming, and I heard the vampires in their room trying to control their thirst; all except Carlisle, who had been training himself for years to abstain from human blood. He wanted to help people, something which I never quite understood, until now. Now, he was the only one who could help (Y/N).

A few moments passed in total silence.

“She seems to be reacting well enough to it. If it was any other human, they may have been dead by now.” I felt the general confusion in the room, just as much as Carlisle did.

“If it was any other human, we would have to test their blood type and the donor’s blood type, to see if they match. Unfortunately, there is no such method yet, to efficiently test this. So, it is a 50-50 chance that the patient receiving the blood may or may not die because of being the wrong match with the donor. However, (Y/N)’s body may be treating the blood solely as food, so it may not affect her in that way. However, she should be well-fed. The fact that she’s becoming better now cannot guarantee that she will wake up, but, at least, it will give her a boost of energy. Then, it all depends on her. I may have to stay a few days with her to see her progress if you don’t mind”.

“Of course, Carlisle, you’re welcome to stay as long as needed.” Jane took it upon her to reply. “I will inform the Masters but I think they’ll have no issue with that.”

“Thank you, Jane. I’ll now have to switch needles for the next transfusion. Let me know when the next..supplies will arrive.”

Carlisle certainly didn’t like the way we saw humans, as mere food, disposable, but that was our nature and we couldn’t go against it. Although Carlisle, feeding exclusively on animal blood, still seemed strong, capable, with a clear mind, and way better self-control than any of us did. Though, by now, we could control our thirst pretty well and only fed when we wanted, though it still wasn’t as easy to stand close to humans, as it was for him.

In my whole life, I have never craved a human’s blood as much as I have (Y/N)’s, but our bond would not let me feed off of her; I felt sick at the mere thought of hurting her. And yet, here we were, not knowing if (Y/N) will wake up or not. I only blamed myself and my nature, though I couldn’t change what I was, what I was turned into. I could only hope that (Y/N) would eventually wake up.

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Days were passing by, excruciatingly slow. I had nothing to do to keep my mind off of her, so I tried to spend most of my time outside of Volterra, in the woods, hunting or just running around to make the time pass as quickly as possible. Yet, it did not seem effective at all; I was left alone with my own thoughts, and (Y/N) was in all of them.

I struggled to remember my time in Greece when I saw her after all this time; my head was pounding every time I attempted to figure out what happened then. I could only vaguely remember when I asked her to go back home and then I passed out. Other than that, nothing but a blur. As if my memories were wiped or my brain was messed up with.

Carlisle stayed by (Y/N)’s side the majority of the time he was spending here, except for the few times he had to hunt or when he was invited by the Masters to discuss - we assumed their conversations included (Y/N)’s state, as well as his life and how he has been all these years, living as a “vegetarian” vampire, a term he used when comparing his diet to a vampire’s “regular” human blood-based one.

I still don’t know how he managed to survive and actually thrive on it, but I knew (Y/N) also started practicing this type of diet during and after Carlisle’s departure from Volterra all these years ago. She wouldn’t feed with us; if she was in the castle, she would eat human food, claiming she had “already satisfied her blood needs”. In reality, I did catch her hunting animals once or twice before, when I went out hunting humans, but I didn’t care about her diet; I wouldn’t judge her, as long as she was happy and healthy.

The absence of blood from her diet in general - courtesy of Aro, as her punishment - has deeply affected and weakened her. Thankfully, Carlisle’s presence forced Aro to follow his orders and allow (Y/N) to access blood. Carlisle must have gone through over 30 or 40 people during the period of a week, constantly transfusing blood to (Y/N), only leaving about 2 to 3 hours between each transfusion, to ensure her body acted positively and effectively to the blood fed to her.

I was helping along with Santiago and Afton to transfer the unconscious humans down to the dungeons; Heidi was attracting them as per usual, and sometimes, Demetri and I would go hunt them down at night, where most humans would be asleep.

It wasn’t an easy job - many humans had been infected by many different diseases, so their blood was also infected. Carlisle instructed us that the humans should be as “clean” and healthy as possible, as (Y/N)’s body would most likely not be able to fight a disease at that point. Usually, as vampires, we wouldn’t be affected by that; sure, the blood tasted pretty bad, but we could still consume it.

In (Y/N)’s case, Carlisle was treating her body like a human’s - fragile, mortal, disposable. The simplest bacteria could be fatal for her life at this point, so we could only hunt for humans where we knew the living conditions were a bit better than the general consensus.

I was currently sitting on a chair, at the furthest point of the library, going through some books (Y/N) used to love reading. Among others, it was Aristotle’s De Animalibus; Lascaris’ Grammatica Graeca, sive compendium octo orationis partium; Petrarcha’s Il Canzoniere; and Shakespeare's “First Folio”.

I always had trouble studying in Greek - or any other language, if I’m being honest, but both Demetri and (Y/N) attempted to help me multiple times. I had trouble studying with Demetri because he wasn’t (Y/N), and I had trouble studying with (Y/N) because she was herself; I couldn’t concentrate on studying when she was near me.

I missed that feeling. I just wished I could relive these moments when she was so close to me, I could practically feel her warmth. Truth be told, I always attempted to flirt with her, to come closer, to see if she could feel our bond, but she always dismissed my attempts.

“How are you holding on, my boy?” I didn’t realize someone was standing behind me, so I was startled. I turned around to see Marcus, his constantly sad face replaced by a worried look. “I know that you feel lost right now, I can sense it.” I couldn’t open my mouth to reply, I just looked down at my feet.

“I know how you feel. I, too, have been feeling like this for a long time now; lost, desperate, unable to do anything. When I lost my Didyme, I basically lost my whole world, my mind, my heart, my will to live. I’ve been wandering this planet aimlessly. Without her, nothing in this world ever made sense to me; she was the one who gave meaning to everything. I joined Aro because of her, and after she was gone, I was trapped in his ambitious plans and was never able to escape him. He wants me alive to help him in his causes, but all I want is my Didyme back.”

Marcus never spoke of his and Didyme’s relationship to anyone - it just hurt him too much to remember her.

“I should have saved her. We shouldn’t have told anyone we wanted to leave the Volturi. Sometimes, I can’t help but think that it was Aro behind everything, behind her death, behind me getting trapped here. I cannot prove it though, and I also don’t even want to think that he could do something so evil, so abominable as to kill his own sister because she...we wouldn’t agree with his plans.” Marcus looked skeptical and desperate; saying all these things that he had buried deep inside him for so long must have been painful for him.

I couldn’t help but think what could happen if (Y/N) never actually recovered. I would never recover from it either. I have already created an “unofficial” plan - I would actually abandon Volterra forever, I would try to take my own life, and if that didn’t work, I already knew plenty of enemies the Volturi have made over the years. They would “take care” of me, and I wouldn’t resist - I wouldn’t have a reason to exist, a reason to fight for.

“When the time comes for her to wake up, don’t waste any time. Nothing would matter without her, so don’t waste any time away from her. You both wasted a lot of time, not admitting your feelings to each other. Better start now, before it’s too late.”

And with that, Marcus turned and ran out of the library, leaving me in my own thoughts. I had to see her, right now. Without really thinking about it, I ran out of the library and towards the dungeons. I saw Afton guarding her door, and I heard Chelsea and Carlisle inside her room. Her heartbeat was a bit stronger compared to a few months ago, but still weaker than her usual heartbeat, which used to echo in a castle full of vampires.

I went towards the door, but Afton stopped me. “She just had her last transfusion for the day. Let her rest. You shouldn’t be here anyway.”

“I have to see my mate. You all have been keeping me in the dark all this time. I HAVE TO SEE HER NOW!” I demanded and pushed the door open, Afton not being able to stop me. Chelsea and Carlisle turned towards me. “I have to see her. Please.” They looked at each other and nodded at me.

“We will leave you two alone. Just be careful and gentle. Her body is still weak and fragile, so no screams from now on, okay?” Carlisle acted like the father she never really had. I whispered a small “okay”, and Chelsea and Carlisle left the room quietly.

I was finally left alone with her. I haven’t seen her in over a month, since Carlisle came to Volterra, and I haven’t been alone with her once, since before she left Volterra. I actually missed her so much, seeing her, talking with her. She had a brilliant mind, the result of eons of studying and reading books. I couldn’t bear seeing her like that, comatose, emotionless, weak - she wasn’t the (Y/N) I knew. She was what her parents and Aro made her be - weak, helpless, a pawn to their plans. I wanted to talk to her, even if she couldn’t hear me.

“Hey, amore mio, it’s me, Felix.” My voice was trembling. “I came to see you, I missed you so much, Principessa (princess). I wish I could hold you in my arms right now, but I’m afraid I would break you. I wish you would wake up, I wish I could see your beautiful eyes again. I wish I had told you how much I love you, how I have been loving you all these centuries that I’ve been here.”

I paused a bit. “I wish I could tell you that all I remember from my human life is when you found me and brought me here and that all I ever think about is about you. I don’t want to lose you. I wasted too much time away from you. When I had so many chances to be with you, I was afraid, I was scared I was never good enough for you. You deserve better than me, you deserve the world. You are full of potential and I never wanted you to waste your life away with me. I wanted you to be happy and free because I love you. I would never think of restricting you, of forcing you to stay here with me, if that wasn’t what you wanted, so I let you go. I wanted you to see the world that fascinated you so much. I wanted you to experience everything. Even if that meant you were away from me; even if that meant you would never come back.”

I took an unnecessary breath. “I wish you would protect yourself first; I didn’t want you to sacrifice your life for me. You are too precious for me to lose you. And I’m afraid I may be too late, but..I wanted you to know that it’s always been you, everything I did was for you. It wasn’t Chelsea’s gift or my devotion to the Kings that kept me here. It was you, I wanted to be with you, stay with you, protect you. You gave meaning to my meaningless, cold life. You made me see life from a different perspective, you made me see that life it’s worth living and fighting for if I have you by my side. Please, come back to me.”

My eyes were stinking with venom at this point; (Y/N)’s heart beat a bit faster than before; her skin shined a bit more than before. I smiled at her peaceful figure before I captured her face within my palms. I leaned forwards and placed a tender and passionate kiss on her lips.

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(Y/N)’s POV:

I’ve felt like I’ve been living in the dark for quite some time now. I had no sense of where I was or how long I’ve been here - I stopped hearing voices, it was just the ultimate silence; a darkness I couldn’t see through, and a silence I couldn’t scream to. I didn’t even know how much time passed before I started hearing voices again. Was that Carlisle? And Chelsea? Chelsea actually stayed with me? After some time, I started feeling warmth and I could hear faint heartbeats, apart from my own.

Then, one day, Felix came to see me. I couldn’t see him or talk to him yet, but I could recognize him by his scent - to me, he always smelled like pinewood, sandalwood, cinnamon, and amber; his scent intoxicating and welcoming, it always gave me a sense of comfort and belonging.

He didn’t sit beside me on the bed. I could feel him standing beside the bed. His voice was trembling, though it sounded soft and caring. He told me all the things that I waited for centuries for him to say; to tell me that he loved me, just as I loved him all this time.

I felt something inside me break, something that kept me trapped here, and I felt my soul being lifted. I felt my heart beating faster, I felt like I could breathe, the weights that held me down being lifted off of me.

And then, he kissed me. It wasn’t like the small kiss he gave me last time; this kiss was full of passion and love, a kiss that could tell more than any word could ever do. I felt my soul reaching the surface, as I kissed him back, cupping his cheek with my hand. He stopped kissing me, and I opened my eyes, shedding tears that I kept inside for so long.

Felix was in shock, his face a few centimeters away from mine. I looked at him lovingly, as I stretched my hands to kiss him once again. He kissed me back, his hands settling on my waist, slowly lifting me off the bed and twirling me around, the bedsheets falling off of me. My heart beat faster than before, faster than it had ever had.

We were lost in our own world, his hands tightly hugging me, keeping me close to him. I finally was where my heart belonged. Our lips parted and I couldn’t stop staring deep into his black eyes, eyes full of love and lust. We stayed like this for a few minutes; Felix didn’t set me down just yet.

We heard the door open. There stood a shocked Demetri and an even more shocked Chelsea, followed by a shocked Jane and a shocked Alec. Felix finally set me down, and we turned to look at the four shocked vampires. I didn’t know it was possible for vampires to go into shock mode until I saw five in a span of a few minutes apart.

Chelsea was the first to come up to me and hug me tightly, followed by an even more enthusiastic Jane. Demetri and Alec waited for their turn and hugged me tightly, never letting me go. Thank Dia, I was partially a vampire, otherwise, they would literally crush my bones. Finally, they let me go but couldn’t keep their eyes off me, as if I would disappear in front of them if they didn’t. They pretty much couldn’t keep that thought off their minds.

“Guys, I’m not going anywhere. You can be sure about that.” I reassured each of them, smiling widely. “I understand you are all really concerned, but I'm okay now and I’m not going anywhere. I will not leave you.” I turned, looking up at Felix and smiling at him, him smiling back at me. I knew where my heart was now, and I would never let go of him.

#felix volturi #twilight imagine #felix volturi x reader #volturi #twilight #twilight renessaince #twilight post #demetri volturi #alec volturi #jane volturi #the cullens #the denali coven

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randomdcfangirl · 3 years

Text

Jason x Superman's daughter!reader

Request: Hi can i request a jason todd x reader where reader is a daughter of a hero and defends jason infront of the jl by @illzarr

(A/N): You didn't specify if you wanted them to be a couple or not but I made them one, hope that's okay :) Also I made it Superman's daughter.

Tags: @redhoodieone @avengerdragoness @comic-nerd-dc

Keys: (Y/N): Your Name (Y/S/N): Your Superhero Name

Word Count: 1,381

Warning(s): Cursing, arguing, mention of child abuse, talking about Jason's death, league may be a bit rude and ignorant when it comes to Red Hood, also a bit insensitive

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Being on The Watchtower wasn't something Jason liked doing, especially since he wasn't Robin anymore. As Robin it was fun and he liked it but after everything it wasn't a fun experience. Red Hood isn't seen as a hero in the hero community like he is down in Crime Alley. Moral codes got in the way of that.

How the hell Jason got (Y/N) Kent or (Y/S/N) he has no idea, no fucking clue. Why did Clark allow it you may ask? He did not, he doesn't know, good thing Jason carries Kryptonite around, he's not dying a second time to Superman.

Jason doesn't even really know why he was called to this mission, it wasn't hard and they wouldn't need backup so he was a bit on guard because of that. He was walking with his Nightwing, his brother of all people, to this meeting that Jason is pretty sure isn't a meeting. Jason's pretty sure he's getting set up but he was going with it for now, well somewhat.

"Wing, you need to tell me right now, am I getting set up?" Jason asked him.

"I'm not going to take you to get arrested, Hood. If I wanted that it would've happened a long time ago." Dick let out a laugh.

"Wow thanks, glad to know you don't want me in prison." Jason joked. "But actually, this isn't a mission is it?"

"To be honest, I wasn't told anything either. So I honestly don't know." Dick replied.

"Okay, now I know it's not a mission. They were prepared for me to ask questions so they didn't tell you anything." Jason sighed. "Guess I'm arguing with somebody today."

Dick shrugged and they continued on their way to the conference room. That conversation didn't give Jason any information at all. They arrived in the conference room a few minutes later and everyone was there, already waiting for them. There was a seat for Jason at the table between Diana and (Y/N), Jason cautiously walked up and sat in the chair while Dick walked around to sit next to Bruce and Clark.

"Now that we're all here we can get started. So, it's not really a mission." Superman said. Jason's suspicions were confirmed.

"I had a feeling, so why am I here?" Jason sighed.

"Think of this as sort of an intervention, Batman has no say in anything we've done and he cannot stop it." Diana said.

"Intervention for what?" Jason asked confused.

"Your actions as the Red Hood." Clark replied.

"If this is about killing I haven't killed anyone in the past year, bats already beat you to that "intervention" a while ago." Jason said with finger quotations.

"Not just the killing, there's a lot of younger heros that look up to you and you're too aggressive out in the field." Diana explained vaguely.

"But yes mostly the killing." Flash said.

"I didn't sign up to be a role model, that's not my fault. All I do is mind my business and do my job, I don't think that's a need for an intervention." Jason replied.

"Okay, let's talk to Jason instead of Red Hood, drop the persona." Superman said. "Clark to Jason."

"Sorry but Jason isn't any different, I think the person you're looking for died in a warehouse 8 years ago." Jason replied, Clark flinched a bit at that remark. "Just spit it the fuck out, why exactly am I here?"

"They don't like the way you act and work down in Gotham like they have any authority down there in the first place." (Y/N) said from her place next to Jason.

"(Y/N)." Clark warned.

"No, all you guys ever do when he's here is criticize like you have authority over him. Well guess fucking what, you don't. He's a grown man who can make his own decisions and you're not his family. Maybe you were considered so at one point but in my opinion you lost that privilege a long time ago!" She exclaimed to all of them.

"(Y/N) you don't hav-." Jason started but she cut him off standing out of her chair.

"No! I do! I'm sick of all of you trying to change who the Red Hood is! Just because he has a different moral code? Also did you know that he's never once killed an innocent person? Did you know Red Hood has only ever killed murderers, rapists, child molesters, because I don't know about you but those people don't deserve to be breathing in my opinion anyway." She said darkly then turned to Jason and talked softly. "They brought you up here because Joker is dead but they wanted to know if you did it or not. They wanted to see if they could make you say it without straight out asking you."

"He's dead? When? Who?" Jason asked quietly in shock.

"We were hoping you knew." Green Lantern said with a bit of sarcasm in his voice.

"If I was never stopped he would've been dead a long time ago. But no I didn't kill him, I wish I did but nope." Jason was keeping himself composed from the shock.

"Okay, he didn't kill him, like I told you many times. But you wanted to know how I knew so you know what I'll tell you. I was with him for the past 2 weeks every single night and day. He's my boyfriend and he's the most kind hearted, hard working, strongest and intelligent man I've ever met. I've never been treated with such respect and love so I'm not going to sit here and let you tear him a part in lectures anymore. He does too much good down in Crime Alley to deserve it." She said strongly to everyone in the room. Bruce sent her a nod because he's glad Jason has her.

"Oh really, what good has he done?" Green Arrow said.

"When was the last time you guys gave out food to street kids or an orphanage? How many of you guys help kids with homework or the kids who have to cover bruises on their arms or legs while at school? When was the last time you gave a sexual assault victim peace of mind knowing their attacker can't hurt them anymore? When was the last time you worked your asses off every single night to bring kidnapped children home from a trafficking ring? Probably never for most of you but Jason does it every single day while dealing with his own demons up in his mind because guess what he's gone through literal hell and back and that shit ain't easy!" She exclaimed more. "C'mon babe, you have no reason to be up here. Let's go home."

She grabbed his hand after they both stood up and they walked out of the room. They left everyone in the room including her father who didn't know what to think.

"That's three bats now somehow involved with my family." Clark sighed.

"It's not fun from my side either, Clark." Bruce replied standing up. "Also don't ever call a meeting to do with any of my children again. Especially not Jason, he deals with enough already and you have no authority over Gotham so your input on my city is not accepted. Leave my family and my city out of League business, this meeting is over."

Batman is scary but Batdad is scarier.

When Jason and (Y/N) got to his apartment they changed out of their gear and into sweats and comfy clothes.

"You didn't have to do that you know." Jason said wrapping his arms around her from behind while in their bedroom looking out the window.

"I did, I know you won't defend yourself with actual facts and would likely turn to anger to protect yourself so as your girlfriend I decided I'd take it upon myself to protect you the way you try to protect me, even though I'm Kryptonian." She replied. Jason huffed a laugh because he does do that even though she doesn't need it.

"I love you." Jason told her kissing the side of her head.

"I love you too." She replied and turned to give him a real kiss.

They'd deal with Superman later.

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

Hi, I haven't wrote is fic in a long time but here this is. I'm still doing the Jason x Bermudian!reader I'm sorry that's taking so long. But I love you guys and hopefully I'll be more active on here :) <3 (Also I couldn't think of a title lol)

#dc comics #jason todd #batman #dc #batfamily #red hood x reader #comics #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagine #red hood imagine #jason todd x Superman's daughter!reader

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arctic-comet · 3 years

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Osblaineweek2021, Day 2: Prose

I love book quotes. Looking at quotes is one of my favorite ways to to inspire myself to write more fic.

Here’s a small collection of book quotes (and recs!) of where I’ve “found” June and Nick.

This post contains spoilers for the following books/series:

- Lover Mine by JR Ward

- The Wrath and The Dawn duology by Renée Ahdieh

- A Court of Thorns and Roses series by Sarah J. Maas

Lover Mine by J.R. Ward

Summary:

John Matthew has come a long way since he was found living among humans, his vampire nature unknown to himself and to those around him. After he was taken in by the Brotherhood, no one could guess what his true history was- or his true identity. Indeed, the fallen Brother Darius has returned, but with a different face and a very different destiny. As a vicious personal vendetta takes John into the heart of the war, he will need to call up on both who he is now and who he once was in order to face off against evil incarnate. Xhex, a symphath assassin, has long steeled herself against the attraction between her and John Matthew. Having already lost one lover to madness, she will not allow the male of worth to fall prey to the darkness of her twisted life. When fate intervenes, however, the two discover that love, like destiny, is inevitable between soul mates.

It's basically a paranormal love story between two warriors. He's really young (although he's actually a reincarnation of a very old vampire warrior, but he doesn't know that), and she's like 300 years older than him. In this book, she's been raped and abused by a guy who also used to bully him. She escapes, but he saves her life. She's hungry for revenge and wants to die after achieving that goal, but of course eventually changes her mind. In the end he actually serves her rapist to her on a silver platter so that she can kill him (sound like anyone we know?). He literally holds the guy down while she kills him.

They're my ultimate favorite ship in this series, and IMO their relationship eventually develops into one of the strongest ones. This series is a bit of a hit-or-miss for most people, because the language and the writing style are pretty ridiculous in all seriousness. If you decide to read this, I recommend starting the series from the beginning because John and Xhex meet for the first time several books before this one, LOL.

Here are some of the quotes that make me think of Nick and June:

“Besides, the story of the two of them was written in the language of collision; they were ever crashing into each other and ricocheting away—only to find themselves pulled back into another impact.” ― J.R. Ward, Lover Mine

“As his ears rang and his heart broke for her, he stayed strong against the gale force she let loose. After all, there was a reason why here and hear were seperated by so little and sounded one like the other. Bearing witness to her, he heard her and was there for her because that was all you could do during a fall apart. But God, it pained him to see how she suffered.” ― J.R. Ward, Lover Mine

“...the only thing that had tethered her to the earth had been him and it was strange, but she felt welded to him on some core level now. He had seen her at her absolute worst, at her weakest and most insane, and he hadn't looked away. He hadn't judged and he hadn't been burned. It was as if in the heat of her meltdown they had melted together. This was more than emotion. It was a matter of soul.” ― J.R. Ward, Lover Mine

The Wrath and the Dawn duology by Renée Ahdieh

Summary:

One Life to One Dawn. In a land ruled by a murderous boy-king, each dawn brings heartache to a new family. Khalid, the eighteen-year-old Caliph of Khorasan, is a monster. Each night he takes a new bride only to have a silk cord wrapped around her throat come morning. When sixteen-year-old Shahrzad's dearest friend falls victim to Khalid, Shahrzad vows vengeance and volunteers to be his next bride. Shahrzad is determined not only to stay alive, but to end the caliph's reign of terror once and for all. Night after night, Shahrzad beguiles Khalid, weaving stories that enchant, ensuring her survival, though she knows each dawn could be her last. But something she never expected begins to happen: Khalid is nothing like what she'd imagined him to be. This monster is a boy with a tormented heart. Incredibly, Shahrzad finds herself falling in love. How is this possible? It's an unforgivable betrayal. Still, Shahrzad has come to understand all is not as it seems in this palace of marble and stone. She resolves to uncover whatever secrets lurk and, despite her love, be ready to take Khalid's life as retribution for the many lives he's stolen. Can their love survive this world of stories and secrets?

This is a young adult fantasy romance, and basically, Khalid is a lot like Nick. He’s made mistakes that he needs to own, but at the same time he’s forced to commit atrocities he doesn’t want to do. He hates himself and doesn’t believe himself to be worthy of love, and yet he falls in love with Shazi. He's viewed as the villain of the story by everyone aside from Shazi and a few other characters until almost the end of the 2nd book.

“I love you, a thousand times over. And I will never apologize for it.”

―Renee Ahdieh, The Wrath and the Dawn

“It’s a fitting punishment for a monster. to want something so much—to hold it in your arms — and know beyond a doubt you will never deserve it.”

― Renee Ahdieh, The Wrath and the Dawn

“When I was a boy, my mother would tell me that one of the best things in life is the knowledge that our story isn't over yet. Our story may have come to a close, but your story is still yet to be told.

Make it a story worthy of you”

― Renee Ahdieh, The Wrath and the Dawn

“In that moment of perfect balance, she understood. This peace? These worries silenced without effort? It was because they were two parts of a whole. He did not belong to her. And she did not belong to him. It was never about belonging to someone. It was about belonging together.”

― Renee Ahdieh, The Rose & the Dagger

“A boy who'd thrived in the shadows.

Now he had to live in the light.

To live . . . fiercely.

To fight for every breath.”

― Renee Ahdieh, The Rose & the Dagger

A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J. Maas

Summaries:

Book 1

Feyre's survival rests upon her ability to hunt and kill – the forest where she lives is a cold, bleak place in the long winter months. So when she spots a deer in the forest being pursued by a wolf, she cannot resist fighting it for the flesh. But to do so, she must kill the predator and killing something so precious comes at a price ... Dragged to a magical kingdom for the murder of a faerie, Feyre discovers that her captor, his face obscured by a jewelled mask, is hiding far more than his piercing green eyes would suggest. Feyre's presence at the court is closely guarded, and as she begins to learn why, her feelings for him turn from hostility to passion and the faerie lands become an even more dangerous place. Feyre must fight to break an ancient curse, or she will lose him forever.

Book 2

Feyre survived Amarantha's clutches to return to the Spring Court—but at a steep cost. Though she now has the powers of the High Fae, her heart remains human, and it can't forget the terrible deeds she performed to save Tamlin's people. Nor has Feyre forgotten her bargain with Rhysand, High Lord of the feared Night Court. As Feyre navigates its dark web of politics, passion, and dazzling power, a greater evil looms—and she might be key to stopping it. But only if she can harness her harrowing gifts, heal her fractured soul, and decide how she wishes to shape her future—and the future of a world cleaved in two. With more than a million copies sold of her beloved Throne of Glass series, Sarah J. Maas's masterful storytelling brings this second book in her seductive and action-packed series to new heights.

Fantasy romance with explicit sex scenes, and book 2 is a lot better than book 1. Our main character Feyre falls for a really boring fae guy, but also meets the hottest guy she’s ever known. The first guy of course isn't the real love interest (this is a twist this author loves to do). They all end up as prisoners, and the 2nd guy saves her life when the 1st one is totally useless. He also makes her hate him as he does it because he has to. After getting out, she tries to make her old relationship work, but it doesn’t, and guess who swoops in?

I do see some Nick in Rhysand (in addition to his role in the love triangle). They’re both traumatized and prefer to keep a lot of their feelings to themselves. I also see some of the same selflessness in both of them. Rhysand wants Feyre to choose him because she loves him, but he’s willing to accept that she may not, and doesn’t tell her that they’re pretty much destined to be together (it’s a supernatural thing, and he will suffer a lot if she decides she doesn’t want him).

“Everything I love has always had a tendency to be taken from me.”

―Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses

“It took me a long while to realize that Rhysand, whether he knew it or not, had effectively kept me from shattering completely.”

― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses

“Regardless of his motives or his methods, Rhysand was keeping me alive. And had done so even before I set foot Under the Mountain.”

― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses

“Because," he went on, his eyes locked with mine, "I didn't want you to fight alone. Or die alone."

― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses

“He thinks he'll be remembered as the villain in the story. But I forgot to tell him that the villain is usually the person who locks up the maiden and throws away the key. He was the one who let me out.”

― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“And I wondered if love was too weak a word for what he felt, what he’d done for me. For what I felt for him.”

― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“I was his and he was mine, and we were the beginning and middle and end. We were a song that had been sung from the very first ember of light in the world.”

― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

#osblaineweek2021 #osblaine #the handmaid’s tale #nick x june

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stellaryusdb · 3 years

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I Do Love You

— a JiSolB FanFic by stellaryusdb; spin-off to Let Me Love You

Seo Jiho’s POV

"Prosecutor Seo, good evening!" Said a known prosecutor that remains unknown to me. I forced a smile while shaking his hand. I wonder what it'd look like.

I am so tired of this. I am currently in a party and surrounded by big names in the field - lawyers, prosecutors, judges. There are also corrupt politicians whom I've questioned in the court, as well as egotistic businessmen I sent to jail but ended up abusing their power to get out of it. It makes me sick that I was invited to this party. I should be at home, preparing for my case for next week's hearing. I blame Bokgi for dragging me into this hellhole.

It's suffocating. It felt as if I had to swallow a big lump in my throat as I interacted with the people in here. Not until my eyes darted onto someone whom I know, and I am sure as heck feels the same way.

Kang Sol, my archenemy. It’s been years. A lot has changed since we celebrated the results of our bar exam. More specifically, when my other enemy, Joonhwi-hyung, confessed to her on the school grounds. I watched as we drifted apart.

I remember how I trembled in fear when he was nearby, enjoying the cheers in our circle. I remember how panic consumed my all. I remember feeling the cold air lingering on my face, heat travelling through different parts of my body. I remember how my shoulders went down in fatigue. I remember how I was defeated, even without fighting a single battle in this war. So I ran away.

I fell in love and I have been loving this archenemy of mine since forever. Well, I just realized it in law school. Back then, I always tell her how much I despise her but joke's on me because it's always been the other way around. Now, someone's in love with her. I've always thought that I am not worthy so I took a step back and gave in for my other enemy-turned-pal in law school.

I remember seeking comfort from Sol A-noona's reaction as we both watched them from afar. She forced a smile I could not return. I just... can't. And ever since then, I started to distance myself from the squad. I ran away even if I had no one to go to. I rarely attend our monthly catch-ups, always making up excuses. I also prohibited myself from getting too close to Sol B. I kept reminding myself, "Joonhwi-hyung likes her, I can’t…” In the end, I suffered the repercussions of longing for her.

I was hurt but then it's also my fault. I did not shoot my shot. I had three years to do it but didn't. Damn it, it's still so frustrating!

But now she's here, elegantly marching her way into the hall. Her hair slightly curled at its tips, reaching a bit beyond shoulder's length, like the one she's had in middle school. Eyes as mesmerizing as the stars in the sky. I hoped she looked at mine, praying that we'd form constellations. She's also wearing a white dress that perfectly matches her skin tone. Tied are its straps as they clung onto her shoulders. She's gorgeous, as always. It was as if the angels had given up their kind to bless the world with her beauty.

Was she looking for someone? I was kind of hoping that it'd be me but...

She halted when she caught my stare. Those piercing eyes that I was used to sent shivers down my spine.

Heck, I am nervous! What do I do? I'm trying to avert her gaze because I might give into it. Should I confess? No. Hyung. Should I—

"Jiho." She called out my name. I was so distracted in trying to look busy that I didn't notice she's already in front of me.

I swallowed all my fears and anxieties before looking her in the eyes as I fixed my glasses.

"Sol."

She's looking at me and I cannot breathe properly. Years later, I just found myself gawking at the person who's captured my heart. My legs felt like jelly as we exchange gazes.

Static noise filled the room, then the speaker announced, "Greetings, everyone! As it is already midnight, I am inviting you all here, in the main hall, to dance waltz with the person on your 12 o'clock..." What a good timing!

I tried to excuse myself, "I'll just go there," then sprinting my way out, turning my back on her. I needed a sign.

"Jiho." Was that my cue?

My feet had its own mind because the next thing I know is that I am coming back to where I was a while ago, and where she is at the moment. Should I ask her to dance with me? Will it be too awkward? I wanted to but I just don't know how to do it. Everything's just so unexpected.

I exhaled a surrendering sigh because of what I am about to do. Ok. Here goes nothing.

"Do you know how to dance?" Stupid question.

"No," She replied.

Oh.

"But I'll go with you." I was stunned. I had to gulp once again.

Shaking and hesitating, I asked for her hand which she immediately gave and the next thing I know is that she's pulling me, leading me towards the dance floor. I guess this night has a lot more to unfold.

We are in the middle of the hall, just below the chandelier. People around us are swaying their bodies as if they really are enjoying this. Hypocrites.

I was caught off guard when she moved closer to me. And now our faces are only inches apart. She's also an inch taller than me as she's wearing heels. I hope they don't hurt her feet for too long.

Her eyes fell on the floor. Is she maybe waiting for me to initiate our dance? Whatever, I'll do it anyway. I am already here and I am not wasting this opportunity.

I took her hand that was on the side of her thigh while I maintained my eye in contact with hers, asking for permission. Now I got her attention. I was rewarded by a small smile that our squad rarely sees. I put it on my shoulder, followed by the other one. She was just watching me as I brave myself in doing whatever this is. After that, she held my hands at the same time and put them on her waist. Then, she rested hers on my shoulders.

My heart is racing, louder than the ballad that surrounds the hall. Does she hear it? She'll never know anyway.

Her lips start to form a smile as she looks into my eyes, then avoids them, then goes back to them. She looked over our feet. It's adorable, it's like she's about to blurt out a joke but...oh. I bet she's making fun of our height difference. I scoffed at the thought. She just never lets me live. But I don't mind at all.

She looked at me with eyes full of malice and said, “You should see the view from up here." No way.

"That hurt." I said while raising my eyebrow at her.

Her face fell into a frown. "I was just teasing you." Well, so do I.

My smirk has turned into a grin. And when I realized it, I faked a cough. What is this feeling in my stomach?

Our bodies emerge into "dancing". Our footsteps complement each other as we watch them. This is very foreign to me. I hope she doesn't mind.

This moment was the least of what I expected in this very hour. I have pictured myself sitting in a corner, alone at the table, watching the people around me as I keep a keen eye to those I might be facing in court. My plan has been ironed out: I'll just stay for the food and leave after an hour or so. This party is pathetic anyway. But then she showed up and now she's here, in my arms.

In my arms. That felt like cloud nine. I just want her here, with me. But then, I started to doubt and question everything that's happening. My hands are on her waist, hers now around my neck, and everyone else is blurred in the background. It's just us. But what is this?

The thought of hyung just appeared in my mind again.

I remember it very clearly during that night. When she took the flowers from Joonhwi-hyung, her eyes shot up to mine which I instantaneously averted. She can't see me. She should not. I didn’t want her to see me shatter. We were each others' anchors and I must not sink further. I do love her but I am not sure if she feels the same. And I am too afraid to ask. Now that hyung has made the move, what is left of me to do is to just go. To let go.

We were swaying when I started to keep my eyes from landing at hers. I feel uneasy but at the same time, I want to stay. I want to be with her. I want to make this night last.

But still, I shouldn't be the one in his place. I am just so...terrified. I don't know. I... I have to stop this before it gets out of hand.

She halted our waltz, perhaps feeling the sudden change in my atmosphere. When I tried to meet her eyes with mine, they were screaming a hint of betrayal, or was I just seeing things?

She excused herself. I ruined it.

I sat on my seat to contemplate on what just happened. I feel the need to follow her and explain why my mood changed. But then, she'll know what I truly feel for her. And I promised myself that I will bury that secret with me to the ground. I can't. Joonhwi-hyung...

But is it so wrong to confess right now? I am not even asking for her to reciprocate it. It's just that I have to let it go so that I can finally move on with my life. I cannot stay in this unrequited zone forever. I have a life too. Will it be so selfish?

I just found myself following her trail, rushing my way out to go to where she was. When I got there, I paused for a while to catch my breath. She was looking over the city, scattered are the flashing lights before her eyes. She turned around to see me, with a glass of champagne in one hand. It was as if she was waiting for too long.

The familiar cold wind started to linger on my face again as I jogged to get close to her. Her arms are resting on the railing and when I arrived a few meters away from her, she looked away to go back to what she was doing before I came.

I just looked at her. Just a few more minutes, I beg.

I also leaned onto the railing as the steel touches my skin. I looked over the city lights in Seoul. Cold, busy, intimidating, lonely. It’s like I can relate to it, like it’s foreshadowing a fleeting feeling before I let go and set myself free. I needed to breathe before I let off everything I've kept for years.

"I returned the flowers to Joonhwi-oppa." She broke the deafening silence.

My brows furrowed at her words.

Then she looked at me and said, "It's not my favorite," before drinking the champagne until its very last drop. She put it on the table when it was already empty.

A flashback came to mind when we stopped by a florist's place. She was accompanying me as I bought flowers for my late father. I saw her staring at the lilacs that are beautifully arranged on the shelf.

"Do you want one?" I asked.

I saw how her eyes panicked before saying, "What? No." Then, she hurriedly went outside.

She's not into sunflowers. I could have told Joonhwi-hyung that but let me be selfish for a while. Let me have this little secret with her.

And right now, she's staring at me as I wait for my words to arrive. I was just completely left in awe. I do not know... I— I cannot understand.

"You did not see it because you left right when you saw me inside his car," she continued, then paused for a while. "I returned it from there. I did not want him to feel embarrassed in front of our friends."

I do not know if I am just seeing things but I noticed that waters started to form in her eyes. And when they aligned with mine, it was as if we were forming reflections. What is this? Sol...

"I was about to go to yours because I thought that I had a place there. You brought me here with you, but suddenly, you were so eager to leave. I had no choice but to ride a cab to get to your apartment, hoping that I'd find you there and that you'd keep your promise to go to my house. We were going to prepare for my case the following day just as what we had talked about."

I remember all those, too, how I hurriedly started my car and rushed my way out of that disheartening situation. I was drowning in my own pain that I forgot to look after her.

The waters in her eyes came rushing like a waterfall but her face remained stoic and heartless. It was as if the heavens had fallen upon me. I want to close our distance, to hold her if I were given a chance.

"We were going to pull an all-nighter which I have been looking forward to. When I arrived at your place, you weren't there. I tried to call you but you shut your doors on me. And it's been years, Jiho." She put emphasis on the last sentence while gritting her teeth which really, really tugged my heart, making me realize how much of a fool I was.

I took a few steps closer to her. I want her to feel my proximity, of how sorry I am. I just want to shelter her all my life.

"Why do you keep on running away?" she paused to take a deep breath before asking, "Do you hate me that much?" Now she started to sob. I can't. I— it's too much. A pang in my chest has been surging in all of me. I can't...

"Because Jiho, it's you. I know you despise me with all of you. But for me, it's always been you. I wanted you to take the flowers from Joonhwi-oppa and tell it to his face that it should have been lilacs. I wanted you to drag me out of the school grounds as I am willing to follow wherever you may go. I want you to study with me, to counter all my arguments, to let me help you with all your cases, and to bring comfort in my life just by the means of your proximity. But you were gone for so long..." The weight of her gaze has had me looking for the strength that is left in me.

Her expression starts to soften as she continues, "Now, just in case...If ever...if ever you're done hiding," she paused as her lips started to quiver. Tell me, I beg.

"If you're through with running away please tell me, if ever...if ever you feel the same way. At least I'll know where I stand and I won't be blindingly looking for your clues anymore."

The sounds of her sniffing have been etched in the atmosphere. The waters in her eyes just would not stop from falling. I want to go near her, wipe them away and shower her with reassurance that I never got to tell her. She's crying but she's still as beautiful as ever. And I want everything about her. I want to cross our gaps but will she let me do so?

She heavily sighed before looking back at the cities beneath us while wiping her tears away.

I hope it's not too late to redeem myself.

"Sol," I called her. My voice is trembling in fear. The only force that I am holding onto at this moment is the fact that she has these feelings for me. Heck, she feels something for me! Heavens, I have been waiting for this.

But then I hurt her. I betrayed her. I left her, when in fact, there is an unsaid vow to the both of us that we will be each other's constant. And I took it for granted.

"I'm sorry," I moved an inch closer to her to get her attention.

"I'm so sorry..." I felt a tear landing on my face.

She shook her head as if she wanted to tell me how disappointed she was at me. So am I. So am I. And I hated myself for being a coward all this time.

I crossed another inch closer and asked, "Can I hold you?"

She looked at me, pearls still lounging in her eyes.

"I've been patiently waiting for you, Jiho."

First, I held her by the waist before pulling her onto my chest while she rested her chin on my shoulder. Good thing that our heads are side by side and she couldn't see me bawl my eyes out as my waters start to race on my face. I'm safe and sound now.

Finally.

"I'm sorry, Sol. I am so sorry." I cupped her face and started to catch the tears that wouldn't stop falling. Her eyes are red and pained. Her lips form a pout. Gods! I love this woman.

She did the same thing to me. It's the littlest things that she does that put me to my place, to constantly look out for her. Then eventually, falling for her.

I wrapped my arms around her waist to pull her closer. Then, I leaned my forehead against hers and closed my eyes. I felt that our noses touched. I took a peek at her eyes and caught that she was also peeking at mine. I smiled again. I closed my eyes, thankful for all the sinners and saints for this moment. So at peace. So contented.

After some time, I leaned away from her forehead which earned me a questioning look on her face.

I cupped her face again before saying, "I do feel the same way. I love you, Sol."

She started sobbing, but this time, I know she's glad at what she's heard. She's crying and suppressing a smile all at once. And she looked gorgeous while doing it.

"No more running away please."

I gave her a reassuring nod before uttering, "No more."

We fell into the comfort of each other's presence without the words that bound us together and we had settled on that borderline. But at this very moment, everything just made more sense. The collateral damage we'd done in the past cannot be undone, but at least we can move forward. And I know that I can heal from it, with her by my side.

She, too, cupped my face and wiped the waters off of it, her eyes full of stars.

"We've lost years, Jiho." She realized.

"And we have a lifetime to make up for them." I replied.

She stopped what she was doing and blinked her eyes a little. "Did you just ask for my hand in marriage?"

"What? No." I teasingly copied her remark.

She tried glaring at me but I had a glimpse of a ghost of smile on her lips. I was trying not to smile too but she's just so adorable.

"Not yet. We are just starting." She used her voice that she applies whenever she counters my argument.

I playfully nodded. "Whenever you're ready."

Her eyes widened as her cheeks started to heat up. She buried her face on my neck as her arms were wrapped around my shoulder. I feel like a teenager going through puberty with everything that she's making me feel at the moment.

She faced me to say, "Jiho, this is the part where you kiss me," before allowing her eyes to drop at my lips. When she realized what she just said, her eyes started to wander.

I blinked at what she just declared. Well, I wanted to... but how? This is my first time doing this.

My throat went dry and I immediately licked my lips as I looked at hers. I inched my face closer to hers, still clueless of what I am doing, before pressing my lips onto hers and parting away from it real fast. Did I do it right?

Right after that, she stole a peck from my lips, copying what I’d done. I blinked and I felt heat rushing up my face. Again, I tried to brave myself and copied what she just did. I stole a kiss, then came another. I can do that, too! When I leaned in again, she caught my head to stop me from teasing her and to lock my lips with hers.

It was thorough and passionate. It was oasis after hundreds of years of push and pull. It was victorious, because at last, she's here with me, underneath the countless constellations in the sky. We were able to fathom our stars and satellites.

Her hand is on my hair as my arms are snaked around her waist. We were pulling our bodies together as if the spaces won't ever be enough. I titled my head to get a better access to her lips.

When I started to feel that the temperature had been shooting up, I let go of her lips while I caught my breath. She, then again, mirrors my movements.

I watched her licked her lips as they turned red. In awe at her gestures, I put my tongue to the side of my mouth to stop myself from grinning. This elating sensation drives me crazy just as what she does to me.

From her waist, my hand went onto hers, interlocking it with mine. I looked her in the eye to say, “Let’s get out of here.”

This time, I’m running away with her.

She grinned while never losing eye contact with me.

This time, I led us into our venture as we walked out from everybody and everything else.

She pulled my hand which made me glance at her direction. “I love you too, Jiho.”

Slowly, my lips curve into a smile. She, on the other hand, tries to conceal hers but her lips just betrayed her. She doesn’t have to hide. My arms are always open to her.

I watched our hands clasped together as they suspended themselves in the air, between our sides. I glanced at her and she immediately did the same to me. I renewed the grip of my hands onto hers. Close enough to embrace, but far enough to breathe. Gone are the cold nights, at last.

As we walk, we’ve had a mini debate as to whose house we will crash into. But then a brilliant idea popped up, as if I found a loophole to a corrupt politician’s not-so-solid alibi. I just couldn’t contain this euphoria. I think I’m going to explode.

I turned to her. “Let’s get the lilacs I owe you.”

#law school fanfic #jtbc law school #seo ji ho #kang sol b #jisolb #jisolb fanfic

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