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yorshie · 6 months

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Burnt Out

Bayverse Leo x Fem reader - Part 3

Part 1 Part 2 AFTERWARDS

summary: SFW, After confessing your feelings for the Leader in Blue, he makes a decision that challenges your relationship with all four turtles. (warnings for relationship based arguments, yelling, and an altercation with some drunken men) set in 2023 so turtles are 24-25

This is the Final Part guys! Thank you for reading!

tag list: @jackalope-in-a-storm @tmnt-tychou @nessarolla-in-constant-flux @whygz @thievingflames @autumn3l3ctr0swings @srgtjamesbarnes @eeveetrevelyan @thejudiciousneurotic @tinyghost666 @nerdsciencetheories

Raph waited until you were on the rooftops before he turned his head slowly, peering down at where you were curled up in one arm like a football.

“You wanna tell me why you decided to pick a fight with Fearless?” He sounded amused, and for a moment you could almost imagine it was commonplace, you and Leo butting heads, as if it wasn’t words you often found yourself posing towards the turtle whose arms you were in.

You bonked your head back against his shoulder, huffing out a near silent plea for him to drop it. When Raph did little beyond raising an eye ridge in question however, you groaned.

“I wasn’t the one picking a fight.” You insisted mulishly, and he outright laughed, the bark of a noise loud in the cold night air.

“Oh, princess, I may not have seen the beginning, but I know who started that fight, and it wasn’t Leo.” He hopped over the edge of one roof to land easily on another, and your stomach swooped at the rush of air before jarring back to solid ground.

The use of his nickname had you puttering out a sigh between your lips, hanging a leg over his arm to kick lazily as he walked.

“Ok.” You admitted, finally, quietly. “Maybe I did pick the fight, but he deserved it.”

“I’m sure he did.” Raph huffed, hand tightening for half a beat as he vaulted across another opening. “But you still haven’t told me why you picked it?”

You threw up your hands, waiting for the anger to bubble up in your chest. When it only gave a weak pop, however, your hands clenched, and they slowly dropped down into your lap. You traced the edge of your finger over the opposite’s knuckle, debating.

“He was-” you looked up again, to find Raph listening still, and blew out a breath, “He was doing that thing where he talks at you, not to you.”

Raph hummed, and you continued, “But mostly, it was because he started acting all… normal again.”

“Thought normal was a good thing?” Raph questioned, and you frowned, face scrunching up in mild offense.

You couldn’t exactly tell your best friend that his brother’s normal for you was borderline soft.

Raph must have seen the face, however, because he snorted in amusement. “Don’t give me that look. You’re the one that went and fell for Honor Boy. It ain’t like he hides what he is.”

You rolled your eyes, annoyed he was right and smug about it, knocking your temple into the edge of his plastron. “Thanks Red. Good talk.”

You felt the silent chuckle that rolled through him, and frowned, wondering…

“Hey Raph?” When he grunted for you to continue, you took a deep breath. “Why are you fighting with Leo?”

Raph was silent, and for a long moment you thought he wouldn’t answer. Then, almost like he didn’t want to, he said, “Cuz he’s a fucking idiot, and he’s ruinin’ shit for the rest of us.”

You blinked in shock at the guttural anger in his tone, face stretching to take the information in, and said without thinking, “like ‘he doesn’t know how lucky he is’ sort of ‘ruining shit’?”

Raph pulled to a stop hard enough that you were wrenched forward, other leg slipping over his arm before he flexed and your forward motion halted.

He was glaring at you now, and you had the decency to let your gaze slide away from his, arms straining to right yourself somewhat.

“Trying out your own version of being a ninja, huh?” He quipped, anger flattening his tone, and you hiked your shoulders in a little circular motion, hands gripping the edges of your coat together.

“Sorry.” You finally whispered. “I didn’t go out of my way, but yea… I eavesdropped. A bit.”

“A bit.” He repeated, shaking his head hard, mask tails fluttering. He resumed walking, letting you both sulk in silence until he was hopping up onto the patio outside your living room window, all but dropping you out of his hold before he sighed roughly.

“Listen.”

You looked up at him, feeling small in his shadow as he blocked out the light. He rolled his jaw, clenching one side then the other, before the tension traveled downwards to his arms and they tightened into fists, the leather of his gloves creaking.

“I ain’t… told anyone. This.” Raph continued, head dipping to look to the side, and your brows raised in curiosity, all but biting your tongue to stay silent as he talked.

“Fearless ain’t… he’s not the only one…” Raph met your eyes, looking like he would rather take a leap off the side of the building than admit what he was about to.

You nodded, for him to continue, and he took a deep breath.

“I got… someone. A girl,” he looked down at his hands, at the fists he’d unconsciously formed, and flexed his fingers to shake out the gesture, “I’ve been going to see her once n’ a while after patrols.”

You let out the breath you’d been holding, all at once relieved and angry that he’d been keeping that a secret.

Raph openly scoffed at whatever chased across your face. “Oh, that’s rich. Sorry to burst your bubble, sweetheart, but this ain’t some sorta love triangle. You’re cute, but you ain’t that cute.”

“And you’re my brother.” You answered him, effectively shutting him up with the claim, watching him blink in surprise before a blush turned his cheeks muddled in the moonlight. “But damn, Raph. You got a girl?” You gave him a smile. “What’s she like?”

It was like a switch had flipped and he turned bashful, that little soft smile that you only got to see when he had lowered his guard shifting through. “Ah… she’s…” He paused, and that smile dimmed a little, turned melancholy. “She’s perfect.”

You gave him a moment, silently tucking away a reminder to tease him about how twitterpaited he looked later, before you purposefully clicked a button on your coat, and his gaze pulled up towards you again. “S’why… I’ve been so fed up with Leo.”

“Cuz you got a perfect girl?” You didn’t see the connection. You leaned back against your window, made yourself comfortable as Raph scoffed hard at your question.

“Cuz he’s the leader.” Raph lingered on that last word, lips curling back until you could just make out the shine of his canine. “He’s the one that’s suppose to have his shit together, and he can’t even get with the girl that’s all but throwing herself at him-” He paused, considering your defensive posture at his inadvertent rib. “No offense, shorty.”

“A lot taken.” You grumbled, but moved to sit on the little step in front of your window, sensing he was on a roll. “But continue.”

But Raph was silent for another long beat, eyeing the side of the building where the worn brick butted up against the facade. “How can I bring a girl around?” He asked the wall, the railing, the pitiful potted plant you’d accidentally left out during a cold night, before his eyes found the curl of your arms over your knees, and he gestured to himself, his knuckles nicking his plastron dully, “if not even Leo thinks he can?”

You swallowed your words at that, conceding his point, before you reached out, touched his arm in consolation with the tips of your cold fingers. “Hey.”

He looked up at you, head tilted to the side, and you gave him a smile. “Get outta here. Go see your girl. Tell her I said hi, and that I can’t wait to meet her.”

Raph huffed, burying his softness. The smirk on his face was back to his sharp as knives glint of teeth. “You gonna be ok?”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll just pine away without you to keep me company.” He looked a little unsure at that, but you rolled your eyes, pushed as hard as you could against the swell of his bicep. “Go, shell brain. I wanna go to bed sometime tonight.”

Raph finally returned your humor, standing to his full height and returning your shove, albeit a bit softer. “Sure thing, princess. Just-” he blinked down at you, considering. “Text me, or call, I don’t care which, but ya been through a lot tonight.”

“I’ll call you if I have a panic attack.” You promised, knowing just how serious he took that matter. “I promise.”

“Good.” Raph bobbed his head towards you, turning for the railing. “In that case, try not to let ole’ Fearless get your panties in a twist, kay?”

“I wish.” You quipped, just to make his grip slip on the railing, and you got to see his face screw up in disgust right before he went over the edge.

You leaned over the railing, chuckling at the way he extended his second finger towards you before he flipped over the other side of the building, and disappeared.

Off to see his girl. The thought of Raph being sugar sweet to a human seemed a little unbelievable, but you silently hoped for him. For them.

You sighed, loudly, letting your forehead thud against the railing. Mentally cataloging your next steps. Eat, shower, try to get some sleep. Hope you didn’t have a nightmare and you’d be able to let Raph have his own precious down time.

It would be a losing battle, but you finally pushed off the railing, heading for the warmth inside your living room.

You lingered in the shower, counting tiles on the back wall until your shoulders felt loose and your toes and fingers tingled with the steamed warmth. You didn’t quite dry off completely before putting on the soft jersey cotton set you’d left out on the sink, the slightly too big clothes a double barrier against the chill and the quiet way your living area echoed back your movements.

With a rough sigh, you turned off the overhead lights, walking slowly through the room to your bedroom through memory and the faint light of the lamp beside your bed.

Your feet slowed next to the window where you had said goodbye to Raph not even an hour earlier, stopping just shy of your faint shadow crossing the curtains. Something itched at the back of your mind, a little insistence that had you reaching out and tugging the fabric back with a sharp movement.

Sixth sense stuck gold once more. Leo crouched on the other side, eyes wide as he flicked a glance from the street below to meet your careful gaze.

Your lips thinned, gripping the fabric hard, almost tempted to simply let the curtain fall back into place and continue on as if you’d never seen him. But he looked so surprised at being caught, all but drinking you in in a sweep that warmed the part of you that always liked when his attention turned your way.

He moved before you could contemplate the action fully however, arms bunching as he jerked the window open in a swift roll of muscle that made you wonder why you even bothered locking the thing in the first place.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, quietly surprised that the question came out soft and not sharp like the words you threw at him earlier. You’d missed this, finding Leo at your window, and you blamed that for the reason you took a step back to allow him room to move, to lean his upper body into the warmth of your home.

His shoulders rested against either side of the window’s wooden frame, his head angled downwards to where his hands were curled over the ledge. “I wanted to speak with you.” Blue eyes flicked upwards, towards you. “Properly. Like I should have… the first time.”

You weren’t sure what he meant by that, but you only gestured towards your darkened living room. As he shifted through your window carefully, you moved to turn the smaller lights in the kitchen area on, not wanting the harsh overhead light to strip whatever softness there was away, not wanting to be reminded of what the last time he wanted to talk was like.

Leo swayed at the edge of the warm light, blinking softly, eyes trailing around as if taking in the differences since the last time he had visited.

There wasn’t any, not that you could see. But Leo still paused over little things, curious, or stalling, and you decided to let him have his thoughts, let him organize them to his liking. It was… difficult, him being back in your space, but you missed him, the instinctual anger you’d worn like armor earlier all but washed away in your long shower.

You crossed your arms across your stomach, leaning backwards against the kitchen counter, and the movement drew his attention, snout swinging around to regard you.

“I followed you and Raph.” He started, and you simply hummed, a little part of you knowing he would, if his talk with Splinter was short enough. He took a deep breath, his plastron swelling, and continued on the exhale. “And though I had planned to come to you as soon as he left, he wasn’t heading home. So I followed him.”

Your tongue clicked in your suddenly dry mouth, eyes roving over him once more, looking for blood or the obvious signs of a fight. Raph wouldn’t have taken kindly to his brother shadowing him if he managed to catch him in the act, and while Leo was the best at moving unseen, you couldn’t help but think about their earlier fighting, and the bombshell secret Raph was keeping.

If he noticed, Leo didn’t mention it directly. “He didn’t see me.” He took a step towards you, hands curling around the back of one of the barstools circling the kitchen island, eyes firmly on the dark metal under his grip. “I… didn’t expect what I saw, but I’m also not really surprised.”

You wanted to ask what he saw, but didn’t want to admit you knew anything about his brother he didn’t. Leo glanced up, and your gaze skittered away, fixated on the back of your couch to hide the way you were watching his hands.

“She seemed nice.” He whispered, and you realized he assumed Raph had told you, or had been close enough to listen to the two of you talk on your balcony. “Raph looked… happy.” He swallowed audibly, and the sound brought your eyes back to him, to the edge of his chest where you dimly realized he had removed the camera that usually clipped over his harness.

“But… that’s not what I came here to talk about.”

“What did you come here to talk about?” You parroted back to him, finally lifting your head, the tightness in your throat drowning out everything except for the space he occupied. “You were outside my window long enough to figure out your speech, I bet.”

You used to tease him about the way he took his time, parsed over his words. But that was before, and though your voice was still soft, even you heard the barbed comment for what it was.

Leo stuttered, licked his lip, and you watched his throat bob, the shadow of his jaw stark in the light behind you. “Actually… I’m winging it. Nothing… nothing sounded right.”

That was new, and you must have stuttered as well, because he gripped the barstool’s back until the metal creaked, and he hurriedly let go like it burned him. “Sorry.”

That word, in his low voice, hitched your breath, and he must have heard, because his eyes were on you once more, wide and blue and soft. “I am. I’m so sorry. If I could go back in time and kick the shell out of myself, I would.”

You looked upwards, towards the popcorn ceiling, blinking fast to keep the sudden itch in the corners of your eyes back. “Leo.” You swallowed, unstuck your tongue from the roof of your mouth. “Why… why now?”

You didn’t look, but you could hear the self deprecating huff he gave at the question. “I thought… it was better-” you felt a tear track down the side of your face, but couldn’t look, “-thought, it didn’t matter what I wanted. That I had no right to… to want you to be mine.” The last word came out so quietly you almost didn’t hear it, just the soft thunk thunk of Leo bunting his palm over the metal repeatedly before he continued. “I mean, the danger it’d put you-” He broke off, and another tear slid down the same cheek when you blinked.

“I… told you that last time.” You weren’t sure if he was reminding you, or himself, but he shifted in place, and you realized you had no idea what his face looked like, staring at the way the shadows chased themselves across the ceiling of your home. “I told you a lot of things last time we talked. If I could take them back, I would.”

“I don’t understand what you’re getting at.” You whispered, and he made some low sound of frustration, at himself or at you, you weren’t sure, but you didn’t have the energy to be offended.

“I’m asking for your forgiveness.” He stated plainly, somehow sure with that sentence where he’d been visibly feeling out the others. “Whatever it takes, I’ll do it. I’m just tired of feeling like… like I ripped out a hole in my chest.”

It felt like he was ripping into your chest. You breathed in carefully to keep back the sniffle, feeling the ache grow under your sternum. You wondered where your anger had gone, were it was hiding inside your stomach, but the only thing to well up was a bone deep tiredness. Leo was asking-

Leo’s hands were cool, cupped around your upper arms, his elbows locked as he held himself at a polite distance. You hadn’t heard him move, and the sudden touch was a little jarring, but you kept your head tipped up, eyes sealing shut when you felt his breath on your chin.

“I’m sorry.” You found the words. “I’m sorry for picking a fight earlier. For pushing you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.” Leo answered, palms sliding back and forth between your elbows and your shoulders when you didn’t push him away. “I’m sorry for running away.”

It felt… good. His touch. It’d been so long since he’d gotten this close, between ignoring you or you refusing him the chance. But still, a little hollow of disquiet gnawed at your ribs, chipping at the bone. “What are you asking for, Leo?”

“Whatever you’ll give me.” He leaned back minutely and reached up slowly, wiped away the salty track running across your cheek. “Whatever you want. If it’s only your friendship, I’ll count myself lucky, but…”

You didn’t move out of his grip, and he stalled there, thumb pressing against your cheekbone as he thought.

You finally opened your eyes, fresh tears trailing out, and found him closer than you expected. His iris’s reflected back the little chips of light from behind your shoulders, the blue darker with emotion. This close, you could see the thoughts flickering in his eyes, follow his pupil as he tracked each one in consideration.

“If you wanted more,” he breathed out, and you felt the warmth of his breath against your eyelids. “I’d take it with both hands and run.”

That pulled a snort of laughter from you, a bubble of amusement. “Only you could make running sound romantic, Leo.”

He gave that low chuckle you loved, eyes cutting down to where you still hadn’t moved his grip off your arm, and you felt more than saw the steadying breath he took at the edge of your space. “I don’t want to be afraid, anymore.” His hand moved, curled around your arm, thumb pressing into skin until he could feel the way your muscles twitched at his touch. “I don’t want to push you away.”

His words burned themselves across the back of your eyelids, and your breath hitched. Fearless, afraid. It was a foreign concept, fear and Leonardo existing in the same place. But you could feel the slight tremor in his hands, the way his careful breaths fell sharp and quiet over your shoulder. He was holding himself tightly, nervous energy bleeding out into his limbs the longer you stayed silent, unmoving, undecided.

You bridged the gap he kept between you slowly, hands curling around the edge of his plastron under his arms, shivering as his hand at your arm curled heavily around to press against your spine, his fingers pressing firm. Your head tucked into the hollow of his throat, eyes shut, feeling his pulse jump at the way your lashes tickled his skin. “You’ll have to carry me with you, Blue. I can’t run fast as you.” You whispered, and his chest rumbled under your own, beak curving over your head to hold you close.

“No more…” You trailed off, ran your fingers up his side a little higher to get a better grip. “No more deciding things about us, by yourself though, kay?”

“Us.” His tongue clicked heavily on the word, and you let him settle, let him get used to the way the word was no doubt bouncing around his skull. “There’s- sometimes-”

“If you said to duck, I would without thought.” You assured him, knowing immediately where his plan for every outcome mind was going. “I mean non-ninja things, Leo.”

He nodded against your head, the back and forth motion soothing, and you let yourself settle finally, slotting completely against him.

It was his turn for his breath to catch. “I’m not….” You felt his tongue peek out, the slight dampness touching your temple before he spoke. “I’m not human.”

You snorted into his neck. “You know…. Somehow I noticed.”

Leo pulled you impossibly closer, the deep breath against your hair reading slight annoyance at your joke. “I mean… I have a pretty good idea, of how humans go about relationships, but…”

“Blue.” You whispered. He cut off abruptly, and you realized your lips had grazed his skin. “I don’t care what other relationships have, or don’t have. We’ll figure it out, together.”

The arm not curving along your spine cupped the back of your head, moving through the strands of your hair. “You forgive me?”

“Yes.” You breathed, fondness rearing up at his stubborn streak, and you turned your head the little bit needed to free your mouth. “So long as you give me a good first kiss.”

He breathed out a little heavier at your words. “Not… sure I’ll be good at that, to be honest.” His fingers found a cord of tight muscle to the side of your spine, pressed firm against the knot and slid back up. “Not really a lot of practice partners in the sewers.”

The corner of his lip was right there, and you took a chance, rose up on tip toes to press your mouth against his own.

His reaction was slow blooming, face slack long enough for you to pull back and start to drop back to your feet. His arm tightened across your back instantaneously to hold you in place, his head canting to follow you with a nudge that was almost to strong, and you made some small sound at the way his snout smooshed your nose before his mouth covered your own.

His chest rumbled under you, the warmth and vibration a little heady with how tightly Leo had you pressed against him. It went no further than a strong press of lips, your bottom one pushed into your teeth with how far he was tipping your head back, but it caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

He pulled back whiplash fast, mouth opening to gasp like a fish, and you couldn’t help it, you laughed at the look of confusion on his face, as if his body had done something without his permission.

“That wasn’t… a good first kiss, was it?” His voice said he already knew the answer, but you raised your hands, untangled them from where he’d pinned them under his limbs, and cupped the sides of his jaw.

“Weeeeelllll…” You drew out the word before biting your lip, just to make him roll his eyes, but then you gave him a soft smile, thumbs petting across the bottom edge of his mask. “They say practice makes perfect, and lucky for you, you just found a partner to practice with.”

Leo squeezed you, just tight enough to make you squeal, before he bunted his head against your own, this time softly enough that you didn’t wince.

#tmnt #tmnt bayverse #tmnt bayverse fanfic #tmnt leonardo #bayverse leonardo #bayverse leonardo x reader #bayverse leo x reader #bayverse leonardo x fem reader #bayverse leo x fem reader

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theflyingfeeling · 1 month

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well said, Niko 👏

so I went to exit my emotions in Germany last weekend, details below:

we went to the shows in Berlin & Leipzig, with a VIP experience for the latter

and guyyyyyyyyssss let me tell you, BC really did not lie when they said we were there to Exit our Emotions 😩 the shows went straight to the very top of my personal BC shows list, the energy was amazing and all the new songs sounded incredible live, even the ones that weren't necessarily my #1 favourites, like Where's the Exit and Wolves in California. Especially the former sounds sooooooooooooooo good live 💖

and because I was there mainly to enjoy myself and to exit the fuck out of my stupid useless emotions, I barely took any videos or pictures (I never take pictures anyway, how do y'all manage to take such amazing shots at shows?!) despite having relatively good spots to do so. I kinda wish I had more so I could think back to the shows afterwards, but on the other hand I felt like I got way more out of the show when I put my undivided focus on it, and besides indoor shows are always challenging on that regard due to the flashing lights etc. and I felt like every time I was going to film the lighting was not appropriate so in the end I just couldn't bother 😅

I don't really have much else to report from Berlin other than that the venue was great, I had an excellent view and had the best time ever 🥰

not least because I met so many BC tumblr friends!! it was so nice seeing everyone, please come to the Nokia Arena show y'all, we'll be your host it's hocus pocus 🥺

and then there was Leipzig 🥴

I mean, this is my initial reaction immediately after it (written in my drafts):

🙈🙈🙈🙈🙈🙈🙈

but yeah, as you can see from this post, @exitemotions and I had bought some silly little gifts to give the guys (rock hand glass markers not pictured), and we were so incredibly chill about the whole thing, like, NO ONE has ever been as chill as we were in advance of the VIP experience, I'm tellin' ya 💅

(we were so chill in fact that when we came back to the hotel room afterwards, we noticed we had forgotten the ceiling light on. you know, because that's how chill and zen and calm we had been upon leaving for the venue 💅💅💅💅💅)

the acoustic set was fucking cute, almost like a little campfire hangout 🥺

about giving the gifts and having our pictures taken: I feel like I was working on some kind of autopilot and can barely remember much anything 🙃 which I'm kinda mad at myself about lol, but I guess the guys liked the gifts (Olli said the glass markers were important, as my foreword for them was that they'd no longer have to fight about which glass/cup was whose, and I remember Tommi saying that socks are always useful. the others are owners of feet as well, so I suppose they agree 🧦)

we had made all sorts of grand plans for our individual pictures with the band but ended up with having "regular" ones after all, because while there was no feeling of rush per se at the m&g, everything was still happening relatively fast and sort of in their own course, and if we had wanted to do any funny poses or whatever, we should've been faster and in a little...sharper mental state to ask for them 😂😭

but we were chill though, I promise 💅

(I'm just cringing at myself so hard because I look like a fucking teacher standing for a class photograph 😂💀 it's funnier if you know I'm actually a teacher lol)

during the show we were on 2-3 row because we kinda missed our cue to run and reserve our spots before the acoustic set. personally I blame Santeri the tour manager for this (and also the fact that there were so many people there who had already been to VIP on this tour before, so they knew what to do 🤷‍♀️ meanwhile we were just left standing like "...wat 🧍‍♂️")

the show was just as great as the Berlin one, I honestly can't put them in order because they were both amazing and really made me forget about my sad little life 🖤

Rock Band From Hell was also alright. the one with no shirt on was hot

Ghost Kid was cool too. the one with no shirt on was hot

...so hot in fact that I already fell in love with him at the Berlin gig, and so when we were on our way to the merch booth after the Leipzig show, we ran into him and I flirted chatted with him a bit and had my picture taken with him 🥰 he was soooooo sweet and funny and I hope he'll stay true to his promise and keep the thing I said to him ('the drummer of BC could never [swirl the drumstick in his fingers in between every beat like you do]') "just between you and me" 🤭

from the merch booth I bought the XOXO longsleeve which looks super nice (sadly the quality isn't as super though dfgdgdsdh)

the next day it was time to return home, and as @kraeuterhexchen was seeing me to my platform at the railway station, I broke into tears in the middle of an escalator and didn't stop crying until boarding my plane lol

it's just that I was really nervous about travelling back to the airport from Leipzig because I had two changes of trains and the horror stories I've heard of Deutsche Bahn always being late were only adding to it, and that stress somehow triggered some sort of emotional meltdown in me and I realised the trip that I had been waiting for 6 MONTHS was now ending?? there had been so much talk about how we'd "do this and that when we go to Berlin/Leipzig and see BC" and now it's all done and gone and ?????? how does one move on after that 😭

but mostly I've been crying about the gift I gave to Olli 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

some of you have already heard about this, but I had made Olli this pin cushion ring:

...because I wanted to "support his sewing hobby", as I told him then sdhfhdfhfhfh

he seemed to really appreciate it, and as I demonstrated how handy it was (because you can wear it and easily put the pins there while sewing instead of having to reach to a pin cushion further away on the table), he told me he only had this huge pin cushion ("a brick" he called it, the one you can see on this video), and aaaahhhhh I'M SO ANGRY AT MYSELF for not remembering much else or barely daring to even look at him to see his reaction 😭 I do remember he got very excited when he heard he was getting a sewing-related gift though ("yessss" he said, if my memory doesn't fail me too bad) 🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

and I'm so sad I didn't even get a picture of him with it, because Joona the photographer was in the possession of my phone at that moment 😔 and I also forgot to tell him I had made it myself, though I believe it's self-evident. but, you know. still 😭

and the reason why I've been so emotional about it is because I had made the ring weeks ago already, shortly after the album release event, and since then I have admired it every day (because hellooooo is it not the cutest?!) and I had imagined all the scenarios in which I'd give it to him, what I'd say about it and how he'd react to it (I wondered if he'd even know what it was, but of course he immediately recognized it as a pin cushion when I showed it to him 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭), and yesterday it just suddenly hit me that when I'd be back home, the ring would no longer be there on my table for me to admire and hold in my hands, because Olli has it now? it's OLLI'S now, as intented, and yeah idk why but even now, two days later, I'm still literally crying about it as I'm writing this because I had grown strangely attached to that silly trinket and now I'll probably never see it again 🥺😭 (I guess I should just make one for myself too lol, my old one that I made almost 17 years ago is a wee bit shabby)

anyway, if anyone sees him, can you please tell him to take good care of it 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

the world's biggest thanks to everyone who I hung out with on this trip, but especially to @kraeuterhexchen whose stunning art I can now admire in calendar form on my kitchen wall every month of the year (yes I shall keep you updated):

...and to @another-sun the organizer extraordinaire, as well as to my travelling companion @exitemotions (thanks for all the laughs with a touch of chaos in between <3)

here's me with BC again, the only other picture that's not blurry af lol

in conclusion, 🎵 never again, never again 🎵

...until next time 👀

#gig reports by theflyingfeeling #was that even my tag idk #sorry for cutting that video short but i wanted to exit emotions 👋#and sorry to disappoint anyone with whom i talked about that fun pose idea for my individual picture with the band 🙈#but olli was already pocketing the thing (because i gave it to him (because he was reaching his hand towards it))#so i was like welp there goes my chance ig #and i felt i had already wasted enough of their time lol (with all the other gifts + having pics taken together with @exitemotions)

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hajihiko · 2 years

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Ok first off I love you and your opinions are 100% valid BUT I've been thinking for a while and I disagree about hajime and nagito clashing once Nagito wakes up. And this isn't a shipping thing I just want them to be friends. They had some sort of vibe in chapter 1 enough for Hajime to feel betrayed by Nagito's "oops-I'm-crazy" reveal, but even after that Hajime always just wanted to understand Nagito. And yes then chapter 4 happened and Nagito was an ass to everyone especially Hajime, but in the anime they seem like friends now?? Hajime was the only one there when he woke up and Nagito recognized he was Hajime and not Izuru immediately. They even ate on the boat together. Nagito definitely needs to change some of his mindsets thru therapy but the anime made me sad for him, the guy has no friends and he wants to be friends with kaz and fuyu and the others, he just needs help getting there. And he says weird stuff and can be creepy but Hajime accepts every other quirky person on the island so..? Idk I would love your thoughts :)

Ok so a while ago I talked about how I can imagine Nagito either, a) would resent Hajime for choosing his Just A Guy self over Izuru, or b) idolize him (like he idolizes all the Ultimates, but more) for nonetheless being The Ultimate Superguy. I'm not 100% on either, just figured those would be the two most likely scenarios. I also think both would not sit well with Hajime who now has a bit of a complex identity that he might not fully get himself, and having it sorta put in the spotlight all the time might be uncomfy.

I also sort of do-and-dont consider the anime, since I liked a bunch of things about it but some felt rushed, so I think of that ending as like .... thematically accurate but not necessarily how it went down? And I guess that includes the Nagito OVA. Like, thematically yes, Nagito is gonna be friendly with everyone now and it's reinstated how Hajime is himself (including Izuru) and they come a full circle with mimicking each other's poses from the start of the game; thematically YES very good. But i think it kinda happens too easily?

Tbh I just kinda think it's more boring if they're both immediately totally cool with one another, and I think they're more interesting when they clash and make each other think about things differently. Same with like, Mikan and Hiyoko, I don't buy that they're just immediately chill around each other after All That. That's not as satisfying as them having to work on themselves and the relationship. Like, with Nagito specifically digging at Hajime's insecurities and singling him out like he did, causing Chiaki's death (which he had a good reason for but it obviously hurt for Hajime especially), and just generally how Nagito was treated through a lot of the game (badly), and his views on Social Hierarchy being super challenged by Hajime even existing... having them just end as being wordlessly ok with it all is anticlimactic imo.

So like, whenever I talk about post-wakeup dynamics, in my mind I'm kind of thinking they had at LEAST a year together before the scene in the anime where everyone's awake and healthy and working together.

#Also going by some of the side games where it kinda seems like their personalities don't super mesh-#-BUT are very interesting together and kinda. Hint a a lot of growth if they try and do it well #I want them to DEVELOP #I hope any of that made sense #Not an art #Talky talky Tuesday #Also not super related but I wanna see how Nagito might fee about losing time to being in a coma #Since he doesnt have a lot of it.

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tonarinotogepi · 3 years

Text

Treasure

Summary: Steve helps you regain your memories.

Pairing: Pre-Serum Dragon! Steve x Female Reader

Warnings: Soft dark, Allusions to kidnapping & stalking, monster fucking, manipulative behavior, gaslighting, memory loss, dub/non-con (due to the manipulative behavior) smut, fingering, praise kink, size kink

Word Count: 1kish

Author’s Note: My submission for @slothspaghettiwrites’s Monster Mayhem Challenge! My prompt was: Take a look in the mirror / And what do you see / Do you see it clearer / Or are you deceived - Human by Rag n Bone Man. Thanks so much Sloth for hosting this fun challenge!! I hope you enjoy!!

Imagine dragons (not the band) are 2-4 feet taller than humans on average in their demi-human shift, and Steve is ‘small’ by those standards, meaning he’s more like 1/2 ft taller than humans. I wanted to try and make the size kink as inclusive as possible, so take your height and and 1/2 ft to it and that’s how tall our darling pre-serum Steve is.

It was a lovely summer day. You turned your face towards the sun, trying to absorb as much vitamin D as possible before he noticed you were out here. As if he could read your mind, a pair of arms wrapped around you.

“It’s dangerous out here.” Steve whispered, pressing a kiss on your cheek.

You let him pick you up, his thin arms deceptively strong as he carried you back into his den, his tail swishing anxiously.

“I’m sorry Steve…it’s just...the sun feels so good...”

“I know, treasure. And last time you almost got snatched by those hydra goons” Steve replied, giving you a quick peck as he continued down into his lair.

So Steve kept telling you. A few weeks ago you had woken up in Steve’s den, body covered in bandages and no memories. He had an answer for all of your questions, how your family had rejected you when they found out and you had moved in with Steve, but nothing about the cave felt human.

The pots and pans all looked new. The dresser full of fancy evening gowns and little else. It had taken Steve showing you the dozens of drawings he had done of you to prove you were lovers, some of the poses far too intimate for a friend to have drawn of you.

All you knew for certain was that Steve had been nothing but kind and loving, caring for your wounds and patiently nursing you back to health.

And when you had finally broken down, the frustration and guilt of not remembering Steve and your life together overflowing, he simply said:

“I guess I’ll have to make you fall for me all over again.”

And he had, his determination and confidence in your relationship soothing away your fears and opening your heart back up him.

Maybe this was the fresh start you had needed. Maybe it would be easier to never remember your cruel family that had forced you to choose between them and Steve.

“I had a moment of inspiration when I was reorganizing my hoard. Will you let me draw you?” He asked, his bright eyes darkening as he looked down at you.

This was the first time he had asked for you to pose for him since the attack. You smiled and nodded, a small flutter of excitement coursing through you. You knew that look.

“My good girl.” He praised before spreading his wings, quickly flying the pair of you to the deepest, coldest part of his den that held his hoard.

Despite the cold, it was always a marvel to see. Piles of coins, precious gems, and other expensive items filled the cavern, all meticulously sorted and arranged to Steve’s liking. You were gently laid down on a large pile of gold coins, with a sketchpad laying close by.

“Comfy?” He asked as you shifted around, trying to somehow find a comfy spot, coins tinkling as you pushed them around.

“It’s slightly better than a pile of rocks…” You trailed off as Steve started tugging off your clothes.

“Why didn’t I think of this sooner…” He muttered to himself, pushing you back down onto the bed of coins as he settled himself between your legs. “My prized jewel, surrounded by my hoard…”

You hadn’t heard Steve, as your words triggered a rush of images and sounds...

A pile of rocks...a Steve’s roar...your mother screaming as she got smaller and smaller...flying...

Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt a rough, wet tongue lick a stripe over your mound, eliciting a gasp from you.

“There you are…” He smiled, parting your folds.

You laid back with a sigh, the flashback forgotten, your legs spreading wider to give your dragon better access to your cunt.

Your efforts were rewarded as you felt a talon push inside you as Steve’s talented tongue began to massage your clit, your moans guiding him as you ran your hands through his soft hair and scaly skin.

You whined as you felt a third talon push its way inside you, the stretch uncomfortably familiar.

“Human bodies are amazing… no matter how often I fuck this little pussy, it still stays just as tight as the first night I had you…” He praised, pushing and scissoring his fingers roughly.

He continued working you over, patiently stretching and licking your cunt until your slick started to squelch around his talons as you started to beg for him to let you cum.

“Go ahead and cum, treasure.” he told you, his ministrations never stopping as you crested over the edge, cumming with a thin wail.

You let out a small whimper when you felt his fingers retreat, knowing what was about to replace them was even thicker. Steve shushed you as he positioned himself over you, sliding his cock over your clit before slowly pushing himself inside.

Your pained sob was silenced by Steve’s mouth as he drowned out your cries with deep kisses, his hips pushing until he was fully seated inside you.

He broke the kiss and drank in the sight of you.

“Look at you, precious. Taking me so well.”

He shifted as you felt his cock push against your cervix with a low moan.

“A perfect fit…’s like you were made for me…” He admired, before sitting up to grab a handful of jewelry from a box.

He took a sapphire pendant out and ran it around your body, the cool gem sending a shiver throughout your body.

He grinned when he ran the cut gem over your clit, your pussy squeezing down on him in response before placing the gem around neck.

“Perfect… just a few more and we’ll be ready…”

Next was a ruby ring, diamond earrings, a handful of pearls he scattered in your hair, and finally an emerald bracelet.

Standing in a field on your family’s farm… an emerald bracelet in your hand...

“You look absolutely stunning. Stuffed full of me, covered in stones…” He ran one of his talons lightly down your body and over the bulge in your stomach before picking up his sketchpad.

“Now, just stay just like that, my treasure…”

... a dragon’s shadow falling over you...

~~~

Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think!!

#toge writes #Steve Rogers x female reader #monster reads #dark reads #SlothsMMMWritingChallenge #dark! steve rogers #dark! Steve Rogers x Reader

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smash-64 · 2 years

Text

2021 Game of the Year Countdown #1: A Hat in Time By: Gears for Breakfast Nintendo Switch, 2019

The best peckin’ 3D platformer I’ve ever played.

I was only vaguely aware of this game, thanks to @boner-taunt’s wife playing it when we were all roommates, and @doktorpeace praising it extensively, but I never looked into it on my own back then. I’ve been playing a ton of RPGs over the past few years, so I was looking for a good platformer and thought I should try this one. The developers describe it as a collectathon akin to Banjo-Kazooie, and I have to disagree to a certain extent. That is actually an aspect of the old N64 platformers by Rare that I really disliked. There are definitely items to look for in A Hat in Time, but I always felt that the Rare games made item collection time consuming to expand the game’s playtime at best, or boring and pointless at worst. A Hat in Time never feels this way.

The smooth gameplay is fun and easy to pick up. It’s as simple as Super Mario 64 and I think that is what made it such a fast favorite. It really is an easy game to play, which can be deceiving for how difficult some of the later levels, and especially the DLC challenges, can be. But that is what makes a game great: when it can be played and enjoyed by all skill levels.

The music is so bright and cheerful, but can also have heart-racing beats as well. One of my all-time favorite boss battles comes against an enemy known as Snatcher, with a song called “Your Contract has Expired.” It really pumps you up for what is a really fun, exciting, and visually impressive boss fight.

Other tracks, like “Train Rush,” will cause your anxiety to overflow, even if you’re just listening at work or something. Maybe don’t listen to this while driving. And another favorite is “Mafia Town Is Asleep” because of how charming and soft it sounds.

In addition to the fun gameplay and great music, you get a beautiful and colorful game. The characters are fun and vibrant, with big personalities and cute designs. There are so many jokes and references hidden throughout, I couldn’t even try to list them all here. But I will say I love the movie posters in one of the levels you play, as well as how Hat Kid has various idle poses throughout the game. She holds up her thumb and finger like she’s 007 when you sneak into a movie studio at night (another great track btw), and snaps to attention like a good little sailor when you’re helping the captain of a cruise ship. The little things like that, which have no bearing on the gameplay or anything, really show how much care the developers put into this.

Also, check out the fake movie poster you can get from one of the levels!!

While I already talked about the music, I have to really break down a part of the final boss fight because it is an amazing piece. The track is called “You Are All Bad Guys,” but I’d like to highlight a few specific parts. At the start of the track (timestamp here), it starts out very frantic as the boss unleashes a ton of attacks that you can barely avoid, and the high energy and tempo is really exciting. But, my favorite part of the track comes a bit later, at 3:02. I find a lot of symbolism in this part of the song, as a solo piano comes to the forefront and plays the melody of the battle tune. It’s immediately followed by a synthesizer playing the same tune, as a sort of musical response. Then, they both play together as a sign of unity. This reflects some of the things going on in the final battle, and I find it really beautiful, as cheesy as that sounds. I hope you can play the game for yourself and hear it as it’s meant to be.

So go try A Hat in Time. It’s my favorite 3D platformer of all time and the best game I played in 2021.

#a hat in time #gears for breakfast #2021 #game of the year #countdown #hat kid

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oikawaplssteponme · 3 years

Text

sweet creature

pairing: Hajime Iwaizumi x fem! reader

warnings: swearing, a little bit suggestive

genre: fluff, childhood friends to lovers, soulmates (?)

word count: ~2k

synopsis: Tying the tie between you and him took longer than it should have.

a/n: hi hi! here is some well over due fluff for you all!! this isn’t directly based off of the song ‘sweet creature’ but i felt it fit the vibes and since the song makes a little appearance ;) [ also shoutout to the anon who wanted some iwaizumi fluff <3 ] reblogs are greatly appreciated! enjoy xx

Looking back at it all, you never expected things to turn out the way they did. You never expected to find yourself in love with him. It was cliche, cheesy even. Everyone around you saw it before you did, saying you two were soulmates. In reality you were just clueless kids, unable to see that the universe had put you together perfectly. You needed him, no matter what form of him. He was your best friend after all, and a platonic soulmate was still good enough in your eyes.

But no, you were destined for something more.

Iwaizumi Hajime and you were two peas in a pod. From elementary school to now, you and him were inseparable. Scraping your knees together, attending everyone of his volleyball matches, you were always by each other’s side. It was no wonder why people assumed you were dating. Iwaizumi’s face would flush pink every time, insisting that the two of you were just really close friends. You would whisper in agreement, every time.

Was it wrong of you to want to be more?

It was the last week of high school, graduation just days away. You were over at Iwaizumi’s house as usual. You laid on his bed as he rummaged through his closet.

“Did you figure out what you are wearing for graduation?” he asked. You looked up from your phone.

“I think just a dress? I have two to pick from that I bought,” you explained.

“Okay, what colors are they?”

“One is blue and the other is white. Why?”

“I thought I could match my tie to your dress,” he said. Your eyes widened.

“Oh, o-okay.”

Iwaizumi grabbed a few button downs from his closet and laid them down on his bed, followed by the ties he owned.

“Help me pick.” You moved to the edge of the bed, scanning the clothes.

“I like the blue tie with the light grey shirt. You’d look like a waiter if you wore the black shirt and white tie,” you chuckled. Hajime huffed.

“Alright alright.”

Iwa grabbed his t-shirt and pulled it over his head. Your eyes darted to the floor.

“Uh what are you doing?”

“I’m gonna try it on dummy. I have to make sure it actually looks good,” he laughed. You looked back up at him. His perfectly chiseled figure standing before you as he tried to button up the shirt. You prayed that he couldn’t see that you were terribly flustered.

“These damn ties…” Iwaizumi groaned as he attempted to tie it. You chuckled.

“Come here.”

You hopped off the bed and stood close to Iwa, helping fix his tie.

“What are you gonna do when you go to college and I’m not gonna be there to tie your ties?” you smiled.

“I’ll call you and force you to come over and tie it for me.”

“I’ve been tying your ties since we were kids. I thought you would’ve learned by now.”

“Why would I bother learning when you can do it for me?” he teased. You chuckled.

“There, perfect.” You flatted the tie down, smiling.

“Thanks Y/N.”

You tilted your head back up, locking eyes with Hajime. You could stare into his eyes for hours, no issue. He chuckled.

“What are you staring at, huh?” Your face grew hot and you turned back around.

“Nothing…”

As the night drew on, you found yourself back at your place. Even though Iwa was just a house away, you wished you were still with him. You peaked out your window, hoping to see Iwa looking out of his. His curtains were open but the lights were off. You assumed that he was with Oikawa.

You looked at the calendar pinned to your wall. Two days of high school left. It was a strange feeling. The mix of anticipation and nervousness all into one. You were excited for summer. Day in and day out you could be spending time with Iwaizumi, just like every summer before. Of course, you’d much rather spend summer with him a little differently, but you knew that was unlikely.

You heard the familiar buzz of your cell phone, as the ringtone began to play. Your face lit up, as you recognized the noise. Only one person in your phone had this ringtone.

“Hello?”

“Window-”

The call ended quickly. You smiled, rushing to your window and opening it up.

“HI Y/N!” shouted Oikawa. You chuckled.

“How was studying?” you asked. Iwa sighed.

“This idiot barely finished his chemistry. He was busy blabbing about his graduation party.”

“I expect you to be there Y/N!”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. It’s this Saturday right?”

“Yeah, I didn’t want to have mine on the same day as yours and Iwa-chan’s,” explained Oikawa.

“Good choice,” teased Hajime. You and Iwa decided to do a small party for graduation together. Just family and close friends.

“Hey show me your dress,” insisted Iwaizumi. You grinned, heading to your closet and picking it out. Due to Iwaizumi’s blue tie, you decided to go with the blue dress.

“Woah there Y/N, you’re gonna take Iwa-chan’s breath away-”

“SHUT IT SHIT HEAD-,” Iwa smacked Oikawa upside the head, “don’t you have to go home?”

Oikawa checked his watch, before scrambling to get his things.

“Shit my mom’s gonna kill me- BYE!”

You chuckled, looking back at Iwaizumi. He cleared his throat.

“You’re gonna look beautiful Y/N.”

You tried to hold back your smile, but the heat rising in your face made it nearly impossible.

“Thank you.”

“I mean, you always are beautiful, but that dress might just set a new record for you,” he smirked. You pressed your lips together.

“Iwa…”

“Well we should both get some sleep,” he said. You nodded.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“Goodnight Y/N.”

“Goodnight Hajime.”

You closed your window, then your curtains. You placed your dress back on a hanger, before plopping onto your bed. You felt all giddy inside, like a little kid. The butterflies in your stomach could fill an entire room. Did he mean those words in a ‘best friend’ sort of way? He had to, right? In all honesty you didn’t care about the context. After all, he still said it. Your smile was the same regardless.

“Smile you two!”

Iwaizumi’s mother had been taking pictures for the last thirty minutes, and you were honestly getting a little exhausted from posing.

“Mom that's enough-”

“One more! Hajime, stand behind Y/N.”

Iwa sighed. He did as he was told, moving behind you. He placed his large hands onto your waist, hugging you from behind. You tried not to react, still smiling at the camera.

“Okay okay now look at each other.”

You looked at Iwa, staring into those deep dark eyes. His face was so close to yours, you could smell the mint he had earlier.

“I’m sorry about this,” he mumbled. You giggled.

“It's okay.”

“Alright I got all the pictures I need.”

You keep looking at him, but more relaxed. Iwa didn’t move a muscle, as if he didn’t wish to let go of you. You weren’t sure if it was your imagination or not, but you swore that Iwa looked as if he was leaning in to-

“ALRIGHTY LETS GO! Grad party time!” cheered Oikawa. You and Iwa broke away from each other. You cupped your burning face as he cleared his throat.

“Y-Yeah lets go.”

You all headed to the Iwaizumi residence. There, you opened graduation gifts, jokes with friends, and even reminisced a bit on yours and Hajime’s childhood.

“I remember when you would make me catch bugs with you all the time! I hated doing that,” you joked.

“Okay but I always let the bugs go, didn’t I?”

“Aw Iwa-chan can’t hurt a fly-”

“But I can hurt you-”

“WAIT-”

You watched as Iwa and Oikawa fought as if they were kids before going to grab something to drink.

The night escalated to Toru finding the old karaoke machine and challenging Makki to a sing-off (which he declined). You sat on the couch with Iwa as the commotion in the room elevated.

“Do you want to go upstairs?” he asked you. You let out a sigh of relief and nodded.

Hajime opened the door to his room, allowing you inside. He shut it, helping to keep things quieter.

“Wait a minute-”

You rushed over to the corner of his room.

“You can play the guitar?”

You picked up the instrument and examined it carefully. The guitar didn’t look new. In fact, it had to be a few years old.

Iwa took the guitar from your hands, holding it to his chest as his face grew in color.

“I-I can’t really play…”

“I have known you my entire life yet I never knew you had a guitar. Guess I’m a pretty shitty friend.”

“No not at all. I just- I don’t tell people that I can play…” he mumbled. You smiled, taking a step towards him.

“Could you play something for me? I won’t tell.”

Iwa looked at you, his eyes widened. He swallowed harshly.

“Of course.”

The two of you sat down on his bed. Hajime began to tune the guitar, his hands a little shaky. You placed your hand on his cheek. He looked at you intently.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I kinda put you on the spot there…”

“No I want to...I have a song in mind that I’ve been meaning to play for you.”

You smiled, nodding. You took your hand away, placing it back in your lap. Iwa took a deep breath, before carefullying picking at the strings.

He played a calming melody, one that you’ve heard before. Your heart melted the minute you realized what song he played.

“Sweet creature...had another talk about where it's going wrong…”

His voice was low and quiet, yet smooth and soft. You tried to hold back a smile and a few tears.

“I know when we started, just two hearts in one home…”

He sang to you. He was playing for you. Pleading that you understood what he was trying to say. Everyone fights, everyone has disagreements, it’s normal in every relationship. It was as if the letters of the lyrics were rearranged to say: “lets just try”.

You two would be leaving for university soon, that was inevitable. However, Iwaizumi never felt happier than when he was by your side.

“When I run out of road, you bring me home.”

Hajime played the final cord, before falling silent.

“Haj-”

“I know how to tie my ties. I just say I don’t so that you’ll do it for me. So that you’ll stand a little closer to me. So that I can smell the same perfume that you’ve worn since middle school. So that I can look into your eyes, and see the world within them. I’ve known how to tie my own ties since I was eight years old, but that's also the same age that I realized that I was in love with you.”

You couldn't seem to find the words. Your mouth hung open a bit, causing Iwa to get even more nervous. He set the guitar down on the floor, before burying his hands in his face.

“God I’m such an idiot-”

You took Iwaizumi’s hands and moved them from his face.

“Look Y/N I-”

He was unable to finish his sentence, as you had crashed your lips into his. His eyes were wide before he shut them tightly, cupping your face and kissing you hungrily. You wrapped your arms around his neck, running your fingers through is dark hair. Iwa couldn’t seem to get enough, bringing you impossibly closer to him as he deepened the kiss.

“Hajime…” you whispered, catching your breath. Iwa placed another peck on your lips.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

You were shaking, the familiar sensation of nervousness and anticipation rushed through your veins. Iwaizumi took your hand, placing a kiss on top of it.

“I love you.”

Looking back at it all, you should’ve known it was bound to happen. Maybe it was the fear of rejection that blinded you from the truth. Maybe you had to hear that it might not always be easy in order to realize that it was still worth it. It certainly was worth the risk. Love is the strongest adhesive, keeping people together no matter distance, disagreements, or destiny. Luck for you and Hajime, your destiny was the one you had always hoped for.

[general taglist: @lealofsblog @iwaisa @bakugousmymassa @evivn1 @bokutory @vangoghmusings @moonlightaangel @misszenin @marajillana @sopesmin @alaina-rose13 @shotoful @katlingclaw ]

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demonsigh · 3 years

Text

the vampire hunter

rating: orange/pg pairing: male vampire x male human features: drunken antics, in vino veritas, enemies to lovers warnings: blood, throwing up length: 2434 words

A very hungry vampire takes care of a very drunk vampire hunter. Based on this prompt submitted to @monsterkinkmeme

There were many undeniable perks that came with being a vampire, and several of them lent themselves well to scholarly pursuits. Ellis had an infallible memory for names, dates, and quotations. He had excellent night vision, which made candles unnecessary for reading in the dark. And whereas the research of mere men spanned decades at most, Ellis had pursued his studies for centuries.

But immortality had not cured him of the bad habits he’d developed as a human academic. Sometimes he became so absorbed in his work that he went for weeks without feeding, without realizing, until he would look up from a book and be suddenly crushed by a hunger so strong that it hurt. As a vampire, this was not only unhealthy, but dangerous. He posed no threat to errant humans if he kept himself well-fed, but when he was starving, sometimes his self-control slipped.

He wouldn’t have called himself “starving” tonight, but he was hungrier than he thought was responsible. He planned out a hunting trip in his head while he packed necessities into a small leather bag. He always travelled far to feed, and never dipped into the surrounding hamlets. He found that the locals tolerated him as long as he kept his distance, even if they found him strange or had their suspicions about his true nature. He was careful not to upset this uneasy peace. A mob of frightened humans could be just as deadly as a vampire.

A loud knock sounded at the front door. Ellis paused in the act of packing, then heaved an enormous sigh. He thought briefly about slipping out the window and avoiding this encounter altogether, but he told himself that it wouldn’t be very sportsmanlike.

The person at the door was almost certainly Nicholas Golding, a vampire hunter of mild renown who’d been pursuing Ellis for months. They’d met abroad, on one of Ellis’s hunting trips, and since then they’d developed something of a rivalry.

“St. Claaaaiiiirrrr!” It was Nicholas, growing impatient at the door. “I have you this time, you devil!”

Ellis rolled his eyes, wondering if he could convince Nicholas to postpone the match until next week. Not likely.

He opened the front door to find a sword pointed in his face, the tip wobbling in clumsy little circles as if trying to find the perfect spot to stab.

“You’re mine now, St. Clair.” Nicholas swayed in place as he spoke, fighting to keep his footing. It was to his credit that his sword arm stayed as steady as it was.

“Golding,” said Ellis, as he pushed the sword aside with his hand, “you’re drunk. Go home.”

Nicholas laughed loudly. “You know even half-dead I’m more than a match for you.”

Ellis privately conceded the point. Nicholas was an arrogant prick, but he fought like a demon. He was incredibly skilled with a sword, resourceful, creative, and insufferable in his tenacity. Even drunk, he was a much more challenging opponent than any of the stooges the Church sent after him.

But Ellis had never seen Nicholas this drunk. The man positively reeked of ale, speech slurred, gaze unfocused, cheeks flushed an appealing shade of red. It was a wonder he’d made it up to the castle without falling off a cliff.

“Anyway,” said Nicholas, lowering his sword. He attempted to sheath it, but couldn’t manage to align the tip with the opening. He let the sword fall to the steps with a clatter instead, then looked back up at Ellis with a dashing, lopsided smile. “The innkeeper kicked me out. Let me stay the night, will you?”

“Are you out of your mind?” asked Ellis, scowling. He was far too hungry for a guest; particularly one who’d just held him at swordpoint. He was sure he had every right to slam the door in this man’s face.

But what would Nicholas do instead? Sleep drunk in a ditch? He’d be robbed blind by bandits if the wolves didn’t get to him first. Something in Ellis recoiled from the thought.

“I’ll sleep on the sofa,” Nicholas slurred. “You won’t even know I’m there.”

“Why not take the bed?” asked Ellis, sarcastic, but somehow he found himself stepping aside to make way. “It’s unoccupied at night, of course.”

A flicker of surprise crossed Nicholas’s face as Ellis invited him in. Then he reassumed his cheerful smirk and staggered over the threshold. “I knew I could count on you, St. Clair, you’re a gentleman and a scholar.”

“Yes, well, your timing has always been terrible,” said Ellis. “No sense turning you away now.”

Nicholas grinned and opened his mouth to fire off a retort, lost his footing, and went crashing down face-first onto the flagstone floor.

“Damn!” he said, snickering to himself. He struggled and failed to push himself up. Ellis sighed.

“Idiot,” he muttered, while he bent down to help. He grabbed an arm and heaved Nicholas to his feet, then gasped as he held him upright, knees buckling. It wasn’t the weight — Ellis had superhuman strength, after all. It was the smell. It was the man’s blood, rushing thick and hot beneath his skin. It was mouthwatering.

Oh I’m in hell, thought Ellis. Nicholas Golding was the last person on earth he wanted to drink from. But now the man’s whole warm weight was pressed against him and Ellis was suddenly ravenous. His mouth was inches from Nicholas’s neck.

He pinched his lips shut and held his breath as he half-carried the drunken fool to the bedroom and dumped him on the bed as gently as he could manage. Then he grabbed his leather bag and slipped away. Now that the hunter was taken care of, he could go about his own hunting in peace.

But he hesitated halfway out the door, plagued by niggling worries. Nicholas had barely been able to stand. How much had he had to drink? Was it safe to leave him like this? He didn’t want to come home to a week-old corpse.

Ellis wasn’t a monster, no matter what the neighbors thought. But he was a vampire. He was strong, and fast, and that was putting it mildly. He almost always emerged the victor from their little duels. And of course it had occurred to him to just kill Nicholas and be done with him once and for all. But that simply wasn’t how Ellis did things. And so, after every defeat, he left Nick Golding alive. That fact alone seemed to gall the man more than anything else; his pride had clearly suffered the worst wounds.

But over time, Ellis had sensed a corresponding reluctance that puzzled him. This came to a head one evening when their skirmish was interrupted by another hunter — one from the Church — inserting himself into the fight. The poor man hadn’t been anywhere near their league, but the distraction had given Nicholas an advantage. He managed to pin Ellis. He had his blade pressed against his throat. Ellis saw the flash of triumph in his eyes, before — nothing. Nicholas withdrew the blade. He let Ellis escape.

That was when Ellis realized that, somehow, their relationship had changed. Nicholas didn’t want Ellis dead. He wanted to defeat him, fair and square. They were fighting for sport.

Did that make them friends? He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he felt an annoying but undeniable concern for the man passed out drunk in his bed. And so, against his better judgment, he turned around and trudged back to the bedroom.

He stopped dead in the doorway. Nicholas was sitting up on the edge of the bed, gingerly fingering his nose, and blood was streaming from one of his nostrils.

“Think I broke my nose when I fell…” he muttered.

“Clean yourself up, you fool!” Ellis hissed, recoiling from the sight. Nicholas looked up with wide eyes, startled and bewildered.

“Oh— damn,” he said, as realization seemed to strike. He pulled an appallingly dirty handkerchief from his pocket and made a clumsy attempt to mop up the blood. It was hardly effective, but Ellis appreciated the effort.

“Better?” Nicholas asked, having the nerve to look cheerful, but his face fell when he saw the condition that Ellis was in. “Are you alright?” he asked, almost whispering.

Ellis was not alright. He wanted, ferociously, to drink Nicholas’s blood. He gripped the door frame with white-knuckled hands, struggling to compose himself, afraid to imagine what kind of expression was on his face.

Alarmed, Nicholas tried to rise, stumbled, fell to his knees, then picked himself back up unsteadily.

“Don’t come any closer,” Ellis warned.

Nicholas seemed ready to ignore the warning, but then he paused.

“Wait…” he asked, squinting across the room. “Are you drunk too?”

“Of course not,” Ellis snapped. He looked away, and without thinking, he said, “I’m starving.”

Nicholas froze, and a silence hung heavy between them. He sat back down on the bed. Ellis shut his eyes, trying to find some untapped well of resolve before he made a terrible mistake.

“You could drink from me,” Nicholas said.

The vampire’s eyes snapped open. He was sure that Nicholas was making a tasteless joke, but when he looked he saw nothing playful in the man’s face.

“Do you want to drink from me?” he asked again, as if Ellis hadn’t heard.

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” said Ellis hoarsely.

“Course I do. I’ve spoken with some of your victims. They don’t make it sound so bad.” He flashed one of his roguish smiles, and Ellis scowled in response. What was he thinking? Did he see this as another sort of absurd challenge? Let the vampire have his way with you and live to tell the tale?

He would never tell the tale if he knew what was good for him. For a vampire hunter, to be bitten was a terrible disgrace.

Nicholas’s nosebleed had slowed considerably by then, and the smell of fresh blood was replaced by the tang of the dry crust — not nearly as appetizing. Ellis breathed a bit easier.

“Don’t be a fool, Golding,” he said, “I’m not going to drink from you of all—”

He stopped short when he saw that Nicholas was unbuttoning his shirt.

“S’ppose the neck’s alright?” Nicholas asked, reaching for another button.

Ellis raced across the room and grabbed Nicholas by the collar, pulling his shirt shut.

“Would you stop that?” Ellis hissed. “Have you forgotten you’re drunk? You don’t know what you’re doing.”

Nicholas was still for a moment, staring down at the vampire’s hands. Then, gently, he wrapped his calloused fingers around Ellis’s wrists, and looked up into his face. “Ellis,” he said. His gaze was bleary and unfocused, but somehow full of an earnest concern. “I’m worried about you.”

Ellis’s long-dead heart thumped unevenly in his chest. He snatched his hands away. Nicholas took the opportunity to pull his shirt back open, exposing his neck and chest.

“Just do it, St. Clair,” he said. He glanced away, looking unexpectedly self-conscious. “It’s the least I can do. Since you’re letting me stay.”

“That’s not—” Ellis faltered, struggling to formulate another objection. But he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the flushed skin of Nicholas’s chest. His fangs ached in anticipation of the bite. His resolve was wavering.

He reached out a trembling hand. Nicholas certainly did owe him this, he reasoned, after all the months of trouble he’d caused. What was one little bite among friends?

No! What was he thinking? The man was drunk; he didn’t know what he was saying. Ellis had a brief vision of Nicholas waking up in the morning, acutely hungover, and horrified by what had occurred the night before. In fact, if Nicholas remembered any of this in the morning, things between them might change forever, and that thought hurt Ellis in a way he did not expect or know how to account for.

“It’s alright,” Nicholas said, voice low. “I don’t mind.” He placed his hands on Ellis’s hips and pulled him slowly closer. Ellis’s breath caught in his throat.

“I can’t let you do this,” he whispered. “You’ll have a scar. I’ll put your entire reputation at stake.”

Nicholas let his head fall forward, shoulders shaking. At first Ellis thought he’d given up, but then he heard the quiet laughter.

“At stake…” said Nicholas, snickering drunkenly.

“Oh you moron…” muttered Ellis. He should have used the distraction to pull away, but he didn’t. He couldn’t make himself.

Nicholas recovered with an effort, then looked back up at Ellis.

“I’m not worried about the scar,” he insisted; and there was something sly in his voice as he said, “Just bite me somewhere no one will see.”

A flash of intuition struck Ellis. He couldn’t quite believe it, but he threw caution to the wind and asked anyway.

“Are you trying to seduce me?”

Nicholas’s mouth slowly spread into a wicked grin. “I’m—” he said, but his expression suddenly soured. He shoved Ellis back, leaned over, and vomited messily onto the rug.

“Oh, perfect timing as usual,” said Ellis drily, raising his voice to be heard above the noise.

“I’ll clean it up,” Nicholas groaned, head hanging. He sounded miserable, and Ellis felt a twinge of guilt over his sarcasm.

“I’ll clean it up. Get in bed.”

“But—”

“Now, Nicholas,” Ellis barked, and Nicholas hastily obeyed, clumsily tucking himself under the covers.

“Forgot how scary you can be when you want,” he said, chuckling to himself as his eyes fell closed.

Ellis snorted as he left the room to fetch some water. He prayed that he’d kept his expression composed, but if his heart had still worked, it would have been hammering. His mind was reeling, trying to process what had just happened.

At least one thing was certain: There was no way he was going to bite Nicholas now. He was far too dehydrated to lose any blood. It was a relief to finally reach a decision, though his hunger still stung him like the pain of a wound. He would just have to bear it for now.

And what about in the morning? Would Nicholas renew his offer, or would he take back the things he’d said? Would he even remember? Ellis would certainly remember. He felt a hundred years younger, torn between apprehension and a boyish sort of excitement.

He smiled to himself, shaking his head. All this distress over that fool of a man… And a vampire hunter no less. Yes, things would certainly be changed between them tomorrow, but perhaps that was alright.

#exophilia #monster romance #monster boyfriend #vampire boyfriend #monsterkinkmeme #sighs writing

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solastia · 3 years

Text

Say You Won’t Let Go | 5

Pairing: Namjoon x Jimin x Seokjin

Word Count: 6,721

Warnings: Violence, referenced omega abuse, minor character death

Author Note: My lack of battle knowledge shows, I'm afraid. I kinda rushed through it because I couldn't figure out how to make it sound interesting lmao. Anyway, please enjoy this chapter of a story that is taking way too long to write! I'll try to get the next one out faster, especially since I know y'all just want to see what goes down during Jimin's heat.

PLEASE don't fill up my comments with nothing but, "OH MY GOD YOU UPDATED!" Y'all guilt trip me worse than my mama

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

A light mist showered over the training grounds, making the ground beneath them soggy. He knew if anyone would slip in the mud it would be him, so he watched the ground with careful eyes as he walked around assessing his troop’s progress.

Namjoon cracked his neck as he silently watched his villagers learning to defend themselves. He knew that if this really turned into a war they would be at a disadvantage, as they’d admittedly gone a bit soft. It had been nearly a hundred years since the last big tribe war, and they’d focused on advancing their village rather than fighting for more land.

He turned towards the direction that would take him home, sniffing in vain for some hint of his mate. He knew he wouldn’t be able to smell him this far away, but it didn’t stop him from wishing.

When his thoughts weren’t taken over by worries, they were occupied by thoughts of his sweet little mate. His Jimin, who was no doubt at home going crazy with worry and stress. He had no doubt that Jimin would do his best to protect their people, he just hoped someone was looking out for him. He’d try to do everything himself if someone didn’t force him to delegate.

He probably should have made some sort of arrangements for Seokjin as well, he thought sheepishly. He hoped the man would be doing alright in a village where he knew literally no one. He was also relieved when he realized his thoughts of the man no longer felt influenced by alpha instincts or needs of any kind. His claim was settled and he was free to consider the man with a rational frame of mind.

Truthfully, there was nothing much for him to consider. The omega seemed nice enough, and sure he was attractive, but Namjoon felt nothing when he tried to picture the man naked to assess his reaction. Well, nothing beyond the guilt that he felt knowing what another omega looked like underneath him. He’d always been a one-person man and it just wasn’t in him to consider even trying to force himself to think of Seokjin romantically. Friends, maybe. Sure.

Besides, his Jiminie was a needy little thing and wrung every drop of affection that was in Namjoon to give.

He smiled again, his thoughts once more on his mate. How he adored the man. He had been perfectly content to live out his days without pups and pass on his title to one of his nephews. Sadly, it appeared as though his mate had been correct in thinking that their childless state posed a challenge that others couldn’t pass up.

Theirs was a fertile land that they’d been cultivating for several generations now. It was almost unheard of for packs to truly settle in one spot, but they had been lucky enough to find such a lush land to call their own. Good soil, healthy and plentiful game, clean rivers and lakes - even their huge mountain was worthy of envy, as it provided so much protection and resources. The friendly human village that was always happy to trade with them was something to go to war for all by itself.

He sighed and turned his attention back to his men, observing their progress. Yoongi was a brutal trainer - merciless and always seeking perfection. Normally, he wouldn’t have given him such free reign but he’d decided that his right hand’s brand of tough love was what they needed the most at the moment. They didn’t have the luxury of time.

He’d sent a messenger to the Kim’s tribe, figuring him marrying into them should provide reason enough for them to send him more warriors. He had no faith that a message to get there and forces sent in enough time to help them with a battle if it came to that - it was rather a backup plan. In case they should fall, perhaps the sent warriors could at the very least save the pack they’d left behind.

The sound of feet running through puddles reached his ear and he swirled around to catch one of his scouts rushing towards him. The man was running so fast he couldn’t stop in time to prevent him from slipping into the damp ground. Namjoon reached out a hand and hauled the man up, narrowing his eyes as they met the frantic ones of his best scout.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“They’re here!” The man panted. “They didn’t go through the western forest as we thought. We suspect they went downriver instead. They’re already here, Alpha.”

Namjoons’ heart dropped right to his stomach. They weren’t ready. They weren’t…

Gentle hands pried his fingers from his hair and Yoongi’s sharp eyes bored into him. “Joon?”

“They’re already here. They’re…” He turned to his scout. “Where exactly are they, Yuen?”

“I spotted them setting up camp next to the cliffs.”

“Shit,” Yoongi hissed. “That’s only a twenty-minute walk from here.”

Namjoon hung his head, reaching up to rub his suddenly aching eyes.

“We have no choice but to be ready. Yoongi, Round up the men. Collect three of your best to be added to our personal party. We move out the moment you’re ready.”

Yoongi nods briskly and turns to roar orders. Namjoon spots Jungkook and waves him over. The younger alpha jogs to him and Namjoon grabs his shoulders.

“You are not going to like this, but…”

Jungkook interrupts him, “I’m not staying behind.”

“You are ,” he nods firmly, Jungkook’s mouth opening again to argue. He shakes his head, effectively shutting him up.

“I’m not going to make you stay right here, just in the back of the men. If things go south, I need you to be ready to run back to the village immediately. I’m not saying this because you’re weak - in fact, if I could I would have you up there with me and Yoongi because you’re better than both of us. It’s because I trust that you would be able to reach the village before any of our enemies could get there and save our people. Save our mates.”

Jungkook bows his head and softly asks, “You really think it’s going to go that way?”

Namjoon shrugs. “Dunno, Gukkie. I’ve certainly never dealt with this any more than the rest of us have. I just figured our best chance of survival is to expect the worst and hope for the best.”

“Okay.”

“Okay? You’ll stay back there?”

Jungkook nods then shakes his overly long hair with a grin. “Besides, your other option is probably Yoongi and it would take him two years to power walk back to the village.”

“Brat,” Namjoon chuckles fondly, pushing the man away from him. “Help him get everyone going.”

Jungkook nods and runs off, plowing into Yoongi’s back instead of stopping properly. Namjoon shakes his head and turns to sniff the air again in vain. He missed Jimin fiercely.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Once assembled, their party made good time reaching the cliffs. Namjoon decided their best course of action was to simply walk up to the outsider’s camp and demand answers. In fact, their leader most likely expected that since Namjoon would be well within his rights to do so. They were “visitors” on his land, after all.

Once their camp came into view, Namjoon paled, momentarily stunned. They had brought so many warriors, all of them painted and well-armed. This was definitely no negotiation party.

He forced himself to calm and pulled his shoulders back, bringing himself to full height and allowing his scent to permeate the air around him until even his own men were gritting their teeth against the blatant demand for submission. He gathered Yoongi and several of the warriors that he’d picked to surround him and strode forward.

He noticed several scouts and lookouts stand to attention but they made no move to stop him, nor to run back to their camp to inform their leader. Either they were in too much shock or…

“Ah, there you are, pup.”

A man stood in the center of their camp surrounded by several burly warriors with axes strapped to their backs. The man himself was armed with a massive club strapped to his hip and a bow on his back. He was stocky, not in very good shape, and was probably around the same age as his father. His scent indicated he was Pack Alpha, but it was sour, tinged with age and some sickness underneath.

“You are the Yang Alpha, I presume,” he inquired with as much politeness as he could manage.

“Indeed, my boy. Come join me by the fire. I’ve come for a little…chat.”

“You will speak to him with respect,” Yoongi growled, his hand tightening on a dagger strapped to his thigh.

The Yang Alpha chuckled, waving them forward. “What a loyal little beta you have there.”

Namjoon simply nodded and waved Yoongi down. He could tell what sort of man this was already. Nothing he said was going to have much of a difference. He already thought he was superior to them simply because of his age - and perhaps his warriors who have no doubt seen many battles.

He followed behind the Yang guards as they led them to their central fire and sat on the offered log. Yoongi stayed standing at his right and his other guards gathered behind him.

The Alpha proceeds to act like they weren’t even there, picking up his meal that he must have set aside earlier and tearing into a chicken leg. Namjoon startles at that for a moment, trying not to let his worry show. Unless this man’s war party traveled with a bunch of chickens, they had been in Namjoon’s village. Someone had snuck in and spied on them, and now he was eating the stolen chicken right in front of him like a taunt.

Namjoon clears his throat, willing his body to appear unbothered.

“I’m sure you are aware of why I’m here. State your business on my lands.”

The Alpha belches and licks his fingers clean, smacking his lips with satisfaction. He tosses the bone into the fire and only then does he see fit to look at Namjoon in the eyes.

He raises an eyebrow, his lips curling in a mocking smile.

“Ah, pup. No need for aggression. I’m simply here to look out for my neighbors,” the man shrugs nonchalantly. “I’d heard of your… troubles even across in my land so I thought I should come and lend a hand.”

“And what kind of hand do you think we need?” Namjoon asked, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in his tone.

“Ah, well. At first, I thought I’d give you one of my daughters. I have far too many of them anyway and their mothers were all certainly fertile as rabbits,” he smacks his tongue against his teeth and sighs. “Then I got a real good look at this land. Fertile soil, steady water supply, a village full of hard little workers.”

Namjoon’s jaw clenches as he waits for the inevitable. “Uh-huh…”

The alpha shrugs again and drawls, “And then I thought the best hand I could lend is my own. You’re a young pup and I’m sure you’re trying your best, but with a land like this to protect and your line unsecured, well…” he waves around. “Half of these warriors are my own sons. My line will be secure for hundreds of years. Figured I’d do your people a favor.”

Namjoon grits his teeth, wiling his alpha down. He desperately wanted to just lunge and tear the man’s throat out, but he knew he needed to be smarter than that.

The other Alpha snaps his fingers and bellows for wine. A moment later the scent of omega hit Namjoon’s unsuspecting nose. Why would the man have omegas in his war party?

The omega was male and jogged towards the Alpha with a full cup of sour-scented wine, and somehow doesn’t trip despite his eyes never leaving the ground beneath him. Namjoon felt his anger somehow grow further when he took in the state of the omega - the way his ribs poked out as though it had been far too long since he’d seen a good meal, the bruises that mottled his skin from head to toe, the state of his wrapping that barely covered him and was hardly in good enough shape to be considered a cleaning rag. The omegas scent was muted, as though the body was trying its best to protect itself. However, it was still enough for Namjoon to catch the hint of bright citrus hiding behind the muted emotions. He’s never seen an omega treated in such a way. They were to be protected and cherished, not treated as though they were even lower than the chubby dogs sitting on either side of the Alpha leader.

Suddenly, he noticed that Yoongi had gone deathly still at his side and he glanced up, noting the stricken expression on his second’s face. He knew full well that Yoongi hid a bleeding heart underneath all his gruffness, but he didn’t think this was what that was. Yoongi began to growl and he watched in disbelief as the omega’s nose twitched and he slowly glanced up to stare at Yoongi in wonder.

“I see your beta has his eye on my bitch. Reaching a bit far there, eh? Even a male omega is too high above a beta ,” he laughed cruelly, spitting out the designation like a slur.

Namjoon observed the pair curiously then turned back to the alpha. He figured his best bet for getting out of here safely was to distract the man from what he thought was happening.

“What are your terms for leaving without a fight?”

The man guffawed, a bit of spittle flying in the air. “No fight? Impossible, my boy. Unless you were willing to sit there and let me end you here and now, of course.”

Yoongi managed to tear his gaze from the omega long enough to growl at the man. The alpha simply sneers and grabs the omega by his hair and tugs him down to his knees in front of him. He runs his hands through the tangled auburn locks, silently mocking Yoongi.

“What, have you imprinted on him? Is he your precious little mate? Too bad. He’s mine. In fact, I’ve been thinking about breeding him since my last bitch is about to burst. Gotta give the new pup a friend, eh?”

Yoongi’s hand tightened around his dagger and pulled it halfway out of its sheath before Namjoon was able to place a restraining hand on his arm. He shakes his head and Yoongi lowers his hand, near-silent growls vibrating his whole body.

“I can see that there is no peaceful solution to be had with you, therefore I’m issuing you an official challenge. I will give you this evening to pack up and leave. If not, we will meet you at dawn and it will be a fight.”

Namjoon stood and placed a comforting hand on Yoongi’s shoulder, squeezing gently to urge him to fight his instincts. The man may have been a beta, but he was more alpha than many born to it.

He observed helplessly as the omega watched them leave, first soft whimpers then omega keening the further they got. The sound broke even his heart - he could only imagine how Yoongi felt.

They left the camp with Yoongi ahead of him and guards surrounding them both. He stared at his best friends overly straight back as he marched forward - no sign of the normal casual slouch that he was practically known for.

“Hyung, I doubt they are going to leave. There’s going to be a battle and I promise you that we’ll get him out. Do you trust me?”

Yoongi’s shoulders release the tiniest bit of tension, though not enough. “I hear you, Joon. I just…I can’t believe I finally found them. I found my mate and they…Joon. Did you fucking see him? He’s so beautiful but they…they hurt him. And he’s so scared. I’m a fucking beta and I could smell how terrified he was, that’s how bad it was. Who does that to an omega? A fucking monster, that’s who. You shoulda let me gut him, Joon. I coulda fixed it all right there.”

“And then his entire war party would have descended on us immediately and we would have been wiped out.”

Yoongi grunts and hangs his head.

“Hey, Joon?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you scent him?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me.”

“Well, it was a bit muted cuz he’s been traumatized I think. Can happen when a body is trying to protect it…but underneath it all, he kinda smelled like those oranges you always carry in your pockets.”

Yoongi snapped his head up to stare at him in wonder. “Really?”

“Yeah. If I can smell it that well even though his body is trying to mute it, it’s probably going to be strong enough for even you to scent when we get him well again.”

“Yeah?” Yoongi was smiling like a dope, and Namjoon chuckled silently. It was a new look for his friend but it suited him. Yoongi finally finding his mate was at least one good thing to come out of all this madness. The man had long ago resigned himself to living without one despite everyone assuring him that it would happen eventually.

Namjoon sighed and watched the sun lower itself on the horizon. The symphony of oranges, reds and blues usually brought a smile to his lips, but this night it merely made him anxious.

“Yoongi, make sure every man we have is alert tonight. Lookouts especially, but I don’t think anyone should sleep tonight.”

“You think they are bastards enough to attack in the middle of the night…” he pauses and curses, answering his own question. “Of course they are. I’ll let everyone know.”

Namjoon nods and faces the horizon again.

They’d make it through this - they had to.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

They’d put out the fires hours ago and simply waited. Many of the men that weren’t as proficient with weapons had shifted already, preferring to rely on their wolves in battle instead. Namjoon had chosen not to. He wanted to be standing tall and meet the old bastard face to face when he cut him down for threatening his people and upsetting his mate. Because of pathetic Alphas like this one, his mate had felt worthless enough to demand they add another to their home - to his bed - just to protect their village. He was furious that Jimin had been proven right.

Yoongi silently stalked towards the large rock that Namjoon perched on, his black form blending into the dark of the night perfectly. He jumped up and settled next to him, his ears standing tall and following every sound. He slightly bumped against Namjoon, a familiar motion that made him sigh.

“I’m good, just...angry. We haven’t bothered anyone in at least a hundred years. We have no desire to go around stealing land and killing people. Yet, just because we haven’t been able to have a pup we are suddenly deemed weak and unworthy? It’s so old-fashioned and just...barbaric. Because of this way of thinking I had to hurt three people - myself fucking included - by adding another person to my marriage just for his potential ability to breed. What happens if he can’t have pups either? What the hell am I expected to do then?”

His breathing is growing more erratic the more upset he gets and he clenches his fists tightening, whispering all of his hurts into the night.

“I...Yoongi...this has been so hard for me too. I know that everyone feels bad for Jimin and like, he’s been trying to keep it together in front of me, but I’m hurting too. I’ve never wanted anyone besides him. I’ve known since I was a kid that he was the love of my life. And like, every time we got pregnant I was both elated and terrified because it hurt me to lose the pups....but I was always afraid of losing him more. It just got worse and worse every time he lost them. That last time when I got home...he was laying on the ground surrounded by blood...I thought that was it. And if he died, I would follow him, Yoongi. Pack or not.”

The beta whines quietly and rubs his nose against Namjoon’s shoulder.

“Having Seokjin around is hard now, too. I’d forgotten about how strong the alpha instinct is to mark when you complete the ceremony. I had this idea that I’d...I don’t know. Hand him a cup full of jizz or something and let him take it from there,” he laughs self-deprecatingly. “I don’t feel anything for him besides curiosity and I hope that we’ll be able to be friends at least. I just...I feel so bad and guilty. And I just…” Namjoon sniffled and wiped at his dampening eyes. “I don’t even know if I’m making sense right now, hyung. Everything is so scrambled up there and now I have this...fucking war shit. I’m tired and I just want to go home and nest with Jimin.”

A tiny lick on Namjoon’s cheek was his only answer, but it was enough for now. He laughs softly, wiping another stray tear.

“Thanks, Yoon. Love you too.”

He sighs and leans back, staring up at the stars above him. He really was emotionally exhausted. When all of this was over - if he even survived it - he was making his father take over for a while while he took a nice vacation. He decided the least his village could do for him after everything he’d sacrificed recently was not bother him while he got his life with his mate back on track.

Yoongi suddenly stiffened next to him, bringing him to attention. He heard it next - a rustle of leaves and the occasional crunch of someone stepping on an acorn or some other debris.

They were here.

He could see them now, the red and gold eyes of the shifted warriors stalking through the trees. He sniffed the air, waiting for the leader to make himself known. Even as his own men threw themselves in front of him, effectively blocking any foolish enough to attack him directly, he waited…and waited.

He wasn’t showing up.

Namjoon lowly growled at the cowardice of the man. He was brave enough to trek across the land and try to steal from his pack, but fighting his own battles was asking far too much, apparently.

At his signal, his men leap forward and attacked the foreign warriors. There was no need for frills and banners - he simply wanted them gone. Yoongi was still sticking close to him, but his nose too was searching the air for the absent leader.

Namjoon bellowed his rage as he watched some of his people fall, the enemy ruthless with their kills. Hundreds of warriors fought in the makeshift battlefield, the ferocious growls and pained cries imprinting themselves into Namjoon’s nightmares for years to come. Jungkook was thankfully following instructions and staying as far from the front line as possible, but still managed to make a few kills. Trusting that the boy was safe for now, he throws himself further into the fray, his skills with a sword untried and rusty but enough to fight off shifted warriors for now.

Suddenly, Yoongi howls and leaps away from him, running forward at a speed that Namjoon didn’t even know he had in him. He cursed and shifted to follow behind, fearing that Yoongi had seen Jungkook in trouble or something equally horrifying. His confusion grew as Yoongi sailed right past the battlefield and kept going towards the enemy camp. He tried to bark orders to stop so he could get an explanation, but Yoongi either didn’t hear him or refused to obey because he only went impossibly faster, his sleeker form streaking through the trees and making it difficult for Namjoon’s wolf to keep up. While he was the biggest wolf the village had seen in years, he lacked any sort of agileness or grace. Usually, it wasn’t that much of a problem, but Yoongi charging into an enemy camp without backup would be.

When the cliffside camp finally came into view, Yoongi went charging past the guards and Namjoon was still a few leagues behind, having already tripped three times and leaving dirt and twigs clinging to his platinum-hued fur.

Nearly panting with effort, he too ignored the threats of the guards and trotted to where Yoongi stood growling at the Yang Alpha. The man had the omega they’d seen earlier held to the dirt-packed ground with a foot on his back, the rotting wrap that had been his only piece of clothing nowhere to be seen. There was a group of leering men standing around in a circle around the scene like it was simply entertainment. The rest of the pack continued with their duties all around the camp like this was a usual occurrence. Namjoon averted his eyes to give the omega some respect, keeping them glued to the offending alpha instead as he and Yoongi slowly shifted forms.

He unfurled and looked down his nose at the flabby alpha, towering over the now raging man. His fetid breath swirled in the air as he cursed Namjoon and Yoongi for their interruption.

Namjoon rumbled and stalked closer, uncaring of his nakedness as he postured. He had nothing to be ashamed of after all - especially next to this failure of a man. This man who bullied and abused omegas, who attacked peaceful packs unprovoked, who didn’t even have the balls to join the fight he had started.

“I was waiting for you, Yang. You were nowhere to be found. You aren’t backing out, are you?” Namjoon asked in a mocking tone, drawing the alpha’s attention to him and away from the beta who was now guarding the omega from view.

“Hardly,” the old man guffawed, vile spittle flying. “I thought instead it would be amusing to breed my bitch while his mate was being gutted. Poetic.”

Namjoon felt his growl rise to the surface like molten lava. “Instead, you are going to die.”

“Sorry, pup. Not this day.”

The old alpha waved at the group of warriors that had been standing around like spectators and they quickly shoved the man behind them and faced Namjoon.

There was nothing pretty about the way he fought his way through them. He simply forced his way through to the alpha with a brutal viciousness he didn’t even know he possessed. Two of the men were bashed together with so much force he was almost certain he broke them. Several others were shredded with half-extended claws and his canines. Before he knew it the ground around him was littered with bodies and only one remained between him and his prey.

“Please,” the man - no, he was practically a boy. No more than fifteen he thought. “He told me to watch. I didn’t want to. I didn’t even want to come here. He’s…”

“Shut up, you sniveling whelp,” the alpha grunted and shoved a dagger into the boy’s heart from behind.

Namjoon reached forward and caught the boy as he fell, staring into the bewildered eyes of the youth as he died in his arms. He lay him gently on the ground next to the other men and stared at the alpha with disgust.

“He was your own son , you monster!”

Namjoon’s eyes whirled to meet the hate-filled ones of the omega, who was now free of his bindings and glaring at the Yang alpha like he was a maggot he’d just found in his meal.

“He was weak,” the Yang alpha grunted derisively. “Was always telling me he didn’t want to fight or breed. Useless whelp wanted to be a healer like his bitch of a mother.”

The man seemed to suddenly realize he was out of shields when he peeked over at Namjoon then ran straight for the omega. Yoongi had begun to leap forward to block him, instead, the omega pushed him away and let the alpha grab him.

“What are you doing?” Yoongi’s voice was filled with hurt and confusion, and Namjoon didn’t blame him one bit. They were trying to save him - save everyone. Why would he let the crazed alpha have him?

“It’s alright. I belong to him. Don’t I, alpha?” the omega crooned, his voice like liquid honey.

“That’s right. You and everything we see are mine. It’s all mine,” the alpha nearly whispers as he pulls the omega’s back to his chest, wrapping an arm around his waist.

Namjoon could see it now. The madness lurking behind the alpha’s near-crazed frantic eyes. There was something wrong with the man, and he suddenly remembers the sour scent when he’d first met him.

The omega releases a loud purr and allows the alpha to bury his face into the crook of his neck, his scent suddenly pouring out as if he’d just popped off the cap. Namjoon observes with trepidation as the omega seems to be slowly making the Yang alpha walk backward, his eyes locked with Yoongi’s as he allows his scent to fill the air for the first time in what must have been years.

“Omega, what are you doing?” Yoongi asks pleadingly, his hands out towards the man even as tears begin to fall from his eyes. Namjoon knows his friend must be overwhelmed right now - he was just able to fully scent his mate for the first time, as well as any alpha or omega would have.

“It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay,” he croons soothingly, petting the alpha still buried against his neck. “I’m going to make it all better.”

Namjoon has a horrible feeling in his gut as he finally notices how close they are getting to the edge of the cliff. There was nothing on the other side but a rocky ravine and if they should fall…

“Omega, come to me now,” he growled, trying to infuse as much alpha voice as he could into the command.

The man’s eyes glazed over slightly, but he squared his shoulders and shook his head. Namjoon was amazed at the man’s strength.

“I’m going to end this now.”

The omega suddenly turned in the alpha’s grip and placed both of his hands on the man’s chest.

“This is for my mother, for me, and for every other life you’ve terrorized.”

With a firm push, he sends the alpha tumbling off the cliff edge. The garbled yell as the scent-drunk man finally realizes what is happening to him reaches their ears, but neither Namjoon nor Yoongi go to watch the scene. Namjoon certainly didn’t want to have that image in his mind. The omega, however, stands there staring in silence, until a final thud signals the alpha’s fate.

He turns and faces the remaining members of the Yang pack as they all stare with expressions varying between horror and satisfaction.

“According to your own rules that state anyone who defeats pack alpha takes control, I am now leader of the pack. My first and only orders will be that anyone who wishes to leave the pack may do so now without fear of retribution. Everyone else will go back to the main village and stay there, never to come this way again. And finally, I am stepping down as leader immediately and leaving it to Kwon Jiyong.”

A quiet mild-smelling alpha that Namjoon had hardly noticed before glanced up sharply at the claim.

“Me?”

“Yes,” the omega nodded decisively. “You are one of the few that actually treats everyone well and has been strong against the corruption of this pack. You did what you could to help even when you were one man against hundreds. I don’t know how many times you’ve tended my wounds when alpha said to let them fester or snuck us food when we were being punished yet again. No one else here is more worthy of the title than you.”

“I…” the alpha gulped, staring nervously at all the gazes now on him. “I’ll do my best.”

The omega nodded and strode through the crowd with as much grace as a king of old, and seemingly uncaring of his nudeness or the battered state of his body. He walks right up to Yoongi and places his hands on his hips, cocking his head as he studies the beta.

“I’m Jung Hoseok,” he finally says with a tiny smile.

“I’m Min Yoongi,” he murmurs back, unable to tear his eyes from the omega.

The omega’s smile grows and his scent is once again swirling around them so strongly Namjoon is almost embarrassed. At least the man smelled good - mostly like the little oranges that Yoongi always ate, but with a few deeper notes that brought to mind a bright summer’s day. It was so strong that it was a good thing the man seemed to have a handle on muting it when he needed to, but he knew that it was a blessing for Yoongi. He could actually scent his mate - something he’d never believed he could do. He would be able to scent his mate’s emotions and health, bond properly...Namjoon nearly wanted to cry he was so happy for his friend.

Yoongi snaps his eyes away from the omega and suddenly starts to look around, frantically searching for something.

A tall beta quietly walks up to them and tears off his long crimson tunic, standing in nothing but worn leather wrappings. He offers it to the omega with a shy quirk of his lips.

“It’s clean and has no scent, so it should last you until you find something better.”

The omega seems to gladly accept it and throws it on immediately, the fabric nearly reaching his shins.

“Thank you, Seunghyun,” Hoseok grins and the beta slinks back away as quiet as before.

“He’s not one of the ones that hurt you?” Yoongi grunted.

“No,” Hoseok shakes his head, sighing. “He’s a craftsman - makes and repairs our weapons. Jiyong will probably make him his right-hand man.”

The three of them stand there awkwardly for a moment as the remaining members of the war party seem to ignore them for the most part and begin preparations to leave.

“So,” Namjoon clears his throat. “Are you coming with us or staying with them?”

“Oh,” the omega blushes, glancing at Yoongi. “I was waiting to see what he wanted. Do you...want me to come with you?”

“YES!” Yoongi blurted, then cleared his throat and jammed his hands into his pockets. “I mean, sure. If you want. Whatever.”

“Great! Let’s go!” Hoseok laced his arm with Yoongi’s and tugged him along, leaving Namjoon - their pack alpha, mind you - trailing behind. Namjoon snorts to himself, thinking that his friend was about to have his life turned around more than he’d ever thought possible.

“Wow, you smell so good,” Hoseok suddenly purred, making Namjoon wish he could be anywhere else.

“Uh, that’s nice of you to say, but I’m beta. I don’t…”

“I can smell you, and I’m pretty sure you’re aware we’re mates so it’s probably because of that,” Hoseok chuckles, leaning down to take an exaggerated sniff of Yoongi’s neck.

The beta glanced up at him warily. “Yeah? What does it smell like?”

“Mmm, like fall.”

“What?” Yoongi scrunched his nose and even Namjoon leaned closer curiously to hear the explanation. He’d certainly never been able to scent Yoongi, and he’d known him all his life.

“Yeah, like...cinnamon and pine and maybe a hint of something else. It’s nice. Comforting.”

Yoongi’s shoulders went rigid and he fell silent. Years of studying his best friend gave him that the knowledge that the man was trying not to cry. He wanted to stop and hug him, but he also really wanted to hurry back to their own camp and put on some clothes.

Jungkook came running through the trees to meet them, thankfully bearing a bag full of clothing they always kept around for after a shift.

“Hyungs! Someone from the Yang side came through and stopped all the fighting. Said their alpha was dead and pulled everyone out. What happened?”

“Jung Hoseok here saved us all,” Namjoon reached up and grasped the omega’s shoulder, squeezing gently. Hoseok dropped his head shyly and blushed at the claim.

“Really? How?”

“Pushed the fucker right off a cliff,” Yoongi grunted with amusement. Hoseok squawks in dismay.

“Shit, that’s so cool. Are you coming back with us? My mate is a badass omega too - he’ll love you.”

“Yes,” Namjoon answered for the pair as they remained silent. “Hoseok and Yoongi are true mates. We need to get them back to the camp before their instincts take over. I’d also like to have a nice big meal for the evening to celebrate our victory and get some meat on his bones. Have a few of the men head out to hunt, please Gukkie?”

“On it, alpha!” Without another word he ran back the way he’d come, leaving Yoongi and Namjoon to quickly dress and continue their trek at a slower pace.

After a few more minutes of walking, Namjoon glanced over at Hoseok, studying him curiously.

“You know,” he finally says after a while. “You seem to be taking everything pretty well right now…” Namjoon was genuinely amazed at how strong this omega seemed to be. He’d just killed someone, left who knows how many years of abuse behind, has to be starving and cold - and yet he’s just grinning as he walks with Yoongi, swinging their linked arms like he hadn’t a care in the world.

“Oh, believe me,” Hoseok chuckles. “I will be having a panic attack later, I can promise you that. There will be tears and crying and I probably will keep myself behind doors for a while,” he shrugs and glances over at Yoong with a fond smile. “I think I’m mostly alright at the moment because my omega is thrilled our mate is here. Kinda running high on pheromones and hormones right now.”

“Gotcha,” Namjoon shakes his head. “We’ll plan on the two of you...bonding...tonight, but we’ll have to pack up and head home tomorrow. It’s going to take a lot of work to get the village running smoothly again.”

The moment the camp is in sight Namjoon breathes a sigh of relief. If he was being brutally honest, he hadn’t thought he’d see it again. Hadn’t thought he’d get to go home. But here he was and he was just so ready to get to his mate again.

“Alpha.”

“Ah, Jackson. Good to see you’re alright,” Namjoon smiled brightly at a favored member of his inner circle.

“Thank you, alpha. Good to see you lot make it out alright too. Just wanted to update you before you found your bed.”

“Great. You two go on ahead,” Namjoon gives Yoongi a friendly tap on the back. “Get your mate fed and seen to by our healers before you do anything.”

“Shut up,” Yoongi mumbles, his cheeks nearly scarlet. Still, he grabs the omega’s hand and tugs him towards the central fire where the men are already prepping food for the evening meal.

He turns back to Jackson. “Report.”

“We have twenty-three men wounded, ten were killed. Arrangements have already been made to send the bodies home and we are doing what we can with the wounded. Most of their injuries can wait to be dealt with until we can take them home to healer Lily. A warrior came from the enemy encampment and informed everyone that the Yang alpha was dead and called the men back before we lost too many of our own.”

Namjoon sighs and thanks whoever would listen. He nods, “Thank you, Jackson. Go find your own rest. We pack up and head home tomorrow.”

Jackson grins and spins around, running back towards his personal group of friends. Namjoon sighs wearily and makes his way towards the tantalizing scent of roasting meat. He’d barely sat on a log before someone is shoving a bowl of food into his hands and he begins to eat automatically, just wanting the chore to be done so he could go to sleep. He stares at his friend Yoongi talking softly with his new mate while they fed each other bits of food like the disgusting saps he’d always suspected his friend would be.

One more night and he could start the journey home.

I’m almost there, Jiminie. I’m actually coming home to you, love.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #abo #omegaverse #solastia #say you wont let go #bts abo #alpha namjoon #omega jimin #omega seokjin #polyamory au #poly!bts

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plotting-against-you · 3 years

Text

Will It Ever Be the Same (Part 1)

Fandom: Nancy Drew (TV 2019)

Characters: Ryan Hudson, Nancy Drew, Ace, Bess Marvin, George Fan, Ned 'Nick' Nickerson

Prompt(s): This is based on two prompts. One of those prompts is from Alicia, who asked: "Could you do one where Nancy is 13 instead, has blonde hair like Lucy, and blue eyes like Ryan? She goes to his place like in 1x17 to get help for the ritual and on the way out she gets dizzy because she's been working herself to exhaustion. In that moment Ryan notices how similar she looks to Lucy and himself but decides not to say anything but also knows Nancy is his. She eventually tells him before doing the ritual. They go back to his place and he just says 'I know it's you'. She gets overwhelmed, almost passes out, and he just sits with her and tells her to rest."

This is also for @nancydrewcentral's week 2 hiatus prompt: Time Period AU.

Warnings: Panic/Anxiety attacks, mentions of anxiety and coping mechanisms, mentions of character deaths (past and present), mentions of suicide

Nancy wrapped her arms around herself as she bent over, heaving shallow breaths into the air. The sky grew lighter now, as she’d been running for most of the night, and she found herself unsure what to do or where to go next.

“You’re DNA wasn’t a match for the female hair.”

“It’s a mother-daughter match for Lucy Sable.”

“She’s me. The baby is me.”

She couldn’t believe the information she had just found out, and she wished she were older. She thought that if she were older, she might have had more experience in life to handle this sort of life-shattering revelation, but being only fourteen years old, all she felt was betrayal.

And heartbreak.

And panic.

So maybe she felt a lot of things, Nancy admitted to herself, but she felt she had the right to do so. Her whole life had been turned upside-down in a matter of a few hours, and she wasn’t sure what to do now.

She’d been told stories of how hard freshman year in high school could be, but she was positive her friends hadn’t meant this.

She saw headlights approaching and ducked behind a tree, holding her breath as they passed. Though she knew it could be dangerous for someone as young as her to be out alone all night, she was in no mood to face her father. Besides, it wasn’t like she was inexperienced.

She was Nancy Drew, after all.

Or was she?

She let herself plop onto her butt in the grass as she contemplated what to do next. She couldn’t face Carson—for calling him ‘Dad’ now was too hard—but she couldn’t stay out there for too much longer. She’d left her jacket as she climbed out her bedroom window and had started to shiver as soon as she had stopped running.

Her heart ached for the only woman she’d ever known as mother, Kate Drew, and her feelings were mixed there. She didn’t want to be bad at her…whatever she was to her now. Kate had died only a year earlier, and coming to terms with the fact that she’d lied to her hurt more than she wanted to admit.

Then she shivered again and realized she had to find somewhere to take shelter.

She could go to The Claw, she knew. She and her friends had picked up summer jobs working there for cash—under the table of course and no pun intended—and Dawn had always said they could go there whenever they needed. But her friends wouldn’t be there for a few hours yet, and Nancy wasn’t entirely sure she was ready to explain her new parentage to them yet.

As the rush of memories from the night prior filled her head, she picked out one statement that kept replaying itself.

“Ryan Hudson is my biological father.”

She’d seen Ryan Hudson in many different ways over the last few months. For fourteen years, she’d known him as the rich, arrogant hill topper who only graced their town when it was convenient for him or his business dealings.

Then his wife had died during her shift at The Claw, and they’d all been thrown into what she thought would be the weirdest time in her life. Being a murder suspect at fourteen wasn’t what any of her friends had expected for their lives, but it had happened. It was while she was trying to solve that case that she started to see a different side to the man.

Then she’d found out everything regarding his painful loss of Lucy Sable, and her heart broke for him.

Though she’d wanted to help him and Lucy’s ghost in some way, she was forced to put her feelings on pause as even crazier things came to pass—it would be just their luck to call to a sea spirit that wanted them dead—and she’d had to change her list of priorities.

Now all she could think about was how she knew the difficulty in trying to reconcile something in your brain that you had no control over and no knowledge of, no matter how hard you tried.

Standing from her spot in the damp grass, she took a deep breath and started walking again.

This time she knew exactly where she was going.

…

Her phone rang just as she was approaching Ryan’s house.

Groaning as she assumed it was her…Carson, again, she lifted it to hang up but stopped when she saw that it was Ace instead.

He’d been at The Claw with her the night before when she’d read the DNA match on John Sanders’ laptop. So far, he was the only one to know her secret outside of herself and Carson, and she’d only let him stay because he refused to leave her side.

Though he was usually more ‘chill’ than that, he could be a very protective boyfriend when he wanted to be.

She knew that he would be worried about her, especially considering he knew her better than anyone else in her life. So, deciding it would be a good idea to at least tell him she was alive and not eaten by a bear or killed by the Aglaeca, she answered and lifted it to her ear.

“Ace.” She breathed his name out like he was the life raft she needed to save her from drowning.

“Nancy.” She could hear the concern in his voice. “Where are you? Are you okay? Your dad called my parents and said that you ran away.”

She bit her lip. “Carson told me the truth after I confronted him.”

“Oh, Nance…” He used her nickname, and it squeezed at her heart.

“I’m sorry I made you worry.” Her voice was thick with tears as she felt them rush to her eyes. “I can’t be around him right now.”

Ace’s voice was soft as if he were calming a scared animal. “You could have come to me.”

She shook her head, though she knew rationally that he couldn’t see her. She had the brief thought that maybe he had hacked a satellite and could possibly see her. When they’d started dating, he promised he would do anything he could to keep her happy and safe.

“I’m sorry. If I had come there, your parents would have told Carson, and I just….”

“I get it.” His voice was equal parts comforting and protective. “Just tell me if you’re okay.”

“I’m okay.” She sniffed.

“Good. Because I know you’re dealing with a lot, but uh, George’s mom says the Aglaeca’s coming after us.” He said it quickly as if ripping off a band-aid.

This stopped her in her tracks, and she paid no mind to the fact that she stood on the side of a dangerously curved road in the middle of nowhere.

In her silence, he continued. “Nick, Bess, George…we’ve all gotten these really weird visions. Portents. Have you?”

She sighed and closed her eyes in defeat. “I vomited up a seaweed wreath yesterday morning.”

“I would say that qualifies.” He said lightly.

“When I went to look for it later, it had turned to sand. Are you saying the Aglaeca did that?” She hadn’t believed in the supernatural before Tiffany Hudson’s murder, but she wholeheartedly believed in it now.

“Yeah.” Ace hesitated. “Apparently, it’s like a bloodhound. And because the Aglaeca responded to your call for Lucy’s bones, you’re acting as its gateway.”

“What, Ace? What aren’t you telling me?” Nancy knew her boyfriend well, and he was holding something back from her.

“Uh…well, that also means you’re the one that’s capable of stopping it.”

“You don’t sound hopeful about that.” Her heart lurched in sudden anxiety. “Do you not trust me to do it?”

“No!” He said quickly before correcting himself. “I mean, yes. Obviously, I trust you. It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

It was his turn to sigh. “Well, George’s mom says that you can throw it off your trail by mixing your blood with somebody else’s. Disguising yourself so that, you know, the curse can’t find you, because if it can’t find you, it can’t find any of us.

“Uh, but…the ritual has to be done with a relative. Your blood relative.”

There was the catch and the reason for his earlier hesitation. “Well, that’s a problem, because…you saw the test results last night. My closest relative is not my blood relative.”

“But Ryan Hudson is.” He sighed again. “Listen, I know that poses certain challenges, and don’t worry. You know your secret is safe with me. But…”

“I, uh…” She started walking again and let the gears in her head turn. “I think I have a plan.”

“Nancy, babe, what are you going to do?” His voice held concern again, but also admiration.

He constantly made sure she knew how in awe he was at her detective skills and her ability to make the best of even the worst situations.

“I’ll meet you guys at Bess’ aunt’s party, okay?”

“Can you at least tell me the plan?” Ace was quick with his words, knowing full well that she could hang up at any moment.

“I have to talk to my father.”

…

Ryan crouched on the ground, frozen in place as he looked at the papers scattered in front of him. He’d been up nearly all night searching for any clue as to why Lucy hadn’t talked to him before taking her own life.

Then he’d picked up on the clues she’d written in her journal, and his mind had stopped.

Stroking his finger over Lucy’s baby picture he’d found in her yearbook, he allowed his mind to wander to every what-if scenario that came at him

What if Lucy had been pregnant? Were either of them ready to be parents at eighteen?

What if she’d told him about the baby? Would it have made a difference?

What if she’d lived? Could they have raised their baby together?

What if his parents found out? Is that why they threatened her?

Ryan was so lost in his thoughts that he almost missed his front door opening and whipped his head up to make sure it wasn’t either of the elder Hudsons coming in. He couldn’t have them knowing what he knew—they could react any number of ways. If he did have a child out there, he didn’t want them anywhere near his parents.

Then he caught sight of Nancy and sighed. “What, did you break-in? Figured you and your dad would be celebrating by now.”

Nancy remembered how Ryan had thanked them after the hearing had adjourned. He’d been upset by everything that happened but also grateful that they’d found out the truth of what happened with Lucy.

She felt horrible for having to go back on those things and hurt him again.

She wondered how she was supposed to once again break the heart of this man who had been through so much. He was only thirty-two and had lost the love of his life and his wife. Now, after twenty-four hours of thinking he knew exactly what had happened, Nancy was supposed to add more to his plate? It was causing her heart rate to spike, and she knew a panic attack was coming.

She saw the hopeful look in his eye and couldn’t do it. She wasn’t going to be the one to deal another blow to his fragile mental health.

“I need your help.”

“Uh, sorry, I can’t today. I have to get over to the free clinic in Trenton.” He was still crouched on the ground as he spoke.

Her face scrunched in confusion, and something shifted in his brain that he couldn’t quite place.

“Don’t you have rich people health insurance?” She questioned him as she moved over to the counter.

He rolled his eyes at her teenage sarcasm. “It’s not for me, okay? I’m trying to get answers on Lucy. The court clerk gave me a copy of her journal.”

Her already accelerated heart rate sped up as she turned to him. “Why?”

“Why?” He sounded appalled by the question and stood. “Because my dad threatened her! I wanted to make sure he wasn’t being physically violent. I didn’t see anything in her journal about that, but I did find some other helpful things.”

Every time he spoke, he made her anxiety worse, not that he was aware of it. “Like what?”

“I mean, you’re still young, so I don’t want to read some of it to you, but in early spring of 2000, she was writing stuff that makes me think….” He trailed off, unsure if he should tell her what he found.

She was only fourteen, after all. He didn’t know what she knew or if she was even comfortable with the subject.

“Go on.” She looked at the back of the papers in his hand, not being able to meet his eye. “I’m not a child.”

Ryan sighed. “I think she might have been pregnant.”

Nancy fought to keep the gray from edging into her eyesight as she swallowed down the rising panic within her. She knew if she didn’t give into the feelings soon, or at least do some techniques that she’d been taught, she’d pass out or worse. But she didn’t want to give away her secret to him just yet—if ever—so she shook her head.

“And you think the baby was yours?”

He scoffed. “Of course, it would have been mine! Lucy and I were…dating…around New Year’s, and so yeah. Mine.”

“You mean you were sleeping together around then.” She corrected for him and rolled her eyes at the shocked and slightly horrified look on his face. “Oh, stop that. I’m in high school now. I know these things.”

Then she caught the new look on his face and froze. He no longer looked shocked or horrified by her words but stared at her as if he was looking right through her. She felt her throat tighten and took a step back.

Ryan stared at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. Whatever had shifted in his head minutes earlier when she’d scrunched her face had returned the moment she rolled her eyes at him, and all the puzzle pieces had come together.

Both of those faces were exact replicas of his and Lucy’s expressions respectfully, and suddenly he was seeing what he hadn’t through their entire “working” relationship.

Besides the fact that Lucy had been haunting both of them, the young detective had told him she was allergic to wasps’ stings, and so was he. In addition to that, he remembered seeing her bite her lip when she was nervous, a trait that Lucy had right up until the day she died.

Then there were her looks. Her blonde hair may have been turning redder every day, but it was undoubtedly Lucy’s, as were her blue eyes his. She was the perfect combination of them, and he knew the truth in his heart.

Lucy had been pregnant. And Nancy was their daughter.

Then his surroundings came back to him, and he saw how she looked at that moment.

Her usually snarky yet confident expression had turned to fear, eyes wide and pale skin merging together to make her look gaunt. Ryan saw her throat moving quickly and knew she was trying to either swallow down tears or suck in air. Her hand, which now gripped the papers he’d handed her, shook enough to be visible, and she looked utterly exhausted.

He knew a panic attack when he saw one and knew that she also knew the truth.

Not wanting to push her, he told himself he wouldn’t bring it up to her. But, still, he had to make sure she was okay. The last thing he wanted was for her to be hospitalized because she was panicking over this added thing in her life.

“Nancy?” He kept his voice even, though he could hear the worry in it. “Are you okay?”

As he said the words in the same way Ace had said earlier, she told her brain that it was her boyfriend’s voice she was hearing and forced herself to relax. “I…”

“Can I get you some water?” Ryan moved away from her, walking to the sink. “You look pale.”

“Yeah, I, uh…didn’t get any sleep last night.” She forced herself to take some deep breaths while his back was turned and felt a bit more stable when he brought her the glass. “Counteroffer…I’ll help you find out if Lucy was pregnant if you do me a favor after.”

He’d do anything she asked of him, he realized, even if it meant doing her favors or playing along with something she clearly didn’t know he knew. “Deal. Do you need to call your dad?”

He saw the way she cringed at the word ‘dad’ and confirmed his theory that she wasn’t doing as well with the news as he was.

“Uh, nope. I’m good. He’s probably at work anyway.”

He didn’t call her out on the lie, instead holding the front door open to follow her to his car. He’d find out more about that situation later.

…

She’d lied to him. She’d looked him right in the face and lied to him.

They’d taken the trip to Trenton, and acting like a spoiled, entitled rich guy had made Ryan realize just how shitty of a person he probably was in everyone’s eyes. After Nancy had insisted on speaking to the doctor herself, he stood in the waiting room and thought about it.

He knew that he was different from everyone else in Horseshoe Bay, but until he was pretending to threaten to shut down the clinic, he had never realized how those people might see him. It was hard to come to terms with the fact that you had been an asshole for thirty-two years of your life, but Ryan had decided at that moment there wouldn’t be another.

He was going to change for Nancy, even if she never knew it was for her. He never wanted to see the look on her face as he had when she’d shut him up or told him a flat-out lie after leaving the clinic.

Sitting in the driver’s seat of his car, he thought about the story she’d spun for him, telling him that Lucy had been pregnant but had died with her child still inside her womb. He had done the math and had figured out that Nancy had been born weeks earlier than her due date, and she must have too.

Her knowledge of life and her ability to spin a tale baffled him.

“So, are you going to like…tell me why we’re going to Diana Marvin’s house?” He questioned, not wanting to sit in silence any more than they had.

Nancy huffed. “It’s Bess and her cousin Owen’s house, too.”

Owen Marvin was quite unlike the rest of his family. Being their age and having so few family members that were, he sometimes joined Bess at The Claw during her shift to hang out with their group. Of course, they all knew that he primarily came to flirt with Nancy but had been sweet enough to stop once her relationship with Ace had come out.

“I know, but still. You know that I’m like persona non grata, so you want to tell me what this favor is or what?”

“Yeah, in a minute. Can I ask you something?” Nancy had shifted her head lazily on the headrest so that she could look at him.

She still looked slightly pale, something the doctor had also noticed when they walked in, but her breathing seemed to be better, and she looked less like crying.

“Yeah, sure.”

She opened and closed her mouth only once before speaking. “What would it have meant, if-if you’d had the…the baby? Do you think you were ready to be a dad at eighteen?”

He should have known this question was coming. Even so, he answered honestly as he figured she’d be able to tell if he was lying. Besides, she looked too vulnerable as she stared at him.

“At eighteen? No…” He chuckled slightly. “No, hell no. A kid like me, I was dumb and spoiled, and I had horrible parental role models, as you know, so no. That would have been a disaster.”

He thought of his parents again and internally cringed, promising himself he’d do everything in his power to keep them away from Nancy.

“Do you think…do you think that you would have tried to…?” He saw her tuck a strand of hair out of the corner of his eye before she froze and started pulling at her hair. “Oh my God.”

“Hey, you okay?” He glanced at her now, then nearly hit the breaks as she started choking. “Hey. Hey, h-hold on.”

He swerved dangerously to the side of the road and brought the car to a park. Nancy was throwing herself out of the car the second they were stopped, and he followed her actions, panic welling up inside of him.

He wasn’t sure if she was having a panic attack again, but it looked different than it had before back at his house. When he finally got around to her side of the car, she was breathing again. He reached her side the second she slammed the door shut and watched in confusion as she stared at her reflection in the tinted windows.

“Hey, what…what, are you having a panic attack?” He knew he wasn’t supposed to ask, but it scared him.

Then he saw her look at her hand and the pile of sand that sat in it that had definitely not been there a moment prior. “No, no, uh…it was a portent.”

“A portent?” How did she even know what that word meant? He sure didn’t at fourteen. “What, you mean from Lucy?”

“No. From something completely different.” She looked scared now, but differently from before.

This had nothing to do with their familial relationship, and that seemed to worry him even more. He wondered if her whole life would worry him, as she seemed always to be ingrained in some dangerous happenstance.

“This is the favor that I had to ask you, actually.” She sounded upset, tears threatening to fall. “A few days ago, I did something unusual to get the evidence to exonerate my…to exonerate Carson. Uh, my friends and I did this ritual to call to this sea spirit.”

He was completely confused but tried to keep up. “Sea spirit. Like…like dolphins?”

She shook her head as she sat on the ledge overlooking the sea. “Stay with me. It’s a local legend. Uh, and it worked. The Aglaeca answered my call. But the problem is…is I couldn’t hold up my end of the bargain.

“The…the Aglaeca wanted Owen Marvin’s blood. All of it. So we couldn’t go through with it, and now we triggered this, uh, curse, and I have to fix it. And in order to do that, I need to do another ritual to make sure that the spirit doesn’t lock onto its target, and…and that’s where you come in.”

She hated having to get someone else involved, but she was desperate for anything that might save the lives of her and her friends.

Though he wanted to wrap his arms around her and whisk her away to be somewhere safe from all this nonsense, he knew that wouldn’t solve anything. He’d seen enough of Lucy’s ghost to know that supernatural creatures existed, and if his daughter was tangled up with one, he couldn’t let her down.

“Why me?” He was genuinely curious and hoped it didn’t come off as a refusal. “I mean, unless this Aglaeca takes cash, then I’m….”

“It’s not about your money this time, Ryan.” She snapped at him now, and he could see the panic setting back in. “It’s about you specifically, because….”

He froze, watching her face carefully, and wondered if this was the moment she would reveal that she knew she was his daughter.

Then he watched as she hesitated and shook her head. “It’s a long story, uh, and one of which you don’t need to know all the details. But if you just come with me….”

He nodded immediately. “Yeah, no, of course. I mean, it sounds urgent.”

They stared at each other for a second, and he watched as Nancy tried to blink away the tears that had pooled in her eyes. He felt his resolve breaking before taking a deep breath and deciding to take a leap of faith.

“Do you need me because I’m your father?”

Part 2

#cw nancy drew #nancy drew fanfiction #nancy drew #ndcentral #nancy x ace #nancy drew & ryan hudson #younger nancy drew #teenage nancy drew au #time period au #part 1

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imagine-loki · 3 years

Text

Hiding In Plain Sight

TITLE: Hiding in Plain Sight CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 7 AUTHOR: wolfpawn ORIGINAL IMAGINE:Imagine coming from a line of nobility or royalty and being in an arranged marriage with Loki in an attempt to strengthen your kingdom / alliance with Asgard. You’re not entirely on board with the idea but figured that the best you could do was to get to know your fiancé.You form an agreement with Frigga for you to pose as Loki’s personal servant for a few months so you can get to know who Loki really is – beyond the veil of his responsibility to the Asgardian throne, behind all the masks he wears when facing the public, to really know who Loki is behind closed doors as you slowly fall for each other.How long will you keep up the ruse with the God of Lies? RATING: General Audience

Loki walked out of the room without saying another word. Raven suspected that he was heading straight to his mother so to discuss the matter he had just been made aware of. She could see the anger and irritation in his features but as it stood, she also felt a lot of emotions herself and the information that had been thrust upon her also. A month, so long a time yet so very very little also. In a month, she would be wed to a being that, at best, was barely tolerant of her and that was before he would be told of her true identity. She was starting to realise that would be a concern. The more she learnt of Loki, the more she realised that this was not going to go well.

She spent time contemplating what she would need to do, barely realising that in her stress, she was simply rubbing down a desk in slow circles with no major purpose over and over.

“If you do that any longer, you will have sanded through the wood.” She turned to see a flustered Loki looking at her. “Actually, you have removed the polish, what agents have you used?” He walked over to study the wood. “I...is that oak? I thought this was pine?”

“Pine paint over oak,” she explained, looking at the lighter wood underneath. “I don’t know why someone would paint over a more expensive wood, but they did.” Her voice was emotionless.

“Why are you so bothered? Have you been sentenced to the gallows also?”

“I think so.”

“I have been told Tatiana, my normal maid is to return tomorrow, is that what this is about? Are they mistreating you in your original department?” Loki asked.

Through the fog of sadness at the situation, Raven was startled that he would even care enough to ask. “No, I just...I have a lot I have to consider in my own life at this time. Sorry.”

Loki did not let her pass as she tried to evade him. “No, if there is something afoot, you need to inform your superiors, this house will not stand for bullying or such.”

“I am sure you have enough to be worrying about with your own troubles, considering the news you were dealt today.”

“That is hardly the most startling news in the world, I have known about this betrothal for a considerable time but if you are being accosted in some manner, this needs to be dealt with.”

That resonated with Raven. She could tell he was anything but pleased with his news, yet was concerned for her. “No, I am not being bullied or mistreated, thank you, your highness.”

“You can say if you are.” He didn’t sound as pushy as before, trying to get information from her. “If anyone is bothering you over being an elf here…”

That caused Raven to frown slightly. “A tad ironic you would say that when the only two to speak ill of elves near me is your paramour and what she recited as being said by yourself. None other has been bothered by such.”

Loki sighed. “Well, I am glad that there is not a wider issue. As I stated before, I was merely venting when I spoke ill of Light Elves. I...I actually have admiration for them.” Raven eyed him sceptically. “They possess the most seidr and medicinal knowledge in the realms, that is commendable.”

“You called us unintelligent.”

“No, I never said that particular word. I stated that the princess will be subservient, not unintelligent. Since that is how she is raised.”

“She is strong-minded, I told you such already or do you think me lying?”

“How can she be when she is not allowed to do much?”

“That does not automatically equate to subservient though, does it?”

“I suppose not. I just assumed with the Light Elf attitude to daughters…”

“What is Asgard’s attitude to royal daughters?”

“I am not sure, there has not been one in a few generations.” Loki paused. “Why is it very few realms have princesses, actually?”

“Maybe there’s some sort of attempt to not have them? No one seems to want to have any.”

“It’s not exactly like you can decide,” Loki commented. “I suppose as the Princess is the first female in a few generations too, that may...though it is though the male line such things occur.” Loki thought aloud to himself more than Raven.

“Why do you not call her by her name?” Raven asked. “If you are to marry her, it seems only right to actually acknowledge her by her name.”

Loki paused to consider her question. “I rather not.”

“Why?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It will in a month.”

“Then I will deal with it in a month.”

Raven wanted to know why even saying her name was too much for him but insulted and hurt and attempting to deal with her own situation, she said nothing more on that matter. “I better continue to remove the varnish from that desk, I guess. If you need anything…”

“I will deal with that. I need you to…” Loki looked around. “I am not sure what to ask you to do. I suppose I better use these last few hours to see what I can learn about her.”

“When is the princess arriving?”

“In two days, apparently.”

Raven nodded at the information having not been told that herself. The last thing she wanted to do was talk about herself in the third person but she knew that to not do so now would raise suspicion. “It appears you need to deal with it far sooner than a month so, calling the Princess by her correct name.”

“Why do you feel that to be the pertinent concern?”

“It will not bode well if you cannot call her by her name. Think of how insulted she would be.”

“Is that the sort of thing that would insult her?” Loki queried. “Of all the matters in the realms, that is what she concerns herself with?”

“She is to be your wife and you cannot even have the decency to speak her name. What if she knew about what you said here right now? What if she were to hear this conversation between us, how could you justify this to her?” Raven challenged, angered at the lack of respect he had for her. “Perhaps with Tatiana’s return being so imminent, I should take my leave. You don’t want to learn about her. I merely suggest that you to refer to her by her name which I would think she would like and you are refusing to. You’re not even willing to do that much so I am not going to waste my time even trying to help you. You don’t care.” Raven was not one to get overly emotional but she was irate at how he would not even say her name when he did not realise it was her. Angered, she walked out of the rooms without so much as another word.

Loki stood staring at the spot his maid had occupied a moment before, flabbergasted that anyone, much less an employee of the palace, would speak to him in such a manner. He did not know how to process what she said. He thought little of saying Princess Raven’s name yet his maid saw it as something to be concerned over. He thought it something farcical to get so bothered by yet she seemed almost hysterical at it. For a moment, he thought to put it down to some odd female thing but he stopped and knew better than to do so. He knew enough of anatomy to know that was a dismissal of genuine matters by lesser men who did not like women speaking to them in manners they disliked. Looking around, he waved his hand to clean his rooms using his seidr. Sometimes he wondered why he even had chamber staff, he could do everything he needed himself. It would cause far fewer issues if he had none. When he heard the chamber door open, for a brief moment, he thought it was the elf returning to apologise for her irrational behaviour but he recognised the heavy footfalls of his brother quickly. “Go away.”

“Brother, I see you are in a good mood after your news,” Thor goaded. Folding his arms, he smiled at his brother. “I am curious to know, what did you say to the poor elf that stormed out of here not a moment ago?”

“That is none of your concern,” Loki snarled. “What do you want?”

“If that is how you spoke to her, no wonder she rushed off, the poor thing.” Thor shook his head. “What did you say to her?”

“Again, that is not your concern.” Loki glared at him. “Why are you so bothered, anyway?”

Thor merely smirked in response. “Call it curiosity.”

Loki eyed him warily. “What do you know?”

“Many more things than you think. But in regards to that maid, I know that mother brought her to your rooms to have you learn something of elves before this marriage came about, and I think it is safe to say, you have learnt little to nothing of their sensitive nature.”

“Sensitive?”

“Yes, elves are sensitive. Have you been blinded to the anxiety you caused that poor elf as you made her feel so angered she had to run off?”

Loki did not respond.

Even though he knew that it would be farcical when Loki realised who the elf that was in his rooms the past few weeks was, Thor could not help the almost excited feeling he was getting at the idea of Loki’s strops causing him to get a comeuppance.

Raven moved her belongings out of her room with as much haste as she could. She had been told by Frigga that her new quarters were ready for her so changing out of the employee’s attire, she got her belongings together and moved them to her new room which was in the guest area. She knew there was little chance of Loki finding her there as he was not expecting her for another few days. She did not want to risk him coming to her room again and trying to talk to her. As it stood, she felt she needed to ready herself for what was to come and prepare for the life she was about to lead. Though she wanted to ignore a lot of his good attributes, she knew the only way to build an accurate analysis of her husband-to-be was to do so. She could not deny there was a kindness to him but that did not negate the downsides of his character too.

"Loki?” He sighed as he turned to face his mother. “Where is your maid?”

“I relieved her of her duties.”

“Is there a particular reason for such?” Frigga asked, feigning ignorance, long knowing that Raven was in her new quarters, having gotten one of her maids to tend to her for the next two days so that she would not be seen around the palace. “Was she not to your liking?”

Loki huffed a small scoff. “She was a tad, shall we call it, opinionated. I was under the impression elvish women were quiet.”

“I hope you did not speak in such a manner to her.” Frigga was beginning to regret her scheme of allowing Raven to get to know Loki as she did. “Loki…?”

“I was not so blunt but I did discuss the matter with her, also, due to her working here, I did not want her to be reprimanded elsewhere for such.”

Frigga signed and rolled her eyes, knowing that she would have to attempt to deal with the matter when she spoke to Raven, seeing that she would not have had much of a chance to see Loki’s more redeeming characteristics if this was how he treated her. “Oh, Loki.”

Loki studied his mother’s features carefully, noting the regret in her face. “Is this because you feel sorry for that elf having to endure me?” She looked at him plainly, no sign of emotions on her face. “Or is there something more?”

Frigga stared her son in the eyes at that comment. “I am embarrassed.” She declared. “I am embarrassed that you, Loki Odinson, my son, treated a woman so appallingly. I am embarrassed that come the arrival of the Light Elves in the next few days, there is a high chance that you will do so again.”

“I will not.” Loki retorted.

“How pray tell, am I supposed to believe that?” His mother challenged. “Norns, that poor girl. That poor elf, to think you treated her so. I only hope she can see past it.”

#Loki #Others #Submission #Submitted Fic #Chapter 7 #Hiding In Plain Sight #wolfpawn

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moonbeamsung · 3 years

Text

CRΣΣKS

Love, a second glance, it is not something that we need.

member: jeno

au: guardian angel in disguise!jeno x gn!reader, guardian angel au

word count: 3.4k

genre: angst

warnings: character death/loss, profanity, no happy ending, mentions of religion, questioning/loss of faith

recommended song: 715 - CRΣΣKS by the nor’easters

author’s note: Please be very careful with volume when listening to the song (above) that inspired this story! But even without reading the lyrics/listening, the fic will still make sense, and happy reading :)

network tags: @kpopscape @neo-constellations @starryktown

The wind is whistling, weaving in and out of the tall river reeds like an invisible needle and thread, stitching itself into each and every crevice of the world’s gift called nature.

Another one of its many gifts is the young boy that’s resting beside a rushing brook, toes dipped into the cool water and face illuminated by the sun as it beats down onto the earth with celestial strength.

Well, a gift from the heavens, that is.

Sent from the endless skies above, Jeno is your guardian angel, assigned with posing as a humble peasant boy in the village, all to keep a watchful eye on you from afar. In his human form, he spends his days wandering the cobblestone roads and narrow alleyways between the quaint buildings, with no family to return home to at dusk. A sunny meadow on the outskirts of town becomes his home, and he takes refuge in the shelter that the overgrown grass provides.

Everything is going smoothly, and he’s doing his job just as he should be. It’s routine now, waking up and rising from his earthen mattress, curtains of copious plant leaves letting in the sun’s rays. He finds you, observes at a comfortable distance, and that’s that. At its core, being a guardian is really an easy job. A predictable one.

A monotonous one.

Until one day you approach him, youthful eagerness in your eyes piercing and nearly painful, even to his invulnerable body. He’s never seen you up close before, only on the near horizon as you’ve gone about your daily chores, tending to the housework just like any obedient child should.

“...Who are you?”

Now, Jeno is faced with a decision more challenging than any that us mortal beings have to make in our entire lives. Engaging with one’s assignment is an extremely dangerous path to take. Unimaginable punishments await, should the guardian make a wrong choice. But Jeno was careless, and he had allowed himself to be discovered by the only human on Earth that the divine forces permit him to be seen by.

He makes the fatal error of answering you, ultimately shattering a future he’ll never get to live out, one that he doesn’t even know he would’ve had. Like a sharp rock being thrown at a church’s stained glass window, the meticulously carved pieces of his worldly existence fall to the ground with a deafening crash, broken beyond repair.

“I’m Jeno,” the strikingly majestic cadence of his words is like that of angel trumpets, the sound ringing in your head and making you dizzy with both fascination and infatuation.

And just like that, in three short syllables, you’re both fated to fall before you can even spread your wings.

From the moment you hear his name tumble from those beautiful lips, you’re hooked, and he knows it. He sees it in the way you look at him, in the way you act, the way you talk. A child experiencing a first and a forbidden love all at once.

It breaks his heart, because he knows it can’t, and shouldn’t last. The churning rapids of the creek nearby weep for him, for they know that in a matter of just a few short years, their waters are destined to mix with the salty tears that will steadily cascade from your trembling chin.

Jeno remembers, although vaguely, the brief amount of time he spent living amongst the clouds, being prepared by the heavenly elders for this expedition of a lifetime, quite literally. He remembers the scriptures, the strictures, and all the times he’s been warned of the severe consequences that come with immorality.

But even the purest of young angels aren’t infallible, still susceptible to compulsions that lead them to sin and defy their creator.

Relishing in the fading daylight, you join him by the water’s edge, listening to his soothing tone as he answers your ceaseless inquiries with harmless little lies as white as heavenly robes and cherub wings.

Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor. The first sin.

It’s interesting, he thinks, that despite looking after you in the endeavors of your youth for quite a while now, he knows next to nothing about who you truly are. Actions may speak louder than words, but how can he know that if he’s never heard your voice to begin with?

As the quiet, languid conversation shifts from his purpose there to yours, Jeno learns that you’re very content with your life, taking pride in helping your family with daily tasks as well as assisting your neighbors in the close-knit village with theirs.

Just then, all the smears of dirt and scattered scratches adorning your face catch his attention, gained after hours of hard work. No amount of water is ever enough to scrub them off of your skin at the end of the day, no matter how hard you try. Sometimes, you feel tears prick your eyes as you try to fall asleep at night, frustrated with your lowly appearance and how it never seems to match your relatively optimistic outlook on life.

But Jeno doesn’t care. You’re breathtaking even in his eyes, the eyes that belong to an actual angel. If that fact alone isn’t enough to boost your confidence, he doesn’t know what else possibly could.

Like a fool, he lets himself drown in your sublimity for a moment, marveling at the ethereal glow of the sun on your smooth, ageless face. The faint noise of wisps of air blowing gently through the meadow and rustling the flora makes him drowsy, but the sight of a pure white heron landing gracefully on the opposite side of the riverbank brings him back to full consciousness in an instant.

The bird, an omen of sorts, had been sent down from Heaven, conjured up from a fleeting idea and into a physical reality, by the holy beings looking down upon the earth, indicating that they’re well aware of the threat he poses and just how close he is to making an irreversible mistake in regards to you, his assignment and assignment only.

The heron abruptly unfurls its delicately feathered wings, as if frightened, before taking off and floating away on the breeze, both of your gazes inexplicably drawn to it as it flies until it’s out of sight altogether.

It warns him of just what he’s messing with, exactly.

This is not a part of the creator’s plan for you, for him. Falling in love with the one an angel is supposed to guard is an appalling crime to commit in the eyes of the elders that inhabit the sky, in the eyes of God. Though it doesn’t explicitly go against a commandment or biblical law, it’s just an understood rule. It’s wrong.

Jeno tells himself this, and continues to do so over the many years that he looks after you, never acting on his emotions, only acknowledging them before sending the less-than-acceptable thoughts into the depths of his conscious mind. He only wishes he had a key to lock them up and forget he even felt them in the first place.

Even as an angel, he ages just like anyone else, the both of you going from kids to teenagers and then nearing the young-adult stage of life, with you remaining blissfully unaware of Jeno’s true identity all the while. It’s a miracle he’s managed to keep his secret for this long, honestly, but like grains of sand in an hourglass, your time together is running out, whether you like it or not.

Not even a year before your entire world, your entire reality comes undone before your very eyes, Jeno feels as if his has already done just that. Because you’ve found someone. And that someone isn’t him.

He hates the feeling of jealousy, despises it with every fiber of his heavenly being. But he can’t shake it, can’t bear the way it clings to him like an unwelcome visitor. An unrecognizable emotion, one so foreign that he can’t even put a name to it, is stirred up at the sight of you in their arms, so pure and so unworthy of this person. Boy, if he didn’t know any better, Jeno would swear that you were the angel.

With each day that passes, he begins to feel the final shreds of both his dignity and his self-control slipping away, lost to the familiar breeze that whips through the village, stronger than ever these days. He can no longer contain it within himself. He wants you.

Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s goods. The second sin.

How ironic that a Sunday, of all days, is when everything falls apart.

The sun is hanging low in the sky, just barely grazing the horizon with its bright beams of warmth as it steadily rises, bathing the world in a soft yellow glow. You can also see the moon leftover from the night that ended not so long ago, fading fast but visible nonetheless. Two complete opposites, so close but prevented by the laws of nature for coexisting in the same space, at the same time.

Maybe, just maybe, if you knew just how much you had in common with the celestial objects above, you would have clutched the hand of Jeno a bit tighter yesterday, intertwined your fingers a little more closely with those of someone who had become the closest thing to a best friend that you had ever known. You admit that you wish he could be something more, but you know better than to push your limits.

You got tired of waiting to see if he felt the same way, choosing to fill the void with someone else that you liked, yes, but who just wasn’t the same as the boy who had always been there, waiting in the meadow every morning without fail. Still, your emotions are ever-alert and always searching for any sign of reciprocation within Jeno.

He’s nowhere to be found when you reach the water’s edge, the edge of the creek where you wasted away endless summer days and frosty winter nights, colorful spring afternoons and brisk autumn evenings.

This morning would seem no different than the rest if not for his absence. The knot in your heart loosens, but not by much, when you spot him at the forest’s edge, looking weary.

Jeno notices you and calls out your name with a smile, but something about it isn’t genuine. It’s pained, desperate, like he wants to hold onto this moment forever, unwilling to carry out the plan he’s already regretting. It’s too late now, he thinks to himself, but he’s wrong.

It’s been too late for years.

“Jeno?”

“This way!” He chokes out. It’s somewhere between a sob and a plea, but there’s no time to figure out which is the more appropriate term. He disappears between the trees and amidst their mossy branches, blending in with the shadows cast by the thick canopy of leaves, and you break into a sprint, afraid of losing him to the merciless wilderness and what lies within.

Thankfully, he’s not too far gone. A small clearing greets you less than a dozen strides in, and in the very center of it stands a glass gazebo, run-down and covered in so many twisting vines to the point where the small structure is almost fully consumed by the nature surrounding it.

The scene is beautiful, so much so that it makes you uneasy. What’s going on? Why did he bring you here? Why does he seem so sad? Jeno is never sad, maybe he could be described as brooding or solemn on the rarest of occasions, but never this melancholy, never so utterly hopeless in his expressions and his aura.

None of these questions are answered, even as he takes your hands in his own and leads you inside of the gazebo, its see-through panels catching the light with elegance and ease.

“I need to tell you something.” Just like it did the first time you heard it, his voice still shocks you like a bolt of electricity, your blood pressure and heart rate skyrocketing. All of this is heightened, though, by grim tone he’s speaking to you with.

“What is it, Jen?” There it is. The nickname you made up for him that, although simple, makes him feel like he’s on top of the world. Actually, scratch that: it makes him feel like he’s floating in the sky, up past the clouds and even further away from this cruel planet than the heavens are from Hell.

You’re only making this harder for him. He might as well just spit it out, because all this waiting is agonizing for the both of you.

“We... we can’t be together.”

The sentence that leaves his lips is two declarations wrapped up in one singular statement, the first being that he wants to be with you in the same way you want to be with him. It’s much too hopeful, misleading your emotions down a path of elation instead of dread. The second is unpleasant, a bitter taste lingering on his tongue once he says the words.

“...Yes, yes we can, Jen, because I don’t really love them and all this time it’s been you—”

“You don’t understand,” he tries to stop the confession spilling out from your heart before it overflows, drowns you. “I’m not who you think I am.”

Stunned to silence, he gives you a moment to drink in the implications of his words. “...I’ve known you for over half of my entire life, and you’re trying to tell me I have no idea who you really are? Not a chance,” you laugh softly, shaking your head and glancing down at the wooden gazebo floor, old white paint peeling under your feet.

“But haven’t you ever wondered why I’m always there by the creek every morning? How I turn up throughout your day at the perfect time? How I’m suddenly right by your side when you need me the most?”

You have wondered. Many times, in fact. But the possibility of him being anything other than human was not at the top of your very rational list.

“...Don’t you see? I’m your guardian angel.”

He sees you blink, realization dawning on your face like the sun and stretching your features. “There are laws—” He begins, but your reaction is not the one he anticipated you would have to that information.

Too overwhelmed, you can’t respond with anything other than physical actions, no matter how unreasonable, and you press your dry lips to his soft ones, sealing your fate. Standing there, with beams of golden light infiltrating the space and illuminating your unsteady figures, Jeno is petrified not by your kiss, but by the fact that he doesn’t push you away, and his hands hold onto yours even tighter than before. Nothing has ever felt so right in his entire life. Not when he was in Heaven, and not in all the years he’s spent on Earth, either.

You’re his Heaven, this moment is his eternity. Jeno has endured enough temptation, the undeniable thrill that a deliberate sin promises has become too much for him. If he pulls away now, everything would still be okay, you could both go back to normal and pretend this never happened. But alas, he was doomed to kiss you back from the beginning, and so he does, and you have no idea what the universe has in store when you feel his lips finally respond to yours in the most unholy way possible. For the first and last time, you indulge in each other’s touch and taste, and it does not please the ones watching from above.

The third and final sin, one sin too many for him to remain in this world without consequence.

Several things happen all at once. A clap of thunder sounds overhead, though there are no clouds in sight. Jeno is painfully ripped from your grasp and thrown out of the gazebo by some invisible force of nature, into the grass and dirt on the forest floor.

And inside of you, a piece of your soul is torn from your being, bile rising up in your throat as you comprehend the excruciating sensation that racks your body with pained whimpers.

Stumbling to his feet, Jeno heaves, hunched over and close to tears. Suppressing the agony you still feel, you hurry over to him only for the boy to charge away, heading back towards the open meadow. With a broken shout of his name, you follow.

You didn’t notice before, but now the blinding light reveals the condition he’s in. He looks almost normal, but the edges of his form are becoming fainter by the minute, blurring with the rest of the world around him. He’s fading away before your eyes, and it’s all your fault.

It’s a torturous experience, watching him slowly meld with the emptiness of the air. Making him disappear into thin air in an instant would have been an act of mercy, a mercy that’s apparently beyond the capabilities of the spectators in the sky.

Struggling to maintain your composure, you force a question out. “What’s happening?” You ask, though you know he doesn’t have an answer himself.

He’s obviously panicked, though he tries not to show it. “I... I don’t know, I knew that it was forbidden for us to fall in love but I didn’t think I’d be robbed of my existence like this...”

“What?! No, Jeno, please don’t go...” You beg the gods and angels above, if any exist. You don’t know anymore.

If there is a God, how can he be good if he’s taking Jeno away from you like this, depriving you of the one constant source of joy and comfort in your life?

It’s far too cruel to bestow such a kind and generous heart upon someone who isn’t allowed to love in the first place.

Even Jeno’s touch is faint, making you feel like he’s not there at all. You just barely detect the pads of his fingers smoothing over your cheeks, trying to stop the water spilling from your eyes. He smiles sadly, “Don’t cry for me. I’m not worth the tears.”

“You’re everything to me, Jeno. You’re worth every drop.”

“Remember me like this, okay? By the creek,” he gestures to the turbulent waters a short distance away. Walking slowly, he begins to take steps in its direction, but as he speeds up you’re no longer able to match his pace. “Jeno, turn around...”

Glancing back at you for the final time, he whispers a goodbye that the breeze carries away with it, the sound something only the two of you would hear, one that could never be replicated.

“Goddamnit, Jeno, don’t you dare leave me!” But you know you can’t hold on, you’re not strong enough. A greater force wants you two apart, unable to be overpowered by one human, a relatively insignificant being in the grand scheme of the universe. He vanishes completely.

You fall to your knees, the pain from the pebbles digging into your legs and feet underneath the surface of the creek numbed by your sorrow. The water drenches your clothes, splashing up onto your skin and becoming one with your relentless tears. You’re left all alone, with only the cattails to keep you company. You wish the waves would just swallow you whole so you don’t have to feel this suffocating isolation.

In an unnecessarily harsh trick of the light combined with the dancing shadows generated by the water, you swear that you see Jeno again for a second, sitting on the riverbank like always. You sob louder.

It takes forever for you to find the strength to stand up again, water running over your soaked shoes and threatening to topple you over. You wouldn’t mind if it succeeds.

Inconsolable even to your closest friends and family, you reluctantly return to the village, unwilling to leave behind what you’ve just been through and unable to explain just why you’re crying so hard. Maybe if you stay there forever, spending each day and night waiting among the reeds and the flowers and the grass, he’ll come back someday, but no. He’ll never return, but you simply can’t bring yourself to accept this fact.

You’re never quite the same after that. Part of the curse that haunts you for the rest of your life is this: no matter how hard you try to retain your memories, you’re destined to forget Jeno eventually, leaving vast gaps in your brain when it comes to the years of your youth.

You’re left with only a feeling of inexplicable nostalgia at the sight of the meadow and the creek running through it, the waters still as violent as they were on the day you lost him.

98 notes · View notes

emy-loves-you · 3 years

Text

Sweet Tooth

AKA 3 times Patton gave away his lollipops, and one time he took them back.

DLMR (Janus/Logan/Patton/Remus), Patton POV

Word Count: 3,768

Thank you to everyone that helped with this fic (especially @cute-and-angsty-princess for coming up with the original idea!)

Masterlist

The first time was a complete accident.

Patton had always had a love for sweets. Candies specifically. Jellybeans, chocolate bars, gumdrops, you name it. He loved every sugary treat Thomas had ever eaten, and he always had a few candies in his pocket just in case. It’s always a different candy each time. Somedays he’ll have Hershey kisses to eat between recordings, other days he'll have a pack of bubble gum to chew on and blow pretty pink bubbles.

Today, he had lollipops.

Patton vividly remembered these lollipops as a reward for doing his job well. Every time that Thomas did good at the doctor’s office or behaved in certain restaurants, his parents would get him a tiny flavored lollipop to suck on. They were overly sweet and just the right size, and every time Thomas had one Patton would be flooded with happiness because he did a good job.

And Patton felt like he deserved a lollipop today. Thomas had been struggling with a moral dilemma, and Patton had done his best to stand his ground without being pushy. It was difficult for Patton to find the middle ground between compliant and overbearing, but he was getting better at it with Janus’ help.

So here Patton was, sitting on the couch, a green apple lollipop in his mouth. He changed the flavor a little when he summoned it, so it was the perfect mix of sweet and bitter. He also made sure there was enough food coloring in it to stain his lips the prettiest shade of green.

(It had absolutely nothing to do with Remus giving Patton such a dazzling smile when he supported the dark side’s tamer ideas today. And it definitely had nothing to do with how Patton had wondered it the creative side’s lips would taste sweet or bitter, or if he’d still be able to feel them on his lips after they kissed, like the green color that stained his lips. Nope, not at all)

Anyways, here Patton was, enjoying a lollipop for a job well done. He was also updating a few of his scrapbooks, since he hadn’t done it in a while (a while being 2 weeks, but there were so many new memories to add, and so many old memories to look over and reminisce). He had just finished gluing the last photo in place when-

“BOOBS!”

Patton shrieked, though it was more amusement than fear, as he jumped off the couch. Remus had popped up on the other side, chuckling as the moral side regained his composure. “I got you this time Daddy-O!”

Patton giggled, sitting up. Ever since Remus had been accepted, Patton had grown used to his disturbing imagery and tendency to pop up anywhere. Remus had seen that as a challenge, and now tried to scare Patton whenever he could (Patton didn’t think he was trying very hard though, especially since he never used spiders and the goriest thing he used was a ‘beating heart’ made entirely out of cherry-flavored gummies).

Remus huffed, crossing his arms. “I did! I saw the fear in your eyes! I could smell your fear, from the top of your head to the tip of your-” He suddenly stopped, looking over at the table. “What’s that?”

Patton looked over and smiled around his lollipop. “Oh! It’s my scrapbook.” He got up and went to flip through it but Remus stopped him, just looking at the current page. He pointed to a picture of Remus and Roman working on an idea together, but the photo was obviously more focused on the green-clad twin. He was doing something that required careful precision, and his nose was scrunched up slightly while the tip of his tongue was peeking out under his mustache.

Remus had an odd expression on his face while he looked at the photo. “...I didn’t realize you were there.”

Patton blushed, looking away. “Well that’s the point, silly! It wouldn’t have been real if you were posing for it.”

He kept that same odd expression as he started at the photo. “I guess you’re right…” He suddenly looked up, staring at Patton with that same look on his face. “What’s with the new lipstick?”

Patton frowned. “My new lip- oh!” He pulled his lollipop out and gestured with it. “It’s just my lollipop. I guess it stained more than I thought it wou- eep!”

Remus suddenly took the lollipop into his mouth, his mustache brushing against Patton’s fingers before he pulled away, taking the lollipop with him. The dark sides hummed, pulling the candy out of his mouth with a loud pop! “Green apple, my favorite! Thanks Pattypop!”

Before Patton could even think about forming words, Remus had sunk out, presumably to go enjoy the rest of the lollipop. Patton let out a strangled squeak and got up, grabbing his scrapbook and rushing back to his room.

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The second time was technically accidental.

It had been 3 days since what Patton had dubbed the “Apple Accident,” and he was now able to look Remus in the eye without turning into a blushing mess. It helped that Remus never mentioned the incident, being his normal chaotic self and acting like it never happened.

It was now just after midnight and Patton was searching through the cabinets for a late night snack. Technically he could summon a treat for himself, but he was tired and just wanted to explore the kitchen and see what he could find. He was thankful that no one was awake this late into the night, so they couldn’t walk in and see how red the father figment’s cheeks were from blushing.

He had just woken up a few minutes ago from a rather interesting (and unfortunately recurring) dream. It wasn’t anything… risqué, but it was still mortifying. It always started with Patton alone in a flower field, making flower crowns. He would be halfway done with his crown before one of his crushes joined him. Usually it was just one crush, but sometimes it was two or all three of them. And Patton would lean forward for a kiss just moments before he woke up, his heart racing. This most recent one had been a little different, ending with a yellow lollipop being gently tugged from his mouth and a gloved hand cupping his cheek-

Patton shook his head, blushing hard. He came downstairs to forget about that! He just wanted to grab a treat and ignore the way his heart pounded at the thought of-

Oh. My. Gosh.

At the top of the candy drawer was a lemon-flavored lollipop. He must’ve put it there when he refilled it yesterday. Patton tentatively took the lollipop out of the drawer, the small candy suddenly feeling much more important than usual. He shouldn’t…

Patton ripped off the wrapper and quickly put it into his mouth, sighing softly as the sweet-yet-sour flavor assaulted his senses. He felt like he was doing something forbidden, and that only added to the pleasure.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

Patton jumped and spun around to see Janus in the doorway. He tasted the lollipop on his tongue and suddenly felt like a kid caught stealing from the cookie jar. “Janus! What are you doing up so late?” He suddenly remembered the dream he had and was thankful that the dim lighting of the kitchen hid his blush.

If the deceitful side noticed his gay panicking, he didn’t mention it. “I was just looking for something sweet to have. A little bit of self-indulgence before bed.” He stepped closer, and Patton noticed his attire. Janus was wearing a pair of silk black pajamas, just a size too big so the sleeves were loose and the collar dipped down to expose part of his chest. Pale yellow-green scales ran down his neck and chest, even stretching to the tips of his fingers on his left hand. It was almost mind-boggling to just see Janus without his hat and gloves, much less the rest of his usual outfit. Patton was starting to wonder if the scales covered exactly half of his body or if they formed some sort of pattern under his shirt when Janus spoke up. “Lemon?”

Patton looked up from where he was staring at Janus’ collarbone, his blush growing deeper as he cleared his throat. “Pardon?”

Janus took another step closer, sticking his tongue out again to scent the air around him (which Patton found extremely adorable). “Is that lollipop lemon-flavored? If so, where can I find another one?”

“Oh! Yes it is! I uh-” Patton thought back to the candy drawer behind him. It might have another lemon lollipop, but Patton wasn’t sure. And if it was the only one, then the only way he could have one would be- “I’m pretty sure this is the only one.”

If Janus noticed the lie, he didn’t mention it. Instead, he stepped closer, causing Patton to scoot back as far as he could against the counter. Janus smirked, slinking closer until he was inches away from him. “Well then...” He reached up to cup his jaw, the smooth scales on his hand feeling like electricity to the moral side. “...I guess I’ll just have to…” His other hand tugged lightly on the lollipop. ��...take it.”

Patton’s heart was racing as he opened his mouth, letting the lollipop easily slide out. He tilted his head slightly, waiting to be pulled closer, ready to be kissed-

Patton didn’t realize that his eyes were closed until Janus pulled away. He opened his eyes to see Janus smirking, the yellow lollipop pressed against his scaled lips. Patton held his breath as the dark side wrapped his snake-like tongue around the lollipop and pulled it into his mouth, pulling a breathless gasp from the moral side. “Mmmh, sweet, just how I like it. And the lollipop’s good too, I guess.” Patton squeaked, blushing hard as Janus chuckled. “Goodnight, Sweet Heart.” Patton opened his mouth to respond, but he had already sunk out.

Patton stood in the kitchen for several minutes, just staring at the spot Janus had been in. His fingers reached up to trace his lower lip, the lemony sweet-yet-sour flavor still fresh on his tongue. He let out one last squeak before sinking out to his room, burying his face into his pillow and screaming.

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The third time was entirely on purpose.

It was the morning after his encounter with Janus and Patton was still feeling… something (bold, flirtatious, flustered? He couldn’t tell). So when the opportunity for another… interesting experience with lollipops arose, the father figment couldn’t resist.

Breakfast was over and almost everyone had left to start their day. Remus and Roman were in the imagination, Virgil was hanging out in his room, and Janus had left to go help Thomas have a full self-care day. Patton had just finished doing the dishes and was currently sucking on a cherry-flavored lollipop (he’d become addicted to lollipops recently. It had nothing to do with the two flirtatious encounters he had surrounding lollipops. Nope, not at all). Patton was sitting on the countertop while Logan moved around the kitchen, presumably getting his morning coffee before leaving. Patton was shocked that instead of turning on the coffee pot like expected, Logan opened up one of the lower cabinets and started digging through it. “Uh, Lo? What are you doing?”

The logical side grunted, trying to dig through the piles of pots and pans. “I’ve come to realize that my… fondness towards coffee is negatively impacting Thomas, Virgil, and myself in terms of overall anxiety and degree of focus. Janus suggested an alternative form of caffeine consumption.” He grunted again before grinning in triumph, turning to show Patton the tea kettle he’d found. “Some green tea with honey should be a good substitute for my normal coffee.” Patton then remembered four things at once:

There was no honey in the kitchen because he used it all this morning to make honey biscuits

When Thomas was younger he did a project on candy and learned that the first lollipops were just honey on a stick, which are called honey spoons and are used to sweeten tea

Logan is Patton’s third crush, and the only crush he hasn’t had a flirtatious lollipop moment with

Patton was still sucking on a cherry lollipop

Patton quickly waved his hand while Logan wasn’t looking, removing any traces of cherry and replacing it with a honey spoon. “Well, I know we used the rest of the liquid honey to make breakfast, but I do know where a honey spoon is.”

Logan turned back to face him, smiling gratefully. “Thank you Patton, I really appreciate it.” When Patton didn’t move to grab anything, he tilted his head in confusion. “Uh, where exactly is this honey spoon?”

Patton put on his most innocent expression. “Oh! It’s right here!” He pointed to the honey spoon in his mouth, the sweet treat starting to melt across his tongue. “As long as you’re fine with sharing with me.”

Logan blushed, clearing his throat as he adjusted his tie. “I...I could just summon another one…”

Patton tilted his head to the side, trying not to let his smirk show. “You could. Or…” He leaned forwards slightly, maintaining eye contact the entire time. “You could take mine.”

The logical side stepped forward, looking lost as he reached out but didn’t grab the honey spoon. Patton pulled it out with a soft pop, honey smearing across his lips as he handed over the treat. Logan went to grab the stick and their hands briefly touched, both of them shuddering from the contact. Logan sounded slightly breathless as he stepped back, pulling the honey spoon with him. “Thank you, Hon- I mean! Thank you for the honey, Patton.”

Patton smiled dazedly, his heart melted like the leftover honey on his tongue. “No problem! And Lo? I’d like it if you called me that again.” He quickly sunk out before he could see Logan’s reaction, popping up in his room. He squeaked as he realized what he just did and buried his face into his pillow, ignoring the blush on his cheeks.

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Things were starting to get out of hand.

It’s been a week since Patton handed over his first honey spoon to Logan, and a sort of competition has started to form. The rules were simple: if Patton was alone with a lollipop that corresponded with the side in question (green apple for Remus, lemon for Janus, honey spoon for Logan), that side takes it, and shows said lollipop off to the other two sides (Patton didn’t even realize that last part until he walked in on Remus showing off his freshly-stolen lollipop to Janus). Patton almost always had lollipops on him by this point, since at least one of them would show up every hour to snatch one in their own way. Patton had even altered the lollipops to the way they preferred them!

Remus liked his lollipops to be drenched in food coloring, so it stained his (and subsequently Patton’s) lips and tongue for hours, even after just a few minutes of eating it. The creative side would pop in and try to scare Patton like he always did. Then he would mess with the moral side for a few minutes before asking what flavor the lollipop was (he didn’t even need to ask that, Patton’s lips were always shamrock green when he had Remus’ lollipop). Instead of offering the green apple lollipop in his pocket, Patton would take it out and start gesturing with it. Then, when Patton was in the middle of a sentence, Remus would grab the treat with his mouth, his mustache (and sometimes lips) brushing against Patton’s fingertips before pulling away, taking the candy with him.

Janus liked his lollipops to have a really strong flavoring, so the taste lingered for hours after you tasted it. He would saunter into the room and make up an excuse about needing some candy for ‘self-care’ before asking if Patton had another one. Patton would ignore the lemon lollipop sitting in his pocket and lie, saying that this was the only one he had. Janus would then slither up to him, cup his cheek with one hand and gently pry the lollipop out of his mouth with the other. Then he would take it while commenting that it’s “not as sweet as you.”

Logan liked his honey spoons to easily melt into his drink, so when Patton handed it over there was a sticky trail of honey along his lips. He would always appear with a new mug of tea, spend a few moments chatting about what happened last time he saw Patton, and then shyly ask with a blush if the father figment could share his honey spoon. Patton would always end up getting honey on his lips as he handed it over, and they would both blush as their fingers touched before Logan stirred his tea and left.

Patton knew that he should end this game, but he couldn’t. Every exchange felt like a forbidden moment, like an unspoken rule between the four of them. Every minute of Patton’s day was filled with anticipation, and every night was filled with dreams of lollipops and flower crowns and kisses under the summer sun. He wanted to break the spell, he really did, but he was scared. He was afraid that if he tried to step off of the tedious tightrope they had made, he would fall and no one would be there to catch him. He was pretty sure that they wanted him the same way he wanted them, but what if he was wrong? No, it was safer to just ignore his feelings and savor their little game while they still wanted to play.

And that worked, for about a week.

You see, there was another unspoken rule that Patton hadn’t realized until now: whenever one of his crushes walked into the room, Patton was supposed to change his lollipop to match their tastes. Green apple for Remus, lemon for Janus, and honey for Logan. Plain and simple. Barring his first incident with Logan, Patton had been doing this subconsciously. And another rule that seemed to be unspoken was that his crushes always appeared at random times throughout the day. This wouldn’t matter if they decided to tell each other when they were visiting Patton,but they didn’t.

So here Patton was in his room, enjoying a blue lollipop (it was supposed to be cotton-candy flavored, but Patton wasn’t sure what it actually tasted like) when all three of his crushes decided to pop in at the exact same time. Patton decided to stay quiet, curious about what they would do now that one of their rules was unintentionally broken.

At first they just tried to intimidate the other two into leaving. That was a fun glaring match to see. Then they began making excuses as to why they needed to talk to Patton alone, which said moral side found extremely amusing. Then they decided that whatever flavor lollipop Patton had would determine who got to stay. Patton was confused by that one. Even though the candy was fully in Patton’s mouth, it was obviously not one of their flavors. His lips weren’t shamrock green, he didn’t smell strongly of lemons, and there wasn’t a glaze of honey across his mouth. Then Patton realized it:

They wanted him to change the lollipop flavor and choose. Choose between the three of them. Well, that won’t do at all.

With one snap, the blue lollipop was gone and each side had their respective lollipop in their mouth. They all looked ready to speak but Patton beat them to it. “Nuh uh, it’s my turn to talk now. Got it?” They nodded and Patton smiled, relaxing slightly. “Good. Now, I feel like we’ve reached a bit of a misunderstanding here. You think you can waltz in here, claim my lollipops like they’re yours, argue over who I get to give them to, all without me getting what I want?” He tutted, sauntering forward. “Shameful, all of you.”

All three of them looked away for a moment, blushing in embarrassment. “What did you want?” Logan, always straight to the point.

He chuckled, stepping closer to the logical side. “It’s simple really. I think it’s my turn to take a lollipop or three.” He grabbed the stick of the honey spoon and tugged gently, smiling when Logan willingly opened his mouth. Honey trickled down his chin as Patton took the lollipop, and he gently grabbed Logan’s jaw when he tried to close his jaw. “Nuh uh, I want all the honey.” He leaned closer, giving Logan time to back out before kissing him.

It was exhilarating, tasting Patton’s candy on Logan’s lips. The sweetness of the honey only made the taste of Logan even better. He savored the taste like he would never taste it again, sighing softly into the kiss. When he pulled back, he smiled at Logan’s dumbstruck gaze before turning to his next crush.

The human side of Janus’ face was bright red as he stared at Patton, the lemon lollipop hanging limply from his open mouth. Patton chuckled and cupped Janus’ cheek, taking out the lemon lollipop before pressing their lips together. The lemon was stronger, much stronger than Logan’s lollipop, but that only made him pull Janus deeper into the kiss, desperate to find the taste that was purely Janus. There was still quite a bit of honey on Patton’s mouth and Janus seemed to notice, his tongue brushing against his bottom lip. Patton groaned before pulling away, turning to his third crush.

Remus didn’t even give him time to catch his breath before pulling him close, smashing their lips together. Patton felt the creative side’s mustache tickle his nose and he giggled into the kiss. He couldn’t taste much of the green apple, the lemon flavoring still assaulting his taste buds, but he knew that his lips were being dyed that lovely shade of green as he kissed him.

When Patton finally pulled back, he sat on his bed, three lollipops in hand. His three crushes (boyfriends? Lovers? They needed to clarify that soon) trailed behind him, situating themselves around him. “You’re going to spoil your appetite.” Logan warned him as he looked down at the three treats.

Patton chuckled. “I know, and I don’t care. Because there are only three things I ever wanna have, and they’re all right here in front of me.”

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Taglist: @bisexualdisaster106 @self-taught-mess @arodynamic-enby @sanderssides-angst @whatishappeningrightnow @idont-freaking-know @cute-and-angsty-princess @artsy-enby09 @girl-who-reads @larrymalecsolangelo

#sanders sides fic #oneshot #patton sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #logan sanders #tw food

55 notes · View notes

dorleing · 3 years

Text

Bill was up to something; George just knew it. He’d be home for work when he wasn’t out of the country, but sometimes was out of the house for unexplained hours, when George knew he wasn’t at the bank. Fred voiced similar suspicions, though he was more distracted by pranking Percy than Bill’s mysterious ‘work’ hours. With the arrival of their O.W.L. results, their mum was less concerned with how they spent their summer hours. George was determined to find out.

Ginny would have been good to recruit for his snooping, but George wasn’t willing to get her involved in spy work that wasn’t inside the Burrow. (He hoped Bill was just spending time with a paramour, and not up to shady business, like vampires) Ron was busy with dueling Neville and cooking with their mum, and wouldn’t be that interested in tailing Bill. So George set out by waiting outside Gringotts (Bill’s hand on the clock was firmly on ‘work’, but other times it said ‘other’, which this ‘other’ was what George really wanted to know,) until Bill left the building for lunch. He followed Bill down Diagon and into Knockturn Alley, glad that he was disguised by a Notice-Me-Not-charmed hat and cloak; he and Fred’s invention prototype (to see exactly how long the charm would last on articles of clothing, the charm was long lasting on jewelry and other accessories but had issues on woven and knit fabrics).

Bill entered Borgin and Burkes, somewhere George refused to set foot into. Was Bill going dark? Was he selling items? Buying items for the bank? Buying items for himself?

Some ten minutes later, he left the store and headed deeper into the alley. George took a moment to consider if knowing Bill’s secrets was worth being potentially mugged or pick pocketed. Or even just having his entire view on Bill being flipped on its head. But no, he’d already invested in being out for the day; Fred was covering for his absence. He was going to follow Bill until it actually got dangerous or it was nearing supper, whichever came first.

Bill walked for some time with his unknown shadow until he came to the Dancing Phoenix pub. George followed as well, figuring a pub couldn’t be the worst place to visit on a lunch break. He took a seat at a back table, where he could keep an eye on both Bill and the door, because while George might be a Gryffindor, he wasn’t an idiot. Bill had seated himself at a table near the center of the dining hall, where a few folks were already in discussion. Bill ordered a shepherd’s pie, but George packed a lunch, so he only ordered a butterbeer.

A sudden swell in noise had George looking up from his lunch. A tall and tanned youth had walked in from behind the bar, triumphant expression beaming, as he announced, “Swift has failed to dethrone me, yet again!” Cheers went up, and the youth walked around the tables, shaking hands and promoting his celebrity with the room. After a lap around, he seated himself at the table Bill was at, and a dusty (and freshly beaten, George assumed,) man sat with them as well.

George spent his lunch people watching. It was an interesting sort who frequented this place, where the bare wooden beams and whitewashed walls added to the charm, not unlike the Three Broomsticks. There were folks who looked like tradesmen and women, with aprons and soot and burns and muscles. There were obviously shady individuals, who appeared to have recently crawled out of a gutter somewhere. Children too, would run in and out, usually either the bar to grab an order and then rush out, or they would go directly to the youth near Bill, speak with him for a few moments, and then also sprint away.

It was certainly lively in a way that George hadn’t expected from this place. He supposed this was the infamous Lower Alleys that Dad had mentioned occasionally. It was…cleaner, than George had previously believed. And not quite as lawless as Dad had made it seem.

George looked over to Bill’s seat where both Bill and the youth were getting up to leave. Bill clasped forearms with him, nodded to the rest of the table, and brusquely left the pub. George packed away his lunch and reached to chug the rest of his butterbeer when the youth grabbed the mug first.

“That’s a pretty fancy hat and cloak you’ve got there,” the youth leaned back in his chair, stretched out like a kneazle in the sun. “It’s not often we get a patron who brings their own food.” George kept eye contact, though the youth was giving him a firm side-eye. There was too much of a challenge behind that, and he was too Gryffindor to ignore it.

“I wasn’t expecting to stop for lunch,” he said gruffly, a lame attempt to disguise his voice. Why didn’t he think to wear more of a disguise? “But I got thirsty.” At that admission, the youth slid the mug back to George.

“Are you sure it wasn’t because your quarry was the thirsty one?” George narrowed his eyes. The youth laughed, almost a bark of a laugh. “I know you don’t mean harm; your aura is all off for malicious intent.”

George raised an eyebrow, and wrapped his cloak tighter around himself. “And what do you know about auras?”

“Well, I know that yours feels like it’s missing the final note to its chord, and the music its playing is of adventure, and not revenge. What do you know about auras?”

George hummed and closed his eyes, concentrating on the aura before him. It was much harder to read anyone who wasn’t Fred, but this one was both louder and softer than the usual ones he’d come across. It was a coiled blue, a gradient between slate and robin’s egg, curled around a powerful core. Likely fire, he thought, and there was kindred feeling, one of protect and defend and curiosity.

“I know that yours is whispering of suspicion, but there is a brighter part that wants to know if this humble stranger means harm to those under your protection. And that you really do like my hat.” He added with a smirk.

The youth’s appraising look felt satisfied. George removed his hat, handing it over for inspection. He felt exposed with his fiery mop exposed, but his cloak was still working, as no one looked their way.

“You, humble stranger, need not keep that moniker with a hat like this. Are you in the business of millinery? I know a fair few folks who would love to sport your brand.”

“Ah,” George wasn’t expecting his hat to gain that much attention, seeing as it was designed to not gain attention. “It’s still in the workshopping phase, unfortunately. The imbued charms wear off far too quickly for practical use.”

The youth handed back the hat. “That certainly is unfortunate, my good man. Allow me to introduce myself,” He stood into a sweeping bow. “Lionel Hurst, at your service, milord.”

George matched his pose, “Allow me, your highness, to congratulate you on securing your throne, yet again.”

Lionel rubbed the back of his neck, “You heard about that, did you?”

“Hard not to, when you announced it for all and sundry to hear.” George placed the hat back on his head. “I am afeard that the chiming of the bells beckons me to leave your exalted presence, and beg my lord to grant this plebian a leave of absence, so that he may labour away in his modiste craft, to perfect that which his most noble of heads does so desire.”

Lionel laughed, “At ease, my good sir, for your work is granting of its praise. Go forth and perform your self-imposed duty, and should you see fit to return, bring he who harmonizes your most sacred of songs.”

They bowed a final time before George left the building, hoping he could figure his way back to the Leaky Cauldron.

#murkybluematter #the pureblood pretense #the futile facade #fanfiction of a fanfiction #george weasley #leo of the rogue #leo hurst #rigel black chronicles

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wolfpawn · 3 years

Text

Hiding In Plain Sight, Chapter 7

Story Summary - Imagine coming from a line of nobility or royalty and being in an arranged marriage with Loki in an attempt to strengthen your kingdom / alliance with Asgard. You’re not entirely on board with the idea but figured that the best you could do was to get to know your fiancé. You form an agreement with Frigga for you to pose as Loki’s personal servant for a few months so you can get to know who Loki really is – beyond the veil of his responsibility to the Asgardian throne, behind all the masks he wears when facing the public, to really know who Loki is behind closed doors as you slowly fall for each other. How long will you keep up the ruse with the God of Lies?

Chapter Summary - Loki reacts to the news that his wedding is far sooner than he thought.

Previous Chapter

Tags - @peppermint-j @alexakeyloveloki @cateyes315 @laserpente @bravotheroyalfool @teylacarter91 @heavenly1927

She spent time contemplating what she would need to do, barely realising that in her stress, she was simply rubbing down a desk in slow circles with no major purpose over and over.

“Pine paint over oak,” she explained, looking at the lighter wood underneath. “I don’t know why someone would paint over a more expensive wood, but they did.” Her voice was emotionless.

“Why are you so bothered? Have you been sentenced to the gallows also?”

“I think so.”

“I have been told Tatiana, my normal maid is to return tomorrow, is that what this is about? Are they mistreating you in your original department?” Loki asked.

Through the fog of sadness at the situation, Raven was startled that he would even care enough to ask. “No, I just...I have a lot I have to consider in my own life at this time. Sorry.”

Loki did not let her pass as she tried to evade him. “No, if there is something afoot, you need to inform your superiors, this house will not stand for bullying or such.”

“I am sure you have enough to be worrying about with your own troubles, considering the news you were dealt today.”

“That is hardly the most startling news in the world, I have known about this betrothal for a considerable time but if you are being accosted in some manner, this needs to be dealt with.”

That resonated with Raven. She could tell he was anything but pleased with his news, yet was concerned for her. “No, I am not being bullied or mistreated, thank you, your highness.”

“You can say if you are.” He didn’t sound as pushy as before, trying to get information from her. “If anyone is bothering you over being an elf here…”

“You called us unintelligent.”

“No, I never said that particular word. I stated that the princess will be subservient, not unintelligent. Since that is how she is raised.”

“She is strong-minded, I told you such already or do you think me lying?”

“How can she be when she is not allowed to do much?”

“That does not automatically equate to subservient though, does it?”

“I suppose not. I just assumed with the Light Elf attitude to daughters…”

“What is Asgard’s attitude to royal daughters?”

“I am not sure, there has not been one in a few generations.” Loki paused. “Why is it very few realms have princesses, actually?”

“Maybe there’s some sort of attempt to not have them? No one seems to want to have any.”

“Why do you not call her by her name?” Raven asked. “If you are to marry her, it seems only right to actually acknowledge her by her name.”

Loki paused to consider her question. “I rather not.”

“Why?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It will in a month.”

“Then I will deal with it in a month.”

“I will deal with that. I need you to…” Loki looked around. “I am not sure what to ask you to do. I suppose I better use these last few hours to see what I can learn about her.”

“When is the princess arriving?”

“In two days, apparently.”

“Why do you feel that to be the pertinent concern?”

“It will not bode well if you cannot call her by her name. Think of how insulted she would be.”

“Is that the sort of thing that would insult her?” Loki queried. “Of all the matters in the realms, that is what she concerns herself with?”

“That is none of your concern,” Loki snarled. “What do you want?”

“If that is how you spoke to her, no wonder she rushed off, the poor thing.” Thor shook his head. “What did you say to her?”

“Again, that is not your concern.” Loki glared at him. “Why are you so bothered, anyway?”

Thor merely smirked in response. “Call it curiosity.”

Loki eyed him warily. “What do you know?”

“Sensitive?”

“Yes, elves are sensitive. Have you been blinded to the anxiety you caused that poor elf as you made her feel so angered she had to run off?”

Loki did not respond.

"Loki?” He sighed as he turned to face his mother. “Where is your maid?”

“I relieved her of her duties.”

Loki huffed a small scoff. “She was a tad, shall we call it, opinionated. I was under the impression elvish women were quiet.”

“I hope you did not speak in such a manner to her.” Frigga was beginning to regret her scheme of allowing Raven to get to know Loki as she did. “Loki…?”

“I was not so blunt but I did discuss the matter with her, also, due to her working here, I did not want her to be reprimanded elsewhere for such.”

“I will not.” Loki retorted.

“How pray tell, am I supposed to believe that?” His mother challenged. “Norns, that poor girl. That poor elf, to think you treated her so. I only hope she can see past it.”

#Loki Fic #Hiding in plain sight #chapter 7 #wolfpawn

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knit-wear-it · 3 years

Text

AU: Training Day

Mood: In the Pantomime 17 (AO3), Ed is released from his bathtub prison so Jarley can send him off to do their bidding while they hide out at Lee’s. In an alternate universe, Harley & Ed spar together in Lee’s living room instead of having a serious conversation about Vicki Vale.

Rating: Crack / Lolz / Jarley Fluff / AU

AU: Training Day, A Harlequin-Tumblr Exclusive

Ed slept on the couch while Lee took the bed in her spare room, and Ed listened in the dark for the Joker and Harley to talk or fuck or do something, but it appeared they were just sleeping. Boring.

Then in the morning, Harley reappeared, not looking particularly refreshed, and wearing a sporty combination of the electric-blue leggings from the day before with a neon orange sports bra, showing off a very hot little body indeed. Ed pouted at her flat stomach, jealous because he had this little pooch that he just couldn't get rid of.

“Damn, girl,” Ed smirked, giving her his best impression of entitled toxic masculinity. “You’re—“

Harley slapped Ed across the face, making him gasp.

“Cut that shit out, Ed,” she snapped, mommy style. “This is fucking serious.”

Behind her, the Joker was watching as he smoked out the window, just looking… very unimpressed. He caught Harley’s eye, and something silent passed between them, and Ed knew they were both thinking they were wasting their time with him.

“Okay, okay,” he said in a rush. “I’m sorry, it’s the ADHD, I’ll concentrate, I promise. Tell me what to do.”

“I’ve seen footage of you fighting Black Canary and you’ve fought me,” Harley said grimly. “You’re strong, you’re fast, and you have some moves. Where did you learn to fight?”

“Where did I learn to fight?” Ed squinted at her, bewildered.

“If we’re going to work together we need to train together so we can fight together,” Harley explained, nearly making Ed swoon.

“I wrestled in high school,” he mused, trying to be serious. “Since then, mostly Soulcycle, pilates, and box fit.”

Harley’s eyes widened incredulously. “Box fit?”

“Yeah, like,” Ed bounced from one foot to the other, showing her his moves. “Jab, jab, cross! Uppercut! And... shimmie!” He swung his hips from side to side, bouncing on the spot as Harley stared at him like he’d sprouted a second head.

“You learned to box from an aerobics class?” she demanded.

“Well yeah,” Ed rolled his shoulders back, feeling judged. “Where did you learn to fight?”

“Twenty years of gymnastics, an underground Irish boxing club, and a teenage karate prodigey,” she snapped.

“Oh,” Ed’s eyes widened. “So you should really be better than you are, right?”

The Joker snorted and turned away to smoke out the window to avoid Harley’s lethal glare.

“Alright,” Harley sighed, looking around.

She sourced a roll of duct tape and a pair of throw pillows from the couch, then taped them to Ed’s hands, and with Lee’s help, taped a pair around hers too. It all looked very silly but Ed tried to remain serious, because it was obvious Harley was struggling. She looked tired, stressed out, sad, and a little bit hopeless though she was trying to keep it together like the good mommy she was.

Ed seriously doubted the Joker was the sort to give her a pep talk—maybe just multiple orgasms, which was objectively better.

“Okay,” Harley raised her pillow’d hands to cover her face as she spread her feet. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Ed imitated her posture and stance, then started prancing on the spot.

Harley dropped her hands, frowning.

“What the hell are you doing?” she demanded.

“Staying light on my feet,” Ed huffed, trying not to pout that she was being so serious.

“Fine,” she sighed, raising her arms again. “Whatever works for you.” She started shifting from one foot to the other, wholly focused. “Show me some of your moves.”

Ed jabbed and she blocked it easily. He tried a jab-punch-jab combination and she blocked each of them, remarkably strong for those slender little bird arms of hers. He tried a jab-jab-cross, right-hook, and Harley blocked all of it, looking bored.

She raised an unimpressed eyebrow and Ed narrowed his eyes, determined to impress her.

This time he advanced on her instead of just showing her combinations. She blocked, blocked, blocked, backing up as he got her on the backfoot. Ed felt like he was finally getting some momentum when she ducked, pivoted, and kicked him in the chest just like she did at the Hill fundraiser, hard enough to make him gasp and stagger back.

Harley lowered her leg, grinning as Ed rubbed his chest.

“Come on, Ed,” she taunted him, bouncing from one foot to the other, mocking him. She smirked and raised an eyebrow all sassy. “Show me what you got.”

Ed huffed again, narrowing his eyes in concentration before he attacked. She blocked and ducked, slipping right and left, moving too fast for Ed to hit her, and then after a few minutes of letting him chase her around the room, she kicked him in the chest again.

Ed scowled, even though really he was delighted to see her smirking, a light sheen of sweat on her chest as she gestured for him to attack her again. Behind her, the Joker lit a new cigarette, staring at her ass happily.

They were all like one big happy family. Even Lee was in the kitchen watching with an amused look on her face as she made them breakfast.

Then Harley attacked Ed before he had a chance to get his footing, forcing him to block and slip, imitating her with remarkable efficiency.

“Good,” she encouraged, when he swiped at her head, missing her. “Good, faster. Come on, Ed, faster!” She laughed like she was having fun, and Ed followed her directives. She went in to kick him in the chest again, and this time he grabbed her ankle with the intention of pulling her leg out from under her. But instead of falling on her ass, she threw herself into a back handspring, kicking him in the face as she bounced off her pillowed hands and landed gracefully on her feet, throwing her arms up in a V-like gymnastics pose.

“Owwwww,” Ed whined, his bottom lip jutting out as he rubbed his face.

“Is a kick to the face really enough to take you out?” Harley scoffed.

“Why doesn’t J have to train,” Ed pouted, flapping a hand at the Joker.

“Because he’s freakishly strong and fast, and he can shoot a flea off your arm from twenty feet away,” Harley rolled her eyes as Lee offered Ed some ice for his face.

Behind her, the Joker shrugged modestly, looking amused.

“Thank you, Lee,” Ed cooed, giving her puppy dog eyes that made her chuckle and shake her head. Then he turned back to Harley. “Well if J’s fighting with us why don’t you two sparr and let me watch?”

“We don’t do that,” Harley frowned.

“Ah c’mon, Puddin’,” the Joker drawled, flicking his cigarette out the window before he swayed up to her, raising a challenging eyebrow. “What’re you scared of, huh?”

“You’re injured,” Harley pointed out drily.

“Bet I can still take ya,” J smirked, making Harley scoff.

She hesitated as she thought it over, then shrugged helplessly and pulled off her pillow gloves.

“Fine,” she agreed lightly, raising her eyebrows as she squared off with him. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

The Joker chuckled throatily and rolled those tasty lanky shoulders back while Harley planted her feet and held her fists in front of her face, all serious and professional.

“Show me what ya got,” the Joker taunted her, smirking.

Ed lowered himself onto the couch to watch, absolutely fascinated to see what would happen.

Harley jabbed and the Joker swatted her hand away, shooting her an unimpressed look. They did this twice more, and J sighed like he was bored, spurring Harley to try a fraction hader, forcing him to duck a right hook. He straightened up with an intrigued hum and she jabbed at his face, hard enough to hurt him this time.

But he caught her wrist, spun her around, and wrenched her arm behind her back at an angle that made her yelp as he forced her to double over, holding her there for a prolonged second before releasing her, looking smug.

“I guess—“ he started to say, but Harley launched herself at him again, actually punching him in the jaw with an uppercut that made him laugh as his head snapped back. She went to kick him in the gut but he caught her leg, and yanked her forward, spinning her around so his arm was around her neck, making her huff and pant as she tried to get free.

“Give up yet?” he asked her slyly.

“Nope,” Harley gasped.

She folded forward, throwing the Joker over her shoulder so he landed flat on his back, laughing weakly when Harley sat on his chest. She grabbed his arms and pinned them over his head.

“I win,” she smirked triumphantly.

The Joker flipped her onto her back so fast Ed gasped in delight. Then J sat on her stomach and pointed a sharp index finger at Harley’s forehead.

“Bang,” he smirked lazily.

Harley locked her knees around his hips and flipped them over again, but just as quickly the Joker rolled over once more, with far less effort than Harley had to exert, and this time he pinned her arms over her head.

“I win,” he declared.

“Really,” Harley widened her eyes. She had her leg between his thighs, poised to knee him in the balls. “Don’t make me do it, J” she let her bottom lip stick out in a pout.

The Joker hummed thoughtfully then bent down to whisper something in her ear, making her giggle and wrinkle her nose before she lowered her leg and he released her arms.

Ed looked at Lee, his heart swelling.

“They’re so cute,” he hissed, feeling privileged to see this private little moment between these dangerous people.

A/N: Alright, that’s all from me for a while. I may do a four-parter called “Symmetry” at some point next year. I officially have almost two scenes (out of like, 150 scenes) drafted for The Rabbit Hole.

Wishing you all a happy new year. Pop over to FFN or Ao3 to leave your review of the Pantomime if you haven’t already!

PS: Asks are open for a couple more days if anyone would like to submit, but i encourage you to do it non-anonymously - it makes me feel like you actually exist, lol.

Like it, note it, reblog it, show me some love <3

#the pantomime #the harlequin #jarley #harley quinn #the joker #the riddler #edward nygma #au #fluff #crack #lol

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