#he leads me down to a nearby pond and helps me wash away all the blood and brushes my tangled hair. lends me clothes. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

baepsaesbae · 3 years

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Eclipse

Pairing— Day Fairy!Hoseok x Night fairy!reader

Genre— SMUT, fae au, angst, idiots to lovers

Warnings— Oral (F receiving), nipple play, explicit unprotected sex, hair pulling, both praise and slight derogatory dirty talk bc I can’t make up my mind, slight swearing

Word Count— 3.3k

Summary— The summer solstice is here and it’s time to celebrate. Your favorite part of the solstice is that you get to see Hoseok, or rather, the love of your life. It’s too bad you haven’t told him how you really felt, even though it has been centuries. Maybe this year will be different.

A/N— This fic is part of The Fabled Collab hosted by @joontopia, @kimtaehyunq, and @whipped-for-kpop-fics. Hoseok is my sunshine, so I just had to write about him! Thank you to @s0seo and @taegularities for giving me motivation to write. Lastly, huge shoutout to Eden from @thebiasrekkers for making this awesome banner for me! As always, let me know how you guys like the fic! My askbox is always open <3

Fae clans have many holidays and rituals, but solstices are by far the most celebrated. Solstices mark the pivotal event that shifts the seasonal responsibilities between the sun and moon clans. The summer and winter solstice are always the biggest events of the year, with about a week of festivities leading up to the final event.

Sweat ran down your spine as the sun beat down on you. You’ve been holding up a stupid banner for what felt like an eternity.

“Okay wait, you’re gonna hate me but I think we should put it back to where we originally had it,” Sunghoon said with furrowed brows.

“That’s it. We’ve been doing this all morning. Figure this out yourself,” you angrily threw down the banner and stormed off before Sunghoon had the chance to yell at you.

You ignored the friendly calls from other fae that were setting up decor nearby. It was way past your bedtime. Cranky and drenched in sweat, you were definitely not a happy night fairy. Heading straight to the pond, you derobed and found comfort in the cool waters that washed away your stress instantly. You gazed up at the blue sky while floating on your back. The day truly was beautiful, you couldn’t deny that. However, nighttime was better in your very much biased opinion. The dark sky littered with countless stars that glittered like diamonds was an unbeatable sight.

“Hey there sunshine!” a familiar voice interrupted your thoughts. You dipped back into the water and turned to the source of the sound.

“Hey there, perv. Care to join me?” you beckoned.

“I wish I could, but I need to go finalize some plans for the handoff ceremony--”

“It’s the same EVERY year. C’mon Hobi, you don’t need to go,” you whined.

“I’ll meet you back here at sunset, how does that sound?” he tried to appease you.

“Midnight. I’m already exhausted, I don’t wanna wake up early,” you blew raspberries into the pond.

“That’s fair. I’ll see you then okay?” Hoseok waved before flying off.

On top of parties filled with indulgences that would blow the mind of any feeble human, Hoseok was the added bonus that made you eager for each solstice. Admittedly, you two have had some sort of flirtationship going on for the past few centuries. Your friends always teased you about how madly head over heels you were for him. As much as you wanted to believe that he loved you in the same way, something always felt off.

Hoseok always reciprocated your flirtatious advances, but it felt more like a game between friends rather than something substantial. You’ve even observed his interactions with other fairies, and it didn’t seem like he gave you any special treatment. He was simply a good friendly guy that everyone loved, but not the way that you loved him.

You were dying to know how he truly felt about you. All these years of playful banter had been fun, but they had also been simultaneously eating away at you. There’s no way he doesn’t know that you love him. At the same time, what if he thinks you’re just a good friend? You needed to know for sure, and you intended to confront him about it at midnight.

“Good evening,” you greeted Hoseok shyly as you approached the pond’s bank.

“Good day to you sunshine,” Hoseok called back as he kicked at the water.

“How’d the meeting go?” you asked.

“Boring as always. You’re right, it’s the same every year. But the elders still want to go over everything again to ensure that the ceremony is perfect,” Hoseok sighed.

“Thanks for coming to hangout with me even though you’re so busy,” you said, suddenly feeling guilty.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been looking forward to this all day! You’re the perfect person to unwind with after a long day,” Hoseok smiled. There it was. The radiant smile you fell for the first time you ever met him.

“You sure I’m the perfect person for that? What do you do when you’re back in your own land surrounded by other day fae?” you prodded, hoping to steer the conversation onto the ‘what are we’ topic.

“I have my friends there for sure, and I appreciate them too. But it’s different with you. Maybe because I can only hangout with you twice a year. You’re like my super special friend, yaknow?” Hoseok tried to explain.

“Uh yeah, for sure. Like a special playdate kind of thing huh?” you tried to hide your hurt feelings.

“Exactly! You get it. It’s like you’re my favorite dessert that I can only have twice a year,” Hoseok nodded.

“Right…” you whispered softly to yourself. You spent the rest of the night listening to the unfruitful discussions Hoseok had during his meetings. All the excitement over the festival had drained from you. Now, you just wanted it to be over so you can go sulk in peace.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Hoseok observed, “You haven’t interjected once about how stupid our traditions are or how you’re looking forward to having long nights again.”

“Hm? Oh yeah, I’m just tired. Sunghoon really worked me to the bone yesterday, that damn day fairy,” you faked a yawn.

“Hey, be nice! Wasn’t it you who volunteered to help us anyway?” Hoseok shook his head.

‘Yeah, because I thought I’d be able to work with you,’ you thought.

“It was a bizarre streak of altruism, that’s all,” you shrugged.

“Nah, I know you’re a kind fairy deep down!” Hoseok playfully nudged your shoulder. Normally you would welcome this type of physical affection, but for right now it served as a painful reminder that you were merely seen as a buddy.

You actively avoided Hoseok for the remainder of the week, counting down the hours to when it would finally all be over. You made up some lame excuse to not hangout with Hoseok every time he approached you. He must have caught on by the final day, either that or he was extremely busy. Afterall, he was the MC for the entire ordeal.

Apparently, your abrasive reputation preceded you because no one wanted your help with anything. As soon as they saw you coming, they would randomly find themselves very preoccupied with something that made them too busy to talk to you. The only person who would put you to work was Sunghoon, who was one of Hoseok’s best friends. You wondered why he was always so nice to you even when you complained the entire time you helped him.

“That’s the last table! They all look great, thanks for helping with the set up,” Sunghoon gave you a thumbs up.

“You know it’s pointless setting up all these tables. Most of the fairies are just gonna be dancing or fucking all night long, no one is gonna be sitting down,” you said.

“Are you gonna be one of the fairies partying?” Sunghoon inquired.

“Definitely not,” you answered curtly.

“Then I’m happy at least one of these tables will be utilized,” Sunghoon nodded, “Try to enjoy yourself tonight okay?”

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes.

The entire forest seemed to come alive that night. The trees swayed with the enchanting music while cheers of merriment erupted around the party scene. You sat alone at a mushroom table with your third (or was it fourth?) cup of berry wine. You glared at the fairies who had lost themselves to their pleasures, whether it be the wine or the toadstools, or perhaps even both. Fairies who had given into their more lustful urges could be seen on the outskirts of the dance floor, some in the innocent stages of kissing and others entangled full fledged fornication. Scoffing at the obscene orgy, you stumbled off to get another cup of wine. Even though you weren’t really participating, you had to admit that fairies knew how to throw a party.

“Hey ___, I noticed you’ve been by yourself the whole evening. Want some company?” someone asked behind you as you filled up your mug to the brim. You turned to see two Sunghoons merge to become one hazy Sunghoon in the blink of an eye.

“F-ffuck off Sunghoon,” you slurred.

“I wanted to thank you for all the hard work you did for this year’s summer solstice,” Sunghoon continued, unfazed by your harshness, “Wanna dance to celebrate?”

“Nope,” you answered as you pushed him aside.

“Yeah she seemed pretty pissed dude,” Sunghoon said while taking a large swig.

“At you or in general?” Hoseok inquired.

“Dunno man, she’s always been like that. However, she seemed more aggravated than usual, which is hard to imagine,” Sunghoon chuckled, “Did you do something to her?”

“No! I’ve been replaying everything we talked about at the pond but everything seemed fine! I even told her that she was my super special friend and---oh shit,” Hoseok’s face fell.

“Idiot,” Sunghoon tsked.

Both fae clans had gathered by the main stage, intently listening to the same speeches that the clan leaders have spoken for centuries. You watched apathetically as the everlasting flame was being formally handed over. The crowd roared as the flame changed from a deep crimson red to an icy silver color with a blue hue, signifying that the solstice had come to pass.

If the festival wasn’t wild before, it had only gotten more out of hand after the official ceremony. Seeing the other fairies go wild in every sense of the word made you nauseous. The noise level intensified as you watched your fairy brethren engage in rather promiscuous activities. Someone even beckoned for you to join in the fun, but you just walked away. The only person you wanted to have that kind of fun with was Hoseok. It infuriated you that your thoughts always drifted to him. You filled up your cup one last time and walked away from the ruckus, towards an empty grove. Hopefully you would be able to wallow in self pity in peace there.

The stars twinkled above you, and dim moonlight speckled the ground around you as it shone through the trees. You could still hear the party, but it was much fainter now and served as nice background noise to keep you from drowning in your thoughts. With a deep exhale, you fought to hold back tears. You felt so foolish. Too many years have been wasted in vain for an unrequited love that you should have seen coming. It was so stupid of you to hold onto a sliver of hope that Hoseok would like you back.

“The party is that way,” a familiar voice called out to you.

“Then why aren’t you there?” you didn’t try to mask the annoyance in your voice.

“I saw you walk away, I wanted to check up on you.”

“Why the fuck would you even care?” you sat up and hissed.

“Why are you being so hostile? You’re the one who has been avoiding me all week!” Hoseok raised his voice.

“I’m sure you didn’t have much time to spend with me anyway,” you huffed.

“That’s not true. I spent every moment of my free time looking for you, only for you to turn me away. Can you tell me what’s wrong?” Hoseok calmed down.

“Fine. I’m in love with you, okay? How fucking embarrassing. It hurt when you said that I was your super best friend or whatever. Seeing you afterward just reminded me of how dumb I am,” you couldn’t make eye contact with him.

“Oh sunshine, I’m the idiot. I shouldn’t have said that. You’re my special friend because I like you too. I wanted to spend every second with you this week. I didn’t mean to hurt you like that, I’m so sorry ____,” Hoseok got down on his knees and pulled you in for a hug. You were stunned.

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner then!” you pushed him off.

“I thought it was obvious from the way we flirted!” he argued.

“You’re nice to everyone, it was hard for me to tell,” you pouted.

“My apologies for not being a sourpuss like you,” Hoseok laughed.

“So...what now? It wasn’t really a romantic confession but I guess our feelings are out in the open now,” you whispered as you leaned against him.

Suddenly, Hoseok pushed you back to the ground, straddling your hips. His dark hair nearly covered his eyes as he looked down at you. He was beyond beautiful, his white iridescent wings glittered ethereally in the moonlight.

“Remember when I said you’re like a dessert I can only have twice a year? I’d like to make that a reality,” Hobi smirked. He bent over to kiss you. It was soft at first, his plush lips pressing up against yours. He gently cupped your face with one hand while the other wandered to your chest, undoing your blouse. Lust overtook the both of you as the kiss deepened and Hoseok fondled your breasts. You let out a small gasp as he played with your nipples, rolling them between his fingers.

“Spread those legs for me, sunshine,” he demanded.

You complied, slowly exposing yourself to him. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him while in such a compromising position. Hoseok gingerly kissed a trail along your inner thighs towards your core. His hot breath against your pussy made you squirm under him in anticipation.

“So impatient,” he chuckled, “Let’s play a game. You have to make eye contact with me while I eat you out. Every time you look away, I stop.”

“You’re evil,” you huffed before reluctantly looking at the beautiful being perched between your legs.

“That’s my girl,” he purred approvingly before spreading your folds with his fingers. His eyes darkened with lust as you watched him lick tantalizingly slow stripes. He could feel your need for more, so he moved up to focus on your clit, giving it special attention as his tongue swirled around it.

You tangled your fingers into his hair, gripping him tighter as he licked your clit faster. All your composure was lost as you looked down at him with pleading eyes.

“What is it? Need more?” Hoseok teased as his fingers traced your entrance.

“Please,” you whimpered.

“Please what?” Hoseok feigned ignorance

“Please touch me,” you said softly.

“We need to work on your begging, but you’re so adorable I can’t say no,” Hobi dove back into stimulating your clit as he slipped a finger inside of you. He smirked at how easily he went in, and immediately added a second finger. The new feeling had you throwing your head back as he grazed your g-spot. Right as things began to feel good, he retracted everything.

“Hobi!” you cried out in frustration.

“You looked away. Remember the rules to our little game?” Hoseok chided. You glared down at him as he immediately picked up where he left off, not giving you time to readjust. Fighting back the urge to close your eyes, soft moans escaped from your lips.

“Ready to cum, my dear ___?” he asked sweetly as his fingers dipped to directly attack your g-spot.

There was no time to give a proper response. Your back arched and your toes curled up as your orgasm overwhelmed you. Drenched in your juices, Hoseok glistened under the moonlight.

“Absolutely gorgeous,” Hoseok praised, “But I’m not finished with you yet,” he leaned in to whisper in your ear.

He unbuckled his trousers, releasing the monster that dangled between his legs. You willingly spread your legs for him, eager for more.

“So needy, you haven’t had enough yet?” Hoseok tsked as he rubbed the tip of his cock along your folds.

Finally, Hoseok began to bury himself into you. He took his time, relishing how your warm walls squeezed him. You closed your eyes in ecstasy, focusing on feeling every inch of him. Once he bottomed out, you wrapped your legs around him in an attempt to bring him impossibly closer. The dark lust that swam in his eyes broke for a second, replaced by the warm smile that made you fall in love with him in the first place. He bent down to kiss you, and you happily reciprocated.

Hoseok moved his hips slowly as he fucked you at a deep yet gentle pace. Mouths still colliding, you shyly licked at his lips. Taking your hint, Hoseok’s tongue met yours. As the kisses deepened with more saliva being interchanged, Hoseok’s thrusts became harsher.

“You’re so fucking sexy. Lemme see that ass baby,” Hoseok growled as he flipped you over.

He smacked your ass twice and watched it jiggle in awe before placing a firm grip on your hips. Almost animalistically, he bucked into you. Your body jolted forward with each thrust. You had never been fucked this hard before, and it was heavenly. Hoseok’s control over his body movement was insane. Your moans grew louder as his hips continuously rolled into you.

One of Hoseok’s hands formed a tight grip on your hair, roughly bringing your head up off the ground. You couldn’t stop your wanton moans from filling the open air.

“H-Hoseok,” you cried out.

“What is it? Is it too much for you?” Hoseok cooed in your ear as he brought your head back even closer to him.

“Mmm-no,” was all you could make out.

“I knew you could take it all, such a good slut,” Hoseok praised as he let go of your hair.

Unable to hold yourself up, you immediately fell back onto your chest. Your fingernails dug into the dirt as you could feel another orgasm swelling up inside of you.

“I’m gonna cum again,” you wailed out.

“I’m almost there, wait for me baby,” Hoseok instructed.

With perfect timing, Hoseok let out a guttural moan as he spilled his seed inside of you. Sounds of pleasure bounced around the grove as you came in unison. Hoseok’s cum dripped down the sides of your inner thighs when he pulled out.

“How did I do, sunshine?” Hoseok asked jovially as you laid on the ground before him.

“You knocked me out. I don’t think I can move for a while,” you weakly answered with a smile.

“Not a problem, we can just stay here for a while, sunshine,” Hoseok laid down beside you, beckoning for you to rest atop his chest.

“I like when you call me that,” you yawned.

“Sunshine?” Hoseok asked.

“Yeah, that. It makes me feel special,” you nodded.

“Is that so? I’m glad it makes you feel special, because you are. You’ve always been the spunky night fairy that everyone knows but is too afraid to approach,” Hoseok laughed.

“What! I am totally friendly! Just not to those who piss me off,” you defended, “Which...I guess is a lot of people so I suppose I see your point. What made you want to be my friend if everyone thought I’m scary?”

“You treated me like everyone else. It always felt like people put on a fake facade around me since I’m the chief’s son. They’re nice to me to try and curry favor with my father, or maybe flirt with me to try and gain some special sort of status. I don’t know. I’m just me,” Hoseok shrugged.

“If it makes you feel any better, you’re my sunshine,” you hugged him.

“That makes me feel great. I’ll do my best to see you more than twice a year, okay?” he kissed your forehead.

“I guess I can clear my schedule and come over to visit you too,” you giggled, “Or maybe we can run away and make a clan of our own.”

“Are you serious?” he asked, “Don’t tempt me. I’d love to go somewhere where no one knows my name or expects anything from me.”

“How about we go to where the day meets the night?” you offered.

“Like what? An eclipse?” Hoseok said as he gazed into the night sky.

“Precisely. We can make an eclipse clan. We only have to do festivals for eclipses, and those are kinda rare,” you giggled.

“Sounds like a good dream, sunshine. Let’s seriously discuss it in the morning when we’re both more sober,” Hoseok kissed your forehead.

“Goodnight, my sunshine,” you whispered into his chest.

#bts smut #jhope smut #hoseok smut #bangtanarmynet #btscreatorscorner #ksmutclub #btswritingcafe #bts fanfic #jhope fanfic #hoseok fanfic

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doubledgesword-2 · 3 years

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Expectations

This is a request from someone on wattpad! It was before the announcement so I will reiterate it since this has to do with it: Due to some personal reasons I will not be doing extra mega super ultra explicitly detailed smut. Smut will happen but it will be more implied than anything and there will be no more character x character fics. I will focus more on one character x readers. I apologize if these teas are not everyone’s cup, I understand, but I’m doing it for me and I will still deliver amazing teas no matter what flavor they are!

No warnings! Soulmate au enjoy!

To say you were nervous was an understatement; you were almost sweating bullets.

"We're going to my parents, as my soulmate and wife, you have to meet their approval," Illumi told you one day in the middle of training.

You stopped mid-punch and got a swift and powerful kick to your stomach, making you fall backward a couple of feet away. Illumi was in front of you in a second, questioning why you left yourself open right when you were about to attack.

But there was no answer, except your pants and heavy breathing.

Illumi raised a fine eyebrow, letting out a breath as he picked you up in his arms, coming inside to the cottage for a nice bath. After all, you had to be presentable and at your best to meet your future in-laws.

He set up the warm water while you were undressing. You let out a groan when taking off your shirt; the huge purple and already forming bruise on your stomach hurt quite a lot. Illumi turned once the water was warm, and all the soaps were mixed with it. His unwavering and monotonous eyes scanned your body. You have become stronger under their tutelage, but that didn't take away your pain resistance. Your overall physique had improved monumentally, but your body was scarred and bruised from training. He didn't mind in his eyes you were perfect, and he knew in his mates' eyes you were gorgeous. The corners of his lips quirked up in a gentle yet small smile as he looked at you. You didn't notice though, you were too busy trying to rub on your stomach.

When Illumi noticed your actions, he knew it wouldn't be long before he tried to take you to bed. Just imagining you rubbing your growing belly with his child inside sends chills down his spine. But now was not the time. He needed to get you ready.

You didn't notice when Illumi was standing right in front of you; you were looking down at your ugly bruise. That's when Illumi took your hand in his, making you look up. His was expressionless as always, but in his eyes, you could see the amount of tenderness and desire he felt towards you.

He guided you to the bathtub letting you sink under the warm water. It was oddly relaxing. The nice smell of lavender, mixed with the water's perfect temperature, not too warm to boil but not too lukewarm to disappoint. You let out a sigh, eyes close and leaning back against the porcelain. It was cold, but you didn't gasp at that; you gasped at the lingering kiss Illumi placed on your head.

"You have nothing to worry about, my love. I'll be with you" he gently whispered like a secret lover, his hands scrubbing your arms with care.

Another kiss to your neck as he washed your chest.

"No harm will come to you as long as you do as I say. They will never lay a hand on family."

Illumi grabbed your face in his hands, and that made you open his eyes to look into his ever swirling ones. He kissed your forehead.

"Finish here. I will prepare your clothes, and then we leave."

And that's how you find yourself here, in between Hisoka and Chrollo looking at Illumi. The limousine was nice, but the luxury and the entirety of the situation were so overwhelming you couldn't focus on the finer details. That's why you didn't notice Hisoka's hand on your thigh rubbing circles on it.

"Hisoka" Illumi's voice sounded annoyed for once, and Chrollo lightly slapping Hisoka's hand away woke you from your anxiety.

Hisoka shrugged his shoulders, giving Illumi a playful look, eyes closed, and a close lip smile.

"Whatever did I do?~"

"Hisoka, don't play games now. Our little darling is frightened enough."

Chrollo opens his hand, laying it palm up and offering it to you. You took it and clench it hard while this thumb rubbed your knuckles.

"That's what makes it fun; she's too tense. Wouldn't it be better if I loosen her up?~" he asked Chrollo, tilting a bit forwards with his finger on his lips as if questioning things.

"No. Now sit back. We're almost to the mountain. If you behave, I'll reward you."

"Mmmm," Hisoka licked his lips. "Oh goodness~."

Once Illumi opened the huge stone doors, which left you aghast, the four of you walked inside, getting into another car. This one was less spacious, but it was still luxurious. But none of that mattered. Every ride and minute that passed brought you closer to them. Dread settled in your stomach like a boulder, pressing down on your stomach. Chrollo never let go of your hand as you all came to the mansion.

There was no time to think, no way out, and no matter how much you wanted to run in your (color of choice) lolita dress, you doubted you would even make it far inside that dense forest. Not to mention the huge wolf you saw stalking the SUV as you all made your way to the mansion.

Your breathing hitched when the butler opened the door, and Chrollo exited, holding your hand to help you out. Hisoka placed his hand on your shoulder once he was out.

"Don't worry, little fruit, you'll be fine," he whispered.

Illumi came behind you, putting both of his hands on your shoulders. You thought it was out of comfort, but he merely straightened you and rubbed the wrinkles away. Your hand clenched Chrollo's, who chuckled and let go. They all thought you looked adorable, being stressed and nervous when in reality, you seemed as stiff as a cat who just got dumped in the water.

As you were contemplating everything, you noticed the old man standing in front of the enormous house. He had an amused look on his face, and his whole demeanor screamed he was more powerful. That just made it worse.

Illumi pushed you forwards, and the four of you walked towards his grandfather.

"Afternoon, gentlemen, miss," you gave him a small nod/ curtsy; your nervousness was blatantly obvious, and it amused him greatly.

"Silva is expecting you," he stated and opened the door with all of you right behind him.

At the mention of Illumi's father, you thought you would die.

After a series of turns through different hallways, you arrived at a nice garden area. There was no denying the place was stunningly gorgeous and breathtaking. The pond with the fish, the nicely cut grass, the different flowers with all the colors you can imagine, and even the cement wall covered in a blanket of vines added a touch to the paradise-like place. You let out a breathtaking everything in and didn't even notice the small smile gracing your lips; the trio did.

"Illumi," an authoritative voice pierced your bubble, and it reminded you why you were here. "We're glad you could make it; your mother and I are anxious to meet your soulmate."

Your breath hitched as Illumi approached his father and left you in between Chrollo and Hisoka. His father was so tall, much taller, and stronger looking, and you thought he would disintegrate you the moment he looked at you.

"Illumi!" A shrill voice called, and this time you turned to look at a woman approaching quickly. The way she was dressed made you think you were all in a Jane Eyre novel, now your clothing choice made sense. She came to her husband with practiced grace.

"My dear beloved son! Illumi, mother had missed you deeply. Ever since most of my children have left me alone, it has been dreadful. Oh, why must everyone leave!"

You raised an eyebrow at her. 'What the heck,' that's when she turned to look at you as if you had called her.

"Who is that, and what are those criminals doing in my house?"

Both of your eyebrows were raised as she approached you, and her aura didn't give you good intentions.

"Mother, they're my soulmates. All three of them."

Silva's eyes widened for a split second before his lips turned up in a greeting smile. He knew who Chrollo and Hisoka were. He had fought the first one and had seen the second one lingering about his son. But you, he didn't recognize, and that intrigued him as well as annoyed him.

"Why all three of them?! This is unacceptable, not at all respectable. What would everyone think about the Zoldyck family when they hear our son has three soulmates!"

"Kikio, that's enough," Silva's authoritative voice resounded, and Illumi's mother stopped dead on her words. "Outside these walls, they're whatever they may be, but here they're Illumi's mates as well as our guests. So behave accordingly."

"Yes, darling," her honeysuckle voice came back as if nothing had happened, and she grabbed your hand, leading you to a nearby table already set with tea and pastries.

"Have the butlers arrange another pair of chairs and refreshments for our guests."

"That would not be necessary, sir. If you excuse us. We will be fine in the lounge, after all, we have met before, and our darling is the one you don't know. It will be better if you four converse." As refined as always, Chrollo replied, making Hisoka pout. He dragged the jester away, who follow a butler inside the house.

Alone amongst strangers. That's how you felt; even though you knew Illumi and have been with him for almost a year now, it still felt weird.

"So dear, what's your name?"

"(Y/n-n), sir."

Silva chuckled at your nervousness "there's no need for you to be nervous. After all, we're family."

You nodded. Illumi grabbed your hand under the table, and you felt a bit relieved.

"Dear, I must say your dress is quite lovely. At least my dear llumi's mate knows how to dress," Kikio chuckled afterward, "do let me take you out to my best tailors. You simply must have a dress made by each of them."

"That would be lovely, ma'am" you sipped a bit of the tea even if you felt you couldn't stomach anything at the moment.

"I'm sure you will look beautiful for our dear son. So tell me (Y/N), Why is there no information about you anywhere?" Ahh, here come the important questions.

"Oh, I understood my soulmates' jobs and didn't want to intrude in their lives. After all, anyone could've used me to get to them. So I simply disappeared from the system."

"Interesting"

"Well, now we know. If anything were to happen to you, no one would know," Kikio giggled gracefully after that statement, and even if she meant it as an apparent joke, you were terrified.

"When are you going to marry? You certainly must be married to ensure the Zoldyck legacy carries on. What about children? Silva and I are very excited to have grandchildren, now that you can actually have them."

"Kikio, you're going to overwhelm her" you were already on the verge of hyperventilating.

"We will marry very soon, and we will carry on with the Zoldyck legacy, mother. You have nothing to worry about."

"Lovely"

After that particular conversation, you felt faint. Children? Marry? What? Once the conversation ended, and you were approved by the parents, all four of you were lounging around. The parents had given you an entire wing of the mansion during your stay. Chrollo and Hisoka had their own rooms since Kikio was aghast at fate. You and Illumi shared a room as fiancé's should. While you were breathing normally for once today, Illumi was putting away some of his clothes he had brought from his room.

"Now, what?"

"We get married, of course."

"But Illumi I-I don't exist, there's-"as you turned, Illumi was in front of you. You gasped and looked up into his eyes. He grabbed your face.

"We will marry, all of us, accordingly, and when we do, we will continue the Zoldyck legacy as it's expected from us..." he kissed you tenderly. Still, you felt the underlying fierceness and possessiveness.

"Without complaint, hmm?"

"Without complaint," you mumbled back as he hugged you close.

Thanks you! Request might lag a bit since these two coming weeks I’m gonna have a lot of school work! But don’t despair!

Remember this is the last adult trio together in a relationship fic I will make due to personal reasons.

#chrollo x reader #chrollo x y/n #chrollo x you #fanfic #hisoka #hisoka fanfiction #hisoka x reader #hunter x 2011 #hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter fanfic #hunter x hunter 2011 #illumi hunter x hunter #illumi x y/n #illumi x you #illumi x reader #x reader

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nillegible · 3 years

Text

(Part 4 of Stay, the MY time travel fic. Read Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 )

So much that Meng Yao has seen in his second life has been disturbingly accurate to the memories that he still has of his former life, but the brothel is different. It feels much smaller than it did to a child who grew up there. Appears more garish than he’d seen from afar, after ordering the place to be burned down. Or perhaps these decorations are so like the gilded decor Koi tower that he hadn’t noticed, back then.

Meng Yao walks inside now, for the first time since he fled after mother’s death, dressed in simple gray robes of good make, sword and tassel marking him as a cultivator. His hair is deliberately done up plainly, as different from his mother’s as he can manage it. He does not wish to be recognized here, as her son.

“Please, please stop,” someone is crying out, and a tall, well-built young man – not a cultivator though – is dragging a woman outside by the hair. As Meng Yao steps aside to make way, he recognizes her. Anxin. It’s a new way to remember her face, twisted in fear and desperation, instead of in cruel, mocking laughter.

He lets them pass, and walks into the establishment. Two young girls, maybe sixteen, direct him to a table in the main hall and prepare tea. He responds to their flirtation politely; they’re just doing their jobs, after all; and waits for the Madame to be free.

I bet Father, never had to wait, thinks Meng Yao, but it’s an idle thought. Even his mother had not wanted Meng Yao to be like him, only to gain his favour and the prestige that entailed.

For all that he’s a cultivator now, one of considerable renown even if it does not match that of a Sect Leader or heir of a major sect. He waits patiently for the madame’s attention.

The young women at his sides stiffen into perfect posture, alerting him to the imminent arrival of their boss. “How can I help the honoured young master?” the well dressed, elegant woman asks finally, coming over to sit gracefully at his table.

“This one greets Madame,” says Meng Yao simply. “I am merely here to observe, and perhaps make a purchase.” She’s so practiced that her reaction is nearly entirely subdued, only traces of her glee at finding a customer to buy one of her girls’ contract are visible. Meng Yao pretends not to notice, just smiles, serenely.

“The Young Master is seeking a wife, then? My girls are each very accomplished, and I’m sure he will find one eminently suitable to his tastes.”

Meng Yao just nods, as if disinterested. “If madame would show me the suitable candidates…” then hesitates, carefully. “I am not seeking a wife. My Uncle’s wife has taken ill, and I hoped that if I found him a suitable concubine, there would be less disharmony in my household. I am unmarried, and finding good servants is difficult enough without him scaring the help away with his ways.” He scrunches his nose in faint distaste, and watches the calculation in her eyes.

“This one understands, the Young Master will not be looking for their skills in managing a household, then. There are women to match this criterion as well. Some of my girls are great beauties and will certainly captivate any man.”

“He can find beauties on his own coin,” Meng Yao huffs. “As long as she can perform her duties, who cares what she looks like? Will Madame show me the women? I will decide when I see them.” With such crude, miserly words, Meng Yao has saved himself having to browse through most of the women here, as well as much of the haggling. The Madame would not dare to inflate her prices above that of the prostitute’s contract, for fear he’d leave and just bribe one of his female servants to quietly accept the abuse.

Sure enough, after Meng Yao is settled in a private room, the women suggested to him are significantly older than the young ones entertaining downstairs. The madame excuses herself; there’s nothing much for her to do here, but leaves two clerks to explain the costs of each contract.

Meng Yao reads through them dispassionately, even setting aside Sisi’s contract when he sees it the first time, though in the ‘look again,’ pile, not the ‘too expensive’ one. Finally, he narrows it down to three, and the women are requested to attend them, in the small parlor.

Meng Yao keeps his face averted when Sisi approaches. There’s a sharp inhale when she sees him, and he looks up to catch her eye and quickly shakes his head, asking her to not give it away. Seeming to understand, she falls into place beside her two sisters, and allows Meng Yao to… consider his options. He picks Sisi as if on a whim, and then finalizes the purchase.

“Meng Yao?” she asks, when they’re left alone, shortly after. There is paperwork to be completed, and they’re brought tea while they wait.

“Aunt Sisi,” Meng Yao says softly. “It is good to see you again.”

“I didn’t expect… do you really have an uncle in need of a concubine?”

“Jin Guangshan has three brothers,” he answers. “But as I have not acknowledged him as my father, I do not have uncles.”

“I see,” she says. That sharp gaze means, go on. Means, what do you want of me, and it is too suspicious, too disturbing to wait until they leave the brothel to explain.

“I would have bought Mother out, if I could. I dreamed of the day. But she died and… Aunt Sisi has ever been kind to her. You were her greatest comfort, in her final days.”

“Meng Shi was a good woman,” she says shortly. There’s no softness to the words.

“I remembered that Aunt Sisi was an excellent seamstress. There is a shop well known to me, in Yunmeng, and the proprietor is willing to take on a skilled helper. The money is a loan from my Sect Leader, but it will be paid back over a year from my allowance. Aunt Sisi may pay me back over a longer time, we can work out the specifics of that loan, after you’ve settled your living at the shop.”

Sisi is quiet for a long time. “There is a merchant,” she says, “Who offered to marry me.”

“The one with the jealous wife?” he asks. “Does Aunt Sisi believe her life would be peaceful, in her household?” Not that she would even get a chance to live there, but there’s no way that Aunt Sisi could know that.

She doesn’t say anything else, nor does he, while they finish their tea, and eat the snacks laid out. Unlooked for good fortune, at the whims of those more powerful than him had never made Meng Yao feel grateful. He’s not going to expect it in someone else.

“I suppose I should thank you,” she says, only after they’ve left the establishment. He’s leading her towards the docks, to rent a boat to Yunmeng. He has all of her luggage sealed away in a qiankun pouch, though her money is in a purse clutched tightly in her hands.

“Aunt Sisi does not have to,” he says. “This one did not consult you, before choosing this for you. I apologize, for that.”

“Don’t bother apologizing,” she says. “It’s just a lot, without a moment’s notice. But I am grateful.”

“You’ll like Madam Yan, the tailor,” says Meng Yao. “She’s kind.” Of course, Meng Yao can practically see her disbelief; of course the tailor was kind to Meng Yao, a paying customer! What would she be like to an underling, and one with an unpleasant background? But Meng Yao knew more of Madam Yan than just the previous day’s meeting with her, when he’d talked to her and asked her if she needed the help of a talented seamstress who needed somewhere to go. Meng Yao’s skilful enquiries and opinions on the robes that he was having commissioned definitely helped support his argument that he knew what he was talking about, and that if he said someone was skilled they must be, but Meng Yao also knew a little of Madam Yan’s history because her daughter would one day be a Jiang disciple, and Jin Ling would be fond of the Shijie with the lovely robes.

He’s certain that he’s making the right choice, to leave Sisi with her instead of at the brothel, where she’d only face injury, scarring, and heartache.

(And then turn desperate enough to be hired for the most suspect of jobs, of being used in a murder plot, and then locked away for years. Meng Yao had been careful to give her a comfortable life, but he doubts that it was any happier than the lives of the koi in his ponds. He owes her this, even if she does not know why.)

The awkward air between them doesn’t clear, even as they hire a boat to take them the half hour upstream to Yunmeng, nor while they stop at an inn for lunch. He asks her if she’d like to rent a room to freshen up in before she meets her future employer, and she agrees. Meng Yao waits downstairs after paying for the room, returning Sisi’s luggage to her.

While he waits, he wanders between the shops nearby. He doesn’t have much money to spend on frivolities, he’s carefully planned out his finances for the next year to allow him to repay the borrowed sum as soon as possible, but browsing has always been fun. His eyes catch on a hat, scholarly, a bit shorter than Meng Yao’s own preference, and he stares for a moment.

So much ribbing in his previous life, for his height, for his name, for how he was more of an administrator than a son to Jin Guangshan, even during all those years where he was the only acknowledged heir. ‘I’m doing it all for you, Mother,’ he’d told himself, through all of it. Setting his signature hat on his head every morning, like a piece of armor. That everything he did was for his mother… and yet he’d killed so many people in her name.

People like her.

Meng Yao remembers the burning fury of hating being called a whore’s son, of people washing their hands when they touched him, like he was tainted, like the filth was on him instead of their sick, twisted minds. Of being refused a chance to carry his own nephew, shooed away and made to stand apart from the golden heir of Lanling.

My mother is not like those whores, he’d thought to himself, she’s nothing like those filth, and never regretted or repented for his choices until he saw Sisi’s scarred, terrified face among the women he’d ordered to be killed.

The frightened, sobbing women who had been used to kill his own father.

Meng Yao thinks of Anxin’s terrified face as she was dragged out of the brothel this morning. He has no idea what it was about. He doesn’t think it matters. Perhaps they truly would all be better off dying in a cleansing fire than living their sad miserable lives, as he’d reasoned to himself before. That they were deserving of such a death, for how they treated Meng Shi.

All of that… any of that, was easier than the truth.

My mother was a prostitute, and I was ashamed.

Nothing, no temple, no prayers, no statues of guanyin with his mother’s face could ever erase his crimes.

“Meng Yao?” asks a hesitant voice, and he turns around to smile at Sisi. She’s wearing the same subdued outfit she’d worn to leave the brothel, but she’s washed away the sweat from travelling over water on a hot day, and her hair has been redone. She looks like any other woman in the marketplace, though the loveliness of her face is still admirable.

“The shop is not far,” he tells her. “Shall we go?”

[Read part 5 here!]

#meng yao #jgy time travel verse #sisi #meng yao thinking about his mistakes #and growing

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hufflesmonsters · 3 years

Text

New Beginnings

A/N: hi, just dropping in to say I’m writing again >:D enjoy this slow burn. Also, surprise, it’s not a lizard man story though I do have one in the works so there is that.

~*~*~*~

Torren swung the ax down, splitting the log in two. Sweat beaded his brow as the sun bore down on him. He stuck the ax down in the wood stump and stood, wiping away the sweat with the back of his hand as he looked up at the sky. Just past noon, he’d have to get a move on if he was going to be on time for the kings summon. If he even wanted to take the job, whatever it was. If King Richard the second wished to hire a mercenary, it surely couldn’t be for anything fun. He clearly didn’t want to waste his own men for this, which meant that Torren was likely going to die during his job.

And yet… the money he would get if he lived. He could retire, and finally live his dream of being the towns hermit to its fullest potential. As in, he only ever comes into town on stormy nights to buy ten kegs of ale and disappear for another three months. He grew his own food, hunted his own meat. Of course he kept messing up his tomato plants which meant he had to go into town to get those, but once he can figure it out then mission Hermit was a go.

Stepping back, he grabbed the shirt he had draped over a nearby branch and walked towards his home. It was a nice little shack, one he’d built from scratch back when he was just a young boy. He had found the location by accident really, one minute he was being chased by his elder brothers, the next he was standing in a clearing with a pond and no one in sight for miles. At first it was just a cool hideout, somewhere he could go to get away from his crazy family and village bullies. But over the years he spent more and more time here, fixing it up and expanding the facilities. Next thing he knew he had completely moved in and claimed the land officially as his.

Tossing the shirt on the couch, he walked into his bedroom and opened his dresser. He wasn’t sure what he’d need really, if this was a quick trip, and he hoped it was, he’d only really need two shirts, pants and his washing supplies. He already had his armor on, his swords were already by the door, polished and ready to go. He grabbed the shirts, extra pants, and his bag of supplies and stuffed them into a bag that he could tack onto his horses saddle. He’d grab a small coin purse for food and drink, which should cover him for his trip if he was careful. If he ran out of coin he’d only have to offer to chop wood for inns or something like that.

As he turned to leave, bag in hand, he stopped by the kitchen and grabbed the oat bag for Sweetie. Most of the time she was content to just chew on grass, or even break into gardens and devour everything in sight. But oats, how she loved oats.

The sun glared at him as he exited the house, he stopped briefly to lock it up before continuing down the path to the pasture. He could already see the giant grazing peacefully, black tail flicking away bugs as her dappled gray coat shone silver in the sunlight. She was truly a magnificent horse, holding a presence without even trying. She was a draft horse, one of the few capable of holding a full grown orc. And she was an absolute sweetie, hence, her name.

“Got something for you, Sweetie,” Torren called as he entered the stall part of the pasture, grinning as her large head shot up, ears pointed forward and nostrils flaring. She smelled the oats like sharks smell blood in the water. With a graceful trot, she soon stood in front of him, towering over him by two feet. She bent down and nuzzled his cheek lovingly, snorting into his ear as he tried to shove her away. “We don’t have time to cuddle, girl. The King wants us at the castle by midday tomorrow.”

Sweetie snorted and stood upright again, flank twitching as she moved past him and into the tacking area. She was smart, smarter than most horses he’d met. She waited patiently as he began to saddle her, taking his time to secure the bag and oats in a place where she couldn’t get to it. She was tricksy, especially when it came to oats. But she also knew that those were a night time snack, something that he wouldn’t just give out unless they narrowly avoided death and allowed her to have something to chew on while he fought off a panic attack.

He slid the reins over her head, patting her cheek as she opened her mouth to allow the rod to go in. Once she was fully outfitted, he lead her out of the stalls and closed the doors behind her. He swung up onto her back, and settled in. Gathering the reins, he clicked his tongue and set off down the dirt path that lead into town. The castle wasn’t too far, if he traveled nonstop today he’d be able to make it before midday tomorrow. Talk to the king, get the job done, and they’d be home before they knew it.

~*~*~*~

Reaching the castle, Torren almost turned back around. He’d heard the rumors, how King Richard the second seemed to… overcompensate. The walls around the kingdom were large, but not as large as the damn castle. It towered over everything, almost as if it was a direct challenge to the gods. It was also very, very ugly with its pale brown coloring and lack of windows.

Showing his summons slip to the guards at the gate, he slowly made his way into the kingdom. It was another thing that irked him about King Richard, he was a man with “purist” beliefs. No race other than human was allowed past the walls without a proper invite. There was no trading, or apprenticeship allowed between humans and others. Which raised another red flag about this job offer, why would a king who hates his kind specifically ask him to complete a task for him.

Torren tightened his fist on the reins as he watched the crowd wearily. He was going to die, either here or on this job if he wasn’t careful enough. The townsfolk weren’t bad, they looked more open to him than the guards did, but he didn’t dare interact with them. Not even to the young children who waved at him for the guards were watching him just as closely as he was watching them.

Reaching the palace, he climbed off of Sweetie’s back and handed the reins over to the stable boy, a warning look in his eyes. If they mistreated her, he would rip all of their spines from their backs and beat them to death with it. Torren turned to look at the guards that approached him, back stiff as he towered over them. It was almost laughable, how they escorted him into the palace.

The inside of the castle was just as ugly as the outside, the same beige walls, no decorations whatsoever. Whoever helped the king design this deserved to be publicly executed. Knights stood at every corner, some seemed to be standing at random places the further they got in. It was almost as if someone had just told them to pick a window and stand. The guards increased as they drew closer to the throne room, all of them standing at attention as they stopped in the middle. The guards beside him stood at attention, hands over heart and back straight.

One of the guards announced the arrival of the king, everyone else following in salute. Torren looked up in expectation for the infamous King Richard the Second. Looking, looking, out of confusion, his gaze drew down to the floor when an irritated cough sounded.

Oh, oh gods…

Torren had to physically bite his tongue as he took in the sight of King Richard the second. No wonder the castle was so large and hideous, this man barely stood past a humans waist. He recalled an old nickname for the king, one that was immediately outlawed in the towns surrounding his kingdom. Little Dick Jr, the bane of all of Pufort.

Torren knelt in front of the tiny king before any more offense could be given. And he had a lot to give at this moment in time. “Your grace,” he said stiffly.

“Rise,” came the nasally response. “Do you know why I've called you here, orc?” Dick Jr asked once Torren towered over him again.

“No, m'lord.”

“I am a king without a queen, I'm basically a laughing stock in all the kingdoms!” Torren was willing to put money on it, that wasn't the reason why, but he knew better than to say that. “But there's a princess, locked away in a tower due east. And she will be my bride.”

“And you wish me to retrieve her?” Torren asked for clarification. That didn't sound so hard at all.

“Yes, it's a week’s journey all together, the roads are treacherous, but I'm sure you're no stranger to that,” again, nothing dangerous. “And then of course there's the active volcano and lava surrounding the castle and the dragon guarding it.” Ah, there it is.

“I see, that doesn't sound too difficult for me,” Torren said, lying through his teeth. He could handle bandits, he could even sneak past a fucking dragon. But lava? An active volcano? That was something he'd never experienced before and wasn't too keen on the idea.

“Perfect, we will discuss your payment when you get back. Godspeed, I wish to be married by the end of the month!” Little Dick Jr clapped his hands twice, alerting the guards that he was done talking to the half orc.

Torren bowed his head and turned to make his leave. If he walked fast enough, he could get out of this city by the time the king reached the stairs. The guards had attempted to follow him out, but after they had to literally run to keep up they quit. It wasn't like he was going to do anything anyways.

He eyed the gods awful bust of Dick jr. and contemplated tripping into it…

No, no. Not yet.

~*~*~*~

If there were small miracles, Torren may have found one. Sweetie was in perfect condition when he had retrieved her, granted she had been touched by the stable hands and she made sure to voice her displeasure by biting his shirt and nearly throwing him into a mud pile. Sweetie was a sweetheart up until she had the wrath of the gods placed upon her.

They had made their way out of the kingdom as fast as they could, and Torren was grateful that the guards didn’t give him an official escort out of the kingdom. Though, he had noticed several guards watching him carefully if he lingered too long in an area. Sure, there was traffic, but he was an orc, that was an unforgivable crime don’t you know? He half expected to get harassed when he passed by the front gate guards, but he was uncomfortably surprised to find that they did not.

Oh, he was going to die on this mission. He should have gotten his affairs in order, who was going to take after Sweetie when he was gone? His brothers were half a kingdom away and his neighbors didn’t know he existed. Now, he was realizing as he traversed the hills, it was a bad time to be a hermit. Sweetie was smart though, maybe she’d find a new hermit to adopt and go about her life.

Okay, maybe he should focus on traveling and not his soon to be untimely demise.

Torren had just crested the hill overlooking the neighboring village when a shout came from his right. Looking over, he was wary to see an elf making his way over on his own sturdy steed. The elf seemed friendly enough, though most elves he met rarely stayed friendly. He paused and waited for the elf to approach, keeping a hand on his dagger just in case.

The elf wasn’t bad looking, kind of handsome really if Torren was being honest with himself. Tall, a bit taller than most of the elves he met, golden skin that would make King Midas jealous. Long brown hair braided back in practicality rather than aesthetic, though it was a tad too ornate for pure practicality. He was dressed in simple leathers, with elven embroidery up around the shoulders, partially obscured by the cloak he wore.

“Hail, friend! I see you came from Pufort, a fine accomplishment for those of us considered too “unpure”,” the elf gave a laugh as he settled beside Sweetie. “Gavril, merc for hire,” he introduced himself as he put his hand out.

“Torren,” Torren said as he took the hand and shook it once. A mutual respect was given to the elf, some mercs stuck together, especially those around Pufort. The land wasn’t known for tolerance, mostly the guards fault, and so it wasn’t common to see many mercs who weren’t human. “What brings you to Pufort?”

“Ah, but the king, of course!” Gavril gave the man a bright smile before his smile dropped. “Better to talk here than in the village. Less ears.”

Torren felt his heart drop at the comment, dear gods was this the end? He hadn’t even made it out of Pufort yet! Gods, the amount of fun his brothers would have when they find out that he died in Pufort of all places…

“I can see you’re freaking out, fear not, I am not going to say “long live Dickie”,” Gavril let out a laugh, and Torren didn’t appreciate it, like, at all. “He hired me a month back, and when I disappeared he chose to hire you.”

“And I should believe you, why?” Torren actually did believe him, it was just the dick move that Dickie would pull. But he was a distrustful man by nature, and so grilling the elf it was.

“Why would I lie? Being here in of itself is a death sentence for me if one of his guards spots me,” Gavril shrugged. “No, I felt as if the job was far too… strange for me to complete without the full story.”

“And that story was?” Torren raised a brow as he shifted on Sweetie, who snorted in warning as she grazed.

“The princess, she’s apparently the daughter of the neighboring kingdom, Aster. I did my research and went to them with the information on Richard. They don’t like the idea of an unsavory man such as him “rescuing” their daughter in such an unhonorable way,” Gavril leaned a bit as his voice dropped. “I was riding by, coming back from another business that I had to attend, when I happened to have heard he had another summons, I thought it was only fair to let you know about it all.”

“And what, exactly, are you hoping to inform me of other than the princesses misfortunes?” Torren leaned slightly in despite himself.

“I’m to meet another fellow, a minotaur by the name of Jardor. He was the princess's guard before she was imprisoned so she’d be more trusting of us. Her parents hired me to take her Aster instead of Pufort, and their offer is extended to any other mercenary hired by Richard.”

“And this is legitimate? How do you know they won’t cast you off to Richards' wrath once they have their daughter?”

Gavril nodded as he sat upright. “A fair question, I, myself, found myself doubting it. However, I asked around their former employers and found that they were actually credible. I understand that you have no reason to believe me, but if you are curious you are more than welcome to come with me to meet up with Jardor.”

“And where is he?” Surely a minotaur would be noticeable around a place like Pufort.

“He was smart enough not to come to the welcoming land of Pufort,” Gavril said with a grin. “He’s in Halder’s Rest in the neighboring village, Stonewall, I believe.”

“And you just happened to be riding by Pufort and saw me?” Torren raised a brow as he leaned back.

Gavril let out a soft laugh. “Fair enough, I might have been lingering around to see what the little man’s reaction would have been.”

“How? You couldn’t have been allowed in the city.”

“It’s actually fairly easy to sneak in if you find the really dumb guards,” Gavril said with a smirk. “If you talk fast and use big words to explain away things, they simply just let you in.”

Torren shook his head, “very well. I’ll come with you to this Jardor, but I make no promises that I will join you.”

“Of course,” Gavril gave a bow to his head. “Now, what do you think are the odds that these kind folk will allow us to rest in their undoubtedly comfortable inn?”

“‘Us’?” Torren looked at the elf with furrowed brows. Surely he didn’t think they were going to travel to Halder’s Rest together, did he?

“Yes, ‘us’,” Gavril said with a raised brow. “Surely you didn’t think I’d just abandon you to these unwashed masses, did you?”

“Yes?” Torren wasn’t sure who he pissed off up there, but he was fairly sure he didn’t deserve this kind of forced upon companionship here.

“Oh, my friend,” Gavril gave a sympathetic pout before clapping Torren on the shoulder. “You’re stuck with me.”

Gods help him.

~*~*~*~

Turns out, the good folk were not willing to rent out their plentiful rooms to two distinguished gentlemen like them. So, seeing as the guards started gathering around them once they exited, the duo had opted to camp out on the spacious planes outside of the village. Pro: it was a nice night out with the stars shining bright; con: there were wolves and they very much were eyeing them as a snack.

Luckily for them, the wolves found a rather unfortunate deer and left them alone for the rest of the night. After that, the sleeping got easier, though Torren still kept a hand on his dagger under his pillow. And if he noticed that Gavril did the same with his staff, well, he wasn’t going to be one to talk.

The morning was a tense affair, Gavril had cooked and while it smelt delicious Torren wasn’t one for accepting food from strangers. But his mother also raised a gentleman with manners so he ate anyway. And it pissed him off more that it was, indeed, delicious in all honesty.

They set off not long afterwards, mounting their steeds and making their way to Stonewall, a village that was a good two hours away. Both Sweetie and Torren did their best to ride ahead of Gavril and his steed, Farren, however the two seemed to be professionals Thorn in his Side, for they stayed right on his heels, humming a stupid little song.

Torren really pissed off some of the gods.

But, by the Grace of the gods, they finally made it to Halder's Rest with minimal spats. Or, "character building" in Gavril's mind. The vast difference between Aster's civilians and Pufort's was easily spotted. Where an inhuman was hard to see even just passing through in Pufort, it was hard to not see them in Aster. From vendors, to guards, to just a milk maiden lizard girl.

It felt… welcoming.

"Halder's Rest is just down the road,'' Gavril said as he led Farren though the bustling roads.

Torren let him take the reins, not sure if he should run or not. He had no idea really what sort of situation he was walking into. One kingdom was going to be pissed off, that was for sure. Either Pufort or Aster, and he wasn’t sure which one was better. Aster wasn’t known for its military, sure it had it, but no one had seen it in action in well over a hundred years. They preferred to stay diplomatic in negotiations, and somehow it’s worked so far. And yet, he feared what Aster would do if King Richard the Seconded got his grubby little hands on their daughter.

But another part feared what the King would do to him if he failed to deliver the princess. He wasn’t the first mercenary, and even Gavril admitted he was cheating death when he hung around Pufort waiting for Torren to leave. Pufort was well known for their military power. King Richard was always willing to fling a fleet at a neighboring kingdom, or hell, even his own people, if he felt there was even a hint of offense at him and his legitimacy of his rule.

He should run, Torren realized. Like now, right now-

“Hey, there he is!” Gavril said as he pointed at the minotaur guard that stood outside the inn with his arms crossed. “Jardor!”

Jardor looked up with irritation on his face. He was big, even for a minotaur and just as uniquely colored. Most minotaurs that Torren had come across were either brown or black with white colorations. But Jardor was a multi-colored minotaur, white based but he had russet, black, brown and gray mottled on the skin that was exposed through his armor. His horns were wide and angled high, making him more imposing.

“Stop calling attention to us,” the guard hissed as they drew closer. “You could jeopardize the mission.”

“Oh, please,” Gavril rolled his eyes. “There’s only milkmaids here, it’s not that dangerous.”

“The king could find out and send his fleet,” Torren hissed at the elf.

“Exactly,” Jardor snorted as he shifted his stance. “Our success depends heavily on stealth. Until we deliver the princess back to the capital of Aster, we are not out of the weeds yet.”

Gavril sighed heavily but nodded. “So, are we heading out or is there other business we need to attend to first here?”

“We’ll head out, most of the pleasantries can be exchanged on the road,” Jardor said as he led them to the guards stables and pulled his draft horse out of the stall. As he mounted, Torren surveyed the town. It was a nice place to be, he supposed. But he still preferred his privacy.

“I don’t believe we met,” Jardor said to him as they set out. “I’m the Princesses’ guard, Jardor Stoneskin. And you?”

“Torren Azorrn,” Torren said finally. “Just got hired from the King-”

“-and poached from me once he left,” Gavril interjected with a cheerful grin.

“Yes,” Torren agreed with a heavy sighed.

Jardor snorted and shook his head. “Of course,” he sighed. “I apologize for him, he was supposed to go home and then make his way back here. Though I am glad he did make the detour, I doubt I would have survived the trip with just the two of us.”

Torren found himself smiling as Gavril let out a gasp of mock hurt. “It is nice to have a more level headed company,” he agreed as Gavril mumbled to himself as the two men snickered.

“I will have you two know, I am pleasant company!” Gavril said as he steered his horse next to Sweetie.

“Of course, my friend,” Jardor said evenly with a placating smile. “Of course.”

“Why did you have to return home, anyways?” Torren asked with a raised brow at the elf. He had only mentioned business arrangements, but going home was an entirely different thing “Was that the other business you mentioned earlier?”

“It was,” Gavril said defensively. “I have people at home who were waiting on me, had to let them know I’d be back for good later than anticipated.”

Torren nodded and left it at that, he wasn’t going to judge people for their personal affairs, he knew that if he was still in contact with his own brothers he’d be doing the same. They lapsed into a silence after that, save for the occasional direction change from Jardor the other two were content with just following him. Finally, Torren found himself speaking up. “Jardor, if you’re the princesses’ guard, then why aren’t you with her?”

“Ah, there are two princesses in Aster, the one who is heir to the throne and the second in line should anything happen to the eldest sibling,” Jardor said. “The princess I served was the second in line, though she loathed the whole thing,” he added with a soft smile. “When she was...cursed, I was ordered to stay behind and help protect her sister.”

“So she’s cursed?” Gavril asked with a frown. “You didn’t mention that.”

Jardor shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I, yes, she’s cursed,” he said stiffly. “The sooner she comes home, I’m sure she’ll be closer to breaking that curse.”

“Isn’t true love usually the factor in those curses?” Gavril asked with a furrowed brow as Torren studied the minotaur.

“Yes, but that is not the case here,” Jardor said with such confidence neither mercenary knew what to do with that.

“So what is this curse?” Torren asked. “Why was she moved to such a remote location, surrounded by lava and a dragon?”

“It was considered necessary by the Throne, it was not my place to question it,” Jardor said stiffly.

“So you did disagree,” Gavril noted. “Which means it likely isn’t a curse, and that makes me so much more intrigued, don’t you feel the same, Torren?”

Torren didn’t comment. But he did note that the minotaur was clearly hiding something, and that made him all the more wary of this job. He should have just stayed home.

“Must you grate on my nerves, elf-boy?” Jardor snapped as he looked at the elven mercenary.

“Ah, elf-boy is actually my younger brother, a cute lad but not nearly as annoying as me, elf-man,” Gavril said with a grin, but it dropped quickly in the wake of a grim expression on his face. “Look, we can deal with a dragon, and even the lava. But if she’s cursed, we need to know exactly what we’re walking into.”

“Nothing dangerous,” Jardor promised, and the two men relaxed just a bit at that. The situation was weird, but Jardor radiated a trusting aura that it was hard to suspect they were walking into a trap. At least for Gavril, Torren always assumed there would be a trap involved when he traveled with others. “Just let me take the lead when we get to the tower, a familiar face will help her.”

“How long has she been locked away?” Torren asked finally.

“Seven years,” Jardor said with a weary look in his eyes, and deeper down, pain. “It’s high time for her to come home.” He nudged his horse, kicking her into a faster gait as they made their way out of Aster and into the wildlands. “That said, we’re a three day journey away from the tower, it’s in a remote part of the country that few travel by. We shouldn’t face any resistance before the volcano.”

“Well then, let’s get ourselves a princess,” Gavril said with a smirk at Torren as he sent Farren barreling after Jardor.

Torren sighed heavily and patted Sweetie’s neck, “let’s get this over with,” he said to her as he nudged her side gently, a gentle permission to run with the other horses, a permission that she gladly took as she galloped next to their two companions. In just three days, he’ll be fighting off a dragon surrounded by molten lava just to rescue a princess. That was the only certain thing he knew about this mission, if there was a curse, if they could get her to Aster before the King found out, if he still was getting paid.

Gods, was he still getting paid?

~*~*~*~

[eye of the tiger blasting]

Jardor kept the lead, forging ahead when Gavril decided that bickering with Torren was a Lovely Idea. Both men, both adult men, were constantly five seconds away from getting into a slapping fight that escalated when Gavril, a four year old apparently trapped in a twenty eight year old's body, claimed that Torren had hit him.

Jardor just let it happen when Torren really did hit him.

Setting up camp was a horrid affair, all three of them were skilled in camping, but those skills had varying degrees. Jardor could put up an excellent tent, but the sleeping cot kept getting tangled and eventually he just laid out on the mess with a stoic resolve. Torren was an expert in putting out his sleeping cot, but his tent kept falling out on one side and eventually he just moved Sweetie over to help keep it propped up with the promises of getting her an extra big bag of oats. And Gavril would put his tent up, but in the process of laying out his sleeping cot the tent would fall. When he’d try to put the cot up first, the tent would fall and he’d have to find his way back out again. And so, in a moment where his remaining two brain cells bumped together, he tied his tent up to the branches of the tree keeping it up and elevated while Torren glared at him from the inside of his lopsided tent that was beginning to smell of horse.

The morning didn’t help anything either.

Torren, used to years of cooking and traveling by himself, had woken up early and made himself, and only himself, a nice breakfast. The other two, woken by the pleasant smell of bacon and the heavenly sizzle of fresh eggs being cooked, came out of their tents with growling stomachs and crushing disappointment when they spotted Torren eating it all by himself. Jardor was disappointed, Gavril was dismayed. The two had to fend for themselves, Jardor splitting a piece of jerky with the elf as they glared subtly in Jardor’s case, and blatantly in Gavril’s.

When they finally set back out again, it was in lesser spirits than the day before. They were less than a day away, according to the smell of sulfur that got increasingly heavier as they traveled on. Gavril could see why no one had rescued the princess prior till now, the lands around the volcano were barren, the roads treacherous by hungry wolves. It was dangerous even for the three of them, he couldn’t imagine a merchant or a lone adventurer braving this land.

Well, maybe Torren.

But everyone else would be fucked.

Jardor let out a soft laugh up ahead and slowed to a stop at the crest of the hill. He glanced back at the two catching up, a light shining in his eyes as he grinned at them. “We’re here,” he announced as the tower, tall and magnificent, loomed below. It wasn’t exactly just a remote tower, Gavril could make out some crumbling structures of a once beautiful palace. He wondered, hoped really, that it was still stable and safe for the princess, surely her parent’s wouldn’t have dumped her into this hell hole if it was unstable. He paused, actually, he’s met some gods awful parent’s. It was a high possibility. But that was neither here nor there, the tower was still far enough away, but they would arrive there within the hour if they paced themselves. They still couldn’t spot the dragon, and none of them were willing to go head on against a fucking dragon.

Torren opened his mouth to speak, to ask what the plan was in case the dragon reared its head. But before he could utter a single word, a horn sounded from behind them. The three turned on their steeds to watch as a troop of soldiers made their way towards the tower, banners flying high, and armor glittering in the sunlight.

Pufort.

"Fuck," Gavril said with pursed lips.

Fuck was right.

~*~*~*~

Princess Amirah was absolutely, and positively bored. She had nothing else to paint, unless Harold suddenly changed their mind about her painting his scales. She’s run dramatically through the hallways a dozen times this morning, and really she wasn’t feeling it for a thirteenth time. All the books have been read, a countless amount of times. At this point she could quote the books and she did, constantly, to Harold as they cleaned their teeth from their meal each night. Harold never spoke as to whether or not they enjoyed it, but she assumed they would have put an end to it by now if they didn’t.

She sighed heavily as she paced her room, paint brush in hand as she tried to figure out a new canvas. There was still some room on the window sill, maybe even the dresser if she painted small enough. She paused by the open window, the smell of sulfur no longer bothered her as she breathed it in. She barely remembered the smell of fresh, clean air. Or the sound of bustling streets, the maids coming in with sweet hushed words, her mothers hugs…

Amirah shook her head and smacked her cheek chastisingly with her paint brush. No, no thoughts like that, she’s survived seven years without those things, she can survive many more. In all honesty, she probably could leave. It wasn’t like anyone was going to come looking for her of all the princesses in this unholy tower. They were more likely to go for the skinny blonde overlooking the ocean than her. Which was fine, she was the second born princess of Aster, her sister was always considered the prettiest, the fairest, the princess that all should aspire to be.

Amirah made it her mission to defy that expectation. She hated the princess duties that her mother and sister had forced her to attend. She hated the expectations that were expected of her as the second in line to the throne. To marry a neighboring kingdom, to secure an alliance between the two. To have their heirs and continue the bloodline. It all made her squeamish honestly. In a perfect life, she wouldn’t mind marrying and settling down on her own terms with someone that she truly loved. But she didn’t have the perfect life, she had her mothers expectations and her sister's legacy.

She was honestly safer in the tower than back home.

A strange sound filled the air, and a frown pulled at her lips as she looked off outside. She adjusted her glasses as another horn sounded, a horn of all things. Why would a horn be here, who was blowing the damned thing. They were going to wake Harold up!

Leaning out the window, Amirah let out a gasp as banners crested over the hill. Banners that belonged to Pufort, the kingdom ruled by King Richard. In the distance, she spotted three men charging ahead of the group, and hope glittered in her heart as she spied familiar horns. Was Jardor really here? She didn't know who the other men were, or what she assumed were male honestly she knew some beefy female knights, oh gods was Clarissa here? That would truly make her day.

Before she could speculate, however, a loud roar filled the air and shook the ground. Clinging to the wall, Amirah looked up in slight fear. She knew that roar, and what it meant. A challenge, anyone who wanted her, had to go through them.

May the Divines bless their poor souls.

#exophilia #orcs #elves #minotaurs #orc boyfriend #elf boyfriend #god i havent posted in so long i forgot how to tag akdjskjrfjew #ok #this is gonna be a SLOW BURN POLYCULE #with a fourth wheel who is there for the clusterfuck #guess who is who this week on WHEN WILL HUFFLES CONTINUE THIS #lmao #kidding I have chapter two in the works bitches #my mental health is questionable but waking up at 4 am now has it merrits #you aren't ready for the concoctions i have in store #edited this bc I forgot that google docs doesn't trasfer to tumblr like it does on ff.net #my writing #sfw

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mourntheantagonist · 3 years

Text

#HarringroveApril Day 23: Picnic

***

Billy’s favorite memories of his mom were always at the same place. That same little place that was outside those suffocating four walls where instead of just the aroma of beer and tobacco where the light came just from one flickering bulb in the ceiling, the sun shined through the branches on the maple trees over fields of dandelions, where his mom would always hold one up to his lips and tell him to make a wish.

They spent that time eating. She would pack a big basket full of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, sliced fruit and juice boxes, and always something special and home made for the desert. They would sit out on a ratty old blanket and play with the ladybugs and enjoy their time away. Together.

It was always so perfect. So peaceful. He had to be physically dragged back home to the dingy and dusty apartment every time.

The day he used the dandelion to wish they could both just run away was the day he first stopped believing in it.

In the months leading up to his mom ditching, trips to the field were nonexistent for the most part, aside from the last one. The one that took place just two days before she packed her bags and left without a trace, without notice, nothing but a note left on the fridge granting Billy just one phone call before he would never hear her voice again.

He still went back to the field. He would sit with his back to their favorite tree until the sun began to set, waiting for her to come back. Waiting for her to emerge from the distance with that same contagious laugh and picnic basket in hand. He did that every day until he couldn’t anymore. Until seeing the sun set just one more time and seeing no blonde figure walking over through the horizon became too painful.

It got to a point where he wasn’t sure he’d be happy to see her if she did, just angry. So unbelievably angry. He would have shown her all of the cuts and bruises she left for him to bear all by himself. The one person he had in his corner left him high and dry and without even so much as a basket full of pb&j’s and her famous apple pie.

After waiting and hoping became too exhausting, the anger followed suit. It soon became easier to forget than to stay mad. It became easier to shut himself down when it was time for the belt than to curse her name for leaving him there to take it all alone. He’d let the rage fade away and think of only fields of green, yellow, and white, and the smile on his mom’s face, the mother that stood between him and the monsters, not the one who fed him to the dragon.

His happy place.

It didn’t take long for him to lose sight of that too. He could hardly remember what her face looked like anymore, and day by day, beating after beating, his happy place became too closely associated with pain, that it was just another place. Just another place he couldn’t successfully escape to anymore.

And the memory was lost. Just like that. Suppressed along with all of the others, and Billy could only recall her face in the few pictures he managed to keep away from the fireplace. He had nothing to replace the sounds of leather striking his skin or the taste of blood in his mouth, so he was left there to just take it. Unable to fight back, unable to breathe. He’d just stay there, hold back the tears, and keep telling himself that it would all be over soon.

He’d forgotten. Memories out in the field chasing butterflies and picking flowers and smearing jelly all over his face were replaced by red, replaced by pain and grief and a dark tunnel with no conceivable light on the other side. No more hope.

He’d forgotten until he found the same old wicker basket while cleaning the garage.

The old ratty blanket was still inside.

It was all still intact.

And the memories came flooding back like a fifty foot wave crashing over the top of him, drowning him, leaving him panicked and unsure of what to do next, where to go, how to proceed. He just held it in his two hands and let his eyes fall closed, seeing the green, yellow, and white displayed on the inside of his eyelids, feeling that happiness inside of him just one more time. The memories were far away, barely in reach, but they weren’t gone forever.

He could almost smell the lemon perfume and hear the buzz of the bees she attracted.

There were many steps that had to be taken in between point a and point b that couldn’t even be considered a mistake, but it felt a little bit like one when he was driving in the car to Steve’s house with a picnic basket in the passenger seat filled with beer and chips and whatever snacks he could find lurking in the back of their kitchen cupboards.

And of course, two quickly and poorly made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

Steve had been the memories that filled the silence for him. It was Steve’s laugh that he heard when he needed the tears to stop, it was the feeling of his lips against his own that made the pain go away, it was the feeling of his arms around him, holding him tightly when Billy didn’t want him to let go, feeling like it was always too short when he did, that made it seem like only a second. A blip.

He wanted to have a picnic with Steve. He wanted to bring use to the abandoned basket and play with the ladybugs in Steve’s hair and make wishes on dandelions.

He knocked on Steve’s door with one hand, the other holding the picnic basket.

“Hey, you didn’t say you were coming over.” Steve said, eyes looking only to him and not noticing the basket just yet.

Billy held it up a little higher, right in Steve’s view. “I had a stupid idea, are you free?”

“I’m literally always free Billy.”

Billy laughed and pulled Steve outside by his hand, helping him down the step like a gentleman. “Y’know of any good places for a picnic around here?”

Steve guided him somewhere not too far, just ten minutes south of Hawkins where there was a large field with a pond nearby, quiet and vacant and perfect, and absolutely littered with dandelions both yellow and white. Despite the short trip, Billy had to slap Steve’s hand away from opening the basket more than one time.

It was freeing walking hand in hand through the field. There was nobody around to see them, but the open space made it feel public. No tight walls or car doors holding them in and hiding them from view. Just that little bit of freedom was enough. They found a little patch with a little bit of shade and laid out the blanket on the grass. It was just like he remembered. Tattered and worn blue cloth, it still had the grape juice stain on the corner from when he laughed so hard it came out of his nose.

Steve sat down and looked up at Billy with little puppy dog eyes that asked “can I please open it now?”

Billy just nodded his head and Steve immediately started pulling out the chips and the beers and the little saran wrapped sandwiches.

“It’s not gourmet or anything, but it’s food.”

“Don’t knock a perfectly good pb&j,” Steve said, already beginning to unwrap it. “What’s the special occasion anyway?”

“No special occasion, I just wanted to take you on a picnic.” Billy said, hesitating, wondering not only if he should go forward, but wondering if he even could. Would the words even come out if he tried to say them. “My mom and I went on picnics a lot as a kid.” He says it all in one hastily quick breath, sighing heavily when he reached the end of his sentence. “I thought this could help keep the memory alive.”

Steve took a bite of his sandwich while Billy worked on unwrapping his own, looking down and away from Steve as he finished chewing his bite. “You don’t talk about her much.” he said, and Billy chanced a look up, and Steve was giving him a soft toothless smile. Warm and inviting like it always was.

“She left when I was ten. It’s not like there’s a lot to talk about.” Billy took a bite out of his own sandwich, a large one just in case Steve decided to begin some type of interrogation, that way he’d have at least a little bit of spare time to think of something to say.

“What was she like?”

Billy smiled, the memories coming back again. He remembers doing somersaults and cartwheels in the grass pretending they were training to be gymnasts, even if Billy fell on his ass every time and got grass stains on his jeans that didn’t come out no matter how many times they ran them through the wash. He was also remembering all those times Neil would scream at her for letting him ruin another pair, and hearing her scream back at him just as loud.

“She was strong.” he said, smile only faltering for a second.

“I figured you had to have gotten it from somewhere.” Steve said, he managed to finish the first half of the sandwich in just the time it had taken Billy to answer. “What else? What did she look like?”

“She was blonde, bright blonde, and tall. She was beautiful.”

“So you didn’t get the height from her.” Billy nudged him in the shoulder and laughed. He pulled out two cans of beer from the basket and passed one over to Steve. “You think she would have liked me?”

“I’d just love to say no, but yeah. She would have adored you.” Billy said, because she would have, she would have loved to have a buddy by her side while she poked fun.

“Do you still miss her?” Steve asked, and Billy tensed enough that Steve noticed. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that.”

“No, it’s okay.” Billy took a deep breath. “I think for a while there, I forgot to miss her, but I think I always will.” he shut his eyes and bowed his head. “Sometimes I feel like she hurt me worse than my dad ever did, so I shouldn’t have good memories of her.”

Steve moved across to the other side of the blanket and pulled Billy into his side, one arm wrapped around him and Billy just let his head tilt to the side and rear on his shoulder. “She betrayed your trust. I can’t even begin to imagine how much that hurt, but you’re still allowed to have the good memories. She doesn’t get to take those away from you too.” Steve rubbed his hand against Billy’s arm, the friction making him warm and sending a chill up his spine. “And missing her, remembering good things about her, it doesn’t have to mean that what she did after was okay. It doesn’t forgive her.”

Billy doesn’t realize he’s crying until Steve’s wiping away a tear from his cheek.

“Hey, I love you,” Steve said, holding Billy’s face in both hands and looking him right in the eye before giving him a short and chaste kiss to the lips, “and I’d love to hear more about her if it helps you remember,” Steve kissed him again, longer this time, pushing a strand of hair back and tucked behind his ear, “and I want to help you replace the bad ones with better ones if you’ll let me.”

Billy smiled and wrapped a hand around Steve’s wrist that was still holding his cheeks. “You already do, everytime I see you.”

Sitting on that blanket, eating from that basket, it sent a lot of forgotten memories rushing back in a flood, and as Steve kissed him there was one that kept pounding at the front of his skull.

When his mom held the dandelion to his lips, and he made the wish…

“I wish I will fall in love.” he said it out loud for his mom to hear and she just smiled.

“Anyone would be a fool not to love you.”

That one came true.

He was in a sea of dandelions ready to be wished on, but he didn’t budge from his spot, because there was nothing he could think to wish for. He had everything he wanted right in front of him.

And he tasted just like peanut butter.

#tw: child abuse #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #mandi writes tresh #ficlet #harringroveapril #harringrove april

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moeruhoshi · 3 years

Text

I’ve already put this on my ff.net but I wanted to share it on here

There existed a legend of the undine, a powerful creature that provided the continent, Fiore, with its water supply.

The story began with a vast expanse of desert covering every inch of the land, barely a water source in sight. Water early humans were able to find, made for the center of town, small villages surrounding it. And once their source was used up, they moved to find the next one.

Soon, all tribes gathered around the last oasis, each leader convening to decide the best course of action.

They gathered all of their people, asking each and everyone if they were brave enough to wander the desert searching for the fabled undine.

There was a high risk of death from dehydration or getting lost in the delirious sun. But to save thousands of people from the brink of extinction would deem even the weakest a hero.

Silver Fullbuster offered himself for the task, the North's most notorious warrior.

The crowd roared with cheers as the leaders took him away, immediately preparing him for the turbulent journey.

An ancient map of the undine's possible location, enough drinking water for two months, rations, clothing, shelter. Silver's own camel would lead him through the trials of the hot sun.

He left that night, ignoring the cheers and hopes of the people, knowing their burden wasn't worth shouldering.

He wasn't doing this to gain status or heroism. Only a greedy man would save thousands to stoke his own ego.

His greed was personal, because of course, he wanted something in this world.

He wanted a family; a wife and a healthy little boy. But he never let himself fall into such an extreme fantasy.

How could he when the world was in so much trouble? When there was barely any water for the children to drink now? He refused to let his family struggle without a means of solution. And now, here one was. He could appease the undine, beg for their help, possibly return water to Fiore.

Once he went back, victorious, he could settle down and have the life he always dreamed of. That was the true reward in this trek.

So he kept a consistent routine; traveling at night under the moon's cool gaze and building shelter for the day's beaming sunlight.

Silver would read the map, re-reading day in and out. He memorized the landmarks on the way; massive sand dunes, clumps of palm trees, dried up oasis', gardens of cactus.

The undine rested in the northeast, the location, he found, that he'd never seen on a map before. He was quite an expert when it came to navigation, having read most maps that led his people to new water sources.

But this one led him past the highest dune, into an undiscovered portion of land. This assured him of the possibility of the undine's actual existence. He also felt a bit wary, unsure of what lay out in the mythical desert.

He hoped his sword wouldn't have to be drawn for anything but slicing his fruit.

The journey was taxing, Silver, fearing that his mind would begin to waver. Sanity was not easy to be kept by oneself, and he wished to have just one conversation with his old friends. The camel wasn't as interesting.

He hoped they were well, that the villages were, too. He hoped the water supply hadn't lessened by much, his self-made calendar almost a month in.

He neared the location, marking off each landmark that stood out to him. The palm trees, the oasis', the cacti, and finally, the series of mountainous dunes.

It wasn't long before his two months came to fruition, his water supply dangerously low.

It was enough to make it over that high peak in the distance, his goal just moments out of his grasp.

He traveled through the sun and the moon, not caring to even get a wink of sleep. He was almost there, almost there, almost...there.

Sand, sand, and more sand.

What? No, that couldn't be true.

Where was her cave, where was the blooming rainforest, the oasis?

Where were the plants and trees and water?

Where was the undine?

He gulped down the lump in his throat, calming his trembling hands as he ebbed his camel to begin its descent.

It had to be nearby; maybe it was just a bit farther than he could see.

But he didn't have enough food or water to make it past another horizon. His camel would lose its energy, and then, he would be left, stranded in the middle of nowhere, to die.

He held back his fear, taking deep breaths with his eyes shut tightly. Everything would be okay.

He repeated this in his head, holding onto the reins to avoid falling off.

Everything would be okay.

Everything would be...gentle, like a droplet of water on his cheek.

Everything would be...silky, like a cool banana leaf brushing against his skin.

Everything would be...comforting, like a calm wind on a hot summer's day.

Everything would be...wait...huh?

Silver opened his eyes, leading his camel through a suddenly grassy area, plants, and trees surrounding every end. He couldn't even feel the sun on his skin, the leaves providing him with excellent shade.

He shook his head, rubbed his eyes, slapped his cheeks.

No way...

He stopped abruptly, eyes bewildered at the sight of a relaxed, glistening, untouched body of water.

He hopped off the camel, quickly throwing off his clothes as he jumped into the water. He couldn't help but laugh. He actually made it.

He knew he would never have a chance to bathe like this again, taking the soaps out of his supplies to properly wash the desert off of his skin.

Somehow, he felt healthier, renewed. Almost like the water was giving him nutrients, soaking into his body and returning all of his lost hydration.

He never smiled more than he did today.

He let himself rest against the water's edge, stroking the camel's head as it drank from the pond.

A sudden snap of a twig in the leaves startled him, Silver quickly standing in fear.

Until now, he hadn't bothered to wonder if there was anything else in this place. But, of course, wildlife could exist anywhere.

A sharp squeal punctured his eardrums, a girl not much taller than himself falling out from behind a nearby tree.

She was dressed in delicate white, albeit sheer, garb, hair the color of the moon.

Silver felt his cheeks reddened as they made eye contact, his heart suddenly unable to stop beating.

He asked carefully if she was alright, the girl quickly scrambling to her feet, giving him a haphazard bow before running off into the woods.

That couldn't have been the undine, right?

He hurriedly tugged on a pair of pants, running after her without a second thought. A smile grew on his face; somehow, he was having a lot of fun right now. Maybe it was the effects of this place, but he wouldn't question it.

She came into view, her hands carrying the ends of her dress.

He called out, asking her to stop, pleading with her, apologizing for scaring her off.

She eventually came to a halt, doubling over as she caught her breath.

"I've never run so much...in my life," She wheezed, Silver laughing as he caught up to her.

"I'm sorry," He snickered, running a hand through his hair. "Do you need some water?"

"...No, I'm alright," She said, standing straight to look him in the eye.

His heart jumped at her sharp gaze, finding it absolutely mesmerizing. But then, he remembered his task, remembered everyone who was waiting for him.

Either way, something told him not to ask just yet.

"How did you find this place?"

"By accident," He shrugged, the girl blushing at his lopsided grin. "Although, I do have a map,"

"Eh? Where? Show me," She said, quickly grabbing onto his arm. Both blushed at the sudden touch, Silver suddenly realizing that he wasn't wearing a shirt.

He led her back to his things without question, pulling the scroll from the camel's back.

"See," He pointed at the blank space. "This told me that I'd find this place here,"

"All this time, they had a map," Her lip trembled as she mumbled, staring at the expanse. "Why did no one come if there was a map?!"

Silver reeled at her sudden outburst, watching water drip from her arms and legs, forming a pool at her feet.

"Why..."

He struggled to speak up, not knowing exactly what to say. But he recognized that sad tone on her voice, one he'd come accustomed to in his own mind. She was lonely.

"No one thought this place was real," He said honestly. "It was a story for young children. Not a message to come find you,"

She sniffled as he reached out to rub her back, the two awkwardly meeting eyes again.

"I-I see... I'm sorry...I get very emotional at times,"

"That's okay," He shook his head, clearing his throat as he thought of something else to say.

"So...you have a name?"

"Mika...my name is Mika."

Silver then spent his days with Mika, wondering how he could ask her to provide water to the world. But he couldn't ask a lonely girl, barely his own age, to do such a thing. They just met; how could he make it her responsibility? She was abandoned by the world, left to take care of it without a second thought.

Unbeknownst to Silver, however, the world already began to change. The water seemed to grow from nowhere, the oasis back home never even falling an inch.

Old, dried up sources began to refill, and plants began to grow out of the ground. It was a true miracle, for every few hours equaled to about three months in the real world.

His presence alone filled the undine with a newfound emotion, one that stirred her to unconsciously plenish the Earth.

She showed him every plant and animal that existed in her domain, how she took care of them all these years.

He showed her how to wield a sword because that was the only thing he knew how to do.

She would watch him practice, trying not to stare so hard at his bare chest.

Mika didn't understand the deep welling in her chest that made her leak out of her ears at times. Silver was steadily filling a hole in her heart, one she didn't realize was so empty.

He was straightforward in most ways, knowing full well he'd fallen in love.

He went off and fell in love, unable to accept that he hadn't helped anyone by doing so.

He couldn't bear the weight of selfish guilt, wondering if he should just get it over with and ask the undine for help.

She sensed his anxiety, her own building as her thoughts began to wander. He wasn't from around here; what would happen if there came a day he wanted to leave? How could she go back to existing all by herself?

"You look quite somber," Mika said as she approached Silver from behind, sitting next to him as he stared into the reflection of the pond. "Anything I can help with?"

"I just miss my home," He sighed, tossing a pebble into the water. "I wonder if they're all okay,"

"I could show you?" She hummed, bending herself to enter his field of vision.

"How?" He stared at her as she waved a hand over the water, an image blurring into view. He saw his friends, the villages waving as they began to part ways. They were returning to their rightful homes, all with enough water to last the whole trip. He could see the plant life that never existed before, the clouds in the usually empty sky. He could see their vanished cracked lips, their joy as they helped themselves to the oasis water that didn't even lose an inch.

He looked at her with wide eyes, quickly understanding the situation. She craved for company, never having any before he stepped foot in here. And the world magically began to fix itself, all because her lonesome self was requited.

Silver no longer felt the need to hold back, grabbing onto Mika's shoulders. He pushed her down before she could refuse him, kissing her with his held back feelings.

The undine rightfully sprung a leak, unable to grasp the situation entirely.

This day would mark the first rainstorm to ever cross the land.

She kissed him back, finding herself more comfortable when he whispered between their lips.

"I love you,"

He finally had the family he always wished for, a wife and a healthy little boy.

They named him Gray, his sharp eyes a bit gloomy but bright and full of wonder.

He was an undine, like his mother. The day of his birth had unwittingly created what the world would come to know as oceans.

Silver lived without knowing what became of the world, its expansion, evolution. It was past its days of cloth tents and makeshift floors, buildings and castles built, wars fought and won, kingdoms conquered. The legend of the undine soon became a legend again, Silver's name lost in the history books.

He didn't need anything more than Mika and Gray in his life.

But Gray, well, Gray tirelessly craved something. He couldn't understand what; maybe this was just how an undine lived. His father was a human, so he couldn't understand well.

However, Mika repeatedly told him what it meant to find love. It was everything to an undine, a second close to their life's primary purpose. It was more than familial love, a bond that Gray could only ever have with one person.

The one person he met by falling through a pond.

Juvia liked to play by the water every day, skipping rocks and kicking her feet in the shallow end.

She was an only child; her parent's often too busy to pay her any attention.

The water created a reflection she spoke to, mistakenly learning the habit of talking in the third person.

Juvia this, Juvia that...her parents would never let her make a debut in high society with such an odd way of talking.

One day as she sat by the pond, the young girl was started by a sharp shout, one that was...falling from below?

She threw herself back and out of the way as a boy popped out of the water, gravity bringing him down on the ground.

He grunted, rubbing his nose as he stood up.

"What the..." He pouted as he looked around, soon locking eyes with the girl behind him.

"Who..." Juvia began to say, startled as he quickly jumped back in the water.

"Be careful! You could drown!" She shouted, rushing back to the water's edge. But the surface was still, and the boy was gone as if he'd never existed.

Gray did exist and quickly wished he hadn't. His chest, his heart...it felt like it would beat its way out onto the ground. What was this? What did she do to him? Why does he feel so...mushy?

He ignored such a creepy feeling, going back to the quiet life he lived with his parents, unable to get her image out of his head.

Years passed before they would meet again, on the eve of Juvia's eighteenth birthday. Her parents threw a ball, introducing her to all sorts of people from across Fiore. But she didn't really care to fake a smile all evening.

She escaped to her safe haven, sitting beside the pond once again.

She couldn't forget that strange boy with the droopy eyes, even after all these years. He was wonderfully precious to her, like a fairy. She wondered if they'd ever meet again.

"It's rude to leave a party without even having one dance, no?" She turned around, rolling her eyes as she saw Lyon.

"I don't care much for dances," She sighed, frowning as he crouched down beside her.

"I'd rather if you learned to be more well behaved," He frowned, tightly gripping her chin with his forefinger and thumb. "My fiancee has to have manners."

"I'll do well to remember that," She glared at him as he stood up, turning to walk back inside.

"I'll see you in a few minutes,"

Her rage always escalated when that creep was around, never even able to care about him for a second. He didn't like her anyway since their relationship was arranged for their parent's benefit. She caught him multiple times cavorting with his own maid that he seemed to adore ten times more.

She looked into the pond, sighing again. She wanted to be with that boy from her memories, wondering just what could lie underneath this shallow surface.

Maybe she could go through, too? She never thought to try it before. And drowning was always better than a miserable life with Lyon.

Juvia waded into the water, her large ballgown helping to drag her to the bottom.

Please, please, please, let me see him again.

She closed her eyes and held her breath, struggling when she needed to exhale.

Juvia forced herself to the surface, gasping for air as she reached the top.

Opening her eyes, she met the shocked gaze of a boy almost her age, those same droopy eyes staring at her with ripe panic.

"It's... It's you!" Her smile stretched widely at the boy before her, his blush increasing with each passing second.

"Could you...!" He roared and slapped the water at her. "I'm taking a bath!"

"Oh..." Juvia quickly turned around, covering her eyes. "My goodness, I'm so sorry!"

"Uh-huh, just don't turn around, I mean it!" He growled, the splash of the water letting her know he got out.

"Let me get your hand," Juvia blushed as she turned to see him holding out his hand, wearing nothing but a loose pair of trousers. She'd never seen a man shirtless like this before. It was...she couldn't think of the word.

"Thank you," She swallowed her nerves as they stood before one another.

"Do you need some help getting back?" He quirked a brow, looking over her shoulder. "That gate should've been closed, but I can push you back through it, so you get home,"

"N-No!" He took a step back as she shouted. "N-No, I don't want to go back there, please don't send me away,"

"Fine then," He huffed with an annoyed hue on his cheeks. "You can stay, but we'll have to ask my parents,"

"Okay," She quietly followed behind him as he began to walk, the soaked train dragging against the forest floor.

"May I ask your name?"

"Gray," He threw her a look over his shoulder, walking with his hands held up behind his head. "Yours?"

"I'm Juvia,"

"Juvia," He mumbled, unconsciously smiling at the way it flowed on his tongue.

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fangirl-inthe-us · 4 years

Text

His Person

Summary: A fogginess overcomes Geralt and all he can focus on him finding one person.

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Author’s Note: AHHHHHHH!!!!!! I have been working on this thing for WEEKS!!!! I have been wanting to join the Witcher writing group for months but I never could come up with a tangible plot. Now I have and I hope it isn’t too terrible for all y’all. Also, I imagined Henry’s Geralt as I wrote this. Though, the more I read it the more Geralt’s personality is like Withcer 3′s Geralt. 😅 I would like to thank @seb-owns-these-tatas for encouraging me through the entire writing process. She is the light in my writing darkness! Love you babe! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ Okay, I’m going to stop talking so you can go read. Enjoy!

Warnings: Swearing (I actually don’t know if there is any), violence, my grammar.

Word Count: 2.9k

Masterlist

He couldn’t think straight. There was a fogginess that plagued his mind. his thoughts were consumed with one thing. He needed to find someone. Only, Geralt had no Idea who. The only thing that came to mind was that this person would be back at his camp.

Struggling to maneuver around the forest, Geralt stumbled through the leafy green foliage. His eyes were wide which hurriedly assessed his surroundings. With his clouded mind, Geralt couldn’t remember where he was or how he had gotten there. He would have to rely on his witcher senses to get him where he needed to be.

Geralt’s first instinct was to use his heightened hearing. Using as much focus as he possibly could, he intently listened. A few moments passed. All that Geralt could hear was the sounds of rustling trees, the chattering of squirrels, and the buzzing of bees. Until he heard it. There, ever so faintly, Geralt could hear roach’s neighing.

With that one sound, Geralt found his way back to camp quickly. Upon reaching the camp, he was met with nothing but disappointment. There, indeed was a person. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the person Geralt was looking for.

The other person was male. His brown hair was ruffled and he wore an intricate doublet. He looked familiar to Geralt. Yet the fogginess of his brain prevented him from recognizing the man. Trying to fight the fogginess, Geralt could remember that the man was a bard of some sort.

“Geralt? Are you alright? Did you kill the beast?” The bard walked towards him. Geralt could see that his brows were drawn together and there was caution in his step. He must look like a wild beast.

“Hmmm.” Without thinking, Geralt walked passed the Bard.

Geralt surveyed the area. He couldn’t see who he was looking for. This caused the witcher to use his enhanced senses again. taking a deep breath, Geralt could smell something sweet. It was her and She was close. Following the scent, Geralt took off. The man from before was angrily mumbling to himself but stopped once he noticed that Geralt was marching away.

“Geralt, where are you going?” Falling in step with the witcher, the bard trampled over the vegetation under his feet.

“Leave, bard.”

“Wh-Geralt! What is the meaning of this? Where are you going?” The bard was flailing his arms as he spoke.

Geralt let out a growl in warning. The bard was preventing him from finding his missing person. And once he did find his person, Geralt realized that the bard would only interrupt them. He didn’t want that.

Stopping midstep, he turned and looked directly at the bard.“Go back to the camp. This does not concern you.” The look Geralt had given the smaller man must have sent the right message.

The bard slowly stepped away. “Alright, but if you don’t come back, Y/N and I will go out looking for you.” Finished with his outburst, the bard made his way back to camp.

At the mention of her name, Geralt froze. Yes, that was who he was looking for. Why? He still couldn’t tell. All he knew was that it was impertinent that he found her.

A couple of minutes later, Geralt came upon a river. The scent he was following had gotten stronger. he pressed on. The closer he got the better he could hear. There was a faint sound of small splashes and a humming.

Upon reaching the riverbank, Geralt found a pile of clothes that practically emitted the scent. That is when Geralt’s attention was pulled away. The splashing sounds were practically right next to him. With this knowledge, he was yet again following his senses. Not even five steps in, Geralt could see Y/N. Geralt held his breath at the sight of her. She was gorgeous. Her naked form was mostly concealed by the water but it left little to the imagination.

Taking one step forward, Geralt accidentally snapped a twig. The sound made the woman whip her head back to look at him.

“gods, Geralt! You terrified me!” Y/N shrieked.

At the thought of scaring her, Geralt growled. He didn’t want his presence to frighten her. Suddenly, Geralt had the need to be beside her. Without a care in the world, he was walking into the river towards the woman.

“What are you doing? Geralt? You’re scaring me.” Y/N had now moved her arms to cover herself protectively.

“Don’t be.” Geralt grunted. He was now right in front of her. A breath away.

Y/N’s eyes were opened wide. She looked at Geralt cautiously. “What?” She questioned.

“Don’t be scared.”

“Okay? Just explain what’s going on?”

“I need-I need you. I need to be beside you.” Geralt’s voice was dripping with desperation.

“Oh, okay. Um-” Before she could utter another word, Geralt was dragging her body toward his.

Now that Y/N was in his arms, Geralt buried his face into her hair. He took a deep breath. Her hair was wet from the river but it still smelt of her. He didn’t care that his clothes were getting wet. All he wanted was to be close to Y/N. Whatever had gotten to him had really spooked him. the fogginess didn’t help.

“Um, hey, Geralt?” Geralt moved back but didn’t let her go. Y/N peered up at the witcher, “Can I get dressed? as much as I love your embrace, I am starting to get cold.” He must’ve made a face because she was then saying, “can we at least get out of the river?” Without a word, Geralt grasped Y/N’s hand and led her out of the water.

Once out, Y/N was about to grab her clothes when Geralt beat her to it. He helped Y/N into her underwear. He then motioned for her to raise her arms. Doing as he wished, Y/N lifted her arms. Geralt pulled the dress over her head with ease.

“So, do you want to talk about what’s bothering you?” Y/N voiced after a while.

“hmmm.” Geralt wordlessly moved to embrace her again. He pulled the two of them to sit down. The two stayed that way for a few minutes.

“I-I don’t know what’s going on.” Geralt finally said. “It’s all foggy. I was fighting the beast and-and I can’t remember much else. My head couldn’t focus on anything else other than finding you. Though, at the time, I didn’t know that it was you. I just knew there was someone I needed to have close.”

“Oh, Geralt. I’m here,” Y/n ran her hands through Geralt’s hair, “I’ve got you. It’s okay now.”

“I don’t know if it is though. I can’t remember slaying the beast. It could still be out there.”

“Why don’t we go back to camp and we can figure things out? Does that sound okay?” Y/N looked directly into his eyes.

A deep grunt was the only reply Y/N got as an answer. Soon after, Geralt was standing with Y/N still in his arms. he adjusted her. She now had her arms wrapped around his neck and her legs wrapped around his hips. This position allowed Geralt to be the closest to her as he could be.

Reaching the camp, Geralt let Y/N down. He didn’t let her go completely though. He wasn’t ready to leave her quite yet. He knew he should go looking for the creature but there was something holding him back.

“Ah, I see you found her.” The bard stopped in front of the two with his hands placed on his hips. Geralt eyed the man. A name popped out at him, Jaskier. The bard’s name was Jaskier.

Looking between the two men, Y/n questioned, “What’s with you two?”

“Oh, nothing. Except for the fact that he practically shoved me out of the way in his rampage to get to you! He then proceeded to tell me to fuck off.”

“Geralt!” Y/N slapped Geralt’s bicep.

“It’s not my fault. I couldn’t recognize him. The haze made it impossible.” Shrugging, Geralt eyed the bard, “I’m sorry, Jaskier.” He finally huffed out.

“I forgive you.” Jaskier paused, “But you get to do the washing later.” With that, the bard walked off.

“That… was weird.” Y/N flashed Geralt a puzzled look.

“This whole situation is weird.” Letting out a sigh, Geralt let go of Y/N’s hand and reached for his silver sword. “It’s about time I find the beast and kill it. For good this time.”

With one last look at Y/N, Geralt was dragging himself back into the woods. He had a newfound determination. All he wanted was to have Y/N back in his Arms.

Geralt brainstormed ideas on what the beast could have been. In all honesty, Geralt thought a witch could have been the culprit. The more he thought about it the less possible it could have been. Geralt could specifically remember images of Bug-like creatures.

Approaching the place he was before the haze hit, Geralt tuned into his senses. His hearing picked up rustling from the tall grass, A few birds chirping in the distance, and the burble of a nearby pond. with no distinct sounds, Geralt focused on what he could see.

His eyes found several tracks. One pair belonged to him while The other tracks looked like they were leading towards the pond. This meant that there was more than one creature.

Deciding the tracks were the best lead that he had, Geralt crept beside them. He didn’t know if the creatures were close enough to sense him. This made Geralt make sure that he had easy access to his sword and bombs. If only he knew what the creature was; He could simply add the respective oil to his sword and be done with the job.

Suddenly, there was a high pitched growl to the far right. Geralt had graciously maneuvered into a crouch. The creatures were close. He would like to do this quietly. There is less of a mess that way.

He had reached the end of the tall grass. Looking through the grass, Geralt could see the clearing. A pond was smack dab in the middle of it and a little to the right of the pond were tiny figures.

They couldn’t be much bigger than a baby. Their tiny bodies were oddly shaped as they had two legs and four arms. Their backs were covered in what looked like black wiry hair. What was truly freakish about these creatures was that They had no necks. their heads practically molded into their torsos. Geralt was repulsed.

It hit him after a moment. He could remember back to Vesimir’s Teachings back at Kaer Morhen. Vesimir revealed an old bestiary to his teenage self. It was bursting with creature information. The beast in from of him now was a beast he and Vesimir went over before.

This monstrosity was a Bełt. It wasn’t a common beast. Over the years, these beasts have been killed off. almost to the point of extinction. Geralt was surprised to be seeing now.

Thinking back, Geralt realized what the fogginess was. Bełts were known for their speed but also for their mind control magic. Geralt concluded that they were too quick for him and one of them messed with his mind.

It made even more sense why he needed to get to Y/N. She was the last thing on his mind before he went hunting for the beast.

Geralt smirked. He knew exactly what to do to kill the nasty buggers. Pulling out his enhanced relict oil, Geralt added a few drops to his silver sword. With care, he then rubbed the oil over the sword. He made sure that it coated the blade completely. Next, Geralt was moving closer to the Bełts. He made sure to stay hidden in the tall grass.

Once he was in a good position, Geralt readied himself. He was then rushing out of the grass and descending his blade on the unsuspecting creatures. With a few doges and several hard swings of his sword, the Bełts were dead. Looting what he could, Geralt was making his way back to camp.

It was dark by the time Geralt made it to his humble campsite. Y/N and Jaskier had started a fire which glowed in the darkened forest. It gave Geralt a promise of food and warmth. When he did stumble out of the trees, He was greeted with the small chatter of his companions.

“Okay, then you place the card in its corresponding place,” Jaskier informed Y/N. Geralt could tell they were up to no good.

If he was hearing alright, which he was, Jaskier was teaching Y/N how to play Gwent. Anything that involved Gwent and Jaskier was sure to make trouble. Geralt figured he should break up whatever Jaksier was planning on doing before anything happened.

The two were so engrossed in their game they didn’t even notice that the witcher was approaching them. This made for the perfect opportunity to spook them. Geralt was aiming to spook Jaskier more than Y/N. But some things you just have to do for the greater good. The spook would at least put an end to Jaskier’s mischief.

Letting out a loud grunt. The two paused immediately. Jaskier jumped up and let out a little squawk. The sight was quite humorous to the witcher.

“Geralt?!?!” Jaskier now held a hand to his chest, “You gave me a heart attack!”

Jaskier’s hollering had Y/N laughing so hard that she fell over on the ground. Geralt, after a few minutes, followed Y/N in her laughter. The two were now cackling at Jaskier’s expense.

A little offended, Jaskier just stood there with his hands on his hips and his lips pressed tightly together. This didn’t last though. Jaskier couldn’t help but laugh at the other two’s reactions. Geralt was pretty sure that someone could hear their laughter from a mile away.

The three laughed for a handful of minutes. Slowly, the laughter died down. Y/N and Jaskier were gasping for air while Geralt wiped away a few traitorous tears. These were rare moments for the witcher but they were very welcomed moments.

“So, I’m assuming you killed the beast.” Y/N looked expectantly at Geralt. The only answer she got from him was a grunt and a head nod.

“Oh, look at that! You got a head nod! The laughter must have buttered him up!” Jaskier’s face was morphed into faux surprise. This earned Jaskier a glare from the witcher.

Y/N rolled her eyes at the two men before speaking up. “Well, what was it? You can’t just make a big scene and not tell us what caused the whole ordeal.”

With a huff, Geralt was sitting down where Jaskier had previously sat. He then started explaining the whole situation. By the time that he was finished explaining, Jaskier was about to go into another round of laughter while Y/N was a little puzzled.

“How do you think they got there? Can you remember where the creatures are indigenous to?”

“No, I can barely remember things from back then. It was so early in my training. I know this is hard to believe but back then, I was like any other boy. I hated my lessons. I just wanted to get my work done so I could have my free time. Even if the free time I did get didn’t last long.” Geralt heard a snort from Jaskier.

A moment of silence passed. Jaskier let out a sigh. He was stoking the fire with a long stick. “Well, the job is done. Tomorrow we can collect the coin and move on.” Jaskier’s expression lit up at the thought of coin.

“I think it’s strange how none of the locals felt it important to inform Geralt that the creatures could control minds. That is a Crucial chunk of information that He could have used.” Y/N was glaring at the ground. Her eyebrows were pulled together which paired with her frown.

“I don’t think any of them really knew what was going on. I’m willing to bet that they altogether forgot the encounter. Being a witcher, my mutations could have weakened The creature’s magic.”

Looking up at Geralt, Y/N flashed him a smile. “I guess. I’m just glad that you’re okay.”

Geralt was then eyeing Y/N. He was trying to convey that he would like her to be next to him. He wouldn’t admit it but he was still a little shaken up. Her just being near him would help quell the anxiety still buzzing in his head.

It was instinctual. One moment she was looking him in the eyes and the next she was getting up and sitting right in his lap. Geralt, of course, had no problem with it. The only person who minded was the Bard.

A whine came out of the Bard as he saw what Y/N had done. “Don’t you two start anything. I don’t want to be traumatized because I witnessed you two getting It on.” As if he was imagining it, Jaskier cringed into himself.

“Calm, bard. I wouldn’t want you witnessing anything of the sort. That is only for me to see.” With that comment, Geralt felt Y/N slap him.

Looking down at her, he could see the displeased expression plastered all over her face. A smirk found its way to his lips as he lowered his head. The gentlest of kisses were placed to Y/N’s lips. She let out a small gasp while Jaskier groaned in disgust. At Jaskier’s reaction, both Geralt and Y/N chuckled.

all Geralt wanted was to stay like this forever. He had his love, his best friend, and the pleasant warm feeling in his chest. Geralt was happy truly happy.

Tags (Message me if or add yourself!):

@seb-owns-these-tatas, @dreaming-about-starfleet (I hope you don’t mind that I tagged you 😅), @scarlettwitcher

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heartsofbeskar · 3 years

Text

from the ashes

chapter 1

din djarin x oc

warnings: blood, mild violence, swearing, drinking, drug mention

words: 3.1K

excerpt: The smell of her own ship was a damn relief. Mos Eisley always seemed to leave a thin layer of stink and grime on her skin that took multiple showers to scrub off. Stepping into her shower, she began to attempt to do just that.

She indulged in some hot water, since she’d been able to pick up extra power cells in the town. Taking full advantage, she dialed the temperature high, the water nearly burning through her skin. She stood there, reveling in the ability it gave her to feel something so vividly. Even if it was pain.

(gif credit @moonaisle)

series masterlist | writing masterlist

The edge of the knife bit into her skin, and all she could think as blood welled up was how damn cold it was.

“I asked who the fuck you’re working for,” the man snarled into her ear, putting on what he no doubt imagined to be an intimidating face. She wasn’t impressed. “And why the fuck would you be snooping around Corran Felth’s personal residence?”

Her hands twitched where they were tied together tightly with cord. She cursed herself for letting this guy get the jump on her as she exited the building, assuming that she’d been too quick for anyone to take up wait in the alley.

It had been sloopy on her part, she had to admit that. And she knew why. Despite accepting the client’s down payment, she did not see this quest coming to fruition, so her heart wasn’t really in it. Though some would say she didn’t have a heart to begin with — but the pounding of her own pulse in her ears said differently.

He snarled and opened his mouth again, but she’d already decided that this was enough antics for one job. She delivered a sharp jab with the heel of her bound hands into his abdomen, leaving him gasping from the unexpected blow.

“You little bitch, I—”

As he spit his venomous words at her, she felt the pressure on her throat leave, opening her window. One of his hands tightened where it grasped in her hair, and she reached up to grab the corresponding wrist, propelling him by it into the nearby wall. When his hands left her, she grabbed him by the back of his head, smashing it into the wall a second time. There was a satisfying crack.

“Idiot,” she scoffed, lowering down to grab the knife that had left a small nick on the side of her throat. Flipping it around, she cut her hands free. If he actually knew what he was doing, he would’ve just cut off her hands instead.

She patted him down, turning out his pockets. Instant caf packets, baggies of spice, a small collection of credits… she sighed. Not what she was looking for. This was probably nothing more than a street runner — albeit a stupidly brave one.

Pocketing the knife and credits, she rose and exited the alley, pulling her collar up higher over her neck. Not that anyone on Tatooine would really bat an eye at fresh cuts — but she was nothing if not careful.

With the suns just beginning to set, the streets of Mos Eisley hummed with its seedy nightlife. The only place where someone like her, who bathed in violence and destruction, could ever really fit in.

Music poured from the ajar doors of the town cantina, and she hesitated outside of it. Hell, one more try at a lead couldn’t hurt. She had the extra credits to spare, after all.

There was an open stool at the bar against the opposite wall from the door, and she felt a few knowing pairs of eyes fall to her as she walked towards it, but she ignored them. A reputation was always an asset in her line of work, so she was content to let minds fester. The bartender eyed her weapons belt for only a second before serving her a drink happily.

The liquid burned her throat on the way down, just as she’d hoped it would. It didn’t taste particularly good, but Mos Eisley wasn’t known for its fine dining and cocktails. Moisture gathered on the outside of the drink, and she ran her index finger along the glass slowly. A scar stood out along the knuckle.

“You come here often?” A husky voice spoke up from beside her. She turned slightly, eyes roving up and down, taking in the rough man who had pulled up to the neighbouring stool. His hair was dark and seemed like it hadn’t been brushed in years, and his skin shone with grease and grime. A pretty standard Outer Rim pond hopper.

“Too often,” she muttered, bringing the drink to her lips again. “And you?”

“Ya know, I get ‘round these places every so often,” he leered at her, leaning in closer. She shifted slightly, not moving any closer but adjusting her jacket over the knife belt across her chest. “Name’s Zeth.”

“Liana,” the lie rolled off her tongue smoothly. “Ya know, I was actually supposed to meet with someone here … have you ever heard of Corran Felth?”

At the name, his eyes narrowed, but a smile played at the corner of his chapped lips. “Yea, I ‘erd of ‘im. Not any courier going through Eisley who hasn’. Now what is a pretty thing like you doing meeting a Tatooine drug lord, mm?”

She rolled her eyes, but matched the upturn of his lips with her own. “We had some business regarding some new … merchandise he was interested in market testing. I have some connections he thought might be useful. I don’t suppose you know anything about that particular economy?”

“Ah, ’fraid I really don’t,” he sighed, and she knew he was being honest as his eyes scanned the bar behind her. “Wish I could help ya, but I did hear a rumour, just between you ‘n me…”

Now she did lean in, her hand falling lightly on the edge of his wrist. She didn’t miss the way his eyes briefly flashed there. “Yes?”

He let out a breathy laugh. “Strange he agreed to meet you … rumour has it, he been off world for months. Some nasty business ‘bout a girl he knocked up who’s in with the Hutts … they were none too happy about it as you can imagine.”

She raised an eyebrow at that. “Really? You’re sure about this?”

“Listen, all I knows is he likes to take nightly scrolls through the hangar I dock in. Haven’t seen heads nor tails of him in a long while.”

Taking a long swig to finish her drink, she smiled at him, fully grasping his wrist in her hand. “Well, I’m grateful to you for saving me all that time waiting. Have a nice night, Zeth.”

He looked a bit disheartened as she turned away, but by the time his brain could even formulate a response, she was halfway towards the door.

Leaving the cantina, she rolled her eyes, kicking a stone down the street. Of course he was off world. Of fucking course.

As the hangar bay loomed in front of her, she keyed in her entry card, registered under the same name she had given Zeth. Her own ship was parking a few lanes back, nestled among some smugglers and traders, but she header for the ship she knew was waiting in the furthest back corner of the bay.

A small droid floated outside the ship. When she approached, it flashed red light at her, and she stood still as it gave a retinal scan. Upon confirming her, it gave a happy little beep, and the ramp creaked slightly as it lowered.

“Liana, my dear, I do hope you’ve brought me good news.”

A large Klatooinian stood in the hold of the ship, arms clasped behind his back. She stopped in front of him, the ramp staying open behind her. Moonlight filtered into the ship around her figure.

“I think you know I don’t, Arn,” she told him coldly. “The word around Mos Eisley is that Felth’s not even here. Hasn’t been for months now. I searched his home, dug through his logs … no mention of the strain you say he stole.”

Arn fidgeted uncomfortably. “Just because he isn’t here, doesn’t mean he can’t be holding it with his men. Did you even check the lieutenants?”

“You look me in the eyes and tell me honestly that you would trust something like this with any of your lieutenants.” She glared at him, and waited for a beat to pass. He fidgeted more. “That’s what I thought. You’d keep it close to your chest. And since there was a man stationed outside of Felth’s home, I’m very inclined to believe the local gossip that he’s gone. It was dusty enough in there.”

“So what happens now? If it wasn’t Felth, do you have anything on who actually stole from me?”

“Frankly, Arn, this job has begun to bore me. Too much Tatooine isn’t good for the soul, you know? So as per the non-recovery clause of my contract, you’ll receive a holopad of the relevant information I did find, no further payments required. I’ll be keeping your non-refundable deposit, of course.” She pulled a slim holopad out of her jacket and extended it to him. He grumbled, but took it nonetheless.

“For someone they call ‘The Finder’... along with those prices …” he continued to grumble as she turned to leave the ship. She shot a look of venom back over her shoulder, hoping it made him shiver at least a bit.

“I am the Finder, Arn. There was nothing to find.”

—

The smell of her own ship was a damn relief. Mos Eisley always seemed to leave a thin layer of stink and grime on her skin that took multiple showers to scrub off. Stepping into her shower, she began to attempt to do just that.

The hot water made the scars stand out against her reddened skin. As she washed, she catalogued them, as she often would. A long, winding, and narrow one wrapping around her right forearm. A short, jagged one sitting nearly in the centre of her chest. The one slashing diagonally across the left side of her abdomen, that disappeared below the waistline of her pants when she was dressed. And in the small mirror at her eye level, the thin but noticeable scar that ran over her blue eye, stopping just shy of her lip. Her other eye, unsettling brown in contrast, sat on her face unmarred.

She secured the towel under her arms as she settled into the pilot’s seat, turning to the comm panel. She hit the audio switch.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Miss Finder!” a deep voice boomed from the panel. “I must say, I was a tad worried you wouldn’t pick up. You’re hard to get a hold of these days.”

She smirked despite herself. Greef Karga’s jovial spirit in the face of even the seediest business always amused her.

“You’ve caught me at a good time, I suppose,” she said. “I just finished up a job, was taking a night in.”

“A very good time indeed, then! You see, I’m calling for the purposes of a job I have in mind for you!”

“You know I don’t do bounties, Karga. If I wanted to be in the Guild, I would be.”

“Of course, of course! It’s a job fully suited to your own contract, off the Guild books. For me.”

That did have her interest. Every once in a while Karga would call or even visit and try to convince her to become one his hunters, telling her it was so similar to what she did, and he had all the infrastructure. But it wasn’t the same.

“Let me guess — I have to come to Nevarro for full details?” As she spoke, her fingers traced the lower half of the scar on her face subconsciously.

“You know me too well, especially compared to how much I know you! Hell, I don’t think I even know your real name. Something about Halla just doesn’t fit your face.”

“But does it matter?”

He laughed at that. “You’ve a point there, Miss Finder — no, it does not.”

“I’ll see you when I land then.”

—

Din Djarin was a proud man, and he didn’t like to admit when he’d made mistakes. But he was starting to think he’d done just that.

Sitting on the upper portion of another damned rockface, pulse rifle beside him, he rolled the small metal ball between his fingers, as he’d done countless times. The surface of it shined. All that was left of the Razor Crest. All that was left to remind him of Grogu.

It played in an endless loop in his head, Grogu’s eyes as he was carried away from him, every nerve in his body screaming that this was wrong, wrong, wrong. They had taken his foundling, his son. And he had just stood there and watched.

He had made a mistake.

The Jedi were Grogu’s people, the ones who had been raising him before the days of the Empire, but he barely knew anything of them, and he wasn’t sure he liked what he did know. In the time since Grogu’s departure, he’d made it a mission to track down more information, but the Jedi were like ghosts in the universe. If he hadn’t met them, he wasn’t sure he would’ve even believed they were more than myth.

That was hard to do without a fucking ship, though. Which was why he was here, taking low level bounties near Nevarro, in a rental ship. Karga had been generous with him, throwing him high volumes of nearby bounties so he could earn the credits to replace what he’d lost. Still, he was barely halfway there. The pace was frustratingly slow.

Motion along the horizon pulled his attention. Stowing away the ball, he picked up his rifle, bringing the scope to eye level. A human man was rushing across the rocks, glancing behind him every few paces. It was his quarry, no doubt. Right where Din had expected him.

Sighing, he slung the rifle across his back, making his way down the rock face. By the time he’d reached the bottom, the quarry was almost upon him, but an outcropping had shielded him from view thus far. Drawing his blaster, he waited a few more beats until the man was well within range, before stepping out, levelling his weapon at the scared man’s head.

“Stop where you are,” he said shortly. The man looked up at him, wide eyed and horrified. “Put your hands where I can see them.”

“L-look man, you can have w-whatever you want, I got some credits in here—” the man scrambled to open his bag, attempting to pull out the mentioned credits, but Din didn’t let him. He fired a warning shot in the ground, just shy of the man’s left foot.

“I said, show me your hands. I don’t want your money, I’m here to collect a bounty on you.” The man sputtered even more.

“T-they sent a fucking Mandalorian after me?! I didn’t e-even think they had the c-credits for—” He was cut off again as Din fired another shot at the ground, by his right foot now.

“I’m not in a patient mood. Hands.”

The man shook as he put his hands over his head, relenting. Din pulled the cuffs from his belt, yanking the man's hands behind him as he snapped them in place. He began pushing the man in the direction of the rental ship.

“If it helps, you weren’t worth much. I’m just in a tight spot.”

—

The quarry was silent on the entire walk, though Din could see a faint outline on his pants that indicated he’d soiled himself. He almost felt bad for the guy. Almost.

The rental — the Desertwalker? No, maybe it was the Starhopper? — only had space for three carbonite chambers, so he’d have to stop on Nevarro next before chipping away further at the mountain of pucks he was sure Karga had lined up to give him. He was grateful, but also had a feeling Karga was just as happy to unload these on somebody.

After sealing the latest quarry, and his ruined pants, into a chamber, Din climbed into the tight cockpit. People had complained to him about lack of space on the Crest, but this was even worse. His knees hit the panel in front of the pilot’s seat.

He sighed, removing his helmet with a hiss, running his hand through his sweat tainted hair. As he set the course for Nevarro, he returned to contemplating the Jedi, and all the information he did have on them.

His first instinct had been to call them wizards, and honestly he still felt that was an apt description. He’d seen Grogu perform acts he could only describe as magic, moving things with his mind and healing the otherwise damned, and he was only a child. A powerful one, yes, but it begged the question of what a fully trained adult Jedi could do.

Then there were the laser swords — lightsabers. Though still no match for beskar, they were impressive, and seemed to be less of a weapon and more of an extension to their bodies. His eyes fell to the darksaber, hilted on his belt. He didn’t necessarily like carrying it around, but it felt immensely foolish to leave such a thing unguarded on a ship. Still, he much preferred his rifle and his blaster.

Beyond their powers and lightsabers, information on the Jedi was scarce. That was the core of their mythos, but any practical details seemed to have been washed from time. How did their training work? How did one graduate? Did they swear oaths? If they did, what did they entail? Din’s mind was constantly buzzing with questions that it seemed no one in the galaxy had the answers to. He felt helpless. And he fucked hated feeling helpless.

He leaned his head back against the seat, watching the characteristic vivid streaks of hyperspace fly past the window. So many stars, so many planets, and his son was on one of them, doing Maker only knows what. Without him.

He had made a mistake.

—

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rivenchu · 4 years

Text

A Curious Fish

AN: Credit for this AU goes to @mintyfrosty ~

Read the Copperight Merfolk AU post and this whole fic popped into my head as is. I may have changed a couple things to make fic-flow sense, but I hope you like it Minty! Thanks for letting me write it~ Lemme know if something is too far from your AU and not okay. :3 I’ll wider tag this / AO3 if source approved!

Summary: They say curiosity is bad for a cat and it’s true for Merfolk too. Reginald was just curious about flotsam he saw during a storm. It was only natural to get a closer look. He didn’t mean to get stuck and he certainly didn’t mean to end up on dry land where none of his kind were allowed to go.

A curious fish.

That's what everyone always called him. The elders always warned him to not be too curious, to not wander close to dry land, and more importantly never get near the the floating crafts that skimmed over the ocean. Remaining unseen from 'dry landers' was the safest choice for their colony.

He'd listened and never done any of those things, but.

But.

They never said anything about parts of the sailing ships.

Reginald watched the long stick and strange white flaps with it's many tentacles. The storm had ripped it off the adrift vessel and he followed it. It was alone, none of the beings on it (he never could see them well, they were a mystery) were nearby... long as he watched out for the tentacles he'd be fine.

Making up his mind he swam up to the far side and broke the surface. The rain didn't bother him, though he always wondered why it tasted different than regular water.

Reaching out he marveled at the texture. Slippery with strange bumps, but not slimy at all. Drifting closer he blinked at a hole and poked at it, had it been carved in? There were more leading up. Wandering further Reginald craned his neck to see how far they went. He couldn't see the end of the giant stick, but he almost could.

Just a little further.

Something curled around his tail.

Fear coiled like an eel as he ducked back underwater. He'd strayed too far up.

Just one tentacle, he could handle that. Everything would be fine.

Diving deeper so the stick wouldn't hit him (storms made the ocean surface move so much), he unwound the coarse limb and sighed. That had been close. He should go.

Turning to look up at the strange object one last time, he could barely see it against the surface. He had wanted to look at it more, maybe if he had climbed on it he could have spent longer.

Something brushed his shoulder. Jerking back Reginald's eyes widened. It was the connected multi-tentacle net. He hadn't gone that far had he? Was it the storm pushing it faster than he thought?

Twisting around he began to swim fast as possible back to the safety of the depths.

For a moment Reginald thought he made it.

He screamed as agony shot up his tail, swimming stalled. He floated dazed for a few seconds before the adrenaline kicked back in.

Wincing he glanced up at his tail, tangled again. Reaching over to yank at it he wished he didn't leave his cutter tool at home. This one was tighter, it wanted to hold. Sticking out his tongue to loosen the cord and ignore the pain he tried to work fast.

It wasn't fast enough.

He froze when he felt his back brush up against something. Looking up he realized he was drifting towards more tentacles. His tail seized up and refused to move with anything less than blinding agony.

Reginald was many things, witty and clever, curious and mischievous, but he was not known for his bravery.

Terror dulled the pain as he thrashed against the cursed coils drawing him in. He knew they weren't alive, but he could still die to them.

No one came when he called for help as the storm blew him further away from home.

Dread settled in as he grew tired. There was no way he could escape now. He was entanged and his tail hurt worse than before. He was drifting to the dry lands. Memories of the horror stories the elders told drifted across his mind.

They'll take you from the ocean to never return. They'll keep you in a water bubble to stare at you. They will never listen to you, we're just fish to them. They ate all kinds of fish up on the dry lands.

Reginald shivered and closed his eyes. He shouldn't have wandered.

~*~*~*~ That was a storm to remember. Lots of trees were down, roads were a mess, and he'd have a few days of solitude. There was much more in damages, but he didn't care enough to look into it unless he was getting paid.

Right didn't mind he liked being alone. It's why he lived out of the city and did whatever odds and ends he could to keep food on the table.

Like combing the beach for anything interesting washing up after a storm. He'd find some nice lost cargo to sell a few times and made a habit of checking.

He walked around a boulder and raised his eyebrows at a partially beached broken mast. Bad news for whatever ship it was formerly attached too. There were no boxes nearby, but he could get some use out of it surely.

Walking over he rested one foot on the mast so he could rest his elbow on his knee as he surveyed the debris. Sails seemed intact, he could sell those. Wood and rope he could keep for himself, the rope ladder could be repurposed into a net.

Not a bad find.

Nodding to himself he set to work wading into the surf at cutting a sail free. Yanking it it up to dry land he folded it up and put it in his sack. Halfway done he walked the the next and cut the top connection off.

...was that hair?

Oh, he sometimes found dead bodies too. Or bits of them. He buried any... partials and brought intact ones to the city. If it helped someone find peace, it was worth it even if he didn't get paid.

Grimacing he knelt down and lifted the sail higher.

A wave washed up to his shins and Right sighed. No reaction to the wave, no cough or sputter to show they were alive. As the water pulled back he reached down and rested a hand against the corpse's forehead. Wasn't warm, definitely dead.

New plan, use sail as temporary corpse barrier.

Cutting the last sail connection and some additional rigging he hefted the body in front of him and walked back to the beach. He was going to stop by his house first for a bite to eat. Hopefully the mast would still be around when he got back, but the less bodies were left around the better for everyone's sense of smell.

Strange he wasn't getting a whiff of decay, must have been recent.

Trekking through the woods he was familiar with he tilted his head. There was strange sound following him. If he didn't know better he would say it was someone struggling to breathe. Wildlife wouldn't get close enough to him to make that noise, there were no injured animals nearby and he was keeping company with a dead person.

It moved.

Right paused. He'd been sure the poor soul was dead but dead things don't usually move.

Swearing he broke into a jog glad he lived nearby. There was a first aid kit he could use if there was a chance of saving a survivor.

Throwing open the door he lowered the person to the floor and threw the sail off.

...

...what?

...

It had brown hair, frills on it's arms, moving gashes on it's neck, and a full blown fish tail from the waist down. The bright purple caught his attention as he stared down the length ending in the wash of warm colors fins.

It'd gotten caught in the ropes, some digging in painfully from the missing scales and red skin. No wonder it had been fine in the surf, any higher and it would have been dead already.

Movement caught his eye as it reached up to it's throat fluttered it's brown eyes.

Fish, water. Fish die out of water. Oh he made a mistake. Oh he didn't want to kill it. Oh no he wasn't near any ponds or rivers.

Scooping up the not-corpse he kicked open his bathroom and dumped it into his bathtub. In preparation of the storm he had filled it just as a precaution.

Stepping back to lean against the doorway he ran a hand up the side of his face and knocked his hat off. He'd heard stories of merpeople, never believed them of course. It seemed silly that fish people would exist but there was one right in his bathtub.

~*~*~*~

Gulping down water Reginald wanted nothing more than the curl up. His tail hurt so much, why did it feel like it was out of water? And the... water tasted funny, like rain does? He surrounded by white?

Pushing himself up with his one free elbow he looked up. The water wasn't deep, he didn't have much room to either side of him. He still had the coils trapping him. Slowly he turned over and pulled his tail into the different tasting water.

This wasn't the ocean, but maybe it was close by?

Reaching up the smooth wall he felt air and curled his hand around the edge and pulled himself up to look around.

It was mostly brown, bit of red on a normal looking face, but it was just there on dry land. It was on dry land. It was a dry lander. Pushing back as far he could in the tub Reginald screamed.

Dry lander made a noise and fell out of the room.

Reginald screamed again.

He was tired, hungry, in pain, and trapped. No matter what angle you looked at it from, this was bad. He was never going to get away now. Looking around the room he swallowed, was this where they kept fish for awhile?

Actually... he didn't want to look right now.

Sinking back into the water he curled in the corner and trembled. He... wasn't going to get out of this was he?

~*~*~*~

Clutching his chest, Right wheezed. That was far louder than he expected, not that he had an idea of what to expect from a mythical creature in his bathroom. He jerked away from the bathroom door at the second screech.

Well, he wasn't going to town now. Not sure what to do.

Guess he could fold up the sail, that was something he could do while his brain was reeling from his new discovery.

Merpeople existed. Science types would love to study it, nobles would want to showcase it, and who knows what criminals would do to it.

Right sat down on the floor staring at the folded sail.

It didn't seem right. There had been fear on it's face, and if he thought about it that was fair. Waking up in a strange place with someone staring at you would spook anyone. Plus it was still tangled up.

That he could help with.

Grabbing a knife he stared at it, on the other hand he'll look pretty scary. Nothing new there, people found him intimidating even if he was minding his own business.

Intentions would get across when it realized it wasn't getting stabbed. Better be quick.

Stalking into the room he winced at expected scream but didn't stop. "Not gonna hurt ya."

It didn't believe him, eyes widening more as it turned to flee out the tub. What it hoped to accomplish beyond that was questionable considering the lack of water.

"No you don't." Reaching over he caught a rope and pulled it back over the tub. He took a deep breath as he heard distressed whimpers. It couldn't reach him with it's free arm.

He felt guilty for trying to help now. Maybe he should have waited, but he was committed now.

" 'm just gonna cut the ropes." he sighed and started to saw carefully. He didn't want to injure it if it made any sudden movements. Instead it hung there defeated, which he decided was worse. When the rope snapped it fell back into the tub and he stepped back just in case it attacked. Cornered beings tended to be unpredictable and fierce.

Instead the brown eyes broke surface and stared at him. Scanning.

Yeah, bit smarter than an animal, they would have gone back to panic. This was questioning and uncertain.

" 'm gonna cut some in front. Yah should be able t' get most of it off unless it's on there good." Right stood there and watched for a reaction. Maybe it didn't speak, that would make sense. Different culture and.. talking mediums? How would someone talk underwater?

Walking back up to the tub Right paused to see if it would try to flop out in fear again.

It was just warily watching.

Reaching down slowly Right watched for any sudden movement - he didn't want to get bit or hit with that tail.

Grabbing a knot he lifted it out of the water so he could better look at the mess. It was actually impressive how it managed to tie itself. A cool grip on his hand caused him to look up as it lightly held his wrist and it bit it's lip. Understandably nervous, but he had ropes to cut.

This time when he cut through and it dropped back into the water he walked to the far side of the room to put the knife down. Space while it worked itself free.

Water sloshed over the edge in the next five minutes as it worked to freedom. Finally a mass of ropes was thrown over the edge, with a single line running back to the tub.

Before he could say anything the vibrant tail shakily waved out of the water, the last rope tangled near the base of fins. Grimacing Right walked forward to look at it. That would leave a scar, maybe the back fin would heal.

Fetching his knife he reached out almost touching the tail before looking down. It was watching him again. Taking this as an affirmative he lightly grasped the tail and started making small cuts. The rope was wound tight and the wound already painful, he didn’t want to make it worse.

After a few minutes the rope fell away and he let go of the tail. It sunk out of sight and the merperson stayed submerged. Fair, poor thing had a rough time of it lately.

Gathering the rope he walked out and left the knife in his sink. Sitting down he ate an apple as he pondered his new situation. He had an injured merperson in his house. He had helped it after almost killing it by dragging it away from water.

Merpeople were real and he had one in his bathtub still.

~*~*~*~

Laying at the bottom of the white shell Reginald rubbed his right arm. He was glad to be free of the deadly coils, but his tail was still painful. He was still stuck, but the dry lander hadn't hurt him. It could have done so easily.

He was still alive. Plus he felt pain down to his fins, so it wasn't as bad as one of the elders who couldn't move their tail anymore nor feel it. It would heal in time.

Wrapping fingers around the edge of container he pulled himself up and looked around. There were so many things he knew nothing about. What were they used for? Did all dry landers live in places like this?

Crossing his arms on the edge Reginald rested his head as he let his mind wander with questions.

The dry lander stopped at the door and was staring at him. There was something he was dragging behind him.

Pulling his arms back into the water he blinked up at the other. The brown layers were strange and moved funny, like a covering? Why would they need a covering?

"Not sure if you'll like smoked fish, but thought yo might be 'ungry." Walking in the dry lander held out a fish within easy grabbing distance.

He was starving. Taking the fish he sighed, he... was being rude. The other had done nothing but help him and deserved a proper response.

"Thank you." He missed the stunned expression on the dry lander's face as he tore into the funny smelling fish. The flavour was concentrated, with something he had never tasted before!

"Y-you're welcome." Taking a seat the dry lander still looked dazed at the new discovery. Merpeople could talk.

"Uh... want another?" A second fish was offered.

"Please." Accepting the fish it disappeared as quickly as the first.

"My name is Right." He held out a hand to his formerly-mythic-but-totally-real guest

Glancing down at the extended hand then back up Reginald held out his hand with a tentative smile, "Reginald, it's nice to meet you Right."

Of course a merperson wouldn't know about shaking hands. A smile crept up on Right's face, "It's good to meet you too Reginald."

#mintyfrosty

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maatryoshkaa · 4 years

Text

young god | chapter 13

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11| 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | epilogue |

word count: 3.5k

warnings: foul language, implied sexual assault, mentions of trauma and mental illness

description: Yang Jeongin, the only living witness of the Miroh Heights Murders, is finally awake, casting a new shadow of possibilities onto the entire investigation. Han Jisung knows deep down there’s only one place left to go, and takes his chances with a familiar blond detective -- but they find that where chances are given, lives may be taken away.

watch the trailer here!

13| give and take.

They say when you have a close brush with death, you see your life flash before your eyes.

Jeongin supposed there was some truth to that. One moment he had been squinting at the golden-haired boy in the darkness; the next he had found himself collapsed against the forest floor. The sky had spun above him like a broken kaleidoscope, until the unbearably hot throbbing in his head had finally forced his eyes shut. He had felt the strength seeping from his limbs, like blood being drained from livestock, and had let the numbness wash over him like an icy tidal wave.

That was when Jeongin’s life had flashed behind his closed eyelids — choppy flashes of memories and people’s voices, warped and dizzying.

“Life in prison?” Jeongin’s own voice sounded tinny in his ears, and his father gave him a sad smile on the other side of the plexiglass. “B-but all you did was—”

“A man lost his life because of me,” his father spoke slowly, eyes steady on Jeongin’s distraught face. Slow, steady, careful. Kind. That was how Jeongin had always known his father — a gentle man who wouldn’t hurt a fly — yet now he was sitting across from him in an inmate’s uniform, handcuffs locked tight around his wrists.

“But he—he hurt Mum first,” Jeongin whispered, barely able to push the words out of his throat. “He—you said he—”

“He did.” His father’s face had darkened, his normally soft jaw clenched. “I...lost it, and what happened to him was what that bastard deserved — but nothing changes the fact that I...killed him.” He let out a deep, weary sigh, and Jeongin was suddenly struck by how much older his father looked. “He got his punishment for his sins one way, and now I’m paying for mine. It’s as simple as that, my boy.”

The buzzer sounded and the door behind him clicked open, a stone-faced officer stepping into the room as his father stood. “Take good care of your mother, would you?”

“Dad, if—” Jeongin’s shaking voice made his father turn back around. The question was odd, but it had been burning at the back of his mind since the beginning of the visit. “If you—had the chance to go back. Would you still have...done it?”

Silence fell between father and son like a curtain. His father inhaled deeply, raising his eyebrows before meeting his son’s eyes again. “I don’t doubt it,” he finally replied, voice soft. “What could I do? It was for someone I loved.”

From then on, Jeongin’s mother had spent the better years of her life working whatever job she could find, and the two of them lived off minimum wage and money sent by estranged relatives — until the poor woman had finally fallen ill. No one would hire a sickly old woman — especially not one that had been involved in a sexual assault case, all those years ago.

That was why Jeongin worked with four different delivery companies at a time; that was what he could never bring himself to tell Hyunjin or you. Work four jobs, graduate, and make proper money to pay his mother’s hospital bills, to dig himself out of the poverty he’d known his entire life. Yang Jeongin’s one-way, masterplan. Until…

The coma.

He had become almost comfortably numb, like a body submerged in the middle of a pond — yet occasionally, something would pull him above the surface, even if just for a brief moment. A voice, a pressure, a light. It was almost always Hyunjin, the soft-hearted barista talking to him about his day as if Jeongin had simply sat down to chat in Glow Cafe, not rendered immobile and unresponsive by a concussion. Sometimes, though, the older boy would be crying, silent sobs shaking his lean frame until he was so exhausted he’d fall asleep by Jeongin’s side. And Jeongin wanted nothing more than to reach out to reassure him, to pull his friend into a hug, but he couldn’t will his body to move no matter how hard he tried.

Until now.

An incessant high-pitched beeping was growing louder and louder, the tips of his fingers prickling. Jeongin’s heartbeat surged into his temples, pounding against his eardrums like fists demanding entry. The darkness behind his eyelids was shifting, pinpricks of light poking their way in — and like a breath of air had been knocked straight into his lungs, Jeongin felt his entire body lurch forward and his eyes shot open.

For several seconds he could only take deep, gasping breaths, obsessed with just the feeling of it all, vaguely registering the inhaler pressed against his mouth. His eyes were still adjusting, flashes of white light and black stars painting his blurry vision. There were shouts from all around him, a deep rumbling as everything seemed to shake.

It was as if the entire sky was falling above him, he thought vaguely.

He blinked, hard, and his vision finally focused, the incongruous voices and sounds growing clearer. The incessant beeping had been the heart monitor by his cot, keeping in time with his gasping breathing. And the yelling was coming from none other than Hwang Hyunjin, whose dark hazel eyes were wide with disbelief and already brimming with tears of shock.

“J-Jeongin? He’s — he’s awake,” the taller boy nearly tripped getting to his feet, yanking aside the curtains and disappearing from Jeongin’s sight. “He’s awake!”

Jeongin winced, a throbbing pressure beginning to press at his skull. His fingers twitched twice and he flexed them gingerly. Suddenly remembering, his hands weakly scrabbled for his pockets, desperately feeling for a familiar metal box but coming back empty.

His Walkman was gone.

The deep rumbling passed by him again and he realised it was the sound of carts full of medical equipment speeding across the halls — like there had been yet another emergency. Jeongin could only make out some of what the hospital staff were saying as they rushed past.

“Stab wound to the chest...brought her in...no sight of him.”

Jagged fragments of his memory were coming back to him, the empty feeling in his chest beginning to fill with a sinking sense of dread. The strange boy. A dismembered corpse.

What on earth happened while I was out?

━━━━━━━━

Run.

Jisung’s feet slammed into the pavement, puddles splashing cold rainwater onto his bloodstained jeans.

“He’s a runner, that’s what he is.”

His chest was burning, ribs feeling as if they were closing in on his lungs. He could still feel your warm body pressed against his, widened eyes fluttering shut as he could only watch in horror. With strength Jisung didn’t know he had left, he had carried you in his arms and bolted into the alley just as the police had turned into the diner’s back lot. The hospital was only a block away. He had burst into the lobby, nearly collapsing as he shouted for someone, anyone to help — and nearby, stunned doctors had loaded you onto an empty gurney before whisking you into the emergency room. Once they returned, Jisung was long gone.

“You ran away from her, too, yeah?”

The gang’s taunting voices echoed in his head, the sky rumbling above him — just like how his father’s voice had always rumbled, shaking the thin walls of his childhood home. And now, Jisung was ten years old all over again, clutching his camcorder in his bloodstained hands.

There had been a fine layer of dust coating the dented metal when Jisung had seized it from his dorm closet. Just touching the metal made his hands slippery with cold sweat, but he forced himself to grip it harder, counting the memory cards before he took off. Running, one last time.

“Try running now, Han.”

He wasn’t running away.

If he wanted to reverse the horrible things he’d done, there was only one place left to go.

“Han Jisung, always running away.”

“Not this time,” Jisung breathed through gritted teeth, almost welcoming the way the falling rain burned at his eyes and nostrils. “Not anymore.”

━━━━━━━━

Bang Chan didn’t realize how long he had been pacing the room until his feet began to ache in protest.

The detective hadn’t left the police precinct since Woojin had called him over, the pair pulling out files and chasing leads from dawn till dusk. Kim Seungmin had popped in for several hours before he had been called back to the law office. The moon had come and gone, until telltale sirens sounded not long after noon, and Woojin was called onto the scene of yet another emergency.

Another hour or so had passed since then, and Chan was replaying the same conversation with the police chief over and over in his head.

“I didn’t want to believe it, Chan, but from the beginning I had this—this feeling—”

“A hunch,” Chan finished, and when the police chief looked hesitant, Chan continued, “is almost always based on something more concrete, whether you know it or not. Something familiar, or strange. We’ve hit all the dead ends; a hunch is one of the better things we can hope for right now.”

Woojin exhaled, then spoke slowly. “The victims’ backgrounds, how they’ve all had pasts connected to abuse, or adultery. Not to mention the modus operandi that stood out the most — you remember the fire, and numerous counts of brute force.”

“I thought something was familiar, too,” Seungmin had interjected, his brow furrowing. “I studied this...case back in law school — a shotgun marriage, their young son growing up in an abusive household, until one day —”

“The house went up in flames,” Woojin finished, nodding. “It’s the same case, the most infamous amongst domestic abuse cases in Miroh Heights. The names were withheld for privacy reasons. Though the case was closed over a decade ago...the accuracy of the final verdict, and the true events that transpired that night, are still unknown.”

“Victims of cold cases often reappear as suspicious persons,” Chan muttered. “It’s a reach, but if you look at the similarities...”

“We’ve been blindsided this entire time,” Seungmin said slowly, his fingers raking through his hair. “Not a substance abuser, quite possibly not a cold-blooded killer.” He looked up at Woojin, whose brow was furrowed in deep thought. “So if your hunch is correct, then—”

“This is the aftereffect of a cold domestic violence case from over a decade ago,” the young police chief said firmly, eyes flickering up to Chan. “And we can’t afford to let it slip away again.”

Something had been pricking at the back of the detective’s head since Woojin had begun talking — no, far before he had even arrived at the police station. Chan had always been known for having a quick mind; it was one of the things that separated him from other, more mediocre detectives in his field — but this time, something was blocking him from reaching the final conclusion. He didn’t lack evidence; there were no flaws in his logic. It was the horrible feeling of familiarity that made him choke, that forced him to hesitate. Because he knew this case, he had seen it before.

“And it’s not a reach, Detective,” Woojin continued, voice gentle but eyes firm. “Because I believe you know the story yourself.”

Seungmin turned towards Chan, eyes questioning. The detective shook his empty coffee cup in his hands, eyes skirting over the countless case files and papers they had been sifting through for hours.

“The perpetrator is—”

A blond boy burst into the dimly lit room, breathing so hard Chan thought he was about to have a stroke. It didn’t take longer than a second for the detective to recognise him.

“Han Jisung,” Chan finished the flashback aloud, the name hanging in the tense air. His eyes scanned the shaking boy from head to toe, a cold feeling running down his spine. He wasn’t even trying to hide the blood soaking his clothes and skin, Chan thought numbly. This was his friend, someone he’d always looked at like a little brother—but he had seen, solved too many of these cases not to recognise the stricken look on Jisung’s pale face.

This was the shell of a man who had just lost everything.

“What brings you here?” Chan asked, watching him carefully. The same tousled golden hair, he noted, pushing down a pang in his chest; the same boyish round cheeks, although there was a smattering of bruises and cuts across them now.

“You told me I—I could talk to you or Woojin. Anytime.” Jisung’s voice faltered, wiping at his face as if to clear away some of the muck, but the dried blood on his palms only smeared more across his jaw. He looked like a lost dog, a stray that had turned up on the nearest warm doorstep and was watching him with almost apologetic, apprehensive eyes.

Chan set down his notebook, nodding slowly. “That I did,” he finally replied, glancing back up at the younger boy before pulling out two chairs. “Woojin got called to a scene, though. You okay if I listen for now?”

Jisung felt a flood of indescribable emotions wash over him. The same twist in his gut he had felt back at the 3rd Eye, when the Chan had pulled him close and asked if he was okay.

I’ll listen.

That was more than anyone had ever offered him since the incident thirteen years ago. The therapists, the police, the social workers — all they had ever wanted was for him to listen to them, to heed their advice and bury his past behind him.

Other than you, of course. The memory of your fading eyes burning into his own shook him back to the present.

“I think you know, Chan,” Jisung said softly, marking the way the detective was warily scanning the blood covering him from head to toe; the dishevelled look Jisung must have had on his face.

“I have a hunch,” was the detective’s reply. He sounded as if he were repeating someone else’s words, but his voice was steady as it had ever been. “But you’re going to need to help me on this one, kiddo.”

Jisung met the older boy’s eyes — Chan’s always tired but unfailingly kind eyes, always willing to give the benefit of the doubt. Maybe that was what made him such a meticulous detective, respected by criminals and citizens alike — never jumping to conclusions, always seeing a problem out till the end. The detective’s gaze dropped to the silver camcorder in Jisung’s hands.

“You used to carry that around everywhere you went, I remember. Never showed anyone what you’d film, though.”

“Do you have...anything that can play memory cards?” Jisung swallowed a painful lump in his throat. “I need to—show you. Now.”

Wordlessly, Chan moved his laptop over on the table, and made the younger boy take a seat next to him.

Jisung had always thought his past was something to be kept buried — below the ashes of his childhood home, or six feet under his mother’s grave, or bottled deep within his chest. That no one would ever truly know — would want to know — what had happened that day, let alone what had been happening for the years leading up to that day. And yet, for the second time in two days, he was sat next to someone who, to his surprise, didn’t make him want to run. Someone he was willing to take the risk of revealing the darkest parts of himself with.

For the next hour, Chan watched the footage in silence, from the very first Christmas to the day Jisung’s father’s mistress had pressed burning cigarettes into his bare skin. From the fateful day their entire home was brought to the ground with alcohol and fire at the hands of a ten year old boy, and to the choppy records from the years that followed. Jisung had taped his encounters with the incompetent officers and dismissive social workers at the police station, and the mandatory therapy sessions they had subjected him to. He had taped the kidnapping, and his years at the children’s home with Minho.

He had not taped any of the killings.

Chan sat through it all, reliving Jisung’s nightmares the way the younger boy had every night for the past thirteen years, an ugly childhood told through the fisheye lens of an old camcorder. By the time the last tape had finished, the detective had not moved, but Jisung knew him well enough to catch the tension in his jaw, the shaken look in his normally bright eyes.

“You were the cold case,” Chan finally said, a long exhale leaving his now-dry lips. “From thirteen years ago. The one they couldn’t solve, and swept under the rug.”

Jisung didn’t respond, too busy forcing every inch of his body to remain still — to not stand and sprint out of the room, out of the police station he had been avoiding his entire life.

“Why are you telling me this?” The detective asked, turning his body to face the younger boy.

“Because I—I killed—all those people,” Jisung wove his hand towards the files Chan had splayed onto the desk, the headshots of victims lying at the very top. The words were heavier than weights in his mouth, and and the truth of it all tasted more bitter than poison. “And then I—I couldn’t stop. I sound insane, I know I do. I know I p-probably am. They were—flashes at first. Triggers, seizures that went too far. And soon it became like--like an impulse, until I started blacking out completely—” Jisung’s breathing caught up to him and he choked, but he managed to force the last words out. “And today, I...hurt...y/n.” He saw the alarm flash across Chan’s eyes. “The last person who made me hope...made me want to hope that life was worth living, after all.”

He sounded insane.

He sounded like a serial killer trying to make excuses for something inexcusable.

He sounded like a monster.

“You sound like you’ve been through a lot.” Chan’s voice made Jisung look up from his shoes. The soft look in his eyes was back, and though a bit of the blood had drained from his face, the warmth in his voice had never left. “Thank you. For telling me.”

That was the final blow.

“S-stop. Don’t—say that,” Jisung could feel his voice breaking, the tears burning at his throat. “Chan, you have to turn me in, make them give me the death penalty, I-I—”

“Han Jisung.” The detective’s voice was stern, his normally gentle eyes narrowed. “You turned yourself in. The case from thirteen years ago needs to be reopened, and all the factors reinvestigated to be fairly taken into account. You do not deserve the death penalty.”

Jisung was shaking his head numbly, lips unable to form protests as the detective continued, a blazing look in his eyes Jisung had never seen before. “You’re not gonna be a martyr now, you hear? Han Jisung, you’ve been hurt by everyone else your whole damn life. I’m not about to let you hurt yourself.”

There it was again. That feeling of unfamiliar warmth aching deep in his chest, like an old bruise being pressed into. Before Jisung could speak, a slow, sarcastic clapping echoing through the room made both of them raise their heads and turn in alarm.

Prosecutor Kang pushed the door aside, eyebrows raised in amusement and mock sympathy.

“What are—you can’t—” Chan leapt up from his seat, but Kang only looked more amused as he looked over his shoulder at the open doorway, where a huddle of prosecutors and police officers alike were gathered with expressions of horror. Seungmin was among them, his face white.

“You all heard him, didn’t you? Detain the murderer.” Kang smiled triumphantly as the officers surrounded Jisung, seizing his arms so roughly he felt like they were being pulled from their sockets.

Chan looked livid, eyes darting wildly between the officers and Prosecutor Kang. “Let him go. Keep him in the precinct until Woojin comes back, Kang,” he protested, but the older prosecutor only sneered.

“Detective Bang, aren’t you overstepping your boundaries? Wait for Kim Woojin? Don’t forget—” Kang took a step closer to Chan, eyes narrowing. “Personal relations with the perpetrator cannot participate in the investigation.”

Chan felt his gut twist, scanning the whitened expressions on the surrounding staff’s faces. How much had they seen, overheard? Kang watched the detective’s eyes flicker momentarily, and laughed.

“Besides,” he continued, “I’d say it’s time the prosecution did its part.” He shot a meaningful glance at Seungmin, who had been glaring between Jisung, Chan, and Kang with his fists clenched. Kang clicked his tongue, sighing. “Kim Seungmin, Kim Seungmin — I can’t believe I have to do your dirty work.”

Chan’s mind was reeling, all options coming back blank. This was the District 9 Precinct, and as a homicidal detective, he had no power over Woojin’s men. In fact, after what Kang had said, Chan wasn’t even sure if Woojin had power over Woojin’s men anymore. You fucked up, Bang. You fucked up bad.

Chan risked a glance at Jisung’s face and immediately regretted it. What he saw had no traces of anger, no more hate, no signs of struggle. His eyes were wide and dark, as if the boy had shut down completely. Kang scoffed at the detective’s sudden silence, turning on his heel and motioning towards the officers.

Chan could only watch helplessly as Jisung was dragged out of the room like a limp doll, his once-rounded cheeks still shining with blood and fresh tears.

687 notes · View notes

alirasworlds · 3 years

Text

Our Life: Cast my home aside, lead me into the skies....

(A/N: Still working on if I’m going to have Eve have a custom backstory different from the background given in game, buuut, this can be a AU thing if I go with base game MC for Eve’s background! Our Life and all characters besides Eve belong to @gb-patch !)

(P.S. Since I am able to insert myself so much into the MC of OL, for this Eve has... Part of my own background, not fully cause I’ve not done what she did here, but still. Be warned Eve’s not coming from a nice household prior to being adopted by Pamela and Noelani. Also, this is sort of my take on the first scene in OL with Eve having a custom background, also to help me figure out how to write Eve with that context.)

-----------------------------------------

Aching, the little eight year old felt every limb and bone of hers aching as she trekked further into the town she found.

Her backpack was lighter than when she started her journey, snacks, drink and food she packed having been long since eaten or drank by her, that didn’t mean she didn’t get more as she....

Ran, she supposed.

Much to her growing guilt she had taken water bottles and any food she could find from any table or picnic blanket she came across, either packing it away in her backpack or outright eating or drinking it due to how hungry she was.

She was certain she was dirty as heck(even if she washed herself in ponds or the rain as best she could) and she could feel her ribs at this point if she pushed her fingers against her skin enough, hair much longer than she liked, but she still refused to turn back.

She still remembered that night that made her pack her backpack and run. Shouting, screaming, a BAM, another hole in the walls, nothing she did could ever-

And no one cared she was all alone-

She sniffled, forcing the thought out of her mind. She honestly didn’t know where she was at this point, she just picked a direction and ran that way.

All she really knew was it had been winter when she set out, or near it, then it became spring and now was summer, the heat in the air told her that much.

Anything else other than that she didn’t know.

Huffing a puff of air, she pulled her brush out of her pocket and brushed her hair, a habit she still had and when she looked in the reflection of a puddle, she was a bit proud she looked really decent despite not having had a proper home for what was likely months.

Sure she was a touch messy, but no one would take a look at her and immediately think she had run away from her old home.

She continued walking, looking for an alcove or awning or something to rest under for the night, only to pause as she saw a person sitting on the curb in front of a house. He was sitting with his head in his hands, his whole body slumped over.

She tilted her head, confused a bit as why was an adult was sitting on the curb, did someone kick him out of his house?

She noted a… Tattoo, she thinks that was the term, on the arm that was facing her, pitch black against his tan skin, it looked like a sea creature, but she didn’t know what it was. His pale blond hair was pulled into a ponytail it seemed, like she tended to have her hair now that it grew out so much.

Though he wasn’t really in her way, she could walk around him if needed, she felt…. Nervous. Yeah, that was the term she was pretty sure, so she wanted to sneak around him unseen, but how….

She felt her gut lurch when he suddenly shifted and there was a brief moment where their eyes met before she quickly averted her gaze to look at a bird that was hovering nearby.

“Hey!” Drat, he noticed her and there was no mistaking her startled jump showed she heard him.

The bird landed on a nearby gatepost, its black feathers ruffling gently in the breeze. She couldn’t keep her gaze on it when the man got up and began making his way to her, making her eye him warily.

She had run from more than a few police people who tried to approach her, fearing they were going to make her go back and was more than ready to run if needed, he didn’t look like a policeman though.

Since he didn't seem to be like any of those sternfaced police people, she offered a polite smile and he grinned back at her.

“Do you live around here?” He asked once he was in front of her, kneeling to be on even eyelevel with her. “What’s your name?”

She felt a spike of panic shoot through her system at his questions. The first one was easy to answer, as from what she could tell unless she turned around she’d meet the ocean like she did earlier(and found a fair amount of shells and sea stuff she couldn’t help but put in one of her backpacks pockets), and frankly she was done walking so much, so, she could stay here.

As for her name…. That damned name….. She had heard more than once that with a name as unique as her birth name, it would never be hard finding her, same went for her last name.

She didn’t WANT to be found though. She didn’t want to go back.

She looked the mystery man up and down as she tried to think of an answer to give him, taking in his tanned skin and relaxed appearance. Well, only partially relaxed. At least his clothes were relaxed; the way he was acting certainly wasn’t.

He had sharks on his shorts and that sea creature tattoo, and she wondered if he was obsessed with the ocean or something.

While she made her assessment, he looked at her expectantly, waiting for an answer to his questions.

“...Yeah, I live around here.” She answered after a moment, trying to think of any name to give him other than her birthname, running through the very few stories she heard growing up.

Hermione? No, she didn’t know how to spell that. Alice? No…. Belle? Not that one either.

“And my name is, Eve.” She decided to go with the name she remembered from that book her birth parents got from the religion they were a part of. It was three letters, and simple enough she knew how to spell it and there was no difficulty like with her birthname in how it was said or spelled.

“Great! Nice to meet you, Eve.” He gave her a broad smile, relief settling on his features. He then reached into a pocket and pulled out a twenty dollar bill, it crinkled in his hand as he held it up to her.

She furrowed her brow at him in confusion, looking between him and the money with the pure confusion only a child could have.

“Well… Could you do me a favor?” He asked, but then realized he should probably explain better than that and rushed to add. “Nothing bad! Sorry, I should have…. Let me start over.”

He cleared his throat, straightening his back a bit before explaining. “I have a son-his name is Cove-who’s just about your age.”

She tilted her head, Cove…. That was not a name she heard before, it sounded… Nice. She never met anyone with that name.

“We moved in across the street. See?” He pointed across the street to the house opposite the one they were standing in front of.

She nodded, looking back to him with confusion as he continued.

“I don’t know where your parents are, I don’t think I’ve met them, but you look around his age, so…” He shook the twenty dollar bill to bring it back to her attention, a hopeful smile tilting his lips at the corners. “Can you try to be friends with the boy? Just give it a chance and you can keep this! He’s a good kid. You’ll like him.”

He… Was wanting to pay her to be friends with his son?

“But you’ve gotta keep it a secret, too, okay?” He winced. “It wouldn’t be friendly to say his dad sent you.”

She blinked, feeling a bit sorry for the boy she hadn’t even met yet. This was not the normal way kids made friends, her limited exposure to anyone outside of the Hall didn’t stop her from knowing that.

“What’d’ya say? Want to make a deal?” He asked, watching her as she thought about it.

She was conflicted, sure she could likely use that money to get better clothes, food even than what she was now used to dealing with, but……

….She wanted to meet this Cove without the lure of money, and she knew she’d get looks if she wandered into a store with a twenty dollar bill without any parent with her.

So, she shook her head no. “No, I don’t want to be paid for that.” She then raised her hands in a placating way as she saw him deflate a bit. “But…. I do want to meet Cove, he sounds nice.”

He nodded, seeing his initial strategy wasn’t going to fly and tucked the bill back in his pocket as he stood up. “Would you be more comfortable with he and I coming by for a normal visit? No money involved.”

She nodded, then paused and added. “And I can come over as well.”

She didn’t want to mention that she currently did not have a home, or parents, no, that’d… no. Just no. No risking them sending her back, no.

His smile got bigger again. His eyes crinkled at the sides. “I’ll bring him by tomorrow or you can come over. I wanted him to meet and greet with the neighbors today, but…” He hesitated before admitting. “Well, I don’t know where he’s gotten off to!”

Well, that’s… Concerning. Cove’s dad had laughed when he said that, but with the way his face looked Eve thought he actually wanted to cry instead.

“I’ll help find him.” She said without hesitation, puffing up a bit with a grin.

He seemed a bit relieved at her words. “If-If you see him, can you tell him to come on home? He’s got a pink cast and glasses, you can’t miss it.”

She nodded, this definitely was not the normal way kids made friends, but she was still going to help.

He smiled and reached over to pat her on the head, paused before doing so, then pulled his hand away instead.

“I’ve already got the neighbors in the house besides us checking around, such a thoughtful group, they are.” He gestured to the house they were in front of before smiling. “Now I better go look, too! Can’t put everyone else to work while I keep sitting here. I thought he might come back, and…” he shook his head. “That’s not what’s important. I have to go.” he gave her another grin. “Thanks again, Eve! So much.”

He jogged off down the street without another word, leaving Eve to think to herself on where Cove could have gone.

If he was anything like her, he likely would have gone somewhere adults wouldn’t think to look first, and while she doubted he ran away like she did, that same logic she used could help her find him.

She decided to go behind the house she was in front of, finding a series of hills with flowers stretching out before her as the sun fully descended into the horizon.

She couldn’t recognize the type of flower, especially now at this time without the sun to provide the majority of the light, though she thought they looked nice from what the moon could illuminate.

The chirping of crickets in the tall grass greeted her, a familiar sound from her traveling that eased her nerves a touch as she wandered to the top of a hill.

From the top of the hill she could see the ocean. As she walked, she listened to the crash of the waves on the shore, and the seagulls squawking as they settled down for the night as she peered around.

Idly, she remembered loving hearing stories about the merfolk and sea serpents and anything else she could imagine living far beneath the waves. Maybe now that she was near the ocean she’d get lucky enough to see one at some point.

She sighed as she came to a stop. She wasn't sure what, but something told her that she wasn't alone, so she glanced around warily, only to nearly jump when she turned to her right.

There was a boy sitting at the top of the hill she was standing on, almost completely hidden within the long grass and white flowers surrounding him.

He didn’t seem to notice her, probably just that he wasn't paying attention, his head was buried in his knees, staring ahead by himself.

She watched him for a few moments, feeling as if she found a deer in the wild, although….

‘Deer don’t have sad frowns, or green hair...’ She thought to herself, expression furrowing at the thought, She wondered what upset him to cause him to look like that….

After a few more seconds, she took a step forward, then another. And then he glanced her way, making her freeze.

His aquamarine eyes reflected the light of the moon. Eve stopped, raising a hand to acknowledge him and show him that she wasn’t scary.

Even if she likely didn’t look like a normal kid with her backpack on and likely mussed up hair.

“Heyo.” She greeted him.

With a start, he jumped to his feet, his hands balling into fists at his sides. He didn't say anything, just stared at her in a strange way.

He'd been crying. There were traces of tears on his cheeks and his knees, soaking the hem of his shorts, and his eyes were still shining with a few more.

She restrained wincing, or hugging him on reflex to sooth him. She had obviously caught him off guard.

His pink cast seemed to glow in the twilight, though when he caught her staring at it, he hid his arm behind his back.

Hmm. could this be….

“Cove?” She said his name cautiously, watching his reaction to see if she was correct.

“Ah-” She was, as his eyes widened and he studied her. “How'd you know that?”

Well, no use hiding it. She shrugged. “I met your dad.”

“Oh.” He frowned. ”So... is this your hill?” He gestured with his uninjured arm to the patch of grass surrounding them both, his face falling at the prospect. “I can leave if it is.”

She shook her head, she didn’t own it, especially since she just arrived in town today.

“Oh.” He sat back down with a thump, resting his chin on his knees again.

Curious about the strange boy with the odd dad, and not having anything else to do or wanting to leave him, she sat down on the patch of grass next to him.

The pure white flowers that covered this hill rocked back and forth gently as the stars twinkled above. The way they dotted the sky made them seem like the flowers around them too.

The silence didn’t last long, as she then asked softly. “Why are you hiding here?”

A quiet hiccup escaped Cove as soon as she asked the question. Almost like they'd never stopped, his tears started up again with a vengeance.

She almost immediately retracted her question, but Cove spoke up before she could. ”My parents… They don't want to live together with me anymore.” The tears kept coming as he continued. “My mom made my dad leave and he took me with him and now we have a house here and I want to go home!”

The outburst took her off-guard. By the time he was done, Cove's chest was heaving with exhaustion.

He sniffled and removed his glasses, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand before he put them back on again. “...I hate this place. I want my real life back. I want my mom.”

Eve frowned, unsure how to calm him down and chewed on her cheek in thought. To an extent, she did understand where he was coming from, but….

She also wouldn’t go back if she could help it, she didn’t want to go back to that…. Hell.

“I’m sorry….” Was all she could say, and hoped it helped somewhat. He slipped his hands underneath his glasses and pressed his fingers against his eyelids. Cove wound himself up again for another long crying fit.

She felt bad for him, being forced to come here with no choice at all. She could and had lived without both of her parents for months now, but to have no choice but to be with one or the other…

The mere idea made her crumple internally and she immediately decided she hated that very thought.

She jolted when, from way off in the distance, came the shouts of several adults.

”Cove!” That was Cove’s dad, she recognized the voice.

“Kid, where did you go?” That was a woman’s voice, Eve didn’t recognize it.

Cove looked at her, tears still clinging to his cheeks. ”Don't tell them we're here!”

He sniffled. “I don't want to go back to that house. I wanna go home.”

"....It will be okay!" She found herself saying, struck by a sudden need to reassure Cove. Her expression twisted as she continued. “It... It's not gonna all be fun. But, he- isn't he your family too?”

“Yeah... I guess.” Cove nodded and she felt emboldened to continue.

“Then you can count on him when you really, really need him!” She shot him a grin, and pushed herself to her feet.

...Even if Eve could never count on her own family anymore, it didn’t mean he couldn’t count on his dad.

Slowly, Cove stood up with her, still looking a little reluctant. His dad's voice rang out again.

“Cove! Can you hear me?”

He looked toward the sound of his dad's voice, silent, then turned away while rubbing his not bandaged arm. “...Sorry. I still don't want to go.”

She frowned before whispering to him quietly so the adults didn’t hear her. “It’s alright, I get that.”

He turned back to her, regarding her with a shocked expression. ”You do?”

Before she could explain, she heard Cove's dad, even closer than before. “There you are, bud!”

The trio of adults appeared over the curve of the hill. Instantly all their eyes landed on the two of them and they rushed over.

She noted Cove’s dad immediately scooped him up in a hug, and gave a sympathetic smile as Cove immediately began to squirm and wiggle in his hold.

“Thank god Cove’s alright…” one of the two women sighed, her skin was a dark color but her gold eyes were warm as she looked at Eve. “Are you the little girl Cliff asked to help find Cove, Eve, was it?”

Eve nodded, adjusting her backpack straps and ignoring how it bit into her collar, the pad it had in it was worn down and no longer prevented it from biting into her skin.

“Your parents must be so worried with you out this late.” The other woman said, skin pale but she had brown eyes and hair like….

Eve put the image of her own mother out of her mind as she shook her head. “No, they aren’t.”

They wouldn’t be, they more often than not were more concerned with yelling at each other.

That earned her a concerned glance between the two women as the brown eyed one then asked. “Did you take a tumble down one of these hills? You’re dirty.”

Again, Eve shook her head, frowning as she muttered to herself. “I scrubbed off in a river yesterday though….”

Another concerned look was shared between the two women, then the one with gold eyes knelt down and gently asked. “Where are your parents? What street do they live on?”

Eve frowned and shook her head, speaking bluntly as only a child could. “Not here, elsewhere.” She crossed her arms in an attempt to look…. Well, like she wasn’t a runaway very far from where she started. And she was at least smart enough to not say where she came from, can’t send her back if they don’t know where to send her.

That made the women frown, another shared glance that Eve thought must be them telepathically communicating, before the other woman knelt down as well.

“Sweetie, your parents must be worried sick,” She began, brown eyes looking over Eve worriedly. “You should probably go home-”

“No!” Eve’s sudden outburst had her clamping her hands over her own mouth, eyes wide in fear as she realized how loud she was, trembling faintly and tears springing to her eyes as she took in the shocked expressions on the two women.

Shaking her head, she stepped back, only lowering her tiny hands from her mouth to say much quieter. “I’m not going back, loud, loud, yelling, holes in the, the walls, screaming-” She shut her eyes and pressed her hands against the sides of her head as she tried to force the memories out of her mind.

She flinched when one of the women placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, making her open her eyes and shake a little, only for the gold eyed woman to give her a gentle smile.

“Okay, how about you come with me, my name is Noelani, and Pamela for the time being?” She offered gently. “You can take a proper bath, we have food and a bed you can use.”

Eve blinked, rubbing the tears that accumulated in her eyes before nodding, then pausing and adding. “C...Can I see Cove if I do?”

The women blinked before giggling, Pamela nodding. “Of course you can.” She then winked. “We also have a daughter you might get along with.”

Eve nodded, then looked back over to Cove, who was still wiggling against his dad's tight hug and pushing at his arms.

She noticed Cove was looking in her direction despite the hold his father had on him and gave him a reassuring smile.

That seemed to appease Cove, though it wasn’t until his father finally let go of his squirming, scowling son and turned to the three that she was able to give Cove a thumbs up.

“Thanks very much for finding him. I really don't know this neighborhood.” He said to both Eve and the two women, looking between the women and child.

“Good thing we know this whole area so well.” Noelani nodded.

“Absolutely. We should be getting home now. It's been a long day for us all.” Cove’s dad said, resting a hand on Cove’s shoulder. “You two are gonna get her home to her parents?”

“Well….” Pamela frowned, looking to the side. “How about we explain once we put the kids to bed? I’m sure Eve and Cove are exhausted, I’ll call.”

“Huh?” Cove’s dad tilted his head before realization dawned on him. “Oh. Right then, say goodbye, Cove!”

“Bye.” Cove said, looking more towards Eve than the two women beside her, and Eve smiled, waving bye.

The two of them walked off into the darkness, heading toward the neighborhood. She watched Cove’s back until he disappeared.

“Hm, tell you what - we'll have a proper playdate tomorrow, okay?” Pamela suggested, and Eve grinned, nodding.

“Your new friend's dad wanted to bring him by to see Lizzie, but if you’re with us he can see you too.” Pamela added, watching how Eve nodded before yawning into a hand. “C’mon buckaroo, let's get you washed and then into bed.”

Eve nodded, letting the two women lead her to their house, the next events were a blur, mainly due to how tired Eve was, but she was washed(hair included and that was not as hard as she thought it would be considering she kept her hair tidy for the most part) and then put to bed in a cozy and soft bed with soft sheets.

A far cry from the ground she had been sleeping on for months prior even if it was a bit big for her, so she quickly fell asleep when she got comfortable.

…….

“Pam, I think she’s a runaway.”

“I think so too, though, it seems she’s not from here, and you saw how thin she was….”

“We should get her into a doctor, check and see if she’s had any blood work done and hopefully find her parents…..”

“But, what she said about her family…. It doesn’t sound like she ran away for no reason….”

“....If nothing comes up, if she’s somehow avoided any documentation in any system, we can….Adopt her.”

“Yeah, she seems like a sweet girl, Lizzie may like her.”

“And Cove, it seems like they got along well. And we probably couldn’t send her back without either of them arguing against it.”

“Hehe…. …..Do you think ‘Eve’ is her actual name, though, ‘Lani?”

“....Hard to tell….”

#Our Life #our life beginnings & always #Our Life MC #Our Life Fanfic #Eve Oak(Our Life OC)#cove holden #Aaaa Idk if I wrote Pamela and noelani correctly but I tried!#(also safe to say the Runaway moment is likely gonna be different with Eve being a former runaway herself)#But I hope this is okay for my first attempt at a OL Fic at least!

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sams-sass · 4 years

Text

Time after Time Pt.2

GIF not mine

Hi guys! Here’s the second part for Time after Time. Let me know if you want a third :)

Read Part One: Part One

Summary: You and Dean finally get to be together again.

Warnings: Fluff, smut

Characters: Dean, Sam, You, Cas, Jack, Jody, Donna, Claire and Alex-Mentioned

Parings: Dean x Reader

The two of you finally broke apart, still standing in the middle of the living room.

“Dean.” You breathed.

“Y/N.” He groaned, resting his forehead against yours. You smiled.

“Dean, there is something I need to tell you.”

“What is it, sweetheart?”

"It's about Jamie; we should talk in your room."

"Sure." He said, taking your hand and leading you to his bedroom. You both sat down on the bed and faced each other "What is it, baby?" He asked, never letting go of your hand.

"It's Jamie; it's his soul. I can feel it slipping away from me." Dean was serious now. Looking at you with hard eyes. "I am older now than I usually am when I have him."

“Ok, what do we have to do?” Dean asked you

"I need to get pregnant." You said, lifting your eyebrows.

“Ok.” He said, questioning you with his eyes.

“Like right now, Dean.” A smile broke out over his face as realization washed over him.

"Oh, I think we can take care of that." Before you could respond, he wrapped his arms around you and pushed you back on the bed. He kissed your lips before moving down your jaw and onto your neck. You were panting underneath him. The first time with him was always amazing, so full of love and passion. Your fingers worked on the buttons of his flannel, pushing it off his heated skin. His hands slid up your shirt, pushing it up over your head.

"You are so beautiful." His voice was breathy and his eyes dark.

"So are you." You said, unbuttoning his pants. You both smiled at each other as your clothes were quickly shed. Dean's hands ran up your hips, over your waist, and landed on your breasts. His fingers worked your nipples and his mouth left open mouth kisses across your stomach. You were a moaning mess underneath his skilled touch. His mouth descended lower, and you felt his tongue slide into your dripping core. Your hands raked through his hair, yanking occasionally. One hand left your breast and entered you as his tongue made circles around your clit. Your back arched, and his name left your lips as you came. He kissed his way back up your body and gave you no time to come down from your high before slamming into you in one thrust. You both moaned at the feeling.

“I missed you so much.” You mumbled against his shoulder.

"I have been waiting for you my whole life." He said as he pushed the hair off your sweaty forehead.

“I love you.”

"God, baby, I love you so much." He began to move, and both of you were taken higher and higher until you didn't know where you stopped, and he started. You reached your peak together, and Dean nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck as you both came down. His arms tightened around you, and you crossed your ankles and squeezed your thighs around his waist. You both left kisses on all the skin you could reach. This is what you waited for. All those years of searching, and you finally had him. It was perfect.

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You were in the kitchen looking for food to make for dinner when you felt him press himself into your back. His hands splayed out across your belly, and he kissed your neck affectionately.

"Does he feel closer?" He asked, running his finger through your hair.

“Yes, he does. Much closer.” You said with a smile. You turned in his arms and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“What are you making for dinner?”

“Well, there isn’t much here. Is there a grocery store nearby?”

"There is, I'll make a run. Make me a list, so I know what to get." His hands were running up and down your back, and your fingers were playing with his hair. He gave you a sweet kiss and reluctantly let you go. You sat down and wrote some essentials down and handed him the paper.

"I'm going to call my friend, Cas, to come over for dinner. He will want to meet you." He said, smiling at you.

“Ok, I always like to meet the people you meet in your new life.”

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Dean knocked on Sam’s door.

“Come in!” Sam said.

“Hey man, I’m going to run into town for some a few things. Do you want to come or stay here with Y/N?”

“I’ll come with. Let her relax a bit.” Sam smiled at his brother.

"Good, you can help me," Dean said with a spark in his eye that Sam hadn't seen in years. The boys took the impala into town and got all the groceries on the list. After putting everything in the car, Dean leaned on the car and faced his brother.

"There is just one more thing I have to get," Dean said.

“Ok, where?”

"Follow me," Dean said with a small smile and a wave of his hand.

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They entered the bunker as you were just finishing taking a mental inventory of the entirety of it. It truly was expansive; it almost seemed like it never ended.

“This place is massive.”

“I know, it's awesome.” Dean smiled at you.

You made a quick dinner, some stir fry recipe you remembered from some blog you read once.

"Alright, boys." You said setting the things on the table. "Somewhat healthy for Sam, emphasis on the somewhat for Dean." You smirked. The door opened, and two men walked down the stairs. One had a kind face and blue eyes; the other looked younger with a boyish face and a wide grin.

“Hey, Cas.” Both boys said in unison.

“Hello.” Said the younger one.

"Oh, hey Jack, didn't know you were coming too," Sam said with a smile.

"I got your message; what's the emergency? Is something wrong?" His eyes landed on you.

"Cas, nothing's wrong, man! I wanted you to meet my….well….my Y/N." Dean said, slapping the man's shoulder and smiling at him. Confusion passed Cas’s face.

"I do not understand. I did not know you had a…Y/N." Dean smiled and then wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him.

"I'll fill them in, Dean; you enjoy your meal." You offered to rest your hand on his chest and to look up at him.

"Thanks, babe." He said, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. Obviously, the action was confusing to Cas as he just stared at the both of you with a furrowed brow. You motioned for Cas and Jack to follow you to the living room where the two of you sat in the chairs.

"I know this is going to be surprising and shocking, but Dean and I are soul mates. He and I have been spending our lives together since 1650. I am a witch; I always remember our lives when I enter a new one. I track him down and bring him back to me using a powerful spell. I gave it to him earlier today, so he now remembers the four lives we have lived together. He is my whole world. The lives we have lived together were full of happiness and love. I could never be without him; he is my home." You were smiling, and Cas and Jack were clearly confused, but you could also see something else in their eyes. Happiness. "Come on and eat; there is plenty, and I will answer any question you have."

“Thank you for your offer, but I don’t eat. I am an angel of the lord.” Cas said as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Right.” You said after a long pause. “Do you eat?” You asked Jack.

"Yes, I like to eat." He said, and you chuckled. "Well, come on then, I'm hungry." You all sat at the table eating and drinking. All you could see were smiles, and all you could hear was laughter.

The next morning you and Dean got up. You showered while Dean made some waffles and bacon. You all again sat around the table with full hearts and happy thoughts floating through your heads. After breakfast, Dean asked you if you wanted to go for a walk. You two were in the woods near the bunker, reminiscing on lives and learning more about each other in this life. You stopped by a pond, and Dean pulled you into his arms again.

"I thought a lot about this." He started. "Y/N, you are my life. Everything you are is everything I love about the world. I am so happy you found me, and now my life can finally start. Nothing in my life has ever felt sure but you. You are my world, my home. I was asleep before you, baby, and now that I am awake, I cant wait to spend every moment of my life making you happy. Will you once again marry me?”

"Yes, it will always be yes." You said as he pulled out a jewelry box from his pocket and slipped the band around your finger. You held each other for a long time laughing, crying and sharing sweet kisses. When you entered the bunker again, there were more people there, all of them cheering and clapping for you and Dean. Dean took you around the room and introduced you to Jody, Claire, Alex, and Donna.

"How did you all get here so fast?" Dean asked, so surprised.

"I called them all last night," Sam spoke up. "I knew you couldn't wait to get a ring on her finger again, called them before we even went to the jewelry store." Dean smiled at his brother and pulled him into a quick hug. Sam turned to you and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. You wrapped your arms around his waist and mumbled a "thank you" into his chest. He ran his hand down your hair and kissed the top of your head.

The day passed the same as the one before, full of happiness, love, and learning about one another.

Three months later

You ran your hands over your starting to expand belly, and smiled. Jody and Donna entered the room, you turned to greet them.

“Ready, chicky," Donna said, grabbing your hand.

"Nothing I haven't done before." You all giggled. They helped you curl your hair and pin some of it back. You did your own makeup, a light natural look. I mean, you were getting married in a forest. They then helped you into your dress and shoes. You opted for a simple silk cream-colored dress you found when Jody and Donna took you surprise dress shopping. It hugged your curves and had a cowl back that you loved. There was a tentative knock on the door.

“Who is it?” Called Jody.

“Sam.”

“No boys allowed.” You all giggled again

“I just want to see Y/N.” He said as he opened the door. “Wow, you look absolutely gorgeous.” He said with a shy smile.

“Thank you.” You looked him in the eyes and smiled. “What’s up?”

"Dean asked me to give you this." He said, handing you a note. You took it from him, and he bent down to kiss you on the cheek. "I love you." He said.

"I love you too, Sam." He hugged you kissing the top of your head, and escorted Jody and Donna out of the room. You opened the note from Dean.

Y/N,

I know we have done this before, but I am still nervous. I just wanted you to have something of your own on a special day like today. I love you, and I can't wait for all this life, and the next will bring us.

-Dean.

Attached to the note with tape as a necklace. The same necklace he gave you in your last life after Selena was born. How did he? You turned the letter over. There was a P.S., that cheeky bastard.

P.S.- I buried the necklace near a tree in our last life right before the end so that this Dean would have something to give you on our wedding day.

Tears filled your eyes as you placed the necklace around your neck. You dabbed at your eyes and freshened up your makeup. Another knock sounded at your door.

"Come in." You said with a smile. Jack opened the door and gave you a smile that warmed every part of his face. You had gotten to know Jack over the last couple of months, and you thought he was just the cutest thing.

“It's time." He said, and instantly you felt butterflies dancing in your stomach.

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go.” You answered with a hopeful grin.

Jack helped you out of the bunker and escorted you into the forest. Your heart was exploding fireworks throughout your body. Even though you were nervous, this felt right. It felt whole; you were complete once again. You got to the end of the aisle, and Jack stuck out his elbow. You slipped your hand in with a smile. You looked at Dean. He was staring at you just like he had every time. Love seeped out of every part of his body. He leaned back slightly to grab Sam's shoulder for support as you got near. Sam had the biggest grin on his handsome face. You finally reached them and immediately reached for Dean's hand. He took your hand in his and rubbed his callused thumb along your smooth skin. You gave each other one last smile then turned to face Cas. His speech was quick but meaningful, about always finding your happiness and holding on to it with all you have. You exchanged vows and rings.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife; you may kiss your bride," Cas said. Dean didn't miss a beat, leaning in to cup one hand around your cheek while the other came to grab your waist. His lips molded against yours, and cheers erupted in the background. When you broke apart, you both started to laugh as you turned towards everyone. You walked down the aisle again, this time as a married couple.

Your song was playing "Time after Time" by Margaret Whiting, and you were in each other's arms on the dance floor that Sam, Cas, and Jack had built. The trees were lined with Christmas lights and mason jars that had flameless candles in them. It was perfect.

"I can't wait for Jamie to get here," Dean said.

"Me too. He and Selena are just so perfect." You answered back.

"Just like their mom," Dean whispered in your ear, causing you to giggle and roll your eyes.

“Time after time.” You said.

“Time after time.” He agreed.

#dean winchester #dean x reader #spn #dean x witch!reader #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean x female!reader #time after time #time after time pt 2 #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fluff

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wincore · 4 years

Note

by the river / in the moonlight, life or death with jeno ? 👁👁

theme: joseon!au / sageuk!au, princess consort!reader

tw: mentions of death

“Do you believe in demons, Jeno?”

Jeno hesitates, clasping onto the hilt of his sword as he usually does when he’s nervous. He lets his hand linger on it before loosening, the sound of wind to breach the silence. You speak in hushed voices.

“I do not, sejabin-mama,” he responds, his breath falling against your cheek.

When you’re barely a few inches from each other in an abandoned library, you’d expect a little less formality. A general’s son makes for a good bodyguard, not a good liar.

“Don’t call me that,” you say, taking a sharp breath of air. “You don’t have to call me that now. Not ever.”

“You want me to call you by your name?” He asks.

“Yes,” you answer, “Today and everyday from now on. My name.”

“So demanding,” he teases, a ghost of a smile appearing. “You would make a good queen, you know?”

You exhale, holding yourself back from hitting him in the chest. It’s unfair for him to look so serious, like he really means it. Does he not know you’ll throw away that thickly veiled excuse of a life any day? Betrothed to the crown prince whom you’d never met till you were fourteen, never agreeing to a marriage that was decided from the moment of your birth, banned from leaving the palace grounds as a court lady—how is that part of any life?

All you’ve known is that in a courtroom, no one cares more about anything than themselves. You know that the cycle will continue; you will dictate your children’s life just as your parents have and just as they eventually will. It makes you a little sick.

Jeno presses his lips together, eyes turning into crescents in a warm smile. He raises a hand, bringing it closer to your face but hesitates, pulling away.

“I just want to keep you safe,” he whispers instead.

This thing they call love—it’s cruel.

You met Jeno as a child. You wanted to be with him when you grew up. It didn’t necessarily mean marriage—but oh, how you wished. Favored by the heavens in receiving strong athletics and a handsome face, he was meant for success and a happy life. He probably wasn’t meant to stumble upon the likes of you in that garden of peonies by the pond, the night of your marriage. He had said he wasn’t entertaining enough to sit at the royal court the entire day. You remember laughing out of turn. You weren’t supposed to become friends again, you weren’t supposed to fall in love. Maybe he would’ve found a lover and settled, you think bitterly. Maybe he would’ve been happy, high-ranking and wealthy.

“Jeno.” You gulp. “You could’ve stayed. Why did you help me?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He asks, a serious look replacing the placidity. “Haven’t I been obvious enough all this time?”

“We could be killed, Jeno,” you say, the realization heavy in your chest. “I can’t believe I dragged you into this.”

“You think I don’t know that?” He straightens to his full height, a frown tugging on his lips. “I want to keep you safe. I have to keep you safe.”

The afternoon sunlight pricks in through holes of the roof. The books are scattered everywhere, in the recent purge of illegal books that took place recently. It smells dusty here, you’d thought when you’d rushed in. You and Jeno stand quietly in between shelves, not a sound from the two of you that’s loud enough to be heard from outside. The light reflects the brown in his eyes, warm and inviting as honey. Nothing’s fair in this kingdom. You’ve seen enough to know that.

“Sometimes I worry,” he says, the words leaving his lips haltingly. His chest heaves with each breath, with the gentle fear you’ve seen in him more than once. “That it was me who gave you this disease—this desire to run away.”

“Don’t make me laugh,” you scoff.

“Was I the one who- Am I to blame for all this?”

You shake your head. “Lee Jeno.”

You press your hand to his cheek, the warmth of his skin making you sigh. Jeno did have the look of doubt a few nights ago when you’d gripped the cloth of his sleeves, pulled him away from the prying eyes of the court ladies and eunuchs.

“Shall we run away somewhere?” You had asked, desperation pending on your lips. “Somewhere far away. I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

A marriage that was never consummated out of respect, a night you spent alone by the pond in the royal garden, the look on Jeno’s face as you laughed at one of his dry jokes—all reasons leading up to the only conclusion. This wasn’t your life. You heart was in mourning.

“It’s clear,” Jeno notifies, gripping your hand and slowly tiptoeing towards the door. “No one’s nearby.”

The afternoon skies are bright, adorned by cotton clouds and kissing treetops. There’s a river beside the old wooden structure of the library, waters raging and eager for monsoon rains. He breathes a sigh of relief, looking back at you after. The mole below his eye is more captivating when he’s smiling like this. You remember your lips ghosting over them only two nights ago, Jeno’s arms secure around you.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t have worn that saekdongot,” he chides lightly. “You expect to hide in that?”

Your cheeks color and you defend, “It’s the closest thing I had!”

You look down at the lilac and pink stripes over bright, spotless white and think that maybe, you should’ve opted for a better choice of garments. The hems are dirty, dust lined up and you wonder how long it will be till the rest is too. You stand dangerously close to the edge of the river, atop the stone lining that ancestors had set in hopes to tame it. You think you can wash up a little downstream, when the river wanes. You sigh. It’s tiring, running away.

You look back up to Jeno, his gaze startling you. He looks on quietly, hesitation in his eyes. It’s only when he wants to kiss you that he looks like this. You smile a little, eyelids drooping as you lean in.

Jeno might not believe in demons but there are so many lurking around the palace grounds. Even now.

You hear the clattering of hooves against earth and before you can quite register, Jeno grips you by the shoulder, shielding you from viewing anything beyond at the forest.

You know the whistle of an arrow when you hear it.

Jeno makes a pained sound, loud enough for you to catch as you watch the dark red bloom against the fabric over his shoulder.

“Je-Jeno,” you say, voice risen to panic. Your hand rests against his cheek, the warmth a terrifying reminder. “No, no, no.”

There’s a distant look in his eyes as he scans your face, struggling to hold you in place. He grips you by the waist, eyes trained solely on yours and words that are about to leave his mouth. His right hand moves to hold yours, a restrained breath leaving his mouth. There’s a fucking arrow sticking out of his shoulder and all he tries to do is protect you. You want to cry, but the adrenaline won’t let you.

From somewhere, you smell peonies.

“I’m sorry, (name),” he whispers, a strange complacency in his voice.

For what? You want to scream. For what does he have the right to apologize?

He presses a kiss against your knuckles, the softness of it worsening your anxiety. His shoulder needs tending to; the kingdom will not provide it. You know the punishment traitors receive. Maybe if you can get to a village medic in time, if you can just escape. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This was supposed to be a nightmare at worst.

For a few moments, all you can hear is his heavy breathing, your heartbeat ringing in your ears to accompany.

Jeno leans in to press his lips against yours in a fashion you’ve never expected from him. It’s quicker than usual, but you can taste him when he pulls back, the look in his eyes akin to steel. Soft and comforting, gentle and bright. Jeno is everything they were not.

“If we can meet again, just one more time, please love me, alright?” He smiles, caressing your face.

“Jeno—”

You feel his leg swing at your feet and you stumble backwards, hands unable to hold onto anything as you fall into the river with a loud splash! After a few minutes of bubbles and blue, everything falls dark.

The journey for two ends up in a journey for one.

You wake up in shallow waters as if from a dream. You call his name once, maybe twice before you can get up, dragging the weight of wet clothes to the bank. You struggle to move, mustering all the strength you can to take one step at a time. Why can’t you win against even the wind?

There was so much you wanted to say and that just made it worse. You were supposed to be together forever. You were supposed to be together forever. Is there a secret wonderful ending perhaps? Will you find it if you take a turn this corner?

You sleep alone. The night is awfully scary, your weakened body ready to give up, lose hope. You suppose to you have, in a way. Weeks, months—what’s the difference? You find yourself in a village not too far from the capital. The people are kind but they do not know you, your regret, your mistake. You wonder if you should go back, face your punishment.

You stare at your reflection, trying to get yourself to clean your face. It’s almost evening; you suppose you should’ve woken up earlier but what does it matter? You hate this river. You hate this place. You hate the King and you hate his soldiers. Hate is a word you’re accustomed to.

“Say, how long are you going to stay there?”

Jeno looks dashing as ever in his dark blue jeonbok. Dark hair, so often complimented by the court ladies and eyes loved by everyone around. He smiles at you, eventually walking over to crouch beside you. There’s no reflection in the waters.

How long will you keep seeing ghosts? It’s a relief and a curse how you can’t forget his voice. You struggle to breathe, to move your limbs for a moment. Where do you have to go for the winds to stop?

“I have to hurry. Say my farewells.” He shrugs. Even now, there’s that sickening complacency.

You don’t respond. You don’t want him to leave. You feel an arm around you, cold to the touch but you give in nonetheless. His head tilts to rest against yours.

“I can stay here longer if you want.”

glossary:

sejabin - princess consort

mama - majesty

saekdongot - traditional hanbok worn by noble and royal girls characterized by colorful stripes

jeonbok - a type of sleeveless long vest mostly worn by military personnel

#jeno scenarios #nct scenarios #nct dream scenario #nct writing #nct imagine #nct dream imagines #jeno imagines #jeno angst #nct angst #nct dream angst #nct au #nct dream au #i......am sorry............#moonwrites #kiss prompts

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satonthelotuspier · 4 years

Note

Hi! Soooooo I saw your prompt list! *slides “did i ever tell you how beautiful your eyes are?” Over to you* for Xicheng 💕💕💕

Sorry this took so long, but getting C4 of How Shall We Stop Dreams into posting shape yesterday took me way longer than expected.

And then I had to do a little research for this one; on drunk Lan Xichen.

Honestly I loved this prompt, I was in two minds about whether to set it in my Modern AU or after the other post-canon prompt, in the end I went with the latter.

I always end up making LXC the gardener of the relationship so I wanted to turn that on it’s head this time, I really hope you enjoy reading as much as I did writing it!

Jiang Cheng stalked through the pathways of Cloud Recesses, Jin Ling scurrying after him.

“Jiujiu, are you sure you should be out of bed yet? You still look pale”

He halted briefly and turned on Jin Ling, who nearly barrelled into him.

“And whose fault is that?” he asked sharply. Jin Ling blanched and backed away a few steps for safety, but Jiang Cheng merely moved on like a man on a mission.

“Jiang Cheng!” at first he thought he’d imagined the call, but it was repeated, from the door of a nearby house. And really, he wished he had imagined it. Only one person in the entire world called him by his birth name and that one person could make his teeth clench so hard his jaw was in danger of breaking. “Jiang Cheng!” Wei Wuxian dashed down the verandah stairs and grabbed his wrist.

He stopped himself from pushing the other away, hyper aware of the other’s lack of a golden core.

As he’d been unable to act to remove the other he was pulled in the direction of the Jingshi, “I really, really need your help, Jiang Cheng, please”

He was so tempted to tell Wei Wuxian to get lost, but there was a small part of him, a long buried part, that was used to being Wei Wuxian’s accomplice in hi-jinx that reacted to that familiar look on an unfamiliar face. Wei Wuxian’s expression was half way between mortification and exuberance and Jiang Cheng was curious at what he’d gotten himself into this time.

Jin Ling had disappeared at the first sign of trouble and Jiang Cheng clicked his tongue in disgust, now the xiaogui learned to run in the face of danger. Why couldn’t the little idiot show this kind of survival instincts out in the wild and save his uncle from a mauling?

Completely irresponsible.

Once inside the Jingshi he struggled to take in the actual scene. The Two Jades of Lan, face down on the table, completely lifeless.

“Wei Wuxian, what have you done?” he demanded in utter shock.

“It was an accident Jiang Cheng” Wei Wuxian whined in response, “For example, they may have accidentally taken a little drink of my Emperor’s Smile”

“I dread to ask how”

“Simple really, and you’ll agree it could have happened to anyone when you hear the reason why! So, I was reading the junior’s night-hunt notes to help Lan Zhan out, but I had to keep stopping to refill my cup. As you know, Jiang Cheng, I’m a fixer, and I thought the perfect answer was to fill four cups and just drink them one after the other and spend less time refilling. Am I smart?”

“You’re an imbecile” Jiang Cheng covered his face with his palm.

Wei Wuxian continued his explanation unperturbed.

“But Lan Zhan and Lan Xichen came to visit with me, and accidentally took the cups of alcohol for tea I’d prepared for them, even though I hadn’t even expected them. They just drunk them right down. So you see, it’s not really my fault is it?”

“I won’t help you hide the bodies” Jiang Cheng tried to back away to the door and follow Jin Ling’s example but Wei Wuxian held firm.

“I just need you to take Lan Xichen back to the Hanshi. It will be easy. They’ll wake soon, and I can’t look after two drunk Lans at the same time”

Jiang Cheng had known his curiosity and trust in Wei Wuxian would get him into trouble one day.

He was about to finally extricate himself and leave Wei Wuxian with the mess of his own making when Lan Xichen suddenly sat upright.

He looked around the room and his glazed eyes fixed on Jiang Cheng, “Jiang Wanyin!!” he exclaimed, his voice unusually loud.

Lan Xichen got to his feet and walked over, looking extremely happy.

“Jiang Wanyin, are you here to visit with us too?!”

“Actually he was going to walk with you back to the Hanshi” Wei Wuxian pushed them both out of the door then closed it in their faces.

“That’s wonderful, lets go Wanyin, I’m so pleased you came to walk with me because I love your company!!”

He hadn’t thought it was possible for a person to pronounce punctuation but it appeared Lan Xichen in his cups had that skill.

Wei Wuxian had promised him it would be easy to get Lan Xichen from the Jingshi to the Hanshi; he had, as usual, been talking rubbish.

Lan Xichen had to stop to exclaim enthusiastically over virtually every flower, tree, crane and rabbit they passed on the way. He stopped to compliment the moon on it’s beautiful light at one point, and Jiang Cheng gave serious consideration to just pushing him into the pond and leaving him to it. He was petty enough to do it too, but he couldn’t shake the thought that the other might actually drown if he did.

“Wait...” Lan Xichen stopped again and turned in a circle as if looking for something. “Where’s Liebing?!” he exclaimed.

Jiang Cheng had no idea where his Liebing was, and he was at the end of his patience, so he lied, “It’s in the Hanshi, don’t you remember?” and it might not be a lie, it was entirely possible that was where his precious xiao was at the moment.

“Yes, of course!! You’re so smart Wanyin!!” he reached over and took Jiang Cheng’s hand, dragging him along to the Hanshi.

Jiang Cheng walked in ahead of Lan Xichen, fully intent on actually finding the xiao because he felt guilty about lying to the Lan sect head, but the snick of the doors closing behind him was slightly ominous. Before he could react he was enfolded in a hug from behind and Lan Xichen rested his chin on Jiang Cheng’s shoulder.

“Lan Xichen! What are you doing?!” he demanded, his voice was high pitched and he seemed to have suddenly inherited Lan Xichen’s ability to speak in punctuation as everything leapt into high speed, his breathing, his heartbeat, his thoughts.

“Hugging of course, Wanyin!!” he squeezed him and nudged Jiang Cheng’s jaw with his nose, “Isn’t it nice?!” he placed a kiss at the corner of Jiang Cheng’s eye, “did I ever tell you how beautiful your eyes are?!”

“No!” Jiang Cheng tried to wriggle free but Lan Xichen was tenacious. He made a screeching sound of protest as the other’s hands moved to find the fastenings of his robes, “Lan Xichen, keep your hands to yourself”

He felt the other pause, pull back and murmur, “Oh, I see!!” before those hands moved to the fastenings of his own robes.

“No, stop. Not like that” Jiang Cheng had been mid-sigh of relief when he realised how Lan Xichen had interpreted his order. He leapt forward to catch Lan Xichen’s hands securely in his own to stop any possible disrobing of either of them. “Look...just come and sit here and talk to me, yes?” he lead the other to sit on the edge of his bed, folded his hands in his lap, and backed away a little.

He was going to kill Wei Wuxian tomorrow. And probably kick Lan Xichen in the shin if he moved from that bed tonight.

“I’m sorry I haven’t told you about your eyes before, Wanyin, it was very rude of me!!”

Jiang Cheng was exhausted, “Very” he agreed on a long sigh.

“How can I make it up to you?!” Jiang Cheng examined his earnest face carefully, could it be that simple?

“I’ll forgive you if you go to sleep now”

“Really?! Consider it done!!” and the other laid back carefully and really just went to sleep like that.

Jiang Cheng had thought he’d reached the limit of his surprise tonight, but apparently not. He dropped his forehead to the bed besides Lan Xichen and let the relief wash over him.

It was little wonder alcohol was forbidden in the Cloud Recesses, no one had the stamina to deal with a drunk Lan.

He was roused at the soft, snuffling snores that Lan Xichen began to make, and he had to swallow his laughter at the sound. The thought of the perfect First Jade of Lan snoring was immensely entertaining; and he wondered whether he’d be able to use all of this to tease him in the future.

He reached out and unfastened Lan Xichen’s hair and carefully removed the hair ornament, not wanting him to be uncomfortable while he slept.

He took the opportunity to run his thumb over one of Lan Xichen’s elegant, arching eyebrows; the other was too thin, he’d suffered in seclusion, eaten by guilt and grief over what had happened to his dearest friends under his nose, and Jiang Cheng felt a flare of tenderness, and a need to protect.

He took hold of Lan Xichen’s relaxed hand and carefully watched his sleeping face for a while.

#xicheng #lan xichen #jiang cheng #mdzs fic #mdzs fanfic #mdzs #prompt #shay's stuff #hope you enjoy!#for this-solaris-life

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alltheangstmygifttoyou · 4 years

Text

Growing Up

A/N: This is part 6 of the Learn To Be prequel and this is where we get a bit of understanding about Jesse and slightly more world building. A lot of what this prequel is missing is world building. This is from Jesse’s perspective.

Summery: Jesse and Jester’s first day back to school after vacation. Jesse’s friends are introduced to his twin.

Word Count: 3583

TW: violence, mentioned discrimination

Coming back to school was a blessing for Jesse. His Mother had been overbearing during the short vacation. When she wasn’t dragging him around or talking his ear off he shut himself off in his room. Normally he would hang out with Jester in the playroom, but he had finally come to the conclusion that Mother was right about his twin. She was a liar, and selfish. It took him so long to accept it because she was the only person his age around. He used to look up to her for it, because she always got her way, but he knew better now. She didn’t have any friends, she was disciplined often, and while teachers often believed the lies she told students didn’t and would try to prove her wrong. If the teacher still believed her lies Jester’s reputation was just made worse. Jester was shunned, no one wanted to be around her the rest of Basics, and Jesse hadn’t seen a difference since they went to Learn To Be.

However, Jesse had changed, and for the first time he went to his friend’s table for breakfast instead of his twins. There was another boy in section one named Jackson that sat across from Jesse and next to his older sister Matilda, but everyone called her Milly. She was in section three and was in year three, but still very nice. Next to Jesse sat Ren, a brown haired boy in section two. Both Jackson and Ren were in Jesse’s year. Ren had gone to Basics with Jesse and they had played together in their final fifth pre-year. Jackson however went to a different Basics school since he was from a different city. Jesse’s home was a part of the city of Terreriche while Jackson and Milly lived in the city Liqen. Jesse had never been there but Milly described it fondly, telling all the beautiful secret places to visit to see the best examples nature could offer. Her favorite spot to tell them about was a pond in the middle of a forest slightly off the path where ducks and geese often took their babies. Wild flowers grew adding warm colors to the cool sight. There was also a small sandy area covered in hills of rock where seashells big and small washed up from a river nearby, it was all under a bridge which kept one hidden from the heat of the sun. Jackson said the area was boring, there wasn’t anything to do.

When Jesse sat with them they excitedly went on about their vacations, relaxing his nerves a bit. Even though he was still angry with Jester there was a small bug of guilt nibbling on his insides. Jester was all alone when he sat down. A quick look back confirmed she was still alone. Her back was to him, but he could tell she wasn’t eating.

“Hey, you normally sit with your sister at breakfast don’t you?” Jackson asked as he shovelled more eggs into his mouth. Jackson, despite arguing with his sister on most subjects, was very big on family. None of them had been mad that he spent breakfast with Jester, not even Ren who had been exposed to her before.

“Yeah, but I’d rather sit with you guys, I haven’t seen you in days!” Jesse smiled, and it wasn’t a lie. He would rather sit with them instead of having an awkward conversation that lasts three sentences before leading to tense silence.

“Isn’t that her all alone?” Ren asked, he had turned around to look at her. He didn’t like Jester much, but he understood that Jester was Jesse’s twin, he kept his negative comments to himself mostly. Rarely, if she had really upset Jesse Ren would discuss how manipulative and selfish she was. Jesse didn’t talk about Jester with Jackson or Milly, and he assumed Ren hadn’t either. Yet, Ren was a bleeding heart, and still felt sympathy for people he couldn’t stand.

“Why don’t you invite her to sit with us?” Milly suggested, her big brown eyes staring at the back of Jester’s purple head. Jesse wondered if Milly wanted another girl to hang out with, if she did, she could do better than Jester.

“I could, but I doubt she would come over,” once again Jesse wasn’t lying. He did really doubt that she would actually come over, but he knew that she would want to. Whenever he mentioned having friends she always had a small sad smile spread across her face and empty encouragements spill out her mouth. She couldn’t be more obvious that she wanted more friends and made him feel guilty about it. However Jackson seemed to take Jesse’s doubts as a personal challenge, which wasn’t really surprising. Jackson was a very competitive person creating challenges just to win them.

“Well it won’t hurt to ask! Come on, I’ll go with you,” Jackson stood up, his messy black hair bouncing into his dark hazel eyes as he spoke. Jesse resisted the urge to frown and roll his eyes and instead stood up as well. The two boys were both small and lean making it easier to squeeze between people and tables. Jesse saw as they got closer that Jester was writing in a notebook, breakfast pushed aside untouched. Her back was straight and her legs crossed just as their parents had taught. Apparently whatever lesson Father had given her worked well. Once they were a table away Jester closed her notebook and turned to face them. Despite the make up she still looked tired to Jesse. She smiled at the two of them but it wasn’t real. It was the same smile she plastered on with teachers and at charity parties. Jackson brightened at the smile and turned to look at Jesse with confidence mingled with excitement. Jesse curled his lips upwards but the expression he made wouldn’t be described as encouraging, or even a smile. Jackson’s eyebrows furrowed and his smile lost some of its pep but nevertheless he pushed on. They reached Jester’s table and Jackson reached out a hand.

“Hi Jesse’s sister, I’m Jackson!” Jackson already had an above average voice volume, but his increased excitement made him even louder. Jester loosely took his hand and gave a single swing before letting go.

“Nice to meet you Jackson, my name is Jester,” Jester’s light green eyes bore into Jackson’s brown while she spoke. Her hand she just used to shake his subtly rubbing against her pants. Jesse noticed that her nails had been painted dark green and filed to a point. Her arms covered her chest as her hands pushed against her knees, a pose Jesse had seen their Mother make many times while speaking to Father.

“We were wondering if you’d want to sit with us, since you’re alone here and all,” Jackson went on breaking the eye contact Jester forced and looking anywhere but her. Jester’s eyes didn’t leave Jackson’s face despite how clearly uncomfortable he was.

“That is very kind of you to offer. I would love to,” Jester twisted around to grab her notebook, finally leaving Jackson alone. Jesse couldn’t place a specific reason on why, but this entire situation was making him feel jittery. Something was different, something was wrong and as always it had something to do with Jester. “Lead the way boys,” Jester practically chirped, clutching the purple spiral notebook close to her chest. She hadn’t been carrying that before the surprise vacation and Jesse couldn’t help but ponder what she had been writing.

Back at the table Jesse and Jackson took their previous seats and Jester took the seat on the other side of Ren. Awkward silence fell over the group. Jesse knew this would happen if Jester came over. No one ever knew what to say to her. The only thing to appreciate about the moment was the relief that just because they were silent the rest of the room wasn’t. Jesse had practice with his only entertainment being a mash of hundreds of voices on top of each other all fighting to be heard. Sometimes one voice would break through all the others and could be clearly understood . Other times a large group would all start laughing at once. Jesse always tried to think of the joke.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends Jesse?” Jester asked suddenly, she wasn’t looking at him, but between Ren and Milly. Jesse quickly chewed the piece of sausage he had absentmindedly been eating before doing as she asked.

“Next to Jackson is his sister Milly, and you’re sitting next to Ren, from Basics,” Jesse wasn’t sure if Jester actually didn’t remember Ren or not. They didn’t interact much, but Jester remembered people easily.

“Oh hello again Ren, it’s been awhile since we last spoke. I believe it was in a group project in Mrs. Mayswire’s fourth pre-year?” Jester went on, not looking at any of them, her attention was focused on her lap. Leaning forward Jesse could see that she was writing in the notebook again.

“That sounds right,” Ren mumbled watching Jester write before turning to Jesse. Jesse shrugged and raised his eyebrow nodding towards his sister's lap. Ren shook his head.

“Sorry if I’m wrong but are you two by chance Jackson and Matilda Lakerson, children of Samantha Lackerson, CEO of Muberachi, the car company?” Jester looked up, eyes looking between the two other siblings. Milly blinked slowly three times in a row while Jackson corked his head.

“Yeah we are, how did you know?” Jackson answered, although he didn’t sound as suspicious as he should.

“Our Father works with your mother. I spoke to her a couple years ago and she showed me an older photo of you two,” Jester responded, and while she was looking at the two of them her hand began writing again. Jackson beamed at the news of his mother showing him off while Milly’s shoulders dropped slightly.

“I didn’t know that! Isn’t that cool Jesse, we had a connection before we even met,” Jackson’s voice went up a pitch and he was starting to speak so that his words were going so fast they blurred together.

“It’s almost like fate,” Jesse agreed, stabbing at a bit of egg on his plate. He chewed it slowly to avoid the conversation springing around him. Jester and Jackson just seemed to hit it off, talking about what business they could. Milly would join in every once and awhile with prompting from Jackson, although she had stopped eating and was mostly playing with her food. Her dirty blonde hair fell into her eyes and she was chewing on her lips. Unlike Jester Milly didn’t wear makeup, something Jesse found intriguing. Ren was eating normally, but stayed quiet with a frown. His parents worked in the daonlathach section of government, called daon for short. People that worked in that area of government voted on issues to be brought before the council. Both of Ren’s parents worked as part of the daon so neither were home often. As such Ren resented politics a bit and would rant about it to Jesse whenever one of his parents were held up at work.

When the bell rang Jesse was glad to escape the little hell he was subjected to. Maybe last year he would have liked that Jester go along with his friends but he knew better now. She would lie to them, hurt them, maybe even use them. For what, he didn’t know, but he didn’t want them to be hurt by her. Then they would leave. A nauseous feeling followed him as he walked to English class. Jester was in that class too along with Ren. The classroom was large and had thirty chairs in rows of five. The walls were a soft slightly desaturated light blue that the teacher, Mx. Crane, claimed, would help keep the classroom calm. Jesse sat in the second row at a dark brown plastic table that was made to look like bark but didn’t feel so. His chair was also plastic, a maroon color with a rough texture. He was one of the first students in the classroom. A blonde quiet girl with a ponytail sat in the back kept to herself, all the way on the other side of her table was a mixed boy with short black hair. Jesse ignored them and pulled a pencil out of his pants pocket. More students trickled in finding the same seats they had been sitting in since day one. Ren, who now carried a bag, took the seat to the right of Jesse. Ren pulled out a blue spiral bound notebook before letting the bag drop to the floor with a loud thud. Ren had a pencil behind his ear which he pulled out before opening to a new page in his notebook and writing the date. Jesse rolled his eyes. Ren liked to take extra notes, other than the worksheets the teacher provided. Jesse only took notes in math and science, anything he didn’t remember he could just ask Ren. Jester was one of the last students to come in and took the seat directly behind Jesse. Jester sat next to a girl with short blondish brownish hair that Jesse rarely saw around the school. She was probably in a lower section like thirteen or fourteen. Mx. Crane started class by having them write for five minutes about a prompt and supplying paper. The prompt was ‘what did you do over vacation?’

Jesse wrote slowly thinking over every word before putting it down. He attempted to use more sophisticated language to describe his activities, but he didn’t put much down and he tried to spell every word he did manage to get down correctly. By the end of the five minutes Jesse only had three sentences to share, which was only a little less than he normally wrote with these prompts. Looking to his side Jesse saw that Ren had a nice paragraph scrawled with big letters that escaped outside the lines meant to contain them.

“Alright class, share with the person next to you.” Mx. Crane announced and Jesse turned to Ren with a smile. Ren had the opposite problem that Jesse had when it came to writing. He just wrote whatever came to mind. His thoughts were incoherent and whenever Ren read out loud he would try to make sense of whatever he’d put down. It normally took up all their speaking time but it never failed to make Jesse laugh.

“So then after I realized that it was a plate that broke and I had stepped on a shard that didn’t cut my foot I tried to pick it up but it did cut my finger which started bleeding so I-”

“Please move to another person to talk to,” Mx. Crane spoke over the class and Ren gave Jesse a sheepish grin in apology for not giving him a chance to talk once again. Jesse smiled back before rushing over to the short blondish brownish haired girl instead of Jester. He saw out of the corner of his eye Jester tense up before moving to find someone else.

“Hi there, my name’s Jesse, what’s yours?” Jesse asked all of this while taking Jester’s previous seat. Ren was talking to someone very pale and short in the front row. The blondish brownish haired girl shifted in her seat and scooted back from Jesse a bit. Her mouth seemed to be permanently stuck in a small frown.

“Ginger,” despite her small stature, her voice was deeper than most girls Jesse knew and she spoke quietly. Her gray blue eyes stayed on her paper. Jesse smiled at her in hopes to make her more comfortable.

“That’s a nice name, do you want me to read first, or do you want to go?” He made sure to give her options, perhaps she would feel better if she felt more in control.

“You can go,” her voice was flat and Jesse noticed there were bags under her eyes. He suddenly wasn’t sure if she was just shy or if there was something else going on.

“Alright, I didn’t get the chance to write much,” he cleared his throat before continuing. “Over the three day vacation my Mother and I traveled to an ice cream parlor. Afterwards the majority of my time was spent in our large home, playing games with my many alien figurines. Along with playing I also had plenty of invigorating conversations with my Mother,” Jesse read out, unable to keep the pride out of his voice at his use of the word ‘invigorating’. Ginger’s facial expression didn’t change, her fingers just rubbed her own paper rhythmically. Jesse wondered if she was listening. It took a few more moments of silence before Ginger looked up at him. “That’s all I have…” Jesse didn’t smile at her this time, he couldn’t keep eye contact.

“Oh, I didn’t do anything over break,” Ginger mumbled. Jesse severely doubted that seeing as there was plenty written on her paper but he wasn’t going to push. Ginger began shading an empty square onto her paper and it became clear that there wasn’t much hope for a conversation to spark up. There was still plenty of time left before the teacher would make them switch partners again. Many people were just taking this opportunity to randomly talk about anything with their friends. Although the back of the classroom was louder than the front. Jesse looked back to try and figure out what all the noise was about. It was hard to spot at first because when anything goes down in a classroom of course everyone will start to talk about it, but it became clear when the offenders got even louder than before. The blonde in the pony tail was arguing with the boy with black hair that had been sitting on the far other side of the table. Now they were a seat apart and Jester sat in the middle of them. She looked uncomfortable, she had scooted her seat back but there wasn’t any space for her to truly escape their yelling. Jesse strained to understand what they were shouting but on top of all the other voices he couldn’t decipher what was going on between them.

“Jenny, Joey, enough,” Mx. Crane projected sternly with their voice. The rest of the class quieted down but the two of them kept going, now partially directed at the teacher as well. Jester shrunk in on herself further. If the two of them were arguing with her Jesse was sure she would be thriving, but with both of them just trapping her in while ignoring her existence there was nothing much to do. He supposed she could just crawl under the table.

“I’m not going to stop until he can explain why he can’t mind his own fucking business!” The blonde apparently named Jenny shouted.

“Language Miss Lake!” Mx. Crane yelled back.

“I just told you to lay off and have some common decency! It’s not other people’s fault how they were born,” Joey went on, his fists were shaking.

“That’s bullshit your parents feed you so you don’t feel bad about your section. News flash, we’re in fifteen! We’re not going anywhere in life, and the only reason she will is because she has money. So stop defending her rich ass and get a clue,” Jenny snarled making such wide gestures that they almost hit Jester, who was dodging the best she could.

“I have a clue, I’m just not a cynical bitch like you!” Joey yelled back but something about his voice changed. There was an echo to it and his fists were shaking so bad that they were pounding on the table.

“No you’re just a freak like me who can’t accept it.” Mx. Crane left the room at Jenny’s last statement and it was becoming clear why. Joey’s skin moved like there were bubbles underneath it and Jenny seemed too still.

“Shut up,” Joey growled, his echo clear and deep. Jesse felt his heart rate pick up and he looked towards Ren who was fidgeting, eyes switching from the two angry kids to the door. The back of Joey’s shirt bulged until bloody wings of bone tore through. Someone in the classroom started screaming. Skin began growing on the wings then feather like hairs. Jenny’s eyes widened and she stood up, but the strange position of how her and Joey had moved closer during their argument, and Jester only being half back since the wall blocked her from going any further, Jenny tripped on the leg of Jester’s chair causing her to grab Jester’s arm for support. Jester cried out and Jenny quickly let go revealing dead skin where her hand had been. All the while Joey’s transformation continued, his fingers grew longer and nails thicker with points. Markings appeared on his face and one eye’s whites flooded black and the iris shined a metallic red.

“Run,” Joey’s voice was layered and echoed, not many people needed to be told twice. Ren bolted out the classroom along with quite a few other students. Jenny pushed a chair at Joey when she went to run but it only managed to hit Jester’s knee. Jesse looked between Jester and Joey; then at the door. It was only the three of them left inside. Jester struggled to walk. Jesse ran out of the door alone.

#learn to be #writeblr #tw violence #tw discrimination

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