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nocapesdahling · 3 years

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As the World Falls Down - Chapter 1

Helmut Zemo x Gender Neutral Reader

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Summary: You are the head of Research and Development for your squad in Sokovia and also serve as its handler. Your leader is the esteemed Colonel Helmut Zemo, your best friend though you’ve often sometimes wished that it could be more than that.

Rating: Mature (17+)

There is currently no explicit sexual content planned for this fic, but there may be things heavily implied as we move forward so rating it M to be safe. Please respect the rating.

Chapter Warnings/Tags: Slow Burn; Canon pairing of Heike Zemo/Helmut Zemo; implied potential polyamory; Zemo likes to be called Sir; Referenced Age Difference; Angst will be coming in subsequent chapters.

A/N: Hi everyone! Helmut Zemo and this idea would not leave me alone. This is my first reader fic and my first fic published on Tumblr, so I would love to hear what you think. This will be a multi-chapter fic, covering Age of Ultron, Civil War, and TFATWS. The first three chapters will cover AOU. Zemo and everyone in this chapter are speaking Sokovian, but it's written in English. It is assumed that the reader’s nickname exists in the Sokovian alphabet.

Chapter 1: Beneath a Fallen Sky (Age of Ultron) - Part 1

Word Count: 3k

Chapter Summary: Everything was normal. Well as normal as it could be in the day in the life of a handler for a Sokovian covert intelligence squad when robots began to attack Novi Grad and things…well, things went downhill from there.

You had met Baron Helmut Zemo years ago, though you hadn’t known he was a baron back then, in what felt like another life and had been by his side ever since. You served as the tech wizard and handler for his team of EKO Scorpions, outfitting them with gadgets, designing their suits and masks, and acting as tech support for their missions. Zemo had jokingly referred to you as Q when you presented him with his purple mask for the first time and to your slight embarrassment it had stuck. No one on the team had called you anything else since.

Now, machines had attacked Novi Grad and you had to do something for Sokovia, for her people. You tried hacking the machines to no avail. You’d get into one and then it would fall over lifeless as though it never worked in the first place. The algorithm was constantly changing and the AI was too complex without your specially designed work equipment, which was currently in your base miles outside the city and not your apartment, so it was time for plan B.

You focused on getting your people out of the city and saving as many civilians as possible. A swarm of robots attacking seemed like something that would attract the attention of the Avengers, but they weren��t here yet and you couldn’t sit idly by waiting for them to arrive. You called the members of your team and reached almost all of them. They were stationed around the city, doing their parts to help civilians as covertly as possible. Your team was not used to doing anything without their masks, which you did not tend to bring home, but this was an extraordinary situation so you would all do what you must.

You had reached everyone, except Helmut. He wasn’t picking up via his phone or his earpiece, and you couldn’t help but worry about him and his family. You had all been called to (well, ordered if you were being technical) to defend the city, but your squad wouldn’t function the same without its leader.

You needed Colonel Helmut Zemo.

This was the first time in a long time that you had been out in the field, preferring to be behind the scenes, but you were capable and skilled enough to be there. Zemo had made sure of it.

________________________________________________________________

Flashback:

You were designing an exploding pen in the lull between missions, just for fun, when you registered Helmut’s presence in the room. You had no idea how long he had been standing there as you often got lost in your head, especially while working on a diverting project. Your brain flitted from one thought to the next and fixated on solving different problems or creating new gadgets. The outside world became a blur to you. Helmut’s voice was one of the few things that could draw you out of it. It had been like that since you first met him. Maybe, it was the timbre of his voice that always seemed to reach you even when you were figuratively miles away. His deep voice was so lovely.

“How useful do you think that would be, my Q?” Helmut’s voice was amused and fond.

You turned to face your best friend ready to excitedly tell him the multitude of uses for the exploding pen in the field, when your breath caught in your throat. Sometimes, it took you aback how handsome he was. He was wearing his military uniform today and he looked too attractive in it. It wasn’t even fair.

His hair often fell on his forehead, giving you the urge to brush it away. It was difficult for you to resist the urge to touch that lock of hair and him in general, but you were succeeding so far. Somehow. You gave yourself a metaphorical pat on the back for that. You thought you deserved it.

A man shouldn’t look so good with a gun in his hand either, even if it was one you designed. There was something undeniably sexy about the way Helmut used your gadgets, which took you so much time and effort to make. He took the time to understand them and utilize their full abilities. It made you feel like he was making the effort to understand you.

His smooth and confident motions were also mesmerizing to watch via the screen, while you directed the squad on missions. You had never allowed yourself to get too distracted by him, but acknowledged the beauty of his savagery that he occasionally employed to get the job done.

It was a toss up between which look you liked better, the military uniform or the dark purple sweater and coat he wore for certain missions. You had made sure that his shoulder holsters fit under it and that everything looked smooth. God, you loved how he looked in that coat. (You would also admit to admiring how the shoulder holsters looked on him too).

You took him in. His hands were encased in black leather gloves and his hair was mussed from his mask, but he looked good like always even having just come back from a mission. You took a glance down at his hands.

No blood this time, thank goodness.

You attempted to snap yourself out of it, hoping Helmut wouldn’t notice. Your brain was being particularly uncooperative today, pointing out everything you shouldn’t notice. Your mind was filled with of images of how it would feel for Helmut to caress and handle you the way he did the guns and gadgets you presented to him, what the leather of his gloves would feel like on your bare skin, and how it would feel to trace the multitude of scars you knew he received from missions not just on his chest but all over his body.

Maybe, it was time to find a new romantic partner that Helmut couldn’t scare away. He had intimidated the last one away within minutes of meeting them, and you hadn’t bothered to try to meet someone since.

What was the point when Helmut vetoed them as soon as you introduced them?

Given some of your current thoughts, it was probably time to do something about the lack of romance in your life. With your luck however, they would take one look at Helmut and run for the hills in both a figurative and literal sense. The man was quietly intimidating at the best of times, but when he actually tried he oozed danger. You almost couldn’t blame your possible partner. Meanwhile, when his full focus and attention were on you, you felt flustered and hot in a way you had never felt with anyone else though you attempted not to show it. You thought that you had been rather successful at that, though who could tell with Helmut? The man might have known about your crush on him for ages, but hadn’t said anything to save your pride.

(Helmut did in fact know and found it adorable. He and Heike had once mused about adding you as a third and equal part of their relationship, because both had seen the way you watched them even if you might not have noticed them watching you back. That reminded him that he needed to bring that up with Heike once more when he returned home. He schooled his face to give nothing away before continuing to watch you as you stayed lost in your thoughts. He would coax you out of it soon, but enjoyed watching your face as your brain worked.)

You attempted to shake your thoughts away again, knowing that at this point if Helmut hadn’t noticed your inattention before then he certainly had now. The man was happily married to a wonderful and gorgeous woman, who you adored, and you were his son’s godparent for goodness sake. You might have had a chance at one point years ago. You had thought your friendship might have become something more, but that had been before Helmut had met Heike.

What chance did you have with a Baron, anyway?

Helmut had stepped closer, while you were lost in your musings and reached for your hand. “Where have you gone Q, darling? Have I lost you in your head again?”

You snapped out of it and almost jumped back because of his new proximity. His brown eyes bored into yours with slight crinkles in the corners, showing his joking mood. You shook your head and hoped again that he didn’t notice the reason for your distraction, though you didn’t have much hope. The man noticed everything.

“I was just thinking about the improvements I could make to the exploding pen and how you all could use it on your missions!” you exclaimed, excitement in your voice and face as you spoke of your work. You hoped your enthusiasm would divert him from questioning what had distracted you.

Helmut chuckled softly and played along, “May I?”. He indicated the pen that was still sitting in your hand. His lips were slightly upturned. He knew how passionate you got about your gadgets.

“Of course, Colonel,” you smirked back and handed him the pen. Your hands brushed, the leather of his gloves caressing your palm.

Helmut stepped closer to the light and examined the pen. “I can already think of several uses for this, my Q, though I did happen to notice something about this particular pen.” He turned on his heel and held the pen up for your perusal as though you hadn’t spent the last hour examining and perfecting it. You played along, leaning closer as if to examine the pen. Helmut loved his games, and you had never been anything but a willing participant.

“Hmm?” you made a questioning sound as you straightened your blazer and looked away to avoid eye contact in the hopes that he would come closer with your faux avoidance of his question.

You heard him step nearer, knowing that he could walk silently if he chose and that he wanted you to hear him. “Look at me, my Q. Where has this shyness come from, hmm?” His hand was on your chin, tilting your head up before you could respond.

At some point, when you weren’t looking, he had taken his gloves off and you had to stifle a shiver as his gun calloused warm hand touched the bare skin of your face. A brief thought crossed your mind of what that hand would feel like elsewhere before he let you go, staying a little too close for your piece of mind.

“There you are,” He smiled at you, a full one that was more rare than you would have liked. “Now, Q, you know what I noticed? This pen,” and here he drew your attention back to the pen by playfully flourishing it like the showman he was, “is one of mine. I am the only one on the team that uses this brand. Do you know how much a Mont Blanc costs, darling?”

You shook your head and smiled sheepishly. You knew vaguely that they were expensive, but it was the best kind of pen for this sort of thing so you hadn’t thought twice. “No, but it was the most sturdy pen and I knew that you, Boss, would be the one most likely to use it once it was done. So I thought you wouldn’t mind if I used your pen.”

Internally, you wanted to laugh. You knew that Helmut would not have let another member of the squad get away with some of the stuff you pulled. You were the only one who called him Boss, though you had experimented with calling him Sir like the rest of your squad. That had brought an odd light to his eyes that you had never been able to quite decipher. He had almost looked hungry. You refrained from calling him Sir too often after that, except when you really wanted something or intended to tease him.

Helmut smirked at you as he slipped the pen into his pocket, “I’ll be keeping this, Q. Usual activation, I presume?”

You smiled back, attempting to stop yourself from bouncing up and down on your heels. He and the rest of the squad always praised your gadgets, but it gave you a secret and special sort of thrill to have Helmut’s approval in particular. “Of course, Boss.”

“Now, for the actual reason I came here before we got so delightfully distracted by the products of your brain, you and I are going to the gun range. I happened to notice you haven’t been there in some time, Q.”

“I’ve been busy,” you protested while knowing he wouldn’t buy it, “Being the team’s handler and tech wizard is hard work.”

You had never enjoyed committing violence yourself, so tended to avoid the range, though you had never minded watching Helmut on his solo missions and as he lead the team on group missions. The thought passed through your head again that the man looked sexier than he should in full uniform with a gun in his hand. You shook your head in an attempt to dislodge your thoughts. You weren’t sure where they had come from today, but you wanted them to stop and stop now. You resolved once again to pursue a new relationship. Helmut was your friend and could not be anything more, no matter your fantasies and dreams.

“I know you work hard, darling Q, and that you can handle yourself, but you must practice in case the worst were to happen and we needed you in the field. I know you have the needed patience, my Q, with your line of work, but you must gain the experience. A person can do anything if they have those. You can do anything… I’ve known that ever since I first met you when you were a young student. How many grades did you skip again? Look how much you’ve accomplished and you’re still so young.”

You ignored his question about the grades you had skipped. You had been something of a child prodigy and had been younger than the average grad student. “Yeah, yeah, Boss and you’re such an old man. Also, I’m not that much younger than you. Do you remember our first conversation in the library?”

“Of course, Q. I’ll never forget it, even when I am actually an old man. You got my attention by your book selections. Machiavelli and hmm what was the second one?”

You noticed again that Helmut truly was in a joking mood today. The mission must have gone well. They hadn’t needed you to act as the handler for this one, but you were glad there’d been no mishaps. Sometimes, after a difficult mission, Helmut brought his field persona back to the base. During those instances, his demeanor gave off the impression of a man who would do whatever necessary to accomplish his goals. No matter what was required. You hated to say it, but when he was like that you were a little turned on. (Well, more than a little but you weren’t going there at the moment).

You had always had a thing for intelligent and ruthless men, which now that you thought about it had started once you met Helmut, and his domineering field persona made you feel hot. You gave up on controlling your thoughts today as that seemed to be a lost cause, and internally sighed. Heike was a lucky woman.

“You’ll never let that one go, will you? It was for my course. Read one German erotic book or two, and no one ever lets you forget it.”

“Or two, my Q? Who said anything about a second one?”

“No one. Not me. Moving on, anyway you think anyone younger than you is young, Helmut. Also, you look younger than your actual age.”

“Yes, I know. Helps for undercover missions.”

“Of course, it does. Did you even need those glasses you were wearing when we met or were they just there to make you look more studious?”

He laughed and gestured for you to lead the way to the range, not answering your somewhat rhetorical question. “Let’s go, Q. I have to see how rusty you’ve gotten. Afterwards, perhaps if you’re good, I will teach you how to wield a sword.”

“Oh I’ll show you how good I can be, Sir.”

End Flashback

_____________________________________________________________

Well, the so-called worst had happened and you were out in the field, facing killer robots of all things. You were working in conjunction with your squad to evacuate and protect neighbors and strangers alike, but it was different being out here as opposed to behind a screen. You had finally been able to reach Helmut, and he had gotten Heike and Carl to safety outside the city with his father on their estate. You had breathed a sigh of relief at that. They would be safe there, and you did not need to worry about them. He had also reported that the Avengers had finally arrived and that they had been able to see them from their car window, which meant that it was time for your squad to finish up and get out of there.

Helmut was elsewhere in the city, and your squad was one of the only ones still in Novi Grad proper, so you were spread thin. Yet you couldn’t help but wish to see Helmut, to embrace him for what could be the last time. You had faith in your squad and the Avengers, but this was your country and your people at stake. That unwavering faith lasted until Novi Grad’s, your home’s, streets began to splinter and the city began to lift from the ground faster than you would have thought possible and no one seemed to be able to stop it, not even “Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.”

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coping-via-clint-eastwood · 3 years

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Unrestrained Summer Fun - canon-divergent Gil Grissom x Reader

(A/N: Thought I'd get this one out quick since it's the hottest part of the year. This is gonna be in 2 parts again. Sara doesn't exist in this fic {because I personally can't imagine Gil having a deep romantic interest in anyone else if she did}. Also, this is c-d in the sense that supervisor-subordinate relationships are allowed. And, maybe some ooc. Warning - this is...probably sickeningly sappy. I'm too deeply in love with him for my own good.

As always, @addictedtostorytelling saved my ass with the meta, and @davesdude80 helped me with Gil's walk :) Thank you.

One more person on the taglist: @stokes-theorem)

It was 3 in the afternoon, the hottest hour of the day, in the hottest season of the year. Gil and you had climbed into bed an hour ago to try and bag eight hours of sleep before having to get up at 10, since your shift started at 11. Unfortunately, the heat had kept the both of you awake. Even Hank had dashed down to the kitchen, emptied the contents of his water bowl onto the floor, and rolled around in it. Neither of you had had the heart to stop him. He was currently sleeping in the puddle.

As for you humans, you were lying on top of the blanket. The air conditioner was on a moderate setting. However, that still was not enough. You groaned, "It's still so hot..."

"Maybe, we should let go of each other," your husband joked.

You looked at him pointedly. "No." That made him laugh. You put a hand on his chest and took a bunch of the cloth of his shirt in your hand. "You should take your shirt off."

He nodded his head to one side, and swept his tongue over his drying lips. "Alright." He scooted a little ways away from you and did what you said. He tossed his shirt to the foot of the bed. You moved your eyes up and down his body. Gil smiled; he appreciated that you found him attractive. He would never admit it even to himself, but he was self-conscious about the fact that he was not stereotypically attractive. So it warmed his heart to have you look at him the way you did.

Of course, you knew how he felt. You put your hands on his chest and, closing your eyes, kissed him. He let his eyes fall shut too as he returned the kiss, his hands staying on the bed. You slid your hands down to his abdomen. "You're beautiful," you whispered. In return, he put a hand on your cheek. He gently bumped his forehead against yours. You instinctively shifted closer to him.

Feeling your shirt on his bare skin reminded him of something. He gently gave a few tugs on your collar. "You should take this off." You smiled at his imitation. You rolled back and took your shirt off, pulling it by the collar. You lobbed it next to his. "You look good."

It was your turn to smile. "Thank you." You snuggled back into him.

"Let's hope we can sleep now..." he sighed, closing his eyes as he held you.

"Yeah..." you huffed as well.

However, try as you might, the both of you tossed and turned all afternoon. Adjusting the air conditioner to a lower temperature made it too cold, and yet when you moved under the blankets it was too hot.

At one of the many points when you were looking at him, you ran your hand up his beard then through his hair. "It's not fair..." you mused.

"What?" he enquired with a raised eyebrow, a little humoured.

"Your hair is white. You don't retain as much heat."

That made him chuckle. "That doesn't make much of a difference."

Several hours later, you lay flat on your back on top of the blanket, away from your husband. You groaned and put your forearm over your eyes. "We are never gonna sleep..."

"I'm sorry." He said this because he was much more used to foregoing sleep than you were.

You turned over to your front with a grunt. "What time is it?"

He checked the digital clock on his nightstand (you had an analog clock on yours, but you did not want to move anymore). "It's seven."

You sighed heavily; he observed your back heaving. "Great..."

"We might as well eat our dinner; make the most of it and take our time to get ready."

You sighed through your nose. "Yeah..." you nodded, "...you're right..."

"You can lie down a little longer while I shower."

You turned over to face him. "Thanks..."

He was sitting up as you said that. "You're welcome." He stood up and, knowing what you would want, walked to the foot of the bed and threw his shirt into your waiting hands. You grinned at him. He set out clothes for himself, and did so for you too. You squeezed his hand in thanks. With that done, he went to shower, while you put his shirt over your nose and mouth. You inhaled deeply and closed your eyes, then let out a long sigh. His smell relaxed you. You just lay like that, taking deep, calming breaths.

You did not even hear the water stop running, or the door opening several minutes after that. The cold air from his shower mixed with the air conditioning of the room, so you did not notice the humidity. It was only when he tapped your shoulder that you were brought back to consciousness and looked at him. "O-oh!" you exclaimed softly, pivoting up into a sitting position and turning out of bed, darting past him into the bathroom; the image of him with the towel hanging on his shoulder, his arm still down and out towards you, and his eyebrow raised and mouth ajar as you cut off his necessity to speak to you, registered only when you were some ways into your shower. You stopped and let yourself smile at that picture.

When you came out of the shower, he was not in the room. You got dressed and went down to the kitchen. Gil was eating a slice of watermelon from the refrigerator, and there was a plate with more on it for you to share; the both of you consumed a lot of cold fruits during the summer. Hank had been given moist pellets, as well as some watermelon of his own. Your man had also placed your kits at the front door, along with his straw hat, sunglasses, and your satchel, which contained your sunglasses. While he preferred his straw hat to the department-issue baseball cap in hot weather, you were content to use the cap in whatever situation.

Even when you joined your husband, neither of you spoke, not wanting to exert energy unnecessarily. You cleaned up when all three parties were finished eating. You told Gil, "I'm driving." You had to state it first; he would have driven your car so as to let the engine run, but it would still have been him driving for the fourth time in a row, and that would not have been fair. Well, to you at least - he insisted that he loved doing things for you. It was how he showed his love, whereas you did so to him via physical affection. But still, you wanted to do things in return.

Thus, Gil placed his hat on his head, put his sunglasses in his breast pocket, took Hank and his kit to your car, and sat in the backseat with the dog. You followed soon after, taking your kit and bag, locking the front door, and getting behind the wheel. Gil tossed you the keys, and you started the drive to the dogs' daycare. You took as many detours as you pleased, not being in any particular hurry. Since you were the one driving, Gil brought Hank inside the building, then came back and sat in the front passenger's seat. You drove to the laboratory, taking some more detours.

At the laboratory, you and your husband hung out idly in his office, sipping on the contents of mineral water bottles which the team took turns to stock the refrigerator with. At 10:55, the both of you strolled to the front desk to check in. Then the journey was made back to Gil's office, while he waited for any calls from Jim. At 2:30 am, a case did come up, and so it was handed to Catherine, Warrick and Nick, leaving Greg, your husband and yourself. The three of you decided to get breakfast for the team.

Upon returning from your errand, you tried to nap on Gil's couch (while he read A Midsummer Night's Dream at his desk), but the leather made you sweat even more. You grumbled and slogged your way to the break room, where you sat on a chair and attempted to sleep sitting up. But it was not really comfortable, and you could not even doze off for five minutes. The whole time, you were dreading something: that Gil would get another call just as shift was about to end.

6 o' clock rolled around. Greg headed into the break room, reading a book on Vegas history while walking. He had intended to take an apple out of the refrigerator, but upon noticing your misery, he helped heat up the omelette you had ordered in the microwave. You had your head down and were drifting in and out of consciousness, so just barely noticed it, but you did not process it. Even when he set the plate and your mug of chocolate from the fridge in front of you, you remained in a discount coma. He tentatively tapped your shoulder with one finger. That made you interject and snap your head up, your back slamming against that of the chair. So only physical contact could stimulate you.

"Hey..." he said softy, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You sighed and buried your head in your hands, elbows on the table. "Thank you..." you murmured, the vague registrations of stimuli having been solidified when you woke up.

"Don't mention it. Eat up." He rubbed your upper back, and continued to do so as you ate, knowing that you loved the contact.

On your third bite however, the shift supervisor came into the break room. "Hey guys, we got a four-nineteen..." he looked at you sympathetically, "it's out in the desert."

"Nooooo," you groaned, tilting your head back. Greg could not help but laugh. "Nooooooooo..."

Gil was used to your antics, so he calmly asked, "Okay...what's your specific complaint?"

"It's gonna be so hot! It's not dark anymore! And I don't have a water bottle!" Plastic water bottles degraded in ultraviolet light, secreting toxins.

"Well...you can always share mine," he reminded you.

You quietened when he said that. Then, you sprung up from your seat and darted over to him. You threw your arms around his neck and put your face in his chest, making him grip your waist reflexively, but his cheeks turned red when you let out a, "Yes, hubby."

Greg laughed even harder. " 'Hubby' ?" he questioned through his chortling.

"During times of physical or emotional discomfort, she is not very...restrained," he attempted to explain. With how smoothly he spoke, the only reason his blush could not be passed off as sunburn was that he had not actually been out in the sun.

Greg pressed a fist to his mouth to try to stifle his laughter, looking away and waving his other hand in dismissal. "It's alright. It's cute, actually. It's just surprising to have someone call you that."

"I know. But," he shrugged, "I've come to like it." You had remained docile, but now you smiled to yourself and turned your head up to kiss his neck.

Greg's smile turned sweet. "That's good."

Your husband guided you to sit down again. "Finish your food, then we'll go." You gave a nod, then got back to eating. Grissom looked at the other CSI, "You wanna grab something to eat as well?"

"Yeah," he replied, turning around to the refrigerator, "I came for an apple, actually." He took his fruit out at last. Gil got his pancakes out of the fridge too, and had orange juice to drink.

The three of you finished eating and drinking in under four minutes. But the drive out to the crime scenes took about an hour, and by the time you got there, the sun was high in the sky. "Dayshift should be handling this," you grumbled. You did not mean it of course, but you felt like grumbling.

"Yeah? Don't worry, it'll all be over soon," your husband joked lamely. Greg, who was ahead and trying not to slide down a sand hill, gave him a dirty look (he dared to do so because he was wearing sunglasses).

For this case, it was necessary to stay for a considerable length time at the scene, because there were footprints to be moulded, little cufflinks and keys and such which had been buried and had to be dug up, and so on. Not so ironically, your unpleasant mood made it best for you to spend more time processing the scene while Grissom and Greg did the talking to people. Unfortunately but predictably, the extended period of time spent in the heat you hated made you feel worse than ever.

Several shifts later, the case was solved. You were sitting on the guest's chair in Gil's office, waiting for him (and Greg) to return from the police station. You had your upper torso on the table, arms stretched out all the way to the opposite edge. You heard footsteps enter the room, but they were not Gil's. You did not know whose they were, but they were definitely not those of the man you loved. "I thought I'd find you here," Greg's voice said, making you turn around.

"Where's Gil?" You sounded a bit sad; you missed him.

"He's talking to Catherine, presumably about work," he dutifully told you, raising a fist and sticking his thumb in their general direction. He put his hand down. "How're you doing?" You plopped back down, exactly as you had been. That gave Greg all the answer he needed. "Grissom will be here soon," he reassured you. You nodded, your cheek rubbing against the desk. "You want my company til he comes?" You shook your head. "Okay. I hope you feel better soon." You gave a nod of thanks.

A little earlier:

Grissom and Greg walked through the doors of the laboratory, coming upon Catherine in the foyer; she was just heading out. Grissom called out, "Hey Catherine."

"Yeah?"

"Can I talk to you?"

Greg spoke up, "I'll go on ahead first. Bye Catherine."

"See ya." Greg made his way to his boss' office. "So, what do ya wanna talk about?" Gil looked around, then took Catherine's elbow and guided her to somewhere more secluded. He looked Catherine in the eyes, but still hesitated, nervously fidgeting his fingers against each other. "What is it, Gil? C'mon, you can tell me," she encouraged.

He swallowed, then finally said, "I need a favour."

Catherine raised an eyebrow; was that it? "S-ure," she said casually, shrugging.

"It involves Sam."

Mugs chuckled. "That's why you're so nervous; you're always on about me accepting favours from Sam, and now you want me to do it." She smiled and shrugged. "I don't mind. What d'you need?"

Grissom smiled a small smile of relief. "During our next shift, could Sam keep one of his pools open at three? Just for (y/n) and me. And uh," he looked away out of shyness, "no surveillance. There can be guards on the premises but...I'd prefer to be left alone." Catherine was impressed, to say the least; it was heartwarming that he was doing this for his wife. However, he was still saying, "Meaning no cameras, and the guards-"

Catherine laughed softly and raised her hands to stop him. "Gil, Gil, I get it." He closed his mouth. Knowing that he was still doubtful, she stated, "No humans or cameras on within viewing distance of the pool."

Finally, Gil gave a long, slow nod. "You'll have to cover that shift for me too."

"You're letting Sam do something for me and I get to play boss girl? You're sure you're not the one doing me a favour?" she chirped. Grissom gave a small smile and slightly dipped his head in thanks, then walked off.

Back to you:

The sound you were waiting for was heard. Soft, shy treads which you found endearing padded their way over to you. "Hey," he said lovingly, and you felt his hand on the part of your back that was flat immediately after that. You remained silent. "We'll take the next shift off, okay?"

That made you perk up - literally. Your head snapped up so you could look at him. " 'We' ? You'll be taking a shift off with me?"

He smiled fondly at you. "Yes. We can spend some time together."

You returned his smile. You stood up and hugged him, arms around his neck and face in his chest. This time, he fastened his arms around your waist. "Thank you," you whispered. His heart flipped, because that reminded him of his conversation with Catherine.

"Let's go home," he whispered, but before he let go of you, he quickly kissed you, knowing that you wanted it. The way you pressed your flushed face into his chest to hide it only made that clearer. He moved one hand to cradle your head, letting you calm down. He found it curious how you could still be bashful when he showed you affection in particular ways. But perhaps...he was similar. The both of you picked Hank up from the daycare, went home, ate, walked Hank, showered, and fell into a deep sleep.

#gil grissom x reader #gil grissom loving #gil grissom #billy petersen loving #billy petersen #william petersen #csi #c-v-c-e fic

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alia-turin · 3 years

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It has been a very very long week and I was writing and writing this chapter and it did not seem to end. Honestly I would have made that the final chapter but then it just became endless so I will probably write jus another one sort of as an epilogue.

I hope you enjoy y’all.

PLEASE NOTE: This chapter is 80% NSFW and there is a warming for blindfolding, some lighe dom/sub undertones and ice play. Fic Title: Somewhere in Time: Chapter 8 Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 Rating: Explicit Fandom: The Witcher Relationship: Caranthir Ar-Feiniel/Original Female Character(s)

Aine pulled the furs to her chin. She wasn’t cold, the fire was burning as hot as possible and the bedroom was small, but she couldn’t sleep. She pressed a finger against her lips, still feeling his touch there. The way her heart was beating when she felt him close to her, when he pressed himself against her...that was what kept her awake. That and how much she misunderstood him prior to the events this morning. She had no idea if she had done something or he did it on purpose, showing her things in his mind that shocked her. If it was her, it was not on purpose and probably she even owed him an apology even if she had no idea what to apologize for, if it was him...why?

She thought about what she saw for the rest of the day and now half of the night her mind was still going through the images. Aine didn’t fully understand all of them, those were his memories, that much she knew, but it all looked like paintings and she had to figure out what exactly the painting meant. She saw the terror, the pain he had inflicted. But there was more. She saw the confused boy, the young man who had lost someone he loved and that loss turning into anger. He was violence, but he never hurt her despite her worst fears.

She rolled to her side.

What if she had allowed him to do what he wanted today...she wanted him, why wouldn’t she? He was handsome, he saved her life, even if it was under the strangest circumstances and now she could even understand him. All she had to do today was just to allow him what he started. She didn’t want to be hurt. Not again. She wanted him, but not for one night, that was pointless.

She rolled to her other side.

Two different men. The same way he said that the red haired woman from his memories was different from her, so was…

Accidentally or on purpose she knew some of his most intimate moments, there was no denying that and despite everything she understood. They were very different from each other, but somehow the same. Having a family, but not really. Not having the worst possible life, but never the life they actually wanted...

She got out of the bed, didn’t even bother to get dressed, just wrapped the furs around herself.

Caranthir was reading a book, or more like looking at a book. He had been starting every sentence multiple times because the words just did not reach his brain. All he could think was how stupid he was today. Aine was too inexperienced and that was too powerful magic for her. He didn’t have an explanation of what exactly went wrong, beside the fact he should have known. No, that wasn’t what bothered him, her stopping him. He was glad she did, he wasn’t sure he could treat her gently, the way he wanted to treat her. Was he even capable of that? Did he even know what it meant to be with someone not just mindlessly chasing his pleasure and some physical relief.

“Can we talk?” he lifted his head, Aine standing by the stairs, her body wrapped with a blanket. She stepped closer to him, stopping on the opposite side of his desk. “I...know why you act the way you act. I’m not sure I understand it, but I saw your memories.”

“You were not supposed to see that.” he interrupted her. He didn’t want to talk with her about how he killed and worse. He knew very well none of his memories were pleasant, they were not pleasant to him, they couldn’t possibly be pleasant to someone else.

“I wasn’t, but I did.” She pulled the blanket closer to her as if she was cold. “I...pushed you because I told you that you cannot be nice to me and then shut down. I was scared.” he didn’t say anything, only watched and listened, who wouldn’t be scared honestly? And he understood very well what she meant about him being warm one moment and then cold the next. If he had social skills he would be one or the other. “I like you.”

He tilted his head. It wasn’t the first time someone said that to him, but in his opinion women liked the idea of him more than they liked him. He was a navigator, a red rider, all of these attractive in everyone’s mind. He knew she didn’t care about any of that. He knew she saw him for exactly who he was, physically and otherwise and that was relief and a big problem at the same time.

“I saw your life. I owe you something in return, probably an explanation.” he didn’t answer, still not sure what to say. He did not feel as if she owed him something, but he was not going to stop her. If anything he owed her an explanation, maybe an apology for being rash and irresponsible, pushing her to do something because he found it fun without thinking of the consequences “There was an elf. Years ago, when I still lived in my father's house. He was nice to me.” she stopped, he wanted and didn’t want to know what nice meant in that sentence. “He thought that by being close to me, he would win favour, but he did not understand that my father saw me as a bit more than a servant. He figured it out.”

“I have little use of you.” he finally said immediately realizing how bad that sounded. “What I meant is that I have no interest in using you.”

“I know. I...saw as much.” there it was. She said it. Took that off her shoulders. “This is why I pushed you away today. Not because of what I saw but because I started feeling for you and you being the way you were well...I don’t want to be one night entertainment.” she looked at him, she couldn’t live all her life in fear of what happened before and the same was true for him.

She let the blanket drop around her feet, leaving her naked in front of him.

Caranthir felt his jaw drop. That he did not expect. He watched her naked shape, the candles and the fire from the room dancing over her skin and hair. That was what he wanted, wasn’t it? For weeks now, but why couldn’t he move or say something?

“This is embarrassing, I thought…'' She started talking, her arms trying now to cover her nakedness and also reaching down for the furs, but Caranthir moved faster, getting himself in front of her and grabbing her arms before she could do it.

“You don’t need to do that for my benefit.” he moved her arms out of the way, his eyes tracing the shape of her collarbones, her breasts, her hips. If she were to stop him now, at the very least he wanted to memorize that view.

“I want you.” she answered as she stepped on her tip toes and kissed him. He responded, opening his mouth but taking over the kiss, trying to steal the breath from her but he suddenly pulled out.

“What…” she looked at him puzzled.

“Nothing…” he stepped back his eyes on her body again. He didn’t want to cause himself to her. She was too...pure for him. “You need to know something. I’m not gentle, I’m not sure I know how to be...nice.”

“I saw that.” she responded, her eyes not leaving his. He didn’t think she saw any of it, but maybe he had been too focused on stopping her that she had seen more than he expected. “I have seen…” he placed his finger on her lips.

“And you are not like them to me, but I don’t think I know any other way.” he pressed himself against the desk and pulled her closer, her belly rubbing against his growing erection. He wrapped his arms around her, letting his hands rest on her lower back. “Do you trust me?” he pulled her even closer to himself, frustrated at all the clothes he was wearing. She hesitated for a second but nodded. That was all he needed.

Aine felt his hand slide down to her ass, but he didn’t stop, he leaned forward and grabbed her hips, lifting her up and turning both of them around, letting her sit on the desk. She wanted to kiss him, she needed the closeness. He took a small step back, and then pulled his shirt off, almost as if he was getting changed, there was nothing seductive in his action, just a task he had to do. Aine couldn’t help herself but stare at his body, she knew he was well built, she could see that much even under the clothes, but now seeing the hardness of his chest, the defined lines around his abs...and the tattoos. She had seen the tattoos that started at his neck and those on his fingers and hands, but didn’t think they covered his whole torso, arms and parts of his legs. There were also the scars, less visible on his skin due to the tattoos but they were still there, the same scars as the ones on his face.

She couldn’t control herself and reached for his chest, her finger tracing a few black lines of the unknown pattern on his skin.

“What does it mean?” she asked as her finger continued.

“This one is a spell.” he grabbed her hand and guided her through his skin. “This stops other mages from putting tracking spells on me, like the one I put on you.” he moved her finger just below his chest. “This one protects from certain curses.” he continued pushing her finger down over his abs until he stopped where his belt was. She tried to reach for his belt but he held her hand away.

“Patience.” He didn't say that to her, mostly to himself. He had never taken so much time, if it were someone else he would be half way through now. But he wanted to feel her, every single part of her and wanted her to feel him. He wasn’t worried about her seeing him, she already did and he liked what he saw in her eyes. He might be making that up of course but she accepted him, she didn’t stare at his scars as if he was a freak, when her fingers touched them she didn’t even pull away...she just accepted him and that was a bigger turn on for him than almost anything else.

He pushed her on the desk and turned her so her length was on the length of the desk. He didn’t follow her, just walked around and reached for the drawer on the opposite side.

“What are you…” Aine lifted herself looking at him puzzled.

“Trust me.” he pulled the black fabric from the drawer and walked all the way behind her. “Just relaxed.”

He placed the fabric over her eyes and tired it at the back. He had blindfolded women before, it was his way to deal with them not seeing him, not looking at him. This was different. It wasn’t about her seeing him, they were past that, he just liked seeing her trust him, allowing him…

Aine hoped that was not a mistake and she wouldn’t wake up tomorrow regretting everything, or even worse, alone in the bed with him just gone somewhere, forgetting about her. She couldn’t see anything, but her hearing felt somewhat sharper, probably just an illusion from the senula deprivation. She could hear the wood in the fire burning, even the wind howling outside, but nothing from Caranthir until she felt his hands around her ankles, pulling her so her ass was almost at the edge of the desk and her feet hanging low. Then she felt his hands on her inner thigh spreading her open, redness creeping through her skin realizing he was standing right in front of her with her legs wide spread. What felt even more embarrassing was that she had no idea where his eyes were, for all she knew he could be staring at the bookshelves behind her.

“Caranthir?'' All she needed was a sound from him, just to know exactly where he was, but no response followed. However, she did feel his lips kissing just below her bellybutton, her stomach curling in a ball by the surprised sensation. Second kiss didn’t follow, but that was enough to make the heat between her legs almost intolerable. She tried to push her legs together but he placed his hands on her knees and stopped her. Not a word followed, she couldn’t decide what was more tortuous, not knowing where his eyes were looking, or the absolute silence from him.

Next thing she felt was his hands cupping her breasts, unlike the kiss that was not soft and gentle, that felt more like what she expected from him, rough, but still pleasant. He moved one hand away, just to replace it with his mouth on her nipple, his tongue licking it as her body arched looking for some sort of friction in the empty air. She moaned, enjoying the sensation, but also needing more, the cool air she can feel between her legs just reminding her about the emptiness there.

He moved his other hand away, his mouth replacing it as well, his tongue flicking at teasing, but not giving her any release just building even more need, until he moved away again, Aine moaning this time in frustration, as even his teasing was better than nothing at all. She felt something familiar, a tingling on her skin - magic and that was not coming from here.

“Caranthir, what…” she couldn’t finish. He placed his finger on her lips, again not even a sound from him. He placed a soft kiss just below her jawbone, another one further down, so tender, and gentle, unlike the next one, where he kissed but then sank his teeth in the middle of her neck and the next one over her collarbones where he bit the sensitive skin again. Next thing she felt was something cold against her neck, just where he was kissing, it felt like ice or snow. She could feel the wet trail it left as he moved it down, to where his teeth had sunk a moment ago, leaving her skin cold and burning at the same time. Aine moaned and this time she could hear him smirk, she could almost imagine the satisfaction on his face.

Caranthir watched her body react to the ice in his hand. He placed the cold cube above her breasts, sliding it slowly to her cleavage and further down. He moved the ice away, casting more of the spell to compensate for what had been lost by the warmth of her skin, but used his tongue to lick the wet trail the ice had left. She moaned, her body arching toward him desperately looking for a contact and he was doing his best not to allow her any contact but what he was giving her now.

He pulled away just for a second but then moved back to her right nipple taking it in his mouth and sucking as he slid the ice down her cleavage again, but continued down slowly leaving the ice on top of her belly button to melt.

“Caranthir…” this time it wasn’t a question it was a moan and he could feel it straight between his legs. He wanted to hear that again and again, but when he was in her. He stopped for a second, no, he was determined to take his time, this was different.

He stepped back watching her chest rise and fall, breathing heavily from, the ice on her belly almost melted, cold water glistering over her skin. His gaze stopped between her legs, he could see the wetness, his tongue running over his own lips, not wanting to take any longer. This game was almost as tortuous to him as it probably was to her. He needed to feel her, the same way he had felt her skin against his when he was teaching her, but less innocent, more primal.

Aine’s body was hot and cold at the same time, she could feel the freezing water running down her belly. Suddenly she felt his finger between her legs, the coldness of his skin surprised her and by insitic she tried to pull her legs together but he stopped her with his other hand. He didn’t push his finger in her, which was frustrating, just ran it around her entrance, his touch almost gentle, pleasant, but was not helping her in any way, on purpose stopping just before he could provide any sort of actual release.

That ended as well, more silence followed, seconds but the anticipation made it feels like minutes. She thought she could hear clothes, maybe leather, but the sound was so faint that she could not decide if at that point her mind was playing tricks on her, maybe it was her wanting to hear that and then feel him on top of her, the warmth of his skin pressed against hers. Again there were the goosebumps on her skin from magic, her brain just going in complete overload, what now? She felt Caranthir hands on her hips, slowly sliding up to her waist, smearing the now warm water under his touch, until his hands reached to her ribs and he slid his grip under her, pulling her into sitting position. Next thing she knew he dragged her even further to the edge of his desk, she was expecting to step on the ground any moment, but that never happened, there was nothing under her feet, just that tingling magic sensation, the feeling of falling and a low surprised scream escaped her mouth.

Suddenly she was sitting on something again, however it felt different. It wasn’t the hard, uncomfortable desk, her knees felt something soft, but what she was different, warm, she lost her balance and leaned forward, by instinct her hands reached forward to soften the fall but all she felt under her palms was hot skin and hard muscle.

Caranthir watched her confusion, as he was lying on the bed, she was sitting on top of him, her legs on either side of his. He removed the fabric from her eyes, unable to hold his own need to look at her. Aine measured the room in surprise, he could see confusion at first but it was quickly replaced with recognition, it was his bedroom, or hers as she had been sleeping there since he rescued her. He was lying on the soft furs covering the bed, the room was dark, but the moonlight reflection on the snow provided more than enough light for him to see her as clear as he did downstairs with all the candles and fires lit. He reached for her face, caressing the perfect skin in the exact same spot where his was damaged. His finger hooked a long strand of hair that was falling over her chest and moved it way, he needed to look at her, enjoy every inch of her.

Her small hands were on his abs, but one slowly moved down, reaching to his hardness and wrapping her thin fingers around him. He didn’t want to make a sound, but a low grunt escaped his throat as he felt her skin around his length. She moved her hand slowly, tortuous, but he did not care, at least not yet. Despite the pleasure her hand was providing, he just couldn’t get enough of her touch, her perfect shape on top of him, her eyes looking in his with the same lust he was feeling. He wanted to do hundreds of things right now and nothing at the same time. Wanted to be in her, on top of her, have her on her knees between his legs, taste her..the list went on and on. At the same time that was perfect as well. He had never experienced that before, all his sex encounters have been about satisfying a need, rather than...that whatever the right word for that was. It had been about chasing his own pleasure, some release and there was that. But now he just wanted to look at her, enjoy the way her eyes were pinned on him, accepting him. Her small hand was still stoking him slowly, but he could feel himself moving him closer to an edge.

Caranthir wrapped his hands under her ass and lifted her up, her knees still touching the soft furs under them. Her hand let go of him and reached back on his abs trying to find balance even if his arms were supporting her. He positioned her slowly on top of his length, his eyes not leaving hers as he let her slide down slowly. He was supporting her, controlling the pace she moved down on him. He could feel the heat between her legs, then the wetness and eventually her tightness around him. She moaned as his tip pushed in, biting her lower lip. He gave her a moment to get used to him, but then continued to help her slide down on him, inch by inch, as slowly as he could until he was all the way in and stopped. She tried to move up, but he dug his fingers in her thighs keeping her in place.

He needed a moment, he pulled himself into a half sitting position, his right hand on the bed to support him, but his left hand still on her hip. He leaned forward and kissed her as he moved his hand under her and urged her to move, slowly, it was tortuous for him, but he knew it was the same for her. They both needed more than that. She started moving on his length, her arms now using his shoulders for support, his hips moving to meet her. He watched her as she found the best angle, the moans from her mouth low but so intoxicating for his mind. He slid his hand away, moving it slowly across her leg until his thumb was positioned on her clit, gently drawing a circle but that was enough to distract her from the pace she had picked.

“Don’t stop or I will as well.” he whispered in her ear, realizing that was the first thing he had said all night.

She started moving again, her eyes pleading with him and he just smiled, his thumb resuming the lazy circles it was drawing.

“Good girl.” he whispered in her ear again and then bit it gently, moving his lips down her neck, placing soft kisses as his finger increased the pressure and speed. Her pace became more rigid and he moved his hand away, back to her hip, but with a smooth move he rolled her over, this time she was lying on the furs and he was on top of her.

Aine quickly wrapped her legs around him urging him to push in her but he didn’t move. Yet again her pleasure and everything associated was at his mercy. It was exciting, but what made the thrill stronger was that just a week ago she would never imagine herself doing that with him. Somehow seeing him for who he truly was did something for her, enough to know he wouldn’t hurt her, and enough to find attraction toward him. A week ago, she wouldn’t have thought about allowing him to cover her eyes, even if it was for a second and they were completely dressed. Right now it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. Caranthir placed his hand on her throat, his thumb and index finger holding her jaw and forcing her to look at him, not that she had any other intention. She wanted to look at his face, even though he had been good about keeping his emotions under control, there were signs of pleasure, his pupils almost completely hiding the blue of his eyes, his jaw clenching when he was suppressing a groan.

Despite his best effort Caranthir could not hold any longer, or go slow. He moved his hips slowly but then his whole body just refused to listen and he found himself in a harsh pace, Aine’s body arching below him in pleasure with every thrust he did. The grip around her throat increased in strength, he could feel against his palm as she swallowed, the bones raising against him, the way her skin vibrated as she moaned. Her eyes fixed on him, barely focused, but she was looking at him. He wanted to know what she was feeling, what she was thinking, seeing him on top of her. He could. Without giving it a second thought he pressed his forehead against her and cast the spell, something that should be forbidden, but he wasn’t thinking. He immediately felt what she was feeling, he could feel the pressure against his throat even nothing was holding him, but the amount of pleasure she was feeling, he was feeling it now too, combined with his own, pushing him so close to the edge that he could not control anything on his body anymore, his speed, the way he was holding her…

Aine smiled as she felt his forehead press against her and then almost screamed from what followed. Everything she was feeling until now, suddenly became more intensified and different. It felt so strange, she knew physically nothing changed, his moves became less controlled, harsher, but her mind was experiencing that on a completely different level. She dug her nails in his back and somehow sensed it on her own skin, even if there was nothing there. One of his hands was still on her throat, the other between her legs, how could she feel nails digging in her own back? Her orgasm came almost immediately, her body arching under him, feeling the warmth of skin, she had no idea if she screamed or made any other sound, her whole mind was trying to process something that she had never felt before.

Moments passed, neither of them moved his chest pressing against hers as both of them were trying to catch their breaths. She was physically tired, but her mind was also exhausted in a way she had not felt before, even with all the work she had been doing as he was teaching her how to use magic.

Eventually Caranthir rolled over, he seemed exhausted as well, his moves slow and forced as he pulled the furs under the two of them and used them as a blanket and then pulled her on his chest, his arms wrapped around her body.

Aine started tracing lazily the black lines over his skin entwined with scars. Her fingers touched gently the complex patterns and runes, gently brushing around the damaged skin.

Neither of them spoke, she had no idea what to say. Whatever happened tonight...first she had never imagined herself going to someone offering herself the way she did with him, but somehow it felt right, he felt close and...in a twisted way that made sense. She also never imagined herself being blindfolded to someone’s desk, that sounded terrifying and against all logic, he was the last person she should entrust with that, but here they were, she was more than fine and in one piece.

“What was that?” she finally asked.

“Mhm?” was the only response he gave, as he started playing with her hair. “You need to be more specific.”

“After you touched my forehead.” she slid her fingers lower to his abs, more runes and markings covering the skin there.

“A spell.” he answered. A forbidden one or at least one that was frowned upon in certain circumstances. Accessing someone’s mind was dangerous and invasive, the way she did it with him, he allowed that. No one allowed him now. “It allowed me to feel what you were feeling and it allowed you to feel what I was feeling.” It usually was hard to cast it on someone who was unwilling or unaware, but she had completely given up to him. It felt so easy as both of them had completely given themselves to each other, but he had also been selfish. He needed the reassurance that she really wanted him, the way he wanted her.

Caranthir continued playing with her hair, his mind going through everything that happened tonight. Not just the physical part, that was great, but there was more. He had never been so intimate with another person. Never had the need to touch someone or be touched, even if it was just that, holding her, feeling her warmth next to him.

“Are you okay?” she pushed herself up a bit, he had to fight the instinct to pin her back down. She wasn’t going anywhere, she just lifted her head and shoulders a bit to look at him, but even that loss of friction was frustrating. He felt like a child who had just discovered how good chocolate tasted. “Caranthir?”

“Yes.” he pushed her hair away from her shoulder gently, running his finger over the skin where he had left marks. He has not done that before. He had been rough in the past, but never felt the need to leave a mark, it usually happened by accident, spur of the moment situation, but that was different. “Does it hurt?” she shook her head, she probably didn’t even know how red her skin was.

“How did you do the thing with the ice?” she relaxed again on his chest.

He reached for her hand and took it in his, made her open her palm.

“Focus and think about ice.” he could see her concentrating, sensing magic slowly building and an ice ball no bigger than his thumb appeared in her hand. “There you go.”

She rolled the piece of ice in her hand and then placed it on his chest, Caranthir groaned, the little ball slid down his chest to the side of abs and fell on the bed.

“How long did it take you to get all these?” she asked after a moment of silence, her small finger tracing again the tattoos on his body.

“Months.” It felt strange talking about himself. He had asked her questions about her and he knew a lot, but she never asked him questions before and then...well he gave her the crash course of who he was. It was still foreign for him to talk about himself. “I did my first one when I wasn’t even an adult yet.”

“You did it?” she pushed herself up again, looking him in the eyes with surprise. “Even on your neck and back?”

“You can use magic to move objects. It is not that complicated to move a needle and some ink.” he traced her spine with his fingers. He should probably get some protective runes on her to make sure no harm would come, but he also loved looking at her undamaged skin, so much unlike his covered in scars. “My teacher taught me the principle and told me that one day he would help me get my first runes. I couldn’t wait, so I did it myself despite his instructions. He wasn’t happy, but I also did it right from the first time.”

Aine listened to him, it felt good. She already knew a lot, not because she asked, but now it felt better. Having him volunteer that information, for the first time talking with full sentences, not half words with hidden meaning.

“Your teacher...he was the one who raised you, right?” she was careful with her questions, she wanted to hear him talk, but she also didn’t want to push too far and make him close himself again.

“He did. He was like a father to me, not a good one, but he was the only family I had growing up. The only parent, the only friend…” a sad smile appeared on his lips. “I used to worship him, now I feel like he is my biggest enemy.”

Aine didn’t know what to say at that, she wasn’t one to speak about fatherly love and even if she did not consider her family as her enemy she did not want to be near them either, or at least what was left of them. A brother who rarely acknowledged her, a father who used her as a trinket when there was a need for it and ignored her the rest of the time.

“I want you to stay with…” Caranthir finally started what was on his mind but stopped suddenly feeling the energy in the room building. He looked at her but her eyes were as puzzled looking at him for an answer. “Seriously?” Caranthir said more to himself, pushing himself up as he saw the portal opening. There was only one person who could open a portal and knew to find him in this place.

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missdawnandherdusk · 4 years

Text

That Would Be Enough

Hufflepuff!Reader X Draco

Look at where you are

Look at where you started

The fact that you're alive is a miracle

Just stay alive, that would be enough

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Chapter 9 Chapter 10

Summary: Dumbledore is dead and the pieces start to fall apart or in to place...

A/n: Okay guys, this is a great chapter because you get to look into the past and into the future and also you get to see the loose ends start to tie themselves... who’s ready for this to end soon? Not me, but at least I’m figuring out how I want to end it. Also, my postings will be a bit more sporadic because I’m in college and have a job and so writing, though still fun takes energy that I rarely possess...

I stood and Draco was beside me. I looked to him frantically, wondering what was next. What would be next for the two of us?

There was hardly a moment to think for ourselves because beside us, Snape apparated into the foyer, causing my to jump in panic, into Draco’s arms. The professor seemed to take the sight of the two of us in, and something soft and sad was in his eyes before he recovered.

“Are you to unharmed?” He asked curtly. We nodded mutely.

Then the thought ran through my mind, or perhaps I had finally allowed myself to think it.

The man in front of us was a murderer.

The man in front of us saved Draco’s innocence. Something that I couldn’t even do.

My mind begged the question: was Snape good? All I could find were grey answers.

“Is it done?” Narcissa’s voice caught all of our attention.

“Yes,” Snape retorted. “And I expect the Dark Lord to be here any moment, so if you’d like to flee Miss Y/n, now would be the time,”

“I’m not running,” I declared defiantly—foolishly.

A loud crack sounded through the large Manor, and the air grew cold and foreboding. Draco registered what was occurring before I did. He protectively pushed me behind him as many more Death Eaters appeared around us until black flooded the green marble floors. They were all shouting in victory. They were all laughing and grinning. Even behind their masks, it wasn’t hard to understand their pure joy about the death of Dumbledore.

My fingers gripped Draco’s cloak as I went numb, by choice or perhaps not. My mind shut down and had gone to autopilot. One look in Draco’s eyes and I knew that he had as well. His hand still found mine, however. That was one thing, even numb, that would never change. Narcissa came behind me, holding my shoulders—comfortingly or defensively, I wasn’t sure.

One thing broke Draco’s perfect mask and made Narcissa gasp in terror. The sight of Lucius. I could barely make out a clear image of his father, only the long silver blond hair that I knew well. On the cold ground, Lucius looked desperately to something—someone.

The Dark Lord.

I could not mistake this being for anyone else. The creature that haunted my dreams and plagued my reality. Not meters from me. His cruelty revealed everything.

I had never seen the Dark Lord happy, but a gruesome smile distorted his ghastly face. My grip on Draco’s hand was so tight that my nails dung into his skin. If I had control, I would have lessened the pressure, but the control no longer belonged to me. Instead it belonged to the beast in long dark robes with blood red eyes.

Words left his lips, but I had no power to listen. It wasn’t until other people acted upon me that I had any reaction to the events around me.

Draco held firmly to my arm and Narcissa to my shoulders, refusing to let me go. To let me be pulled into the circle of Death Eaters next to Lucius.

“Ah, ah,” The Dark Lord refuted gently. “Come, bring the girl,”

Narcissa’s hands left regretfully and Draco met my eyes, terrified before he let me go too.

I was shoved into the middle of the circle of Death Eaters, wand gripped tightly in my hand. Before me, I could finally see Lucius—looking more ghostly than I had ever seen him, frail and defenseless. A storm of emotions overwhelmed me. Anger overpowered the others. He had hurt so many of the ones I loved. Not fifteen years ago did he kill me father in the same room.

Maybe I’d have the pleasure of vengeance after all.

“A gift for you my dear,” Voldemort purred, as if to read my thoughts. “I heard you were marvelous in using the Cruciatus Curse on Precious Potter, and I wonder if you’d like to display you skills again?”

My eyes flashed from hallow grey eyes to vivid red ones.

“You want me to...” my voice wavered. My anger fizzled out.

“Well of course, you did aid dear Draco in his mission, and were quite marvelous, I thought it might only be fitting to reward you,” His false kindness eerily swept through me, leaving me in uncertain ground. “Just think of all of the hurt Lucius has caused you. He murdered your father, abused the one you love for years and still he kneels there on the ground loathing you,”

In my mind I saw the death of my father again. The fruitless pleas that fell from his lips. The bright green flash that ended his life.

Tears stung my eyes as my gaze fell upon Lucius again.

Then I saw a shade of Draco in those troubled grey eyes: The night of the third trial and the absolute dread in Draco’s eyes. The night of the ball as this man spoke coldly to him. The breakdown Draco had not a month later. The need for healing potions to be on hand. All because of the man before me.

My lip quivered as the tears fell silently. But then my memories shifted.

To Draco chasing after me at the ball. Or the day we first kissed that summer. Seeing him on the train. The day he defended me from Umbridge. Every smile and every tear. The nights when he broke and the days when he was put back together.

That was so much more valuable than my hatred for Lucius.

Then my eyes met Narcissa’s. They were frozen in shock and fear. I could see the desperate pleas in them to spare her husband’s life. A woman who went through two wars, desperate to keep her family together. Losing one sister to insanity and another to disownment. Losing a husband to hatred and a son to darkness. A woman who welcomed me with opened arms because she believed that I could pull her family back together, even for a little while. She had faith in me. In the kindness and goodness in me.

That was so much more valuable than my hatred for Lucius.

“Crucio,” I whispered, the spell taking no effect on the man before me.

“Like you mean it my dear!” The Dark Lord encouraged. “Let out all of your hatred and anger! Every wrongdoing, every lie, every injustice!”

“Crucio!” I called out louder and still there was little effect. The circle of Death Eaters around me snickered, mocking me.

“She has had a long day My Lord,” Snape spoke up. “Perhaps she will be better suited in the morning after a night’s rest,”

Voldemort’s blood red eyes peered at me, but I was at peace. There was no thought for him to have. My mind was plate glass. A reflection for him to gaze upon.

“Perhaps,” The Dark Lord echoed. “Take her out of my sight,”

Again, I was grabbed and thrown hastily out of the circle and into not Draco’s arms, but Narcissa’s. There were tears in her eyes and a kind smile on her face as she led me upstairs to Draco and my shared room.

“Thank you,” She wrapped me up tightly in a hug. “That was a kindness I didn’t deserve,”

“My love for you and Draco outshines any malice I have towards Lucius,” I whispered. “You’re my family, and family sticks together,”

She pressed a kiss to my forehead and cradled me close. Tears fell down her face as soft sobs wracked her frame. There was a knock on the door causing us both to jump. Narcissa wiped her eyes quickly and composed herself opening the door only to meet Snape.

“They’ve gone, he requires medical attention,” His voice was soft and curt.

Without hesitation, I rushed to Draco’s bathroom grabbing three vials: healing, thoughts, and anxiety. I brushed past Snape and Narcissa, heading down the stairs to where Draco was cradling his father, unshed tears in his eyes.

“Here,” I knelt beside him, uncorking the first vial.

Draco and I worked like a well-oiled machine as the potions took their affect onto his father. Some color returned to his deathly face. Snape and Narcissa both had their wands drawn, casting healing and protection spells of their own. Lucius’ breathing became steady and no longer did he look like a corpse. Though he looked aged, he looked human.

“Thank you,” Narcissa murmured, stroking Lucius’ hair from his face. “You two get to bed,” she ordered softly.

“Y/n,” Snape called before I ascended the stairs. “The Dark Lord will be waiting for you to torture Lucius. He will not let you fail in this attempt.”

“I... I can’t do it. I never wanted to do it in the first place to Harry,” I confessed, my voice rasping.

“You must.” Snape rose. “For the sake of your life and for Draco’s. This is a different game now.”

I nodded and took Draco’s hand, rushing up the stairs and into the safety of our room. Like his mother had, Draco wrapped me up into his arms and only then did I realize I was shaking rather violently. I didn’t feel panicked, but my body said otherwise.

“Thank you,” He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “You were kind in ways that I never could have been,” It seemed that the only even that either of us could process at the moment had been the past few minutes.

“I couldn’t do it. Not when I looked in his eyes and saw you,” I whispered into his shoulder.

“What are you going to do?” He asked. “You... the Dark Lord isn’t going to...”

“I know,” I sighed. “I don’t know what to do. But I won’t cast another Unforgivable.”

“Maybe it’s time for you to leave,” his words held a softness as he cupped my face. “To keep you safe.”

“I can’t leave you here, Draco,” I refuted. “I won’t go. I have to show them I won’t be broken. I won’t let hatred win,”

“Do you understand how dangerous this is?” His words became curt. “You could be killed for showing any disloyalty.”

“I know, I know,” I dismayed. “But I won’t run. I won’t be a coward... and I have nowhere to go...” There was nowhere that I could go that I knew wouldn’t be a target or a suspect for hiding me.

Draco huffed and ran a hand through his hair anxiously.

“Okay,” He gave in. “We should get to bed,”

“Dray,” I groaned. “This is my path as much as it’s yours. Please don’t push me away.”

“I’m just trying to keep you alive,”

“My life isn’t my own anymore. I’ll willingly die for the good,” As soon as the words left my mouth my thoughts flashed to my father. “That’s why he did it.” I marveled mostly to myself. “That’s why my father wasn’t afraid of death,”

Draco stroked my cheek softly, the warmth in his grey eyes proving that Lucius would never be the man that Draco was.

Silence fell over us. Our minds, in sync, went mute. The phantoms of last summer guided us tonight. The warm silky water of a bath in his porcelain tub. The comforting scents of florals and memories. A trail of cloaks, robes, and clothes followed us to the bathroom and into the tub. My locket laid beside his family ring on the marble counter. His hands draped the water over my chilled skin, massaging away the tension in my muscles.

A year ago, there had been one mark on the two of us, now it seemed that there was no end to where our damage and scars were. And yet I didn’t feel shattered. I didn’t feel broken. Silent streams of tears trailed down our cheeks. They weren’t just of fear and anger, but perhaps also of relief and hope. What we dreaded had been done, now there were pieces to pick up. There was something to do. It wasn’t the brightest direction, but it was direction.

The shine of the moonlight reflected off of Draco’s eyes as we laid together in the comfort of clean cotton sheets. My fingers carded through the silver gossamer of his hair. I slipped into slumber in the comfort of the storms of his grey eyes.

My dreams were vividly bizarre. Trails of what ifs. Of almosts. Of what could have been.

A bright green flash coming from Draco’s wand. Coming from my wand. Draco dead in my arms. The last glimpses of life as I laid in Draco’s arms. Harry staring us both down, defending Dumbledore. Pinnae flying away in the night to a small home in the Grecian countryside and never looking back. Pinnae falling, falling, falling, flightless. Down from the Astronomy tower and to the cold unforgiving ground below.

A soft unintelligible mumble pulled me away from the free fall down. I was steadied. I was wrapped in comfort. I was draped in soft blankets and warm arms.

“Just a dream,” Draco slurred sleepily, his eyes not opening. “You’re okay,”

I hummed a response and curled back onto his chest, settling back into sleep.

___________________________

“He’s not going to forget her,” Severus huffed, pacing the room. “Y/n will have to prove herself,”

“I know,” Narcissa sighed, sitting beside her husband.

Lucius had not yet woken since he had been healed, and though Narcissa knew that he was not on the verge of death any longer, his health was still failing.

“She’s just a child,” Narcissa insisted hopelessly. “She has no business in all of this,”

“She doesn’t have a choice anymore Narcissa!” Severus declared. “She chose this path. She chose to stand beside Draco, and this is where that road leads!”

Silent tears fell down her cheeks, lost in a memory.

“It’s not safe for you Cissa,” Lucius’ voice was quiet and urgent. “Go now, before it’s too late,”

“I’m not leaving you,” Her stubbornness might kill her one day, but she wasn’t giving up on him.

“The Dark Lord will kill you, and I can’t lose you my darling,” Lucius stroked her cheek softly, “You’re too important,”

“Then you know why I must stay,” She closed her eyes leaning into his touch.

“Please,” Lucius begged. “If not for your life, then for Draco’s. He’s just a babe.”

“This family will stay together,” Tears stung her eyes. “He needs his father as much as he needs his mother,”

“You’re not going to like who his father becomes,” The whisper was barely heard. “Please Cissa,”

She shook her head, tears running down her cheeks and into his hands.

“She knows that,” Narcissa answered softly. “More than anything she knows the consequences of her choice.”

“And how can you be so sure?” Severus demanded.

“Because she was me,” Her fingers trailed down Lucius’ face gently. “I never thought I’d have to live through another war—to walk through another one with him,” She paused and turned to Severus. “But Y/n knows what she’s doing.”

“Then why are you so adamant on protecting her?” He demanded.

“For the same reason you are,” It could have been an accusation, but it wasn’t. It was sad and soft. Hopeless in a way.

“We can’t protect her in a desperate chance to change the past, Narcissa,” It was just as hopeless.

“But we can try, can’t we?”

Lucius’ hand was ice cold in hers. His body was still riddled with Dark Magic and his time in Azkaban had not aided it one bit. There used to be an inkling of warmth in his skin, but now, it had vanished.

“You’re welcome to stay,” She offered. “The invitation is always open,”

A quiet beat passed.

“I will.” Severus answered. “He’ll need more looking after. And so will she,”

“She will make it Severus,” Narcissa pressed as he went to exit the room.

“That’s what he said about Lily,”

In the morning, Narcissa found you and Draco curled up together in bed, still sound asleep though the hour was becoming closer to afternoon than morning. She didn’t dare to rouse you two. If you could manage to sleep, she’d let you.

When you were finally awake and presentable, both eating in the kitchen, Narcissa could see the determination and uncertainty in your eyes as well as the familiar unease in Draco’s. You two were having the same disagreement that she and Lucius had. Draco no doubt wanted you to hide away, to be safe. And Narcissa knew that leaving was the last thing that you were going to do.

“When do you think he’ll be back?” Your voice was small as you cradled your mug in your hands.

“It’s hard to say,” Severus answered. “Time doesn’t work the same for the Dark Lord. It could be hours; it could be days.”

You nodded and leaned against Draco. It made her heart soar when she watched the two of you together. Draco’s comforting and protective nature that came out for you. And the trust you had in her son. It made Narcissa believe that she might have done something right after all these years to see her son this contented.

“Come,” Narcissa smiled softly, offering her hand to you. “You should learn how to heal Dark Magic,”

Wide-eyed, you followed Narcissa up the stairs, Draco shadowing you both, and into her bedroom where Lucius was still sleeping. Leading you beside the bed, Narcissa drew her wand.

“The easiest is medicari,” She instructed. “It will heal any physical wounds. The deeper the wound the more times you should repeat the spell,” You two nodded softly.

“To cleanse dark magic from the bloodstream or body—expurgatio” Narcissa turned to Lucius and brushed a stray lock of hair from his face as she cast the spell. Under her wand tip drew forth an inky blackness from his chest.

“A lighting charm, my dear,” Narcissa instructed.

You drew your wand and cast the charm, drawing it near to the darkness at the tip of her own wand.

“Dark Magic, after drawn from the body and exposed to light—” you watched as the ink vanished. “—has nothing it can do but run and hide,”

Draco’s face held an air of thought as you remained quiet in thought for a moment. Narcissa could see that you were trying to form your words in such a manner that they made sense, and that they didn’t draw you into a breakdown. Draco’s hand slipped into yours. Your thumb gently traced the scar that ran along the back of his hand.

“Snape...” You began, “He—he used a spell. It sounded like song... when he was healing Draco,”

“The Song of The Lost Soul, yes.” Narcissa sighed softly. “It is not an easy feat to cast such a spell. Whereas many spells are one or a few words, The Song of The Lost Souls requires perfect cadence and pronunciation to be of any aid. If not, it is rendered useless.”

“But if it works?” You asked, curious, hope in your eyes and voice. “It’s one of the most powerful healing spells known to wizards.”

“I want to learn it,” Your determination didn’t surprise Narcissa in the slightest. A smile graced her face at the sight of your eagerness.

“In due time, my dear. For now, why don’t we begin with expurgatio,”

Slowly but surely, with each time you cast the Cleansing spell, your wand gripped more and more of the dark magic that plagued Lucius blood stream. Draco would touch a Lighting charm to the Dark Magic, and it would flee every time. After a while you paused and went quiet.

“I don’t want to have to hurt him,” the confession was soft from your lips. “But if I don’t...” Your eyes met Draco’s a hopeless expression on your face.

“I understand, my love,” Narcissa comforted. “I’ve walked in your shoes before. I know the sacrifices and choices you must face.” She took your hand and smiled softly. “You have a kind soul. A strong soul.” With a soft breath in she continued. “I taught you these spells, not only to aid you in your oncoming battles in this war, but also to let you know that whatever is done, may be undone.”

You processed the words, your eyes growing in realization. “You mean... you want me to...”

“Mother,” Draco’s brows furrowed, surprised himself.

“I don’t will it, no.” She confessed. “But I understand why it must be done. Stars above know the things I was forced to do to gain the respect I have among the Death Eaters...” She looked down at Lucius, “Though I do not think you are aiming for their respect nor should you, I do believe that it will be a comfort to know you won’t be killed.”

“I... I don’t even know if I can,” Your voice broke as your gaze dropped to Draco’s hand in yours. “All I see when I look at him, is you two... and I can’t... I can’t imagine hurting either of you.”

“That is not what the Cruciatus Curse entails, Miss Y/n,” Severus spoke, spooking you a bit as you jumped a bit and Draco’s arm wrapped around you protectively on reflex.

Severus stood from the armchair accompanying the window and neared the bed.

“The Cruciatus Curse was originally meant as a way for a wizard or witch to alleviate all of their anger and frustrations. It was a spell directed at the stars, never at a soul, never at another man. Of course, it became distorted over the year unto what it is now, but I digress,” The tone was familiar to Narcissa, and it seemed to you two as well—a formal teaching tone.

“So... I don’t... I don’t have to hate the person I use the Curse on?” You squeaked, your eyebrows drown in confusion and revelation.

“Not particularly, though it does help.” Severus took a tight breath in.

“But... in the bathroom... I used it on Harry,”

“And you were scared and angry,” Narcissa comfortingly placed a hand over yours. “All of your frustrations and fears that had been growing over those months were let out on Harry. Not that you loathed him specifically, but he was on the receiving end of your fury.”

____________________________

“So, I can cast the Curse with no intention of wanting to harm the person I’m casting it on?” Disbelief colored my tone. “How is that in any way safe? Or fair?”

“It’s not my dear,” Narcissa replied. “Which is the reason the ancients deemed it Unforgivable.”

“And I think you’ve seen that first-hand,” Snape remarked. “Though he is quite loathsome at times, I don’t truly believe that you hate Potter,”

“Debatable,” I muttered, causing Draco to chuckle beside me.

“You don’t,” Draco murmured in my ear. “Because I know you. You’re too kind,”

“He probably hates me,” My voice was weak and small. “You should have seen his face...” Worrying my lip, Draco pulled me in closer.

“Potter is very hot headed and impulsive,” Snape tried to comfort. “And he has no authority over you either,”

“But he’s the chosen one,” I protested, miserable. “Everyone cares about his opinion and what he thinks,”

“I think you’d find a few flaws in that statement,” A smile barely touched Snape’s lips. “You were quite the leader yourself in school. The students were just as willing to follow you as they were Potter,”

“Me?” I squeaked, my mind reeling. “But I’m just me. I’m not special. I’m not the chosen one. I’m just a bloody Hufflepuff for Merlin’s sake!”

“And that’s what everyone adores about you,” Draco interjected softly. “Though I’d like to go on record saying you’re extraordinarily special,” A smile played at his lips. “But things aren’t handed to you like they are Potter. You never had the advantage, and when you did, you used it to rescue the underdog,”

“Draco is right, the Slytherins are quite fond of you,” Snape’s eyes narrowed. “Sometimes I wonder why you weren’t one,”

“Anything’s better than Slytherin,” I muttered without thinking.

Draco laughed beside me, pressing a kiss to my temple. “There’s my Y/n,” He murmured softly. “I was getting a little worried there,”

The day was spent nursing Lucius back to health as best that Draco and I could. My trial of the Unforgivable forgotten for the moment. And I prayed that it would never come.

When Lucius’ cold grey eyes opened and landed on me, fear gripped my heart. But it was in vain. His hand reached out and covered mine as he nodded once, before closing his eyes once more in rest. Amity fell between us, knowing that there was forgiveness somewhere in my heart for him. Maybe it was a forgiveness that mirrored in Draco’s eyes as I sought him for reassurance.

“Happy birthday, love,” I whispered softly as the hour passed midnight as the two of us stared up at the stars.

“Don’t remind me,” He grumbled, causing me to laugh softly.

“And why not?” I mused, raising an eyebrow at him. “It’s not every day that you turn seventeen,”

“But you really wanna talk about it now?” He dismayed. “It’s not worth celebrating,”

“Look around Draco,” I pressed. “Look at how lucky we are to be alive right now,” Tears stung my eyes as I took his hand holding it tightly. “It’s more than enough to celebrate,”

He hung his head, closing his eyes, his shoulders rising with the deep breath that he took. Laying my head on his shoulder, I pressed to his side.

“It is enough,” He whispered softly, pulling me into his arms. “It’s more than enough,” His weak smile mirrored mine.

Draco’s hands came up and cupped my face softly, pulling me in for a calming kiss, sealing that us being alive was enough. That I was enough. That he was enough. That the quiet night with the fireflies and the stars watching over us was enough.

A letter came for me the next day from Prof—Lupin requesting me at the next Order meeting being held at Fleur and Bill’s cottage on the seaside not far from the Manor that night. The four of us debated whether or not it would be safe for me to go alone, knowing that I would be the only one allowed. And though Draco was hesitant, he urged me to go. A sadness lingered in Snape’s eyes at well, but he agreed. It was only Narcissa who had a qualm.

“They can track her Apparition,” She reasoned gently. “We need to keep the Order safe...” Her eyes met Snape’s, and something passed between them.

“I’ll fly,” I offered off hand. “No one will know that it’s me, and if they think I’m flying, then no one will be able to find me,”

“I’m not sure I follow,” Snape’s monotone voice seemed uninterested, but I could see that the questions burning behind his eyes.

“And that’s how it’ll have to be,” Draco took my hand, “Are you sure you can make the trip on your own?”

“You’re not coming with me, then we’ll be found,” I refuted the hope in his eyes. “I’ll have to go alone,”

And what Snape didn’t see was a white and bronze barn owl taking off toward the sunset, on her way to an Order meeting.

...............

“Lupin?” I gasped out, steadying myself from my transformation.

“Sirius said that you were able to do that... didn’t give much away thought,” Lupin mentioned offhand, almost talking to himself. “What took you so long?”

“Long flight,” I muttered, leaning against the door jamb of the little house. “They can track Apparition. At least mine, I guess.”

“Really?” He seemed surprised.

I nodded and fidgeted with my sweater. “They all hate me, don’t they?”

“It’s quite divided actually,” A smile ghosted at his lips. “Those of us who know you, we don’t, but those who got the story from Harry on the other hand...”

I groaned in defeat and rubbed my face. Then I held my head high and nodded.

“Alright,” I concluded, “I’m not afraid to face the consequences of my actions.”

Lupin smiled warmly. “I can see why Sirius liked you.”

“You miss him,”

“Yes,” He paused then continued. “But there is more to life. I’m sure you understand that,”

“Yeah,” I whispered. “Do you think he would have been proud of me? My dad?” I was almost too afraid to ask.

“More than you could ever know,” Lupin appeased. “In fact, that’s why a lot of us are so divided about what to do with you, because your father was in the same situation with your mother,”

“My mother wasn’t a Death Eater,” I muttered. “That complicates things doesn’t it?”

Lupin stared at me like I had two heads. “Y/n, your mother is a Death Eater. Or she was in the first war.”

I froze. My eyes going wide. There must have been true panic or horror on my face because Lupin neared me, placing his hands on my shoulders.

“Y/n, breathe,” Lupin instructed. “I thought you knew,” A soft shake of my head declined his statement.

“Well, that changes things a bit...” Lupin muttered. “We need to talk to Moody,”

“Will you—give me a minute...” I squeaked out, sinking into a kitchen chair. I hung my head in my hands, wishing nothing more to find comfort in Draco’s arms. He would know what to do. He would know what to say.

“What is she doing here?” A snarled voice asked.

Lupin’s arm shot out, holding me back from going off on Harry. Or maybe he was protecting me from Harry. I didn’t know. I wasn’t paying attention. I was too shellshocked.

“She is a part of the Order,” Lupin defended sternly. “She has a rightful place here,”

“So, we’re going to ignore the fact that she aided the murder of Dumbledore!?” Harry shouted.

Silence fell.

“No,” I whispered softly. “I helped kill Dumbledore,” My voice was soft and broken and obviously not what Harry was expecting. “I helped kill Dumbledore. I’m in love with a Death Eater. I’m the daughter of a Death Eater. I’m the daughter of a member of the Order of the Phoenix. I’m the child of a Slytherin and a Hufflepuff. My father’s dead and my mother’s gone.”

I spoke mainly to myself, but loud enough for everyone else to hear. “And I know that,” My eyes met Harry’s. “So, what are you going to do about it? Berate me? Scream how I don’t belong here? How massively fucked up my life is? Is that what you’re here to tell me?” My voice stayed soft and calm. “Because believe me, I already know,”

My words sapped all of the anger from Harry and caught the attention of the other members of the Order as they filed into the small kitchen. “It’s not about what I am, or where I come from, or who my parents are. It’s what I’m going to do from here on out and what I’ve been trying to do all along.” Again, I met stubborn green eyes. “I’m going to save Draco Malfoy. I’m going to fight for good. And I’m not going to let anyone, or anything stop me,”

There was something I realized about Harry in that moment where we differed immensely. He had no restraint and he never hesitated. He was hot headed and made rash decisions. He took everything that was offered to him and then some. The game he plays he takes and raises stakes without anyone else’s consent. He had an endless uphill just as I did. He had something to prove and almost nothing to lose.

I had everything to lose. Everything that I fought to keep. Everything that I fought to have. If he could thrive in the middle of the struggle, then I’d wait for my time to thrive.

I was willing to wait for it.

________________________________

“You think I don’t know what I’m doing!?” He roared, near tears. Remus placed a hand on his shoulder and Sirius held James back. “What would you do for Lily, Potter?” He straightened, shaking off Remus.

“My wife isn’t on the wrong side of the war!” James spat.

“It’s easy to love those who love you isn’t it? It’s easy to love the good, isn’t it Potter!?” The words held ice shards. “You think you’d understand. You’re a father as much as I am in this hell, you think I don’t want what’s best for my family!? What will keep them alive!?”

“Boys!” McGonagall shouted reprimanding them. “You two are acting like children. We are on the same side of the war here and unless we work together, we’re not going to survive.” Her stern look silenced them both.

“Walt,” Alice reached out as he went to leave, shifting a small bundle of sleeping blankets in her arms, “Please, we do want you here,” Frank came up behind her, reaching out for him.

“She’s right, Walt.” Frank affirmed. “You deserve your place here with the rest of us,”

“Thank you,” He nodded. “But I need to get home to Elizabeth and hope Y/n hasn’t been giving her too much trouble,” The fire had left from his voice and weariness remained.

The Longbottom’s nodded as he set out into the night, apperating back home. The small farmhouse in the outskirts of town welcomed him home more than any consoling word from the Order ever could. He knew that the two people he loved more than anything in the world were inside that farmhouse. The two people who never questioned him or denied his loyalty.

“Walt?” Elizabeth’s voice chimed up from the nursery.

“Yes, it’s me,” Maybe he didn’t hide his weariness well enough because a soft concerned look was on her face as she met him in the hallway.

“Maybe her and I should...” Elizabeth trailed off. “You wouldn’t have to...”

“You think I’d walk out on you? On our darling girl?” Walter shook his head and pulled his bride into his arms, tucking her head under his chin. “You two are worth more than a war,”

“I love you,” Her voice was broken as she clung to him, unshed tears in both of their eyes.

The soft cry of a babe broke their moment. Walter neared the crib to see a little pouting face start to snivel.

“Oh, now what is the matter?” He cooed softly gathering the child into his arms. “I’m right here sweetheart,”

Rocking her softly, her cries quieted, and large innocent eyes stared up at him. It was those eyes that made everything that James said, or Sirius muttered worth it. Those deep and trusting eyes that held wonder and love in their naivete.

Elizabeth placed a soft hand on his shoulder, and he turned, for the first time seeing the exhaustion on her face. He knew that no matter how harsh James was or how many times he came home feeling defeated, his love had a harder battle to fight. One that wasn’t built on love, and trust, and goodness. But wickedness, cruelty, and evil. He loathed having to see her bare that burden on her shoulders.

“I’ll put her down for the night,” He whispered softly. “You go on to bed. I’ll be there in a moment,”

Alone with his child in a quiet room on a peaceful night, he began to hum softly. He sang of sunshine and happiness in the midst of grey stormy days. When he looked into those eyes he knew for sure that no amount of Dark Magic would affect her soul that was laid bare in her gaze.

And her eyes went from wonder and awe to peace and slumber. Placed in her crib and warded by protection spells and charms and talisman, he headed to his Elizabeth.

She was combing through her long hair, sitting at the mirror in the bathroom. He came up behind her and rubbed her shoulders softly, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.

“How are you feeling?” He murmured softly.

“A little drained, but since having Y/n, and because Narcissa has her little Draco now, they seem very adamant to protect the two of us... you should see Severus stand up against him. He knows that Narcissa and I shouldn’t be doing Dark Magic... then Regulus backs him up and...” She went quiet, lost in the memory.

Curled up in bed, an amity fell over the house.

“Narcissa’s little Draco is just a darling,” Elizabeth spoke softly, curled up into his arms in bed. He could smell the florals and spice of her shampoo linger still in her long damp hair. “Such bright blue eyes. Just turned three months today,”

The days were gentle and calm, though fear came at the on every side. Some nights Walter would be left alone with his little girl, sometimes Elizabeth would. It depended on who had a meeting and where it was safe for their baby girl. And despite her kind nature, even barely a year old, there was worry underneath about what would become of her. It was new generation of Dark Magic, and branding. Two babes had been born from a parent with a Dark Mark, only little Y/n grew inside her mother who was riddled with Dark Magic. The other nurtured by a mother loyal to family.

The tiny babe wrapped in a soft pink knitted blanket had been cradled in Walter’s arms as the next Order meeting went on. Not that he paid much attention. His attention was divided between the warmth his darling offered, rocking her so that she stayed quiet, and then he gave half a mind to Dumbledore speaking about the Dark Lord. And in focusing on his babe, his mind wandered back to the innocence of his own childhood, of meeting his beloved Elizabeth.

She was draped in flowing green, looking as if she belonged in some high-end party, not a dance for grade school. It made his heart skip a beat when his eyes caught hers. Those eyes that held mystery and passion that he adored. They held secret study sessions in the library and elusive nights in the Astronomy Tower, desperate to keep their love a secret from their Houses and the other students.

“Go and talk to her,” Lily nudged his arm.

“You know why I can’t,” Walt sighed. “She’s a Slytherin,”

“Not all Slytherins are so bad...” Lily argued softly. “There’s hope for her too. For both of you,”

“You really think?” There was hope in his voice.

“Trust me,” Lily smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder. “She’ll love you being you.” Her eyes drifted to the crowd, finding a face that meant nothing to him but everything to her. “Go before you miss your chance. You’ve waited for her long enough,”

He heeded her words and made his way across the grand hall that was dressed for the holidays. She was standing with the Black sisters, two of which moved from his way, and one blocked him.

“What’s an ickle Hufflepuff doing here?” Bellatrix cackled. “You’re not wanted little badger,”

“Bellatrix,” Walter greeted politely. “I’m not here to entertain you, but rather ask for Miss Elizabeth to dance,”

The sisters turned to their honorary sister of House. Her cheeks flushed pink, but there was hope and joy shown in her eyes as she took his outstretched hand.

“Are you sure about this?” She whispered under her breath as he led to her to the dance floor.

“I’ve waited too long to show the rest of the world that I love you,” He affirmed, holding her close as the next waltz began.

Though he knew all eyes were on him and his love, he paid them no mind. Instead he focused on the scent of perfume that was mirrored in Amortentia. He focused on the sound of her pretty laugh and the way she threw her head back in joy. And more than anything he focused on those eyes that held his entire world.

“How long have you known?” Walter asked softly, stroking Elizabeth’s cheek.

“About a month,” She smiled, her hand cradling her stomach.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would have come home,” There were tears in his eyes.

“I wrote to Dumbledore, but I know you my love, you’ll fight until this war is over,” Tear fell down her cheeks softly. “I’m not sorry,”

“Neither am I,” Walter let out a hopeless laugh as his tears fell, holding his bride close. “How are we supposed to raise a child—”

“Just stay alive, that would be enough,” Elizabeth wrapped her arms around him. “And if this child has a fraction of your smile... of your heart... that would be enough,”

“If they had a fragment of your mind... look out world,” Walter smiled, pressing his lips to her forehead. “That would be enough,”

“Walter?” Frank drew him from his thoughts, from the eyes of his baby girl. Alice mirrored his stance, a smaller bundle of blankets cradled in her arms.

“Will you be our Secret Keeper?” Frank asked with a solemn tone. We need to hide, we need to keep Neville safe,”

Walter nodded; determination mirrored in both father’s eyes.

________________________

My Dearest Andromeda,

I hope that this letter finds you well, and I hope that you will give me the time to read it. I have much to tell you and much to ask that I know I am not allowed nor owed, but I beg of you anyway.

I know that your daughter is now married to Remus Lupin, and to which I congratulate the union. I know that Lupin will be good to her. But that is not why I have written.

My Draco and Y/n are now in very deep with the Death Eaters and I fear for them as I feared for our lives through the first war. And perhaps you understand because you managed to erase yourself from our family and flourished regardless. And for that I apologize and esteem you for.

You remember as well as I do how much our Elizabeth loved Walter, and now by some miracle, their child has been placed in my care after Elizabeth carried out her orders from the Dark Lord to keep her Y/n safe from him. She writes to me even still, asking about her child and is comforted by my words of her success and prosperity, knowing that she can never come back to her daughter while the Dark Lord is alive.

Which is why I beg of you to offer a place for dear Y/n to come and stay. I have offered my home, but the Dark Lord has demanded that the Manor be the base for his Death Eaters, and I cannot allow Y/n to be drawn under such an influence. She is good and I know it in my heart, and you can see it in her eyes, but I fear greatly as to what should occur if the Dark Lord manipulates her any further. She is powerful and has potential and power for great good and evil.

Please dear Andromeda, for the sake of Walter and Elizabeth and the second chance that they both gave the three of us. For their child who was marked from birth as was mine.

Your sister,

Cissy

______________________________

Narcissa,

Remus and Nymphadora have told me much about Y/n and the fire she possess in her heart just as her parents did. I have fallen in love with a girl I have not met yet and still I feel as if I am responsible for her as I am for my own Nymphadora.

With a heavy heart I mourn the years lost between us, but I can rejoice that the legacy of Walter and Elizabeth change and alter your heart even still. My heart goes out to Elizabeth as it goes to her daughter, as it goes to you and your son.

She is welcome in my home while school is not in season for her. She will be safe and protected here from the Dark Lord and his claws. I have no doubt that Bellatrix is also a reason for fear in your heart as much as the Dark Lord is. I pray that you come to see the light, and though I know there is barely a hope, I pray that for Bellatrix as well.

Send her at first light my dear Narcissa,

Your sister,

Andy

____________________________

“I have another aunt?” Draco asked.

“Yes,” Narcissa sighed softly. “She was disowned by our parents because she was a blood- traitor, much as Sirius Black was.” A quiet moment. “You also have a cousin, Nymphadora Tonks,”

“Tonks is his cousin!?” I gaped. “Hufflepuff, Auror, Metamorphmagus, Tonks?”

“Yes,” Narcissa nodded, a smile playing at her lips. “It seems that you two have quite a bit in common now that I think about it,”

“And...she’ll be safe there?” Draco asked hesitantly, taking my hand.

“She’ll have a home while she isn’t at Hogwarts,” His mother affirmed. “Now that your father is feeling better and the Dark Lord has decided to make the Manor his headquarters. There may also be a chance that she can escape her fate with Lucius...”

“I can’t stay,” I murmured the realization.

“No, I’m afraid not, but not for the main reason you think my dear,” Narcissa consoled, piquing my interest. Draco and I exchanged a glance and turned back to her. “Whether you knew it or not, you and Draco and connected, since you were born,”

“I’m sorry, what?” We both demanded, looking at each other once more.

“It is quite amusing how fate played out, having you two come together like this but... yes. During the first war there were two babes born with parents holding the Dark Mark that survived. One was paternal, one maternal.” She gauged our reaction.

“But...that doesn’t mean anything... does it?” I asked timid.

“No one knew and no one still knows. It simply means that you two were both destined for something beyond the ordinary,”

“If... we were both born marked,” Draco spoke like he would while walking through a complex spell or potion. “And I have the Dark Mark... wouldn’t that mean that she’s marked for it as well? That fate...” He trailed off, his grey eyes holding fear and discomfort.

“I’m fated for the Dark Mark,” I understood what he couldn’t bring himself to say. “And if I stay here...”

“Your fate would be sealed,” Narcissa sighed softly. “Which is why I need you to go to my sister, and stay away so that you might avoid this,”

I nodded and took Draco’s hand in mine

“I love you,” I whispered softly, just for him. “And I’m not afraid. I know who I chose,”

“As long as you come back to me,” He nodded.

Wrapped up tightly into his arms, I breathed in deeply, the last time I would be comforted by his arms until September. The beginning of the first chapter I had to write on my own until I found my way back to him.

Epilogue:

“Thank you, for your hospitality,” My voice held a soft tone, already missing Draco’s warmth.

“Of course, my dear,” Andromeda smiled. “Come,”

She showed me to a spare room that I assumed used to be Tonks’ because even cleaned up, I could see the chaos of her style linger still.

And though I thought I’d never make it through a night alone, let alone three months, somehow, they passed. Like the slow ticking of a clock that didn’t bother to mock me. Instead there was something reminiscent about the summer. Of writing letters to Draco and waiting for his to arrive. To be in a small home filled with happy memories and warmth of muggle books and films and music. It left me in tears more than I cared to admit, because it was something that I never thought would be mine again.

Something I didn’t know that I was waiting for, nor longing for.

Something that made three months seems like mere months, not an eternity waiting.

Chapter 12

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artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Kids Have Terrible Timing (Biadore) - Sarcastacnt

Summary; One of Roy and Danny’s two daughters has a tendency to get over excited at the smallest things and at the worst possible time for her fathers.

“We can always return her right?”

“See, this is what happens when we trust your genes. Let’s take a second to notice how the spawn with my genes is basically a Saint compared to her sister.”

Danny pulled a face and whacked Roy with a pillow. “Not what you said when she ruin, how many of your gowns was it again? 9?”

“It was 15 and you know it.” Roy grumbled still puzzled at how the then five year old Sabrina had gotten a hold of the gowns, let alone figured out how to work his sewing machine. Something that still eluded Danny.

“Let’s just agree that they’re both evil in their own special ways.” Danny offered, trying desperately not to laugh at the pained expression on Roy’s face.

Roy snorted, “Not much longer until they go through puberty. That’s when we cash in all those offers to babysit from Shane.”

Danny groaned and flopped down dramatically against the bed. “Two teenage girls in one house. What the fuck were we thinking?”

Roy shrugged, “Probably that at least one of them would be a boy.”

Danny laughed, “At least then they wouldn’t bug to borrow our drag. Well, your drag.”

Roy laughed at the memory of the two dark haired girls gasping in disbelief at the room full of princess gowns and lumberjack clothing. “Still can’t believe how good that read was, fucking lumberjack.” He was still snickering when Danny decided he was no longer comfortable laying on the bed.

With a surge of power from his left leg he moved to straddle Roy’s hips. “You’re the one who married a lumberjack Haylock.”

Roy automatically dropped his hands to rest on Danny’s thighs. “You married a princess, least I’m still gay in this version of reality.”

Danny snorted, “Whatever, that makes you a princess, least I’m still a man.” He leaned forward and licked Roy’s neck before whispering in his ear. “Although every single time I’ve fucked you while you were dressed as a princess was hot as hell. You really should let me fuck you in drag more often.”

Roy let out a groan as Danny squirmed on his lap. “Why would I put a bunch of clothes on for sex? Doesn’t being naked make everyone’s lives easier?”

Danny began kissing Roy’s jaw, taking a familiar path down to the collar of Roy’s shirt. “I meant when we preform asshole.” He said as he started to work the buttons of Roy’s shirt open.

Roy rolled his eyes, “Because normally after we preform you’re so fucking horny that you beg to get fucked.” Roy brought both hands crashing down on Danny’s ass, “Remember?”

Danny started to kiss his way down Roy’s chest now that the button down was pushed open. “Fuck yeah I do.” He looked up at Roy, eyes gone a little glassy with arousal. “Speaking of which, it’s been quiet for almost an hour. We should probably take advantage while we can.”

Roy chuckled and began to tug at Danny’s shirt. “You’re absolutely right.” When Danny didn’t move to remove his shirt quick enough, Roy rolled them so he was on top. He quickly pulled off the light sleep pants Danny wore and began stroking the already half hard cock. “Doesn’t take much to get you going, does it?” he teased before taking Danny’s erection into his mouth.

“Never has.” Danny admitted before groaning at the very talented tongue that was quickly turning his brain to mush.

Roy held out his hand, without stopping the blow job and Danny reached blindly for the small bottle of lube on the nightstand. He pushed it into Roy’s hand before letting his head fall back against the pillows.

Wasting no time, Roy lubed up two fingers and pressed them into Danny. It only took a few thrusts before Danny was demanding that Roy ‘stop fucking around and put your dick in me!’. With such a sweet request, how could Roy refuse? He pushed his own sleep pants down and lubed up his erection before taking a second to tease Danny’s entrance.

“Fuck me Roy!” Danny demanded, his hips lifting off the bed in frustration.

“Fine, but next time we have time I’m gonna make you pay for being an Impatient bitch.” Roy said as he grabbed Danny’s hips and started to push himself inside-

“DADDY!!!”

*CRASH, SLAM, BANG*

Roy didn’t know how he did it but somehow he got both of them covered up under the blanket before 6 year old Stevie managed to scramble up on the bed.

“Stevie remember how we talked about knocking? And you’re not listening to me at all, are you?” Roy sighed as he swung his legs over the far side of the bed and pulled his pants up. Danny had no chance to pull anything on, Stevie was not only on the bed but sitting happily on Danny’s stomach.

“Daddy! I found something cool! You gotta come see this!” the little girl had a big grin on her face as she waved her hands in the air. Stevie’s grin was an exact match for Danny’s (pre lip injections, of course). In fact Stevie was the spitting image of Adore, especially on the odd occasion her fathers put her in make up. Not only was the physical resemblance strong but both Stevie and Danny were two of the loudest people Roy had ever met.

A quiet knock at the open door caught Roy’s attention. He looked up to see blue eyed eight year old Sabrina shaking her head in exasperation. “Sorry dad, I tried to remind her to knock but…” she trailed off with a shrug, gesturing to the excited noises coming from the bed as Stevie and Danny talked about something Roy couldn’t quite catch.

Roy chuckled, “It’s okay, I understand my love. What were you two doing anyways? I thought we said goodnight an hour ago.”

Sabrina walked around the bed, giving it a wide berth. She had walked too close to the bed once during a similar situation just in time for Stevie to launch herself off the bed (much to her fathers horror) and land on not only her feet but her sister’s as well. “I showed her a book.”

Roy ached an eyebrow, “Why is she so excited about a book.”

Sabrina made a huffing noise as she crawled up on the bed to sit next to Roy. “There were no pictures in it.”

“You’re telling me your sister is losing her mind over a book, without pictures?” Roy could feel his eye start twitching.

Sabrina nodded, “Are you sure she’s really my sister?” she eyed Roy suspiciously.

Roy sighed, they had this conversation every few weeks. “Yes Rini, you both have the same mother, remember?” Roy remembered the initial thrill when they discovered that the surrogate they had used for Sabrina was more then happy to take on another pregnancy for the pair when they decided to expand their family a year and a half later.

“Are you really sure? Did you check?” Sabrina grilled her father as she watched Stevie and Danny (who had managed to pull pants on while he was distracted with Sabrina) rush out of the room to get a look at this ‘amazing book’ that Stevie had discovered.

“Yes Rini I’m a hundred percent sure she’s your sister. Besides she acts just like Dad, doesn’t she? I promise she’s part of this family.”

Sabrina frowned, “Whatever. I’m gonna go make sure they don’t break my stuff.” She hopped off the bed, her long twin braids floating behind her as she stormed off after them.

Roy fell back into bed and began laughing uncontrollably. He had no idea which part of the last five minutes he found so funny. The interrupted sex, Stevie’s excitement over a book without pictures or Sabrina’s continued irritation that her sister was insane.

Tears were streaming down his face, high pitched giggles still escaping him and abdominal muscles cramping when Danny returned.

“She’s nuts.” Danny proclaimed as he flopped down next to Roy.

A minute later, Roy managed to get his laughter under control. “Was she really that excited over a book with no pictures?”

Danny nodded, eyes wide in disbelief. “War and Peace! I didn’t know books could get that big! That shit’s more complicated then anything I ever read!”

Roy nodded, “Katya was reading it last time her and Trixie were over with their hellspawns. She probably forgot it here.” They almost always used drag names when referring to Brian and Brian just to save themselves the confusion.

Danny snorted, “Least we had time to breathe between kids. I don’t know how they managed 3 at once! Like who even has triplets?”

“Trixie and Katya do, poor bastards. If two teenage girls seems like a nightmare waiting to happen, imagine three hormonal teenage boys. The structural damage alone may just bankrupt them! If those two weren’t bald already that’s what would finally do it. Trying to figure out how much to add to the budget for household repairs every week.” Roy mused, choosing to ignore the fact that while he and Danny did in fact have one less kid, one of said kids shared genetic material with Danny. Roy hoped, not for the first time that Stevie calmed down as she got older. Last thing he needed was one of his daughters proudly proclaiming to be a ‘messy slut’. The thought of the generally sweet (if loud) Stevie strutting around in a mini skirt and low cut shirt made Roy shiver in fear.

“We’re never gonna have sex again, are we?” Danny half heartedly complained, lacing his fingers with Roy’s as they looked at each other with tired smiles on their faces.

Roy released Danny’s hand and rolled so he was on top of his husband. “So dramatic.” Roy teased as he captured Danny’s lips in a breath taking kiss.

It wasn’t long before Danny was a moaning, begging mess under him. Roy sighed in relief as he entered Danny roughly, rather pleased with himself for the broken sound that tore itself from Danny’s lips.

“DADDY!!!!”

“I’m taking her back!” Danny proclaimed loudly as Roy pulled away from him and managed to get their pants back on before Stevie came flying into their room again. This time she was screaming something about the ‘coolest bug ever!

Wasn’t parenting fun?

A/N Thank you to the annon who requested a kid fic where Roy and Danny keep getting interrupted. Swore I’d never write one of these but hey, here we are! I’m also tempted to continue this but for the moment it stands alone.

The girls names; Stevie is named for Stevie Nicks of Fleetwood Mac fame and Sabrina is name for an alternative name for a boat neck collar. I know nothing about fashion so that’s what a quick Google search pulled up.

As for the teasing each other about which kid has which genes, it doesn’t mean they love either kid less then the other. I think most parents like to harass their partner about who is responsible for which less desirable trait their off spring demonstrates. Like when Sarabi says to Mufasa in The Lion King “Before sunrise, he’s your son.”

#rpdr fanfiction #biadore #adore delano #bianca del rio #canon compliant #parenting au #kid fic #married #fluff #almost smut #request fic #sarcastacnt

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redhawtriot · 4 years

Text

Caught in The Act (Bakugou x Reader x Todoroki)

ONE MORE CHAPTER LEFTTTT!!! I honestly loved how fun this has been with you all! It’s gonna be bittersweet to end it for sure

Love you

HnM💕

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Finale

Part 5:

Your fingers anxiously danced against the back of his hot neck as you ingested his expression. Todoroki was always an extremely difficult person to evaluate, even when the two you were at your closest, so it was no surprise that you were unable to pinpoint his emotions. You could, however, narrow it down to something similar to discomfort… maybe sadness?

Your fingers halted their dance as you suddenly gathered him into a hug. You deepy sighed against his chest as your fingers slowly dropped from around his neck to meet with his face instead, “God, you’re so right,” you shook your head, trying to rid yourself from the guilt that ate at you, “It wouldn’t be fair to Bakugou, and I would be putting myself on his level by moving on so fast, anyway.”

He grabbed you softly by your wrists and floated them down as he stared purposefully at you, “This has nothing to do with him,” he tenderly reprimanded, “Let’s give us some time. It’s all about you properly healing. You said that to me once, remember? In U.A.?”

You totally had said those words to him in high school. It wasn’t the same situation, but comparisons could be made, you guessed. When you first met Todoroki, you had naturally gravitated towards him due to the stoic demeanor of his that mirrored your own. As time went on, you had found, however, that the similarities had not just ended there.

His father, much like your own, was a very miserable man, who committed very miserable acts of hatred against his own children. You had spoken those words of encouragement to Todoroki after he had lashed out on you because of his deeper-rooted pains.

“Yeah I guess you’re right,” you blinked, completely unprepared for the barrage of memories dating back to your high school days.

“Trust me, I have never craved affection like I crave it from you,” he reassured as he dropped your hands fully so they dangled by your sides, “but it wont do either of us good to rush into things right now. For now, let’s not even expect to start a relationship. Maybe expectations are what messed us up last time.”

You and Todoroki had vowed to try things again one day when he had become more comfortable with himself, as to not wear down your already fragile relationship. It had worked for the most part— mostly thanks to his other best friend Midoriya keeping him centered. You and Todo had become close again in no time at all—pretty much inseparable.

Pretty much.

As your shell broke, mostly due to your friends in class 1-A, you had begun to gravitate towards a certain explosive boy. Bakugou pretty much pulled out a side of you that felt as natural as breathing— like you had been holding your breath for years as you desperately tried to maintain an image of yourself that you thought would protect you, and when you two started dating it was like a weight had been lifted from your lungs.

You would still maintain a calm demeanor for the most part, because it was what made you feel safe, but you could finally expand your lungs again, having some flexibility in the persona.

Honestly the person had completely shattered once Bakugou cheated on you. Much like what had happened to All Might a few years back, your flexing form withered away little by little until you were eventually only able to conjure it in spurts.

But were you happy about that? You had nothing to hide behind now. You were completely bare and out in the open.

Honestly you were to blame as much as anyone else for that. You saw the signs ahead of time. You just didn’t want to admit it. Bakugou was cold, distant, rude, arrogant, hotheaded, and apparently disloyal. GOD!

Were you an idiot or what? Young you really dumped Prince Charming and got engaged to the fire breathing dragon.

You snapped yourself out of your thoughts once more as you raised your eyebrows together and looked at the man trying to keep his distance from you, “Todoroki… we were just kids. There’s nothing else to it.”

“Even so,” he smiled, but you swear that a flash of remorse flew across his expression, “I am just happy that we are friends again. I would be just fine with that for now.”

You reluctantly agreed as you tried to flash him a slight smile.

You and Todoroki had mostly stayed true to your agreement. At first, it was hard. Maybe it was the fact that you guys had been completely starved from each other for an entire year, but the tension that resided over the two of you was almost overwhelming.

Luckily, or unluckly, depending on how you want to look at it, Fae made a fixed habit of interrupting the two of you as soon as tensions became too sweltering. It was almost as if she had a cock blocking quirk. But no, her quirk was printing her thoughts on blank papers, which helped her a lot in her profession: writing.

She would often times come bursting in with her usual, “Oh! I’m sorry! I hope I am not interrupting something!” which the two of you would furiously deny before she would have Todoroki skim over her latest work in literature.

Over time her Cockblocking became less an less, but only because the intense moments became less an less. Time flew very quickly as the passing days where you would find yourselves in awkward, close-proximity situations, moved on to weeks where you would accidentally say something with too much sexuality in your voice, which finally moved on to months where the two of you would only steal lingering glances from one another.

All in all, you two eventually could cohabit without wanting to jump each other’s bones. You went on to working as a high school teacher as usual, he went on to working as a top hero as normal, and everything became rather smooth sailing from there.

Until it didn’t.

“Get the hell out of my way, you IcyHot bastard!!”

“Kachhan, we have to work together if we want to stop this guy!!”

“SHUT THE HELL UP, DEKU!!”

A group of heroes had gathered in the middle of the city square to corner a gigantic kaiju villain with an arbor quirk. The open space would allow for the heroes to minimize the already skyrocketed property damages due to his people-sized thorn projectiles. Ground Zero scoffed as he tried to distance himself from the other heroes and zero in on the villain by himself.

Kirishima frantically scrambled after his best friend. He knew that Bakugou certainly had not been in a good mood that day. He had hardly found any good days with the man since you had left two months ago frankly,

“Hey, Bakugou man, calm down!” Kirishima pleaded as he held his arms up to block his friend from moving closer to the villain, “We’ll never take this guy if you can’t keep your cool and focus!”

“Fucking watch me! I’ll take him down my damn self!” Bakugou threw a warning blast directly in Kirishimas face. Due to his quirk the blast didn’t hurt him at all, but it did send him back a few steps, allowing for Bakugou to move around him, “You think an extra like him is enough to keep top heroes down?!”

Kirishima blinked at his friends choice of words before a huge smile tore across his face, “So you believe in us? That’s thinking like a man, Bakugou!”

“Dammit, stop twisting my words, Kirishima!” the man fumed as his hands crackled angrily, “That’s not what I said, you dumbass!” he finished before Todoroki and Midoriya suddenly appeared by their side.

“Kachhan, you and Todoroki have to flank him from the right while I stay with the long range fighters up front as a distraction!” Izuku commanded. The man must have felt unimaginable pressure in the situation since he was the top hero, “Kirishima! You have to finish leading the evacuation. There are still people that need saving from under the rubble.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!!” Bakugou roared before begrudgingly heading to the right flank alongside Todoroki, “Just stay out of my way,” he growled.

“It likely wont be a problem, since you’ll have trouble keeping up with me anyway,” Todoroki coldly replied as he sped ahead of the blond, sliding on his ice.

“The HELL did you just say?!” The explosive man screeched before using the blasts in his hands to propel himself next to Todoroki again.

Todoroki didn’t even throw him glance, “Focus on the mission and being so damn irate.”

“Focus on this, asswipe!!” Bakugou roared as he blasted the other man away from him.

“Cut it out.” Todoroki lowly warned as he fixed himself to send the giant tree villain a sharp ice attack. Bakugou simply growled in response,

“Just get out of the way then, half and half bastard,” he seethed as he sent a series of wild explosions toward the villain. They were highly effective but knocked into the ice cage that Todorki had set up, allowing the kaiju to move enough to send a barrage of heavy splinters toward the two.

“LOOK OUT!” Izuku screamed right before the two managed to narrowly doge being impaled to death. The large splinters found their way whizzing past the two, piercing many buildings behind them. Todoroki clenched his fists tightly as crystals began to form on his hand,

“You’re acting like a child!”

“Maybe if your ice wasn’t so damn weak we wouldn’t be in this mess right now!” the blond spat back.

“Just STOP the nonsense, Bakugou!” he screamed very uncharacteristically, “I want to make it back home to Y/N in one piece,” he finished wildly.

Bakugou’s heart immediately shriveled inside of his chest, “What…” as Todoroki stormed back toward the villain, Bakugou felt as if the world around him was moving at a much slower pace and he replayed the other man’s words in his mind again.

Because he couldn’t have heard that right.

It felt as if one of those thorny projectiles had actually managed to stab him in the chest, as he tried to figure out with that damn mismatched loser had tried to insinuate. He loudly growled in frustration as he sent a colossal Howitzer impact towards the giant tree of a man, setting him aflame with a thunderous screech.

Bakugou found himself frozen again as he realized that no matter how loud he screeched, no matter how many things he blasted, this pain would never go away. It had been months and yet it was as if he still had a fresh, life threatening wound.

His faltering gave Todoroki and the other heroes the opportunity that they needed to rush in, extinguish the fire and contain the bad guy.

Bakugou watched the world slowly move around him before he fell limp, grabbing his throbbing wrist. No matter how many times his brain tried to reassess it could only come up with one scenario: you had ended up with Todoroki again—just as he always feared you would.

Bakugou didn’t even realize just how much the back of his eyes stung until Todoroki had spoken up to him once more, “There now was that so difficult?”

The blond kept his eyes low as he silently stormed away from the battle scene, leaving the other heroes baffled and confused as they watched his quiet form stalk away.

After the situation had been properly handled, Kirishima casually came home after work, just as he always did—completely unsuspecting of the shit show that he was about to walk into,

“Bakugou, man! We really could have used you out there for cleanup!”

“The mismatched bastard seemed to think he had everything under control,” he grumbled as he walked away from his sweaty, filthy roommate, “I’m sure even you guys could handle it,” he sneered without throwing him even a glance.

“That’s not the point!” Kirishima argued with furrowed eyebrows as he followed his friend. What the hell was he thinking? It was like Bakugou had completely forgotten all those years of training to be a hero,

“There were people who still needed saving, and you turned your back on them. I mean, you’re lucky no one died, man!” Kirishima had expected the other man to quite literaly explode at his words. The redhead was completely unprepared for the awkward silence that densely sat inbetween the two as Bakugou paused and stared at the ground in front of him.

Kirishima worried for a moment that maybe he had been too hard on his friend before the silence broke.

“Did you know…?” Bakugou finally croaked, “about, Y/N and Todoroki?” he grimaced at the ill feeling that the phrase left in his mouth.

“What?!” Kirishima gasped, “No! of course I didn’t... Seriously!? A-are you sure?” His eyes widened substantially.

“Why the hell would I make something like that up, huh??” Bakugou sharply grabbed Kirishima by the shoulder straps before throwing him against the wall, releasing him.

“Okay, man….” Kirishima cautiously began , “I am just gonna come out at say it! You need to talk about what happened between you and Y/N.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he huffed as he stiffly threw his hands into his pocket and walked to his room, slamming the door behind him. Kirishima sighed before walking up to the door,

“Hey Bakugou, I am your friend, man,” he argued into the wooden barrier, “You can talk to me! I can see that it’s eating you up inside. I just want to h—”

“Cut that shit out, Kirishima. I don’t want to talk,” his muffled voice sounded from the other side. Kirishima sharply bit his tongue as he debated on saying what was on his mind.

Fuck it.

“I’ve seen that ring in your pocket,” he breathed, “You still carry it around after all this time. I know you miss her like crazy. She was a great woman to you, but… it might be time to let her go, man,” even his own heart broke at the words that spilled from his lips, but he continued, “How are you supposed to do that if you can’t even talk about what went dow—"

Bakugou suddenly ripped the door back open, revealing his furious expression, “You don’t think I know that? Huh?! I know how amazing she is, fucking shitty hair. I’m the one who dated her remember?!” He screamed in Kirishima’s face, “No matter how many times you fucked her in that pervy little brain of yours, I am the one she slept next to every night. And now??” His voice cracked, “I’m alone every night with my fuck ups eating at me. How I let my soulmate down-- I let everyone down!!” He screeched.

Kirishima could only stand frozen with a horrified expression plastered onto his face, leaving Bakugou to scoff at him,

“Oh, What?! You didn’t think I knew?!” He angrily wiped his teary eyes with the back of his hand, “How you looked at her? How you found every excuse in the book to wedge yourself into our time together? That night, you told me that you didn’t want her to leave us. There is no us, you delusional bastard. It is me and her. Or was,” he angrily threw a quick glance up at the ceiling as he tried to hold back his tears,

“And you cant even spring up that familiy bullshit. Its not exactly the three amigos when you look at her like apiece of meat.”

“Look who’s talking,” Kirishima lowly muttered to himself.

“What the FUCK did you just say?!” Bakugou screeched as he shoved he other man hard into the wall behind him, leaving an obvious crack.

“Look, Bakugou, man, I know that you are hurting right now,” the calmer man began as he hardened and swatted Bakugou’s hands away from him, “but I am not about to feed into your anger, bro. I just want to help.”

“How the hell are you supposed to help me?” Bakugou shoved him again, earning a cautionary glance from Kirishima, “Can you help me erase what the fuck I did!? Can you help me get her back???” he shoved the other man over and over agin.

“You cheated!! I don’t think there is going back from that with her!!” Kirishima loudly blurted finaly.

“What the fuck do you know, loser?!” Bakugou screeched, his voice cracking as the back of his eyes dared to burn from his head. Kirishima walked away rather than try to indulge in his friend’s behavior, but Bakugou wasn’t having it, “Don’t walk away from me, bastard!!” he charged after the man, “Hey! We aren’t finished,” he screamed as he threw a blast directly into Kirishmias face.

His wrists still hurt from his altercation earlier but he didn’t care has he sent a barrage of assaults Kirishima’s way. Kirishima could only throw his arms up and initiate his quirk.

“Fight back dammit,” Bakugou wasn’t even trying to hold his voice back from falling apart anymore as tears agressivly rolled down his cheeks.

After a while of just taking it, Kirishima had finally had enough, “You haven’t even tried to fix things with her!” he erupted before the smack of his hardened fist against Bakugou’s face echoed against the walls, “You’ve just been avoiding everything that you are feeling and bottling it up until it explodes. And then you start all over again. You’re never going to get her back with that cycle!” Bakugou had fallen to the floor but was steadily picking himself back up,

“Shut up!” he snarled as his weakening muscles failed underneath him, sending him back to the floor.

“I mean at least try, man!” kirishima threw exasperated clenched fists into the air, “Do you even care that you’ll never be with her again? Or are you just one big self-pitying party?”

“I SAID SHUT THE HELL UP!!!” Bakugou roared as he sent a final large explosion Kirishima’s way. The redhead could hardly harden in time before the blast reached him.

After the smoke had cleared a hungry flame was revealed.

“Shit, man.” “Fucking hell.”

The two men could only watch in horror as the flames greedily began to eat away at their home, growing and destroying anything in their path.

Meanwhile.

You had a fire of your own to deal with,

“Hot, hot, hottt!!” you tried to ventilate your mouth with sharp sucking breaths as you tasted the gumbo that you were preparing. You were entirely too used to cooking for Katsuki for all those years.

“Hey, Y/N!” you heard Fae’s light voice sound from the front lving room, “Come on out, I would really like for you to meet my little sister before we head out!”

Oh yeah, you had forgotten that she was coming over today. Fae’s sister hardly ever stopped by, but you’d been dying to meet her after all of the funny stories Fae had shared about her,

“Okay coming, just gimme a sec!” You threw a pitying grimace to the pot of food you had been slaving over, “Hope she likes spicy food.” You whispered to yourself before throwing the stove on low and making your way to the living room,

“Sorry, I was just fixing up dinner! Hope you like Gum… bo.” Your word barely managed to find its way out of your mouth as you threw a horrified expression to the nightmare in front of you.

“Y/N, this is my sister, Farrah,” Fae’s sweet smile greatly contrast the soup of hot, disgusting feelings that had been simmering in your pot for two months.

Her sister, Farrah? You mean the same girl you had found pinned to your grandmother’s dresser two month ago.

“H-holy Shit! Sis, this is that crazy bitch I was telling you about!” Farrah anxiously tapped Fae on the shoulder, much like she had Bakugou that night.

Do you tell her about herself and calmly walk away from the situation? Or do you BEAT THAT HO ASS?

YOU DECIDE!

Follow this link to cast your vote!

#bakugou x reader #todoroki x reader #bakugou imagine #todoroki imagine #interactive story #mha #bnha #my hero academia #my hero fanfic #my hero academia fanfiction #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha imagines #bnha imagines

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inkribbon796 · 3 years

Text

It’s Not Rabies, It’s . . . Ch. 2

Summary: With yet another demon on the loose in Egoton, King gets a lucky break when Dark finds them first.

A/N: This was a suggestion-request from the anon Nightfall on AO3. Which resulted in this story and since this one was getting a bit long it inspired a bit for the Visitation Day on Sunday which will be a lot less angsty.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3

Chapter 2: Airing Out Grievances

Lunky was following a specific trail now, the densest aura trail in all of Egoton: the Entity’s.

Fortunately for the entire city Dark was having an early morning. He’d been woken up early by the Host. The seer had warned him that he should be on the lookout for something coming to attack him. So he was braced in his warehouse.

Green noticed something first. His scans picked up something but he couldn’t see it. So Dark came to his location and saw that there was a new aura trail in the center of his territory. It was a new demon.

At first he was furious, the audacity of this vile creature! When Dark found them he would show them no—

Why was Kay’s aura here?

Anger turned to trepidation. At first he thought — was afraid— that Kay had been violently attacked because his aura was all over the place, meshed in a weird way with a new demon aura. He almost attacked it outright before realizing it was an infantile demon, and Kay aura wasn’t on it because it had attacked the young man. Kay’s aura was a part of this demon. Just like Wil’s aura existed inside all of his children’s aura.

In fact there was still a minute trace of Wil’s aura in the mix.

This was Kay’s child!

Dark felt a myriad of emotions. Confusion about how this had happened. When it had happened? Fear for the fact that this spawnling was wandering around a town crawling with demon hunters. And—

The Entity’s racing thoughts were cut off when the spawnling bit down on his aura.

“Hey!” Dark shouted, pinning the spawnling down.

Or at least he tried to. The spawnling had seen Dark teleport in and lunged out to bite his aura. But because Lunky wasn’t three-dimensional, Dark’s hands contacted with nothing. He had to use his aura to do it.

And no sooner did Dark’s aura come into contact with Lunky, did something in Dark recoil. Not because Lunky could do any real damage to him or was repugnant in some way.

But Dark aura naturally stuck to things. Kay would know Dark had been in contact with his child. And Dark couldn’t get his aura on the spawnling . . . he knew how furious that would make Kay.

The young man wanted nothing to do with him, hadn’t for years. Surely this would just be another part of Kay’s life Dark was not allowed to touch.

The Entity’s blue soul was already screaming in frustration and fury. Dark had to get the spawnling back to Kay before his blue soul threw another fit. Those were never fun to manage.

So with a quick spell Dark trapped Lunky into a small area without having to use his aura. He was trying to think of something. He couldn’t just leave the spawnling to their own devices, they were too new, too juvenile to survive in this city on their own.

Fortunately for Dark Illinois came running out and after a sharp order from Dark, Illinois grabbed a piece of printer paper and they trapped the enraged, screaming demon onto the paper.

Illinois cheered in triumph, chuckling, “So this is the new demon in town that everyone’s freaking out about? Seems harmless to me.”

“No, this is Kay’s spawnling,” Dark corrected. “I don’t think this one’s existed long enough. They don’t even have their own independent aura yet.”

“Wait, his what?” Illinois shouted in shock. “How did— When did Kay have a kid?”

“Less than a week ago,” Dark said, looking at the spawnling for a bit.

“Did he tell you he was having a kid?” Illinois demanded, wounded. “He didn’t tell me.”

“No,” Dark told him.

“Why wouldn’t he tell us? Is he seeing someone? There is some partner out there we need to threaten.” Illinois became more resolute by the second.

Dark tried to keep his face emotionless, ordering his red soul to keep her brother from acting out. A slow realization dawning on Dark: Wil’s children were even less human than he suspected. “Demons don’t need a partner to have a spawnling. Kay could have had this child with no outside help if the conditions were right.”

“Oh,” Illinois managed. Then his head started to spin and turn with the implications of that. “What would having other people’s aura in the mix do? Would that work or make something new?”

“Providing the aura was in significant amounts, I would think it would make something new, why?” Dark asked.

Illinois went beet red, “Uhhh, I . . . uh.”

Thankfully Illinois was saved when King came around the warehouses. He was in a warm jacket and gloves, slipping a bit on the ice. Yancy hot in his heels and the Host following at a bit slower pace.

“Hey Kay,” Illinois smiled, holding up the paper. “Lose something?”

King looked relieved when he saw that very familiar image. “You guys did find them.”

Illinois’s smile got more devious, “What happened to being responsible and adult, huh? Maybe you should have worn a condom when you let the forces of nature fuck you over?”

“Hey!” King dove in to take Lunky back. “Don’t teach them those words yet!”

“They got a name?” Illinois asked.

“Lunky,” King said, uncertain. “That’s what the Host told me anyway. They respond to it, which is good because they don’t know how to communicate with me yet.”

Illinois snickered, “Lunky, what kind of name is that?”

“Shut up, it’s their name,” King defended heatedly. “Your name is Illinois, we could stand here and make fun of each other’s names all day.”

Illinois held up his hands in surrender, “Fine, fine.”

Dark had internally balked at the name, but he kept quiet. Whatever the spawnling’s name was, wasn’t really any of his business. Or it shouldn’t have been.

“Is the little fella okay?” Yancy asked concern, before smiling sweetly at the spawnling. “Youse gave us the run around all o’er town, didn’t youse?”[1]

Lunky let out a chittering hiss that Yancy didn’t know how to understand.

“Uhh, Squirrel Whisperer, youse got a word ‘a that?”[2] Yancy asked.

“Yancy should allow the Host to help,” the Host offered, walking forward.

“Sure, why’s[3] the hell not?” Yancy shrugged.

The Host took the paper and with a couple words shook the paper and what appeared to be a human child shot out. King lunged to catch the child, they were heavier than he expected. They looked like an almost exact copy of King when he was about three-years-old. And they were screaming and hissing in rage.

“And voila,” the Host announced, making sure a little bit of his aura extended out so that Lunky could start nibbling at it, calming the spawnling down. “The Host has solved their problem now that Lunky is three dimensional.”

“This solves nothing,” King reminded him. “I have a kid. I haven’t got anything for them. Don’t people usually have like nine months to prepare for one of these?”

“Hey youse[4] got me,” Yancy smiled.

King managed a smile, and a nervous chuckle, “This kid is doomed, you know that though, right?”

“Hey, I’d be a great uncle,” Yancy defended heatedly.

“I know, that’s not what I meant,” King smiled.

While the three adults were talking the spawnling was looking at Dark, and the Entity was staring back at him. The two demons weren’t breaking eye contact; the contact wasn’t hostile, it just wasn’t breaking.

Dark tried to memorize the spawnling’s image, hoping that the next time he saw Kay’s child he would still recognize the aura. His blue soul’s screams were echoing off the inside of his skull, trying to claw his way to Kay’s child. But Dark had made sure that his echo stayed very close by.

King quickly noticed that Dark was staring at Lunky. He felt very defensive. When his and Dark’s eyes met that snapped something inside the animal magnet.

“We need to talk,” King told Dark, the Entity’s eyes slowly rising to meet his son’s eyes.

“Very well,” the Entity sounded disinterested.

“Is there a way we can have this “discussion” without screaming in front of the kid?” King asked the Host sharply.

“Yes the Host, Yancy, and Illinois can take King’s child for a bit,” the Host allowed. “The Entity and the King of the Squirrels should take their discussion inside.”

The Host’s eyes bled a bit and suddenly King and Dark were in Dark’s office, standing on either side of the Entity’s desk.

King finally hit the end of a long fuse that had been burning for a very long time.

“You were elated when you saw them, weren’t you?” King tried to keep his tone civil. “I’m a demon just like the rest of you.”

“Don’t be absurd, I didn’t feel anything,” Dark denied.

That just got King angrier. “I was always too human for you, your little white sheep you couldn’t get to do what you wanted.”

“Why would what you were matter to me?” Dark dismissed. “I didn’t bring you into the Manor to make a demon out of you. I did it because Bim needed siblings. I didn’t have any expectations for any of you except to stay alive.”

The last moment Dark had seen Arthur lingering haunting in his mind. A child he had failed to care for.

“I won’t involve myself,” Dark told King, eager to have the discussion over with. It would take forever to calm his blue soul down. Then he added when he saw the slight confusion on King’s face, “with . . . with Lunky. Besides it’s obvious that you don’t want me in either of your lives.”

“Why wouldn’t I let you near Lunky?” King demanded, angry but not furious enough to not catch what Dark was actually saying. “You’re his grandfather.”

That word punched right through all of Dark’s mental and emotional walls. He had to leave! He should have made himself scarce when Kaylor arrived. But he was too greedy and eager to see the boy again.

“Wil is his grandfather,” Dark bit back, stepping to the side of his desk and throwing open a portal. “Should you need anything, you know where I am.”

“Where do you think you’re going?” King demanded, his anger stoked again. “You always run off when I try to have a real conversation.”

“What else is there to talk about?” Dark demanded, his own frustration getting the better of him. He needed to leave. “You hate me, you don’t want me anywhere near you or your child. There is little to negotiate on the matter. I’ll tell Wil about them, unless you wish to do that yourself, and stay out of the way.”

It’s not fair! It’s not fair! He’s mine! It’s not fair! His blue soul was frantic and furious.

We need to leave! His red soul was no less desperate to be heard but pulling him in the opposite direction.

I know! What do you think I’m trying to do? And Dark was stuck somewhere in the middle of the two of them.

“I don’t hate you,” King snapped in frustration. “You always fucking make this about you. Do I think you’re an egotistical narcissist who would sooner kill himself than be a decent person? Hell yes. But I don’t hate you. I don’t regret being adopted by you, and I know the others don’t regret it either.”

“Don’t patronize me, Kaylor,” Dark scoffed, his tone was calm but the fact that his aura was pitching up and down betrayed the fact that he was furious. “I know the Host still needs me to cooperate with his plans. I’m not going to go back on that. You were always the smart one between all your siblings, you always knew what I was and you left the first chance you got.”

Then Dark felt it, his blue soul trying to shatter off a bit so he could reach out for Kay. Not to hurt him, never to hurt the boy. It had been years since Dark had set his hand on King and his blue soul wanted to hold the boy again and Dark snapped, grabbing his blue aura and slamming him back against the wall behind him.

While King couldn’t see anything he saw Dark’s shadowy aura lash out at something a couple feet in front of him and objects on the far wall rattle a bit when something hit the wall. He instinctively jumped.

I said no! Dark reminded his blue soul.

Dark was quick to subsume Damien’s blue soul back in. Something his soul did kicking and screaming, Dark couldn’t silence all the splintering and echoes, but when it was over Dark turned to King, “Ignore him, he’s been out of sorts all day.”

“What was that?” King asked, his anger cooled significantly.

“Nothing you need to worry about, I have it under control,” Dark told him.

“No, no,” King insisted. “We’re talking about this, were you about to attack me?”

“Don’t be absurd, if I haven’t attacked you even as a threat in almost twenty years I’m not going to start now. Sometimes my aura gets a bit presumptuous and I have to put it back in its place.”

“So what was it going to do?” King demanded.

That clearly got Dark defensive. “Why do you care? It wasn’t going to hurt or attack you?”

“I care because it concerns me,” King told him. “Why is it so bad that you can’t tell me?”

Dark considered just leaving. This wasn’t Kay’s problem, it was his. And he couldn’t just . . . he wasn’t allowed to . . .

With a deep exhale, Dark gave himself another second or two. Then his left hand had more of his light blue aura than his red and he reached out for King’s closest hand. He had his hand in a very loose half-hold where only the pads of his fingers were touching him, giving King more than enough opportunity to take his hand away.

King didn’t take his hand away, watching Dark in confusion a bit before he felt overcome by an emotion. It beckoned a memory in King’s mind, when Dark would hold the young man back when he was still a child. Whenever Kay was spooked or had woken up from a nap . . . but the feeling was reversed. The feeling of warm body heat against his skin and someone who needed him in that moment.

Kay felt his cheeks grow wet and Dark pulled his hand away, no longer looking King in the eye.

“There,” Dark said. “Like I said, I have it under control. I know you don’t like it when you’re touched without permission.”

“You asshole, you were going to hug me,” King told Dark and flew forward to wrap his arms around his chest.

Dark stiffened up completely. His red soul became less frantic and Dark was left alone to fight against his blue soul from returning the touch. But there was no one else to distract either of them and Kay was so warm.

Slowly, as if cautious — afraid — that Kay would push him away, Dark began to move his arms down until they were gently wrapped around King.

The young man’s embrace became a little tighter, a sad chuckle coming from his mouth, “See, you just should have asked.”

His chuckle turned into a sad laugh, “Our whole family is fucked up if neither of us knew you wanted a hug.”

“I didn’t—” Dark started to deny but was cut off. His blue soul was finally silenced, suddenly calm again. Even his red soul felt like she was in a better mood.

Sooner than Dark or his blue soul wanted, Kay slowly began to pull away, and Dark could feel Damien was getting unhappy again but there was little they could do. Kay was done indulging their momentary lapse of control and Dark swore to himself that it would not happen again.

“I’m not going to keep Lunky from seeing you, if I’ve got anything to say on the matter they won’t be joining the network, but I don’t want them not to know who you are.”

“If that’s what you want, they are your child,” Dark tried to act as chill and nonchalant as he always did, desperately trying to regain his composure.

“I meant what I said earlier,” King told him. “Both about not hating you and you being an egotistical narcissist. Both those things are true.”

“Anyways,” Dark ignored the barb. “We should find the Host.”

“Already done,” Yancy was standing at the door with the Host and Illinois. Lunky was in the ex-prisoner’s arms. None of which had been there a couple seconds ago.

Lunky was hissing at them but froze when he saw Dark. They began making some odd sounds as they reached out for Dark, clearly frustrated they couldn’t normally stretch.

King walked over and took Lunky, “Hey buddy, you okay.”

“They’s been cryin’ the whole time fer youse,”[5] Yancy told him. “Set ‘a[6] pipes on this kid.”

Lunky, the second they were placed in King’s arms calmed down for a second or two, before reaching for Dark.

“Oh is that how it is?” King chuckled, and walked back over to Dark. “You want Gramps, huh.”

“I’m going to get my aura all over him,” Dark tried to warn.

“I don’t see a problem with that,” King shrugged. “Unless you don’t want to hold him?”

“No, I can hold him,” Dark allowed, hesitantly taking the spawnling into his arms.

The instant Dark had them in his arms his aura instinctively latched on and the spawnling started just devouring his aura again, their eyes little more than round black circles.

Dark just let his aura wash over the kid, placing clear warning markers that despite not being his direct spawnling, Lunky was his and other demons and mages better not touch them.

“할아버지”[7] King told Lunky, having them look up at Dark. “That’s gonna be one of the first ones we learn, right?”

Dark rolled his eyes, but just soaked in the fact that he got to hold the spawnling. They stayed in the office for a bit until Lunky let themself be passed back to King and Dark opened up a portal right in front the heroes’ base.

It took a long, lengthy discussion to explain how King round up with what looked like a three-year-old but the heroes accepted Lunky into their group. Mini peeked around Bing, cautious as the two children looked at each other.

Before Dark could vanish off without Lunky realizing he was leaving, Silver walked over to him.

“Demon grandkid, huh?” Silver asked with a smile.

“You and your heroes allow the hunters to even come within sight of them, I will murder all of you,” Dark warned.

“Got it, got it,” Silver promised. “We’ll make sure they stay fed and everything.”

“Will you now?” Dark chuckled dryly. “You don’t even know what they eat.”

“It’s not another cannibal is it?” Silver groaned seriously.

“Don’t let them taste human flesh and we’ll see,” Dark suggested. “That’s how Bim started out. I took my eyes off him for five seconds and he started licking dead bodies.”

“You’re joking right?” Silver deadpanned.

Dark flashed him a sadistic smile and walked through a portal.

“Dark! Dark!” Silver called after him. “You’re joking right?”

With Dark gone all the heroes took their new edition inside and King proclaimed that the next time he saw either of the Jims he was going to stab them in return for stabbing him in the heart. Then he went to go and take Lunky to his park to show them what would become the spawnling’s second home.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Accessibility Translations

1. You gave us the run around all over town, didn’t you?

2. Uhh, Squirrel Whisperer, you got a word of that?

3. why

4. you

5. They’ve been crying for you the whole time

6. of

7. “Grandfather”; Korean. Specifically the informal way to address your paternal grandfather. Phonically read as halabeoji.

#Superhero AU #Masks and Maladies #Markiplier #King of the Squirrels #ahwm Yancy #Yancy the Prisoner #Darkiplier #Lunky #Illinois the Adventurer #ahwm Illinois #the Host #parental feels #domestic angst #Dark has a lot of feels and no idea what to do with them #Damien just wants to have his babies #footnotes

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milkceres · 3 years

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Hello! I think I wanted to write this here because I was confused about who else to say something like this haha. I never thought I would play otome games again after 3 years ago I decided to quit. This pandemic brought me back to this abyss of happiness again. Now i am stuck with my past husband, Saeki and Joshua. In fact, now I'm addicted to playing Mr Love Queen Choice! the charm of the four of them cannot be resisted .... forgive me hubby 😭

At first I was annoyed because I forgot to save my old account at be my princess party so I had to start over and I'm desperate because my account on my forged wedding party can't be accessed before (I would be very upset if I can't get it back because I really like my avatar). And what I just found out is, there is a new route for the "his feeling" saeki! Yayyyyy thanks darling i love you 😭😭😭

Glad my account is back 😭😭

About saeki. I love him so much (including Joshua too. both of them are irreplaceable). He is the image of the ideal husband I was hoping for. Focus on working to achieve his dreams and aspirations, cheerful, fun, freedom, handsome, funny and of course a devoted husband. There are many accounts that I have seen love Saeki too and I am impressed how they see him and why they love him. To everyone who loves Saeki, thank you very much. He deserves to be loved 🥰♥️

What I like about Saeki is that he is willing to try to change for the better and think of MC anytime anywhere. He wouldn't let MC cry and leave her alone. as if there are no words for you and me, only "us". And what I also like on his route is that the MC is good enough for Saeki. I'm so jealous of her, let me be her 😭

See??? Yeah it's huband to make his wife happy right? 😭

And when he say something like this

IMOWKAOWKSISJSINZOSNO YES THAT'S OUR APARTEMENT SO PLEASE JUST MARRY ME RIGHT NOW 😭

I actually have a lot to say about Saeki, it's just that I'm confused about writing it down. Sorry 😔. I never regretted ever playing this and I also never regretted ever loving my otome games hubby 🥰.

#real #takamasa saeki #saeki #can't he just be real?#or can i meet someone like him?#voltage games #hubby is perfect #😭🥰

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dungeondicedivaarchieve · 3 years

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A few months ago I typed up some comments about the anime-only scene between Otogi and Honda on the blimp. Found here.

Well... now I'm here to talk about what happened before that scene. Because I read so much more into it.

Let's take a walk.

Please keep in mind that a great deal of this speculation comes from the belief that, despite Mr. Clown not being seen in the anime, he still exists and his relationship to his son is very similar. Also please keep in mind that this is all speculation from someone who has spent waaaayyyy too much time looking into everything Ryuji Otogi says/ does.

~~~

We join our heroes shortly after Yugi's Duel with Bakura. Ryou has fallen unconscious and the stab wound he sustained earlier has re-opened (unless you're watching the dub where blood doesn't exist.)

Otogi's first line comes after Shizuka has asked Kaiba to land the plane, and the camera cuts to her making a pose that demonstrates both uncertainty and discomfort. Kaiba stares at her and Honda and Otogi both get between them... to Honda's annoyance.

More on this in a second.

Kaiba ignores this and turns his attention back to Jonouchi and Yugi, telling them that it was Bakura's choice to Duel and that he will not be held responsible for the repercussions of another's mistake.

This causes Shizuka to shout (probably for the first time in her life.)

Otogi makes this face. Personally, I think it looks like a combination of surprise and concern. But why would he be concerned?

Because Shizuka is a lot younger, a lot smaller, and a lot less powerful (both physically and financially) than Seto Kaiba.

He is fearful of what Kaiba will do in retaliation, ans so.

He gets between Shizuka and Kaiba in hopes of transferring whatever Kaiba's about to do to him instead of her.

Because Ryuji Otogi is an abuse victim that knows what happens when you challenge someone bigger and more powerful than you. They put you back in your place.

Also Honda continues to not like this. Otogi is cutting him off each time he tries to speak, and while this could be seen as Otogi trying to one up Honda (and the dub absolutely took it that way) I can see it taken a number of ways. There's a chance he's trying to team up with Honda and hope that Kaiba won't start anything if it's two against one. It could also be that Otogi's not paying a lot of attention to Honda. He does see Shizuka and start moving in front of her before Honda moves into the frame the second time.

Going on a small tangent here but...

Keep in mind, Otogi stepped into a fight against four other guys and got himself involved in the fight against a cult to protect Honda and Shizuka. Sure, you can say that he did that to have a chance with her, but that's a lot of risk to have a chance with a girl he knows nothing about... especially for a guy who could have any number of girls with minimal effort. He will also shortly after this put up his own body as a gamble to protect Shizuka from a creepy old man that wants to wear her body like a suit. Personally, I don't think Otogi has any romantic feelings towards Shizuka at all, since each time they interact, he isn't so much flirting as he is trying to protect her. He treats Rebecca in a very similar way when he joins the duel between her and Varon under the assumption that Mai is also dueling, and that Rebecca will be outnumbered (and the correct assumption that a 12-year-old is about to pick a fight with a cult member who has the power to steal her soul. I've heard critiques that Otogi is very sexist because he won't let Rebecca nor Shizuka fight their own battles, which, yes, that's one way to take it... or you can take it as him stepping in when people significantly younger than even he is (Shizuka is 13) are put into incredible danger.)

That was lengthier than I meant for it to be, I'm sorry, back to the actual post.

So, despite everyone's best attempts, Kaiba's not landing this plane. Now get out.

Shizuka makes this face as they leave.

She's not having a good time.

Again Honda tries to talk to Shizuka and again Otogi cuts him off. He also grabs her hands and makes a very dramatic show of himself.

He makes this ridiculous face (that the dub skips because right after it, Shizuka blushes, and the dub really wants to portray Duke as the bad option in this love triangle. So we can't let it be known that she's happy he's doing this.)

This. This is not a face you use when you're trying to be suave and impress a girl. Heck, this is not a face we'll ever see him use again. We've seen him be suave and flirtatious, we know what it looks like, and folks, this ain't it.

To me, he knows he's being ridiculous and over-the-top. That's the point. He's trying to make Shizuka smile or at least stop making that face.

Now... this is where things take a turn.

Disclaimer: This might come across like I don't like Honda. I don't dislike Honda at all! It's just the nature of this scene.

Honda volunteers to go look for the Millennium Ring. Yugi agrees that they should all look. Honda says no, Jonouchi and Yugi should focus on their duels.

We cut to Otogi (still holding Shizuka's hands, I think she's okay now buddy you can stop) and he asks if Shizuka wants to help him search (he does not speak for her like he does in the dub.)

Honda insists Otogi come with him and very forcefully shoves/pushes Otogi away from Shizuka (who does, admittedly, look relieved.) When Otogi tries to protest that this isn't what he wants, Honda grabs his face to silence him.

This is not the first time someone has silenced Otogi by forcefully touching his face.

And this is not the expression of someone who is at all comfortable with the person touching him.

Honda then proceeds to drag a flailing Otogi away from the group while covering his mouth.

Otogi is doing everything in his power to communicate that he does not want this without being able to speak or break the guy's hold around his neck and no one is recognizing this as a sign of distress... or they are and they're just not stopping it. Heck, Jonouchi thinks Honda is being nice.

We can also see in this still that Honda's got a few inches on Otogi. Not a lot, Honda is 5'11 and Otogi is 5'8, but that's a considerable difference when you're intimidated.

Honda drags him to the top of the blimp and, while Otogi is looking about the blimp for the ring (what Honda claimed they were going up here to do) Honda stays still. Directly in front of the door. Blocking Otogi from being able to get away. (I can't post any more images in this post I'll have to rely on hyperlinks now.)

Otogi can't get away and he's been pulled away from the group. He is very aware this guy has a problem with him and can very easily overpower him.

So Otogi does what I've dubbed activates smug mode.

I'm going to make another post elaborating on activate smug mode (this one's long enough as it is) but, basically, Otogi only acts this way when he's trying to get the better of someone or when he's feeling threatened. He is also incredibly smug when he approaches his father to tell him that he lost to Yugi, knowing full well how his father will react to that news. It's a defense mechanism. Honda's taller and stronger than Otogi, all Otogi can really do is badmouth him and make him feel smaller in hopes that that will make Honda back off.

He then makes this pose.

I'm no body language specialist, but I worked as a counselor at a battered women's shelter for a while, so I was taught a few things.

1. He turns to his side. When you're intimidated by someone, you don't face them directly. You tilt your body away to give the illusion of distance, and to keep your vitals out of their direct reach.

2. He folds his arms in front of his stomach. Remember, Shizuka crossed her arms in front of her stomach when she was facing down Kaiba. Otogi is masking it a little by pointing and propping his elbow on his hand, but folding the arms over the chest or stomach remains a typical sign of insecurity/fear.

3. He is clutching his arm. This is something people do during severe bouts of anxiety in an attempt to ground themselves.

In conclusion, yes, Otogi sounds very confident and like he's egging Honda on. He sounds confident. Because that's the only thing he really has over Honda. Honda seems insecure about his appearance when compared to Otogi, thus why he gets deeply irritated whenever Otogi gets close to Shizuka. Otogi taps into that and uses it because it's his only defense in this situation. Maybe Honda will get fed up and leave to go lick his wounded pride.

It doesn't work. They throw hands. Well, Honda throws hands. Otogi stays in a very defensive stance the entire time. Fun fact: Keeping your arms raised close to your face and blocking your chest is one of the main stances in the more defensive based martial art of Tae-Kwon-Do.

In conclusion, my name is Axel and I think about this way, way, waaaay too much. I am of the belief that Otogi is very intimidated by Honda. I was going to attach images here of all the times Honda grabs Otogi's shirt/ threatens to punch him in the face but since I can't attach any more images and hyperlinks are a pain, I'll save it for another post. There are at least five instances.

No, I don't hate/dislike Honda, in fact, I'm pretty sure if Honda knew about Otogi's background, he'd feel terrible. The fact is they're both insecure teenage boys, Otogi because of his home life and Honda because of his family's social status and perhaps his lack of success as a duelist.

And... while I've thought about this scene a lot ever since posting that other post, I never realized how sad it makes me. Otogi's not hiding that he's not okay with being manhandled and dragged off, and his friends just sorta. Let it happen. Again, I don't blame any of them. Both Yugi and Jou have a lot on their minds and they don't seem to notice that this is a problem. Probably because 1. Honda and Jou are very physical/ playfully threatening people, that's just how they are. 2. No one knows about Otogi's homelife. They have no way of knowing he would have issue with any of this. They do it to one another all the time.

I have a lot of feelings.

Thank you for coming to my TEDTalk.

#child abuse cw #In this essay I will #Well that got long #{Axel speaks}#Musings/munnings

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todragonsart · 3 years

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The taste of wine - Chapter 1 - Siege-O-Ween Oct 29th

Prompt: “I suppose, my secret’s out”

I welcome everybody back! It’s been such a long-long-long time, since I actually enjoyed writing something. I mean, times like that happen to any kind of writer or artist, and I’m just so happy to be out of it. This was so much fun, and why would we stop at just 6000 words? Come on!

Okay, honestly, I wanted to stop. I wanted to write a shorter one, but it kept going and going and going and now I’m planning like... 4 more chapters and a prologue :’) DoN’t HuRt Me PlEaSe <3

As always, I can’t thank @r6shippingdelivery and @freedert95 enough for helping me with the beta-reading. You two are absolutely life-and-sanity-saving and I love you both very much.

Oh and also, this is for @dualrainbow‘s Halloween event, so thank you guys too, for resurrecting me from the dead!

I hope you enjoy!!

“I want you to help me die.”

Mike turned towards the man standing on his right, eyes wide with shock. He let his gaze wander, just for a second, on the other. His tall, proud posture, his handsome face, basking in the dim candle light, his gentle, green eyes now looking at him full with hope, expecting help. How could a so-called monster look this innocent, the soldier couldn’t fathom. Why would he want to die? And more importantly, why would he want to be killed by somebody like Mike?

In his wondering, he almost missed the way the other’s lips pulled into a small smile. “You won’t help me, will you?”

Lifting his chin a bit, Mike looked the other in the eyes and he couldn’t help, but think ‘what a waste’, but shook his head anyway. “I will.”

The man seemed caught off guard- almost surprised for a second, but his smile widened as hope filled him even more.

Mike shook his head, looking away. What a waste.

But how did he get into this situation in the first place?

The Boogie-man. Zombies. Ghosts. Mummies. Werewolves. Monsters . Mike Baker had never really understood them. He understood the concept, and the literature, but he didn’t understand the need. It was just the need to be scared. Or even more, the need to force the fear of darkness into the shape of something understandable. Because that is what all these so-called supernatural monsters were, weren’t they? Just images made by scared children on a moonless night. A howl? A wolf! A growl? A zombie! A mug falling down? Definitely the leftovers of a dead person. Not the wind. Obviously not the wind.

Mike never said that he didn’t believe that something was hiding in the dark, far from it - being a soldier, facing new threats every other day made him learn that in fact there was always something around the corner, ready to attack. But nonetheless, he was sceptical of the supernatural.

Living in this world for 54 years he never met any kind of supernatural monster that could have been killed with only silver, salt or fire. In fact the only monsters he met were people. People acted way worse then any animal or entity ever could, hurting others and themselves, acting selfish and rude, being agressive and stupid. Obviously not every person, but he was facing terrorists, he believed he had seen the worst of worsts. He had seen men murdering innocent people, he had seen organizations turn children into mindless soldiers and he had seen mothers killing their loved ones and then themselves for the ‘greater good’. He had seen a lot. Like a lot . But he had never met any kind of supernatural monster, so yeah.

He had every right to be sceptical, and ironical, because he did not understand the fear of the unknown and darkness like a normal person did. Howls? There was no werewolf able to sound as a friend dying from an open wound. A growl? The unhappy sound of a terrorist being cuffed. A mug falling down? The reaction to a newly found biochemical weapon. No monsters, just people. Bad-people.

He started to feel bad for the monsters in books, tv shows and poems at one point. All that screaming, shouting and wanting to capture or kill them… Why were they the ones being chased? That was the other question. Why were the monsters always bad? Why would a werewolf or zombie or mummy or anything attack the human beings, like they did in the stories? To hunt them, taste their blood and eat them and their brains? Oh come on.

The fact that sharks don’t even like the taste of human meat must mean something!

But it could be the blood... All animals had blood, why would a vampire attack that one human being, when they could hunt a calm cow, or something. Much less screaming, much less effort, much easier target.

And don’t even start with the brain bullshit. Why would anything try to eat the brain?! The people mindlessly attacking others for being a little bit different than they are were empty anyway!

And also, why would a demon or spirit or whatever the fuck attack humans after their life? What if they are stuck and just need help? What if they just want to be friends?!

He believed in ghosts, tho, he did. But not the… ‘the white sheet with two holes for the eyes on it’ kind, obviously. He believed the ghosts of the past. The screaming in his nightmares about the wars, the eyeless people standing behind him in the mirror, the feeling of his mother’s gentle hand on his shoulder.

Ghosts.

But not the hollywood ghosts scaring innocent people. His own ghosts. Some of them were bad, some of them were good, even soothing. Mementos of his childhood, his first love, his daughter. Good ghosts, who never wanted to hurt him, in fact most of the time, they helped him in their own way.

And after all… everything started with a ghost.

The ghost of his father.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

When he first noticed the familiar figure, he was in the middle of buying baked beans in the supermarket. He was all alone, thinking about calling Penelope after dinner, to ask where would his grandson want to go this year for a little Trick-or-treating during Halloween, minding his own business with the cans, when he noticed a tall, dark figure just outside the shop’s front window.

He didn’t even notice it first, but when he felt the unmistakable feeling of being watched, he looked up, right at the dark figure. The long coat, the old hat, the wide shoulders; he caught himself thinking, Dad…? But his father died at least thirty years ago, so yeah. It was kinda suspicious.

He looked around, trying to find out if anybody could see the figure, and as he looked back, the window was empty.

Strange.

But the ghost of his father had never been a bad omen. Maybe he should visit his grave. Or perhaps it was a reminder that he forgot to put on his watch this morning, the one that once belonged to his father.

Shrugging, he went back to pick the beans and that was it.

Or so he thought.

Because, not long after this, he noticed the figure again. He was just arriving to his boat after a disgustingly long day of work, ready to open a beer and crash on his couch, when he saw the familiar silhouette from his peripheral vision. He turned his head, but as the last time, the figure was gone.

Mike lifted an eyebrow. It was his father’s birthday coming up soon. Heh. Motherfucker never missed a chance to make people wish him happy birthday after all.

Shrugging it off again, he entered the boat, and did as he planned with his beer and couch.

But obviously, it happened again. The tall figure standing patiently, just looking at him from afar when he arrived home, bought his supplies, walked down the streets. The well known shadow never moving, never looking like it was alive, never changing.

He once even noticed the figure standing at the docks, as if waiting for him to get home. It was strange and the feeling of being watched never seemed to disappear.

The last straw was when he noticed the shadow during the night he was with his daughter and grandson, Trick or treating, having fun. He almost missed it again, the silhouette standing in a dark alleyway just the other side of the road. As he saw the shadow there, Mike got furious all of a sudden. Hanging around, waiting for him was one thing, but bugging him during family times? A real jerk move.

As he noticed, he immediately stopped in his track and turned towards the figure, stepping down the pathway. His gaze was fixed on the figure that looked like its usual, frozen self, but as it noticed his attempt of getting closer, it did the strangest thing: it moved.

It wasn’t a scared wince or anything a normal human would do when they were discovered doing something bad, it was just a surprised lift of shoulders and a slight tilt of hat, but it was something . And as Mike took one more step forward, the figure did the same thing backward. And that was when the good omen of his father turned into a human monster, because who else would follow him around every night just standing still and watching. He had a stalker. One of the most disgusting kind of monsters.

His instincts kicking in, he reached for his gun, but the second he touched it an ear-rippingly loud car honk pushed him out of his state of mind. He was standing in the middle of the road and a very angry driver just honked at him again.

Looking at the man behind the wheel, Mike sniffed and let his gun slip back into its holster. He glanced back at the figure, but that motherfucker was gone. Of fucking course.

Great.

Not caring for the loud honking at all, he turned back and stepped on the pathway again.

A stalker.

Glancing back at the other side of the road, he lifted his chin, looking around.

A ghost? A stalker? A monster, maybe. A human one, who was apparently afraid of him.

It didn’t matter. It was time to end their relationship.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

Except the figure disappeared.

Not in the term a ghost would, because Mike still felt like he was being watched, but he didn’t see the silhouette again. It pissed him off, but he was smarter than giving up. Instead, he turned to his team.

He asked Marius - one of the best tinkerers the world has ever seen in his opinion - to install a few cameras around his boat, so that he can monitor every movement from within his home, and Marius - although a little bit weirded out - delivered. Mike was satisfied, he finally got a chance to get ahead of the mysterious staker, now all he needed to was to be patient and he never had a problem with that.

He waited for three weeks without seeing the shadow again, but on the fourth Friday, he finally caught it on record. Since the cameras were recording live, and he spent his nights sitting in front of them, he just caught a glimpse of the figure’s coat. It was fucking four in the morning, and he was doozing off before, but the second he saw the movement, he got on his feet and reaching for his gun, he rushed to the exit of his boat, all tiredness forgotten.

The adrenaline was rushing in his ears as he burst out of the door, gun in hand. It took him just half a second to find the figure in the darkness, then he was already charging towards it, running like he never ran before.

“Stop right there!” he shouted and again, he caught the figure off guard; it winced from the sudden sound in the otherwise peaceful night. It looked around, trying to find a place to hide, clearly trying to escape, but the old soldier was fast. The moment the figure turned away in an attempt to run, it made a mistake and Mike caught it’s arm in his iron grip. The force of him tugging at the figure efficiently knocked it’s hat off just to reveal a patch of sweaty, ginger hair. He lifted an eyebrow, tugging at the arm again, trying to get a better look, but the figure just seemed to have more than enough of this abuse.

Knowing all too well that trying to slip from Mike’s grip was a useless motion, it instead planted its feet and turning on its heels it kicked the soldier on his side, efficiently knocking the air out of his lungs. Wheezing, Mike immediately let go of the arm, gasping for air. Growling swears he looked at the figure, but it was on the run already, making distance between the two of them.

Spitting, Mike got himself together, and rushed after the figure. He had been waiting for this fight since Halloween and he wasn’t going to let that motherfucker run away once more. The figure was fast, but Mike was angry, and it made him more dangerous and reckless. He had no problem keeping up with the pace, in fact, he was catching up to the shadow step by step. He was ready to finish this.

In their chase, Mike kind of forgot to look where he was going, but it didn’t really matter. The only thing in front of his eyes was the prize of finally catching this motherfucking stalker, the changing of landscape around them didn’t matter at all-

Until it did.

Mike had no idea how, but they ended up in the more abandoned corner of Hereford. There were mostly suburban areas or empty factories on this side of the town. How did they even get here!? He looked around in concern, taking deep breaths. He had no idea, he only started to notice everything around him just now.

He still had the figure right in front of him, but their distance started to grow as his legs got tired of the running. The adrenaline in his blood slowly faded away, and with that, his energy did too.

He soon noticed himself gasping for air, his sight getting a bit blurry, slowing down, which was- not a problem namely because the figure was heading towards the last building in the line, which turned out to be a… a church? Really? A church.

Before he could ridicule the shadow in his head, he saw it run straight up the front stairs of the building, and the next thing reaching his mind was the loud band of the door being shut.

Taking big gulps of air, Mike let himself collapse on the ground, eyes fixed on the building. This might have been the strangest night of his entire life, and it was far from over. Giving himself a few minutes, he just sat there, watching the building, kind of waiting for the figure to escape again, but there was no movement around the church. Odd.

He wiped the sweat off of his forehead and stretched as he stood up. Twisting, he popped his spine and with a low groan he approached the church. He couldn’t see any movement around the door, but as he stepped on the first stair, he noticed how a light had been lit in the window of the church tower. So, there was somebody home.

He pulled his gun out - just in case - and stepped to the door, slowly pushing it in; it wasn’t even properly closed. Holding his weapon as steady as possible, Mike stepped in. It was pitch black. Grimacing, he fished his small flashlight out of his pocket, turning it on. The narthex was empty, only a few old benches left, waiting since god-knows how long, for people who never came.

Mike looked around and noticed a smaller entrance door. Stepping there, he glanced inside the nave and seeing no movement, he entered. Looking around, he lowered his gun a little. Rows of benches, hand-made pillars, a few old, wooden sculptures of Saints here and there, with their additional little plaques of info. Mike hummed, directing his flashlight at each of them. There was nothing unusual, really just a worn down little church. He didn’t even know that there was a church in this part of the town and he has been living here for a good 10 years now.

Getting deeper into the building, he started to measure the space in his head, trying to find the stairs into the attic. It was a small church so it was not many places where they could hide the way up. His hard guess was behind the main altar, so he made his way there, making sure he was as silent as possible.

As he arrived into the crossing, he stopped to take a quick look into both of the transept sides, that was when he noticed it. It wasn’t a big thing to notice, but it was strange on its own. On one side he saw an old Virgin Mary, the other held an equally old St. Joseph. Squinting, he glanced back at the other sculptures in the nave. All of them were old, but otherwise clean. The benches were left to rot, but every statue was in the best shape, not a single part missing or paint being spotty.

“What the fuck?” Mike heard himself whisper, but glanced in the direction of the main altar. The Jesus there was in the best shape possible. Mike shook his head, and stepped up to the main altar. He glanced at the sculpture, tilting his head a little. “Listen, if he is just a strange fan of mine I won’t hurt him, but otherwise… I can’t promise you anything. Don’t come after me later, okay?” with a smirk, he shook his head. Always an atheist.

Behind the altar, he noticed a small door, hidden from even the front rows. Getting more and more relaxed in this very strange situation, he lowered his gun completely as he entered the small door and there he found it. The stairs to the attic! According to the soft lights at the top of the stairs, he found what he was looking for.

He switched off his flashlight and started to climb still as silent as possible. He was about… 99,9% sure the stalker knew about him, but still. This time, he wanted to be the one hiding in the dark.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

He was around half of the stair when he heard some kind of a rustling under his boots. He froze in the middle of his movement - not wanting to be heard -, and looked down in a slight panic. Squinting, he leant down; a plastic bag? Okay, what now?!

He gently stepped off the bag and lifted it up in the weak light of the staircase. Mike’s eyes rounded as he recognized the object in his hand. It was a very strong bag with rows and rows of writing printed on it, informing the handler about the date, the place and the type of blood. 0-. Mike closed his eyes and opened them again, hoping that the plastic bag would… maybe miraculously turn into fairy dust and butterflies, but the plastic bag remained. Normally he was okay to see this bag, it was a useful little object, you know, saving lives here and there, but- this one was empty. Why the fuck was it emtpy, it was clearly used before. He glanced up at the top of the stairs. Okay what the fuck.

Taking a gulp of air, he stuffed the bag in his pocket and continued his way up. As he got to the last few steps, he first noticed a door on top of the stairs, and it being slightly open, he heard a soft sound. Stopping yet again, he tried to concentrate, and soon could make out the sound of fabric rustling and gentle tones of a piano.

Getting more and more confused, he finished his journey up, lifted his gun in front of himself, and without knocking or giving any warning, he burst into the attic, just to be greeted by a pair of green eyes fixed on him. He lifted his eyebrows. He has seen this look somewhere, but he couldn’t, for the love of god, tell where.

The eyes belonged to a - very - handsome face of a young man. He had elegant and sharp features, with a bit of arrogance hidden in his posture. He was without a doubt attractive, but Mike couldn’t care, because the young man had locks of ginger hair on his head, and who had that as well? His dear stalker. So he pointed the gun at the other, who was annoyingly calm.

“It took you long enough to get up the stairs. Might be the age,” said the stranger, with an amused little smirk. He looked away, down to the table and reaching out he poked on the phone laying on the surface. The soft piano stopped. “I started to get worried.”

Anger building in him, Mike gritted his teeth. “Who are you? Why are you following me? What do you want? What the fuck is this?!”

The stranger smiled at that, looking back at him, never noticing the gun. “My name is Olivier Flament. I have been following you, because I need to ask you a favour. I would like to ask for your help in an important matter. As for what… I believe this is my home.”

Struck by the strange honesty of the other Mike blinked a few, lowering his gun just a tiny bit. “What matter? Why were you following me?”

“I told you, I need your hel-”

Mike cut in. “Why were you following me everywhere for almost three months?”

The man fell silent, he glanced at the table. He almost seemed… shy?

“Spit it out!” Mike grumbled, making the other look up. His posture might have been calm, but his eyes were like the sea before the storm.

“I didn’t know how to approach you, see my lifesty-”

“So you decided to follow me, even with my family and when I try to catch you, you run? Almost not suspicious.”

Olivier looked at him for a few long seconds, trying to figure him out. It has been harder than he planned so far, and if he didn’t play it cool, he would get into a deep problem. “Look, I didn’t mean to scare you, but-”

“Oh you didn’t scare me.” Mike lifted his gun, pointing straight to the other’s head. “You made me angry. ”

The young man turned his head down, now looking guilty. “I didn’t mean to. I would never hurt you or your family, I swear to God. I need your help. Please, just listen-!”

Mike watched him, standing there, one hand on the table, leaning there a bit, trying to move away from him. He noticed something… inhuman in this man, something otherworldly. The posture, the face, the eyes… It was so strange. Not unpleasant, far from it, just odd.

The soldier lowered his gun a little, and took the plastic bag out of his pocket, throwing it in front of the other. “What is this crap?”

Looking down, Olivier hummed. “That’s my favourite. I probably had the same type back in the Dark Ages, and now I find it delicious.”

Mike’s grip on the gun tightened. “Quit the jokes, mate!”

The young man didn’t answer, he just glanced to the left. Following his eyes, Mike looked away, just to see a little fridge. It had an open cooler bag in front of it, what had about 10-15 similar blood packs in it. He looked at the man again, grimacing in disgust. “You are sick.”

The other shook his head. “I am really not. Don’t think that I enjoy drinking human blood in particular. It is not a very exciting diet after 800 years, but it does what it needs to, and still better than starving, or hunting and hurting the innocent.”

Mike glanced at the bags again, and then back at the man standing in front of him. “If you tell me, you are a fucking vampire, I will vomit.”

The sides of Olivier’s mouth pulled up into a gentle smile, and crossing his arms in front of him, he nodded. “I suppose… my secret’s out.”

“You are joking!” Mike blinked.

Olivier shook his head with that amused little smile. “No. And you didn’t vomit. Surprising.”

The soldier shook his head. “You are crazy!”

“Says the man who chased another through a town, gun held high, ready to murder.”

With an unamused grimace Mike rolled his eyes. “You should be happy that I’m just holding my gun and not using it.”

“Not to sound too smart, but that wouldn’t do too much harm on my body. See, this is the problem. As far as I know, I’m pretty undestroyable.”

Mike lifted an eyebrow. “Huh?”

Olivier nodded. “If you would like, I can show you,” before finishing, he already reached for a letter opener on his table. It looked sharp, and he held it out for Mike to see, then without a heartbeat, he pressed the edge into his own palm.

For reasons unknown, Mike immediately reached out, to catch his hands before he could hurt himself, but confusion hit him even more, when there was not a single drop of blood coming out of the wound. In fact, the raw flesh - or at least what was supposed to be the raw flesh - did not look the way it was supposed to look like. It was not red and healthy, but grey and… there wasn’t any blood. Not a single drop.

Mike slapped his palm across his mouth, and shutting his eyes, he took two steps back, turning his face away. There was no blood, there was no smell, there was nothing . Nothing human. What the fuck. Now he felt like vomiting. He looked up at Olivier. “What the fuck is… What!?”

The man looked at him and humming, he put down the letter opener. He picked up a piece of fabric, wrapped it around his hand. It didn’t really serve any purpose other than hiding the disturbing wound from Mike out of pure sympathy. It wasn’t an easy thing to see. “You seemed very confident in yourself just a second ago.”

“Fuck.” With a huge sigh, Mike held back his dinner, and taking a deep breath he adjusted his posture. “Okay. Okay. Let’s pretend, for a second, that I believe you. What do you really want? What kind of help do you need from me ? Do you want to eat me, or something? That is why am I here?”

Hearing this, Olivier suddenly seemed annoyed. “If you would just calm down a little, I would tell you everything!”

“Get on with it!” Mike shouted suddenly, with his gun held up again.

The man- or vampire- or what the fuck stood there, mouth slightly open, eyes helpless. He bit his bottom lip and turned his head down again, lifting both his hands in a soothing motion. “Please... “ he glanced up at him again, almost scared. “I know exactly how this sounds, alright? But I… I don’t want to cause harm to you, I swear. I wanted to introduce myself to you, but I have spent the last… forty-something years of my life being in- being alone, and I had no idea how to approach you! This is the truth, I don’t- I don’t want to hurt you, you are not my type! I do not even enjoy hunting humans, all that screaming and blood and waste…” Olivier shook his head slowly, looking Mike in the eyes. “I swear. I don’t want to eat you, I don’t want to harm you, I’m more than happy with those bags. I genuinely need your help!”

With jaws clenched, Mike watched his every move, considering his options. He slowly lowered his gun, and side-eyeing the vampire, he turned around to observe the surroundings. It was a way of getting used to the situation, and also it was a test of the other. He wanted to see how Olivier reacts to him in his own home, if it could even be called that. With a frown, he looked around.

The attic was spacious, with a few smaller windows built into the roof. It was divided into two, a smaller room, which reminded him of an office, that was where they were standing. It had a heavy, old table - Olivier waiting patiently beside that - pushed under a window, close to the wall, an equally old leather chair, a few cabinets with papers, candles, smaller and bigger containers, a small, locked chest, and other unusual stuff piled on them and the fridge with the fantastic blood bags in it.

The other half of the attic was just behind Olivier. Not knowing what to expect, Mike looked around. He didn’t see a bed or a coffin or anything where somebody would be able to rest comfortably, but he had a hard guess that Oliver - if he was truly what he said to be - didn’t really need sleep. However he saw an old couch and two nice armchairs in front of a- a- a bookshelf. Well. A bookshelf was a very, very weak expression. It wasn’t just one bookshelf, he saw at least three or four of them, and each one was stacked with books. And not just the shelves, no, there were books everywhere. Everywhere. It looked like a motherfucking library over there. Piles of books behind the couch, around the armchairs, stuffed into the window slots, put on the beams and around the columns. It was so messy, yet amazing, Mike couldn’t help but let an amused little snort out.

He looked back at Olivier, who was still standing next to the table, waiting for him, without a single movement. He didn’t take a breath, he didn’t blink. Sniffing, Mike lowered his gun completely. “A vampire?”

Olivier nodded.

“How old are you?”

“As far as I remember, I have been turned-” he hummed. “ around AD 750-850.”

Mike lifted an eyebrow. “What do you mean ‘around’?”

Olivier cleared his throat, looked away as if he was embarrassed. “We didn’t really have birth certificates back then and my memory is kind of blurry from a 1200 years of perspective, don’t judge me.”

Mike hummed. “Is this your real name?”

“I have been called many names over the years, I don’t know if you have noticed, but it’s sort of suspicious if somebody uses a name for 1200 years, but don’t worry. For those who I wish to get close to myself I am Olivier Flament, yes.”

“Why are you talking like this…? I’m a simple man.”

“Then you might know that old habits die hard.”

Not being able to hold back, Mike smirked at that. “Touché.”

Olivier nodded gently. “Would you like to ask anything else?”

“Who turned you? Are there more of you?”

Looking away, Olivier started to fidget with the phone - actually an iPhone - on his table. “I don’t really know who turned me and I don’t know about the others. To be honest, I don’t wish to have any connection with them anymore. I have had enough, especially since the so-called “Dracula” figure ruined our reputation in popular culture.”

Lifting his eyebrows, Mike almost burst out laughing. “You are- you are hurt by the movies?”

“Since they tell false facts, obviously yes.”

“Why don’t you correct them, then?”

Now it was Olivier’s turn to lift his eyebrow. “And how do you expect me to do that? March over, knock on the silver gates of Hollywood and say ‘Excuse me, we do not actually sparkle under the sunlight, says me, an actual vampire!’ or what? I’m not a fool. As soon as I tell the humans what I am, there would be one of these two options: one, they would want me to turn them into vampires as well, for the fun of living forever, or the second, they would panic as the herd of animals they are and chase me until they either catch or kill me. Not like they would succeed in any of these options, but it’s easier for me to just lay back in silence and busy myself with the old knowledge of the early ages.”

Mike, taken aback, just shut up for a few seconds, lifting his palms in a protective gesture, but it was for the looks only. He somehow did not feel the need to protect himself anymore, in fact, Oivier reacting so seriously to a simple joke put him at ease. He liked it here, and he found himself being interested in the other. It was still a far-fetched idea, and he was still 60% sure that he will wake up on the ground in his boat, with a few empty bottles of whiskey around him, but this wasn’t so bad after all. The vampire seemed almost nice, and he was never really down to judge at the first glance, so why not wait and hear him out?

Noticing his own rambling, Olivier fake-cleared his throat again and turned down his head. “I’m sorry.”

“I assume you have been saving this up since a very long time.”

“Indeed.”

With a small, amused smile Mike shrugged. “It’s okay. But if you don’t want to tell people what you are, why tell me?”

“I have heard about you before, and I trust that you won’t tell my secret to anybody. I believe you could help me with my problem. I know it is very hard for you to understand my reasons and drive, but I put my trust into you.”

Mike narrowed his eyes. “What do you need my help for?”

“I want you to help me die.”

In his wandering, he almost missed the way the other’s lips pulled into a small smile. “You won’t help me, will you?”

Lifting his chin a bit, Mike looked the other in the eyes and he couldn’t help, but think ‘what a waste’, but shook his head anyway. “I don’t enjoy murdering people, but if you have a good enough reason I will. But you have lots and lots of explaining to do before we get to it.”

The man seemed caught off guard- almost surprised for a second, but his smile widened as hope filled him even more.

Mike shook his head, looking away. What a waste. He didn’t like the idea of killing the other. He kind of started to like him in a very twisted way, but he understood why somebody would want to die after 1200 years of living in the dark.

Olivier stepped closer to him, offering his hand gently, a smile as bright as the sun.

Mike glanced away with a low sigh. “What have I gotten myself into? Mike Baker, by the way.”

“I know!” with a soft laugh, the vampire shook his hand. “I told you, I have heard about you. And as for what… Let’s just sit down, and let me tell you my story first, okay?”

Stepping back a little, Mike looked him in the eyes. After a long pause, he nodded. “Okay. You can start with how you know me.”

Olivier nodded, and stepped into the other part of the attic, gesturing towards one of the armchairs. “Have a seat.”

Mike put his gun on the big table and followed Olivier into the ‘living-room’. He looked around a bit, observing the piles of books here and there and with an amused smirk, he sat down. The armchair creaked under his weight and he frowned. “How long since you invited anybody here?”

Olivier looked at him, sitting down on the couch. “This is a fairly new place for me, truth to be told, I have only lived here for about ten years. But in the term of having interaction with humans and other vampires… It’s been just about thirty years or so. I prefer being alone.”

Nodding, Mike kicked off his shoes and put his legs on top of a strong pile of books. Olivier rolled his eyes with a smile, but he didn’t say anything. “So,” Mike began. “Why me?”

Fidgeting with his fingers, the vampire looked away, and then back at Mike. “I knew your grandfather, and also your dad.”

Let me know what you think!! <3

#dragonwrites #dragontries #dualrainbow #siege-o-ween 2020 #r6s #rainbowsixsiege #fanfic #fanfiction #r6s Thatcher #r6s Lion #r6s Bandit #r6s Jäger

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tardistimes · 4 years

Text

Knavish Knight

Summary: As soon as you woke up, quickly realising with a daunting chill what was happening, you had tried your best to explain to your kidnappers what an enormous mistake they had made.

Series: The Master’s Maniacal Misadventures Part 4 | Part 3 | Part 2 | Part 1

Word Count: 4177

AO3 link here.

No matter how much you tried, it seemed no one in the room was capable of rational thought.

“Look, I really don’t think you understand how big a mistake you’ve made here.” You implored, leaning forward as much as you could when your hands and feet were tightly bound to the chair. “I know you think you’re blackmailing some rich business guy, but you couldn’t be further from the truth! It was just an act. He wanted to get close to the mayor so he could steal something from his vault. Originally he was just got to kill everyone and go straight for it, he only changed the plan because I thought the hors d’oeuvres looked good and fancied a few dances together.”

They didn’t believe a single word coming out of your mouth.

“Seriously, it’s not too late! He might not even notice I’m gone yet. He can be easily distracted; he’s probably monologing to someone about his scheme right now. Just let me go before he realises, and I won’t even mention this. I’ll tell him I got lost on the way to the toilet or something. He’ll believe that. He thinks my species is so stupid.” You endeavoured. “Let me go, and you’ll all make it out of this alive.”

The man before you, who must be the one in charge given how often the others looked to him, scoffed. “You’ll say anything to save yourself. Well, your lies won’t work on us.”

“Yeah,” another man piped up, eager to join in, “besides, we already sent him the ransom demand. He’ll be giving us our money in two hours.”

Everyone surrounding you crowed excitedly at the prospect. You grimaced. You really had thought you might be able to save their lives.

“Okay,” you sighed, giving it one last try, “you at least took me far away from the party, right? I mean, you have time to get away before he arrives?”

You’d been unconscious for most of the kidnapping, barely realising someone was behind you before a syringe was stabbed into your neck and they whisked away you. As soon as you woke up, quickly realising with a daunting chill what was happening, you had tried your best to explain to your kidnappers what an enormous mistake they had made.

It was a pity. You really had been enjoying that party. It was so rare you got to socialise with other people. Usually, the Master started inflicting chaos as soon as you landed and everyone was too busy running away or screaming for you to strike up a conversation with them. Evidentially you’d both been defying nature by trying to have fun at the party – something like this had to happen to restore balance to the universe.

“We’re on a freight ship in orbit.”

You nodded. That wasn’t ideal, it meant there was nowhere these men could run to with breathable air, but it would have an engine.

“Right. So you’ll have escape pods? Yes? Good, stick me in one, blast it off, then start up the engine and get as far away from here as possible.”

The man in charge laughed, and, like sheep, the others hastily joined in. Your eyes rolled so hard it was a miracle they didn’t fall out their sockets.

“Yes, keep laughing. Go for it. You might as well spend the last few minutes of your lives having a good giggle. Keep it up.” You huffed, slumping back in your chair. No one could say you hadn’t tried, but what could you do if they wouldn’t take their own jeopardy seriously?

Their leaders laugh grew even more booming but one of his sheep frowned.

“Minutes?”

“Yes, minutes.” You emphasised. “Because when the Master gets here and finds me tied to this chair after you drugged me and took me here,” you glanced around at your dreary surroundings, the glitzy cocktail dress the Master had picked out for you looking ridiculously out of place amongst the squalor, “against my will, he will lose. His. Shit.”

You immediately felt the need to clarify as they slowly fell silent. “I mean, he already lost that years ago. But he’ll think this is a great excuse.” You groaned as you thought of what he might have planned. “I just hope he doesn’t make me watch you all die.”

“The Master,” one of them chuckled, glancing around at the others hoping they’d join in on the joke, “looks like we’ve found ourselves a real kinky bastard this time around!”

“The rich ones always are.” Their leader sneered.

You didn’t like the way he was looking at you now. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if the Master was close to catching you up.

“What about you, darling?” He asked, moving closer. “What are you into?”

He trailed a finger down your cheek and you repressed the urge to bite it off. You were clearly outnumbered.

“You don’t know who he is.” You said lowly.

“He’s a businessman.”

“He’s a homicidal lunatic.” You corrected.

“What have you got against the man?” He grinned. “Thought you two were close? Saw you two dancing when I got to the party, you know? He looked ready to drag you right off that dance floor to somewhere a little more private. Hmm? No? You didn’t seem to think he was a homicidal lunatic then. In fact, it looked to me you were rather enjoying his company. Unless, like us, you’re only interested in the money and not the small talk?”

You snarled at the insinuation.

He laughed again. It was becoming rather vexing.

“Nah. I know you’re lying. Got your panties in a bunch ‘cause you think we’re gonna hurt you. Well, we’re not. Providing,” he stressed, “your homicidal lunatic keeps up his end of the deal. He gives us the money, we don’t cut off that pretty little head of yours and send him it.”

“He doesn’t deal with money.” You sighed. Like everything you’d said so far, that was true. As far as you knew, he’d never used money once since you met. “He takes what he wants and kills anyone who gets in his way. And right now? That’s you.”

“Will someone shut this bitch up?” The leader groaned.

A syringe was produced and, helpless to avoid it, you were drugged into unconsciousness again.

The drug, whatever it was, left you in a deep sleep. Nothing permeated through to you until someone roused you with a glass water thrown in your face. You had no idea how long you’d been unconscious for. The other men had left in the meantime, only one returning to wake you.

“Come on.” He said, untying you from the chair. “Your boyfriend’s here.”

While he freed your legs, your hands were still bound behind you back, and you struggled for balance when the man roughly pushed you forward.

You weren’t sure what you would find when they brought you to the ship’s bridge. The problem of the Master’s unpredictability combined with your active imagination. You’d pictured him dark with fury, teasing and difficult, calmly threatening. In hindsight, you should have known he’d decide to play a game.

“Oh, love. There you are.” He sighed in relief, his wide eyes locking onto you, shimmering with concern. His bow tie hung loosely around his neck, the tuxedo rumpled, his hair suitably messed, all to create the image of someone who had spent the last few hours without you fretting and restless instead of plotting murder.

Despite knowing better, it was hard not to buy into his act. Immediately, you longed to cross over to his side and assure him you were all right but, when your feet tried to take you there, you were swiftly grabbed and kept in place.

For a split second, you saw his eyes darken dangerously as he watched you handled in such a manner by those men, yet only you saw it. The others had already fallen for his latest performance, cackling over his perceived naivety. They weren’t really paying attention though, the bag overflowing with cash had captured their attention as soon as he had dumped it on the floor. The men hadn’t even thought to question his ship, which stood conspicuously in the corner as an antique wardrobe.

They never stood a chance.

“Did they hurt you?” He asked from across the room. His eyes darted everywhere to take in your condition, observing the slight rips in the hem of your dress, the damp strands of hair falling free around your face and the slightly glassy quality to your eye from being drugged.

“No. No, I’m fine.”

“Enough chit-chat.” The leader bit, getting impatient. “Give us the money.”

“And you’ll give me her back?” The Master asked with a wavering voice.

“Deals a deal.”

As soon as the Master kicked the bag to their side, you were shoved towards him. He caught you, quickly freeing your hands and pulling you into a tight side embrace. He was doing wonderfully in playing the part of a concerned lover. It was hard not to fall for it as he pressed his face into your hair. While the men crowed over their money, congratulating the Master for his smart decision to pay up, he dropped his head so he could whisper into your ear, still playing the part of your affectionate lover.

“I’m going to kill all of them.”

You shuddered even though you’d known as much. He would never forgive someone for blackmailing him.

He continued, “I will paint the stars with their blood. Make a mess so gruesome,” he breathed, his lips just barely connecting with your skin as he traced the shell of your ear, “that everyone in the known universe will know by tomorrow that you are off-limits.”

“Never again.” The Master promised. “You will never have to go through this again.”

Your heart thudded to a stop. Pulling back, you stared up at him with wide eyes, not sure if you’d just heard him right.

He stared back at you, the fire now openly blazing. “TARDIS is open, love. Close the door after you. I’ll find you when I’m done.”

Stumbling slightly as you left, you did as he said, not sparing the men a last look. It would only haunt you.

As soon as you were shut inside, you fell onto the couch in the console room, your head spinning.

You should go back to your room, you reasoned. Get changed, drink some water to flush the drugs from your system, try to get some rest. Instead, you stayed on the couch. You had to know, to see what he had done. The thought terrified you, but you had to know.

You were waiting quite a while.

The only thing you could hear was the soft humming of the TARDIS. Although today it seemed a little louder than usual. Perhaps it was trying to shield you from whatever was going on outside.

You’d been with the Master when he’d killed people before, but it never took this long. Not for half a dozen men. Usually, he’d just zap whoever got in his way or annoyed him with his TCE and that would be the end of it. Quick and clean, a little figure left behind. Sometimes pocketed if he found it amusing enough. You wondered – worried, really – what on earth he was doing to them that could take so long.

Whatever it was, you knew he was doing it for you.

The TARDIS quietly admitted him once he was done. His footsteps were heavy as he walked towards the console and inputted a new destination. He realised quickly that you were there – despite him hoping you had disappeared further into the ship where he could avoid you until he was properly cleaned up – but he didn’t talk to you until the TARDIS was in flight.

“Are you all right?” He asked gruffly.

Your response came a little too quickly as you took in the sight of him. He’d left a trail on the floor, one you barely studied for a second before pointedly looking away. “Yes.”

The Master shot you a disbelieving look, his arched brow almost disappearing under the hair which had fallen over his face.

Under his heavy stare, you soon faltered. “A bit drowsy. They gave me a sedative.”

“They said it was a sedative?”

“Well, no…”

“Get to the medbay.” He sighed, turning away from you to look at the console screens. “I’ll meet you there.”

“Master, I don’t need to, I’m fine…”

“Go.” He commanded.

Rising from the couch on trembling legs, you hastened down the corridors. It took you a while to find the medbay, the TARDIS rearranging itself to buy the Master time.

He’d changed by the time he arrived to check on you, all remaining traces of blood wiped away. The mania had faded from his eyes and he was calm as he urged you onto a bed, treating you delicately as he took a blood sample and encouraged you to stay laying down while he ran his tests. The whole time he worked he barely looked you in the eye, only touching you with caution.

When he was satisfied there was nothing wrong with you, he told you to go to your bedroom and sleep. “I’ve taken us to a different galaxy for the night. Go rest up.”

You stayed where you were, even when he opened the medbay door for you. He gestured through it, trying to convince you to move.

His calm detachment faltered as he finally looked you in the eye. You weren’t sure what he saw there, you’d felt strangely removed from your body ever since you’d made it back aboard the TARDIS. It was clear the Master didn’t like what he saw though, as his gaze shifted, once again looking anywhere except at you.

His hands climbed up to tug at his hair, pulling at it harshly to ground himself. With a wrench of pain, he was able to force out his next words. “I’ll take you home.” He said, his voice leaden with defeat.

You blinked in surprise. “What?”

The Master repeated his statement.

“But I’m not meant to go home for at least another week.” You protested, mind reeling. Not half an hour ago he had killed half a dozen men for you, yet now he was trying to send you home?

You immediately took his reaction to heart, deciding everything was somehow your fault. You were the one who was captured, he must consider you weak. An inconvenience. No longer worth the trouble. You’d become a risk, something people thought they could use against him. Why would he want to keep you around? Forever having to go to the trouble of rescuing you. Easier to send a clear message that he had no weaknesses then dump you back on Earth, no longer burdened, no longer obliged to act as your protector.

Tears spiked at the corner of your eyes but you refused to let them fall. You’d caused him enough trouble.

“I see.” You mumbled.

The Master’s hands fell from his hair, harshly scrubbing against his jaw. “I’ll give you some time to gather your things.”

“Oh, okay.”

A permanent removal then.

He turned to leave, to head to the console, but your heart wrenched and you had to stop him.

“Master!”

Reluctantly, he turned back.

“I – I’m sorry.” You apologised, your voice cracking. You couldn’t believe how badly you’d messed everything up. The time you’d spent travelling with the Master was the best of your life. All the things you’d seen, everything you’d done together. The thought of returning home, to a place you couldn’t even consider your real home while you were still cocooned within the comforting embrace of the TARDIS, was horrible. Everything would seem so grey, so dull, so pointless without the Master there.

Everything he’d given you would be gone forever as soon as you stepped outside, and it was all your fault.

“Sorry.” He repeated dumbly. “What are you sorry for?”

“Getting taken.” You said thickly, head falling with shame. “I should have been more careful. I’m sorry.”

“That is my fault, not yours.” The Master said, suddenly thunderous. His voice took you aback, and you stared at him. “I was the one who placed you in danger. Which,” he clarified, stalking towards you, “I have taken care of. I promise you, no one in the known universe would dare…”

His ear-splitting yell made you flinch, and he immediately dropped his voice, “no one would dare come after you again. I made sure of that.”

The gaze he fixed you with made you shudder delightfully as you quickly realised your real error.

“I’m just sorry you had to… go through that.” The Master said carefully. “I should never have allowed you to be put in such a position.”

“You think I want to go home?” You asked incredulously.

He blinked at you. “Of course.”

“No!” You insisted, scrambling off the bed to meet him in the middle of the medbay. “Never. I never want to go home again. I want to stay here.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, you realised you may have overstepped your place somewhat and retracted some of your sentiments. “Well, I mean. As long as you want me here. I can still go back to visit so I don’t get under your feet. But. Well. I want to stay. Here. With you.” You clarified. “If that’s okay?”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he continued to stare at you searchingly, still waiting for the repulsion he expected to erupt across your face when it finally dawned on you what he had done.

Feeling he needed some help, you lightly took up his hand in yours and pulled it close to your body. He’d missed the blood underneath his nails, which he only noticed when you raised his hand, lifting it higher until you could press a kiss to his fingertips.

“I never thanked you.” You mumbled into his skin.

“For what?” He breathed.

“Protecting me.” You answered. “I should have thanked you when you came back.”

The Master’s face contorted with revulsion. “I didn’t want you to see me like that. You shouldn’t have been there. You should have come here or gone to your room. You – you should never have to see me that way.”

“I’ve seen you kill people before.” You pointed out.

He was quick to argue with you. “Not like that.”

“You did it for me.” You said, not needing to ask for his motives.

“I should have spent more time on them.” He said, closing his eyes as he thought longingly of even worse things he could have subjected those men to. They deserved every one of them for the crimes they committed against you. “I didn’t want to leave you for too long though. I didn’t want you to be alone.”

You smiled at him. “Thank you, Master.”

He became even more confused as you closed the remaining space between you both, pressing yourself into his chest. His hand was still clutched against your face and you nuzzled against it, not caring about the residual blood. With your free arm, you loosely encircled his waist and hugged him as best you could while he was so unresponsive.

When he didn’t respond, you pulled away nervously.

“Sorry?” You said, unsure of his response. His face seemed so uncharacteristically blank. Usually, you could tell how he felt just by looking at him. He was an expressive person. Now, his eyes seemed hollow as they stared at you.

“Master?” You prompted.

He sighed, roughly rubbing at his head. “Didn’t it repulse you?”

“That you murdered those men? I’ve already told you, I’ve seen you kill…”

“Not like that.” He repeated. “Doesn’t it offend your moral principles that I caused such torment? I didn’t use the TCE, pet. It went on a bit.”

“I know.” Even though you hadn’t been able to hear what was going on outside the TARDIS, you knew how long the Master was gone for. And you saw the state he was in when he got back. You had some idea of what he had done.

“Doesn’t it repulse you?” He asked incredulously.

You thought about it – your imagination, unfortunately, pulling out all the stops in recreating the ways he could have killed them. You had tried to save those men, but they hadn’t listened.

“They weren’t good people.” You said. “They were going to hurt me if you hadn’t paid the ransom.”

“I would never have allowed that to happen.” The Master insisted, stepping slightly closer, emotion briefly flickering behind his eyes.

“I know.” You assured. “I knew you would come for me. I think that’s what kept me so calm throughout it all. I was never worried about dying. I knew you’d save me.”

“I could have been too late,” he tried to argue, “you shouldn’t have so much faith in me. You still need to be careful or one day…”

“I trust you, Master.” You told him, watching him fall silent again. “I wouldn’t want to stay if I didn’t. And I wouldn’t want to stay if I thought you’d gone too far today. I – I understand why you did it. I know you want to keep me safe.”

“Travelling with me is dangerous, love.”

“I know. You’ve told me every day since I’ve come aboard.” You chuckled, trying to lighten the atmosphere. “Luckily for both of us, I like a little danger.”

“I’m more than a little dangerous.” The Master said darkly.

You laughed again, nervously this time. “Luckily for both of us,” you said, trying to seem confident, “I like you too.”

Pressing yourself into his arms again, too anxious to see his reaction to your words, you exhaled in relief when he finally reciprocated your embrace. The Master rested his head against yours and, so quietly you barely heard it, he confessed, “I like you too, pet.”

Speaking louder, he told you, “All right. You need to get some sleep, love. Long day for the human.”

As you were still cocooned in his embrace, you felt confident enough to ask, “Can I sleep in your room tonight?”

He didn’t answer right away and you worried you’d crossed a line again. He had let you do so before in the past after that mysterious stranger had invaded the TARDIS, but perhaps those had been exceptional circumstances.

“Sorry,” you apologised again, “I just…”

“Don’t apologise.” The Master said. “You shouldn’t be afraid to ask for what you need.”

Tilting your head back, you looked up at him. You knew full well what you wanted, but what you needed at that moment: “I just, I don’t want to be alone.”

“Don’t worry, pet. I’ll keep you safe.” He promised.

Scooping you up, despite your protestations you could walk, he started carrying you back to his room when he suddenly realised you were still dressed in the cocktail dress you’d been taken in.

“Let’s get you some clean clothes first,” he encouraged, detouring to your bedroom. You tried to get them yourself but he batted away your hands and picked up your pyjamas for you, tossing them on your stomach as he carried you back to his room.

He dropped you into the bathroom first, where you were unable to resist a quick shower before changing. Much like all the rooms he had designed for himself, including his bedroom and library, it was a stunning space. While you’d never complained about the rooms you’d been assigned on the TARDIS, after seeing his you decided you’d have to ask about an upgrade. His bathtub was the size of a pool.

He was waiting for you outside, sat in his desk chair. He hopped up as soon as you walked in, taking you by the shoulders to guide you towards the bed. Everything inside was as beautiful as you remembered. The dark panelled walls, leading your eyes up towards the vaulted ceiling. His large bed, its pale gold sheets, which felt soft on your skin as the Master settled you down. It smelled of him and you felt all the remaining tension in your body disappear as he pulled the blankets over you.

“I’ll go get you some water. It will help flush the drugs out of your system.” He offered.

“No,” you protested, catching his arm as he tried to move away, “it’s fine. Can you just lay here with me, please?”

The Master seemed to have overcome some of the boundaries he’d tried to impose the first time you shared a bed, immediately pressing into your side instead of trying to maintain space between your bodies. Brushing the hair away from your face, the Master gently petted you until you fell asleep, promising over and over again until he was confident you would believe him that he would never let anything happen to you.

“I promise, pet. You will never have to go through this again.”

Seriously, why did I make all these titles alliterative! This ended up longer than planned, but I'm quite pleased with it. I hope you all enjoyed reading!

N.B. I've now made a Discord group for Master fans (and other Dhawan characters like Orlo, Davos etc). If you're interested in joining, message me for the link!

#dhawan!master #doctor who #dhawan!master x reader #The Master #master x reader

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obsidianfr3sk · 4 years

Text

Beginnings and Endings (Part 1)

@renegadesnet event 2: august of anarchy

↪ [The Artino Brothers]

Summary: In the beginning, it was just the two of them: David and Alec, the Artino Brothers. Then, they brought anarchy into the world. Now, David is not sure if there would be enough of themselves by the end of it. "Don't call me Alec anymore. Now I am Ace. Ace Anarchy."

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25686343/chapters/62363560

This is my contribution to August of Anarchy. It will be a two-part fic about the relationship between Ace and his brother from David’s POV. We have little information about how their relationship actually was, so I had a lot of fun coming up with headcanons and that kinda stuff.

Thanks so much to @dawniebb and @healing-winston-pratt for the timeline they did that helped me with the creation of this fic. I actually also used it for my other fic, The Origins, but I didn’t remembered you guys did it and I just had the image saved on my phone lol (I can credit you for that if you want me to, there’s no problem with that!) Son las mejores <3

The start of the beginning

Age of anarchy Year 0

His fingers felt hotter and hotter with each golden thread they held. A light coat of sweat ran all over his body, but he wasn't sure if it was because he was nervous or because they didn't have air conditioning and it was midsummer.

It wasn’t like he had no reason to be nervous. He had never used his powers for something so important.

Alec watched every movement and noticed every breath. His dark eyes were slightly closed and his lips were pursed. David had the same face.

"Am I doing something wrong?" he whispered.

"You are doing a good job," Alec said. "Why?"

"Because you haven't stopped watching every move I make and—"

"Don't worry, it's not personal—" he pursed his lips more "—I'm always watching."

David rolled his eyes. "You're lurking."

Alec picked up a dry cloth on the splintered coffee table and rubbed it across his brother’s forehead. David thanked him.

"That's not true," Alec replied, "I just enjoy staring at people from the shadows. It is a healthy hobby ”

"I'm sure it isn't."

But hey, what did David know about healthy hobbies? All he had done in those last months was accompany his brother to work during the day and watch television until late at night. Those were his hobbies. And he wasn't even sure if the first one counted as one.

David had been expelled from his school more than six months ago after the principal found out that he was a prodigy. According to her, that was not the reason for his expulsion. It was that he had lied and it was illegal to lie about your status as a prodigy for profit.

"So you do accept schools for prodigies have a lower educational level than schools for non-prodigies?" Alec asked the principal with a defiant attitude.

When Alec tried to enroll him in another school, he discovered that she had already warned the entire school district about David and no elementary school would be accepting him in the near future. He refused to enroll David in a school for prodigies because he would only fall behind in his studies. Apparently, those schools did not receive half the funds that the other schools received.

"Because they’re for ordinary kids," said David, "and I'm not."

“You are not an ordinary kid, that's true. You are extraordinary. Do not let anyone tell you otherwise."

In the beginning, David had remained positive. It was fun to accompany Alec to work, just like the old days. But the weeks passed and it was increasingly difficult not to miss his friends, his favorite teachers, and the math lessons that he liked so much. How did Alec never get tired of the monotony?

"Look, it's already taking shape," Alec exclaimed.

He was right.

"Do you think it looks like the one in your drawing?" he asked him.

"I don't want to give a verdict until you finish it, but yeah, it's a lot like it."

For David, Alec was a great artist. He was also a good brother and a remarkable student, judging by the diplomas on the walls of their old house. At the time, he had also been a good son, although David could not give proof of it. And neither did their parents.

Seven years ago, their parents had died in an explosion at the offices of the organization they were part of. It was called "Prodigies for the Alliance with the Non-Prodigies". His father preferred to call it "Anarchist Group" because the original name was “fucking dumb”. Over time, David realized that the real reason he called it like that was that he liked to see his wife frown every time he referred to her as "fellow anarchist Bianca."

"We are not anarchists," her mother insisted as she used her powers to levitate her cup of coffee. When she was angry, her blue eyes turned red. "We are—"

"Anarchists" interrupted his father. He turned his spoon into gold and raised an eyebrow.

“It is forbidden to use your powers at the table, Alessandro. And no, we are rebels. ”

"Anarchist rebels!" Alec exclaimed.

"Alec, your cereal, you're going to spill it!"

That was his last memory of them.

The news said it had been an accident with the gas pipes. There were some other theorizing that it had been a dispute between members of the organization.

"After all, so many prodigies in one place cannot be trusted," said a young lady from the newscast. “The prodigies are violent, even with each other. They don’t always know how to con—"

Alec appeared behind him and turned off the television.

"Don't watch that. Those are lies."

They had just returned from the funeral. David had not taken off his coat yet.

"Really?" he asked.

His brother nodded. “It was not an argument or an accident. It was an attack. And I have evidence to prove it. ”

The next day, he took David to the police station. Alec explained to the policemen about the bricks thrown at the windows of their house, about the graffiti that appeared on the porch, and about the death threats, their parents constantly received. He even showed them a box full of evidence, with photos and letters. But the only thing the policemen did was laugh at him and knock both brothers out of the place after Alec had the great idea of using his powers against them. That definitely hadn't helped their case.

"Mom would have thrown a chair at that idiot officer, too," Alec told him as they drove back to the house.

"I envy you," David mumbled.

"Why?"

"Because you will always have something of hers that I don't," he answered.

"David, look at yourself in a mirror. You are her living portrait. That is something I will never have.”

From then on, he took David everywhere, to the park, to the bank, or to the two jobs he had so they could pay the bills. David asked who would take care of him when Alec left for college in the fall.

"I won’t be going to college," he replied. "I already have other plans."

After so long, David finally found out about his brother's plans. He knew every last detail. They had spent sleepless nights talking about it and wondering what their parents would think. David was convinced that his father would be delighted, but he wasn't quite sure about his mother’s reaction. Alec assured him she would understand.

They had already tried everything. It was time for someone to do something for real. And that someone, was going to be Alec.

Finally, the helmet materialized in front of them. It was made of the most precious gold of all and identical to how David had imagined it.

Alec closed his eyes and held out his hand. The helmet began to levitate and slowly settled over his head. The sun streaming through the window revealed tiny golden particles floating around him. When Alec opened his eyes again, he appeared more fierce than ever. However, David was not afraid; he was amazed at his work.

"Perfect," Alec whispered. "It feels perfect. Nice job."

"Thank you…"

Alec stood up and headed for the door. "Well, I guess it’s showtime."

David jumped up and hurried to put on his shoes to catch up. Alec was about to leave when he realized what his younger brother was doing.

"No, David, you stay," he ordered.

"What? Why?" he asked indignantly.

“It is not an appropriate show for eleven-year-olds."

"But-"

"David."

Alec had not inherited his mother's eyes, but he had definitely inherited that horrible look that could intimidate even the bravest of humans.

David backed away, feeling pathetic and childish. The fact he was wearing one shoe and had a yogurt stain on his shirt didn't make him look more mature. He sat down on the floor and hid his face between his legs.

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.

"But who's going to take care of me?" he mumbled.

His older brother rolled his eyes as he approached him. “You are old enough to be alone for a couple of hours. Or days. "

"Days?!"

He had never been alone for more than five minutes when Alec went to the store across the street. It was too much responsibility, how would he be able to handle it?

Then, Alec lifted him off the ground. David gasped. His brother had never been able to do that with such ease, but he had no time to be amazed, because judging by his expression, Alec was not looking happy at all.

“David, listen. This is not a game."

"I know," he replied, doing his best to imitate his mother's frown.

"I know you know it," Alec said. He hadn't intimidated him. “But I want to be sure that you understand the magnitude of what I'm about to do. It will be a massive change in the way the world is controlled. ”

David crossed his arms and looked away. Alec gently returned him to the ground and ruffled his hair, slightly chuckling. David couldn't help but smile. Just a little though. He didn't want his brother to think he agreed with the decision he had made.

There was no point arguing with him. The more time his brother spent there, the longer the beginning of the end would be delayed.

Immediately, he mentally corrected himself. Alec had said not to call it the beginning of the end. What he was going to do was not the end of anything; it was the start of the beginning.

"What do I do while you’re gone?" he asked, without turning to see him.

Alec put his hands on his shoulders. "Stay here as long as you can. Secure all doors and windows and don't go out unless it’s absolutely— ”

Somebody knocked on the door. Alec and David held their breath for the ten seconds that person stood outside their apartment. A couple of letters slipped under the door and the person left.

David wanted to go pick up the mail, but his brother's grip grew stronger.

"Don't stop to help anyone, David," Alec went on. "As long as I'm not there, you're the only one who can protect you. Do you understand? No one else matters, no one else will help you. Only you can help yourself." He took him by the chin to make him look him in the eye. "Understood, David?"

He had never seen his brother have such a severe expression. Alec had never spoken so seriously to him and had never forced him to look at him. For a second, David thought that it was the helmet that made his brother seem more frightening. But it couldn’t be that.

After all, the world was about to change. It made sense that Alec changed too.

Would David change?

"Understood, Alec," he replied.

"Don't call me Alec anymore." He released his chin and smiled at him. “Now I am Ace. Ace Anarchy. ”

"Ace Anarchy," David repeated. He let the name finish to visualize inside his head. "I like how it sounds."

Alec ruffled his hair once more. "I knew you would like it, my little nightmare."

#renegadesnet #renegades #archenemies #supernova #ao3 #fanfic #beginnings and endings #alec james artino #ace anarchy #david artino

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nephilimsarchive · 4 years

Text

If only you knew (pt.3) | Arthur Fleck x reader smut

Summary: You hadn’t seen him in a while after your last meeting, but fate always seemed to find away to bring you together.

Note: im so sorry this took so long, hope you like it!

Warnings: nsfw content under the cut, don’t read if you are under 18, lots of swearing, unprotected sex, public-ish sex

Word Count: 4937

Read the first part here.

Second part here.

Arthur woke up early the next morning, slowing adjusting to his surroundings as sunlight shone into his eyes. You had been on his mind all night long. He could see you so vividly, soft (h/c) hair falling onto your shoulders, lidded (e/c) eyes staring up at him through flushed cheeks, and that breathtaking smile. You had absolutely bewitched him, occupying every second of his dreams since nightfall.

He was so caught up with the image in his head that only then he noticed that the bed he was laying in wasn’t his, and the weight on his left shoulder wasn’t usually there. He lazily turned his head, wanting to savor every second of this marvelous dream. His jaw collided with something soft, eyes shooting open at the realization.

He was awake. And you were there. With him.

His arm was slung around you, hand on your waist, cuddling as if you were lovers. Soft breaths made their way past your plump lips, the expression on your face one of pure peacefulness. He had wanted to fight the urge to kiss you, but ended up gently pecking the top of your head anyway. Try as he might, he couldn’t escape his emerging feelings for you. Actually, they were growing with every minute he spent gazing at your sleeping form, drawing small circles on your waist with his thumb. He had never met anyone quite like you, and it was scaring him. Never had he been exposed to such kindness, you didn’t judge him like so many other people did. Then again …you didn’t know about his condition, you didn’t know much about him at all. Neither did he, you could have a boyfriend, or worse - a husband. You didn’t know he was earning money as a clown, and you didn’t know how damn much he adored you after one single night. What if this was nothing but fun to you?

A bitter feeling spread through his chest at the thought, but his lips curved into a smile. Oh, he knew what was coming, and how much he hated it.

He tried to untangle himself from your embrace swiftly, making you shift and sigh. His chest heaved as laughter bubbled up inside him. “Stay.”, he heard you mumble, voice sleepy. Lips tightly shut he ignored your plea, making his heart ache. He picked up his clothes as quickly as he could, trying to get out before he could startle you with one of his uncontrollable fits. Getting into his pants he clasped his hand in front of his mouth, cursing his illness for what must be the millionth time. He would’ve loved to spend more time laying with you, it was too early to even stay up. But he’d be damned if he woke you up with this, seeing the horror in your face as you’d surely question your decision to spend the night with him - or even talk to him at all. Unwanted laughter escaped him even before exiting your flat, and he could only hope you didn’t hear.

If Arthur leaving your side didn’t wake you up yet, the door falling shut after hearing him chortle surely did. You turned onto your back drowsily, tired eyes staring at the ceiling while you pondered if you should’ve gone after him. But you didn’t. Instead you were lying awake, at 5 in the morning.

—

The days since Arthurs and your last meeting were fairly uneventful. In fact, you hadn’t seen or heard from him at all. Whenever you were at university Arthur was home, and whenever he was at work you were back. One day you were sure you had heard him in his flat, but your knock on the door had been ignored. Some people would say he is trying to avoid you at all costs, and frankly, they’d be correct.

Now, he didn’t at all intend to be like this, but to say he was overwhelmed with the whole situation would be an understatement. There were so many questions and emotions in his head that he had to sort out. When he entered his flat that morning he swore to himself that he’d find a way to explain his condition, and that he only left because he didn’t want to disturb you. He’d say that he’s absolutely smitten with you, for plenty of reasons, and then he’d ask you out.

In his head, he played out this scene a thousand times. He thought about what to wear, and thought about whether he should give you chocolates or flowers. But when it actually came to doing what he had planned, something held him back. Even though he knew you tried to reach out to him, years of negative experiences of not being cared for discouraged him. Not to mention the fact that Arthur never had any sort of romantic relationship, and thus only could try to impress you with what he had seen on TV.

Penny had noticed immediately that something within him changed as he came back that morning. He had told her about you, of course not in more detail than necessary, and she knew how much he felt for you with the way he spoke. His eyes shone as bright as stars and the corners of his mouth curved upwards whenever your name was mentioned. She saw him then, standing in front of the small mirror in his bedroom, in that outfit he had laid out days ago, fixing his hair.

No doubt he was going through what he wanted to say to you in his head. “Happy.”, she exclaimed, the tone of her voice soothing “Just go, she’ll say yes.”.

He saw his mothers reflection through the mirror, pondering what she said. Then he thought about you, about how accomplished he would feel if he did this - a smile crept across his face. He kissed Pennys forehead and strutted out of the flat.

—

A small box of chocolates was stowed in his bag as his hand reached out to one of the buttons of the elevator, then to his hair to smooth it out. He had saved up for the occasion, not enough to buy one of those fancy golden packages with more flavors you could count, but a decent one nonetheless.

Just then you were coming back home, your (f/c) dress flowing in the breeze, feeling shivers run down your legs. Having to pick up a pace as you saw the elevator doors sliding shut, you were barely able to squeeze through the remaining gap.

And there he stood. Arthur.

His hair was perfectly in place, he wore black dress pants, a jacket and beneath that a simple white button up. Truthfully, he looked amazing. Both of you were surprised at whose company you found yourselves with. You wanted to ask him whether you had done something wrong, whether you had pressured him into something he didn’t want. You wanted to make him feel like he can talk to you, trust you even. Anything that sounded like you weren’t as hurt by his behavior.

But no words made it past your lips. You just stood there, staring blankly at the elevator doors.

Arthur couldn’t believe his eyes as you had stepped in. Your hair was up in a ponytail, a few thin strands had fallen out because of the wind. A pretty (f/c) dress ended just above your knees, showing off your gorgeous figure in all the right places. You looked like an angel. Beautiful, intimidatingly so.

He had expected you to say something, but you stayed mute. The seconds went by agonizingly slow as his hands grew sweaty around the handles of the tiny bag he was carrying. Before, you were so wonderfully outgoing and open with him, and now he had rendered you to this state.

Only then he noticed how you must’ve blamed yourself for his actions.

Even the tiniest scratching sound the elevator made seemed louder than usual, when suddenly it came to the same unsteady halt the elevator always made, signaling that you would be up soon.

Something inside Arthur switched, there was no way he was going to let this stupid elevator, or his stupid illness destroy what he had spent all week preparing and rehearsing. He knew he’d regret if he let you walk away. So, without thinking twice, his elbow crashed onto the emergency button. You jumped, shrieking in shock as the machine stopped any movement completely, lights turning off. A dim lightbulb flickered to life - you could barely make out Arthur. He was walking towards you in the strobing light, determination in his eyes that you had only seen from him once before. He stood in front of you, bringing his hands to your cheeks before pulling you in to kiss you deeply.

As your lips touched his you felt complete again. He lingered on the softness of your skin, but broke away too soon. The kiss hadn’t been long, but held emotions words cannot convey. Gently, he rested his forehead against yours. A blush surely would have been visible on your cheeks if the lighting was better. He opened his eyes to find you looking up at him, the wild look in his eyes was gone as quickly as it came. As if he was constantly between stuck two extremes, an angel and a devil on his shoulders.

„I’m so, so sorry.“, he whispered, „I never meant to make you feel bad, or ignore you.“ Cautiously, he took your small hands into his, rubbing circles over your knuckles with his thumb, thankful that you didn’t pull back.

He told you about his condition, about his doubts, and about the fact that no matter how hard he tried to fight it, there is always a part of him that thinks he isn’t deserving of the affection you gave him - or that you simply didn’t mean it. He explained that he left so his illness wouldn’t ruin the one thing that seems to bring a sense of happiness to his life. You. He meant you.

You felt tears forming in your eyes, both from feeling honored and not wanting to hear him talk about himself like that. A staggering amount of - dare you say love? - built up inside your chest. He noticed your tears, and just like that all of his personal worries were replaced by concern for you.

„Are you alright?“, he asked. You nodded and pulled him into a hug, savoring his closeness as he ran his hand down your back soothingly. Stroking his cheek with your thumb, you glanced into his eyes, “Don’t you dare even for one second think that I’m just playing with you, or that you don’t deserve love.“, you brushed away your tears, voice growing more and more steady with each of your words, „You’re the most kind-hearted man I’ve ever met. I like you for you, I like how much you try to always do the right thing. I love hearing you laugh, I love being close to you. I don’t care if you’re older than me, or if you don’t have a lot of experience with relationships. There’s something incredibly romantic about that, actually. And I couldn’t be any happier that you trust me enough to let me be your first..“.

A short silence engulfed you. Then he beamed, a genuine expression of joy on his clean-cut face. „If that‘s the case.. There is something I‘ve been wanting to, uh, ask you anyway.“. He stepped back attentively, picking up an item you hadn’t noticed was there. Inhaling and exhaling deeply, he looked you over and began „Y/N.“, another big breath, „I have never expected to meet anyone who is as nice to me as you have been.“, his certainty crumbled for a second, then he smiled again. „You are the most stunning woman I have ever laid my eyes on, and I‘d be more than honored if you wanted to go out with me.“, shaky hands handed you a box of chocolates, which - to his luck - was your favorite candy.

Contemplating whether he messed up the small text he had come up with his stare was fixated onto the ground before him, too shy to be able to see the grin on your face. You adored how much effort he put into this. It was obvious how much he was trying to do this properly, after your rather unconventional start.

You stepped closer to him, tilting his chin up with your fingers. „Of course, Arthur. I‘d love to.“, you said, pecking him on his lips sweetly. Pulling back, you studied his features, breathing in his scent as he held you close. The look in his eyes was soft and loving, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “You have no idea how handsome you are, do you?”, you stroked his hair absentmindedly. The response to your question was an alarmingly red blush on his cheeks, his eyes blown wide. He had never, ever gotten complimented on his looks before. You giggled and pressed a kiss onto his nose.

You stood like that for a while before you took a step backwards. You properly assessed the situation; you were stuck, and had no idea when any help would show up. Arthur seemed to realize that, too. “Well, what are we going to do now?”, you queried, looking around you for inspiration, and finding none. “We can’t have our first real date in a brittle elevator.” He laughed at that, leaning onto one of the walls, his arms crossed. Looking you over he licked his lips subconsciously. Being with you made him feel much more secure in so many ways. Above all, he felt like he could fully be himself. To the extent that it brought out parts of Arthur not even he himself had known until then. A cocky smirk lit up his face. “I’d have an idea.”

You raised your eyebrows while he was taking off his jacket, throwing it into a corner. You were fully aware what he was talking about, but ready to challenge him. “Oh?”, you hushed, propping yourself up on the wall opposite him, “And what might that be?”. His long fingers rolled up his sleeves, keeping his eyes on you.

The grin on his face never faltered while he took two big confident steps towards you, placing one of his hands next to your head. Heat radiated off him in waves as he stood in front if you, towering over your smaller form and tilting up your chin just like you had before. “I don’t think you’re in the position to act coy, little one.”, he growled, peeling you out of your coat „In fact, last time you made the naughtiest of sounds for me.“.

The way he spoke sent shivers down your spine, and he knew that.

His hand reached your waist as his head moved to your neck, he trailed kisses from the shell of your ear to your neck, sliding down a strap of your dress to reach that certain spot on your shoulder.

He had paid attention, taking note of every tiny detail that made you melt under his hands. When he drew back you grabbed his collar, crashing your lips onto his. Desire and hunger controlled you as your tongues danced. Arthur took complete control of the kiss, unspoken permission in each of your gasps. His kisses were desperate, verging on starvation as he bucked his hips against you. You moaned at the contact, hands tangled into his hair, which - combined with your dress sliding up your legs ever so slightly - resulted in a low hum from your lover.

His cock was hard as he ground himself against you, a familiar wetness spreading between your legs. He shifted, tilting his head to test out new angles, tasting you until you finally broke away.

“Arthur..”, your voice sounded alien to yourself. He had you wrapped around his finger in no time, and he loved it. Just once, he did what he wanted, not thinking about the consequences. His eyes travelled over your body, lingering on your chest. The buttons that held your dress closed over your breast were tensioning with every breath you took. The motion of your chest rising and falling provoked him to slither his fingers up your hip to your stomach. Feeling his knuckles ghost over your hardened nipples you released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You watched as delicate fingers popped open one button after the other, not daring to move. A sharp intake of breath rang in the silence of the room when it was just enough for him to be able to see your bra.

He took in the sight before him. Red laces graced your full cleavage, the fabric tensing over your nipples while you rubbed your thighs against each other subconsciously. Noticing your doings he pushed a knee between your legs, keeping them apart.

„Tsk, tsk.“, he scolded, „So impatient, so eager.“ His left hand pinched your nipple, making you whimper in delight. Slender fingers brushed under the edge of the lacy cloth, exposing you to him as his right hand began kneading your other breast. He came even closer to you, intentionally brushing his leg along your slit. „Patience“, he had said, „is a virtue.“ You shivered at how sultry and controlling he sounded, but his antics were a double edged sword. His lips came down, leaving open mouthed kisses all over your breasts. You arched your back, feeling his stiff member twitch as he left little bites and marks. His hands wandered over your body freely this time, not holding back whatsoever. Becoming aware of the cold air on your skin you groaned out his name again.

„Hmm?“, his voice vibrated against your sensitive skin as he groped your breasts. A wicked grin was on his face as he drew back, pupils blown wide. He cocked his head to the side. „What is it that you want, kitten?“ The nickname he chose went straight to your clit. Even though you felt powerless to his touch, you loved this side of him, and you wanted to show him just that. He was confident, dominating, and so very sexy. If all he wants is for you to say it, then you damn will. You held his stare confidently, biting your lip as you tried to sound as seductive as you could „I want to suck you off.“

Your request caught him off guard and pulled him back into reality. For a second, he couldn’t phantom how you wanted to put his pleasure before yours. All of his thoughts were wiped away as he saw you drop to your knees before him.

Rubbing your hands against the cloth of his pants his breathing accelerated. His eyes were glued to your movements, hardened member reacting to every little of your touches. The noise of his belt unbuckling sounded horribly erotic in your presence, aching cock finally freed. You took him into your hands, gently stroking at first. He was rock hard, like steel wrapped in silk. Precum leaked at the tip of his member and you licked your lips. Holding the base of his cock, you looked up at him through your eyelashes as you gave a long lick along his shaft. Arthur shuddered and moaned, throwing his head back in the process. Finally taking him into your mouth his hips bucked towards you, his body reacting on its own accord.

A string of curses, praises and your name fell from his parted lips, fueling your need to pleasure him. You picked up a pace, running your skilled tongue along the lower side of his member. “Fuck, Y/N.”, he rasped, his words laced with pleasure. One of his hands grabbed your ponytail, “That feels so good, babygirl.”

In any other moment he would’ve felt awkward about the way he was talking to you, using phrases and names he had picked up elsewhere. But right then, he didn’t give a shit about anything other than the way those pretty lips of yours felt wrapped around his cock.

You felt him thrust into your mouth, juices pooling between your legs. You wanted release, wanted to touch yourself to loosen the ever tightening knot in your stomach. But you didn’t, and instead focused on Arthur alone. He was sweating, panting and rocking his hips towards you cautiously. You knew he was probably trying to hold back, scared of hurting you. So you looked up at him, waiting for him to return your gaze. When he did, you met his thrusts, deepthroating him until you felt your nose touch his pelvis. A strangled roar escaped him as he was completely overwhelmed with the wet muscles engulfing him. The grip on your hair tightened as you kept him in your mouth. Tears strung in the corner of your eyes, then you finally released him with a loud pop.

The way you stared up at him then was intoxicating, disheveled hair, perky tits falling out of your bro, a string of saliva connecting your swollen lips to him. Usually, he would have been concerned about the gagging sounds you had been making, unsure about how watery your eyes looked. But his mind was hazy, smothered with immense pleasure.

His hands on your face guided you up, craving your touch too much to let you go for long. You stood in front of him while he - with a surprising amount of carefulness - wiped away the tears that had formed in your eyes, brushing away a loose strand of hair. You could make out the ghost of a smile on his face before his lips were on yours again. He begged for entrance impatiently, groaning as he tasted himself on your tongue. His hands suddenly grabbed your bottom, bringing you up against the wall as you gasped. Your dress hiked up, pooling around your hips. One of your hands searched the surface of the railing to hold onto, pushing yourself closer to him.

You were thankful for the way he was holding you, not having to worry about keeping yourself up as his erection pressed onto you. You rocked your hips towards him involuntarily. Arthur moaned at how soaked you were, his breathing getting progressively heavier. The thin layer of the underwear you wore was the only thing separating him from your aching core. He pulled away from the kiss he had ben roughly holding, staring at you like he was admiring his prey.

He freed one of his hands, slowly moving it to your panties. Rubbing teasingly slow circles over your most sensitive area he cooed, “Shit, little one. So wet for me, hm?”. You nodded obediently and his fingers immediately moved faster. “That’s right, Y/N.“, a tingling sensation built in your stomach at the pressure of his fingers, just enough to have you go crazy, not enough to get you off. He must’ve sensed your desperation. „You want me to fuck you?” He demanded, knowing the answer fully well.

„Yes, please.“, you breathed wantonly.

“Good girl”, he praised, tearing off your panties and ripping them in the process. You shrieked, pleasure and shock in your voice as his boldness made you feel hotter with every passing second. You held onto him for dear life as he rubbed the tip of his painfully hard member against you.

He pushed himself inside then, both of your moans filled the small room immediately. Going slow at first he pulled out of you completely before slamming back into you with full force. You screamed at the inseparable mixture of pain and pleasure, the knot inside you pulling tighter with each of his thrusts. The feeling of him inside you was better than anything you had ever experienced. Arthur was panting, „Fuck, Y/N. Just like that.“. His endurance was rising with his need to please you. He was pounding into you like a machine, steady and forceful. Working your body flawlessly, he brought you closer and closer to the edge. By now you were moaning an incoherent mess of words, but Arthur loved it. Fuck, it was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. Determination boosted through him, wanting to feel you come undone for him. „Argh!… Ar… Arthur!“, he could make out his name between lustful groans, „I’m going to..“

You couldn’t finish you sentence before the knot in your stomach exploded, a feral scream breaking through you. Pleasure was seeping through your whole body in waves, filling you with far more sensations than you were possibly able to process. Arthur shuddered at the sound, not once stopping his motions. The picture in front of him was the most appealing thing he had ever seen. He rode you through your orgasm, strands of hair sticking to his sweaty face, all of his focus on you.

Arthurs hips slowed down at some point, and you started shaking from the way he was keeping you in your position, forcing you to endure the endless mixture of pleasure and torture he brought upon you. „Ah, Arthur. I..“, you tried to voice how intense this feeling was, how you felt your juices drip already, but you couldn’t. He wanted to keep up the expression of pleased desire and nonexistent self-control in your eyes. Hell, if it was his choice he’d always see you exactly like this. Legs spread, shivers raking over every inch of your body, his name on your lips, pleading him.

Gradually, you came down from your high, but you didn’t get too far.

By now he was more than willing to find out just how much he can unravel you. Oh, he was zealous. His firm cock was still inside you, feeling your hot walls clench around him as he kept up his motions. Slowing down to an agonizing velocity, he pulled himself in and out, driving you insane as a new orgasm built up inside of you.

You almost felt dizzy as his fingers found your clit again, drawing circular motions on your swollen bud. Your mind was clouded with arousal, it almost felt as if you were watching the whole scene from afar. His thumb felt deliciously rough against your slippery skin, your eyes meeting his as he opened his mouth to speak. „I want you..“, he whispered as he continued penetrating you a little faster, moving to your neck and biting, „To come for me, again.“

You trembled in both fear and anticipation as he dominated you. He pounded into you harder again, building up a reckless speed. You were unable to grasp a single clear thought, the overstimulation taking over your body. And your body did what it only could, it reacted, it obeyed. Your back arched as one of his thrusts left you seeing stars, hitting your g-spot. Without inhibition you were calling his name, as he hit that devilish spot over and over again.

His breathing got more and more ragged, nonetheless he kept up the motions on your clit, slamming himself into you with all the force he could muster. Heavy-lidded eyes gazed at him as he repeated your name, both of you getting alarmingly close to the release. He lost the rhythm he had been keeping up, heartbeat soaring through his chest as he paid attention to his hand on your soaked cunt, going faster, merciless. „Come for me.“, he grunted, „Now.“. Just like that, you broke.

A deafening cry you didn’t know you were capable of tore through you as your walls tightened around him. He tripped over the edge at the same time, your orgasm causing his. Passionately he growled your name. You could sense his member jerk inside of you, spilling his seed deeply into you.

Arthur lingered just like that for a moment, buried deep inside of you, feeling the voluptuous combination of both of your fluids trickling down his shaft. With you, he felt like he was on top of the world. He finally pulled out of you, letting you down slowly, steadying your wobbly stance. Only then he noticed how strained his muscles were. By that time you were finally, slowly coming back on earth, noticing how the air around you had turned damp. Little drops of water ran down the fogged mirror beside you.

You felt like you had run a marathon, both of you catching your breaths like idiots and smiling dopey at each other. Brushing your hand over his chest to his cheek you noticed how his stare was directed to the box of chocolates he had given you before. You wouldn’t be surprised if they had started melting by how warm it had gotten. Arthur seemed to have the same idea, both of you erupting in giggles.

Suddenly, the light flickered again as the elevator sprung into motion. „Shit, shit, shit.“, he cursed as you tucked yourself into your dress, fixing your hair as much as you could. Arthur hastily picked up the remains of your panties, stuffing them into his pockets. A loud „ding!“ signalized that you made it to your designated floor, alarmed expression on your lovers face. You smiled at Arthur reassuringly, sashaying out of the elevator with his hand in yours like nothing happened.

Either you were oblivious to the distraught stares of the small group of people who greeted you outside the elevator, or you just didn’t care. You just turned your head towards him, satisfied grin playing on your lips.

Right then he knew, you would be the death of him.

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