#he's desperate and dressed in almost all black‚ as if he were being mourned already. and ALSO. v's entire design is black until the Very End

[poptartmochi]

#i like that her palette is 5 is a lot warmer. she's aliiive‚ truly! it's her most authentic self yet :] #i have yet to figure out what her prequel design is.. all i know is that's a lot colder compared to her succeeding iterations #which i think follows a fun and probably non-existent visual language the designs follow.. dante in 3 is so bright and fun and then in #2 when he's in his fanon depression slump‚ his outfit is colder in tone. vergil in 3 is ambitious and decked in the blues and oranges. in 5? #he's desperate and dressed in almost all black‚ as if he were being mourned already. and ALSO. v's entire design is black until the Very End #when it goes full white. *vine boom effect* #she found the will to live fully and her color palette got brighter :'] #which. works w her design for 4 because it's still a lot of blacks and desaturated burgundy shades. there's color but it's muted yk! #yippie gioiaaa :] she is rotating in my mind #sriracha.txt #nero prime

[jabbagabba]

La La Land

Read Prologue

Warning ⚠️

Triggering subjects: disassociation, manipulation, mind control, grief. (READ AT OWN RISK)

Wandavision: spoilers (up to episode 6 - just to be safe), violence

———

Pools Of Despair

You weren’t sure how long it’d been, the drive feeling as though it had taken a lifetime. It might have been just down the road and you wouldn’t have been able to tell; time seemed to move torturously slow under Wanda’s control.

She tried to keep herself calm besides your frozen body, already thinking of a way out as she turned the steering wheel. But it was too late to go back.

‘No other way. No other way.’ The words replayed over and over in her head as she finally made it to the front of the building, and it was the first time she fully looked at you. Your face was stoic, the only sign of life being the soft breaths escaping your mouth. You couldn’t look at her - even if you wanted to - and as she reached a hand to your face, the feeling of complete numbness returned.

During the drive there had been small moments of clarity; moments where for the first time you felt in control. It was almost euphoric being able to push through the fog.

But then, as quickly as it had subsided, she would crawl her way back in.

Even now as she turned you toward her fully, you tried to swim through the heaviness, but the black swirls of grief and anguish just got tighter the harder you fought.

Wanda sighed in annoyance. “You can’t go in looking like that.” She pulled at a strand of her hair with a small huff. “Need glasses.”

You were sure if you had control of your body, the pain of your neck would be unbearable, the awkward angle surely making every muscle strain as you were forced to watch her pull apart the car.

This had to have been owned by the only man on the planet that didn’t carry sunglasses in their car. Wanda almost laughed, a punishment for stealing it? She couldn’t be sure.

“Well...” Wanda pulled the blue and white baseball cap by the brim from under her seat. “Better then nothing.” She gave a small smile as she adjusted it on your head, pulling back and grabbing your hand and letting it rest in her lap. “If there was any other way, I swear, I would let you go. But... I just... I can’t live without him.”

You said nothing as she cried.

———

“Head down, get Vision. Leave.” Her voice plagued your every step, each word carved into your brain as you finally reached the front desk.

‘Sword’ was a nice place - or at least had nice flooring - and from the bright light that filled each and every inch of the glossy tile, you knew there had to be a lot of glass. It was a government building after all.

“Can I help you?” Her voice is chirpy, a polite smile painted on her lips, you don’t need to see her eyes to know it wasn’t anything but genuine. She lets the wheels of her chair carry her forward, her computer forgotten besides her as you near the desk.

“Do you have... a meeting?” She smiles again, more forced and you’re able to see the golden pin on her chest that proudly says ‘Mary’ and try once more to float above the darkness.

“I -“ The word leaves your lips aprubtly and the fight drains from you just as fast. “I’m here to inquire about some of my father’s equipment. I’d like it back.” You let the darkness swallow you whole.

“And who are you again?” Mary is quick to pull her deskphone to her ear, hand hovering over the numbers.

———

The name that fell from her lips made Mary freeze. She looked up with wide eyes, both fearful and exited.

Starks were top priority at ‘SWORD’ - she was sure they were top priority everywhere - and as she desperately tried to recall if her boss mentioned anything about Stark equipment, the girl’s patients quickly wore thin.

“Can you please just tell me where to go? I have a long drive ahead of me.” Her voice was a sharp contrast from her apparance. The girl’s voice was stern and loud while her body was scrunched in on itself, eyes glued to the desk. Mary took a glance over the desk and saw the dark fabric of a dress, the hat didn’t even match the girl’s shoes.

“Right.” Mary said. “I’m sorry, just a little... starstruck.” She tried to keep her cool, turning again in her chair and started typing as fast as possible on her little keyboard. The atmosphere was thick with uncomfortable silence and Mary had to make sure not to shiver in the girl’s presence. She scrolled down the list of names and let out a small “ah” when she found your name. Just as quickly as she clicked on it, a pop up window filled the screen

STARK - Access Denined. Call Security

She felt sick; her nerves making her skin pucker as she tried to keep calm. When Mary finally found the courage to move, bile reached through her throat as she saw red eyes looking back.

“Ahh!” Mary was quick to jump out of her chair.

“Fine.” The girl sighed, hand flat on the counter as she took long strides around it. “If you won’t help me.” A red trail flowed through one of the doors; slithering like a snake as it wrapped around the shell shocked receptionist. “I’ll do it myself.”

———

Wanda’s mind had warped, grief and anger become one as she ripped through each and every room of the building. No one was safe from the witch’s wrath as she swung them through various glass panels and equipment. By the third turn she took, guards had given up, opting to instead try desperately to get out of her way.

She had left you at the desk, too transfixed to care and as she heard the various shouts of alarm from down the hallway, she was glad you weren’t in her way.

———

The group of four man were shocked; watching as the two guards dropped their guns and put their hands up for mercy.

“We’ll give you what you want. Please!” One of them - Felix - cried as the woman barreled through the double doors.

Wanda simply flicked her hand and he was sent flying to a wall, his partner following.

“Where is he?” Her accent was thick and the youngest tech almost asked her to repeat herself. “Where is Vision?” The stunned silence only fueled her anger. “You.” Red swirled under one of the men’s feet and lifted him from the ground. “Where?”

If the man could have, he’d be shivering in fear right about now. His life was in the hands of a deranged woman who with a simple flick of her wrist could send him plummeting down ten floors.

Wanda tightened her hold on him in warning and he knew he had to speak.

“Behind us.” He said. “There is a set of double doors, turn left and there’s an examination room.”

“He should be there!” A colleague on his left was shaking as she turn to face him. “He’s not lying.” Wanda let her power swim under him once more beofre gently letting him go.

“Thank you.” She gave a small smile. “Now, go.”

They didn’t have to be told twice.

———

Wanda felt as though she couldn’t breathe, the sight of her dead lover on the table was crippling. Vision was a dark grey; his eyes blank as they stared into her. If it wasn’t for the table itself she would have probably collapsed on to the floor as sobs took over her.

“I cant. I can’t. I -“ The words fell from her lips like a mystical chant. She couldn’t look at him anymore, his body was nothing but an empty shell of parts.

When her body turned to ash; Wanda was ready to die, her last shred of humanity died with Vision. The battlefield would be her final resting place. She chose to spend her last moments hoping that If there was a God that they’d be merciful, that she’d be allowed to spent her afterlife in blissful ignorance.

But instead she woke up.

Five years had passed and she was still there, only now she was alone. It was only after the death of Tony Stark that she let the floodgate of loss fill up her veins. While Thanos was alive, she had a mission; kill him and reverse the snap.

Wanda never imagined the pain that followed. She should have died that day, why couldn’t she have died that day?

Grief had a knack for turning the strongest people into helpless pools of despair.

Vision deserved better. That was what go her up, got her to calm her tears and push herself up. She wasn’t going to let them win. Vision was hers to mourn, to love, and hers to take care of.

She had a new mission, one that was stronger then her need to submit to pain.

But... she needed help carrying him.

———

Your body moved through the halls, following the tethered rope of energy that wrapped around your waist. If it wasn’t for your boots, your feet would have been covered in cuts from the sharp edges of the broken glass that filled the hallways.

The fog had cleared more then before and if you tried hard enough, you might’ve even been able to pull free completely. Wanda was exhausted and the fight had been ripped from you So you let her pull you, let the fog seep through every inch of you.

And as you entered the small room, you forgot you were suppose to care anymore.

“I need you to hold onto his legs.” She said softly, hand stroking his cheek. “Easier to carry both of you.” Your body moved again and you placed a gentle hand onto vision’s ankle.

Wanda wiped the last of her tears away, grabbed onto his arm, and all three of you were lifted off the ground.

———

Hot air blew through Wanda’s hair making her hands continuously push back strands from her face as she walked. The afternoon sun was unrelenting and she had to take several short breaks.

The car was too dangerous to return to - a swarm of agents was not something she wanted to deal with - and controlling someone for almost 24 hour straight took a lot out of her. Her hold on you was weak enough for you to sometimes fully take over, her control turning into a dull ache at the back of your brain.

As she walked in front of you thoughts of running flooded through your brain but the walking had tired your body out, and you were sure that if her little pushes weren’t there, you’d have already collapsed. Even if you had the strength to do it, the empty roads had long ago turned into tall trees and bush. You were in the middle of nowhere and getting loss in the woods with a heartbroken witch was not something you wanted to deal with. So, like a trained puppy, you followed silently behind Vision’s dragging body. It wasn’t hard to keep up, she was as slow as she could be while Vision’s body left a dirt trail.

“Break.” Wanda breathed. Who knew an empty little spot of grass would be so inviting? “Sit.” You felt a small push and follow it down to the ground. You let your fingers grip the direr under them, the cool breeze making you sigh.

“Where-“ The sound of your voice startled both of you but she stayed still. “Where are we going?”

She said nothing, choosing to instead turn on her knees and pull Vision forward by the arms.

“When I was little-“ Wanda smiled to herself as she stared down at Vision. “- I use to dream about this field. Me and Peitro went past it everyday during the summer. It had all these small flowers growing.” You listen intently as she giggles, eyes losing focus as she is hit with the memory. “I always tried to sneak past the fence... but, I was alway stopped by someone.” Her mouth twitches and you feel the pulsing return in your neck. “It’s probably nothing but dirt now, like everything.”

“Where are we going, Wanda?” You try to keep your voice soft, afraid of ruining the small moment as you reached out for her but she was quick to stop you, hand glowing red and inches away from your face.

“Don’t.” She warns. You nod in silent apology.

“We’re not far from a road.” Wanda let’s her hand fall back to her side. “I want you go and call whoever you need to.” You’re almost startled when her control leaves fully from your body, it almost feels empty. “Tell them what I did, or don’t, I don’t care. I have what I want.”

“Wanda -“

“Please.” The crack in her voice makes tears pool in your eyes. “Just go.”

You stand on shaking legs. The world was spinning and you felt as though you had just gotten off a rollercoaster but you tried to steady yourself. Unsure of where to go, you turn to her once more for guidance and she simply points behind you.

Your conscious wouldn’t let you leave. Wanda was tired and you were afraid of leaving her alone. Regardless of what she did; you knew you couldn’t blame her, she had lost everyone.

In a way, so did you.

“I’m sorry about Vision.” Wanda looked up again and gave you a small nod. “About Pietro, about everyone. I wish it was different.”

“Me too, Stark.” She let her fingers wrap around your hand and squeezed. The warmth from the dock returned and you couldn’t help but give her a small grin of gratitude. “I meant what I said at the funeral.”

Both of you were so wrapped up in your own little bubble, you didn’t even question why the birds stopped.

————

Tag list (open, just ask)

@white-wolf-buckaroo @y-napotat

All my stuff is open, and I’m always happy to hear from people so feel free to let me know what ya thought. I always get stuck halfway through writing but I hope it wasn’t too hard to read.

Next chapter will be fun.

#wandavison x reader #wandavision imagine #wanda maximoff imagine #stark!reader #tony stark x daughter!reader #teen!reader #daughter!reader #dark!wanda #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #Wanda vision

[eroslove88]

Lord Give Me Strength

✧Pairing: Yandere!Shigaraki x Fem!Reader

✧Warnings: non-con, gagging (just one part), fisting, mentioned death (not major though), threatening, humiliation, mentions of stalking, public-ish, hinted kidnapping, and yandere themes

✧Note: Random ass thought I had on Wednesday so I decided to write it down hope y'all enjoy!

Another Sunday morning, like most Sundays you spent an hour at church. There were different masses but you always attended the one from 12 pm - 1 pm. This one wasn't far from your apartment but it wasn't close either, well from what Shigaraki could tell you only attended because of 'family'.

Like always the church started with a simple, "Good Morning" then you'd all say it back. You'd hate to admit the mass was boring, but family comes first. About 15 minutes in one of the confession room lights turned on. Even well into being an adult your dad still had to nudge you to get your attention to the red light.

With a sigh you walked over to the door with a silver plate at the top that read, "Father Gonzalez". Since you were the only one there you went in closing the door behind you and covering the window in the confession room for privacy. This confession room wasn't like normal confession boxes, it had a wall with a small curtain covering the window where the priest was on the other side, a cushion to kneel on, a table with holy water and a rosary on it behind where the priest sat and a chair right in between the small wall separating you two.

Kneeling you made a cross with your thumb and index finger and began to persinarte (cross one's self, felt weird to say it in English) , "In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. My last confession was last week" you said quietly bowing your head to the closed curtain. Silently you waited for the priest to say something from Holy Scripture but, "Father Gonzalez?" you asked looking up at the curtain.

"What's your name?" a scratchy voice asked from behind the red curtain. This wasn't Father Gonzalez's voice, but even though this should've been alarming you wrote it off as a cold.

"Y/N, Y/N L/N" you said quietly. He's never asked for your name. Nor was he supposed to but here you were just telling this man anyways. Besides you've known him for ever, he's worked here for years. Maybe he was getting Alzheimer's, he was pretty old.

You were about to say something when a dry pale-ish hand with long nails came out from behind the curtain and grabbed a fistful of your hair with his middle finger up pulling you into a deep one sided kiss. The kiss muffled your screams and protests as you tried to push away. But when you opened your eyes you didn't see black ones staring back, but ruby red ones along with light blue hair. He let go and you threw yourself back disconnecting the string of saliva connecting both of your lips.

Scrambling to get up but a hand got the collar of your dress shirt and pulled you back dragging you backwards and pushing you hard onto the baidge wall. You let out a scream only for two long skinny fingers to stop it making you gag on them as they reached your throat, "Don't you dare throw up on them you slutty bitch" he threatened. Now the voice sounded familiar, it was The League of Villain's leader, Shigaraki. "Scream and I'll kill you" he threatened whispering into your ear as he slowly started pulling out his fingers.

Everything was going to fast before you knew it your body was bent over the table knocking over what ever was on there. Shigaraki had one hand gripping your hair and the other hand decaying your skirt, "Stop i-it please" you whispered begging and praying that he didn't drop his last finger. Of course you weren't going to scream especially since one of Japan's most wanted criminals had you in the palm of his hand.

You were only human so you couldn't stop a choked sob from escaping as you felt a skinny wet finger enter your slightly wet pussy. It had caught you off guard so you began gripping the wooden table- but thats when you noticed the pile of dust in the corner, "You want to end up like that priest?" he asked yanking you by your hair so you could face him. Furiously you shook your head but couldn't help but let out a broken moan feeling another finger enter you. Hearing some mumbles of concern from outside made your face turned a darker shade of read and you couldn't stop crying. "Aww is my baby embarrassed?" he asked before licking your salty tears off your red face.

Of course you were but you didn't say anything just whimpered as he added a 3rd finger.

"I said" he paused with a chuckle, "IS MY LITTLE BITCH EMBARRASSED ABOUT ME FISTING HER CUNT!" did he just? He had yelled it out and now you heard the talking getting louder and more concerned voices.

"Y-yes" you whispered as more tears ran down your face making you see a blurry wall.

"I wouldn't have to be this cruel if you had just been obedient the first time" he muttered as he set and eager pace pulling them in and out repeatedly. Slowly you closed your eyes trying to distract yourself from here but this didn't go unnoticed of course, "Eye's open! Nothing's getting you out of this" Shigaraki said pulling your hair your you were facing him.

"Oh god" you said threw gritted teeth feeling another finger enter, "S-stop you'll kill me"

"I'll try not to slip but that all depends of you" his tone had no pity he was serious about this. Your arms and legs were shaking you didn't know how long you could hold yourself before you collapsed. The four fingers went in until the knuckles were out of sight and left one finger out which he bent into his palm and went in with the other four easily.

"S-stop ngh- pleas-" you begged but stopped with a loud moan forgetting there was a mass going on outside when he curled his fingers and hit a certain spot.

"Why would I do that when you seem to be enjoying this" you knew he was referring to dripping core. "Besides I'm guessing I've already hit your sweet spot" he wasn't wrong but you couldn't enjoy this, right? This was definitely wrong.

Pulling you by your hair closer he kissed your tears with chuckle as you whimpered at his now fast pace. It was only getting faster though, the sound of your juices being heard loudly throughout the quiet room. The prayers from outside are what made you remembered where you were, "Pray for me" he demanded still going in and out.

"Ha~ Hail, Holy Queen" you started while sweat was dripping down your red face, "M-Mother of m-m-mercy, our life, our sw-sweetness and our hope" his sweet sadistic grin on his chapped lips only growing with each sentence, "To thee who we cry, p-poor banished children of E-E-Eve" you were getting closer to your climax and just wanted this to end and go home. "T-to thee- ngh, fuck fuck fuck don't stop"

"Finish your prayer" he demanded slowing down to your displeasure.

"Do we s-send u-u-p our our sighs" god you were desperate now even stuttering and repeating words just to cum on his dirty hand, "M-mourning and w-weeping valley of TEARS" you exclaimed when he went in deeper that evem his wrist was gone. "Turn then most gracious A-ahh~ Advocate, th-thine eyes of mer-mercy toward us, and and after this our exile," you were almost done with this nightmare. Just that thought alone made you cry happy tears, "sh-sh-show unto us the blessed fruit of thy womb, Jesus fuck!" one mote sentence then home free, "O clement, O loving, O sweet Virgin Mary!" you said quickly then sighed out a quiet, "amen"

With a loud cry of his name you came on his hand. Finally when he removed his hand licking it clean you fell onto your knees laying your head calmly on the brown table feeling tired and worn out.

You looked over with last energy to a blurry Shigaraki while he took out his what looked like his phone and called someone and all you could make out was, "Kurogiri" the address and then, you saw black.

#tw yandere #bnha yandere #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere my hero academia #bnha smut #mha smut #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki x reader #tomura shiragaki #tw kidnapping #yandere mha #yandere shigaraki #shigaraki x y/n #yandere tomura

[maybe-your-left]

BITCH I AM DEMANDING A FLUFFY PART TWO TO KYLO FORGETTING OUR DATE OKAY?!

I WANT SWEET AND NASTY MAKEUP SEX

HAHAHHA YESSSSS. here is part one of Kylo forgetting our anniversary.

“Hey.”

You sighed into the phone, slumped on the cool leather couch. The TV blaring before you, but you didn’t listen to what was on. It had been two weeks since you kicked Kylo out, the only communication shared were clipped texts and stale ‘Hi’s’ and ‘Byes’ when he needed to pick up clean clothes.

“Hi.”

Kylo took in a slow breath, you could practically feel the air hit your face. So close, yet so far, “Are you gonna be home today?”

“Yup.”

“Cool, I’ll be there at 12 during lunch. I have some shit to grab.”

You bit back sniffling, “Okay,” your voice cracked. “I’ll be here.”

———

You scrolled through your emails, waiting at the kitchen counter for him to show up. You'd applied for some jobs a few days ago if this was really the end of you two. You needed a job, there was no way you could afford living in the penthouse and at some point, Kylo would want it back.

It was in his name anyway, the only thing you really owned without his help was your laptop.

Fingers crossed you'd find something, you haven't worked in almost five years. You didn't need to with Kylo, and he urged you to not work. He wanted to take care of you, provide for you, help you in any way he could. But now, you were left high and dry, not even a single bank account in your name.

You swallowed back another round of tears, no.

No more tears, you'd get through this. You had family who would help, friends that supported you and wanted you to be happy. Even his mom, not that you'd stoop that low, was willing to help you.

It would be better to just cut all ties to him since there was a slim chance he would want to be back together.

You still weren't sure, you missed him. Terribly, barely sleeping because his presence was gone. Jumping towards your phone whenever it rang, hoping it was him on the other side calling to make it up to you.

But the man was stubborn, angry that you kicked him out.

Claiming that his accusations were valid, which wounded you further.

A light knock on the door drew you away from your wallowing, you took a shaky breath before whispering a faint, "it's open."

Kylo walked in slowly, dressed in his work clothes. A button-up, white, with his suit jacket and tight dress pants. His hair was getting longer, the harsh lighting of the kitchen showed a sheen of grease coating it.

And the bags, the bags under his eyes were darker than normal.

A part of you was smug over his appearance.

But the rest of you ached, fighting against your baser instinct to run towards him. So he could take you in his arms while you bathed him in kisses, mourning over the time spent apart.

"Hello," he nodded stiffly towards you. Not making eye contact as he shut the door. Kylo fiddled with the strap on his shoulder, his duffel bag hanging limp. Empty, ready to stuff more things inside before he ran away to whatever place he was staying.

"Hey," you croaked, eyes flitting back to your laptop. Biting your lip as you read through rejection after rejection, no one wanted you. The gaps in your resume were too long, your diploma meant nothing since you had zero experience.

Kylo's shoes scuffed the floor, sniffing loudly before he looked at you.

"I was going to grab some more things," he glanced towards the staircase, "All my stuff is at the dry cleaners right now, I've worn these pants two days in a row."

"That sucks."

He hummed, "Okay," backing away from you slowly. You watched him walk towards the stairs, back tense and straight. His hands were tucked into his pockets, something he did when he was nervous or uncomfortable.

You used to make him comfortable.

Now you just agitated him, even though it wasn't your fault you two were in this mess.

You stayed quiet as he rummaged around upstairs. Doors opening and closing, drawers slamming shut, you briefly heard swearing but you couldn't make it out. You hadn't thrown his stuff away, keeping everything organized. Right down to the hair products that he had left.

Color-coded and alphabetical by the sink.

His footsteps echoed to a stop, maybe he was considering kicking you out...

"Have you seen my black sweater?"

You stilled, his black sweater... "Nope."

A huff in annoyance, "The one that has the hole in the front, from when it got caught while we were in Niagra? It's not in the closet."

That's because I hid it, you thought. You'd been sleeping in it for the past week, it smelled like him and enveloped you like his arms used to. No way you were giving it back, call it a sacrifice of your relationship.

You listened to his slow descent to the kitchen, duffle now stuffed with clothes. He eyed you suspiciously, rolling his tongue along the inside of his cheek. Coming dangerously close to your seat, he angled himself behind you. A little to the left, but enough for him to spy on your computer screen.

"You're applying for jobs?"

You slapped your laptop shut, he didn't need to snoop.

"None of your business, Kylo."

He shrugged, looking up at the ceiling as he replied, "Might be good for you, to get out of the house."

"Mhm."

"You'll want to apply to multiple places," he stepped around you, opening the fridge for a brief glance inside. Spying one of his protein shakes that you hadn't thrown out, wasn't expired yet. Kylo cracked it open and took a small sip, "You won't be able to afford this place with entry-level salaries."

"Yes," you snapped at him, "I know that."

"Just trying to help, (Y/N)."

You climbed off your stool, moving away from him to curl on the couch. Already on the verge of tears, "You aren't helping, you're just being rude."

"Well, it's rude of you to steal my shit when we aren't together anymore."

That made the waterworks start, muffling your sniffles with your fluffy blanket. You tucked yourself away, desperate to disappear. Maybe when you woke up, everything would be back to normal, or you could wake up seven years earlier to avoid ever meeting him. Save yourself from the heartache that was tearing you apart from seam to seam.

You listened to the echo as he walked towards you. Huffing when he saw your shivering form, "I don't know why you're crying. I haven't been staying here for two weeks, we clearly aren't together."

"Whatever, Kylo," you whispered, voice breaking as you took in a wet breath, "Can you just leave?"

"Sure."

------

"I can't afford to stay there mom," you whimpered into the phone, you were stalling in your car. Parked in the garage of the apartment, you had been to an interview. Realizing the pitiful reality of your life, you had already begun to sell your designer clothes. Gucci purses, red bottoms, Tiffany earrings, Cartier bracelets, you name it. Anything that could help you create a bank account was sold off.

"Have you talked to him at all? Kylo wouldn't leave you high and dry, if anything he would pay for you to get an apartment."

"I don't want his help," you hissed.

A pause, "It would be humiliating to ask, I know he's expecting it. After the talk about jobs, he's just been waiting for me to cave and sacrifice my dignity."

"I'm just saying it wouldn't hurt to talk with him, I know you both have been avoiding it after the fight. It could bring you both some closure-or better yet-get you guys back together so I can get some grandbabies."

"Goodbye, mom."

You huffed as you hung up, slamming your head back into your headrest. Maybe you could sell the car, people would pay top dollar for a gold Porsche. But the title was in Kylo's name, birthday present, any money you'd earn would belong to him.

You pulled up your text thread, the last messages sent were from three days ago. He left you on read, you texted him goodnight after a few stale messages about your day and when he could come and move some furniture out. Kylo had gotten an apartment on the upper east side, right by his office. You checked the old Zillow listing, it was huge and ridiculously expensive.

Enough room for him and a new girlfriend, you were certain he was already fucking someone else. With how cruel he was with you, not even trying to make amends. Probably his secretary, she was always a slut. Showing off her tits to him, even when you came to visit. Kylo probably bent her over his desk the day after he left, just because he could.

You swallowed your pride, it was now or never.

Kylo, I think we need to talk.

Send.

Let's see how long it... oh?

What happened, I'm at work right now.

Quick, maybe he got the notification on his laptop.

Could I swing by the office?

Right now?

Yeah.

Typing...

I have a shareholder meeting at 2, make it quick.

You sped towards his work, determined to get there before he changed his mind and banned you from coming. You were shocked he even agreed, maybe he was having a rare good day.

Or forgot that you two were broken up.

After parking, you jogged into the building. No need to say hi to anyone, it was embarrassing enough to be the ex-girlfriend visiting. At least you were dressed up, people wouldn't think you were in the poor house, yet.

You smiled coldly at his secretary, not bothering to tell her what you were here for. Despite her stuttering about him having a meeting at 2, she was totally fucking him. There's no way she wasn't, a man like him can barely go a day without sticking his dick in something.

Whipping open the door, you were met with the uncomfortable silence that blanketed his office. Curtains were drawn, lights on the dimmest setting, the only noises were the door creaking and his fingers typing.

Like he was punishing the words, Kylo was good at breaking keyboards with his aggressive emailing.

You cleared your throat, watching as his eyes briefly flickered towards you before moving back to the screen. Okay, you walked slowly towards his desk. Pulling out a chair as quietly as possible, the leather squeaking when you sat.

Kylo let out a long sigh, leaning away from his screen. "What is it you want to talk about?"

With a harsh swallow, you fiddled with the hem of your skirt. Anything to avoid his penetrating gaze, "I just wanted to talk about, you know."

He blinked, face blank, "Use your words, please. I don't have time to fuck around, I have a business to run."

"I-I-I"

"Spit.it.Out."

"How come you never apologized?"

Silence.

Kylo's jaw clenched and unclenched, leaning back in his chair slowly. Staring directly at you, "This conversation?"

"Yes, I need to know."

"What good is it doing us now?"

"I don't know I just-"

"What are you hoping to gain from this?"

"Kylo-"

He huffed loudly, "I don't have to answer you anymore, we aren't together."

You slammed a fist on his desk, rattling a few pieces he had decorating it. Standing on your wobbling legs, "Listen to me, you can be an asshole all you fucking want but I deserve answers."

Kylo narrowed his eyes, standing slowly before you. His form towering, making you feel even smaller than you already felt. Crawling to his office for closure, and instead, he wanted to argue with you about the necessity of the conversation.

You watched his palms lay flat on the polished wood, crinkling papers he had strewn about.

"If you're here for money, just fucking say it."

"I am not here for-"

Now it was his turn to slam the desk, "Bullshit! You're here to fucking grovel because you don't know how to take care of yourself. Can't even get a second-rate job!"

"You're the one who insisted on taking care of me!"

"So you think it's okay to demand money when we aren't together? Selling off all the shit I bought you to pay the power bills?"

You gaped at him, "I would never."

"Shut up," Kylo spat, leaning further across to be nose to nose, "You forget that I have your email linked to my laptop. I can see every pathetic message about pawning what I worked for. What I provided you, fucking ungrateful."

"How dare you sneak through my email!?"

"It's not sneaking if I have the passwords, darling."

"You can't fucking do that," you pushed away, arms folded while you glanced around the room. All your pictures were gone, more proof that showed he was erasing your existence, "At least I'm not already fucking someone..."

"Excuse me?"

You spoke over your shoulder, "You heard me."

"Are you seriously accusing me of that," Kylo scoffed, "When that's what got us into this mess in the first place?"

You shrugged, "How long have you been fucking her, did you march to her place after I kicked you out?"

"(Y/N)."

"I'm a big girl, I can take it. Just tell me the truth, because there's no way you'd just abandon me if there wasn't someone else."

"(Y/N)."

You spun on your heel, snarling with a finger in his face, "How many women have you replaced me with? Huh? Or is it just your slut of a secretary-"

Kylo flipped his desk, everything crashing to the floor. You screamed as he began to throw items to the walls, tear books off the shelves, kicking his chairs to the ground. Anything he could get his hands on he attempted to tear apart.

"Enough!"

Heavy breaths.

"I'm not fucking anyone else! Are you fucking serious? All I've fucking done is work! Trying to just fucking move on but nooo," he faced you now, cheeks red and puffing. A few tracks of tears streaking towards his jaw, "You-you just have to be right, and have to be the victim of all this when it's both our fucking fault!"

Kylo paced away from you, running his fingers through his hair before crouching down to the floor. Cradling his face in his hands while he took in shaky breaths, "I fucking missed you, so much. It's all I thought about, but every fucking time I came back you ignored me."

"Kylo-"

"No, you fucking iced me out. I could barely speak to you and I wasn't going to do anything over text."

You succumbed to your tears, there was no way to hold them. Choking as you wiped away the floods, "I-I didn't m-mean to, you weren't talking to me Kylo. How was I supposed to r-react?"

Now he was crying, hiccuping in an attempt to steady his breathing and push through it like he always had. But he couldn't stop the tremor in his voice, "You could've told me you loved me or forgave me. Anything would've been better than this."

"Why do I have to be the one to apologize, I'm not the one who forgot our day and manhandled me in the tub! You were drunk, rude, and horrible to me, I deserved an apology."

"I know," he sniffed, "I tried to-the first few times I came back for clothes. But you hid from me."

You nodded slowly, pacing your way towards him. Unsure of how he'd react to you touching him, but you needed to be closer. You shuffled to his side, sliding your back against the gray wall to the floor.

"We've never been good at apologizing."

Kylo sat on the floor, mirroring you against the wall, "At least before, you didn't kick me out. Force me to crash on a couch, you know I don't fit on couches."

You chuckled softly, not wanting to smile at the visual.

"That's why our couch was custom," he laughed too, dull and humorless, "Because I kept sliding off."

"Yup."

Both of you swallowed, throats clicking in unison. Kylo shuffled in a more comfortable position, looking out at the clouded sky that peeked through the shades.

"For what it's worth, I am sorry."

A breath, "I never meant to miss our day, and I thought you were finished with me. I should've just spoken to you instead of drink, but that doesn't mean much now."

You hummed, "Thank you."

"I can write you a check," he sighed, "So you can get another place and still keep whatever's left of your collections."

"You don't-"

"I know I don't."

Kylo wrote you a check for half a million dollars, not looking at you when he ripped it from his checkbook. He mumbled about the bank may be needing to call him to confirm it, just have them call my office number.

Sending you off without another word.

------

Your new apartment was cute, small, perfect for you.

Light and airy, none of the fixtures were black or red. Hues of pink, coral, green, and blue danced around the rooms. Your couch was velvet, just because you wanted it to be. With an abundance of pillows and candles on every surface, you could fit them onto.

Your bed was a four-poster with a dreamy white canopy, soft and cloudlike bedding scrunched up from however you left them. No one was running around frantic to make the bed, or straighten the blinds, or draw the curtains, it was just yours.

The check was cashed with little fuss, you tried not to cry about it. You dropped off the old house keys at Kylos office, along with your car keys, there was no need to keep the Porsche. You weren't living that life anymore, you could buy your own car now! And it would be yours, it was too hard to drive the gift everywhere.

Kylo told you to keep the car when he found the keys, but you ignored his messages. He wouldn’t understand why you wouldn’t keep it, but that was his problem.

You sighed into your couch, looking at the TV nestled next to the bay window. Imagining where you could squish more houseplants… you already had an abundance but it wouldn’t hurt.

Your phone began to vibrate on the coffee table, startling you as you scrambled towards it. Oh, it was Kylo, odd.

“Hey?”

“Hey.”

“Uh,” you stood from the floor, scratching your cheek as you walked. “What’s up?”

He cleared his throat, “I saw you got a place, wanted to drop off a housewarming gift.”

Your face scrunched, balancing the phone between your face and shoulder. Popping a potato chip in your mouth, “Why would you do that?”

A sigh, “Can you just buzz me in? I brought wine…”

“Whatever.”

Kylo came in with a tight smile, dressed in some black joggers and a gray t-shirt. He looked like he just rolled out of bed, not his typical look on a weekday. He held up a brown paper bag, Whole Foods on the label.

"You went to Whole Foods?" you raised a concerned brow.

"Nope," he set the bag on your kitchen table, eying the plants and crystals that littered your living room. A few magazines were strewn around on the surface, "I had my secretary do it."

You glared at him, which he noticed before shaking his head rapidly, "New secretary-not the old one. His name is Brady, he's very nice."

Kylo stood with his hands in his pockets, glancing in every direction as you approached the bag. Humming when you began pulling out the goodies he had, as promised there was a bottle of wine. Your favorite, along with a set of glasses.

A clear purple tinge, almost vintage looking. Some of your favorite fruit, he blushed when you held them up to his eyes. Mumbling how you never had enough of them in the past, and it was their season.

Now you were blushing, finding some red velvet cupcakes. Packaged beautifully, and a small vase in the shape of a kitty. You placed it on the table, looking at it over and over. Biting your lip as you waited for something to happen.

"I like your place," Kylo croaked out, "It's very bright."

You chuckled, "You're just used to your eyes straining from all the red and black decor."

He hummed, walking down your hallway. Glancing indoors that were left open until he made it to your bedroom. You heard him groan when he saw the white sheets and canopy, Kylo whistled for you.

Obediently, you pranced towards him, taken aback when he was sprawled on your mattress. Facedown with his face in your pillow, groaning like he was trying to wake up from a good dream.

"I fucking forgot how good you smelled," he moaned out, looking over at you lazily, "What would I have to do to get you to make out with me in here?"

------

LOL, this was long, but I'll do a part three if you would enjoy the rest of their reunion.

TAGGING: @finn-ray-nal-beads​​​ @onlykyloscenes​​​ @candycanes19​​​ @historyandfandoms50​​​ @caelum-phyriina-vermillon​​​ @ghoulian13​​​ @mrs-kylo-ren​​​ @millenialcatlady​​​​ @relationshipwithmybed​​ @dancingmicrobes​​​ @wayward-rose​​​ @contesa-lui-alucard​​​ @daydreamsofren​​​ @insufferablelust​​​ @ohdamnadamm​​​ @mariesackler​​​ @caillea​​ @safarigirlsp​​ @jalexunderthestars​​​ @shesakillerkween​​​ @glassythoughts​​ @zimmermansbrat​​ @not-the-teen-witch​​ @jynzandtonic​ @roanniom​ @celestiasin @glassbxttles @cornmousequeen @driversmutbucket @blowthatpieceofjunk

Here is the link to my Mega Masterlist for all your stalking needs...

#adam driver #adamdriver #kylo ren #boyfriend kylo ren #modern kylo ren #part two of our angsty part one #my writing #maybe-your-left

[alreadyblondenow]

Black on black | Lucas Wong

▸ Lucas x reader ▸ Smut, Sprinkle of angst, devil au ▸ HALLOWEEN SERIES: 127 HOUSE ▸ 3/5 for NEOHALLOWEEN writing festival hosted by @nct-writers

Summary: We’ve read different stories about humans summoning demons to ask them for a favor but what happens if, the devil himself summons humans so he can have his own fun? The devil himself strikes a deal with a sinner to save her from the trouble she singlehandedly caused in exchange for her to accept the torture that the devil has planned for her. In bed. But an unexpected turn of events happened that even the devil himself did not see it coming.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Rough sex, bleeding while sex, choking, swearing, mentions of alcohol, blood play?, bleeding, unprotected sex, mentions of blackmail, filth, straight up filth, fingering, it’s the devil so its rough sex click away if you’re not into that, mentions of depression

A/N: PURE FILTH. I made this as a breather from the two fics before this hehe. Pure fiction and inspired by some movies of course. Don’t expect that this is good like the two fics before this hehehehhehe I just wanted to write for Lucas, finally. 

Taglist: Again, I hope I didn’t miss anyone, if yes please do message me so I can apologize huhu @huangxx @fruityutas @floweringtheflowers​

Growing up, we’ve read different stories about humans summoning demons to ask them for a favor but what happens if, the devil himself summons humans so he can have his own fun? Execute his own way of torturing humans even if they’re still alive and breathing here on Earth?

Lucas, the devil himself. Comes to play in our world during Devil’s Night, his night. It’s like a birthday party for him but nobody knows who he is just how he likes it. He made this huge party for his own pleasure, looking at the humans wearing different costumes, reading their faces, and waiting for a perfect timing. He is specifically looking for someone he can ruin for a good laugh. Someone whom he can ruin in the sheets but also ruin her spirits, her point of view in life, her way of thinking.

The house your friend brought you in was loud and blaring for Halloween night. It was a house and not a club, but the party was so wild that it looked like a club from the outside. Everyone is dressed perfectly for Halloween and tonight, you dressed how you feel. Black wings, black dress, black everything. Perfect for mourning your innocence, purity, and dignity.  

You plan on drinking and pouring all your sorrows at the dance floor, flirt a little if life permits, and maybe go home with a random stranger and have a one night stand. It was a desperate call, you just want to forget your stupidity, feel numb, and be distracted. Fuck morality you said to yourself.

“Did you eat before we get here? You already look fucking wasted” your friend asked, shouting at you so you can hear her.

“No. But I’m fine” you answer her after downing a tequila shot. You feel tired already from too much dancing, mingling with strangers but no one is interesting enough. Little did you know, someone is very interested in you.

He can smell your pain, your struggles, and your desperate call. Your sin is fresh for him and you’re in need of torture, he has a great feeling that he will enjoy this night. The thought of it makes Lucas blush and feel excited for the cherry on top of this night. He was smiling darkly on his little corner, watching your every move, entertained on how you down your alcohols with so much desperation to feel numb.

You drown yourself in the sea of people, dance with strangers who reeks of alcohol, feeling and letting the alcohol get into your system. Everything was blurry. The party lights change every second following the beat of the music. You watch the surroundings turn colored to black, colored to black, colored to black.

“Oh” until someone handsome startled you and appeared in front of you out of nowhere. Looking into his eyes made everything slow, maybe it’s just the alcohol or simply because he’s just handsome and dreamy.

“I think you’re the one for me” shameless. Bold. Just like that, he has you wrapped around his finger.

“Do I know you?” you tried stopping your smile and with your best effort, you put on a serious face. But he can see right through you.

He smirked and came closer, smelling your perfume, and shamelessly bit your left ear. “No. But I know what you did yesterday” you pushed him away but the man was strong and enticing. He held you close to him, holding you on your waist as your eyes are finally captured by his. “I know what you did to get your promotion, such a bad girl you are” you feel his hand slide under your dress, caressing the softness of your skin.

“Tell me the truth, does it feel good to blackmail your boss by forcing him to have sex with you and secretly make a sex tape? Scaring him that you will show it to his wife and his three daughters?” he chuckled darkly while he enjoys watching you get scared.

“Fuck you! I deserve this promotion-“ you croaked, feeling your tears run down your cheeks. But you won’t let this man get inside your head and tried to put up a fight, showed him you’re not scared. Lucas became even more entertained when he saw you cry and fake your bravery.

He didn’t expect you to be quite a fighter and a little fierce, but he loves a good challenge. And you’re definitely it. “Of course you do, but I’m not here to expose you. I want to give you a deal. I will make this all go away, but receive the torture that I have planned for you tonight” his voice became even more inviting and to be completely honest you’re open to accept anything and desperate to make it all go away. What you did was something you want to forget, you’re not a bad person just a very desperate one.

“Who are you? How can you make this all go away, I don’t want anyone to get hurt” He played with the strap of your bra that fell off your shoulder, running his thumb on your clothed nipple. By this time you feel so nervous because you have no idea what this man can do to you.

“I’m the devil and you’re in big trouble clever girl”

You saw it in your own eyes. Under the flicking lights. His face became scaly, the horns on his head look too good to be fake, red dark eyes that hold terror, teeth sharp and dirty as he laughs at you. Then suddenly returned to his handsome form, the one you can stomach to look at.

“F-fine, I’ll do everything you want. Since you��re not giving me any choice here but after this deal, I never want to see you again” you looked at him with scared eyes but still, you stood in front of him with the right amount of bravery.

“You’re not in the position to ask for something. Just enjoy this privilege” the way he kisses your cheek so softly disgusts you after seeing his true form.

For you, you only agreed to do this because the night can come and go. The sun will soon rise and you will be given another day to start over and forget about this night. Just like any other one night stand, you just have to make the sex count, enjoy yourself, and then forget about everything. What can possibly go wrong? You were looking forward to a good fuck tonight anyway.

‘Receive the torture that I have planned for you tonight’ those words linger in your mind like a promise that you’re waiting for him to fulfill. It irritates you how he’s just devouring you while you sit comfortably on his lap by the edge of his massive bed. His dress shirt is only half unbuttoned and you don’t know why you’re itching to get him naked already. So with all your confidence, you unbutton his shirt fully and expose his perfect body.

It made you speechless. Tan skin, perfect chest, abs hard as a rock. It amuses him how you’re completely enchanted by his body. “Remove your clothes, leave your panties” you do as you’re told, removing your own clothes while you kept your eyes lock on the man in front of you. “Perfect” he whispered, brushing his fingers on your now exposed nipples. Soft and slow, making it sensitive, making you whine and turn your head around as you roll your hips slowly on his clothed cock. He is big you’re sure of it.

He puts his thumb on your clothed clit, touching you with the utmost care, taking his time with you, and returning his lips on your neck. “Wheres that torture you were talking about?” you whine out your concern, still waiting for that promise.

“Shut up” is all he said. But it wasn’t stern. It was in an airy tone in between kissing your neck and your boobs, he almost sounded weak but that’s impossible.

He roughly put you in bed, ruined your panties in one go, and spread your legs like you’re just nothing. It was quite a rush and it happened so fast. You don’t know when did he remove his pants and underwear but he is now devouring the valley between your boobs, kissing it softly while his hand caresses your legs like he owns you.

Did it sink in already to you? That you’re now naked in bed and about to have sex with the devil?

His hard cock brushes on the insides of your thighs, feeling how big it is and already doubting if it could fit inside you. “It will” he whispers, ah, he can read your mind. Great. “fuck me already” you spoke to him in your mind, which made him smile.

“How many times do I have to tell you, you’re not in the position to ask for something” he bit your lower lip and made you bleed. He licks the blood and licked your lips. How surprising, you like what he’s doing so you wrapped your arms around him and did the same thing to him.

You bit his lips. Let it bleed and lick his lips right in front of his eyes.

Lo and behold. This is the first time a human surprised him with such boldness. As much as it hurts his pride being continuously challenged, he still wants to see your face when he finally ruins you. But it seems like your touch is ruining him, the way your hands roam around his back is addicting for him. How can this be? “Don’t touch me” he said, but this time it wasn’t soft. He sounded angry and frustrated. But you didn’t stop and continue touching him, irritating him more with your touch forcing him to kiss you.

“I said don’t touch me” he repeats and you feel his skin getting warmer like a kettle on the stove.

“No. Let me touch you, that way you can enjoy more”

It’s not that you already found out that your touch affects him. He is naturally enticing, luring, and handsome. There’s no way you will let this moment pass without having your own fun. A handsome man is on top of you, perfect kissable thin lips, beautiful body with perfectly tanned skin, you don’t care anymore if his eyes turned red and dark.

Lucas on the other hand has never seen anyone look at him with full admiration. How you swirl your finger around his nipples, and kiss him with all the lust you have surprised him. He didn’t expect this kind of pleasure, he felt like a king.  

Desperate people can do horrible things like sleeping with the devil. “Are we going to fuck or are we just going to admire each other for the whole night?” you asked him and he was challenged. He lifts your hips and rests it on his thigh, dragging you completely on the mattress as he spread your legs even wider than before. “I’m completely aware that you’re not a virgin anymore… but tonight I’m gonna make you bleed. I will hurt you and you” there was his scary tone again that sends a shiver in your spine and widen your eyes.

“Hmm?” the answer to your question was answered by one swift move.

Lucas rammed his cock in your tight walls, not giving a fuck if it hurts you. “Shit!” you covered your mouth and breathed deeply as you feel Lucas pulling out completely and ramming his cock again inside you.

It hurt. But just like the first time you had sex, the pain was gone after a few hard thrusts.

He did make you feel like a virgin again and that completely blows your mind. How? As expected, it was a good fuck. Better than anything you’ve had and you’re happy you gave in. So happy that you were smiling while hurting, moaning a string of curses while his fingers dig on your skin.

He pulled out his cock and ran a finger on your slit. The bold move made you whine and you feel your bud so sensitive. He showed you his middle finger with your blood on it, smirked, and licked his finger clean with a devilish smile. He went back to fucking you real hard your head bumps on his headboard. The way he was fucking you was like he haven't had sex for a year.

He cums inside you and started to roll his hips slowly. “I need to rest. Go slow” again, your body is answering to him. Your arms wrapped around his neck, he’s giving in from your touch.

“Did your boss made you bleed this good when he was fucking you on his table yesterday?” he asks while still rolling his hips oh so slowly and showering your neck with kisses. He wasn’t tired at all even though he’s grunting and breathing heavily. You feel his soft touches again around your chest, tracing your collar bone but when his hand reaches your neck, he suddenly chokes you and thrust quickly putting you on edge again.

“Harder,” you said, struggling but it pleasures you. You are truly the perfect one for him he thought. As he went harder, choking you until you reach your high again, you watch him smile in satisfaction kissing you while choking and fucking you hard amuses him to the core.  

Oh, how he loved the sex! After cumming inside you, he finally let go of your neck, letting you cough and catch your breath. Your body feels weak and tired, he definitely worn you out but he seems ready to go for another round, so this time you beg. “Please. Rest”

He chuckled and continued kissing your body, devouring your lips, making your nipples swollen. You noticed he’s making you touch him now, he seems to be addicted to your touch at this point. He can’t stop holding your hand, intertwine it with his, and whenever you pull your hand away just to teas him he grips it hard and wrap your arms around his neck.

Still body to body and his cock inside you, Lucas was asking for another round but you refuse. He might be the devil but consent is still important. You refuse and refuse until he gets tired of asking. “Okay. I give up. But that was-“

“Great? Awesome? Admit it you’re already looking forward to seeing me again” you were still struggling to talk from too much choking, the feeling of his big hands around your neck still lingers on your skin.

“Come to Hell with me. You’re the best I’ve had so far- I can make you rich, I’ll give everything you want” he reaches for your hand and placed a soft kiss at the back of it.

“Did you forget that I agreed to this because I have a perfect life here? Don’t forget your part of the bargain, hmm?” it completely surprised him how you easily refused his offer and still embraced your life here. After everything that happened in his bed, he still can’t believe you don’t want to stay with him.

When you got up to clean his cum dripping from your legs and prepare yourself to come home, he stopped you from leaving his room. Kissed you more and for the first time in his entire existence, he begged. “I’m not going to say it again, it hurts my pride. Stay with me”

“Do you love me? After we fucked like that? You suddenly love me?”

“I don’t love you”

“Then I don’t have any reason to stay and come with you” you kissed him one last time like what you always do to every man you slept with.

He felt betrayed, frustrated, and annoyed.

After having sex with him, you left his house limping and sore but quite glowing because of the amazing sex. It was fun while it lasted, but all good things come to an end.

Lucas did make it all go away. He gave you a clean spot for the promotions, deleted your boss’s memories about you blackmailing him, and he deleted the only evidence of what you did beforehand. It was like magic for you and you got all these for free by just having sex with him. What a win-win situation. Your life became perfect as it can be after that night in 127 House. No one can take this all away from you. Or so you thought.

He built your career in just one snap of his finger, the same goes for how he ruined your life. Just because you hurt his pride and refused his offer. After a few months, he released the video to the police and got you arrested. Laughing on the side as he watches you get your hands cuffed. Listening to your cries in jail, it’s like a lullaby for him. But that’s not where his torture ends, he even ruined your mental health. Made you depressed while you were doing time, made your family turn their backs against you. Not even one visit for a year.

That’s why you quickly jumped in bed when finally someone remembered you. Even just one visit from your family can lift your spirits.

But he wasn’t family.

“You did all this!” without hesitation you shouted at him, showing your anger from your side of the room. But he was just sitting there, watching you cry and shout. Smirking.

“Shut up. I’m here to offer something” there he is again with his twisted deals, “Come down there with me. I have a contract here, just to make everything professional and tidy. Sign it. Or you will suffer more”

He was sitting cooly in front of you, like a rich man buying a piece of a very expensive jewelry. One of the guards un-cuffed you and handed you a pen and the contract that will make everything go away. Is being with him for all eternity better than jail? Will he finally keep his word this time? What if one day he found another woman who can offer the same things?  

“You said you don’t love me”

“I lied. I don’t know what love means but if it's close to obsession, then I’m obsessed with you.”

“Why can't you leave me alone?”

He chuckled darkly and leaned closer to the glass that’s keeping you away from each other. “You’re in love with danger and all things dark that's why I can't let go of you. You are, truly the one for me” You turned silent and he just watched you cry in front of the contract, gripping your pen and confused as fuck. He was running out of patience.  

“Are you going to sign that or I will make you?”

For the last time, you read the contract and read the words ‘forever’ over and over again and looked at Lucas before you sign it. Forever with this man? you signed it with a heavy heart and smashed the pen on the table and cry some more.

“Lastly,” he stood up from his seat, buttoning his coat and fixing his sleeve. “Say that you love me” he smirked again in front of you, giving you no choice.

“I love you”

He looked deep in your eyes for some time, smelling your fear through the glass. And with one snap, the glass was gone. It didn’t surprise you this time, you’re well aware of what he’s capable of. In the first place, he ruined your life.

He snapped his fingers again, but this time you’re surprised. “Did you know that after you cleaned my dripping cum from your legs that night you come to bed with me and we had sex again- oh! It was better than the first and second round!”

Flashbacks in your head were playing, as you remember how he lured you in bed that night again. The way you removed your dress in front of him again was so clear this time, he was smiling and you were enjoying his touch. You closed your eyes and the next memory that played in your head was how he put your hands above your head, fingers intertwined with his and the feeling of your fingers gripping tightly still ghosts your hands until now.

“It was all an illusion Y/n. You never left 127 House, I just made you believe that you’re in jail. If you thought that it was already a year, well, it’s only been three days”  

#nct-writers #neohalloween #kdiner #unfortunatus: inferno #nct smut #wayv smut #wayv wong yukhei smut #lucas smut #nct scenarios #wayv scenarios #wayv imagines #nct imagines #nct lucas smut

[bucketofcowboys]

I Don’t Mind

Just a short drabble I wrote at 3 am :)

It’s pretty short so I’ll be posting it on AO3 and tumblr

Relationship: Kazuma Kiryu/Goro Majima, Kazuma Kiryu & Haruka Sawamura, Goro Majima & Haruka Sawamura

Warning: NSFW but not complete NSFW-- turns into domestic fluff

Words: 1,748

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29952348

Summary: The only thing he could really think of in that moment was a stream of consecutive, desperate, 'no's. Don't get him wrong, he loved Haru-Chan. Haru-Chan is an absolute treasure to be around and every moment spent with her was a moment coated in diamonds and gold, but right now was not one of those moments. Not when he is so damn close to getting off.

(aka. Kiryu and Majima are getting it on but have to put it to a halt when Haruka has a nightmare)

----

Riding Kiryu was like riding a fucking bull. All hard muscles and sweat, squeezing his thighs just hard enough to not get bucked off, and feeling the sweet satisfaction of victory each minute he stayed on. Though, he was sure in actual bull riding the bull wouldn't be making noises like Kiryu did. He didn't even think bulls had the proper vocal chords to moan his name. Kiryu definitely did, and God, he found every way to roll around the name 'Majima' in his mouth until the name didn't even sound like a name anymore. Maybe a war cry or the last thing a man says when he takes his dying breath. 

Majima was close, and he wouldn't stop for anything. The only thing he wanted in that moment was to paint white across Kiryu's abdomen until they're both shaking, sputtering messes of human putty. He grabbed ahold of his own cock and stroked himself with a wet and fast pace. His back arched and he slammed down hard onto Kiryu's dick until he was whining like a kicked puppy. Kiryu looked so good like that, lips pink and puffy with kiss-abused bruises, parted beautifully in ecstacy, skin flushed cherry red from his cheeks all the way down to his ears, eyes half lidded and pupils dilated as he tried to watch the show Majima was giving him. He looked like a meal to be devoured and Majima was absolutely fucking famished. He could just eat him up. He wanted to eat him up.

"M'gonna cum baby, you gonna cum too? Wanna cum inside me baby? Fill my tight lil' hole, huh?" Majima blabbered out and Kiryu nodded enthusiastically. He smirked. "Ya so pretty. God, ya so pretty..." 

He leaned down and captured Kiryu's swollen lips in a kiss. He stole each noise that left Kiryu's mouth and swallowed it down like a man dying of dehydration. Their lips moved sporadically and Majima's teeth clacked against Kiryu's with every downwards movement. He ran his hands though that carefully slicked back hair and tugged until each strand of black stuck out at odd ends, ruining every last bit of collectiveness the other man had. He wanted to ravish him, destroy him, leave nothing but bone in his wake. 

He could feel himself getting closer and closer with each movement of his hips. He moved at different angles each time, trying his best to find the best way to hit his prostate and when he did, a throaty groan left him. He needed this. He needed this like he needed a pulse. He needed this like he needed food and water. He needed this like he needed to breathe. 

He felt that pressure building up quick inside of him, and he's just about to spill over like blood from a fresh stab wound when--

Knock knock

Two gentle hits on hardwood broke their near-orgasmic haze. Kiryu put his hands on Majima's hips and gripped hard to pull him down and stop his movements. Majima whined with frustration and Kiryu quickly shushed him. They sat in silence for a moment, Kiryu listening closely for any other noise like a dog listens for an intruder late in the night. Majima was almost convinced his ears were gonna perk up, and maybe he'd even start panting with his tongue out for show. 

"Ojisan?" A quiet voice muffled by the thick door of the bedroom finally rang out. Majima began to feel his whole world crashing down. 

The only thing he could really think of in that moment was a stream of consecutive, desperate, 'no's. Don't get him wrong, he loved Haru-Chan. Haru-Chan is an absolute treasure to be around and every moment spent with her was a moment coated in diamonds and gold, but right now was not one of those moments. Not when he is so damn close to getting off. 

"Get off, Majima..." Kiryu said softly, apologetic. Funny, cause that was exactly what he wanted.

"Maybe if we stay quiet, she'll go away." Majima didn't know if he was joking or not at this point. He was so desperate, clinging to any last scraps of being able to get off by the end of the night. Kiryu shot him a disapproving glare likened to that of a stern mother goose. He wouldn't even humor him. A damn shame. 

Majima sighed and begrudgingly sat up, shivering at the empty feeling and collapsing on the bed next to Kiryu. He couldn't even look up before Kiryu was up from the bed and fumbling to pull his clothes back on. Majima watched with a mournful stare as all of that beautiful tanned skin was covered in seconds. A depressing loss. He was so distracted by planning a funeral for Kiryu's naked ass that he didn't have time to react when something wacked him in the face.

"Hey--!" It took him a moment to realize that he had thrown his boxers at him.

"Get dressed." Kiryu grunted, standing there and crossing his arms as he waited for him to comply. Majima huffed, but he did as he was told, lazily pulling his boxers up his legs. It was like a snake slithering back into its shed skin-- unnatural and uncomfortable. Once he was done he rolled himself up in Kiryu's comforter and buried his face in the mattress like a moody toddler. He could almost feel Kiryu rolling his eyes.

Another gentle knock interrupted them, but this time it was followed by a few sniffles. Oh yeah, this was bad. 

Majima lifted his head until his good eye was poking up. Kiryu was already at the door, rushing to Haruka’s aid like the good parental figure he was.

"What's the matter?" His voice was soft as he spoke to her, the kind of soft that sent shivers down Majima's spine. Haruka was standing in the doorway in her pj's with tears staining her flushed cheeks. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and sniffled a few times to try and regain her composure. 

"I... I had a bad dream.” She finally fessed up. Her shoulders shuddered as she tried to hold back from becoming a sobbing mess. Kiryu kneeled down and gently gasped at her shoulders, one hand gently stroking the tears away from her cheek. So soft. So domestic. Majima could almost feel his heart melting into a puddle in his chest. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Haruka quickly shook her head, and he just nodded. 

“Can I come in?” She asked. Kiryu looked back at Majima with a look that was somehow apologetic and pleading at the same time. Haruka must have not noticed Majima’s presence, somehow, because she cocked her head up and startled when she saw him.

“Hi Majima-ojisan.” She said with a sniffle. Majima tried to offer her a genuine smile, mustering as much sunshine and rainbows he could in that moment and putting it all into a toothy grin, which looked much more frightening than Majima thought it did.

“Hey Haru-Chan.” Haruka wasn’t unfamiliar with Majima loitering around her and Kiryu's apartment, or at least not anymore. At this point he was over here more than he was at his own apartment. He patted a spot of the comforter next to him in a silent invitation. She quickly complied and crawled up onto the bed and plopped down next to him. 

She looked up at him and her eyes were filled with lingering tears that threatened to spill with every fan of her lashes. She was such a sad sight to see, he could almost hear his heart shattering into pieces. 

"Hey squirt, whatever's botherin' ya right now, forget about it." He placed a hand on her head and gently ruffled her hair, "Me and your pops are gonna protect ya from any monsters ya had in your nightmare, promise."

The bedroom light flickered off and soon the bed frame was squeaking in disapproval as Kiryu crawled onto the bed to join them. He shuffled up on the other side of Haruka and nodded into the conversation. 

"We're strong, we can take them." Kiryu added, laying on his side with a gentle smile on his lips. Haruka sniffled a bit, but she didn't seem like she was on the edge of bursting anymore. She rubbed her eyes, now raw from sobbing and a lack of sleep, and yawned.

"Can I sleep here? I don't want to go back to my room." She asked, but she was already curling up at Kiryu's side without an answer.

"Of course." Kiryu muttered, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a kiss to her head. He then looked up at Majima with a frown on his lips and eyes that read; 'I'm so sorry' over and over again like a news ticker. "You don't have to stay if you don't want to."

"I don't mind." And he didn't. Sure, he was a bit upset about the major cockblocking he just got, but he could deal. Haruka meant a lot to Kiryu, he wasn't just gonna get all pissy because he was being a good parent. 

Plus, it was all worth it, because Kiryu shot him a look that brought troves of butterflies to his stomach. A look that read so many emotions, none of which Majima felt comfortable naming. All he knew was that it felt nice to be looked at like that. Really fucking nice. Kiryu leaned as far forwards as he could with Haruka tucked beneath his chin and Majima met him halfway in a kiss. 

"I'll make it up to you." He insisted, and Majima flicked his cheek.

"Nah, shuddup. I already said I don't mind, now go to sleep." Kiryu gave a huff of his nostrils in protest, but didn't say anything else. He just pressed another peck to Majima's lips and pulled him closer until the three of them were squished together in a warm embrace.

This definitely wasn't the way he thought this night was going to end, but he had no qualms with it. The domesticality of it all was tooth rotting-ly sweet, and he hated to admit it but Kiryu looked cute as hell with Haruka sleeping in his arms, almost like a mama bear snuggling her cub close. Haruka slept sounder than she ever had that night with Majima and Kiryu there to protect her, and Majima fell asleep with a nice feeling of home settled in his chest.

#fic #my writing #my fic #kazumaji #kazuma kiryu #goro majima #haruka sawamura #nsft #domestic fluff #quick drabble

[ultimatetornshipper]

Daminette December Day 5

@daminette-december2019-2020

I can’t believe I’m doing this oms, Sweaters didn’t exist okay? I had no choice!! lmaooo no regrets tho, I’m loving where this fic is going. 

Anyway thank you for everyone who left such lovely comments on the previous chapter I literally almost cried thank you!!

Princes and Pedestals

Chapter 5 – Sweater

Previous

Next

“Oh I can’t wait to show you the stables, we each have our own horse. I named mine Lavender, since my favorite color is purple. Cass's is named Rose, Dick's is Robin, Damian’s is Ace, Tim named his Cloud and Jason...,” Stephanie stopped walking and released Marinette’s hand, turning around, she sighed, “Well, you should know, Jason was ten when he got his and the horse had been sick and well... it resulted in him naming the poor animal Sweater. He refuses to change it,”

Marinette laughed at Stephanie’s clear annoyance with this fact. She’d come to her room this morning and simply insisted that she show her the stables before negotiations regarding their alliance took place. Marinette had agreed, she was coming to quite like this girl and her energetic nature.

Stephanie kept walking, this time at a slower pace, she lead Marinette out of the castle and greeted the gardeners. The servants they passed greeted her back and smiled widely, everyone was clearly fond of her. Marinette couldn’t blame them, Stephanie’s energy was contagious.

“You’ll probably get your own one-,” she started, before interrupting herself, eyes widening, she laughed nervously, “I mean if you stay long enough you’ll practically be family so I wouldn’t be surprised, if you got one, that is,”

Marinette thought her behavior was strange but she’d found that questioning Stephanie’s actions only led to more questions.

“Hey Steph, wait up!” someone yelled. Marinette turned towards the voice, seeing Prince Richard approaching them. He was the only brother at the summer castle she hadn’t informally met yet.

When he caught up to them, he nodded his head to her, “Your Majesty,”

She returned the gesture, smiling, “Your Highness, feel free to call me Marinette,”

She saw approval flicker across his eyes, he smiled back, “As long as you agree to call me Dick. Where are you two ladies going this fine morning?”

Stephanie rolled her eyes at him and started walking again, “Calm down, worry wart, I’m just taking her to the stables. Wanna join us?”

“I’d love to,” Dick replied, walking along with her and Stephanie. He looked towards Marinette, “She tell you about their names yet?”

She nodded slowly, “Yeah, she did. Do you mind me asking why you named yours Robin?”

“Robin was my mother’s nickname,” he said, a sad smile on his face, he shrugged, “I guess when I first got here I just wanted something to remind me of her, naming my horse after her... it helped ease my grief,”

Marinette felt as though a knife was being twisted in her heart, the black dress she wore suddenly heavier than usual. It was then that she realized that she only had two days left before her mourning period was officially over. Two days before a year was over since it had happened.

She realized they were both looking at her, she needed to respond. She looked up and smiled at him, nodding, “I can understand that,”

Stephanie touched her shoulder and looked her in the eye, “I-,”

Marinette gave her a meaningful look and shook her head. Stephanie searched her gaze for a few seconds before she nodded solemnly and opened the door they’d stopped in front of. She walked through and started pointing out which horse was which.

The atmosphere was heavier than it had been, but as they progressed it seemed to lift. Marinette zoned them out slightly, making all the right faces and noises. She wouldn’t be surprised if they knew she was faking it, given their demonstrated ability to read people, but she couldn’t bring herself to care in the moment.

She thought back. There really only was two days left. A year ago today they’d been laughing, playing card games and pretending that everything was alright. They'd known the end was near and wanted the last few days of his life to be happy.

Outside his room the atmosphere had been sad, Rose was crying while Juleka softly scratched her back. Nino had been torn apart, clutching on to Alya's hand for dear life, the red head trying to console him. And Marinette... Marinette had held herself together. She held all of them together.

And when he finally faded, she’d made herself go numb, but people looked at her like she was seconds away from falling apart anyway. And maybe she was.

She hadn’t been able to take it, though. She’d disappeared for a week under the guise of going on a mission. She went to their base near the north western shore and there she cried more than she thought anyone should be able to. Chloe and Luka had kept everyone away at her request and she’d screamed and mourned and grieved. But after that week she didn’t shed a single tear again.

She returned and refused to speak about what she’d done during her week or where she’d gone. She’d comforted everyone else and after a few days they stopped asking questions. She’d organized his funeral and worn her black dresses.

And she’d been wearing them ever since, they were the only outward sign that anything was possibly wrong.

She never spoke of it. But she only had two days left. Tomorrow a year ago he died. And she had no idea how she was going to make it out alive.

After half an hour in the stables listening to Stephanie and Dick's stories they made their way inside and had breakfast before she met up with Master Fu to finalize their thoughts and preparations for the negotiations of the alliance.

She sat next to him on one of the many benches in the castle hall. After a few seconds, she broke the silence, “He’s my match,”

Master Fu nodded slowly, “I sensed it too, you have the ring then?”

She nodded and removed said object from one of the many pockets in her gown. She curled her fist tightly around it.

“I assume you wish to offer him the position?” he said, still only staring straight ahead.

“Yes,” she replied, her heart heavy, responsibility weighing her down.

“I trust you, Guardian,” he said, pausing, he looked at her, “I am proud of who you’ve become Marinette,”

The words meant more to her than she wanted them to, she didn’t want to care what he thought. It was because of him that the ring had been given to the wrong person in the first place. He hadn’t even told them when he’d realized and it lead to the boy she’d loved’s death.

They reviewed the terms of the alliance and headed over to the room where negotiations would take place.

When she entered everyone inside stood, proper greetings were exchanged and everyone sat. The king and all the children she’d met were sitting on one side of the table, she and Master Fu sat down on the other side.

The atmosphere was different here. Stephanie smiled at her but it didn’t really reach her eyes. They had something on the line, Marinette was itching to know what.

Had she been wrong in thinking they didn’t need this alliance as much as she and her court did?

They discussed the terms and though a few compromises were made, it all went over rather smoothly. She and King Bruce did most of the talking while the others rarely spoke.

“Right, now that we have most of the details sorted out, we have a proposal for the type of alliance we wish to establish,” King Bruce said, she noticed all the siblings tense, Damian's destruction and chaos spiked. That was strange, did they know something of this proposal?

“Yes?” she replied warily, all eyes were on her, but she kept her gaze locked on the King.

“I propose we strengthen this alliance with a marriage, between you and my son,” he said simply.

The room held its breath. She saw Fu move, about to reply but she held her hand up to stop him. She was intrigued by his offer, and if could easily work out in her favor if she played her cards right.

She held the King’s gaze, she had a feeling she already knew the answer but she asked anyway, “Which one?”

“Damian, my youngest,” he replied immediately. She’d been right, this would make her life much easier. It also showed her that, for some reason, they needed this alliance too.

She looked at where the siblings were sitting, they were all staring at her, clearly trying to gouge her reaction. But she kept her face perfectly blank.

Then she made the mistake of meeting his gaze. The green eyes flung her back in time and for a second she felt the façade slip.

Live for both of us, m’lady. The words rung through her ears. The words had been haunting her for almost a year. One of the last things he had said to her, a different kind of desperation in his eyes, he wanted her to move on, to be happy, to live.

She quickly snapped back to reality and put back her mask, but they’d seen it, the dent in her armor. Their reactions were varying levels of confusion, curiosity and understanding.

She turned to the King, “I have one condition,”

The entire room tensed again, even Fu didn’t know what she was going to say, but she didn’t let it stop her.  

“Which would be?” he replied, he was intrigued, but wary of what she’d said. That was good, she had his attention.  She just needed to phrase her words right, she needed to give Damian a choice in this too, somehow.

“Anyone I marry needs to be able to rule alongside me. In order to do that, he needs to wield a miraculous, but it can’t be just any miraculous. He needs to be able to accept the responsibility of wielding the Black Cat miraculous,” she put it down on the table and their eyes jumped back and forth between her and the ring.

She turned to Damian and fisted her dress in her hand when his eyes met hers, she needed to explain further, she needed to speak, she could freak out later, “I’ll give you a day to consider my condition, in that time I’ll entrust you with the miraculous, you can get to know Plagg, the miraculous’s kwami,” he nodded. She stood and pushed the ring forward so that he could take it.

“Does this mean you accept?” Dick asked, eyes now fully focused on her, the tension still there.

“If Damian accepts my condition, then yes, I accept,” she said simply, hoping that would ease his worry.

It didn’t. He stayed tense, his siblings all in similar conditions as the silence stretched after his words. Marinette looked over them, what could be worrying them so much?

“Um... Marinette, I – we,” Stephanie said hesitantly, gesturing to her and her siblings, “We were wondering if you'd be able to stay in Gotham instead of him moving to – well we know you lead the whole Order and everything but we don’t want to lose him, you know. And I know it’s a lot to ask but...,” she looked at Marinette, and she could see her desperation. So that’s what it was. They didn’t want to loose Damian.

She considered her options. She liked these people, and it wasn’t like she ruled a country, she wasn’t tied down to one place. It wasn’t like them and Gotham where they had to stay in the country.

All she’d have to do is move home base to Gotham and have her court travel and live here, she wanted to be near them. She also wanted to find a place as close to the Castle as possible, but it wouldn’t be hard considering Damian would be her husband.

She pushed the association she’d once had with the word away.

Maybe it would do them all good to move on. To make new memories in a new place. It would certainly do her good not to be somewhere she had made memories with him.

She turned her focus to the siblings. She was pretty sure Cassandra was holding Damian’s arm under the table, Damian was toying with the ring, but his face was resigned. Jason was staring at her as though through willpower alone he could convince her to let Damian stay with them. Dick and Stephanie both looked hopeful and desperate. The King had a blank look on his face but she had no doubt that he, too, was on the edge of his seat.

She met Stephanie’s gaze and gave her a soft smile, “Sure,”

“Sure? What do you mean? Like sure he can – you two- you'll both stay with us like at home?” Jason said, already standing, hands on the table. The others stared at her in varying degrees of surprise and shock. Cass was smiling at her.

She nodded, “I just need to move my Court's home base to Gotham. If he accepts the ring and its responsibilities, I’d be willing to have them move here too,”

Steph stood and ran around the table, grabbing her in a tight hug, “ Thank you,” she said softly.

Marinette felt her heart warm at how much they cared. Damian was staring at her in shock, his mouth slightly hanging open. Dick had a huge smile and Bruce was looking apologetic for Stephanie’s actions.

Marinette looked at this family of people, who she doubted would be related in most situations, and how well they fit.

She watched as Jason squeezed Damian’s shoulder and Dick hugged him from behind. Cass ran a hand softly through his hair and said something to him that made him smile.

She felt her heart long for that kind of familiarity. 

Stephanie pulled back from the hug but held on to her arm. The blonde smiled at her fondly, and Marinette suddenly had a feeling that maybe, it was only a matter of time before she’d have it.

Taglist:

@animegirlweeb @loysydark @toodaloo-kangaroo @forgottenfriends @wolf-for-life @heyitsbugette 

#maribat #me @ me: u can't just turn the prompt into a name each time u don't know what to do #me back @ me *nods head forward and sunglasses fall down* *takes sip from some starbucks drink* : bitch watch me #daminette #damian x marinette #damian wayne #marinette dupain cheng #batfam #medieval au #utp writes #stephanie brown #aka my favourite if u hadn't noticed yet #Cassandra Cain #Dick Grayson #Jason Todd #Jason is a good brother ok? so I'm writing him as a good big bro #and I'm not gonna stop #adrien is dead and will stay dead sorry #this all has a happy ending tho I promise even when I put in so much angst #arranged marriage #black cat damian #this is legit so much fun to write duuuude #thanks for reading babes

[lia-jones]

Growing Together - Chapter Twenty-Six - Dura Lex, Sed Lex

Before we start:

This work is unbeta'd and English is not my first language. I apologize for any mistakes you may find. Have fun reading!

They made us pack a suitcase, just in case. So that the child wouldn’t have to go through the pain of being separated at the place he learned to love and call his own. Like leaving the love of his parents in a cold and impersonal courtroom would be any better.

I resentfully grabbed a duffel bag and filled it with some of Owen’s belongings without him knowing. I put inside a toothbrush and a comb, some underwear and some clothes, pajamas. I put in there all the things he would need for a night out, keeping his favorite things in his room. Because he wouldn’t need to go. Because even if he did go, he wouldn’t go for long. But mostly because the things he loved the most belonged with the place he loved the most and with the people that loved him the most.

The morning of the trial, I found myself staring at his room, holding that duffel bag tightly, my nails digging deep in the fabric, almost ripping it. I hated that duffel bag and all it represented. If I could, I would set it on fire.

“Are you ready? It’s time to go.”

Victor was standing in the doorway, impeccably dressed in his charcoal suit with a burgundy shirt. He looked calm and focused, undefeatable. Ready for the battle.

“I don’t want Owen to see this.” I showed him the bag I was holding. “Go ahead and put Owen in the car, I’ll go shortly.”

“Andrea.” My husband held my hand, giving me a determined look.

“I know.” I squeezed his hand. “We got this.”

____________________________________________________________

Something came up. I’ll be home for dinner.

The note was taunting, sitting perfectly on the polished marble surface, sporting her usual perky handwriting.

Andrea was nowhere to be found.

“Are you sure she didn’t tell you where she was going?”

Owen, who was busy cutting his french toast, shrugged yet again.

“No. Only that she had a plane to catch. And that I should behave while she’s gone.”

“It’s not like her to just leave without saying anything.” Victor took his phone from his pocket, wondering if he should try to call an eleventh time.

“Well, she did say something.” The boy replied matter-of-factly, eyes still on his plate. “She left a note.”

Victor wanted to explain to his son that the information on that note amounted to nothing, that even though his mother had been clear enough that she’d be gone, she had also been cryptic enough to worry him. Victor hated to be kept out of the loop like that, it was a habit that came with his job, to always hold every single piece of information about everything. Andrea, however, was well versed in the art of pulling the rug from under his feet, and sometimes could act so randomly it was hard for him to predict her next move. He had to admit he found it alluring, but also annoying.

It wasn’t like he was controlling or domineering, he just felt safer knowing at all times where she was, what she was doing, and who she was doing it wi-

“Eat your toast.” Victor quickly ended the subject, not in the mood to explain anything anymore.

___________________________________________________________

“All rise.” The bailiff announced. “Department One of the Family Court is now in session. Judge Erica Bridges presiding. Please be seated.”

We all got up from our seats, Victor taking Owen’s hand as to motion him to do the same. The judge was a petite woman with bright blue eyes that were framed with dark eyebrows and hair. She looked far too young to be a judge, yet she had this intimidating aura that made everyone around her feel insignificant. It,reminded me of my husband, keeping everyone on their toes with his mere presence.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen.” The judge opened a file in front of her. “Calling the case of Cole VS Lee regarding the custody of Owen Cole. Are both sides ready?”

“Yes, Your Honor.” The layers replied.

I couldn’t help but look to my side, to the familiar face that had been giving me grief for so long: Pamela Cole. She sat beside her lawyer with a humble look on her face, wearing a modest black dress like she was in mourning, probably to earn sympathy points from the judge. A heatwave coursed through my body, as anger started to churn inside of me. Anger for her audacity to come into my office and tell me all those lies, wanting to take advantage of my sympathy. Anger towards myself, for being an idiot and believing her.

I hated her for having the same DNA as my child, as I hated DNA for being used for such vile purposes. My mind was running wild with thoughts of revulsion and grievance when I felt a warm hand taking mine. It was my husband, looking intently at me like he could read my thoughts, probably because he was having them too. And with just a little magical squeeze of his fingers, all the fire was gone, being replaced by a sense of confidence. We were ready. She would not win.

“And are you Owen?” I heard the judge addressing my son. “You are a very handsome young man.”

“Thank you, Your Honor.” He answered politely. “My mom tells me the same thing.”

Laughter echoed in the courtroom.

“You know what we are doing here today, Owen?”

“My grandmother wants to be my forever family.”

“Good.” The judge smiled at him. “Now, I have something to ask you. We are going to start talking about very boring grownup things, so it would be better if you go with this gentleman to a special room we have, where you can read, or play a little. Is that ok?”

“Aren’t you going to ask me who I want to be with?” Owen frowned.

“Oh, I definitely want to know what you feel about all this. It won’t take long, I’ll call you after a little while, ok?”

I squeezed Victor’s hand tighter as I watched our son being taken away. This was it, it was about to start. How did he look so cool, so centered, when all I wanted was to just grab the boy and make a run for it? But then he looked at me, and I could see it in his eyes. The glint of worry only a wife’s trained eye would recognize on him.

“Very well, now that the child is away, you can make your first statements.”

__________________________________________________________

“Where on Earth are you?” He answered the phone, ready to scold her.

“Well, you are correct. I am indeed on Planet Earth.” She joked, unfazed by his severe tone. “I have ten missed calls from you, didn’t you see my note?”

“You mean the elaborate itinerary of my wife’s whereabouts and the extensive list of reasons why she suddenly disappeared the day before our son’s custody trial?” He gave her a mocking tone. “No, I must have missed it.”

“Victor…” She sighed.

“If instead, you are referring to the ridiculous piece of crumpled paper you left on our kitchen counter stating you were alive by the time you left the house, then yes, I am holding it as we speak.”

“Something came up.”

“Your note already told me as much, if I can decipher your messy handwriting correctly. What else do you have to say for yourself?”

Another sigh came from the other end of the line. Victor was perfectly aware of how difficult he was being, but he couldn’t be more indifferent to it. A week ago, they were fighting because he had kept her at bay. Now, she was doing the exact same thing. If Victor was a gambler, he would bet his fortune on how he wouldn’t like the reason.

“Look, I’ll be completely honest with you.”

“I’m listening.”

“I had an idea. Something that can help us. And I wanted to give it a try.”

Victor pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to contain his frustration. What was she up to this time? And why wouldn't she give him a straight answer already?

“You can tell me when I get there. Just tell me where you are, and I’ll come to pick you up.”

“Do you trust me?” Her disarming question.

“With my life.” He promptly answered. “However, do I need to remind you that we agreed never to keep things from each other? What happened to “we’re in this together”?”

“You told me I wouldn’t fight hard enough for you and Owen.”

Victor paused. He did say that. He wished he didn’t.

“I don’t think that’s true, and you know that.” His tone softened.

“Maybe it is. Well, it was. The truth is…” She hesitated for a second. “I felt weak. I felt like I was losing. And I was so afraid to lose again that I thought it would be better to just stop fighting. I felt like if I lost, I would never recover from it. Do I make sense?”

Victor remembered her howling in his arms at that clinic in Switzerland, when she was told they couldn’t have a biological baby. And his own desperate moments on that kitchen floor, not long ago.

“What I didn’t realize was that, by giving up, I was letting both of you down. I was letting my family down. So this is my way to show you that I believe in us, I believe in us as a family, I’m fighting for us. That’s why I need to do this alone. I need to prove to you that I’m all in. Will you let me?”

___________________________________________________________

“Your Honor, the adoption was made under extremely odd circumstances, and with no respect for the law.” Pamela’s lawyer argued. “My client was not informed of her daughter’s passing, or that the child was left alone.”

“The late mother left a suicide note stating that she did not intend the grandmother to have any contact with the child.” One of Victor’s lawyers argued back.

“I take it you have such a letter in your possession.” The Judge asked.

I jumped on my seat, surprised that they were even mentioning it. Didn’t we agree we weren’t going to use it? I watched incredulously as the lawyer glanced at Victor, waiting for instructions. Victor squeezed my hand again, nodding to the lawyer. What the hell was happening? The lawyer paused and sighed heavily before addressing the judge again.

“No, Your Honor, we do not. That letter was unfortunately lost with some other papers.”

“Your Honor, with all due respect, this trial is a waste of our time.” The other lawyer spoke again. “Should Victor and Andrea Lee be ordinary people instead of public figures, the orphanage would have contacted the grandmother, as it lawfully should, and we wouldn’t be wasting public time and resources! My client has proved that she is fit to be the child’s guardian, and by law, she should have custody. And despite whatever story Mr. Lee’s lawyers wish you to believe, there is obviously no letter from the daughter. Even if there was, there would still be the matter of the daughter’s mental condition when she wrote it.”

“Do you have anything else to present to us to make your case?” The judge turned to our legal team.

__________________________________________________________

Owen spent most of his day in his bedroom, coming out only when summoned. Things had changed dramatically between Victor and Owen since the panic attack, and Owen was treating him with the same distance he did back when he first started living with them: he started to address him as Sir again and seemed to avoid all kinds of interactions. When they were forced to be together, like when sharing a meal, Owen kept his eyes on his plate, barely saying anything other than some short bitter words.

Victor couldn’t blame him. He had acted cold and distant during the funeral, disregarding his family. Everything one won’t expect from a parent. It was only natural that Owen was suspicious of him now, he had lost his trust in him. Victor’s penance was now to get it back.

“Are you hungry?” Victor entered the boy’s room after a brief knock. “I have some frozen mango, we could make sorbet together.”

“No, thank you.” Owen answered, not caring to lift his eyes from the book he was reading.

“What do you have there?” Victor tried again. “Is that the book Mom bought you?”

“Yes.”

“The Beesy Life.” He read from the cover. “Anything interesting about bees?” Knowing his son, he would surely jump at the opportunity of stating an extensive list of facts.

“They make honey.” He quickly dismissed him. “Can you leave so I can read?”

“Why don’t we go outside and play some football together? It’s sunny today.”

The boy seemed to bury himself even more in his book.

“No, thank you. I’m reading.”

Victor surely had his work cut out for him. With a heavy sigh, he sat on his son’s bed. Diversions wouldn’t work, he would have to stop being a coward and just cut to the chase.

“Owen, we need to talk. Do you think you can put that book down?”

Victor grimaced as his son obediently placed the book on his lap, giving him his undivided attention. It was so hard to find the right words. Andrea usually helped him with these things, making notice little things he couldn’t see, encouraging him to open up a little more. Ironically, when things were hard, Andrea was always nowhere to be found. Or maybe things were hard because she wasn’t around, Victor wasn’t sure anymore. He closed his eyes briefly, trying to imagine how Andrea would do it.

“I need to apologize.” Victor began. “I was callous and cold towards you and your mother, and-”

“Was it because of that letter you got? The day we went to the market?”

Victor turned to his son, astonished.

“Mom cried the day you got that letter. And every day after that.” The boy explained, like he understood Victor’s surprise. “And you began to fight. You never fight.”

“Owen...” Victor looked at his son, not knowing what to say.

“What did it say?”

_______________________________________________________

“Alright Owen, now that the grownups have talked, I want to get to know you better. Do you mind if I ask you some questions?”

My son looked at me with hesitant eyes, and I gave him a small nod of reassurance, mouthing It’s ok.

“Ok.” He nodded, following the bailiff nervously to the witness stand.

“Well done. Are you comfortable there?”

My husband’s hand squeezed mine hard. I ran my thumb over his. Owen would be ok. He was a smart child.

“Do you see this document I’m holding?” The judge showed him a folder. “This is your file, it tells me things about you. So, I know you are five, and you have been living with the Lees for almost a year, and you are doing very well at school… But it doesn’t tell me other important things, like, what are your favorite hobbies, if you have any close friends…”

“My best friend’s name is Mathew, he’s from my class. We play soccer together.” Owen promptly answered. “I like to play soccer, with my friends or with my Dad. I also like insects, I want to be an entomologist. That’s why my Mom calls me Bug. Oh, and we have a pet lobster! His name is Mr. Lobster, my Dad lets me feed him sometimes.”

“A pet lobster? That’s unusual.” She chuckled. “I can see in your file that you are doing well at school, no disciplinary reports… It seems you adjusted very well to that new reality.”

“Miss Dillon says God works in mysterious ways.” The boy looked at the judge in all seriousness. The judge frowned, taken aback by his statement.

“I could say that He does, Owen. But why do you say that?”

“A while ago, we went to have dinner at Gavin and Mia’s, and Mom got sick and threw up all over the floor. And later that night, I woke up and Mom and Dad were talking, and I did something I shouldn’t have.”

I looked at Victor, confused. What on Earth was Owen talking about?

“What did you do, Owen?” The judge asked.

“I eavesdropped.” His head hung in shame. “But I didn’t mean it in a bad way, I was worried about Mom. And then I heard Dad talking about the bad man that hurt Mom, and because of him she can’t get a baby. So…” Owen looked at me, hesitating.

“Yes?” The judge pressed.

“I don’t like that Mom got hurt so badly, but if God works in mysterious ways, maybe He made that bad man hurt Mom so she would adopt me, because He knew my other mom would die.” He shifted nervously in his chair, giving the judge a pleading look. “I know the other lady is my real family, and maybe she is a really nice lady, but I already have a family. I love my Mom and Dad, and I know they love me. Can I please keep them? Can they be my forever family? Please?”

My son’s words pierced my heart, and all the tears of fear and anguish I had been hiding came full force. Despite knowing my background, Owen would never really know how he was an angel in my and Victor’s life, filling our life with color and love. Losing my son was like getting my heart ripped out of my chest, and nothing would ever fill that gap. Victor’s grip on my hand tightened, the brief twitch of his finger making me look up. His eyes were also filled with tears, as he held onto my hand for strength, just like I held his. And as I looked around, wiping my tears with the back of my fingers, I noticed there wasn’t a dry eye in the room. Except for Pamela, who looked at us with utter disdain.

“Well, Owen…” The judge cleared her throat. “Thank you so much for talking to me. I will consider your words.”

_________________________________________________________

Victor looked his son in the eyes, trying to formulate the right words to say. There weren’t any. If his wife was there, and not on some kind of wild goose chase, she would tell him to speak from the heart. And it was more and more evident that raw honesty would have to do.

“You have a grandmother. Your biological mother’s mother. She wants to adopt you.”

“I have a grandmother?”

Victor’s eyes fell to the ground.

“Yes.”

Owen jumped from his seat, eyes wide in anger.

“You told me nothing would make you send me back! You told me you were my forever family!” The boy broke down crying. “You were lying!”

“I never lied to you, Owen, you-”

“You told me I was a Lee! That I was your son!” Victor tried to hug his son, but he wouldn’t let him, hitting him with his clenched fists. “You don’t love me, you want to send me back!”

“You are my son!” Victor held his son tight, his voice echoing through the apartment. “You are a Lee, you’ll always be a Lee, and no one will take you away!” Victor felt his eyes sting with emotion, his voice faltering as he spoke. “I will not allow it.”

Victor pulled his son to his arms, tears running freely from his eyes too. He was so brutally inept when it came to expressing his feelings, yet he needed to show his son he loved him above everything.

“I am your father, Owen, and there is no law in this world that can change that. And we do want to be your family. Otherwise, why would your mother be crying all this time? Why would I become so insufferable?”

“Please don’t leave me.” Owen begged, his face buried in his father’s chest.

Victor knew that sentiment all too well. To hold a loved one so desperately and still feel her slip away from his fingers, leaving nothing but loneliness, no one to gather and mend the shards of his broken heart. But those days were over for Victor. And they were also over for Owen.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Victor smiled, wiping the tears from his boy’s cheek. “You belong with us.”

Before he was a father, Victor would scorn those romantic fools that told him about how deeply a parent can love his child. He simply found it impossible to be. He has never been loved that deeply, he couldn’t even fathom how that must feel like. But at that moment, with Owen's little arms wrapped around his neck, Victor’s heart felt like a deep wide ocean, filled with love and joyful selflessness, a complete devotion to that little red-haired boy. And a promise, no, a purpose to devote every single day of his life to his happiness.

“So I don’t need to go?” Owen asked, breaking his embrace.

“No, you don’t. You’re a Lee and that’s settled.”

Owen’s bedroom door flung open.

“Mom!” Owen left his father’s arms to run to his mother.

“Bug!” Andrea lifted him in her arms, giving him a tight hug. “I missed you so much, little one!”

“Where have you been?” Victor went to his wife.

“I did it.” She bit her bottom lip in excitement, putting their son down and reaching for her purse.

“And may I know what exactly did you do?”

“We won.” She smiled widely, handing Victor an envelope.

Victor read the document inside, not believing his own eyes. They had never contemplated it, it seemed so impossible…

“What is it, Dad?” Owen looked at both of them, excited. Victor lifted him up in the air with joy, twirling him in his arms.

“What we needed to officially make you a Lee.”

__________________________________________________________

Victor stood quietly at a hidden corner of the main hallway, talking on his phone. An oblivious passerby would think he was having a calm conversation, but I knew better: by the look in his eyes, Victor Lee was making some serious threats at that precise moment. Our legal team was reunited not far behind, deeply engaged in a quiet conversation, the panic very clear in the faces of some of them. Something had gone wrong. Something had gone terribly wrong. And my job was to sit quietly with Owen, trying to distract them the best I could from the gravity of the situation.

“One, two, three, four, I declare a thumb war!” Owen chanted excitedly, as I tried my best to discreetly grasp what was happening. “Mom, are you paying attention?”

“Yes, Bug. Go ahead.” I answered distractedly as I noticed my husband look at his phone in silence, poker face in place.

“You may all come in.” The bailiff called us. “The judge has come to a deliberation.”

A bad feeling glued me to my seat, and for the life of me, my legs wouldn’t work. I looked at my son, the sweet five year old that meant the world to me, and I feared this would be the last time I would see them. I slapped myself mentally for being distracted looking at Victor and the lawyers, when I could just have enjoyed this last moment with him and played thumb wars.

“Owen, you come with me to the other room, alright?” The bailiff took his hand and I held his other one, unwilling to let go.

“Lady…” The bailiff pleaded.

Just one second, damn it! I may lose him forever, I just need this extra second!

“Owen…”

“Yes, Mom?” Sweet brown eyes stared at me expectantly.

I wanted to tell him I loved him, and that he would be an honorable man, and that someday I would love to know the kind of person he would grow up to be. I wanted to tell him that I would cry for him every single night, that he wasn’t born out of my mangled body but he was mine, that I would never forget about him, for as long as I should live. I wanted to tell him I would never adopt another child, that no child would ever take his place, and that my heart would belong to him forever. But I couldn’t. If he was going to be with his grandmother, I had to make things as easy as I possibly could for him. Even if they were impossibly hard for me. So, instead, I ruffled his hair.

“You did very well, with the judge.” I smiled. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks!” He smiled confidently. “I love you, Mom!”

As Owen walked away, holding the bailiff’s hand with a smile, a dark shadow ran across my line of vision. It was Victor, taking his son in his arms. And that was when I knew my suspicions weren’t unfounded: we were losing him.

I witnessed the sadness in Victor’s eyes as he smiled at his son, hugging him and tousling his red curls. And then the glint of despair, as his eyes landed on me, his expression telling me he was close to falling apart. I wouldn’t have to be strong just for Owen. I would have to be strong for Victor too. So I summoned the last of my strength and stood up. For better and for worse, we are in this together. I won’t let you fall, handsome.

We never said a word, as Victor took my hand and led me inside the courtroom. I didn’t know what had failed, and it wasn’t important. I took a shot and I missed. We wouldn’t win this one. I thought about the duffel bag in my car and regretted not putting one of Owen’s favorite books in there. He would need something to distract him tonight.

The judge entered the room, and while I could see the hesitant look on everyone’s faces, I couldn’t care less about it. I had no interest in hearing someone say I couldn’t be a mother, I already was. Even if a piece of paper said otherwise. Owen was my son.

“I have to say, this was one of the hardest decisions I had to make in my whole career.” The judge started her deliberation. “Dura lex sed lex. This means, the law is hard, but it is the law. The law speaks of rights and duties, it tells us in which direction to go, but the law does not contemplate feelings. The law does not abide by what makes us feel better. The law is impartial to love and to emotions. It is so by design, so we don’t let our hearts cloud our judgments. The law is correct, but that doesn’t exclude the fact that it can be very painful.”

The sound of heavy wooden doors opening abruptly echoed through the room, making us all jump in surprise. From them, one of our lawyers ran, stopping only in front of the judge.

“Your Honor, I apologize for my audacity towards this court.” The lawyer bowed. “But new evidence has arrived that cannot be ignored.” He handed her an envelope.

I looked at Victor, puzzled. Was it…

“Can you please explain to me and Mrs. Cole’s lawyer, what exactly am I looking at?” The judge opened the envelope.

“Mrs. Lee was able to track down the child’s biological father.” The lawyer explained. “She flew yesterday to Acomb and met him at the hospital where he is working as an intern doctor, and he granted her and Mr. Lee parental rights. We were just waiting for the lab to give us the DNA results.”

“And why am I getting this just now?”

“We couldn’t present the documents without being sure that Mr. Richardson was indeed Owen’s biological father.”

“Your Honor, this is highly inadequate! I contest this man’s right to give parental rights, he was never in the child’s life to begin with!” Pamela’s lawyer argued.

“Neither was your client, Counsellor.” The judge gave the lawyer a frown. “Well, it works for me.” The judge banged her hammer. “The Family Court decides that Mr. and Mrs. Lee will be granted full custody of the child Owen Cole, concluding the adoption process, effective immediately. Congratulations, you can get your son for the next room.”

Victor and I practically crashed against each other in a tight embrace, smiles mixed with tears, emotions running wild. We had won, we had our son. We were officially a family.

We entered the other room with joy in our hearts, laughing as Owen ran into our arms.

“I'm going home with you guys?”

“You are officially a Lee!” Victor laughed as he threw the boy in his arms.

“You adopted me? You are my forever family?” Owen teared up, reaching out to me so he could hug me as well.

“We are a family.” My throat tightened as I hugged the two men I loved the most in this world. “And we are forever.”

Victor pulled me close to them, wrapping both me and our son in a tight hug. And I couldn’t help but think back to our year, so full of adversity. Despite it all, we came through. We fought and found solace in one another. We became stronger and more united, we grew together, as a family, and we would continue to do so.

Love does conquer all.

Author's Note: This project has been going for a year now (it started in February 2020) and it won't be over any time soon, so I would like to ask you, as much as possible, for your support, because we still have a very long way to go. So, if you enjoy the work, don't forget to comment and reblog. It gives it traction and enables other people to learn about it, and for me to get more excited about what I do.

#victor mldd #mlqc victor #love and producer fanfic #li zeyan #Growing Pains - Series #growingtogether #victor x oc #mldd fanfic #dad victor

[soliverse]

winter promises - q.kn

pairing: gangster au!kun x student!reader

genre: angst, a tiny bit of fluff

warnings: mentions of violence, death, injury and bullying (they weren’t explicitly shown but they were mentioned by the characters. nothing too graphic or triggering.)

word count: 2323

ps: hello @strykiss​! I got chosen as your secret santa this year. I debated whether to post From Home or Winter Promises at the last minute but this was the fic that I promised you at my ask. Sorry it took a while :< I hope you liked it.

Winter Promises is a part of the Secret Santa Collab by @lucaswithnoshirt and @bumblebeenct. This is my very first collab and I’m thankful that you have let me be a part of it.

If you want to read the other fics created by the other amazing nct writers, just head over to @neoculturechristmas​ for the other secret santa entries.

networks: @nctcreations​ @kdiarynet @kpopscape

The harshness of the winter has never felt colder than today. Just a few weeks ago, you planned to visit your brother James and spend the rest of Christmas break together. Everything changed when you received a call from the police a few days ago. You almost broke down when they told you about your brother’s passing.

You lived in a different area from your brother because you had to go to school. All this time, you believed that your brother is a salesman. That’s how he was able to pay for college fees and living expenses. Little did you know, he was actually hiding a secret from you.

The police found his body after a gang fight. After a bit of an investigation, they discovered that your brother is actually a member of one of the notorious gangs in the area. He is one of the Guardias. They are people of the night, lurking in the shadows and can only be identified by the tattoo of a black wolf in their forearms. That explains why he wore those long sleeves all of the time whenever he visits, even when in the blistering heat. He just used the excuse that he had to look professional at all times

What’s worse about his death is you had no other living relatives. You were both orphans that got kicked out of the systems when you got older. Nobody attended his funeral but the priest and yourself.

You stood at the middle of the field alone, the cemetery wrapped in a think blanket of snow. You did nothing for the past few hours but stood there in front of his grave and stared blankly at his epitaph.

IN MEMORIAM

JAMES Y/L/N

March 31, 199x – December 20, 20xx

A LOVING BROTHER

Reading the engraved letters made you tear up again.

You just can’t believe that he had to die like this, that he had to lie to make you feel better. You wondered how much he had to suffer just seconds before he dies, recalling the horrible state of his body when they discovered him. Just thinking about it made you shake from anger and grief. It didn’t take long before you broke down and sat right next to the grave hugging your knees.

“Hey…”

You were interrupted by a concerned Kun. He pulled you towards him and wrapped his loving arms around you.

“Sorry for being late.”

You desperately needed someone that day and him coming meant the world to you. If there’s someone that will understand what you are currently going through, it would be him. Just like the two of you, he’s also alone because he had to study overseas. He had a brotherly bond with James, like he’s an extension of your brother. James would always tell Kun that he would be the one to take care of you while he’s gone. It’s safe to say that he still fulfilled that promise.

“I’m sorry you had to spend Christmas like this…”

Eventually, he took your hands to find a nearby bench that you can sit comfortably. He started patting your head and never let go of you until you stopped crying.

“I’ll be fine. Thank you for coming.”

He handed you a handkerchief from his pockets so you can wipe your tears away. His hand still remained your shoulders, patting it gently to calm you down.

“If it makes you feel any better, I got a gift for you.”

He started patting all over his winter coat and his pockets to look for something. Taking it out on one of his inner pockets, he pulled out a box wrapped with a tiny red bow on top. You opened it right away and there was a unique bracelet inside of it.

“Merry Christmas Y/N. I made a promise to James when he’s still alive...”

He took your hand and placed the bracelet in your palms.

“As long as you’re wearing this, James and I will always be with you…”

Your heart melted as he said this to you. You couldn’t help yourself but to hug him once again. His touch felt like summer on this cold, winter night.

///

About a few weeks passed by and your classes resumed once again. You used that supposed break to mourn over James and help yourself to get over from his loss. Kun had a part-time job to attend to, but he always made sure to check on you from time to time.

Wintertime still surrounded the area, but some people already took down their decorations and things went back to normal. As you skipped across the snowy road, you couldn’t help but stare at the thing that’s jingling in your right arm. You stopped on your tracks and held it up to the sky. Your eyes squinted, trying to look for something special in the bracelet that the Kun gave you for Christmas.

It was the single thing that made you smile every day. His words repeated in your head like a broken record and you can’t help but blush at the thought of it. You always this little crush on him even before, but his caring nature the past couple of weeks make your heart flutter even more. This made you unconsciously touch it. You raised your arm up to your eye level and you finally realized that the bracelet is held together by two wolves, one on each side of the bracelet. You wondered why this was the design that he chose, considering that it doesn’t look that girly. It was weird, but you just shrugged it off when you realized that you still have to walk to school.

///

You came just shy a few minutes before the class starts. The professor is still out of sight, so you bowed to greet everyone inside before you walk towards your desk. The class didn’t pay you any attention. It’s always been that way ever since you got admitted to the school. Making friends is hard when people judge you from the way that you dress or the life that you live in every day. You don’t get to wear nice cloths just like everybody else because you liked to save your money for things that are more important.

The other girls would roll their eyes out and point out how worn out your uniform looks or make gestures behind your back. It stayed that way for years, but you never had the guts to tell Kun or James. You have to be strong for yourself sometimes and just ignored their mockery.

You were taking out the textbooks from your bag when you overheard the other girls squealing excitedly at each other. One of them is your classmate Lilith. Everyone thinks she’s so cool because she has a gangster boyfriend that buys her expensive stuff. It’s probably another designer brand bag or something.

“It looks so pretty! Have you tried using it yet?”

You swear that you can sense Lilith’s condescending smirk even when your back is turned against her.

“I haven’t actually. But he said it’s suuuuppppeeeer expensive. Like, it’s worth more than anything he’s ever bought me. I can’t wait to use it at clubs tonight!”

She said in this exaggerated tone that you hate. She had this habit of making herself extra loud so that you’ll hear what she’s trying. You roll your eyes internally and just proceeded to open your notes and tried to recall the lessons that you had for the past few weeks.

“Are you sure? It doesn’t look that much…”

“Ugh…” She sounded so offended at her friend’s remark.

“This bracelet are only given to very special people. It means they are under the protection of the whole group. It means nobody is allowed to touch the very fiber of her being. I can basically do whatever I want and no one will stop me.”

Your hopes of concentrating on your lessons was completely thrown out of the window. At a desperate attempt to keep your sanity intact, you cupped both of your ears with your hands.

“Special, huh? Then why does Y/N have one too?”

“There’s no way…”

You yelped as you felt someone yank out your hand away from your head.

“What do you want, Lilith?”

She yanked it again towards her face and so she can get a better view of your right hand.

“Hey! Let me go!”

You tried grabbing your hand away from her at the same time that she lets go of your hand aggressively, the force sending you off to the floor.

“So, you got claimed too huh?”

You glared at her direction, but the bright red thing on her wrists caught your attention. It looked similar to your bracelet, the only difference being that it was red and the wolf was replaced with a silver dragon. It’s strikingly similar to the one you’re currently wearing.

“I wonder which lowlife scum you had to sleep with just so you can have one of those.”

She folded her arms and scoffed at your direction

“Of course. It had to be one of those filthy G-.”

A stern voice interrupted her from the front door.

“Watch your mouth, Lilith.”

The voice came from Kun, you looked incredibly pissed.

“Leave her alone. She just lost her brother.”

Lilith opened her mouth again but Kun just raised his eyebrows at her. His gaze seemed to be sending her a message that only the two of them can understand.

The stand-off have successfully shut Lilith down as she begrudgingly went back to her desk. The professor came right after, so Kun smiled sweetly at your direction before he sat down at his desk.

You got up from the floor and dusted the dirt off of your uniform, still completely oblivious at what just happened. It made you a bit more self-conscious now that everyone has their eyes on you. Thankfully, the professor caught everyone’s attention and your class proceeded as usual.

It didn’t take long before lunch break comes and the bell rang. As soon as the last professor left the door, everyone’s attention was back on you once again. You just sat there awkwardly as you waited for everyone to leave the classroom, not really sure what else to do about this situation.

Kun felt your uneasiness. He stood up from his chair and offered his hand to help you stand up from your chair. Your smile grew wider once again as you took his hand and you walked together to your usual place in the cafeteria.

The both of you took your seats and brought out your lunchbox with you. You took out your lunch, which was a simple meal composed of eggs, bacon and a cup of rice. When took out his containers, you remembered that your bestfriend is actually a bit of a masterchef. There were several varieties of home-cooked meals from his lunchbox. There are dumplings, warm chicken soup, and some of which you don’t even know the names of.

“I made extra so we can share...”

You can tell that there was extra care given to the meals that he made. This man just never fails to amaze you. Looking around the cafeteria, everyone felt the same way. Some of the other girls looked at you with what you can assume is jealousy written all over their faces.

“You know, the girls of this school hate me because they thought I’m your girlfriend right.” He laughed at your comment, his eyes completely disappearing from the stretch of his smile.

“If you’re actually dating me, then I’ll be the luckiest man alive.”

You felt heat coming up from your face, unsure if it was because of his laugh or the thing that he said. Instead of answering him, you took some of the fried rice that he made and stuffed your mouth to hide your embarrassment.

Time passed and you’re about to walk home as well. Kun called out your name and offered to walk you home. You felt some dirty glance being thrown away at your direction once again, but for once, you didn’t mind them.

“Just making sure got home safe.” He explained when you asked him on the way. It’s a sweet gesture from his part once again, but he’s been acting weird throughout the walk. His eyes kept on looking from left to right, as if he’s looking for something.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

He relaxed and his cheery self appeared in front of you once again.

As soon as you got inside your house and closed the door behind you, he started to walk along the snowy road. His uneasiness crept back in, looking left and right to make sure that no one is following him.

His whole demeanor changed as soon as he entered his territory. The apartment that you thought he’s staying in is actually the headquarters of a secret gang that’s meant to protect the whole city. Men lined up in his path, bowing at his presence. At his room, he took off layers of his winter clothing, finally revealing a secret that he’s also been hiding from you. It was a tattoo of a black wolf, only given to the elite members of Guardia.

He sat on his couch and grabbed his phone to dial someone’s number.

“Yes, boss?”

“Hey Xuxi, would you mind giving the Kids a call?”

“Sure. What for?”

“Tell Chan that one of his bitches is misbehaving…”

He rested his head and closed his eyes, reminded of how you were treated earlier by Lilith.

“If he doesn’t do anything about it, I will. Make that very clear to him, unless he wants me to break his other arm.”

“I’m on it, sir.”

The call dropped and his phone was now showing his wallpaper, a candid picture that he took without you knowing.

The other gangs have been becoming bold lately and have orchestrating attacks from left to right. Knowing them, he’s sure that they’ll be going after the next Guardia successor, you.

///

“Protect Y/N at all cost. It won’t take long before the world knows about her real identity.”

That is a promise that he’s willing to keep, even to his death.

#nctcreations #kdiarynet #kpopscape #neoculturechristmas #secret santa collab #nct #wayv #nct fic #wayv fics #kun x reader #qian kun #gangster au #winter promises #soliverse

[aikrus]

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Pairing: T. Iida x Reader Rating: 15+ Words: 4k289 Warnings: Reference of Alcohol, and angst  Requested by: No one, but requests are open! Summary: The story of Iida’s summer before UA, and how love isn’t always a good thing.

      QUIRK: Soul Beam

   The summer before high school was a fever dream that Y/n never wanted to wake up from. The sweat sticking to her skin was only ever washed away from the storms that passed through her life- note: even the pools she submerged herself in never removed the glistening water from her body because sometimes water needs a little force behind it in order to cleanse you. 

The gold and purple sunsets are passing memories that she wants to desperately hold on to. No taste will be quiet like the pancakes she had eaten, and no smell will ever replace that of the sweater she stole (despite overheating every time she wore it).

Scars are a painful reminder of what she went through, and it takes a little to see them as a badge of honor, but the help she received only made it re-open in the long run. 

Tire swings will never be the same, and that stupid song is still on the radio- as if it wasn’t playing enough in her head. Y/n used to think she was strong, but now that’s barely believable. Ice cream cones and train rides have a hidden meaning that will only ever be known by her and it hurts to know that no one can help her mourn a love that never happened.

--------------

The first question was asked when the summer started. It was next to a moving van that was a beacon calling out to everyone on the street it was parked on. The well-off neighborhood was full of upstanding citizens who wanted nothing more than to welcome the newest member with open arms. 

It was that beacon that called the Iida family over to the driveway. But as Tenya walked with his brother and parents, he wondered if the bright beacon that drew him in was the moving truck of the bright smile of the teen girl, happily grabbing boxes of things to bring inside. 

“Hello! We’re the Iida family, this is my husband, and these are my two son’s, Tensei and Tenya. Welcome to the neighborhood!” The wife smiled kindly at the mother.

“Thank’s for coming out! This is my husband, Y/d/n, and my daughter Y/n. We’re really looking forward to joining the neighborhood,”  to the untrained eye this looked like any normal greeting, but Y/n knew better. She could see the subtle glances her mom threw at her. She was trying to say how cute the younger boy was. It received a light chuckle and an eye-roll from her daughter.

“Tenya,” The Iida’s father said, clasping him on the shoulder, “Why don’t you go help Y/n with her boxes?”

“Yes, sir,” he said, walking over to the moving truck.

“You can just grab that one if it’s not too heavy,” she pointed at a medium side box labeled ‘Knickknacks’. He hummed in agreement and followed her up into her room, noting the aesthetic that she surrounded herself in.  

---------------------

A knock echoed through the newly-decorated house, alerting the present family members of a visitor. 

“Not it,” Y/n’s dad said, pressing his finger to his noes; her mother follows suit.

“You guys are literal children,” Y/n groaned, forcing herself off the couch she had grown ever so attached to.  Grumpily, she made her way to the door.

“Oh hey! Iida, right?” Y/n said, recognizing the boy that had already been in her room.

“Yes! That’s me. I uh,” he scratched the back of his neck nervously, “I was heading down to the boardwalk, and I wanted to know if you would like to come with me?” 

Truth be told this wasn’t his idea. His mother had been pressuring him for days in hopes to grow closer to the new family. It wouldn’t be long until they realized the Iida’s are a line of hero’s, and she wanted to get close to them before they found out.

“Oh,” Y/n replied, suddenly thinking of the clothes she was currently wearing. While her tie-dye shorts and loose t-shirt weren't anything to be ashamed of, they were not ‘paint the town red’ clothes. 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to!” Tenya said, suddenly embarrassed that he randomly invited a girl his age to hang out with him. 

“No! I’ll gladly go, just give me a few minutes to get changed. Come inside,” Y/n had said, opening the door wider for him before racing upstairs. 

--------------------

       Iida walked slightly behind the girl he was supposed to show around. It was a cliché, but she was mesmerizing. Her hair bounced with every step, and she walked like she had a purpose, and the end goal was in mind and she would stop at nothing to get there. 

She looked like she was made of honey and sugar and a taste would give him a cavity. The beams of the sun projected from her eyes like the cosmos and it made him want to fall in- knowing full well that drifting through the endless space would never cease to amaze him.

“Do you think they sell corn-dogs here?” 

“Huh? oh!” He blushed, before pointing ahead, “Yeah, there’s one right by the docks.”

“Well then what are we waiting for?” She smiled and leaned closer to Iida. “Let's hurry!” There was a burst of light laughter in her voice, as she grabbed his hand and ran off. What was he doing here?

--

When they reached the end of the docks- corn dogs in hand- they say on the bench which over-looked the sea. Night had fallen while they were out, Y/n becoming absorbed in learning as much as she can about where she moved to.

As she looked out to the wine-light sky, she wondered if she could swim to it. The horizon looked so close, like just reaching out a little further would put it in her grasp. It wasn’t until Tenya’s hand grabbed her shoulder that she realized she really was leaning forward.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked, eyebrows pulled together.

“Yeah!” She smiled, snapped out of her thoughts,. “Just day-dreaming,”

“We should get you back home,” He said, before looking back to the water. 

She saw his glasses, they reflected the golden hue of the sunset, and the beautiful purple that fought underneath it. She saw all the beauty in the world in his eyes, all that was good and right- was all in front of her. He was the sunset, he was the horizon she so desperately wanted to get to.  

“Hey, Iida?” Y/n asked, swinging her legs back and forth under the bench. 

“What is it?” He said, looking over to her face- which didn’t turn to see him.

“Stupid question- but an icebreaker; if you could have anyone in the world- living or dead- over to yours for dinner, who would it be?” she blushed a little, but kept a calm face.

He knew the answer as soon as she finished the sentence, but there was no need to tell someone he just met the name of the girl he had been in love with for years- so all he said was, “Probably Catherin The Great, she had a few political opinions I’d like to hear about first hand,”

“Hmm, I can see you two bonding over tea,” She smirked, standing up from her seat, “Let’s get home.”

Tenya nodded, walking beside Y/n- thinking about her.

----------------------------------------------------------------

        A month had passed, and the little interactions the two families had resulted in the Iida’s inviting them over for breakfast. Y/n had woken up early to get dressed. She pulled her hair into a ponytail, harshly shaking it so the baby hairs would fall out. She threw on a form-fitting sweater and yoga-pants. Despite wanting to look like it’s a casual mornings- she did apply some casual makeup to make herself look a little more awake. 

It was stupid- she knows- but Y/n really just wanted to look a tiny bit better when he sees her again. Looking in the mirror, she wonders if he’s putting a little extra effort in his appearance as well. She could only hope.

Walking down the stairs, she saw her mother- also wearing casual makeup- and her father in a black polo and slacks. They were both standing by the door, waiting for their daughter to come out from her cave. 

“Why are you guys already done?” She asked, turning on the phone and checking the time.

“Wanted to make a good impression,” Her dad smiled, putting his own phone away. 

“Alright,” Her mom smiled, putting on her wedges, “Let’s get going. Y/n can you grab the scones and smoothie?”

“Yeah mah, I’ll be right back,”

“Thanks love,” she smiled, grabbing the house keys off the hook. 

They were kinda heavy, but it was nothing she couldn’t carry. That didn’t stop her dad from taking it from her with a smile. She could have done it, but she’s not necessarily upset about it.

---

Sitting at the dining room table was only awkward in the beginning of the meal. The Iida’s seemed to be pretty profesional people, but the Y/l/n’s were introverts with an acquired sense of humor. Joking about everything from people at work, eachother, and random facts they had learned, the Iida’s quickly became much less tense during the meal. 

The mother and father- whom’s names Y/n never seemed to learn, were last few to smile or laugh along side the rest, beaten by Tenya by only a second, but Tensai had been the first to crack a joke, almost beating Y/n herself to break the ice. 

The loud laughter slowly split into multiple side conversations; Y/n- who sat across from Tenya- tried to strike up a conversation. “Do you want to be famous one day?” 

“Hmm?” He asked, looking up from the lone strawberry cut on his plate, “Yes, I plan on being a Hero.”

A few seconds longer than a moment had passed, end Tensai asked Y/n in return, “What about you? You wanna live the life of fame, or are you more of a low-key kinda gal,” he smiled at her, and for a second Y/n though he had noticed the embarrassment worn on her face after being rejected and forced into silence.

“I dunno really, my quirk is pretty multipurpose. I originally wanted to be a counselor or therapist, but it’s changed from a vet to doctor, to a hundreds of other things. My parents think I should be a hero- I wouldn’t mind I don’t think, but the constant attention could get pretty annoying. A like being busy with people and events, but I do value my privacy,” 

He smiled at her, nodding in acceptance at her answer. The Iida parents had been listening into her words while she spoke, but they still conversed with Y/n’s parents as well. 

Y/n saw a smile on Iida’s face. That mirrored on her own, and suddenly her pancakes tasted a whole lot better. She missed the far off look in his eyes, if only she saw the worried look that was on Tensai’s face. If she had, maybe that small warning could have protected her heart.

---------------------------------------------

         Y/n had found an abandoned tire swing in their large backyard, three acres of cleared land and two of forest. The swing was in a small clearing- it looked like a party or two had been thrown while it was vacant- shown by the few nips thrown about the ground. She swung back and forth- listening to music playing in her head. 

Because of how caught up in her head she was, she never heard the footsteps approaching her. “Hey, Y/L/N!” Tenya greated. 

“Jesus Christ!” She shouted, falling from the swing. Thankfully, with the use of his quirk, Iida was able to catch her just in time.

“You should really be more careful,”

“I’ll be sure to remember that,” she rolled her eyes. 

He smiled, helping her back up to the swing. He slowly began to push her back and forth, spinning her as fast as he could listening to her laughter. Getting more and more dizzy, she closed her eyes to stay level headed. 

With a heavy sigh of contentment, Y/n lied on the grass with Iida, staring up at the beautiful blue sky. “Hey, Tenya?” She asked, still looking up.

“Yeah?” He turned on his side to see her better- only to notice her eyes were closed. 

“What’s your perfect day?”

“Hmm...” he thought for a second, trying to think of a good answer. “Probably waking up early, and seeing the girl I love as soon as I open my eyes. Then I’d like to eat breakfast with my family- followed by patrol with my brother. Then I’d like to go home and make a cup of tea and sit down with a book I like. Yeah, that sounds pretty good,” he smiled himself, closing his eyes to really picture what he was saying. 

“That sounds really nice Iida,” she whispered, wondering if she could be the one he loves.

---------------------------------

           Summer only had a month left, but Y/n wanted to make the most of the fleeting free-time she had left. Wanting to explore more of Japan before her freedom was stripped from her, she invited Iida to go on a roadtrip with her. 

It wasn’t hard at all to convince her parents to let her go, with her quirk she really didn’t need to worry about being attacked. Even then, she’s physically strong if she can’t use her quirk to defend herself. With the rise of heroes to protect everyone, Japan quickly became one of the safest places. Y/n was also very closely trained with America’s top hero, Reflector. She taught Y/n everything she knew and fully plans on giving Y/n her hero agency as her predecessor. 

Iida’s parents were a little harder to convince, but Y/n’s parents were very persuasive. They would be gone for a week, and they would check in every morning when they woke up and every night before they went to sleep. If they didn’t call during one of the time’s then they had until the next call to respond.

They had made a list of regions and cities in them to visit in them, with the days they would be arriving and leaving. If they skipped a stop of stayed longer, then they had to text their parents with the nex information. Solid rules, and both the teens agreed to them, as well as their parents. 

The bus ride to the train station was relatively short, but it was in complete silence. It was a little awkward, but they just had to get through that one part. 

The train ride itself was much more enjoyable. With their suitcases in hand, they sat close yet comfortably. “Hey, Tenya?” 

“What’s up?” He asked, looking up from his phone to see her eyes staring back at him- a smile tugging at his lips. 

“For what in your life do you feel most grateful?” She questioned, smiling into his eyes.

“Probably my family,” He responded as soon as she finished- having grown accustomed to Y/n’s random questioning, “They’ve done so much for me, and I only hope I can pay them back for all that they’ve supported me through.”

Y/n nodded at his answer, acknowledging how very much like him it is. The loud bustle of train and constant shaking led them to listening to music together, sharing earbuds and squeezing close together. It was a cheesy, new, pop song- one that will probably inspire a sub-culture of girls to bind together. It was weirdly comforting.

---------------------------------

        The last night they spent through their travel of Japan was by far the most enjoyable. There was a small frost in the air that traveled with the two, following them in their own little bubble. 

The streets were lightly illuminated, and it seemed like they were the only two in the world. Y/n had grabbed him by the hand, dragging him to an ice cream vendor. Seeing her in front of him, Tenya was thrown back to the first time they spent time together- everything's so different now. Yet, her beautiful eyes stay constant. Her kindness in unwavering. She’s still a girl made of honey and sugar.

After traveling together for so long, the two stopped correcting people who referred to them as a couple- they simply accepted it as an inside joke. This was why they laughed when the man behind the counter said “And these two for the cute couple,” with a wink at the end of his sentence. 

Walking linked by the elbows, the two passed through the park. Shivering from the wind and the chill of her ice cream, Iida stopped the pair. He took off his sweater, revealing the long-sleeve shirt he wore underneath, and he handed it to her. 

“Ten! You’ll freeze to death,” she said, refusing the offering.

“C’mon Y/n/n, I can heat myself up through my engines, and I wasn’t asking. You’re gonna wear the sweater or you’ll get sick. Put it on,” he said, taking the ice-cream from her hand and raising her arms like she was a child. 

Y/n was very pleased the cold hid the blush on her face- last thing she needed was for him to discover her feelings on the last day of this amazing trip. She slipped into his large sweater, and grabbed her ice cream back from him.

“Hey Iida, I’ve got another question,” she said, walking with him through the trees bordering the street. 

“I’m ready,” he asked, looking forward to make sur they didn’t walk into anything in the dark. 

“What’s a personal problem you could use some advise for?” She asked, actually curious as to what he could possibly need help with. 

He sighed, not making eye-contact. “I guess since we’re close enough- even on nickname basis- I should be comfortable telling you this. I’m in love with this girl, I’ve never stopped thinking about her since the moment I met her,” a dopey smile came onto his face, “I have no idea how to tell her. And now we’re going into highschool, and she’s going to meet so many other people- people I’m sure are more fun than me. I want to confess to her before the summer ends, but I have no idea how to. So,” he sucked in a deep breath and looked at Y/n, “What do you think?”

Y/n smiled, she was so sure he was being cheesy and talking about her. She fully believes that he’s gonna confess tonight. It has to happen- that’s the only way what he just said makes sense. 

“I think,” she closed her eyes, “You should look her in the eyes, and compliment them. Whether she accepts your compliment or refuses it, tell her you want her to know how perfect she is- and then tell her how you feel. Tell her how just seeing her makes your day, how you want her to be the first thing you see in the morning, and the last voice you hear at night. Tell her you want to spoil her, want to tell her everyday how perfect she is. Confess to her that she’s amazing, and that you love her. Let her know how you feel, and then respect her reply. But, there’s no way she’ll turn you down. Be confident, you’re amazing and I’m sure she feels the same,”

Tenya thanked her for her advise, and they fell back into a comfy silence. It was then she remembered the night they decided to go by first names, the night she realized how hard she fell for him.

----

Y/n was sitting on her rooftop, Iida beside her. They were looking up at the stars- sitting in silence. Like always, she started the conversation- “Hey, Iida, If you died this evening without being able to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone? And Why haven’t you told them yet?”

“Huh,” he murmured, thinking hard. “I’d regret not thanking my brother more. He risks his life to save people, and he practically raised me. He’s why I want to be a hero, to live up to his expectations. I guess I haven’t told him yet because I want to prove that I’ve done something with myself. I want him to know he doesn’t have to raise me anymore- that I succeed,”

Y/n thought for a moment, before answering a question for the first and only time they have known eachother- but he didn’t ask it. She just felt a need to finally speak.

“I had an ex-boyfriend,” she sighed, clenching her eyes shut; “We’d been dating for five years- since we were children. We were so close as kids, but when our quirks manifested he broke up with me. He said my quirk was too dangerous for him, that he didn’t want to be part of the backstory of a villians history. It fucking ruined me. I was an idiot for actually thinking we could have lasted. About a month after we broke up, a villian attacked the agency I was working at. The only reason I was there was because I know the hero in charge, and he knew that. He had come to the building during my break- I don’t know why he was there, but I was the only person he knew there. The villain attacked, but his quirk wasn’t very strong. All he could do was change the color of an item for a few seconds. He was killed that day- slaughtered by the villain who’s only reason was boredom. I wish I could talk to him one last time, tell him I loved him one last time.”

Iida scooted closer to her, pulling her head onto his chest, letting her use him as a crutch. “It’s okay, Y/n. It’ll be okay,”

----------------------------------------------------------

When highschool started, and Tenya hadn’t confessed his love to him, Y/n came to the painful realization that she wasn’t the one he loved. However, it was the first day of school that hit the nail on the head. 

She had entered the classroom of 1-A, after her family convinced her to at least try out the hero course, and was terrified that she would know no one. And then, she heard a voice that reminded her of someone very similar.

At the far end of the room, she saw the back of a blue-haired boy scolding a blond with his feet on the desk. A smile spread across her mouth when she realized who this up-tight teen was. Practically running to cover the distance of the class, Y/n launched herself onto Iida, latching onto her. 

“Ten!” She smiled, shifting to wear he could comfortably hold her up.

“Y-Y/n?” He asked, momentarily stunned by her sudden appearance. He smiled and spun her around for a second before putting her down. “You’re here? You’re parents convinced you to pursue being a hero?” he was reasonably confused, but he wasn’t upset she was there- if anything he was glad to have a second familiar face around.

“Yeah, I’m just trying it out,” Y/n laughed, scratching the back of her neck. 

“So heartwarming, now get outta my line of sight four-eyes,” the blond snapped, glaring at the pair.

“You’re annoying, you know that?” Y/n said, rolling her eyes at his comments. 

Meanwhile, Iida laughed at Y/n being called his girlfriend. Y/n, who used to laugh with him, could only do her best to not cry. 

“C/mon Ten, let’s go to your seat,” Y/n said, tugging his hand towards the spot with his name on it- stopping when her arm was tugged, caused by him not moving with her. 

“Sorry Y/n/n,” he said, releasing her hand. “I would, but I promised Momo I’d meet her by the gate and guide her to the classroom. You know about Momo, right?” He looked into her eyes hoping she would put it together herself. After realizing she wouldn’t, he reminded her, “We talked about her on our last day of the tour.”

“Oh,” she said, feeling suddenly really cold. 

“Yeah,” He smiled, “Wish me luck!” He gave her a thumbs up and walked out the room- leaving her stunned and so very cold. 

A scoff echoed from behind her, causing her to look back and see the blond once again. 

“That guy’s an idiot- glasses or not. It’s so obvious how you feel about him, and you’re way to attractive to pine after someone like him. You’re smart too, since you got into this school- he’s really missing out,” he rolled his eyes, but he also knew what just happened- even though no one else in the room picked up on it. 

He assumed they were dating, but when Iida laughed, Bakugo had no clue if he was laughing at them dating or the girl’s reaction. He quickly figured out which of the two was the truth, and he also realized that he had no clue that she was in love with him. 

Y/n didn’t react to his words, just stuck in the weird state she was in. She wasn’t sad, or angry. There was no tears or screams or breakdown, just a silent wave of shock. An ocean of doubt consumed her, filling her with a sense of... nothing. 

She should have known. She should have realized. It’s entirely her fault. Who could love her. Who would want to love her. Who wants to date a freak. Who wants to date someone with a villainous quirk like hers. That’s why he was shocked when she showed up- he thought they’d reject a future villain like her.

No wonder everyone hates her; if she was someone else she’d hate herself too.

#bnha #bnha fanfiction #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia #Tenya #Iida #Tenya Iida #Tenya x Reader #Iida x Reader #Tenya x reader angst #tenya iida unrequited #boku no hero angst #boku no hero requests open #mha #my hero #My Hero Academia #bakugo #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #Bakugo x reader x Iida #Katsuki x Reader x Tenya #Iida x reader x Bakugo

[writing-reylo]

The One with The Miscommunication

Rey’s heart is pounding as her Uber pulls up to the restaurant. It’s within walking distance, but she didn’t want to risk arriving with sweat glistening in her forehead, so she spent the money. And that’s how serious she was about this; that’s how much this date meant to her. Her first date with Ben was worth spending unnecessary money so that she could look her best.

Ben Solo. Tall, built like a sky rise, so handsome he made her heart hurt. Her best friend. Her favourite person in the whole world.

She loved him so much she would risk their friendship for this opportunity to be more.

Asking him had been the most nerve-wracking thing she had ever done.

“Hey Ben, do you want to go to The Castle for dinner tonight?” She’d asked him, palms sweaty and heart racing this morning as they walked into the building they both worked in, separate companies and different floors.

They’d met when the elevator had gotten stuck a year before and had bonded over the shared trauma of being stuck twenty floors above nothing in a small metal box.

He’d smiled at her. “Of course.” She’s grinned at him as the elevator moved upwards. “I’ll see you at 7 then. It’s a date,” she’d replied, shooting him a smile as the elevator arrived at her floor.

“You can do this girl,” she whispers to herself as she looks through the glass. Ben hasn’t arrived yet but there is still ten minutes to go and Ben is chronically on time for things, while Rey feels odd if she isn’t at least a few minutes early.

She thinks about walking inside and waiting but the air is cool and despite taking the Uber, she can feel her body has developed a fine layer of sweat anyway.

She looks down at the black heels she rarely wears and wonders what he’ll think. She’d only ever worn them once where he’d seen and she had remembered the way his eyes had drifted down her legs, bare but for her cocktail dress that ended two inches above her knees.

She remembered the way his hand had twitched when he’d danced with her and realised her dress was backless as his hand had met bare flesh.

She’d wanted to kiss him that night so badly, but had lost her courage after he’d gotten into an argument with his Father that had ended with Ben drinking too much whiskey and Rey sleeping above the covers next to him to make sure he didn’t choke in his sleep.

But now, now she was ready.

She giggles under her breath, giddy and nervous, before looking up and seeing his car pull into a spot a short walk away.

She smooths down the front of her forest green sweater dress and takes a deep breath before running her tongue over her teeth, making sure none of the blood red lipstick she is wearing has transferred.

She is resisting the urge to pull up her phone camera and double check when she hears footsteps approaching.

She’s grinning widely when she looks up at him, her heart already at risk of exploding before every muscle in her body freezes.

He’s not alone.

Her smile drops so suddenly she imagines it must have looked almost comical as she takes in her best friend, in a button up the exact colour of her dress that would make her laugh under different circumstances. But she can’t laugh because he’s standing next to their friends Hux and Rose.

Her heart seizes before restarting and she can feel the fissure tears forming all over the organ.

He has invited people on their date, which has made it no longer a date.

Her heart beat once, twice and she inhaled shakily before looking up at Ben.

He was looking at her and she knew what he would be seeing. The makeup, the hair she’d painstakingly curled and brushed until it was perfect and shiny. The dress and shoes in place of her usual jeans and converse.

She watches him blink slowly as he looks at her with wide eyes that she loves so much but, in this moment, make her want to cry.

“Hi,” she says, sounding soft and timid and so unlike herself that she wishes desperately she was already inside with a drink in her hand. A large one.

“Hey,” Ben responds, and she watches as he swallows and fuck her, this is so awkward.

“Rey!” Her dearest female friend exclaims, coming forward to hug her. Rose’s pregnant belly juts out in between them and Rey finds herself, giggling as she embraces her friend, taking a few shaky breaths she knows Rose can hear.

“I didn’t realise, I’m so sorry,” Rose whispers into her hair and Rey shrugs into the hug.

They pull apart and Rey smiles at her, not the grin of before but as close as she can get with the rejection swimming around her. “How much longer until my little Goddaughter arrives?” She asks, though she knows the answer. Little Paige isn’t here yet, but Rey already loves the girl so dearly.

“Three weeks,” Hux answers with a smile. He’s become more personable in the three years she’s known him, and he no longer has resting sneer face. “Everything is ready, we’re just waiting on her now.”

“Putting that crib together almost made me cry,” Rey responds, and they all laugh, except Ben, but Rey can’t look at him just yet.

They make their way into the restaurant, Ben still silent as they hang their coats and make their way to the hostess.

“Welcome to The Castle. Do you have a reservation?” The hostess asks and Rey can feel her face redden as she responds.

“I had made a reservation for two under Niima, but I was hoping you have a free table for four?”

She can see Ben’s fists clenched beside her and ignores it while she waits for the hostess, who thankfully does have a bigger table and leads them to it.

The smell of garlic and bread permeate the air, making Rey’s stomach growl loudly.

“Holy shit Rey, you need to get that under control,” Hux responds with a laugh as they slide into the booth.

“She had to work through lunch- “

“I had to work through lunch- “

She and Ben say at the same time, looking up at one another with surprise. They each halt and lock gazes for a few moments. It’s okay, she tells herself as she looks into his warm coffee eyes, he still loves you, just not the same way you do and that’s okay.

“Jinx,” she smiles softly, breaking the silence and she watches him relax a fraction.

Rose distracts them all them, discussing the baby and Rey is eternally grateful to her friend as they order drinks.

She pushes the rejection down into the same box with all of her other hurts and closes the lid tightly, promising herself the rest of the weekend to have tequila, Thai food and The Office to mourn what never would be.

—-

She makes it through dinner hiding her wound. It still throbs but she manages to hide it beneath self-depreciating jokes and glasses of white wine to take the edge off.

Ben is quieter than normal, but Rose and Hux fulfil their duties as friends to ease the tension between the God Parents of their unborn baby.

Ben stands to go to the bathroom and Rose orders dessert and Rey finds she can breathe a little easier as he walks away.

“So, what the fudge is going on?” Hux demands to know as soon as Ben has left the room. Rey raises an eyebrow at the word fudge, and he rolls his eyes. “We’re trying to be good parents.”

“Was this supposed to be a date?” Rose asks Rey so softly that it almost makes Rey break, the tone gentle and maternal. Rey lets out a shaky breath and nods. “But Ben invited us.”

“Yeah,” Rey replies quietly.

“Oh honey, I’m sorry,” Rose whispers, wrapping an arm around her and squeezing.

“I thought we were on the same page,” Rey explains. “So, I went for it, you know? I guess we’re in different places.”

“Rey, I’m pretty sure you’re wrong,” Rose says, but before they can say anything else, Ben is back, and dessert is arriving.

He smiles at Rey softly as the waiter lowers a plate of cheesecake in front of him but then frowns when nothing in placed in front of her.

“You didn’t get dessert?” He asks, puzzled.

She shakes her head. “I’m full.”

He looks at her in bewilderment. “But you’re never full.”

She laughs and it sounds only slightly fake. “I’m not hungry, I swear.”

He drops it and everyone except Rey eats their dessert. She tries not to stare at the clock and orders her Uber before the waiter is even taking their plates.

Her Uber arrives as they’re putting their coats on and Ben speaks his longest sentence of the night. “Do you want me to give you a lift home?”

She is more than a little relieved to have an excuse. “My Uber is here.”

She thinks she sees his shoulders fall but knows she’s probably projecting as she rushes through goodbyes with Rose and Hux.

She hesitates slightly before hugging Ben and she sees him notice, frowning as his arms wrap around her. She tries not to inhale his scent, but the smell of peppermint, coffee and bergamot somehow make their way into her nostrils despite her efforts and she fights not to tighten her embrace.

It’s over in less than a few seconds but feels like forever when her arms drop.

She’s escaping into the Uber in almost no time at all, and the driver is pulling away from the curb by the time the first tear falls.

———————————————————————

In no time at all, the driver is pulling up the store at the corner of her street, wishing her a (very awkward) goodnight. She wipes her face before entering the store, taking measures and controlled breaths as she fills a cart with tequila, limes, ginger ale and all of her favourite snacks.

The owner, Maz, says nothing as she rings Rey up, taking in the tear stains on her face. “The alcohol is on me, honey,” the woman says, and Rey feels her eyes fill with tears once more.

She is able to keep a hold of herself as she walks to her building, letting herself in and taking the elevator to her floor.

She’s considering taking a shot or two to take the edge off when she looks up and sees Ben sitting with his back pressed against her door, legs stretched out in front of him. He has his phone in his hand, but he’s only turning it over and over.

Three shots then, she decides.

“Hey,” she says, and he looks up at her, eyes wide and she watches as he rushes to his feet, clearing his throat.

“Hi,” he replies softly.

“Can I get through?” She asks and he moves wordlessly, shuffling so that she can unlock her apartment door.

They both enter without saying a word and she carries her shopping to her kitchen island, dropping it, pulling out the bottle of tequila and making her way to the cupboard where she keeps her shot glasses. She takes one and Ben starts to talk but she raises a hand, meeting his eyes as she pulls the plastic from the lid, unscrews it and pours a shot.

He frowns at her as she lifts the small glass to her lips, downing the liquid and then taking a deep breath before meeting his eyes once more.

“Okay,” she says and watches as he swallows.

“It was supposed to be a date,” he says quietly, softly. She blinks slowly, before breaking eye contact and pours herself another shot. “You asked me on a date.”

“I asked you on a date,” she confirms, meeting his gaze for a tenth of a second before downing a second shot.

“You asked me on a date, and I invited our friends,” he states, and she flinches. He startles in response and takes a step forward.

The island is between them, but she takes a step back anyway. He notices.

“Sweetheart,” he says softly, and she stares at the heels still on her feet and avoids his gaze.

She hears him move closer and she looks up, her heart almost shattering at his expression.

He is looking at her like she once saw him look at a frightened dog in a shelter they volunteered at, like she was going to bolt any second. In his defence, she feels as though she might.

“Rey, I didn’t realise it was a date until I saw you,” he explains gently, taking another step forward. She takes another step backwards, her lower back pressing against her countertop. “I thought it was just another dinner, until I saw that dress. I didn’t realise it was supposed to just be you and me.”

His dark eyes are consuming as they bore into hers and she breathes unsteadily as she breaks his gaze to stare down at the bottle of tequila, wishing she’d just popped a straw into the bottle and called it a night.

He says nothing for a moment and neither can she. She isn’t sure that anything would even come out of her mouth if she did open it to speak. Her broken heart is pounding and she doesn’t know what to do.

“Rey,” he says softly and she closes her eyes, trying to hide the moisture in them, but a tear falls down her cheek anyway. She lifts a shaking hand to wipe it away.

“Rey,” he repeats, closer this time but she doesn’t open her eyes. She’s never felt like more of a coward.

She feels a warm touch on her chin. “Sweetheart look at me,” he whispers, in a soft, gentle tone she’d never heard him use before.

She opens her eyes and he’s there, so close she can feel the heat radiating from his body, can smell his minty shampoo that costs so much it had made him blush when admitting it.

He’s right there, and he’s looking at her with the softest expression on his face, his lips curved into the slightest of smiles. His hands move to cup her face, thumbs sweeping along her cheekbones.

“Rey,” he whispers, and the way he says her name threatens to break her apart for the second time tonight. “I never could have thought – I couldn’t imagine – I didn’t- “

She tries to move away but he doesn’t let her, a frustrated sound slipping from his lips. “I’m not explaining this right.”

“Ben, you don’t have to let me down gently,” she whispers hoarsely. “It’s okay if you don’t see me that way.”

He blinks and his head jerks in shock, hands twitching against her face. “See you that way?” he repeats, but it sounds like a question.

“Romantically, I mean. I’m happy to still be friends, if you’re okay with that. I don’t want to lose you from my life just because you don’t feel the way that I do.” The words hurt as they come out, but she can’t stop them or the tone of desperation that sneaks out with them. She can’t lose him.

“And how do you feel?” he asks her, in the tone she’s heard him use a hundred times before, when someone is pissing him off.

“How do I feel?”

His eyes narrow and his hands drop from her face to grab at her clenched fists. They open automatically at his touch and suddenly her hands are engulfed in his. “About me, Rey. How do you feel about me?”

There is no escape from this, she realises quickly. There is no way that he will let her avoid this conversation. Her hands tremble beneath his.

She looks at him, at the man who has become her best friend. His eyes are wide and bright, and she feels every blink a loss of their splendour. There has barely been a night in six months that she hasn’t dreamed about these eyes. They’d been the first thing she’d noticed about him the night that elevator had stopped and their gazes had locked, wide and alarmed.

“I love you, Ben” she says before she can stop herself, before she can filter it with something less permanent, something easier to take back.

He closes his eyes then, for three seconds that feel like lifetimes. She feels as though she has lived many lifetimes when he opens them again.

They are glistening with unshed tears.

“You love me?” his voice is hoarse, his breath jagged.

“Yes, but- “she isn’t able to finish, isn’t able to speak as his mouth presses against hers in a kiss her body has been waiting for for months. His mouth is soft, so incredibly gentle against her own and she cannot help the gasp that slips from her, her mouth opening beneath his.

He lets go of her hands and less than a second later they are sliding into her hair, at the exact moment his tongue is moving into her mouth, brushing expertly against her own.

She had spent long nights thinking about kissing Ben Solo, had run hundreds of scenarios of what kissing him would be like. Her most replayed had been wild, hungry. She had expected Ben to kiss her like he was starving.

The reality was Ben kissing her so carefully, his mouth sweeping against hers so intentionally, that she can feel herself starting to unravel. His tongue sweeps along hers in measured strokes that make her knees weak. He kisses her the way she once watched him eat an ice cream cone, so expertly that none had melted over his had the way that hers had. His hands are twisted in her hair and hers are tangled in his and she has never felt so alive.

He kisses her and she knows she’ll never be the same.

She had loved him before, as her friend, as her potential partner. But now, now she knew that the chemistry she had thought between them wasn’t the inferno she’d worried would set her ablaze, but instead a steady, intense heat that warmed her from the inside out. She was worried she’d be consumed by the flames, but instead, she knew that she could flourish beneath this sunlight.

He pulls her closer and she whimpers beneath his mouth, those careful kisses slowly pulling her to pieces. He pulls away then, pressing his forehead against her own as they each gasp for breath.

Her hands move from his hair to rest along his neck and she can feel his heartbeat beneath her fingertips, a pounding concerto to match her own.

He moves forward again, but instead of her lips, he kisses her cheeks, her nose, the corner of her mouth. Soft, whispers of kisses. Rey feels her eyes fill with tears once more. One falls and he kisses it away

“Rey,” he whispers, pulling back to look at her. His expression is open, happy, one he often wears when they are alone. “I love you so much, sweetheart.”

She blinks. Once, twice.

He smiles at her then, eyes alight with a tenderness that looks different than it did a moment ago, somehow.

She opens her mouth but nothing comes out and she closes it again, her thoughts a jumbled mess, trying to make sense of this new information.

I love you so much, sweetheart.

The words play over and over as he continues to watch her, smile still firmly in place.

“You love me?” she finally asks and she watches a tear fall from his right eye as he chuckles.

“I have been in love with you almost as long as I have known you,” he tells her, leaning forward to press more kisses against her skin. “Deeply, insanely, completely.”

He keeps kissing her and before she can stop herself, she can feel her lips lifting into a smile. He kisses the corners of her mouth.

“You love me even though I ruined your cashmere sweater by running it through the wash?” she asks, remembering the way he’d clenched his jaw when she’d sheepishly presented him with remains of the black mess.

“So much,” he tells her, moving his hands down to her neck, along her shoulders and down her arms until his hands are wrapped around her waist. She resists the urge to look down to see how far his giant hands reach around. She’s spent many a night wondering if his fingertips would touch at the back.

“You love me even though I threw out your suspicious smelling Vietnamese leftovers?” he asks her and her body shakes with her laughter. She’d been so mad at him.

“So much, Ben,” she says as he pulls back to smile at her. It’s both the same and different to every other smile he’s ever given her. She loves his smile, knowing that he doesn’t do it often makes her feel like she’s won something every time he gifts her with one.

“You love me even though I think red wine is abhorrent?” She remembers the look on his face when she’d spat out the sip he’d made her try all over his pristine kitchen counter.

“Even though,” he laughs, pulling her into his body, until almost all of her his pressed against him. She can feel the hardness between his legs against her stomach.

“You love me even though I didn’t realise tonight was a date and asked our friends to come? Even though I had thought for a second before realising there would be no way you’d want me like that, that maybe you did? Even though when I saw you on that sidewalk, I saw how beautiful you were and realised how much of a coward I’ve been since I realised how I felt about you?”

“You’re my favourite person in the world Ben,” she tells him softly. “There’s not a but here for me, no even thoughs. I love you as you are, for everything that you are.”

“I love you, too. For everything that you are.”

He kisses her again and for the first time in her life, Rey Niima has everything she has ever wanted.

The End.

Hey 👋🏻 it’s been a minute. Like a lot of people, TROS kinda felt like a kick in teeth for me and it’s taken me a while to get back into fic writing during COVID (I’m an essential worker, and it’s been tough). Anyway, this one was a bit long, but I hope you liked it. And I hope it made up a little for my absence ❤️

#reylo #reylo trash #ben solo #kylo x rey #reylo fanfic #reylo fanfiction #rey #reylo au

[blacknailpolishonguitarstrings]

From Above

Magic was a very interesting thing. Powerful but fickle. Healing and caring in the right hands, yet wicked and deadly in the wrong ones. Dangerous. Magic was convenient, but used to its full potential only by a select few, and more often than not, by the ones in the wrong rather than by the deserving ones. As such, magic held many secrets that had yet to be discovered. Amongst those many unexplored areas, ghosts and death were some of the most obscure branches of magic. Wizards and witches knew next to nothing about the Afterlife. Ghosts were the imprints of departed souls, and could of course stay in the world of the living if they wished to do so, but they were forever attached to one place. What no one knew, or at least, remembered, was that if one poured enough emotion into the remembrance of a certain deceased person, their soul would be able to perceive what was happening in the world of the living at that precise moment. The souls of the dead had constant access to their past, of course, they were capable of thoughts and feelings, and they could see what was happening to everything and everyone in the world of the living, but as time passed, that connection grew feebler and feebler. The Dead distanced themselves from the Living more and more the longer they were gone, drifting further away from that thin barrier of Reality, and only a strong emotional connection could bring them back. That is how James and Lily Potter found their old friend Remus Lupin at their grave.

“James,” said Lily softly, resting a hand on her husband’s shoulder.

The logistics behind their ability to touch and feel each other were still unbeknownst and confusing to her, yet they were both ever so glad for it. Being dead…well it wasn’t fun. You merely existed. A lone, wandering soul. Yes, one was able to see the world and witness just about anything they wished, but that connection was unstable and weak at best. Both Lily and James felt themselves slipping away a tiny bit more with each day that passed, and it was an underlying knowledge, a cold hard truth, that someday they would simply cease to exist and fade into nothingness. But for now, they held on, with every bit of strength left in them to the real world. They had the urgent need to stay “alive” as best as they could, given their condition, for Harry, the son they would never see grow up, for Remus, their best friend, who was all alone now, and for Sirius, the one person who was slowly but surely getting dreadfully closer to James and Lily with every minute he spent in that cell, isolated, lost, in pain.

“What is it, love?” Asked James, looking up from the concert taking place in a small pub in London he was watching.

“Look, over there,” replied Lily, pointing into the far distance.

The world stretched beneath them like a small map they could observe closer whenever they felt like it, skipping from place to place in a matter of seconds. In the direction Lily was pointing towards, a grey, cold, graveyard stood in the middle of a town, namely, Godric’s Hollow. And among the marble tombstones, a lone figure kneeled in front of two joint headstones which shone bright and white in the evening, brand new, adorned with wreaths of white lilies.

Remus Lupin. In front of their graves. Behind her, James gasped.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” He whispered, already knowing the answer.

“I think so…James, do you feel it? The connection?”

“Yeah, I think I do, it’s almost as if he were…pulling us in.”

Suddenly, they found themselves right above the graveyard, with a direct on-look on it.

“I…I feel close to him, I think his magic is calling us towards him or something. Merlin, this is so strange, how does this even work?” Said Lily, puzzled and slightly frustrated.

“I’m afraid I don’t know much more than you. It must be some form of ancient magic, or maybe Death magic, who knows…in any case nothing we were taught at Hogwarts,” answered James thoughtfully.

His wife nodded in agreement, remaining quiet as she watched her best friend below her. Remus’ shoulders were sagging under an invisible pressure, it appeared as if he would sink into the ground on which he was kneeling at any given second. His hands were hidden in the depth of his old, brown, worn-out coat’s pockets.

“They’re probably balled into fists,” thought Lily knowingly.

Oddly enough he wasn’t crying, and he did not look particularly afflicted. On the contrary, he seemed…numb. He was just there. With no purpose, no emotions, no hysterics, no cries, nothing, he was just there.

“I wish we could talk to him, or at least know what’s going on in his mind,” said James abruptly, interrupting her train of thought.

At that precise moment, Remus pulled out his wand and waved it briefly over the headstones. The fresh flowers on the two graves disappeared in small puffs of sparkles, telltale signs of magic, which hung around fleetingly in the air before vanishing as well. He waved his wand again, and several dark green sprouts spurted from its tip, softly dropping to the ground, small roots snaking into the mushy earth. The plants began to grow in size, intertwining until they formed a complex woven arch of spikes and leaves stretching across the two graves. Here and there, pearlescent white flowers bloomed. White roses.

“He remembers,” murmured Lily, tears welling up in her non-existent eyes, pricking her skin, sliding down her cheeks.

“Oh, love, of course, he does. Besides, those lilies were truly atrocious,” James laughed, but through the rumble of his chuckles, Lily could hear the affliction and the sorrow, thick and overwhelming.

She sighed, hugging him.

“If only we could communicate somehow,” she repeated her husband’s words.

There was another curious thing about magic: it had the uncanny knack to listen to one’s feelings, and sometimes, it was lenient and amalgamated. That is how Lily and James found themselves right next to Remus, still invisible, still unperceived, but there nonetheless, with him, instead of above him. They were both too troubled to think about the trick behind it, and for a fleeting moment, it felt as if they were real again. If Lily hadn’t known any better, she would have sworn she felt the chilly autumn wind whisper through her formerly auburn hair, she would have sworn she felt the gravel crunch and roll under her feet, she would have sworn she felt her tears slide down her cheeks and freeze on her clammy skin right before they tipped past her chin, and she would have sworn she felt the texture of Remus’ wool coat under her hand as she placed it longingly on his shoulder, heat radiating from him under her palm. But she knew it was nothing more than a mere wish, sometimes she even wondered if she ever truly felt James’ touch, or if it was yet another fragment of her imagination, a shard of her shattered past. Neither of them was sure anymore, if they still resembled their former selves and had a partly physical form or if they were simple spirits, shadows of people, slivers of energy.

Lily and James stood there for long minutes beside their friend, quiet, not daring to move, just watching him, being there with him. Lily would have given anything to know what was going on in his mind, but he remained silent. Finally, as the last few pale rays of sunlight tinted the grey sky a light golden before being swallowed by the night’s shadows, a hoarse whisper escaped his lips:

“I miss you…I…I’m so alone now and I don’t know what to do.”

His head hung low, dull chestnut curls hiding his face, but Lily could tell he was crying by the slight shake of his shoulders. Her heart tightened, clenched by pain, that is if it still existed somewhere.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” he continued with more vehemence. “I don’t want to live like this anymore!”

Remus had almost shouted the last few words and looked as if he were about to say something else when the sudden crack of Apparition cut him off. Albus Dumbledore appeared between the gravestones, dressed in dark blue robes, looking tired, eyes wary.

“Remus, I assumed I would find you here. I am very sorry but I must interrupt your mourning, there is an urgent matter I must discuss with you. Will you—“

“Professor,” interrupted Remus, finally looking up.

His eyes were puffy and red, and ill-defined traces of tears lined his hollow, bony cheeks. Lily couldn’t help worriedly noticing how much thinner he had gotten, bones pocking out from beneath his coat.

“Do you believe Black killed James and Lily and Peter?”

Next to her, James flinched at the question; Remus hadn’t called Sirius by his last name in years.

“I…I am afraid all the evidence point to that, nothing is indicating otherwise,” answered Dumbledore quietly but resolutely.

“NO!” Vociferated James. “SIRIUS DID NOT KILL US, PETER, THAT TREACHEROUS RAT DID! SIRIUS WOULD NEVER DO ANYTHING LIKE THIS! HE IS MY BROTHER! HE ISN’T CAPABLE OF MURDERING ANOTHER HUMAN BEING!”

“James! James! They can’t hear you, my love, as unjust as this is there is nothing we can do!” Said Lily sadly, attempting to calm her husband down, yet her voice shook with contained fury.

Remus said nothing for a while, looking pensively into the distance, watching as the sun finally set, but something in his gaze had hardened.

“So he killed them,” he declared at last. “Black killed his best friends, those who gave him everything, and he abandoned me and betrayed me too…”

“No! Remus! Listen, it’s false! It’s not what it looks like! Dammit, Remus, listen to me!” Begged James desperately, trying to grasp his friend’s shoulders, but his hand went right through him, slicing through the air.

“He killed them,” repeated Remus bitterly. “I guess the Black in him won, after all, joined Voldemort, didn’t he?”

“I suppose so, yes,” nodded Dumbledore.

The words hit Lily like a punch in the gut as James sunk with a defeated and miserable sigh next to her.

“Old fool,” he mumbled.

#marauders fanfiction #James and lily are dead #jily #albus dumbledore #remus lupin #remus lupin fanfiction

[nalgenewhore]

With My Life - Chapter Three 

masterlist - ao3 - last chapter - next chapter 

warnings:  (all graphic) violence, gun violence, blood, smut, implied PTSD

an: it’s just....sad 😔

Elide woke up on the large couch in Lorcan’s living room. She’d been sleeping there for the past three days - Rowan told her to stay here. To take her time. 

She didn’t deserve it. 

Who was she to mourn a man she thought of as stress relief? Who was she to mourn a man she’d known for… not even a year? Just because she loved him- that didn’t mean anything. Didn’t give her the right to grieve for him. 

She couldn’t bear to sleep in his bed, the one they had shared for such a precious amount of time, so she opted for the plush couch, which, despite its luxury, was still uncomfortable. Elide wished she could, just to be wrapped up in his sheets, but her heart had cracked the moment she’d stepped foot in and Rowan had found her hours later, shaking on the threshold of his bedroom.

It took more energy than usual for Elide to get to her feet and shuffle into the kitchen, body and mind on autopilot as she made her daily tea. 

The burial today. Rowan and Vaughan had managed to find an Ozuye healer to conduct the rituals, per Lorcan’s people and heritage. 

There was no body. In the mugging gone wrong, he’d been brutalized so badly that… there wasn’t a body to bury. 

Her chest heaved at the thought of the man she loved being hurt that badly. That he had died alone and in pain without knowing she loved him. 

Everything tasted like ash in her mouth. Her tea, her porridge, the fresh fruit Darrow had sent her from his peach tree. She could only eat three bites before her stomach was full and she had to dump it all in the green bin, hugging her stomach and trying not to cry. 

The oven clock told her she had just under two hours till the service, which meant she had just enough time to have a shower and make herself look presentable. 

She opted to use the downstairs bathroom and after, she didn’t have enough strength to ignore Lorcan’s thick bathrobe and donned it, wrapping the belt twice around her waist before tying a neat knot. It smelled like his cedar shampoo and like the sweetgrass and white sage he smudged with. It almost felt like his arms around her and Elide found it in herself to smile softly, pulling the soft collar up to her face and burying her nose in the fluffy material, inhaling his scent. “I miss you,” she whispered, kissing the collar once. 

Elide padded back out into the living room, undoing her hair clip and letting her hair fall free just as someone knocked on the door. Panic seized her and she had to remind herself that Rowan and Connall had already told her, that Lorcan was already dead. 

Still, her heart remained in her throat as she walked over to the door and opened it, protecting herself by remaining half hidden by the door. 

It was Aelin, who stood there with a bag of clothes. “Ellie, hi.” 

“Hi, Ae.” She stood to the side and opened the door more fully, letting Aelin in. “What have you got?” She looked down the hallway and saw Nehemia bustling with a tray of coffees and a parchment pastry bag. 

“Oh,” the golden haired woman said, flipping her hand dismissively, “Ro told me you hadn’t been home and I figured you didn’t have any clothes here so I popped by your place.” Aelin hadn’t stopped moving after she put down the near bursting bag. She was flitting over everything, touching every surface and running her finger over the edge of the bookcase, frowning at the non existent dust. “There’s a nice dress - go put it on, sweetheart, ok? Nehemia will get your hair fixed for you.” 

The door shut and Elide turned to see Nehemia, whose eyes were filled with barely concealed grief. “Elide, honey. Did you eat today?” 

“Wasn’t hungry,” she said. She still wasn’t, but Elide knew better to say no to Nehemia as the dark skinned woman pressed a pain au chocolat and an iced latte in her hand. 

“I made sure it was iced,” Nehemia said, putting the coffee and other pastries down on the kitchen counter and then smoothing the skirt of her knee length sheath dress, its black sleeves going down to her wrists. The ends of her signature cornrows were twisted into a bun at the nape of her neck, no golden cuffs adorning them today. 

“Thank you,” Elide said, sipping from her coffee and taking a bite of her croissant. She took another and another when the two women gave her pointed looks. She looked down at her hands, “Really, I don’t deserve it. Me and him… we were never really anything serious, but I- I loved him. I love him.” 

They both smiled sadly and approached her, hugging her carefully to avoid upending her breakfast. Nehemia cupped the back of her head while Aelin’s arms wrapped around her waist. 

“We know,” whispered Aelin, resting her cheek on Elide’s shoulder. “Ohitekah, he… you know.” Per what Vaughan had told them, the deceased’s given name was never to be used again, for they feared his soul and being would never be able to cross over to the next plane. Vaughan had shared Lorcan’s second name with her first and Elide hadn’t been able to help her tears when he told her it meant brave and war-like. 

She cried, feeling the two of them take the coffee and the pastry from her hands and putting them elsewhere. “It’s ok, we’ve got you,” Nehemia said, kissing the top of Elide’s head. “We got you.” 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

It took a little convincing to let Aelin let her drive herself, but Elide managed it. She needed the calming effect of driving, just her, the car, and the road. 

She took his Aston Martin over her Jeep Wrangler, feeling him in the sleek leather interior, feeling the warmth of his hands when she gripped the steering wheel and pulled out of the parking garage just behind Aelin’s car. 

The rain pattered onto the windshield and Elide thought the weather was fitting today. 

The cemetery was fifteen minutes outside of the city and it only took five for a sinister voice in Elide’s mind to whisper vicious, hateful things. 

You never cared about him. You only loved him when he died. You’re selfish - going to his memorial service and disrupting his hurting family is selfish.  

Elide drove on, trying desperately to keep her tears at bay as she pulled into the parking lot, parking away from everyone else. Maybe she shouldn’t have taken his car, maybe one of the boys would like it… Fenrys. Maybe Fenrys would want it. She should ask him. 

After a few minutes of waiting, Elide opened the door and opened her umbrella, putting it over her head and walking over the gravel to the small, quaint and intimate graveyard. 

She unlatched the gate and looked up, realizing the service had already begun and she was late. Fuck, what was wrong with her? Why was she even here? Nobody asked her to, nobody invited her. 

Anneith above, this was so rude, but she couldn’t exactly go back, certainly not when Rowan spotted her and nodded his head once, then turned back to the priestess. Elide looked past the line of black clad mourners and saw a bundle - the ashes of some of his most prized possessions so he could have him wherever he went - dressed in beautiful fabric, the beadwork to die for. 

She thought about taking a step forward but stopped herself and stood beneath a tree. Elide watched, with misty eyes until the last requirements had been done and what remained of the man she knew had been buried. 

Slowly, slowly people started to walk away, huddled together underneath umbrellas. It looked like Aelin was tucked into Rowan’s side, but, really, the blonde woman was shoring her husband up. 

Nehemia had her hand tucked into Fenrys’ elbow and held onto Vaughan’s hand, squeezing it and smiling softly at the two of them. Connall brought up the rear, hands in pockets and head hanging low. 

Rowan spotted her first and offered a slight smile. “Elide,” he said, his voice low and rolling, his strong burr running over his words, “I’m glad you came.” 

“I- I’m sorry I did. I know I probably shouldn’t have, but–” 

Rowan hugged her tightly, waiting until Elide tentatively wrapped hers around his waist. “He wanted you to be here. You’re family, Elide.” He pulled away and gave her a slightly grief-strained, but supportive, smile. 

She was passed off to Aelin, who wiped her tears away and kissed her brow, “I won’t be there this afternoon ‘cause I have dress rehearsal, ok? But me and Nehemia will come over tonight, if you want.” Aelin was a concert pianist for the Wendlyn Opera Company and the spring show would be starting in a week. 

Elide looked at her in confusion, “What’s happening this afternoon?” Aelin gave her a quizzical glance and looked up at her husband, her question dying on her lips as Rowan subtly shook his head twice. Repeating herself, Elide stared directly into Rowan’s eyes, making it impossible for him to look away. “Rowan, what’s happening this afternoon?” 

Everyone else suddenly found other places to be as Rowan sighed and toyed with the cuff of his suit jacket. “They’re reading the will. Ohitekah… his lawyer called this morning to say that you needed to be there.” 

The ground was falling out from beneath her feet and Elide blinked slowly, not quite sure she’d heard him correctly. “Wh, why would I need to be there, Rowan?” 

“I don’t know, Ellie. All I know is that you’re named in his will so… you need to be at the reading.” 

Elide nodded dumbly, her mind reeling. “O… kay. Ok. Um, yeah, yeah, I’ll- uh, I’ll drive there - where, where is the office?” 

Rowan gently took the keys from her and passed them off to someone else, Elide wasn’t sure who. “I’ll drive. C’mon, we’re gonna be late.” 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

When they got to the office, Rowan offered Elide one of the chairs before the sleek, glass desk as they waited for Lorcan’s lawyer. The others sat on the couches placed around the large room. 

They sat in silence, all fiddling with something. Elide chewed on the inside of her cheek, knowing it would sting later when she ate anything and not caring enough to stop. The door opened and she didn’t turn as she heard the click of heels approach the desk. 

A beautiful woman with moon-white hair sat down on the opposite side and placed a slim envelope on the deak. “Hello, my name is Manon and I had the utter delight of being Mr. Salvaterre’s lawyer,” she said, her voice low and sultry. 

Manon looked to Elide and her burnished, golden eyes pinned Elide to her seat. “You must be Elide.” Her plush lips - painted a deep black - curled into a slight grin. 

“Yes, that’s me,” Elide said, tilting her chin up in semi-defiance and tracking her gaze over Manon’s face, catching the mild respect that flashed across her eyes. “I’m not sure why I’m supposed to be here.” 

“Ah, well,” Manon said, using a long, stiletto acrylic to slice open the top of the envelope, “I will tell you. Ohitekah’s affairs are all rather simple, I have to say. For a cold bastard like himself, I’d expect a bit of sadism, but alas.” Emotions flew across her breathtaking face and Elide was not shocked, though she wasn’t sure why, to see an echo of grief, a mirror of old familiarity. She could see why he chose Manon to be his lawyer and could see some sort of relationship beyond lawyer and client. “Are we all ready?” 

There were murmurs of assent and silently, Rowan reached over to squeeze Elide’s hand tightly. Elide didn’t look at him, but nodded slightly, assuring him she could handle it. “Yes.” 

“Alright then, let’s start.” 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

“Excuse me?” 

Manon looked up at Elide over the will, a manicured brow arched, “Yes?” 

Elide’s heart slammed against her chest and she floundered for words, opening and closing her mouth a comical amount of times. “I just- did you say I am…” 

“Mr. Salvaterre made it clear that he left his apartment, car and a portion of his estate to you.” 

“But I- we weren’t married.” 

“I am aware of that, as was my client. As it states, in no uncertain terms, this he left to you,” Manon said, passing over the paper and letting Elide read over it. 

Her eyes widened slightly as she read over the rather lengthy list of assets. It had all, save for a healthy portion that was hers, been split up between the boys. Nehemia and Aelin were also named individually and what was left had been dedicated to his tribe. “So I… I own his apartment. And his car. And this- this money is mine?” 

“Yes.” 

“Ok, um, I think,” Elide stood up, dropping the will back on the table, “I need a minute.” She walked backwards, startling as she bumped into the chair. “I’ll just be a minute.”

Rowan stood up as well and Elide threw her hand out, her chest rising and falling raggedly with her panicked breaths, “No, I need to be alone. I-I just need one moment.” 

She was not proud when she fled the office, her heels clacking loudly on the floors as she ran to the nearest stairwell. 

Elide slammed the doors open and dashed up the stairs, running up and up and up until she reached the roof. She slammed that door open too and slowed her running, the door clicking shut beside her as she leaned against the wall and slid down to the ground, her dress probably ruined by the rain and the dirty roof. 

Then, Elide sunk her head in her hands and cried.

+*+*+*+*+*+*

@mythicaitt @tinywolfofeyllwe @schmlip-scribble @the-regal-warrior @empire-of-wildfire @rhysands-highlady @ttakeitbacknoww @shyvioletcat @alifletcher2012 @tswaney17 @ourbooksuniverse @flora-and-fae @thesirenwashere @queenofxhearts @maastrash @mynewdreamwasyou @cursebreaker29 @empress-ofbloodshed @b00kworm @amren-courtofdreams @minaidss @superspiritfestival @lovemollywho @queen-of-glass @jlinez @sleeping-and-books @ireallyshouldsleeprn @verypaleninja @januarystears​

#with my life #wml chapter three #elorcan #elide x lorcan #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #isa writes #nalgenewhore #so this is like the last prequel-ish chapter #we're gonna get in toit REAL soon #like....like real soon #it's gonna be fun doe

[mythgirlimagines]

It’s near impossible to miss this infamous taiko drummer! Nicknamed “The Summoner of the Rising Sun” by regular festival goers, introducing Myth Anon, the Former Ultimate Drummer!

—————-—————————————

BACKSTORY AND TALENT

Myth was born and raised in a heavily traditional family that prides itself on its traditional values, alongside her two older sisters (who quickly rebelled and started illustrious sports careers). If there’s one thing that Myth looks forward to every summer, it’s the annual festivals that come every year, with the boisterous taiko drummers being a particular favorite of hers. One faithful summer, one of the taiko drummers that she idolizes so much decided to take her under their wing, in order to become a fully-fledged taiko drummer. Before you knew it, Myth became a massive staple of festivals everywhere, thanks to her loud voice and bombastic stage presence. When not performing at festivals, Myth likes to cheer on her sisters in their respective sports competitions, or upload drum set covers on the internet (with the help of her more technologically-adept friends). Myth’s skills in both taiko drumming and set drumming gave her the title of “Ultimate Drummer”, once she hit high school age. As an adult, her drumming skills are still going strong, and she’s currently working on chaperoning a bunch of Ultimates at the Kibo-Con.

——————————————————-

RELATIONSHIPS

Wyre Anon, Former Ultimate Samurai

Myth’s family and Wyre‘s family have been formidable allies, ever since the dawn of time, and Myth and Wyre themselves are no exception, being two birds of a feather, when it comes to sheer energy and wildness, as well as their strict upholding of their ancestor’s traditional values. Historical enthusiasts like to call them “possible time travelers from the past” or “living relics”, whenever they’re seen side-by-side. Wyre is one of the most formidable warriors that her family has ever seen, and is a beast in both brute strength and swordplay, and has an unshakeable code of bushido to those that treat her with respect, underneath that wild, feral and almost dog-like personality.

Outfit: Cleanier and smoother hair with a Nippon Icchi headband around her head, a red oni mask on the side of her head, a green and light brown haori and an off-white obi that houses a brown scabbard over a black gakuran uniform, bandaged arms and legs, black socks and white zori sandals.

Anon Scar, Ultimate Delivery Girl

Scar’s parents are the owners of the “Witch’s Brew Kitchen”, which is a restaurant that is famous for its dark and fantasy-esque wares and the employees acting a lot like what the modern generation refers to as ”chuunibyous”, when on the job. When Witch’s Brew Kitchen eventually offered online -induced delivery, they sent their ambitious daughter to deliver food (along with a couple of other employees) to all of the homes of the hungry (if lazy) customers. Time after time, Myth just winds up befuddled by Scar’s various odd actions. But Myth regularly helps Scar with deliveries, for her muscular build owes very well to lifting particularly heavy orders, much to the overworked Scar’s elation. 

Outfit: A black delivery uniform with added spiked belts, and her hair in a ponytail, the scarf from her original design..

Fusion Anon, Ultimate Racer

Able to back up his extensive and nerdy knowledge of race cars and the race track with the ability to race down the track at high speeds, Fusion became famous for his superb skills, despite his age, and made a massive name for himself in the car racing circuit and as Hope’s Peak’s ”Ultimate Racer”. Fusion and Myth regularly protect and fuss over the other Ultimates, along with Scar. In turn, Fusion and Scar regularly watch over Myth, to make sure that her fiery attitude doesn’t get her into any trouble. Myth may consider bringing her oendan team to cheer Fusion on, during his races.

Outfit: A blue jumpsuit with yellow thunderbolt designs over the red t-shirt from his original design, yellow gloves, black and white sneakers, goggles on top of his hair.

Fusion Anon II, Ultimate Pinball Wizard

With a heavy appreciation for the hobbies and pastimes of the olden days, Fusion II made a name for herself as the top pinball champion in any arcade that she happens to find eye-catching and cool enough. In an attempt to be seen as cool by her peers, Fusion II attempted to adopt the image and fashion sense of a greasy rebel without a cause that were so popular in the mid-1900s. But upon seeing a fellow history geek (albeit, a fan of the the entirely wrong time period), Fusion II’s spiked greaser shell quickly broke and her geeky side just sprang out. The two girls love to talk about their respective time periods together, and Myth learned that Fusion II wasn’t as much of a troublemaker as she thought.

Outfit: Bangs greased back, a black leather jacket and matching leather pants and fingerless gloves over the undershirt from her original design, boots from her original design.

Just Anon, Ultimate Gunslinger

Being born and raised in a kill-or-be-killed world that could take advantage of his small and weak build (and his general laziness), Janon had to master the use of a certain weapon to make it out alive and into his comfortable bed. Janon specializes in quickly drawing a gun out of his holster, shooting it with mighty precision, and putting it back into his holsters, without anybody knowing what hit them. Janon’s sheer disrespect for everybody (apart from Curious and Iris, but he’d be shot dead in an alley before said soft spot is made public) really puts him at odds with Myth, and Janon just finds Myth (and her drumming) really loud and intrusive on his (extremely-long) beauty sleep.

Outfit: A black cowboy hat, a blue and pink poncho over the formal wear and mask from his original design, brown holsters that house his pistols.

Sparkle Anon, Former Ultimate Statistical Analyst

Blessed with a high intelligence quotient and a love for calculating statistics, Sparkle works for several global companies and helps prevent them from making foolish decisions that could cause their businesses to crash and burn. Assisting all of these high-profile companies gave her quite the large ego, and combined with her love of all things theatrical, you’d get a heavily melodramatic, self-proclaimed “SUPERBLY SPECTACULAR STATISTICAL SOMMELIER”, who regularly boasts about all of the random statistics that she can name off the top of her head. Myth seems to be one of the few people that can tolerate her volume, and thinks Sparkle would make an excellent addition to her group.

Outfit: A grey pantsuit over a pink dress shirt and matching heels, the cape and glasses from her original design.

Egg Anon, Former Ultimate Thanatologist, and Wet Sock Anon, Former Ultimate Revolutionary

While similar in aesthetics and their love for inserting out-of-left-field and cursed comments into otherwise normal conversation, Egg and Wet Sock are very  different in terms of personality and talent. Despite being superbly chaotic and almost too obsessed with the concept of death, Egg is surprisingly a great grief counselor to people in mourning, while Wet Sock leads a rebellion group with an iron fist and doesn’t mince their words when it comes to the terrible state of the world. While Myth was initially unnerved by the twins, Myth eventually found out just how kind and dependable Egg and Wet Sock was in spite of their cursed comments and less-than-conventional worldviews. 

Outfits: Skull masks (symbols of Wet Sock’s movement), black sweaters with white stripes on the sleeves and a red heart in the center, blue ripped jeans and spiked black boots.

Curious Anon, Jr. Ultimate Fashion Designer

Curious was born into a family that was at the top of both the social and the fashion ladder, and Curious has been put to work designing clothes, ever since he started showing considerable skill in sketching out and designing clothes. In spite of their age, Curious is known as a fashion genius and a pioneer in the new age of gender-non-conforming formal wear, with the hybrid suit-dress being a particular speciality of their’s. Curious has a very gullible personality, and Myth regularly takes advantage of their gullibility to plan some mischief together and just toying with the fashion designer in general, much to the ire of Janon and the Freak Twins. Myth also loves modeling for them.

Outfit: Hair tied into a ponytail, a green tuxedo with white wedding dress material on the ends and white heels.

Anon Nerd, Former Ultimate Priest

Born into an extremely religious family, Nerd’s family repeatedly drilled all of the God-loving philosophies into his head and trained him to become a professional priest (just like every other man in his family) for as long as he lived under their roof. While Nerd is patient and calm, when it comes to conducting religious ceremonies, he’s the complete antithesis of that, the second he steps outside of a religious building, or the second anybody disrespects his faith, being loud, violent, and vulgar. While Nerd initially had a disrespectful and terrible attitude in the eyes of Myth, Nerd and Myth eventually became closer, thanks to their protective attitudes and shared strong and unshakeable moral codes.

Outfit: Same outfit as the original, but with the addition of a golden cross necklace.

Eldritch Anon, Ultimate Mangaka

Too scared of the outside world to even leave the squalid apartment that he resides in, Eldritch, desperate to wake the world up to the fact that they live in a dystopia, decided to write manga under the pet name “Sheeple Savior”, which are usually about seemingly-normal towns suffering from horrible atrocities, that everybody (but the “chosen one”) remains completely blind to. Years of living in an isolated apartment, combined with his already paranoid and pessimistic mindset, means that he shows a hostile distrust to everybody, with Myth’s loud and overbearing attitude just scaring the miniature mangaka away. Myth also can’t handle all of the subject matter that Eldritch writes.  

Outfit: Long and unkempt hair, a white and baggy t-shirt with a spiral in the center, the shorts, socks, and slippers from his original design.

Dream Anon, Ultimate Barista

Originally getting a job at the local coffee shop to earn some extra pocket money, as Dream spent more and more time as a barista, she eventually became one of the most popular employees at the coffee shop, thanks to her cheery and peppy attitude and the sheer passion that she puts into making and serving coffee. Before meeting Dream, Myth has never had coffee before (due to her upbringing, she prefers tea), and Dream regularly likes offering a plain latte to anybody who never had coffee before. This has led to disastrous and chaotic results, as the taiko drummer went on an utter rampage, and it took several cups of green tea and Wyre to calm the drummer down.

Outfit: A grey ski cap, a green apron over a black t-shirt with a white illustration of a steaming cup of coffee, a pink flannel shirt wrapped around her waist, grey shorts, black socks and pink sneakers. 

Iris Anon, Jr. Ultimate Bed Tester

As a young and optimistic girl with very big dreams, she takes all of the tasks thrown at her seriously and with great gusto, no matter how ridiculous the side hustles are. But her most successful side hustle yet has to be a bed tester for a heavily influential bed-manufacturing company, called “Sweet Dream Industries”. Getting the Starry Iris Badge of Approval is how one knows that a bed is comfortable and satisfactory to sell. Needless to say, when Myth first met Iris and heard about her talent, she was outright cackling for minutes on end. Once she got over the thought of Iris’s talent, she began viewing Iris as a younger version of her, and is extra protective of Iris for that reason.

Outfit: Hair in two messy braids, glasses on top of her head, galaxy-printed pajamas, yellow ankle socks.

Purple Anon, Ultimate Card Shark

Though originally the scion of a very influential family, Purple’s parent ended up going bankrupt after accidentally getting tangled up in the criminal underworld. Now at the bottom of the social and monetary ladder, Purple decided to take to the gambling tables, in order to replace the riches that her family ended up losing. From there, the shy scion learned about her talent for deceit, and became known by many as the Ultimate Card Shark. Ever since Myth heard about Purple’s talent, the strong-moral-compassed drummer didn’t want to tangle with anyone who lied for a living. This makes Purple one of the few Kibo-Con attendees who Myth openly dislikes, much to the dismay of the timid gambler.

——————————————————-

PERSONALITY

Drummer!Myth has a very loud voice and an equally boisterous presence, which really helps her be heard in the festivals that she regularly attends, as well as leading her oendan group/band. Despite seeming overbearing, rough, and hard-headed, once you get on her good side, you have only the most loyal and supportive friend by your side. Despite being the youngest sister in her family, she often acts like a supportive and protective older sibling to the Ultimates and Jr. Ultimates. She loves using her strength to help anybody in need, and it gave her infamy amongst her hometown, for her helpful attitude and the physical abilities to back it up. Apart from drumming, Drummer!Myth also has a love for sports (thanks to her two older siblings) and ancient history and traditions (thanks to her upbringing), and wouldn’t tolerate anybody who disses either of those things. 

—————————-——-——————-

APPEARANCE

Drummer!Myth has wild and tousled brown hair in a ponytail held by a white ribbon with a pink headband around her head. Drummer!Myth simply wears her oendan/festival wear, which consists of a sleeveless robe that’s white on the left side and blue on the right side with a special purple pattern on the bottom, and tying it all together is a pink obi. Underneath the robe are white bandages that bind her chest and black shorts. The bracelets on each of her bandage wrapped arms match her shorts and she wears white socks and geta sandals that boost up her height.

——————-————————————

I honestly have no idea why, but I decided to go for a different drummer, as opposed to the kind that Max is. I decided to take cues from the two best fictional taiko drummers I know: Saeko from Haikyuu, and Tomoe from Bandori! I hope you like this design! Let me hear your opinions on this AU!

#submission #anon #fusion anon #art #not my art #fusion anon ii #purple anon #curious anon #sparkling anon #dream anon #iris anon #eldritch anon #just anon #wet sock anon #egg anon #anon nerd #anon scar #my evil twin #anon kg #talentswap tuesday

[pressedinthepages]

Family Business

Chapter 3: Date Night

A/N: Whoops, our hands slipped. Myself and Margaret (@sometimesiwrite) have completed another chapter about these two silly boys! In this episode, Eskel sees a new side to Julian, and they finally are able to go on their first real date. But will all go as planned? Only time will tell.

also, I, Erica, will not apologize for making Lambert extra sexy.

Warnings: discussion of past death of a loved one, super soft flirting, loss, mourning, brief mention of religious-based homophobia, slightly NSFW texting (nothing explicit), unnamed character being an ass to a hostess, maybe...another k*ss?

Previous chapter: Here!  Erica’s Masterlist: Here!  Margot’s Masterlist: Here!

ENJOY!

Eskel’s phone vibrated in his pocket as he passed a latte to the last customer of the breakfast rush. It was 10:24. Perfect. Plenty of time to clean up, check the espresso, and… take a look at the notification he knew was waiting for him on his lock screen. He checked around as he rinsed the cloth for the steaming wand and wiped the countertops. Geralt was sipping away at a glass of ginger-apple-kale juice (typical), and Lambert was busy cleaning off the panini press, apparently hellbent on breathing in as much of the cheesy bread fumes as possible (he always did love the smell of a grill top). No new customers. All clear. Eskel pulled out his phone and saw a text notification—Julian.

Still up for helping out? I am...stressing.

Eskel smiled at his phone screen and thumbed in his passcode. I’ll see what I can do, but as you know, Lambert had to dress me yesterday so… you have fair warning.

Three little dots floated on the screen. Julian was typing. Eskel glanced around to make sure no one was waiting for help and that Lambert was minding his fucking business.

Ok, option one:

And then, an actual photograph of Julian sitting in front of his mirror wearing a tastefully loud dress shirt—black with white vines and flowers. As Eskel examined the photo more closely, he realized that the young man was also wearing a… a well-fitting pair of dark boxer briefs. Thankfully, the hand not holding the phone was resting in his lap and obscuring anything salacious. Eskel blushed bright red and immediately lowered his phone. He breathed out slowly. Okay. Okay! This is… this is okay. This is a normal adult thing to do. Eskel’s mouth was very dry as his phone pinged again. There was no reason to be feeling embarrassed or… Then again, maybe he hadn’t meant anything by it. After all, Julian was younger, less inhibited, had fewer hangups about modesty. And even if he did mean to be an absolute scoundrel, this was… healthy. Yeah. Healthy. Eskel arrived at the conclusion that, at the very least, Julian trusted him, and he clung to that as he opened his phone back up, desperately wishing he wasn’t at work.

And option two:

Now Julian had on a pair of pants, thank Christ. But Eskel couldn’t help but laugh. They were bright red corduroy bell-bottoms and potentially the most atrocious things he’d ever laid eyes on, even with his self-reported lack of fashion sense. Julian was also sporting a navy vest. But this was no ordinary, everyday, run-of-the-mill kind of vest: it was decorated with large jewel-tone flowers emulating stained glass, and covered so much of the base colour it was barely visible. What was perfectly visible was Julian’s bare torso underneath. Arms, shoulders, and the top of his chest were on full display, while a coquettish tilt of his head gracefully extended his neck. Jesus. Eskel could just make out the crease and dimple of a grin on the side of Julian’s face in the mirror as he turned his head away. You cheeky little bastard.

Eskel’s fingers hovered over the keypad for a moment before settling on a reply. He didn’t want to encourage him too much and risk an… awkward situation at work. On the other hand, he still deserved a little credit for boldness. Well, those are two very different options Julian.

Julian’s reply was almost instant. I CAN HEAR YOUR JUDGEMENT FROM HERE.

Eskel chuckled, Only of your fashion choices, I assure you ;)

Meanwhile, across town, Julian gaped at his phone in amused surprise. He...that bastard winked at me...good. Julian looked over the piles of sequins, florals, polyester, and lycra he’d stripped out of his closet, feeling quite pleased with himself. His eyes tracked to the one chair in his bedroom on which he’d carefully draped his already-ironed outfit for that evening. (Oh come on, give me some credit. I’m not completely helpless. I know how to dress for a date).

Julian shucked off the pants, a favorite, and let the vest fall to the floor. He carefully pulled out a pair of bright, sparkly golden boots and zipped them up to his knees before striding back to the mirror. He snapped a quick picture, cropping it to show just enough and still be considerate of the recipient. His phone shwooped it back to Eskel, and Julian worried his bottom lip while he waited for a reply. Had it been too much?

Eskel’s phone buzzed in his pocket as he handed a coffee and a muffin to a customer. He reticently reached into his pocket. How far was he going to take this? His heart beat a little faster as he opened his phone to reveal the photo. “Yup okay, that’s…” He closed his phone and leaned heavily on the counter, exhaling a little too intentionally.

“Mouth a little dry?” Geralt was beside him holding a glass of water with a slice of cucumber happily floating inside.

“I—what? No, I’m…”

“Texting with the Boy? Just drink the damn water and try to keep it cool.”

“Yeah, that’s great advice, Geralt, thank you.” He drained the water in a few gulps and heavily set the glass back on the steel counter, “Jesus.”

Geralt said nothing, but took the glass away, giving his brother an encouraging pat on the back. His amused laughter was audible, though, as he grabbed his iPad for inventory.

Eskel took a deep breath and opened his phone again: Perfect. You’ll fit right in.

Eskel sighed as the bell on the door chimed three times in quick succession, a line already forming as his new customers looked over the cold case. Right on time. His phone vibrated once more in his pocket while he started taking orders, and he stepped over to the espresso machine as Lambert took over the register.

***

Julian ran his hand through his hair, letting it flop artfully back down as he gave himself one last once-over. He had on a dark pair of jeans which he’d rolled up just high enough to show a peek of his bright fuschia socks, which somehow didn’t class with his red Doc Marten brogues. The shirt he’d actually chosen to wear was navy blue with red, fuschia, and turquoise plaid accents on the inside of the cuffs and collar, pearlescent buttons glinting down the front. He’d arranged his sleeves carefully for an optimal pop of colour, and he’d left just enough buttons open to be both casual and flattering—showing off a hint of chest hair and clavicle—while still being subtle.

Julian’s phone let out a muffled ding from...somewhere in the room. “Shit, where’d I put my…” He hadn’t heard back from Eskel all afternoon. He probably got busy, he told himself, but a part of him still couldn’t help but worry he’d pushed too far too soon. In his joyful impulsiveness, he’d lost track of the fact that they hadn’t really talked about anything—boundaries, preferences, that kind of thing. It made sense that they hadn’t, they’d only just had their first date (kind of). But after the fiasco of the previous night, he’d wanted Eskel to feel wanted, appreciated.

He eventually did find his phone, tucked just barely under the edge of his bed after a somewhat frantic shaky-handed scramble. How it ended up there, he’d never know. A text from Eskel blinked at him from the screen and Julian’s lips turned up in a soft smile as he unlocked his phone with a cold thumb.

Sorry for the late reply, had a bit of a busy day. Just finishing getting ready, can’t wait to see you :)

Julian held his phone to his chest and sighed, happy and relieved, turning to the mirror propped up against his closet door. “Okay, Jules. You can do this. He likes you. He kissed you. He was flirting with you this morning, and you did not scare him off. It’s just dinner. Everything’s gonna be great. It’s gonna be lovely food, and...wait, where are we going again?”

Right on time, his phone dinged again. Here’s the address for the restaurant. Should be about a fifteen minute walk from your place.

Great, thanks. See you soon :) Julian looked at his watch. Shit. “Okay. Time to go.” He paused with his hand on his doorknob, “Uhh, phone, wallet, keys… do I need a jacket? What temperature is it?” It was an awkward temperature. Jacket would be too warm. No jacket would be too cold. “Oh my God, fine, I’ll carry it.” With that, he locked the door behind him and clattered his way down the musty, worn stairs of his walkup and out onto the sidewalk.

Eskel nervously loosened his tie a little, not wanting to look too rigid, and adjusted his sleeves. “Okay. Okay, okay, okay. It’s just dinner. He likes you… Jesus, he better like me after all that.” He gave his hair a final mist of salt spray (he may have been out of touch with fashion, but the one thing he would always pride himself on was his hair). His mind wandered back to their kiss the previous night and felt a thrill tingle through him. It had been so unexpected and so… was heartfelt the right word? It had been passionate, but not just in a sexy way—though it had been that, too. Eskel was discovering that Julian was proving himself capable of a great amount of emotional depth as well as unbelievable cheek, and he was genuinely looking forward to seeing him again.

He glanced at his watch. Here’s the address for the restaurant. Should be about fifteen minutes from your place, he typed hastily, wanting to give Julian a grace period in case he really was struggling to figure out what to wear—though Eskel had strong suspicions that he already knew full well what he was planning on wearing and that the morning’s texts had been for his sake alone.

Eskel carefully pulled the tan jacket over his shoulders and peered around his living room in case he’d forgotten anything. His eyes landed on the framed photo above the fireplace. He took a tentative step forward, “Hey, Jo. You’re still lookin’ real good, you know that?” He took a few steps closer, and modeled his outfit. “Not bad, right? I’m, uh, listen, I’m going on a date tonight. I’ve met someone.”

He leaned against the mantle, hands resting on either side of the recently-dusted frame, a melancholy settling over him as he looked at the familiar face. He shok himself out of it, “I think you’d like him. A lot, actually. He’s, well he’s a lot of things, but he’s…he cares. And I think he could make me happy if I play my cards right.” He smiled, “Thought you’d want to know.” He glanced at his watch, “Alright. Wish me luck.”

He gave a loving wink to the photograph and turned to the door, feeling for his keys in his pocket before letting it lock behind him.

The breeze blew gently through his hair as he waited for Julian outside the restaurant, going over the list of Fun Things To Ask On A First Date in an article he had pulled up on his phone. It was a cool evening, but it was clear that winter had more or less had its last laugh: the crocuses were starting to come up in the planters on the sidewalk, and the air had that sweet smell that only came with warmer weather. A beam of sunshine illuminated the sidewalk and passersby as Eskel kept an eye out for his date. He wasn’t waiting long, though, and smiled wide as he caught a glimpse of well-coiffed chestnut hair and a flash of bright blue coming towards him.

Eskel greeted him with a kiss on each cheek, but he was quickly pulled into a firm hug. Julian pulled back so his blue eyes could give Eskel a proper once-over.“You look unbearably handsome, Eskel, how dare you.”

“Julian, you look very nice. Can’t help but notice you’ve worn, let’s see, none of the options you tormented me with this morning.”

“Are you disappointed?” Julian asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Nope,” Eskel replied simply, opening the door and letting his date enter first.

“And they say chivalry is dead,” Julian cooed as he brushed past catching a whiff of mellow cologne—smokey and sweet with hints of cedar and maple. They were greeted by a young woman at the host stand who smiled gently at the two of them.

“Hey, Jess” Eskel smiled in return, carefully placing his hand at the small of Julian’s back.

“Eskel! It’s been a while since you’ve stopped in, I guess the cafe’s keeping you three pretty busy. I’m so glad it’s doing well!” Julian glanced back and forth between the two of them as the gears finally clicked into place. Jess led them to their table, tucked away in a private corner, and Julian slunk into the booth as she walked away.

“You didn’t tell me that this was your dad’s restaurant!?!?!” Julian hissed lightheartedly.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t want you to think my whole family would be watching us,” Eskel cheeked as he filled Julian’s water glass from the carafe on the table, and was met with a quizzical look. “In all honesty, it’s one of the few places I can always get a table on short notice this late in the week. Besides, it’s comfortable.”

A few more gears clicked. Of course. This was a public place where he not only knew the staff, but also knew the space like it was his home: he’d worked the bar, served guests, hosted… He felt a sense of ownership and belonging. It didn’t matter whether people stared and whispered, because he knew the placement of every single piece of glassware and cutlery, and they didn’t. The restaurant itself was like family to him.

Julian nodded understandingly, and grinned as their server approached the table. He was tall, with honeyed skin and dark wavy hair, startlingly green eyes, and an impeccably-groomed goatee. “Hello there, can I interest either of you in any drinks to start off?”

They each ordered a glass of red wine and Eskel sat back, quietly observing his companion. Julian’s sea-blue eyes were flicking back and forth over the menu before him, his brow furrowed at the sheer number of different options, some of which contained ingredients printed in Italian.

“Can I make a recommendation?” Eskel cocked his head with a smirk.

Julian pursed his lips for a moment, glancing up at his date before gluing his eyes back to the menu. “Yes. I am terribly out of my depth.”

“I said the same thing to Lambert last night. Listen, why don’t I order for us, and we can both relax a little?”

Julian’s eyes swept over the menu one last time, “Please, God, yes.”

“Anything you don’t like, aside from spicy?” Eskel asked, taking Julian’s menu from his helpless hands.

“Not a huge fan of alfredos.”

“Well, that’s fine, we’re both drinking red and that doesn’t pair with cream sauce, I wouldn’t allow it, anyway,” he answered back. It was an offhanded comment, but Julian caught the radiant heat off Eskel’s flare of confidence as the restaurateur casually glanced over the menu. This was a different Eskel, completely in his element with absolutely no doubt in his mind that he was correct about every decision he was about to make. Julian wanted to jump across the booth and pick up where they’d left off the night before. Instead, he sipped his wine, savouring the palette as it tingled the back of his throat and warmed his stomach.

“You’re very sexy when you talk about wine pairings.”

Julian watched a pretty pink flush spill up Eskel’s chest and neck, just barely tinging his cheeks. Their server had impeccable timing, choosing that exact moment to make a beeline to their table. “And how are we doing over here? Ready to order?”

He may have been briefly flustered by Julian’s comment, but Eskel’s tone immediately shifted into that of a professional in his home environment, “We’ll start with the carpaccio with the truffle oil, please, and then I’ll have the penne calabrese, and he’ll do the spaghetti carbonara. And could we get a bread basket before the starter, please?”

“Of course. All delicious choices, I’ll get everything started for you.” Their server left them once again, and Eskel felt Julian’s fingers brush over the back of his hand.

“I don’t know how to explain this,” Julian murmured, barely loud enough for Eskel to hear, “but that was incredibly attractive.”

“What, ordering food?” Eskel laughed but didn’t move his hand away. Instead he let himself relax into Julian’s touch.

“Well, yes, but there was more to it.” The musician’s slender fingers gracefully coasted over the landscape of knuckles and veins—accentuated by years of pouring neatly from full bottles and carafes, and carrying water glasses and full plates. “It was your demeanour; the way you held yourself, looked out of your eyes, it all shifted a little. It was subtle, but it’s… sexy.”

Eskel smirked and leaned back in his seat, letting Julian’s fingers lazily fiddle with his, “Really?”

“Yes, really. It’s—you’re confident and in your element. You’re highly skilled.” Julian paused for a moment, scanning this new Eskel in his natural habitat, “You could take over and serve this entire restaurant if you needed to. Couldn’t you?”

“Easily,” Eskel answered, his brow set in easy certainty. His expression quickly softened into an easier smile, and he gave his date a little wink. “But don’t tell the—”

“So sorry to interrupt,” their server had glided his way over to the table with surprising stealth, “but the chef was wondering if he could have a word with you, Eskel.”

Eskel sighed, clearly having wanted to avoid playing Backup Owner for the night, “What, about the order? Or is it something else?”

Their server shook his head, his dark locks shaking over his forehead, “He wouldn’t say, just asked me to bring you back to him for a moment.”

Eskel deflated, looking conflictedly back to Julian. It was part of his life, being in the restaurant business meant being on-call almost any time during business hours for any number of things. Still, if this date was going anywhere meaningful, he didn’t want to start their entire relationship by abandoning him to tend to a work crisis. Julian reluctantly let his fingers drift away from Eskel’s hand, “Go on, I’ll be fine here, it sounds important. Just don’t get roped into working in the kitchen?”

“I may be a workaholic, but I’ve never once abandoned a date at the table. Back in a sec.” Eskel heaved himself out of the booth and followed the waiter around the dining room and through the doors to the kitchen, fully ready to step into his Owner’s Son Who Used To Work Here shoes.

However, it wasn’t the head chef waiting for him. It was… the owner’s son who used to work there.

“Hey! How’s it going out there?”

“Lambert. What are you doing here?”

“Well, you never let me wear my chef’s coat at the cafe, so-”

“Sorry, let me try again: what the fuck are you doing here?”

“Okay, okay, fine, I’m here to spy on your date. Happy?”

“Of course not!”

“You’re both looking good tonight. I mean his shirt? Bold, makes a statement, mature-yet-playful—although I have some questions about his taste in footwear. But hey-hey-hey, is he holding your hand? It looks like it, but I can’t see the wall side of the booth from the pass—”

“Lambert…” Eskel could have sworn he felt his hair actually bristling, “I cannot fucking believe you—that you would have the-the the audacity to think it would be appropriate to just—I mean, on a Thursday. How many people’s schedules did you have to mess up in order to work tonight?! Do you even remember how to be back here?”

“Please, I’m a professional. Like riding a bike.”

A metal spoon fell to the floor with a loud clatter and Eskel took a long, deep breath, “Listen, we’ll talk about this later—and believe me, we will talk about this later—but right now I have a very handsome, very thoughtful, very patient date (who does, in fact, have very soft hands), waiting for me in the dining room.”

“Okay, okay, go, I’ll text you later. But hey, hey, listen: you’re doing great, big guy. Really great. Love the menu for tonight. And the wine pairing? Ballsy to order the wine first but, damn, when you know, you know.”

“Thanks, Bert.”

“Go get ‘im, tiger!”

“Unbelievable,” Eskel muttered as he went towards the kitchen door. “Corner!”

Eskel strode back to their table, and found Julian looking intently at something in front of him, chewing on a slice of bread from the basket that now sat on the edge of the table. As Eskel got closer, he saw it was a phone, and immediately felt the lack of weight in his own pocket.

As if sensing him, Julian looked up, his eyes sparkling under the comfortable lighting in the booth. “W-pray tell, my chivalrous date,” he murmured as Eskel came to a hesitant stop at the edge of their seats, “why do you have a list of Fun Things To Ask On A Date?”

Eskel slowly, carefully slid into his seat across from Julian, feeling the tips of his ears starting to burn. “I-uh...found the article earlier...a-and, well, like you, I was feeling a little nervous... here, you know what, we can just forget you ever saw tha-”

He reached for his phone, but it was quickly held out of reach, “Oh, nononononono, we are so doing this,” Julian smiled wickedly, his chestnut hair flopping as his head bobbed with glee. Eskel dragged his hands up his cheeks and rubbed his eyes dejectedly, glancing around to see if any of their fellow restaurant goers could help free him from the private hell that was going to be the next twenty minutes.

“Question One: What’s one thing you want to ask me but you’re too nervous to?’ Ooooh starting dramatically,” Julian twinkled his fingers for punctuation.

“Oh God, do we really have to—”

“Oh yes. We do. Come on,” Julian waved him on in encouragement, “no wrong answers, I promise. Only a bit of fun.”

Eskel groaned, leaned back in his seat, and folded his hands in his lap. “Alright, fine. How old are you?”

“Twenty-six,” Julian answered without hesitation. “How old are you?”

Eskel grimaced, “Forty-two.”

“And yet you don’t look a day over thirty.”

“Hey, I work in customer service, I know a placation when I see it,” Eskel smirked playfully. “Let’s—can we move on to the next one?”

Julian grinned sympathetically, turning back to the screen. “Question 2: zodiac sign?”

“Hmm, late February, that’s Pisces, right?”

Julian smiled and nodded, “Indeed. I’m a Taurus. Stubborn-yet-endearing, thank you very much.”

“I don’t know all that much about star signs. What does all this mean?”

“Well, it means we’re compatible, in theory. Pisces are generally loyal, empathetic, intuitive, private… Taurus tends to be stubborn, patient—can be a little possessive, but I’m working on that. According to one horoscope, I apparently ‘dislike synthetic fabrics’ which is patently false as previously demonstrated by the contents of my closet.”

“Yes, and thank you for that, by the way. It was worth almost having a heart attack at work.”

Julian winked as he scrolled along down the list. “Glad you enjoyed that, because I know I certainly did. Now, what’s your lOvE lAnGuAgE?”

Eskel frowned, “What’s a ‘love language?’”

“Oh, it’s how you show and accept love. Here,” he opened the quiz on a new tab, “You can do it while I’m in the restroom.”

Eskel gratefully accepted his phone back and watched Julian meander his way to the men’s room. He breezed through the quiz questions, thinking he may as well be with his niece at a slumber party and wondering whether they were going to be playing Never Have I Ever next.

“Physical Touch, apparently,” he answered, pocketing his phone as Julian slid back into the booth.

“Well, we’re proving very compatible this evening. I’m the same. With some gifting thrown in from time to time. Where’d you put the phone?”

“You mean my phone? In my pocket.”

“Well, give it, I want to keep asking you questions!”

Eskel leaned his elbow on the table, resting his chin in his hand, “No, I don’t think I will. Later. I want us to enjoy ourselves. Actually enjoy ourselves. And the carpaccio will be up soon.” As irritated as he was with his younger brother having commandeered the kitchen, he was looking forward to the promise of an impeccable dinner. He was feeling more relaxed now, largely thanks to the joyful enthusiasm of his date, but he didn’t want to rely solely on the dubious contents of a Cosmo quiz to make a meaningful connection. Julian let himself get lost in the freckled honey-nut-hazel and the secret sadness tucked behind them. Eskel, too, took the opportunity to look, really look, at Julian’s almost-too-blue and the subtle edge hiding amongst the kindness and charisma. And so they just...looked at each other for a moment. No pretense, no joking. Taking each other in.

Julian startled at the sudden sensation, but smiled as he realized Eskel had taken his hand. He’d broken their eye contact to make sure he didn’t knock anything over in the process, but now that he’d found his bearings, the cafe owner looked back across the table to his date, “You know, I… want this to work.”

The young musician’s eyes grew big and his cheeks flushed hot with the sudden outpouring of sincerity. He already cared about Eskel more than he thought he should after so short a time, and it was both a shock and a relief to know that Eskel might be experiencing the same thing. “W—I—”

“I know that it’s early. And I know there’s a lot we still don’t know about each other. And a lot that we’ll need to figure out, and maybe we won’t be what the other needs and that’s fine. We can always go our separate ways. But I want you to know that I’m… taking this seriously.”

Julian tried to put words together, but was cut off by the re-return of their overly-handsome waiter. A large plate of thinly-sliced raw beef tenderloin was presented, prompting an abrupt release of their hands. Eskel thanked the waiter, and Julian’s stomach rumbled as he scrambled a bit to close the gap in their conversation. But what could he say to that?

He intercepted Eskel’s hand on its way to a slice of bread, “Thank you. Really. I’m taking this seriously, too. I mean that.”

Eskel gave a small sideways smile, “Let’s eat.”

Julian carefully took a portion of the carpaccio, set it on his own little plate and took a bite, and oh god the most delightfully combination of flavours and textures met his tongue. They ate contentedly, not sharing many words, but also finding it hard to look away from each other. What an excellent evening. The food was exceptional, the wine was warm and bold—hell, the whole week had been so pleasantly unexpected that they both settled into a kind of trance.

After a few minutes and with not much appetizer left, Eskel topped off their water glasses. “Alright then, my turn,” he said, dusting his hands free of bread crumbs and wiping his mouth on his napkin.

Julian blinked and swallowed abruptly. “For…?”

“Picking the questions,” Eskel pulled his phone back out and kept it well within his grasp. “Come on, there are actually some good ones in here, believe it or not.”

Julian nodded and shrugged, “Ask away.”

Eskel cleared his throat as he scrolled through the list, finally settling on his three questions. He learned that Julian worked days at an artisanal candy shop in town where he was in charge of making marshmallow animals, which he clearly enjoyed as well as having the skill and patience to do. The next question revealed that Julian had an irrational hatred of polenta, and Eskel despised parsnip, citing that they “taste like carrots wearing perfume.” The final question turned the conversation to their childhoods which proved a little more serious. Julian, it turned out, had grown up in a small, predominantly Christian town. Needless to say, his well-meaning, churchgoing parents had had a difficult time adjusting to the fact that their one and only precious little angel was, in fact, undeniably homosexual.

Eskel’s phone found its place in his pocket once more while he collected his thoughts. “I’m sorry if that brought up any—”

“No no, it’s fine! It’s a part of my life, it made me who I am now.” Julian gently set his now-empty plate aside.

“Do you, uhm, are you still in touch?”

“With my parents, you mean? Yes. We had a bit of a rocky start when I came out, but once I shipped off to university and they had some time to think a little, we started over. It’s—they try. They don’t always get it right, but they try.”

“Could be worse, I suppose. Still...”

“Family’s what we make. Sometimes we’re born with family, and sometimes we find it. Sometimes it’s a bit of both. We’ve all come a long way in the last few years.”

“That’s good to hear, I’m happy that they’re able to be supportive.”

Julian nodded, stroking his thumb over the back of Eskel’s knuckles. “Enough of my sob story, your turn. Best part of your childhood.”

“Well, once we got old enough that Lambert wasn’t ‘the baby’ anymore, we started running around causing havoc. Of course, I always tried to keep the peace, but my brothers are fucking maniacs. It’s not that I never got into any mischief myself, I was always just...better at not getting caught. I don’t think that either of them know the definition of the word ‘subtle.’”

“No, not from what I’ve gathered,” Julian smirked as he cast a quick glance at the kitchen doors. Eskel followed his gaze and caught a hint of Lambert’s hair ducking out of view and he shook his head.

“Truly? He is the bane of my existence. I love him to death, but he may end up in the fucking wall tonight,” Eskel sighed, rubbing his weary face as Julian laughed brightly.

Their server came around with their main course, and refilled their wine glasses before leaving them to their dinner. “Now, I know it’s tempting to eat the whole thing,” Eskel began as he dusted fresh parmesan onto their plates from the little bowl between them, “but we do still have dessert. My advice: don’t be a hero. We can bring home leftovers.”

“You’re going to kill me with all of this,” Julian sighed as he spun his fork in the fresh spaghetti before slurping it up. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he tried hard not to make undignified noises at the dinner table. Eskel chuckled joyfully and ripped a slice of bread in half, dipping into some of the sauce. Julian thought if Eskel committed to their…. whatever this was… even half that much as he was committed to his food, he could count himself pretty damn lucky.

“Is this how you grew up eating? Just this? Casually? Every night?” Julian wondered aloud as he continued to stuff his face as gracefully as he could.

Eskel shrugged, “More or less. Of course, we dress it up for the restaurant, and it wasn’t always pasta. Same idea though, especially when Ma was still around. Pops is pretty protective of the recipes nowadays.”

“He’s very protective of all his children, then,” Julian winked, twirling his fork for another mouthful of pasta. “When did—I mean, if you don’t mind the question, when exactly did your mum… uh?”

Eskel smiled, “No, I don’t mind. Geralt was ten, I was nine, Lambert was… five I think? He doesn’t remember much, bits-and-pieces here and there, but Pops gets out the photo albums once a year on Christmas.”

“Wow, so he like, raised you.”

“Pretty much,” Eskel nodded proudly. “He stepped up well. Of course, everybody makes mistakes. But here we are! He kept us all alive, and that wasn’t an easy feat.”

Julian shook his head with a laugh, “No, I bet not. I imagine he’s proud of you, though.”

Eskel shrugged, “Yeah. We try not to bring too much shame on the family.” A little hazel-eyed wink lightened the mood and the two continued to enjoy their meal and each others’ company. Eventually, Julian pushed his plate back.

“I absolutely cannot eat anymore if I’m going to have dessert. This was delicious.”

“I’m glad you liked it. It’s a favourite of mine.” Eskel got the attention of their waiter, “Could we get these boxed up please?”

“Absolutely. Any interest in dessert?”

“Two espressos and a tiramisu, please. And two spoons. Thanks.”

As they waited for their dessert, Julian reached across the table, waggling his fingers for Eskel’s phone. “My turn, please!”

Eskel begrudgingly handed Julian his phone, and he immediately opened the page back up. “Are you… a morning or a night person?”

“Night. I hate mornings.”

“Ironic, since you chose to open a coffee shop.”

“I know. I still haven’t forgiven myself. You?”

“I can be a morning person if I need to be, but I prefer staying up late. I write better in the evenings.”

“You have about a minute and a half before the espresso gets here,” Eskel said with a smirk, his ears having pricked at the sound of the espresso grinder kicking on.

“Okay, okay. Last one: why didn’t your last relationship work?”

Eskel went quiet. Cleared his throat. Stared at his hands on the tabletop. “I’m not going to avoid that question, Julian, but I’m going to table it for now because I don’t want to answer it here. Later,” he added with an affectionate touch to the back of Julian’s hand.

The musician tilted his head sympathetically, “Of course. And obviously, you don’t have to tell me. But if you want to, I’ll listen whenever it feels right.”

Eskel nodded and straightened his tie, giving himself something to do with his hands. “Thank you. I do want to. Just...not right this second.”

“I completely understand,” Julian reassured him before chancing a glance at the kitchen door which was swinging suspiciously.

The waiter returned with their parceled pastas, and then once again shortly after with a beautifully layered, barely-holding-together tiramisu, and their coffee.

Eskel sipped on his espresso as Julian daintily dug into the dessert-y corner nearest him: it was the creamiest, moistest, most delicately sweetened tiramisu he’d ever tasted. “Dear sweet Baby Jesus and the Mother... Eskel—and I need you to answer me honestly—do you, or do you not, know how to make this? Because if you do, I—you’re not going to have to work very hard to keep me around.”

Eskel smirked and set his now half-empty cup down, “It’s a family recipe, we can all make it. It was kind of a rite of passage growing up. You know Papa trusted you in the kitchen when he put you on Dessert Duty.”

“Maybe you could teach me someday?”

Eskel narrowed his eyes over the rim of his small demitasse cup, “Hmm maybe. Not yet, though. I still have no proof you’re not working for a rival restaurant. Someday. For now, I have to entertain the possibility that you’re a double agent.”

He took his own hearty spoonful and flashed Julian a bright smile as he chewed. Lambert had prepped this. He could tell. Every element was executed with clinical precision, from the saturation of the biscuits to the subtle eggy sweetness of the custard—even the dusting of cocoa on top was perfectly proportioned with the rest of it. Lambert had truly, from start to finish, outdone himself, and Eskel couldn’t help but think his younger brother’s hijacking of the kitchen was about more than just spying on his date. No, he’d wanted it to be perfect, as good as it possibly could be; though of course he’d never say it. He didn’t have to. Lambert was a snarky pain in the ass with a heart the size of a cruise ship. This was him saying it.

Having polished off the remains of their dessert and espresso, Eskel went to the restroom and settled the bill while Julian put on his jacket, and the two made their way to thank the hostess one last time before heading into the now-dark evening. As they approached the host stand, however, Eskel stopped walking. He was in earshot now, and didn’t like what he was hearing.

“...don’t understand, what about that table?” An irritated middle-aged man and his dinner companion were standing in the doorway.

“Once again, sir—and I’m very sorry—but that table is reserved and there’s a one-hour wait without reservations.” Jess was clearly flustered, but holding her own as Eskel hovered nearby.

“Well, then, where are the people whose table that is?” The man blustered, pointing to a recently-vacant, un-bused table.

“I’ve phoned them, and have been assured they’ll be here within their five-minute wind—”

“You know what, that’s okay, we’re going to take a seat, thank you,” the man pushed past, no longer even looking at Jess, clearly speaking solely for the purposes of shutting her up. On his way, he collided with the broad-chested, half-Italian-half-Polish son of the restaurant’s proprietor.

“That table’s reserved,” Eskel said, coolly. Julian felt a shiver down his spine as this new Eskel he’d caught glimpses of all night took full form. He seemed to occupy twice the amount of space he had before and the vague threat of physical force loomed in the distance like a far-off thunderstorm. Oh my. Julian took a few measured steps back, not sure quite what to expect. Still, it wasn’t fear that whirled in the pit of his stomach. Rather it was something much warmer, a mix of admiration and curiosity that turned over and over as he watched the scenario unfold.

“Excuse me?” The man’s watery eyes flashed indignantly as he looked Eskel up-and-down. He scowled and made to step around, “Mind your own business.”

“This is my business.” Eskel once again put himself between man and table. “To be more precise, it’s my father’s business, but we’re a close family.”

“Well, then, you should train your staff better. This girl has absolutely no idea what she’s doing. We have a reservation! We told her we had a reservation, and now she’s telling us we have to wait an hour because of her incompetence. It’s a liability to your business, having staff that can’t handle simple things like reservations, can’t keep track of a simple thing like that, you ought to fire that girl!”

Eskel looked over the man’s head to Jess who shook her head, shrugging helplessly as she pointed to the reservation list. “This woman,” Eskel continued, “has been with us for seven years and has helped us to streamline and optimize our reservation system at least three different times. She’s more than competent, she’s an asset, and now I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave. You think you can come into my father’s restaurant—any restaurant—and insult the hostess, refuse to abide by carefully structured systems and policies, and force your way to a table that’s meant for someone else? There is no table for you this evening.”

Julian’s eyes widened as he watched from his safe distance, pretending to scroll on his phone so as not to draw attention to the fact that he was hanging onto every word of this interaction. Eskel was magnificent: grounded and calm, his tone still polite but inarguably authoritarian. Julian would stake his life on Eskel not being a violent person if he could avoid it, but for someone his size, even the vaguest possibility of an altercation would be enough to make an opponent question their choices.

“What?!” the man blustered again, utterly aghast at being denied.

“I will repeat myself once: you are not welcome in this restaurant tonight. Within five minutes of walking through that door, you’ve abused and disrespected the staff, and abused and disrespected the policies of this establishment. I wish you and your companion a pleasant dining experience elsewhere.” The crossed arms as a final punctuation were almost over-the-top, but the gesture drove the point home.

Julian glanced over to Jess. She was clearly finding the whole experience immensely gratifying (who wouldn’t? It was every service worker’s dream come true). But there was something more behind her relieved expression that told Julian she was also deeply touched. It was easy to see why: Eskel at peak protectiveness may as well have been a lioness or a mother bear warding off a potential threat to her young. Besides, he was clearly enjoying himself.

“Unbelievable. This is unacceptable. I’ll make sure the Star and the Herald hear about this.”

Eskel said nothing, but gestured with an open palm towards the exit, taking a few steps forward. The irritant had no choice but to vacate the premises. There was a moment of silence as the dust settled and after a deep breath, it was Eskel who broke the silence, “Sorry about that, Jess. Are you okay?” He tapped her elbow in familiar reassurance. She nodded, taking a sip of water. It was fine, she was just a little flustered. “Want to step out for a minute or two? I can watch the door. That is—if…” he gestured to Julian, having suddenly remembered exactly why he was there in the first place. He received a flippant wave and a shrug (‘yes of course you can send the flustered hostess on a break’) and took Jess’s place at the host stand while she went through the kitchen to get some fresh air.

When she returned, Lambert poked his head out the kitchen door and whistled to get Eskel’s attention, “‘Ey! Tutto bene?” All good?

“Stiamo bene.” We’re fine, Eskel answered with an easy shrug. “Chiamerei Papà.” I’ll call Dad. He held the door once again for Julian as they made their exit, pausing to say goodnight to Jess with a familial kiss on the cheek and a reminder that his number was still on speed-dial for a reason. The two stepped out of the restaurant and,—after a final pause for Eskel to call Papa Vesemir and explain what happened—fell into a slow and comfortable amble.

The two of them walked leisurely, their shoulders bumping back forth for a while. Julian glanced up into the sparkling stars overhead and back down to where the moon shone over Eskel’s skin. He noticed that Eskel seemed a little tense, and he knew that it wasn't because of the most-recent incident. No, a question was pressing very loudly into the creases of Eskel’s forehead, and Julian so desperately wanted to know the answer—not to be nosy, but so that he could help in some way, maybe. But in the last few days he’d already gotten the sense that Eskel was a private man, and that any amount of prying would only lead to friction.

Eskel’s hand fidgeted nervously with the keys in his pocket as they wandered down the ambling side streets of Little Italy—most of them one-way with barely a car in sight in contrast with the busy main drag. He thought back to the photo above his fireplace. If he was going to take this step, it was now or never. If it went badly, there was no great loss. A good few dates, maybe the possibility of something more, but no heartbreak. If he waited, he would only run the risk of making things much worse for much longer. They wandered into a small park where a modest bridge stretched over a pond filled with ducks and small fish. They crossed halfway and stopped in the middle, relaxing in the little pocket of nature tucked away inside the large city.

Eskel took a deep breath, worrying his lower lip slightly with his teeth, and Julian couldn’t tear his eyes away as he watched him gather his thoughts, wondering exactly what information he was about to be smacked with. Does he have a secret family no one knows about? Maybe he’s a secret agent. That’d be coo- no, Jules, stay on task, he’s clearly going through it.

“So…” Eskel kept his eyes trained on the far side of the pond, watching the ducks float and mingle under the stars.

“So…” Julian said, resting his elbows gently on the old, weathered wood of the bridge rail.

“You asked earlier about my last relationship, and I would like for you to have an answer.” Eskel sighed and ran his hand down his face, discreetly scratching at the long scar on his cheek. “It’s...it’s not a happy story, I’m afraid.”

Julian stayed quiet, letting Eskel take the time he needed to say whatever it was he needed to say. His hand twitched to reach for him, but he pulled back. Let him have space. Does he need space? What if he doesn’t want space? Damnit, Julian, he’s a grown man, he’s fine just let him… be.

Eskel turned and leaned against the railing with his arms crossed in front of his chest. When he spoke, his words felt rough in his throat, but it felt good to be saying them. Felt right. “I was married before.” Julian’s eyes widened as he raised his eyebrows. He didn’t know why, but Eskel had given off a strong bachelor vibe, not at all what he would have expected from someone who’d already been settled down before. “College sweethearts, got married the summer after we graduated, got situated together as best we could—you know, nice apartment, grown-up furniture, houseplants. We made plans to move out of the city, saved up enough to put a small downpayment on a home somewhere quieter. And we did. Front lawn, backyard, space for a garden. It wasn’t much and it was right by the tracks, but it was ours. Packed everything up, rented a U-Haul (we didn’t have much stuff)... A week and two days after we moved in, a drunk driver ran a red going 100 in a 50 zone and ploughed into the passenger side door—damn near tore the car in half. I wasn’t alone.”

“Oh, shit,” Julian breathed, his eyes welling with tears, “I-I don’t know what to say, except I am so sorry…”

Eskel shook his head, still adamantly staring into the distance, his voice a little thick, “Thank you, Julian, you don’t have to say anything. I just… I wanted you to know. I’ve moved on, but I still love her, if that makes any sense.”

“I understand. Thank you.” Julian rested a hand on Eskel’s shoulder, and received a grateful squeeze from Eskel’s hand as it came to meet his. “So… I do have one question. If it’s alright, if not I can save it for another time if you’d rather not—”

Eskel shrugged dismissively, “No, no, it’s all on the table, you should be able to ask. What’s on your mind?”

“It’s just… you said… her?”

Eskel nodded, “Yes.”

“So you…”

“Found someone I loved.”

Julian nodded, feeling the tears finally break through and trickle down his cheeks, cooling in the night air. He cleared his throat, “Eskel? Could I maybe—unless you want some space, which is fine, you can just tell me but—could I hold your hand? I just, I feel like I want to but don’t know if you—”

Eskel slid his hand over the rail and grabbed onto Julian’s hand, their fingers intertwining gently. Julian squeezed, scooting a little closer to Eskel so that he could feel the warmth radiating from beneath his soft suede jacket. Julian sighed softly, mirroring Eskel as they both looked over the water. “Why now? Why me?”

Eskel finally looked over, and Julian met his eyes. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were bright and full of mourning and pain and something lighter, something that felt a lot like hope. “I think you came along at a good time.”

“Did you… I mean… have you been with many—”

“I’ve gotten all the rebound out of my system if that’s what you mean,” Eskel smirked brightly and Julian was surprised at the relief he felt to see joy come back to his companion’s face. He nudged Julian’s shoulder, “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing. At least, when it comes to people. Clothing is a different story, I’ve said as much myself. I like you, Julian. And I meant what I said about taking this seriously. You know, I… this might sound odd, but I like the way you make me feel. It’s a good feeling. And if it’s alright with you, I’d like to kiss you.”

It was slow and fluid, the way Eskel turned to face Julian, gently sandwiching him between the bridge railing and his own warm body. He didn’t crowd, didn’t press, but the soft wool of his sweater met the crisp cotton of Julian’s button-down and a thrill turned in Julian’s stomach as two large hands cradled the sides of his face. Julian swallowed and reached a tentative hand to Eskel’s right cheek. He didn’t flinch or pull away, but almost leaned into the musician’s cool fingers as they traced the jagged lines.

“May I?” Eskel’s whisper was almost plaintive and Julian could feel his breath trembling as he nodded.

Their lips crashed together and they both breathed deep in a mutual swell, noses filling with cologne and freshly laundered clothing, and the crisp smell of dampness that rose from the chilly water below them. Lips, hands, tongues, hair, bodies pressed closer, their breaths misting in the cool spring air. Only the soft sounds of sleepy ducks and the latent rumble of distant traffic could be heard as the two sunk into each other, relished one another. For Eskel, it was part-relief, part-comfort, hope and reassurance. For Julian it was also hope, but a hope that he could be good enough, be someone for Eskel to rely on, trust in. And so far, much to his amazement, he seemed to be succeeding.

When they did finally part for air, neither of them seemed keen to stray far. Eskel leaned his forehead against Julian’s, his eyes still closed as he caught his breath. Julian, however, couldn’t keep his eyes still, drinking in every ounce of Eskel that he could reach. “You, uh…” Eskel swallowed in a gulping breath, “you still have time to run for the hills.”

Julian chuckled and touched their lips back together sweetly, unhurried, a soft peck in the moonlight. “I’m not running anywhere, I promise.”

Julian could feel Eskel’s smile pressing into his own lips, and he knew he was a goner. “Good. That’s very good…”

They stood there for a while more, lingering in each other’s space as the moon peeked out from behind a cloud, hazy and golden. Though, as more clouds threatened to cover the stars in a dewy mist, Eskel murmured in Julian’s ear, taking his hand and leading him down the path towards Julian’s apartment. They took their time walking back, chatting quietly, sometimes playfully bumping shoulders until they finally reached Julian’s door. It was late, almost 10pm as they stood at the front of the walkup, both feeling slightly chilly.

“I would invite you in but… roommate. And I haven’t told her I’m seeing anyone, so. Not that I expect—er, I mean, whatever you, uh—”

“We’ll figure it out,” Eskel said calmly with a hand on Julian’s shoulder. “Plenty of time.”

With that, they said goodnight, and Eskel promised, once again, to text when he got home.

Meanwhile, Lambert had his back pressed up against the side of the restaurant, its windows dark and oblivious to the shenanigans taking place in its side alley. The usurping chef moaned as his bottom lip was gently pressed between a set of teeth, tugging gently, wantonly, with the promise of leaving him tender and swollen and wanting for nothing by the end of the evening. He knew what Lambert wanted, the smarmy asshole was an open book, and the waiter was always happy to oblige. Besides, Lambert wasn’t the only one getting something out of it. Oh no, this was an equal transaction, enthusiastically participated in by both parties.

Lambert threaded his fingers into thick, dark waves of hair and swallowed the moan he received in response. He felt the pair of hands around his waist slide down to his backside and squeeze tightly, grinding their hips together sloppily, desperately.

“I uh-” Lambert gasped between their lips, “I wanted to thank you again for helping out tonight, Aiden. It uh, I know how much Eskel needed that and-”

“Quit being such a sap and shut up so I can kiss you,” Aiden growled, pushing Lambert harder against the cold brick wall at his back and Lambert was very quickly at a loss for words. Did he have to be up at the ass-crack of dawn to go into the cafe? Yes. Was this just the beginning of a—hopefully—very long night? Aiden hooked a finger in Lambert’s belt and began tugging him towards his car. Yes, yes it was.

***

#family business #collab #eskel/jaskier #eskel/julian #fluff #modern au

[falling-feuilles]

Chapter 7

CW/TW: General Grief

The drawing room was quiet, far too quiet to be celebrating the birth of a child.

 Little Nikolay slept, swaddled in his blanket. Marya and Bourienne fussed quietly over him, remarking over his tiny hands, his little nose; anything and everything they could.

"Il est tres précieux! He will grow into a 'andsome young man, I am sure of it."

 While the two of them chattered on, Andrei and Y/N were much less involved.

 Andrei, while clearly enamored with his son, loved him in a more silent, personal way. He was never one to flaunt his affections. Whether that was due to his father, or simply his own nature, one couldn't be sure. But do not think that he resented his son. If anything, Lise had created such a sense in Andrei that he resolved to devote himself to raising his son, rather than giving his life as cannon fodder for some foolish war.

Andrei moved forward to take the child; his child, holding the small babe gently in his arms.

Y/N, on the other hand, could barely look at the child. She hadn't held him, in fact, she'd refused when asked.

She knew it wasn't his fault; he was a child, these things happened, Lise had already been at risk and she'd known exactly what it was she had been risking.

He looked so much like her. Too much for Y/N to bear. The curve of his petite nose, the cleft of his tiny chin, even his eyes. She had seen them open for a mere moment, it couldn't have been longer than a second, and yet, she couldn't bear it. The same soft, silky blue as his mother. As Andrei quietly soothed the now fussy child, Y/N's mind began to drift back to the week prior...

~

The very world seemed to mourn with the small procession; rain fell in torrents, turning the once-brittle earth into a thick, miserable muck. Armed with umbrellas, the attendees surrounded the twin caskets. The priest began to speak, prattling on about the tragedy that had befallen the family. First Lise in childbirth, then her father upon hearing the news. His heart finally gave out. This left Princess Y/N Zhudova as the sole heir to a considerable fortune.

Y/N stood nearest the caskets, arm hooked into Andrei's. Despite the Priest's speech, people continued to talk, muttering to each other. Y/N heard it all.

These things happen... poor thing was too young... it's a shame... I can't believe he left everything to his bastard...

With those words, the funeral, instead of honoring the dead, became about her. She was inheriting the entirety of the Zhudov estate. After observing the expected mourning period, she would have find a husband of similar, if not higher, rank.

 Already, she heard fathers and mothers telling their sons of the prospects such an influential woman would give them. All this power, this influence, were her's to wield. And wield them she would.

~

Y/N had left as soon as she could, desperate to get away from that tainted place. After saying her goodbyes, making them as brief as she possibly could, she'd all but fled the Bolkonsky Estate.

With the funeral and Nikolay's baptism out of the way, Y/N returned to the Zhudov household, not as a daughter, but as a matriarch.

Upon arriving to the house, she was greeted by the housekeeper, a woman she'd known her entire life.

"Madame, welcome back."

 "Thank you Yelena, I hope you've assembled the staff inside?" Y/N pulled her gloves off, adjusting her inky black traveling coat. Yelena nodded, thin lips pressed into a sad smile.

"Yes, Madame, they're in the foyer."

"Perfect, thank you." “Before you go inside, I have some concerns.”

“Oh?” Y/N stopped, allowing Yelena to lead her away from the driver. Her tight, lined face screwed up in an expression of concern and paranoia.

“Yes Madame… I fear that some of the staff may have complaints about you being the head of the household now. I’ve heard talk that some—I don’t know who—” she interjected before Y/N could ask, “Are being paid by young gentlemen’s families who wish for you to marry their sons. To my understanding, they each intend to ruin your reputation as a means to force you into a marriage with their sons to secure your fortune.”

“I see…” Y/N was silent for a minute; one could almost hear the gears in her head, turning as seamlessly as the gears of her father’s precious pocket watch.

 “... Madame, what-?”

“Yelena,” she turned back towards the matronly woman, eyes sharpened like the edge of an officer’s saber.

“Y-yes Madame?”

“I have a plan, but I will need your help in carrying it out, can I trust you?” Yelena, caught off guard, nodded vigorously. Y/N had known her since she was a little girl, ever since she’d moved to live with her father. “Good.”

 Y/N strode inside, scanning the small crowd of household staff, made up of about twenty individuals, each waiting.

"Good day, everyone. As I'm sure you're aware, I will be taking over for my father in heading the affairs of the household. As you know, there is a lot of work to be done. However," Y/N continued, "As unorthodox as it may be, I would like you all to take the rest of the week off. You'll return on Monday. If you have any questions, feel free to give them to Yelena, who can inform me if she sees fit."

There was silence for a few moments, then quiet whispers between the staff. Then, they began to disperse, talking amongst themselves. As they left, a few sent strange, questioning looks towards the new matriarch.

Y/N beckoned Yelena to follow her, leading her into her father's... her study. Y/N shut and locked the door behind her.

"I'm going to ask you to do one small thing for me."

"Yes, Madame, anything you need." Y/N paused for a second, before continuing.

"When the staff inevitably ask you why I've done this, I want you to give each of them a different reason. I need to see who is loyal to our household; to me. I don't care what it is as long as it can be easily disproved; give me a list of names with the lies so I can keep track. In a week's time, we shall know who I can trust. Once you've given them each their stories, you are free to go as well."

"I... yes, ma- I mean, yes Lady Y/N... I will do as you say." 

Yelena left, muttering under her breath. Once the door shut behind the retreating woman, Y/N sank in her chair, shaking violently. The tears began to prick at her eyes, exacerbated by the sharp, unrelenting pounding of her head.

How am I to do this? My god, I’ve barely taken the mantle and already people conspire against me… 

 She had hardly allowed herself the time to mourn at the Bolkonsky estate. With everyone bustling around, there hadn’t been the time for it. Not just Lise, but father as well. Her only remaining family had been destroyed in a matter of days. She still had the child, of course. Lise’s child. Her nephew; the one she could hardly bear to look at. Y/N nearly broke down there and then, but she managed to contain herself. Just until they leave, you can make it til then became her mantra, whispered ever increasingly under her breath. Before she knew it, the long case clock struck twelve, shocking her out of her obsessive reverie.

Looking up, she noticed a small piece of parchment, lined with Yelena's  meticulous script. She must've placed it there while Y/N was less than mentally present.

Skimming through the list, she noted a few familiar names; Alexandra, the young girl whose mother had been suffering from consumption. She was lucky enough to survive, but the disease had ravaged her body beyond repair. Anna, the maid whose sister had been ill and on her last weeks of her life, had passed some months prior while Y/N had been away. She recognized most of the names, able to link them with faces she'd seen around the house.

Standing from her chair, she walked out into the hallway, moving to her room. It was only when she felt warm rivulets of water travel down her neck did she become aware of the tears streaming down her face. Wiping them from her face, trying desperately to regain her vision, Y/N entered her room, all but ripping the heavy dress and stays from her skin. Now, dressed in just her chemise and stockings, her knees gave out. She fell. Hard. Knees smacking against the wooden floor. She was certain she'd bruised them, but she didn't care. 

 A wretched, choked scream escaped her lips, releasing all the grief she'd hidden for the past week. By the time she'd ran out of breath, her vision was spotty, her throat raw and painfully, desperately dry. It was on her fifth attempt to stand that she finally made it back on her feet, leaning heavily against the back of a nearby chair. Her breath came in great, gasping heaves, but she couldn't get enough. It was becoming harder and harder to see, her eyes wouldn't stay open. 

 She heard rapid footsteps, but she was sure all the staff had left. They were getting louder, more frantic with each second. Soon after, she heard her name. The door burst open, revealing the familiar figure of a young man, panting with exertion. Y/N, doubled over and leaning on the chair, couldn't make out his face.

 "Y/N? Y/N, what-" he rushed forward, catching her before she could fold to the floor again. "Are you hurt?"

No response.

"N/N please..." Finally, she looked up.

"P... Pierre..."

"Yes, that's good..." Pierre looked around; what should he do? She was clearly distressed and, at the rate she was breathing, she'd pass out, "Listen, N/N, please, you have to breathe, please..."

Her hand wound into the fabric of his coat, fingers trembling violently. "I.. I-I can't, I can't-" she gulped, gasping for breath.

"Alright, that's alright, you just need to try, please just-" Y/N's knees buckled again, slumping her against Pierre's chest. 

 He lowered her to the ground, leaning her back against the edge of the bed-frame. He placed his hands on her face, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"N/N breathe, you're alright, everything is going to be fine..."

Pierre wrapped his arms around her, feeling her hands grasp tightly at his back. Violent, heaving sobs shook her entire body. 

~

Neither of them were sure how long they'd sat there, wrapped in each other's arms, but, when they finally parted, it felt far too short. Y/N's face was splotched with red, tear-stained; she looked exhausted. Judging by the dark circles beneath her eyes, she hadn't slept in days.

"I... thank you, Pierre..."

"Y-yes, of course. I... I'm so sorry, N/N, about Lise, about your father... I'm so, so sorry..."

She smiled softly, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"As am I..."

#pierre #pierre bezukhov #BBC War and Peace #war and peace 2016 #war and peace #xreader