#how dare you kidnap this kid i already resent | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ladydimitrescuspet · 3 years

Text

Make Me Feel Better - Chapter 3

ao3 link! fair warning, reader gets spanked, it's not like graphic or anything, but it happens. sorry for the wait, but please enjoy and tell me what you think in my ask box on @homoo-wan-kenobi! and apologies for any grammatical errors!

***

You’d told Angelika that you’d be right back after you went to go check on Natalie. You knocked on her door, hoping that she’d be in there.

"Yes?” She answered when she opened the door. “Oh, Y/N, it’s you! Is everything alright between you and Lady Dimitrescu?” Natalie asked as she let you into the room.

“Everything’s fine.” You said. “I just wanted to make sure you were fine. That she hadn’t done anything to you.”

Natalie gave you a small smile. “I appreciate that, Y/N.”

“I should probably get back.” You said. “But I’m glad you’re okay and I swear I won’t ever ask you to do something like that.” You pulled Natalie in for a hug, holding her for a few minutes before letting go. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night.” You said before you exited the room.

As you walked back to Lady Dimitrescu’s chambers you ran into Angelika coming out. “Oh, the Lady wanted me to tell you that she’s gone to speak with Lord Heisenberg and she’ll be up momentarily.” You nodded your head. “And your bath is ready.”

“Thank you.” You replied before you entered to get ready for Lady Dimitrescu’s arrival after her conversation with Heisenberg. Poor man, he was in for it big time with her. And you were right about that.

“Heisenberg,” Alcina started, but he cut her off.

“Listen, Al, before you get all huffy and puffy, let me just say this.” Alcina crossed her arms. “Y/N told me what happened with Daniela, what she said. Did you talk to Daniela at all before you shipped her off to Mother Miranda?” Heisenberg asked.

Alcina shook her head. “I saw no reason to, Heis. She lashed out at Y/N and I simply don’t have time to deal with her behaviour right now. If any one is fit to do so, it’s Mother Miranda.” Alcina replied. “Why? Are you questioning my parenting skills?”

Heisenberg shrugged. “Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. All I’m saying is that maybe you should’ve talked to your daughter first.” Heisenberg said. “It’s obvious that Daniela feels like you care more about Y/N than you do her and her sisters. And the fact that you sent her away and took Y/N’s side proves that, Al.”

Alcina growled at her brother. “How dare you?!” Alcina practically roared at him. “I appreciate you getting Y/N here safely, but you have no right to talk to me about my daughters. I care for each of them as I care about Y/N. For you to stand there and imply that my daughter lashed out because I am not giving her enough attention is outrageous.” Alcina said in a dangerously calm voice.

Heisenberg gulped. “I know it’s not my place to judge your parenting and I’m not.” Heisenberg said. “But when the girls get back home, just speak to Daniela. Obviously she’s holding some resentment towards Y/N for some reason. She lashed out for a reason, Alcina. And you, you weren’t there for her. I know Y/N needs you, but sometimes you have to tend to your family first.”

“Get out, Heisenberg. Get out right now!” Alcina yelled, her claws extending.

Heisenberg held his hands up. “I’ll go, Al, but talk to Dani before she does something you can’t reverse.” Heisenberg said. "And go easy on the kid, they were just scared, Alcina." He added before walking away from her.

Alcina allowed her claws to retract before letting out a sigh. “Maybe that idiot brother of mine is right,” She mumbled to herself as she headed back upstairs. When she entered the room you were sat on the bed without any clothes on, but wrapped in a blanket. “What do you think you’re doing?” Alcina asked.

“I got cold.” You replied, snuggling deeper into the blanket that you had wrapped around you. Alcina raised her eyebrow and you removed the blanket. “Better?” You asked.

“Much.” She replied before sitting at the vanity. “I see you didn’t listen to my instructions.”

You shrugged. “I didn’t feel like being in ropes tonight, My Lady.” Alcina raised her eyebrow again at you defying her orders to better suit how you were feeling. “May I say something?” You asked and she nodded her head. “I’m worried about Daniela.”

“As you were before you ran away, though you didn’t explicitly say that.” Alcina said. “Heisenberg’s already given me his opinion and told me that I should talk to her.”

You nodded your head. “He’s just concerned about his niece.” You replied. “And I am too. I mean, I’m still hurt by what Daniela said, but I care about her. And this Mother Miranda you sent her to, Heis doesn’t make her out to be a good person.”

“I wouldn’t call Mother Miranda a saint, but she will certainly know how to help Daniela reign in her emotions.” Alcina said. “You needn’t worry yourself with how Mother Miranda works, it’s none of your concern.”

You frowned. “Who even is Mother Miranda, Alcina?” You asked.

Alcina sighed before she met your gaze in the mirror. “That’s an explanation for another day, darling.” Alcina replied. You cocked your head to the side at the reply. “Don’t give me that look. I am very upset you with you and your actions.”

You lowered your head. “I’m s-“ Alcina cut you off.

“I don’t want to hear it, Y/N.” Alcina said before she stood up and made her way over to the bed. “You put not only yourself in danger, but that of your friend, Natalie. If Heisenberg hadn’t found you… Where were you even going?” Alcina asked.

You shook your head. “I don’t know. I just, I got scared.” You replied softly. “I had to get away for a while. I was going to come back in a few days, promise.”

“What were you scared of?” Alcina asked as she crouched down in front of you. “Were you scared of Daniela? Of me?”

You shook your head. “No, not of you, never of you. And Daniela, yes, I am scared of her, but she’s not even here.” You replied.

“Then what, Y/N?” Alcina asked, her voice a bit more firm.

You looked up at her, your lip trembling a bit. “Last night, I had a dream that I was with the people that kidnapped me. And then when Daniela snapped at me, it just made me remember the terrible things they said to me… and I got scared because what if they’re looking for me? I don’t want them to find me.”

Alcina cupped your face in her hands. “So why’d you leave the castle, little one? They’d get you out there in the village, yes, but in here? On my grounds? They wouldn’t dare touch you. Do you understand me?” You nodded your head as best as you could. “You could’ve talked to me about it, you didn’t have to run. Do you know how worried I was about you?” Alcina asked. You nodded your head. “If anything happens to you… I just can’t let that happen.” She let your face go before she went to go get the box from the other night and placed it next to you on the bed.

“What’s that?” You asked.

Alcina grinned. “It’s a surprise.” Alcina replied. “And I’d let you have it, but you haven’t been good for me. In fact, you’ve been very, very bad and Mommy is not happy with you.” You gulped as your heart race picked up. “I see you’ve grown a little scared of what I have planned for you.”

You shook your head. “I’m not scared.” But you both knew that wasn’t true.

“Oh, is that so?” You nodded your head. “Very well then. Shall I let you choose your punishment, hmm?” You nodded your head again albeit hesitantly this time. “By all means, throw some suggestions my way, draga mea.”

“I could clean the castle by myself.” You suggested. Alcina shook her head. “No sex?”

Alcina frowned. “That would be punishment for both you and me, dear. Try again.”

You scratched your head. “I could… you could have your way with me and then, then you could chain me up or, um, put me in the cellar.” You fidgeted with your fingers while you spoke.

Alcina hummed. “It’s an interesting idea, pet.” She said as she leaned down, placing her hands on your thighs. “But first, we’re going to have a little fun. Crop or paddle?”

Your eyes widened at her question. “Wh-what, My Lady?”

Alcina pursed her lips. “You know I don’t like repeating myself. Either you pick one or I do.” She growled out.

“The, um, the cr-crop.” You replied. Alcina grinned as she pushed herself off of you and headed toward her closet. “Will it h-hurt?” You called out to her. She didn’t reply so after a few minutes you called out to her again. “Alcina?”

“Yes, dear?” Alcina replied. Your words caught in your throat when she stepped out of the closet. “Dear, if you’re not going to speak then please let me concentrate in silence, yes?” You gulped before nodding your head and she smiled at you before she went back into the closet.

You let out a deep breath. She looked absolutely gorgeous in the black slip she had on. You didn’t realise she was changing when you had called out to her and the thought made you flush a bit. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t realise she’d come out of the closet until the crack of the crop made you jump.

“Penny for your thoughts, my dear?” You opened your mouth to answer but no words came out causing Alcina to chuckle. “Oh, cat got your tongue, hmm?”

“N-no, My Lady.” You replied. Your face was on fire from when you’d seen her the second time she exited the closet. She’d change from the black slip to a black lacy corset, her stocking connected to her garter belt with suspenders, and a pair of panties that matched her corset. She’d taken her hair down, letting it rest against her shoulder blades. “You look mesmerising, My Lady.”

Alcina hummed as she walked toward you. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere now, soarece mic.” Alcina said before standing right in front of you. “Up.” You obeyed, standing up face to face with her thighs. “You listen so well.” Alcina sat down in the spot that you’d previously occupied before pulling you into her lap.

“I tho-“ You started, but she cut you off.

“Relax, little one.” She cooed. “To answer your question, yes, it will hurt. But don’t worry, Mommy’s going to take good care of you after.” She whispered into the back of your head before pressing a kiss against your head.

“You will, My Lady?” You asked.

“Of course, darling.” She replied. “Now, shall I have you over my knee or would you like to hold onto the wall?” You sat on her lap in silence as she ran the crop over your thigh in a circular motion. “Won’t you answer my question, dear?” She whispered into your ear.

You nodded your head and bit your lip as you thought about which position you wanted to be in. You let out a startled yelp when you felt the crop hit your thigh causing you to cry out an answer to her. “Your knee, My Lady!” Your lip trembled at the sting of the crop, you hadn’t expected her to hit you.

“I told you that it would hurt.” She chided before she pushed you off her lap. “Over my knee. And if you need to help muffle your sounds, you may bite my thigh. I’m not in the mood to take pleasure in your noises.”

You nodded your head before you placed yourself over her knee. You felt her push her other knee against your legs to lock you into place and you braced yourself for the first hit, but it never came. “My Lady?"

Alcina hummed. “I’m just appreciating you for a moment, pet.” The statement caused you to smile and flush a bit. “How many minutes until the hour, dear?”

“Um,” You started before you turn your head as best as you could to see the clock. “23 minutes, My Lady.” You replied.

Alcina grinned. “Then you will get 23 hits. I don’t want you to count them. I want you to stay still and be good for Mommy. Can you do that for me?” You nodded your head. “Good.” She said before she raised the crop and hit your right cheek causing you to stiffen. “Was that alright, pet?”

“Yes, My Lady, that was fine.” You replied.

She didn’t reply, instead she took her time alternating between both of your cheeks as she hit you with the crop. By the seventh hit, your fingers were digging into the flesh of her thighs as you had your mouth over her thigh to muffle your cries. Alcina made sure to praise you every few hits, proud of how well you were taking your punishment. By the fifteenth hit, you were silently sobbing into her leg, your bottom had gone numb a bit, and your grip on her had tightened. Lucky for you, there were only eight more hits left. But by the time she'd gotten to 23, your body felt like jelly. Your arm was hanging down her leg and your face was pressed into Alcina. You didn't even realise that she'd finished until she sat you up in her arms.

"Hush now, little one, it's over." Alcina said softly as she pressed a kiss to your forehead before wiping away your tears with the pads of her thumbs. You pushed yourself face first into her chest to cry a little more before you allowed yourself to calm down. "Are you alright now, dear?" You nodded your head slightly in response.

Alcina then laid you down on the bed face first and you whispered at the loss of her touch. "I'll be right back, draga mea." She pressed a kiss to your temple before she got up from the bed and headed to the bathroom. When she exited the bathroom you could see something in her hand and noticed that she now donned a black robe. "I'm going to spread this over your bottom to help soothe it." Alcina explained as she sat back down on the bed.

The ointment she out on you was cold at first, but after a while it became quite comforting, making you close your eyes. "So nice." You mumbled out and Alcina chuckled a bit. When she was done she laid down next to you, pulling you back against her.

Alcina ran her hand down your cheek as your breath started to even out. You felt her press a kiss to the back of your neck as her hand came up to you neck. She pressed more kisses to your neck as she held you against her causing you to moan softly. The pleasure of the kisses only lasted a few more seconds before you felt her fangs bit into your neck causing you to scream out in shock.

Alcina drank from you for a moment before she pulled away, her mouth coming up to your ear. Her breath against your ear caused you to shiver. "You're mine." She whispered into your ear. You whimpered when she pushed you onto your back and leaned over you, her hand still choking you a bit. "Do you understand that, draga mea?" You nodded your head as best as you could. Alcina smiled before she leaned down and gave you a kiss, a bloody one to be exact.

When she pulled away, you had blood on your lips and your teeth from when she had pushed her tongue into your mouth. "M-my Lady?" You panted out. Alcina hummed as she pressed more bloody kisses to your neck and chest. "I'm sorry."

Alcina pulled herself away from you and gave you a smile. "I know, little one." Alcina said. "You've been so good for me tonight, I think you deserve a treat. Don't you?" You nodded your head, albeit hesitantly. "It's in the box, go ahead and open it."

You could still feel your blood rolling down your neck as you struggled to sit up. You reached for the box, opening it with shaky hands, gasping when you saw what was in it. You pulled out a black collar with Dimitrescu written on the middle of it, two red roses on each side of the name. The Dimitrescu family crest hung from a ring connected to the collar. You held it in your hands as you looked up at Alcina with wide eyes.

"Do you like it?" You nodded your head. "Splendid. Let me put it on you." You passed the collar to her and allowed her to place it around your neck, making it as tight as possible. "Now, if you ever decide to pull another one of your stupid stunts again, no one will touch you because you're mine." She growled as she tugged on the collar, pulling you closer to her. "Who do you belong to?"

"Y-you, My La-lady. Only y-you." You replied. There was blatant fear in your eyes that pleased Alcina.

Alcina hummed before she attached the collar to a leash. "That's right, darling. You belong to me." She tugged on the leash as she stood up from the bed. "Grab the blanket, pet, you're going to need it." You did as she told you and followed after her as she walked out of the room.

You didn't say anything, but you knew where you were headed. This part of the punishment was inevitable, being put into a cell. "Do I have to?" You asked in a small voice.

Alcina sighed. "I'm afraid so, darling. I wish I didn't have to send you down here, but bad pets need to be thoroughly punished. It'll help you think twice before making bad decisions." Alcina replied. The two of you walked in silence after that, only stopping so she could unlock the door that led to the dungeon. A shiver ran down your spine as you followed her down the stairs, the moaning and growling from the moroaică making you clutch onto the back of Alcina's robe.

"I don't like it down here." You said when the two of you stopped in front of your cell. The cell was customised a bit for you with a small bed and a desk for you to write at. And unlike the other cells, it didn't have bars, but four walls and a door. It was made that way so you wouldn't see anything disturbing and didn't have to worry about creatures being able to come into the cell. When you entered the cell after Alcina unlocked it, you turned to face her. "Please don't leave me down here." You were crying again and you could see the sadness in Alcina's eyes.

Alcina cupped your cheeks and pressed a kiss to your forehead before she straightened herself up. "I'll send one of the girls down here to check on you when they get back." Was all she said before she closed the cell door in your face, locking it.

You stumbled over to the bed, your shoulders rising as you sobbed. Laying down on the bed, you wrapped yourself up in the blanket to provide you with some warmth and comfort. You had no idea how long you would be down here. You pulled your knees up to your chest as you cried and listened to the noises of the creatures outside of your cell, wishing for this part of your punishment would be over, wishing that you'd wake up from this nightmare soon.

#lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil 8

114 notes · View notes

sondepoch · 4 years

Text

Hogwarts, Basically (Solomon x Reader)

When you finally leave RAD, the last thing you expect is to be whisked off by Solomon to a human school of magic. What you expect even less is for the white-haired mage to become your dormmate, and to be forced into a life of spells, potions, and wizardry. But what you expect the least is to find yourself pining after the sorcerer, reduced to something akin to a lost puppy, staring at him in longing at every chance you get. Or, correction: What you expect the least is for Solomon to feel the same way.

~Oneshot

MASTERLIST

At the very beginning, Lucifer warned you: stay away from Solomon. Never trust the shady sorcerer. Keep your distance at all costs, and do not interact.

But you never listened.

No, you were convinced that you knew better. That the white-haired mage had good inside him, that he wasn't a demon in human skin with an agenda more suspicious than Diavolo's own. For an entire year, you believed in him, and the two of you stayed by each other's side the whole time you were in the Devildom.

You have so many good memories with him.

The two of you pulled pranks on Asmo. Downloaded TikTok onto Lucifer's phone. Ran a scam where you auctioned your souls off on D-Bay and kept the Grimm. You egged the student council hall on April Fool's day, and you even shared your food with the guy.

So many good memories.

So many tainted memories.

If you had known where it would land you, you never would have allowed yourself to get close to him.

"I fucking hate you," You grumble, darting forward and flopping onto your bed the second Solomon opens the door, groaning as you burrow your head in your pillow. It reeks of magic, much like everything else in this godforsaken place, and you're entirely sick of it, but you're too exhausted to even care right now. "I can't believe you fucking did this to me."

"Oh please, you're acting like this is the end of the world." The mage closes the door, and you hear the sound of shuffling as he puts his books away for the day, taking off his school jacket. His actions are innocent enough, but you're certain he finds amusement in your state, and the very thought fills your lungs with even more resentment toward your current situation.

"It is the end of the world," You grumble in protest. "I'm supposed to be relaxing right now. Playing video games with friends. Hanging out at a club. Wasting time on twitter, sending celebrities stupid pickup lines. Not doing more schoolwork at another fucking school of magic."

Solomon laughs lightly, a warm sound that you wish you didn't like.

"Technically, RAD wasn't a school of magic," He tells you.

"Oh, who fucking cares? This school is! You've kidnapped me and dumped me in Hogwarts, basically, and I hate Harry Potter!"

"How unfortunate for you, then." Solomon grins boyishly as he rolls your body over, eyes twinkling with mirth as he gazes at your utterly unamused expression. "Relax. You'll begin to enjoy your time here, once you get used to the course load. I dare say you might even find it fun to learn about our magical heritage."

"When pigs fly, Solomon," You quip back, opting to ignore the fact that your potions teacher told you that your end-of-year project would actually be to create a solution potent enough to give farm animals wings.

You sigh grumpily and roll over, closing your eyes and relaxing quietly as the sorcerer pats your shoulder, quietly telling you not to nap for too long, so you have time to finish your homework later.

You ignore him, for the most part.

I'll never enjoy it here, you convince yourself. As much as you love spending time with Solomon, you don't have it in you to completely change your life and begin studying magic, irregardless of how much the teachers at this school want you to. Ignoring the sound of scribbles as Solomon begins his own homework, you tell yourself that the mage is wrong, that all you need to do is flunk out during this first semester and then you'll be returned to your normal life in your home country.

What you don't expect is for Solomon's words to be proven true.

One week into your time at the academy, you've just begun to grow used to the course load. The students at school stop raising eyebrows at your face, and as you begin to grow accustomed to the school, it becomes accustomed to you.

Two weeks in, you've already fallen into a loose rhythm.

By three weeks, you've developed what a less apprehensive person would call "friends," and by four weeks, you're genuinely giving your studies your all, learning spellwork and enchantments with an almost-passionate fervor.

By the time the month has ended, you've actually forgotten your plans to flunk out.

And though you're surprised by your change of heart, the never-fading smile on Solomon's face makes you suspect that he predicted this from the start.

You glance up at him from your textbook, momentarily halting your note-taking to study the way the enthralled light never fades from his eyes, even as he glances from book to book while continuing to draw a summoning circle for his demonology class, somehow looking pleased even as he cross-checks his image.

You groan.

You've found yourself glancing up at Solomon more and more often in these past few days, distracted from your own studying by the way his hair falls over his forehead, or the way his chest sometimes peeks through when he undoes the top buttons of his dress shirt, or the way he sometimes bites his lip cutely when going over a particularly difficult passage. Hell, you once spent five minutes staring at the sorcerer's hands, because they looked oh-so-soft as he took notes on the book he was deciphering.

The first few times, you convinced yourself that it was merely because of how eye-catching he was. And that was a fair enough excuse. After all, the colors of this academy are black and gold—Solomon's pale skin stands out against the dark fabrics of the uniform and the even-darker furnishings of your dorm room.

But after catching yourself gazing wistfully at his lips a few too many times, you were forced to confront the truth.

You have a crush on the aggravating, annoying, sassy, difficult, handsome, cute mage.

But that's not even the worst part.

You think he knows.

A warmth creeps onto your cheeks the moment you begin to think about all the instances where Solomon has caught you staring at him over these past few weeks. There are almost too many examples. Early in the morning, when his hair is all messed up. Right after breakfast, when his lips have changed color to whatever potion he drank. On your way back from school, when you walk back to the dorm together. During homework sessions like these. Right after he steps out of the shower—oh, he's caught you gawking at him far too many times after returning from the shower. (You tried to play it off by saying that you were merely studying his pact marks, but you know he knows the truth. His abs are loosely defined, but they're there, and you want to lick them so bad it hurts.)

"MC?" Solomon calls, and you blink.

Fuck, you think, suddenly realizing that you were staring at him while you daydreamed about him.

Add one more to the count, you think with an internal groan, silently wondering how many more times the sorcerer will catch you staring at him.

"You good?" He questions, and you can see the smirk he's trying so hard to fight off his face.

"Uh—I'm going to the library," You blurt, opting to avoid the sorcerer's gaze as you grab your jacket, looping your arms through it with deftness despite how utterly befuddled your thoughts are as you escape the room. You don't have your books with you, or your library card for that matter, but anything is better than responding to that all-too-playful question.

You flee before Solomon has a chance to say anything else, all but running to the stairs and sauntering on down until you're outside the dorm building, the air crisp in your lungs as you inhale sharply.

I'm such a mess, you think to yourself, the lingering warmth on your cheeks beginning to cool as you fold your arms and walk in the direction of what you hope is the library. A few people crossing you nod their heads in greeting, quick smiles thrown your way as you return them, but no one stops to converse with you, and you're left alone to debate your affections for the sorcerer.

You sigh, trying to sort out your thoughts.

Solomon must harbor some affection for you, you know that.

After all, he's spent far too many nights explaining foreign concepts to you, calmly navigating you through the waters of magic where he could have simply directed you to a tutoring board.

Moreover, you've seen how he behaves with other students here at the academy. No matter who has come to your dorm, be two kids it for a group project or a single friend in preparation to summon a demon they're interested in, there's a barrier of cool distance Solomon maintains with everyone else, one that simply seems to disappear around you.

Distance, you think, recalling the awkward way Solomon avoids physical contact with others, using sorcery to do things as simple as handing a glass of water to a guest. With you, though, you've both only grown closer, once-awkward pats now having turned into comfortably leaning on each other whenever one of you is tired. Last week, Solomon even ran a hand through your hair, and though he blinked afterward in surprise, as if he hadn't meant to do that, there was an undeniable feeling of closeness to his actions, something which others would hardly expect to see from him.

Another sound of frustration spills from your lips, aggravated at your situation with the sorcerer. The two of you are closer than others, but still not close. More than casual friends, but hardly intimate. Beyond nothing, but not yet something.

You kick a rock lying on the ground, watching it sail into the grass as you brood over the fact that Solomon is more confusing than the history of magic.

And you might brood some more, maybe even consider confessing your affections to the sorcerer in question, if not for the fact that you randomly look up and the building that greets you is not the school library.

You blink, abruptly turning around to check the way you came, but it is also a road that you've never seen, never heard of, and certainly have never navigated.

"Fuck," You mutter to yourself, realizing your predicament.

You're lost.

***

In your dorm room, Solomon is growing increasingly frustrated over the summoning circle he's been instructed to sketch. His fingers are supposed to be tracing the emblem of Mephistopheles, but it's so similar to Barbatos (and he's so used to drawing the summoning circle of Barbatos) that he keeps messing up at the end and has to restart all over again.

Or at least, that's what he tells himself is the cause for his repeated failures.

Solomon is hardly dumb—he's well aware that the reason for his utter inability to focus right now is caused solely and explicitly by you, and that this would not be happening if he weren't worried for your whereabouts.

But at the same time, there's nothing he can do about the fact that you're already gone, or the fact that he just messed up again on this seal.

A frustrated groan leaves Solomon's lips, inwardly cursing himself for driving you from the room.

After all, he really needs to get this assignment done.

Then again, it's not like he would be doing much of a better job if you were still here.

The sorcerer can never find himself fully able to focus around you, eyes always drawn upward to study you. It feels like if he casts his gaze away for too long, he'll miss something—the way your eyes light up every time you understand a concept, the way your eyebrows furrow every time you don't. It's the little things he tries to pay attention to: how you silently nod your head at the end of every sentence you read to the way you aimlessly fumble with your blanket whenever an assignment bores you.

Solomon is positive that he's successfully picked up on every one of your little quirks, by now. At a single glance, he can tell what subject you're studying by the way you're sprawled out over your bed, and if he looks a little longer, he might even be able to tell how good a mood you're in based on the way you tap your pen against your notebook. Give him enough time, and he's even picked apart how the way you kick your feet in the air relates to how nervous you are for an upcoming quiz.

Yeah, Solomon really hasn't been doing too well in his school, with how much he's been focusing on you.

Of course, you don't notice it at all. No, Solomon cast a spell long ago which makes it look like he's studying diligently even as he gazes absentmindedly at the way you run a hand through your hair when you're tired, making it incredibly easy for him to catch all the little glances you've been giving him these past few weeks.

Does he feel guilty for watching you watch him?

Absolutely.

Does he think about removing the spell?

All the time.

Does that mean he will change anything?

Most definitely not.

The look of shock on your face every time he casually "catches" you staring at him is too attractive for him to stop, especially since the immediate state of fluster it induces is so amusing to watch.

But that doesn't stop him from regretting calling you out just now, because while he's pretty sure you know your way around the campus, he's also well-aware that whenever your head is in a jumble, you lose all sense of awareness.

I'll wait, he decides, rapping his pencil against the outline of the sketch he's working on, reaching for a ruler. I need to finish this assignment, anyway.

But then ten minutes turns into twenty, and by the time Solomon is done with his assignment, the hour is over, signaled by the four loud rings from the grandfather clock on the ground floor.

The mage glances at your empty bed, set just six feet across from his, and he frowns.

I'll wait a little longer.

But one hour stretches into two, and two stretches into three, and nearly four hours have passed by the time the sun sets, and Solomon is pacing back and forth in the dorm, glancing at the door every time he turns, in hopes that you'll walk through it.

Fucking hell, he thinks to himself, grabbing his academy jacket as he flips his book closed and shoves it onto his desk.

He isn't going to torture himself any longer like this.

Hell, he'll confess if that's what it takes to bring you back, because right now, he's going crazy cooped up in this room and there's only one thing that's going to calm him down.

Shoving his keys into his pocket, he yanks the door open, all final hopes of you standing on the other sides crushed when he sees the almost-empty hall, and the questioning eyes of students wondering why he's heading out when it's so close to curfew.

He huffs in exasperation, slamming the door shut as he walks out, long legs carrying him in the direction of where he suspects you got lost.

He's really fallen for such a troublesome person.

Then again, Solomon adores even that part of you.

***

You've never been so relieved to see a clump of white hair.

Or, well, maybe you have—you know, given that Mammon has saved you more than a few times from Lucifer's wrath—but you've never been so relieved in the human world to see a familiar, fluffy clump of white hair.

"Solomon!" You exclaim the moment you set your eyes on the mage, sprinting forward to capture him in a tight hug. He stiffens at the contact, and you inwardly note that this is probably the closest you've ever physically been to him, but you don't care. Maybe it's the instincts that were drilled into you after being surrounded by demons for a whole year, but you had seriously begun to think that you would die out here.

"How on earth did you get here?" Solomon asks incredulously, gazing at your surroundings.

"I, um." You suddenly feel embarrassed. "I got lost, and then I sort of just picked a direction and walked."

"You..." Solomon pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation, unable to even bring himself to repeat your words back to you. "You do realize that that's the worst possible thing you could have done, right?" The mage shoots a frown your way. "Do you even know how far off-campus we are right now?"

You ignore his words off with a smile, following him gleefully as he shakes his head in disapproval. "Then isn't it wonderful that I had you to come find me?"

You laugh, the sound filling the otherwise empty night, missing the way Solomon fights off an instinctive smile at the sound.

"If you turn tail and run away every single time I catch you staring at me, we're going to have an issue," The sorcerer mutters, more under his breath than to you. You ignore his words, neither wanting to nor knowing how to respond. "Your crush on me is only going to bring more trouble to us, if things continue on like this."

And that gets to you.

(And though you don't know it, the sorcerer is equally mortified by his statement. He certainly hadn't wanted to confront you like that.)

"You know?!" You exclaim, eyes round in horror. You always knew that he must have had his own suspicions, but for him to just come out and say it? You stare at the man with a mouth agape, raw embarrassment warming your cheeks for the second time today.

"Ah, yes," Solomon comments lamely, wincing when he hears how his words must sound. "I mean, ahem, I would actually, erm, consider myself, goodness look at that goose, to harbor similar sentiments.

"You...what?" You ask suspiciously, partially confident that Solomon just confessed but at the same time confused whether his words mean what you think they do. "You like me?" You ask hesitantly, watching the mage's expressions carefully.

"'Like' is such a strange word," Solomon begins. "One might consider it to be an expression of indifference, whereas another would—"

You cut the mage off with a sharp elbow to the stomach and a pointed glare, warning him to stop being around the bush.

"Fine," He mutters, shooting you a sulky glare. "Yes. I like you, okay? Are you happy now?"

A warm smile blooms on your face as you hear the sorcerer say those words, savoring the beautiful pink that swells on his usually-pale cheeks as he averts his eyes and crosses his arms.

"Yes, that does make me happy," You muse, grinning. "For how long?" You probably didn't have to ask that question—but Solomon's evident embarrassment makes it impossible not to milk this situation for all it's worth.

"Since...the Devildom," He mutters, the pink on his cheeks surging with even more prominence.

You blink at that.

The Devildom?

That's even longer than you've liked him!

"Wow," You confess, eyes slightly round in wonder. "I...I had no idea, this whole time."

"Yeah, I...kind of made sure of that."

"What do you mean?" You pause in your walk to glance at the man standing next to you. "How'd you stop me from figuring it out?"

"I, uh," Solomon scratches the back of his neck, glancing away sheepishly. "I may have used magic."

Wow.

Well, that—

Yeah, that was entirely expected.

A huff leaves your throat, and you cross your arms dramatically as you saunter ahead of Solomon, not bothering to acknowledge the fact that Asmo once warned you that, if Solomon ever started liking you, this was exactly the sort of thing he would do.

You pause, glancing right and then left as you approach a crossing, completely unsure of which way to go but unwilling to reduce yourself to asking the sorcerer from help. Not when you can feel the waves of apology radiating off him.

"Are you mad?" He asks when you stop, and the hesitant inflection of his voice only makes you fall for him more because of how annoyingly adorable you find it.

"Maybe," You respond, deciding to keep him in suspense. "But you can make it up to me."

Before Solomon can ask how, you walk in front of him and turn around such that you're facing him, one arm on your hip as you send a confident smirk.

"Given that we both like each other, see..." You trail off, standing in front of him with a devilish grin on your face as you wait for him to piece together what you're hinting at.

You see his eyes widen, the moment of realization dawning in his eyes as he understands what you're asking him to do.

Solomon doesn't hesitate much after that. He barely spends a single moment preparing himself, and then one hand is reaching for your cheek while his lips pull closer, and you savor the sight of his eyes closing as he presses his lips to yours, and then your own eyes are closed, basking in the feeling of warmth as you grin and lean into the kiss, lifting your own arms to his neck, looping them around to play with his hair the way you've thought about so many times.

Something about the situation is undeniably blissful, undeniably comfortable, and undeniably right as you both kiss, and the very notion that you could have ever been so hesitant about doing this makes you both laugh, the two of you smiling and giggling into the kiss like fools.

You lean back slightly, pulling away to beam at the sorcerer with a proud smile, but Solomon chases your lips, dipping his head forward and halting you from going further back by snaking a hand around your waist. Not at all minding this development, you grin as he turns the kiss passionate, slipping his tongue through your lips with a determined force you can't help but be turned on by, and then the lightheartedness of the previous moment is replaced by a sudden passion for more of this, more of the feeling of Solomon's mouth against yours, more of him.

You bring your hands to his chest, pushing him backward and onto a bench that could not be more conveniently placed as you press his body down onto it, and he doesn't bother commenting on how you're wrinkling his shirt when you grab fistfuls of it and straddle his lap. Or maybe he does try, but you'll never find out, because seconds later your lips are back to being pressed against his and everything else in the world disappears.

"Fuck," Solomon whispers, gasping when you part for air, his fingers just about to slip under your shirt as he caresses your waist.

"Yeah," You respond, knowing exactly what he's talking about. When your eyes dart from his flushed neck to his eyes, the look he gives you is nothing short of sinful.

Seconds later, the two of you are kissing again—because really, Solomon can't look at you like that and not expect you to immediately throw yourself at him—and his fingers really do squirm their way underneath your shirt, the feeling of his touch almost electric as his fingers grip your waist firmly.

And then it really doesn't matter that you're both still in public, that you're straddling Solomon on a public bench and that it's almost well curfew, because holy fuck you've both wanted to do this for way longer than anyone should have to wait, and now that you've started, nothing will pull you apart.

Bonus:

From his lovely little cloud in the heavens, Simeon cheers, a warm smile on his face as he watches his two favorite humans give in to the attraction that has always been painfully obvious to him.

He hums peacefully, internally wondering how he'll go about collecting his money from Lucifer, now that he's won their bet about how long it would take for the two of you to grow intimate—but his bliss is short-lived as he watches you tug Solomon's tie off, a light gasp leaving both his and Solomon's lips, though for two very different reasons.

"No!" Simeon cries, gasping dramatically with a hand over his chest as he realizes what is happening. "You're in public! In public!"

He moans in distress, falling to his knees as he sends a prayer up to Father for you both, his horror widening as he catches sight of buttons popping off your shirt as Solomon slips his hands underneath it, both of you starved and desperate for more contact than your clothes can provide.

"Little lambs!" He wails in horror, and all the other angels stop what they're doing for a moment to wonder what has their Simeon in such a twist, nearly every angel in the heavens listening to the sound of his utterly defeated whimpers that follow as he crawls back into bed, trying his best to forget the unholy sight that now plagues his mind.

"Forgive me, Father," He murmurs, fingers darting from his forehead to his chest, then right and left. But then, he thinks of a better prayer: "Forgive them."

Bonus bonus:

Centuries later, Simeon will reluctantly (and drunkenly) recount this tale to Asmodeus, who will immediately cheer in support. The fifth-born will claim to have always sensed the unspoken sexual tension between the two of you, and has always been an ardent supporter of "giving in to temptation," regardless of how public one's surroundings may be. After hearing Simeon's story, he'll order another round of drinks for the bar, paying for it himself in honor of everyone's two favorite humans, the demon cheering both your names loudly and downing a shot before promptly passing out on Simeon's lap.

MASTERLIST

Word count: 4.3k

Notes: Fun fact: originally, the academy that mc and solomon are at was supposed to be RAS - the royal academy of Solomon - just like RAD, but solomon was the headmaster (and there was a corresponding RAM run by Michael in the Celestial Realm) :) Not fun fact: I’m also working on a diavolo fic right now and it feels like every word is a breath of air being ripped from my already asphyxiated lungs :)

Comment & Like

Thank you for reading <3

I do not own the rights to Obey Me! or any of the characters within it.

324 notes · View notes

dokeblr · 4 years

Text

The Shadow That Binds Us

Character/Pairing: Tokoyami x Reader

Summary/Prompt: Everyone's shadow is the shape of their soulmate, yours has a mind of its own.

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Attempted kidnapping.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The looks were something you had begrudgingly gotten used to over the years. Growing up wasn’t easy, and there was some simmering resentment under the surface towards your situation, but you soon realised the trade-off was worth it.

Everyone had a shadow that didn’t match them, some were taller, wider, furrier. They walked behind, copied your every movement, shook with laughter when you did, shoulders sagging with your burdens. Those shadows were a dark reflection of your soulmate.

Your shadow had an attitude.

Most of the time it was bird shaped, shadowing you as normal.

On rarer occasions, it opened a pair of glowing golden eyes and moved about on its own, whining about the light or boasting about daring and radical fights it had allegedly been in.

It called itself Dark Shadow.

It drew attention when it came out to play, sometimes you’ll be in one room and find your shadow in the kitchen raiding your cupboards the next.

“Why does all your food suck?”

“Why are you in my kitchen?!”

It must have been hard for your parents, the trouble it caused. From your memories alone you can remember rare days where the neighbourhood kids would let you join in with their childish games of tag, only to run away screaming when your shadow got a little too excited and starting throwing kids in the air with screams of menacing excitement.

The kids never asked you to join again, neither did anyone else.

Solitude seemed to suit you, though. Staying in your room with curtains drawn, bed littered in books about cryptid hunting, alien sightings and general cryptozoological themes. Dark Shadow hung around a lot more frequently in those days. Those were your fondest childhood memories, a menacing companion to chase the negative thoughts away.

On one of those nights, flicking through the books as your candle-lit room and drawn curtains closed you off to the outside world, Dark Shadow popped up over your shoulder.

“You’ve read this one already, I’m bored!” The shadows voice was whiny, filled with an almost childish sense of brattiness.

“Then amuse yourself, I’m not.” Patience was a virtue you were forced to learn in order to cope with sharing an existence with the bird like creature, his immature demands not being all too uncommon.

Dark Shadow huffed, then with a rush of air across your shoulder he went to fumbling with your shelves and trinkets, some pencils cluttering off and ending up on the floor, but you resigned yourself to a sigh and made a mental note to fix it all later.

Not even 10 minutes had gone by before the book was being tugged out your grasp.

“Come on! Let’s go outside or something, your room is boring!”

Your eyes closed for a few moments whilst you gathered some composure, mentally debating whether or not to give in while Dark Shadow threw whines of ‘Come on!’ and ‘Let’s go!’ at you in the background.

“Alright.” You huffed softly, throwing on a large, thick wool coat in anticipation for the bitter night laying outside of your door. “Come on, try and stay under my coat please.”

Going out with a large, wiggly, living shadow was hard enough in the day when it seemed like the entire population was watching yo. Night-time, however, was a whole other game.

It made some sort of sense, that a creature of the shadows would become livelier and more untameable during the night. It was in its element, could swoop up above buildings and dive in between alleyways. Dark Shadow was less discernible during the night, but most of the people at risk of seeing him were usually the last people you’d want to capture the attention of.

Your boots made dull thuds on the pavement as you walked down an empty street, orange tinted lights beaming off the stray litter as you turned down a street filled with derelict apartments, sharp graffiti jutting out on most surfaces.

Dark Shadow was a little way off from you, further down the street and around the corner of an alleyway hissing at a cat, clattering against bins.

All your attention was on shushing Dark Shadow as you made your way further into the street, leaving you defenceless when an arm snapped itself around your throat and raised a sharp silver glint to your face.

“No sudden movements doll, keep your mouth shut and don’t struggle.” A retched smell was laced into the voice wafting into your ear like a plume of smoke, and up through your nostrils.

You had no intention of listening to him, not intending to go easy and you started struggling against his arm. It made no difference, as every jerk of your leg and tug from your arm was getting weaker and weaker.

Tingles were shooting through your nerves and your veins felt like they were being filled with liquid, your body suddenly felt weighted. You were becoming tired quickly, realising too late that you were under the influence of something.

A strangled cry managed to escape your tightening throat while your other limbs were starting to fail you, but as your eye lids grew heavy you looked ahead to find no one, not even a dark, shadowy trail leading to the alley.

You were alone, Dark Shadow was gone.

The despair wallowed deep in your gut, but you wouldn’t stop trying, buying yourself time in case someone, anyone, would turn a corner and help. Until a hero swooped from the rooftops and apprehended the disgusting villain that couldn’t even show you his face.

The resolve didn’t last long, as he was soon pulling you backwards, stealing you away. You were becoming drowsy, eyes drifting shut, your vision becoming choppy.

Dragged down the street, blink. Being hauled over a shoulder, blink. Chucked in a dusty van, blink.

The light was fading, the orange glow narrowing as the doors were being shut until suddenly the roof was dented, caving towards you and rocking back and forth.

It was a few moments before you realised the air was clearer, no longer smelling as putrid as it had moments before.

There was a ruckus, muffled yelling and discourse that your senses were struggling to adjust to. Blood was rushing back through your limbs, so much happening at once was disorientating you, you barely managed to drag yourself against the wall of the stale van.

You were too focused on gulping down air and trying to regain consciousness in your limbs to notice the doors opening fully until two sharp eyes filled with gold and surrounded by shifting shades of black and purples thrusted itself into your face.

“Hey, I’m back! Did you see me take down that loser? Practically did it by myself.”

Oblivious to your state of trauma, Dark Shadow was all boasts, waving about and rambling about his skills.

“Dark Shadow, that’s enough.”

You were lucid enough to realise that wasn’t the voice of the bird like creature, nor the man who had attempted to kidnap you. It was deep, blunt and resigned with an air of nobility.

The voice had come from just behind the door, and as you warily glanced towards it, you realised the shadowy trail that normally extended from yourself was instead leading outside of the van.

On shaky limbs you stood yourself up, still resting most of your weight onto the wall, and limped to opening. Your legs, still feeling full of static, gave out, sending your falling towards grey tarmac.

The impact was softer than you expected, still managing to wind you. Your body shifted, and muscled arms came around your torso to hold you securely.

With your vision still blurred, all you could make out was a dark, jagged figure looming above you.

“Dark Shadow?” Your voice was barely a raspy whisper, chest still heaving.

“My name is Tokoyami, Dark Shadow called me here to help with someone in need. I believe we are soulmates.”

Groans were escaping you while your brain whirled to life, attempting to process what you’d heard. Your body still hadn’t caught up, traces of the villain’s quirk still lingering behind your heavy eyelines.

“Soulmates?”

“Yes, I believe so. I had often wondered where Dark Shadow would disappear to, and whom the young lady that would take his place was.” A dark cloak was pulled over you, a hand threading through your hair and keeping your head safely held as you vaguely realised your change in surrounds.

“Rest easy now. You are safe now, dear.”

Safe was how you felt. With the warm and broad hand running through your scalp, you leaned into the body of your hero, your soulmate, and gave into the lulling call of unconsciousness.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ »»————-　♡　————-««

Notes: I cannot believe I got the one prompt about shadows for Tokoyami, what are the chances ahhhh!! I’m not extremely familiar with his character so sorry if this some OOC, especially with the dear petname (I spent a while contemplating add that but caved anyway). Hope you enjoy!

#tokoyami x reader #tokoyami fumikage #tokoyami fumikage x reader #mha x reader #my hero academia #mha #bnha #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia #soulmate event #soulmate au #mha soulmate

253 notes · View notes

colorfullfalls · 4 years

Text

Saddle up

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Being an old member of Agent Coulson’s team meant that you knew all too well about the wanted man, Grant Ward. Ward thinks you are the link to reaching Daisy, and he takes you as a hostage. He completely missed out on the information concerning a certain Winter Soldier that is very much in love with you. Bucky will find you.

Coulson’ s team saved you and your best friend, Skye. Two girls that stuck together after they were too old to be in fostercare anymore. Coulson found you guys and gave you a home. A purpose. An actual life. S.H.I.E.L.D came with it’s ups and downs, the first world shattering event for you was the betrayal of Grant Ward.

He infiltrated the team so easily. He was a protective team mate, or so you thought. He truly made you feel like you were family. You foolishly grew to love him, just as you did with the other members. Finding out that he was HYDRA was one of the worst days of your life. Skye crying frantically was in imagine forever burned within your memory.

At the time she weak and unable to do much to fight him. Skye went through terrigenesis, found her true identity-now going by her birth name of Daisy Johnson- and became the strongest hero you knew. Quake was now a well known hero that even saved the Avenger’s ass more than once.

The team working with the Avengers caused your connection with Bucky Barnes to bloom. He was enamored with your intelligence and humility. You were refreshing compared to the intense heroes he was always surrounded with. Sooner than anyone expected, you two were in a fully committed relationship. At first your team was weary of him, him being the most terrifying assassin. But once they saw him look at you, there was no doubt that he was smitten.

Bucky and you went off the grid for a bit of a vacation. The team had been so busy lately that he only really saw you at night or if he visited the lab. He complained about it to Coulson and sure enough you had a week off. Bucky was stoked about getting you to himself.

A cabin in the middle of nowhere sat close to a small lake. A red canoe rested against the worn dock, the stain chipping terribly. You smiled at the sight of Bucky starting a fire- upon your request. Smores sounded irresistible and since you were irresistible to him, he made quick work to create roaring flames.

“Buck. I think we forgot the chocolate.” You sadly pointed out. He walked over and gently grabbed the bag from you to search. No luck, he gave you a sympathetic smile that shifted into a real smile when he saw your pout.

“Seems so. Dammit, the fire is going too.”

Flames licked the wood, enveloping it to create a barrier of heat. From where you were standing you could feel the heat radiating, or maybe that feeling was because Bucky was standing so close to you, his flesh arm brushing against yours.

“No biggie. I’ll go get some and you keep that fire going, mister.” You said, grabbing your bag and keys.

His metal hand grabbed your waist, pulling you close to press a chaste kiss to your lips. His forehead rested against yours for a second before he pulled away and kissed above your left eyebrow. Butterflies swam in your stomach at how absolutely gentle he was. The badass winter soldier was the softest teddy bear around you. It was almost hard to believe that he could kill a man with a knife in one hundred different ways.

“Be safe.” He mumbled against your skin.

You scoffed, pushing away, “Buck, I don’t need to be. Look how swole I got!” You flexed your arms and pointed at the small amount of muscle you gained from Bucky dragging you to the gym three times a week.

A ripple of laughter barked from him as he grabbed a large piece of wood and set it on the fire. His blue eyes shimmered from the flames.

“Okay, tough guy- seriously though. Be cautious. You never know what the world will throw your way.” He warned.

He was right. Being in S.H.I.E.L.D. proved that danger was around every corner. Nightmares of little kids were very much real and a lot of horror manifested in the world. You tried your best to fight evil with science but when it came to physically warding it off, you were sort of lost.

Bucky worried about your safety at all times. Being a scientist with the expertise of human anatomy meant that HYDRA would be interested. The current goal was to create super soldiers from scratch and he had a feeling that they knew about your set of skills. He would not let you get caught by them. His eyes conveyed how intense he was about you returning unharmed.

“Aye aye Sergeant Barnes. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Chocolate secured, you walked around the end of the store to purchase it. In the corner of your eye you saw someone behind you in the distance but when you turned no one was there. This occurred a few times before you got out of the store. Starting to grow paranoid you briskly walked to your car.

As you were about to open the door you were pushed harshly so that your face smacked off the car. Your arms were quickly restrained and a hand snuck around to clamp your mouth shut. Your heart beat out of your chest as you realized what was going on. You were caught by HYDRA and you were going to die or be used as bait to lure in Bucky.

“Don’t scream and I’ll take my hand away.”

Blood drained out of your face as you recognized the voice. Fucking Grand Ward found you.

You tried to scream but Ward managed to haul your body effortlessly onto the backseat of his car without anyone noticing. Your muffled cries for help angered him as he tied your hands and feet together with rope. He slammed the door shut and climbed into the driver seat. You regretted asking Bucky to make a fire now. You could’ve made out in the nice cabin instead but you buttered him up to make a fire. You decided that the chocolate wasn’t worth it and that s’mores weren’t that great.

Your eyes watched out the window as he drove, trying to memorize the area you could see from laying down so that if you possibly escaped you would have an idea where to go. Ward was sort of dumb for not blind folding you, you thought as he pulled into long lane that held a large house.

He got out of the car and man handled you inside. You grew nervous as you saw about twenty hydra agents spread through out the house. He kicked open the basement door and sat you down at a table. The stone walls covered with cobwebs made you shiver. Clearly this wasn’t as welcoming as the cute cabin you should’ve already been back to.

“You’re a dick.” You threw out.

He rolled his eyes, “You’re insufferable.”

You guffawed loudly as your hands fought to get out of the rope, “You’re a killer! How did you even find me?”

He grabbed a nearby chair and sat in it nonchalantly as if he hadn’t kidnapped a rival agent, “I didn’t plan to, I happened to be in the right place at the right time. Better take an opportunity when it presents itself.”

His stupid smug voice made your insides burn with hate. A knife wedged between his eyes danced around your mind. Oh boy did you wish that you had Daisy’s powers in that moment. You would quake him until his insides turned to jelly.

“No, I think you’re a stalker.”

He clicked his tongue off the roof of his mouth, “I don’t care what you think, I care about what you know. Where is Daisy?”

Laughter bubbled in your throat, ripping out in a furious wave of sound. You carried on until tears were running down your face. Granted, your situation was not funny but you were nervous and him thinking Daisy wouldn’t kill him really humored you.

“Stop laughing and tell me.” He gritted out.

“Grant Ward, you’re a demon on this earth, but never before did I think you were this dumb! I mean come on man, as if Daisy wouldn’t end your life the second she saw you? Lincoln died to kill you and Hive, but you somehow lived and made your way back here- surviving like a parasite. She will never forgive you, especially not after that.”

He punched you as soon as you finished your words, landing a blow to mostly your nose and mouth. You blinked in surprise as he drew his fist back. Grant grimaced as he noticed your busted lip. Once again his anger got ahold of him. Daisy hating him exposed his true monster because he loved her. As fucked up as it was he was still in love with her even though she rather him be dead. And the truth of that hurt. Daisy would really hate him for harming you.

“I didn’t-“

“Fuck you.” You spat, glaring at him with pure resentment, “It is not my fault that you messed up your life so bad, not my fault you ruined your friendships. For god sake, you plunged Fitzsimmons into the depths of the ocean without batting an eye. Our forgiveness is not in your future.”

“I’m not asking for your forgiveness.”

Your tongue swiped against your bottom lip that had a small amount of blood on it. Metallic tasting liquid invaded your taste buds, making you wince.

“You’re asking for hers. Tough luck, killer, you won’t get it!”

He slammed his fist against the table causing your body to flinch at the bang. Your face pulsed in pain remember the punch delivered moments ago. You were trying to be strong but you were scared. Grant Ward was a murderer and he had you locked up in a basement in the middle of nowhere. You were extremely helpless and vulnerable in your chair due to being tied up. You wished more than anything for Bucky to kick that door down and save you.

Bucky waited thirty minutes before jumping in his vehicle and making a beeline for the store you two had visited earlier. Getting chocolate would not take that long and his gut knew something was wrong. He pulled in and saw your car in the lot. He lunged out of his and ran over to yours. His blue eyes became darker as he noticed two hand marks and a smudged face mark that wasn’t there before you left. Someone harmed you.

Bucky looked around the lot for any suspicious vehicles but nothing looked out of the ordinary. His heart was hammering furiously in his chest at the idea of someone daring to lay their filthy hands on you. Bucky punched the pole beside him, denting it considerably.

“Fuck!”

Grant Ward stared at you as you attempted for the tenth time to get the ropes off of you. You didn’t even have a plan for if you got them off, but that was the first step. He rolled his eyes at your actions.

“Will it take torture for you to speak up? Hmm? Maybe a knife in your thigh? Another punch? I am tired of playing nice here.”

You ignored his words, only trying to loosen the ties around you even more. Bucky would’ve already been out of this chair and had killed Ward if he had been where you were. Unfortunately, you were not a trained assassin and you were very worried how this day would end. Bucky had to have known you were taken and you knew he was looking for you. And when he found Ward, all hell would break loose.

“You’re not going to get those off. Stop fussing, you’re annoying me.”

“I don’t care what annoys you,” you seethed, “Let me go! I’m not telling you anything about Daisy so keeping me is useless. It’s signing your death warrant, really.”

He hummed in a condensing manner, “My death warrant? I’m alive for a reason, princess. I’m better at killing than my opponents.”

The condescending pet name irritated you to no end. Princess was a generalization of a snobby girl who got whatever she wanted. You were a educated woman who knew worlds more intellectual information than the man in front of you.

You dryly laughed, “Not more skilled than the Winter Soldier and when he gets here, you better saddle up because he will beat the ever loving shit out of you.”

Ward nodded in amusement, “S.H.I.E.L.D keeps a tight rope on him- I’m sure. Coulson doesn’t have the authority to send him out. Daisy is the rescue team and we both know that.”

You felt paranoid that he knew so much about your team, that he knew Daisy was the key factor in saving you guys and the world again and again. Had he been keeping tabs on her? It made your skin crawl to think that he watched her every move. What all did he know? Apparently not enough to know that you were the Winter Soldier’s darling. Grant Ward was doomed the second Bucky walked in the door, you decided.

Ward was one of the best agents after Natasha and he skillfully took down so many people. But Bucky was so far above him. Not only in combat skills but your boyfriend was a freaking super solider that had serum that granted him strength and reflexes no one could fathom.

“You idiot, I’m his girlfriend!”

Ward shifted in his seat at your reveal. He studied your face to see if you were bluffing or not. By the look on his face a few moments later he could tell that he realized it was true. He clenched his eyes shut in frustration.

“You were here with him, weren’t you?” He asked.

You grinned cheekily, “Bullseye!”

Bucky paced back and forth in front of your car before a black SUV pulled in front of him. Out jumped Daisy Johnson, fully suited up. She hugged him quickly before pulling away.

“She came here to get chocolate and she never came back! I didn’t know what else to do.” He rambled.

She calmly grabbed his arm for him to look at her, “We got intell on a house close to here that HYDRA agents are hiding at. Word has it that Grant Ward is there too.”

Bucky squinted his eyes, “Grant Ward? I thought he died?”

“Apparently not. That parasite just can’t stay dead. She’s there, I know it.”

Bucky grit his teeth. HYDRA would crumble to the ground if one hair on your head was damaged. He promised himself to kill each and every one of those bastards that dared to take his girl. Bucky knew of Grant Ward and the emotional toll that the man’s betrayal had on you.

His first clenched as the metal whirled in his arm. Anger engulfed him to the point that he punched the same pole again. The large pole crashed to the ground, catching attention of the fellow shoppers around them. People ignored it because they weren’t about to get in the way of an angry man strong enough to do something like that.

Daisy looked at the pole before looking back at Bucky, “I’m sure they can deal with that. We gotta go.”

Ward disappeared upstairs leaving you to patiently wait until Bucky arrived. A part of you was worried for him. There were twenty agents here plus a maniac killer who May even used to struggle to defeat. Sure, he was the Winter Soldier but that didn’t mean he wasn’t human. A shot to the wrong place and he could be dead within seconds.

You also had a feeling that they would try to summon the Soldat and then everyone here would be screwed.

A man slipped quietly through the door and your breath caught in your throat. He had a sinister smile as he crossed the room to duck down in front of you.

One time Bucky explained that HYDRA agents weren’t that well trained if they were basic agents. The organization spent most of its dedication to training about ten top skilled people to get the job done. The man in front of you probably wasn’t one of the top ten, but he still posed a threat.

“You’re prettier than we assumed. When Ward told us that the Winter Soldier would be here any second to rescue you, we assumed he was pussy wipped.” He grabbed a knife off the table and twirled it between his fingers.

“Charming” you sarcastically noted.

“But looking at you now, I get it.”

You shifted yourself to lean away from him, “Get what?”

His hand roughly grabbed your jaw and turned your head to look at him. His green eyes were not kind like Bucky’s blue eyes. Your boyfriends gorgeous blue eyes could stop a war before it even started. Those blue eyes were home.

“You’re ethereal, babe.”

A loud shot rang in your ears as blood sprayed your face. You let out a blood curdling scream as his body fell on you. Grant Ward stalked over as he put his gun back in his holster. He shoved the body off as if it was a dead pesky fly.

Your adrenaline was going through the roof as you realized that a man was shot and killed on top of you. His warm blood clung to the soft skin, tainting it in the most sinful way. Tears welled up as you looked at the murder in front of you.

How could someone be so utterly cruel? So vile that the devil himself would turn away at his acts. Bruised heart not caring about the lives of other human beings. His face showed no remorse. It never did unless Daisy was involved.

“What the hell.” You whispered, gazing at him.

“Today isn’t the day to test the winter soldiers rage when he finds out one of my agents sexually assaulted you. Because that’s what he was going to do.”

Vomit crawled up the back of your throat at the idea of the man touching you like that. You shoved it back down with a gulp. Bucky hurry up, you internally pleaded. Wrapped in his thick arms always made you feel safe and right now that’s all you wanted.

Lights in the room shook, an earthquake force ripping through the room. Ward’s eyes got wide as he realized your rescue team was here. Not only did Bucky find you, but so did Daisy.

He grabbed your body and pulled your back to his chest, barrel of his gun kissing your temple wickedly. Screams and cries sounded off like a war zone. And a war zone it was. Bucky would kill everyone here, even if Daisy didnt approve of it. He didn’t care to hold back his impending wrath.

Daisy quakes three agents back so that they slammed against the wall, knocked unconscious. She was really trying to deter Bucky from killing them all but he knew how protective he could get. And how revenge was wrapping itself around his very bones.

“I didn’t want to kill you but it looks like you’re my bargaining chip, y/n.”

You whimpered at the implication of him using your body to get Daisy and Bucky not to kill him. You heard heavy footsteps clambering down the stairs and you held your breath.

Mistaking the power of Daisy Johnson was the dumbest thing Ward could have done. She quaked the door until it flew against the wall, broken off of its hinges. Bucky raced into the room, large gun sweeping the room to look for you. You had to be here. He heard a whimper and his eyes set on the nightmare before him.

You, pressed up against Grant Ward with a fucking barrel to your head. Crippling fear took over for a second. You were so vulnerable unlike him and that shot would surely kill you. His darling’a life was threatened and that alert his senses into kill mode.

Daisy held her hand out for Bucky to stop as she slowly walked closer to you two.

“Let her go, you sick son a bitch. You wanted me and here I am.” Venom seeped out of her voice.

Ward glanced at the super soldier who would gut him as soon as he let you go. He regretted his decision to take you. He was going to die today. “I didn’t want it to go like this.” He pulled your closer, the metal of the gun digging painfully into your skin.

Your eyes connected with Bucky’s and you conveyed all of your love for him in one look. Relief washed through your veins like a river being undammed just by knowing he was in the same room as you. No one could protect you like he could, love you like he could. He was it for you and you wanted to be in his arms instead of where you were.

Bucky slowly grabbed his beloved knife, twirling it in between his metal fingers. Ward was too distracted by Daisy to notice his movements. The knife launched out of Bucky’s hands and right into the hand that Ward was holding the stupid fucking gun with.

Ward yelped and let go enough that you ran out of his arms and behind Daisy. Bucky made sure you were safe before charging. His body threw Ward’s to the ground, going in to land a punch. Ward dodged his attempt and rolled to the side, pulling the knife out of his hand.

Ward thrust the knife towards Bucky’s body but Bucky grabbed his wrist and twisted hard, breaking it. Ward grunted out in pain. Bucky grabbed the knife and stabbed his opponent in the side. Flashes of you with a gun to your head spurred him on to stab him again and again and again.

Ward was gasping for breath when Bucky heard a gun shot. You touched your shoulder, wincing in pain as a straggling agent shot again, this time the bullet embedding itself in your leg. You gasped as you hunched down to hold your leg in pain.

Daisy quaked the agent and he fell unconscious.

Bucky left his knife in Ward’s dead body as he crossed the ground and had you in his arms within seconds. His lips attached itself to your temple, holding you impossibly close to him. Ignoring the pain was easy when such a handsome man was grasping onto you like his life depended on it.

“You’re safe now. We gotta get you outta here doll.” He murmured against your skin as he hoisted you up in his arms.

“Simmons is waiting for us at the compound. She can take care of her.” Daisy spoke, bending down to grab the knife out of Ward’s body. She shook her head before leading the way out of the building.

Bodies littered the floor, deep red stains soaking into the carpet. Necks were broken, arms dislocated, faces bloody. Your hand ghosted you’re cheek, knowing that blood of a man laid on you. Saying you weren’t a bit traumatized would be a lie. Especially when you looked at the dead agents sprawled out in different areas of the house.

Bucky gripped you close to his body on the car ride back to the cabin. Daisy drove silently, well aware that you needed a moment. His nose nuzzled into your neck, scenting you like a damn wolf. You were irrecoverably his and he would never let anything bad happen to you again. He had to calm his mind down because all he could see was you with that gun to your head. A weapon that could’ve easily ended your life and his in return.

Fitzsimmons greeted you with warm smiles containing roof level high amounts of love. They were so relived to see you in one piece. The couple knew all too well of how brutal Grant Ward could be. Bucky stood close by as Simmons withdrew the bullets. You clenched your teeth in pain as they were pulled out. Bucky’s hand reached out and intertwined your fingers and she stitched you up. Daisy walked in to see how you were doing. The bus kids were once again untied, plus Bucky Barnes.

“So he’s dead this time? Like really dead? Dead dead..” Fitz asked.

“As hard as it is to believe, yes.” Daisy retorted, handing Fitz a pop as she sat down by him on the stool, “That sicko is gone for good. Bucky stabbed him too many times to count.”

Bucky blushed slightly, shifting his hand slightly against yours as all of your team mates looked at him like the hero he was.

“Thank heavens,” Simmons mumbled, working her nimble fingers diligently against your warm skin. You felt Bucky’s hand squeeze a bit for reassurance. You smiled gratefully up at him.

“Y/n isn’t this your first time getting shot?” Fitz asked, slurping his drink.

“Uh huh, doesn’t feel too great.” Your leg was throbbing by the time Simmons got to work on it. Your pants had to be cut off and you gave a very solemn look at the discarded material lying on the floor. You liked those pants...

“You’ll get used to it.”

You choked out a laugh at the harsh glare Bucky was giving Fitz. You rubbed your thumb against the flesh of his hand to calm him down. Bucky didn’t think you getting harmed was something to joke about. You were uneffected by the jesting, it was how your team worked to deal with all of the tragedy. Bucky was Bucky and he would always be over sensitive about how people spoke to you.

“Ahh, I don’t think so. I’ve been shot many times and it hurts all the same. Ian shooting me in the stomach was the worst.” Daisy added to the conversation.

You shivered as you recalled the time where your best friend was on the brink of death, her body laying limp as Simmons worked over her frail body. You blinked away the memory, focusing on Bucky’s metal hand moving to rest comfortably on your thigh as Simmons finished up your leg.

“That was a bloody horrible time.” Gemma snorted, “Not as horrible as when Fitz unleashed Aida on us all.”

Fitz opened his mouth to protest, “How many times do I have to say I’m sorry about that!”

“Probably for life, you’ll get used to it.” Bucky retorted, “As much as we would love to stay and chat, I think y/n should get some rest. Thank you for the help, Gemma.”

Simmons smiled, “Of course. Anything for her.”

He led you into your shared bathroom and cleaned the blood off of your face, taking the burden of the pain with him, helping you deal with it. You silently watched him as he wrung out the washcloth. You were so enamored that such a strong man was so soft when it came to you. God, you adored him.

Bucky helped you change into clothes that weren’t bloody. Unsurprisingly, he chose to put his red Henley on you. A shirt that you loved seeing on him as much as he loved you in it. The soft cotton swallowed you, encapsulating you in his cologne left over on it. You two crawled under the comforter, his arms holding you to his chest as he laid on his side with you facing him. You were just so pretty, he decided as he bent down to stuff his face in the crook of your neck.

“Comfy?” His deep voice rumbled against the skin of your throat as he peppered a few kisses there, centering himself.

“Around you? Always.” You whispered, his kisses growing wet as he slot his lips lovingly against your skin. You shifted, moving so that his thick thigh was trapped between yours. He hummed in appreciation as he pulled you closer, his hands roaming your body. His metal arm rested on your behind as he ground himself into you, moaning at the feeling. His flesh hand glided across your hip and moved down.

You hissed in pain when his hand pressed down near the bullet wound.

He quickly pulled away, “Shit! Sorry, sorry I wasn’t even thinking about your leg, doll.”

You huffed out a “it’s fine” before moving to just cuddle him, “I think we both got caught up in the moment.”

He gently ran his flesh hand through your hair, “I guess so. I’m just thankful that you’re safe in my arms. Seeing him- with that.... to your.. it broke my heart.”

You situated yourself so that your eyes were level with his, the beautiful blue was swarming with sadness. You smiled sympathetically.

“You saved me, Buck. You took away my biggest nightmare.” You whispered, “you should’ve seen the look on his face when I told him I was your girlfriend.”

The idea of Grant Ward knowing that death was on its way had Bucky feeling like a winner. Ward terrorized your thoughts and knowing he put an end to your fear made him feel high on life. Protecting you was in his nature, and getting rid of Ward was like winning the lottery. Your mind at ease made your boyfriend happy. The idea of you knowing that he will always be there for you made his heart soar. God he wanted you forever.

He grinned, “Bastard had it coming, had the right to be be fucking scared- daring to take away my girl from me.”

His lips pecked yours a few times before his cheek rested comfortably against yours. Your eyes fluttered shut, finally feeling peaceful enough to fall asleep. Peace was always easy to find around him.

Around your Bucky.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #agents of shield imagine #daisy johnson

71 notes · View notes

pilyarquitect · 4 years

Text

War for Genius - 1.- Interest or obsession

Hello everyone!!!! How are all of you handling all this situation? I hope you’re fine, or as fine as you can be. Welp said that, I bring you a new story, actually not a new story but a translated version of my story ‘Guerra de Genios’.

I’m very, very, very grateful to @empro-8 since she helped me editing my translations. Without her, this story would harder to read and some parts probably hard to understand. I’m really blessed for having her help.

That said, I really hope that you’ll enjoy it! Let’s begin.

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

The situation had finally calmed down. What was previously an uproar was now just the whispers of the few people who were still gathered around the building. Everything seemed to be a happy ending now. Well… happy more than less because all the people were safe, but not overly happy because apparently Gizmoduck had died saving all of them. But Mark Beaks was not happy, he was not at all. What had happened there that afternoon was going to ruin much of his and Waddle’s image, and that was somewhat difficult to recover.

After what happened, just a few minutes ago, he’d been viewed as a complete idiot. More than that, he was portrayed as an irresponsible person who puts people in danger rather than helping them. And all this mess caused by a comment that angered him, a simple comment pronounced by someone who had long since stopped admiring him, without Beaks having done anything to deserve such contempt from that person.

Mark's eyes traveled to who was truly responsible of everything that had happened there that afternoon. A young duckling dressed in a red shirt and a cap of the same color (Huey if he remembered well). The boy was there, standing next to one of the journalists who had come to cover his press conference. Mark focused all his attention on him and glared at him, eyes full of fury.

If it hadn’t been for the interference of that kid, his press conference wouldn’t have become a potential massacre. But that wasn’t the case. When he came down with the Waddleduck suit for his daily press conference, there was the duckling, manifesting against Waddleduck. Why? Mark had seen the news the previous day, and he knew that boy had been very excited about the appearance of a new robotic superhero. Why did he change his mind when that superhero started working for Waddle? What was wrong with the fact that even he himself as CEO and principal image of Waddle, had decided to be the new Waddleduck? Seriously, that boy was a real headache.

But there was something else about this young duckling, something that the boy was capable of solving. Something the manufacturer of the Guizmo Suit and even Mark himself had failed to solve! And that something was to give to the suit an organic processor and not an artificial one. An organic processor that wouldn’t explode if overloaded. How could the young boy come up with such a conclusion or even be capable of fixing the suit’s connections to make this a reality in an emergency situation? It was a mystery, but that in turn showed him one thing: That boy was a genius.

Actually... Mark had already realized that this child was... efficient, organized, diligent and a committed worker. Except when he went crazy after appointing the other child as vice president. But pushing that little detail aside, Beaks saw it after having fired them both for the entire TAH-DAH project incident. Yes, after the two brothers left, Mark reviewed the work the two ducklings had done, and realized that the one who wore red had done in a few hours the work that many of his employees did in a few days. He was so good that with just a few hours he knew almost perfectly the internal distribution of his company.

If all his workers were as efficient as that boy, his fortune would probably now be greater than the fortune of Scrooge McDuck himself. Ah, but he’d to realize that when it was too late. He’d spoiled a unique opportunity.

Focusing all his attention on the kid again, an anger started to rise inside of him. He was furious with the boy, but at the same time he was fascinated. Ideas kept coming to his mind of everything that he could achieve if the boy worked for him. He had so many ideas, so many plans… but as much as he wanted the kid being at his service, he knew for sure that that was something that wouldn’t never happen, he’d never accept a job at Waddle again.

Suddenly, Mark saw how the kid looked down to the water and shouted:

“Hey, there’s someone there!”

The police officer who had been circling the area quickly approached to look, and Mark realized that her face paled. She had probably recognized whoever was there, because he almost instantly heard her scream:

“¡Fenton!”

Fenton? Wasn’t that the name of the one in the Gizmo Suit? Did it mean that Gizmoduck had survived? Great, the other top responsible for his downfall.

From where he was sitting, Mark saw how the health aids quickly came to help Fenton. They put him on a stretcher and took him to an ambulance, with the police officer always by his side. As they passed him, Mark found that he was indeed the one wearing Gizmoduck's suit before he appropriated it.

Mark felt his anger grow even more, between Gizmoduck and that little duck dressed in red, they had ruined everything. Also, the Waddle’s CEO still remembered (not with much enthusiasm) that the same duck accused him of kidnapping his great-uncle during the birthday party of even though he didn’t do anything! And on top of that he was expelled from that house in a very bad way, thrown without ceremonies through a window. Not to mention that the kid was able to throw his last replacement mobile phone over the rooftop. How could someone be so cruel? Those were some of the motives that made him feel resentment against the boy. He wanted make the kid pay for all the humiliations he’d suffered every time they crossed paths.

But, how to accomplish such a feat? What was clear to Mark was that he didn’t want the typical revenge of torturing his victim until he begged for his death. No, that wasn’t his style. And he also really wanted to have this kid, and the ideas he could have, at his service. And maybe… maybe there was a way he could get it. He’d try to talk with the boy, hoping if by some miracle he’d accept to work for him, and, if he did, Mark’d have him sign a contract that would link Huey to him for life. But, in case of not accepting, he’d have to resort to... other methods to get that new employee.

Mark knew that he was starting to get obsessed with the boy, it’s the same that happened with Gizmoduck. But to be honest, what he saw the kid to do just a few minutes ago, playing with the cables and connecting them to the first one so that the connections he’d established would perform the function he wanted, it was something really brilliant. And in such a short time and under pressure and risk of his own life? Simply magnificent. He needed this child, at any cost.

Speaking of the young duckling, it seemed that the boy was leaving soon, because he saw him take his mobile phone, probably to give someone the advice that he was coming back home and after that, he started to walk away from the place.

Mark immediately stood up and he turned his back on the boy so that he wouldn’t see him. From his position he was keeping an eye on the red duckling’s movements. And when the duckling passed by him, Waddle’s CEO quickly spun around and grabbed the child by the arm, and dragging him to the other side of the ambulance he had been leaning against. He wants to speak quietly, without anyone seeing and disturbing them.

To feel that he was suddenly grabbed and diverted from his course made Huey let out a frightened Yelp. But Mark ignored it. He was going to talk with him, whether the boy liked it or not.

When he was sure that nobody could see them, he dropped the duckling and turned to face him, saying with false enthusiasm:

“Hi kid!”

The young boy dressed in red frowned and crossed his arms. He asked with an angry voice:

“What do you want now Beaks?”

Okay, this will be complicated. It was clear that the young kid was still furious with him, if he wanted to have the slightest hope of getting the boy work for him, he’d to… lie. Pretend to succeed. Thankfully, he was pretty good on it, first of all, he’d to pretend shame and sorrow for whatever that happened and then he’d have to move on to admire and flatter the boy for how well he’d solved the problem, yes, if he followed that strategy, that should work:

“Well, you see… I… wanted to apologize for all what happened here and also… I wanted to say that you’ve left me very surprised, more than that, impressed about how you’ve got that the GizmoDuck suit user have the completely control of its functions.”

Beaks didn’t know if Huey knew who was the one inside the armor, so he decided to keep it as a secret, just for if the boy preferred to admire a secret identity hero over than know who was hiding under that helmet.

On the other side the Waddle’s CEO checked joyfully that Huey's features softened slightly at the mention of his work with the suit. Yes, flattery had worked.

The boy with red cap put down both arms and with a bit excited voice he said:

“Really?”

Beaks smiled, maybe he’d make the duckling work for him willingly. So, while still smiling, he replied:

“Yes, of course.”

Then the kid adopted a reflexive pose, his and his gaze drifted to the ground, after a few seconds, he looked back at Beaks and said:

“Okay, I accept your apologize, but I think you should publicly apologize to everyone who has been in danger this afternoon, not just with me,”

Beaks felt his blood starting to boil, how dared a ten years old kid to suggest how had he to act? Mark tried to calm down himself, he didn’t want the kid seeing through his mask. Instead of that, he stared looking the boy in silence, because the kid was looking the ground again, he seemed to be searching the best way to say whatever he was going to say next. When he talked again, his voice got out a little hesitant while he said:

“And… thanks for… the praise.”

After saying that, the young boy turned around to leave, but Mark called him to stop him, and when the young boy turned around again, he talked to him saying:

“Hey, there’s something I wanted to talk with you. Would you want to work for Waddle?”

The kid did not hesitate with his response:

“No!” he answered quickly and dryly.

His response was so instantaneous that Beaks was speechless. He hadn’t expected the young boy to be so blatant with his refusal. Recovering as fast as he could from his shock, the Waddle CEO said:

“Are you sure about that? I’m not suggesting you to be a simple intern, I offer you a real place in my company.”

Huey’s crown only grew deeper. His hands were clenched into fists and with a hard voice he answered:

“I’ll never work for you again Beaks. Never again.”

And after say that, the boy turned and stormed away. Beaks watched him go, the mask he’d worn so far fell and revealed how furious he really was. He looked after the duckling with narrowed eyes and when he disappeared from view, he said in a sinister voice:

"We'll see that, Huey.”

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

Welp, this was the first chapter, what do you think about it! Did you like it! If so, please don’t hesitate to follow or/and put this story among your favorites, and please, do not doubt on leave a review here. It’s always nice to know what readers think.

See you in the next chapter!

Pilyarquitect

#ducktales 2017 #Huey Duck #mark beaks #Fenton Crackshell Cabrera #war for genius

12 notes · View notes

flightfoot · 5 years

Text

A Convergence of Apollos Ch. 3

*Apollo’s POV

We arrived in Times Square. Hopefully we could find the Celedon BEFORE she started causing havoc.

I wasn’t optimistic.

But that did remind me of something...

“Percy, Meg, do you two need something to stuff your ears with? Grover and I should be resistant to the Celedon’s music, but I’m concerned about you two.

Meg split open a seed packet and poured a few seeds into each of her ears. “I’m fine.”

Grover dug out a small ball of warm wax from... somewhere (I did NOT want to know where, or how long it’d been there) and held it out to Percy. “I always keep wax handy. Like chewing gum!”

Percy looked at the wax with disgust, but he took it. “Gee, thanks Grover.”

We wandered around the area searching for the Celedon. I wasn’t too concerned about not being able to find her. She wasn’t here to hide, after all. Finding her before she could cause harm though... I was less certain of that.

As the four of us walked around looking for the golden woman, my mind went over the events of the past hour.

I’d known I could be callous as a god. I knew that I hadn’t put much weight on mortal lives, or mortals’ feelings. But to actually seriously threaten a young girl, just for insulting me...?

Actually, that sounded exactly like something I would’ve done before all this.

The thought wasn’t comforting.

Threatening Meg, threatening Grover. Even if I couldn’t say for sure that I’d have gone through with those threats, I wasn’t sure that I WOULDN’T have, either. And even if I could say for sure that those WERE empty threats, THEY didn’t know that.

‘It is better to be feared than loved, if you cannot be both.’

I’d always felt weirdly about line, and I couldn’t figure out why. Everyone loved me! I could instill fear when I needed to, but I didn’t have to choose.

That had sounded hollow and false even in my head, but I’d ignored it, like I’d ignored so many other uncomfortable truths throughout the millennia.

Subconsciously I always knew I wasn’t as beloved as I liked to tell myself. So whenever I felt like I might not be getting as much deference as I deserved, I compensated with fear. That’s why I’d stoked that rumor that I’d skinned Marsyas alive, so that no one would DARE to claim that they were better than me.

I didn’t care about the negative effects it had on the people around me. Why should I care about some random kid’s feelings?

Being down on Earth, truly being a part of the mortal’s world, and not simply a visitor... I couldn’t help but care.

I glanced over at Percy. This was only two years in the past, yet this version of -Percy seemed so much lighter. Softer. Less disillusioned. But he’d already been through so much.

At twelve years old, only a couple weeks after discovering he was a demigod, he’d been framed for a crime he did not commit, and forced to prove his innocence and return Zeus’s Masterbolt, or else suffer his wrath.

I remembered Zeus’s thundering around when he discovered that his Symbol of Power was missing, his certainty that Poseidon MUST have gotten his son to steal it for him. This despite there being no evidence that Percy had even known the mythological world existed. And being only twelve years old. And not being on Olympus at the time.

All us gods knew that Percy was innocent. That Zeus was taking his anger out on him as a way of getting back at Poseidon, who he also didn’t have sufficient evidence to suspect. But when had he ever cared about such things? He’d decided that Percy must be involved with the theft in some way, and even if he wasn’t, Poseidon surely was, and hurting Percy would hurt Poseidon.

He never stopped to think about Percy as a person. As a kid who was dragged into this through no fault of his own. He was just a tool, one he wouldn’t mind breaking in a sibling spat.

All demigods were disposable tools, acknowledged when useful, ignored when they were not.

I wish I could say that I had thought better of demigods than that. And I suppose I had - of some of them. Of my own children certainly. But as for other gods’ children? It was more hit-or-miss. I’d help them sometimes, but I rarely considered their thoughts and feelings important, unless I had a crush on them. Aside from that? Not really. Not until now.

When Thalia’s tree had fallen ill, all of us were concerned about the Camp’s waning defenses. Yet Hermes was the only one who had DONE something about it, who had gone down and helped, despite not having a child involved in the quest itself. He’d encouraged Percy to go on the quest, even though he hadn’t been chosen for it. He’d even given him tools to help on the journey.

I smiled a little. My younger brother was a rebel. Always had been. He’d had the guts to go against Zeus’s general directive to not interfere with demigod quests, to help someone he barely knew, on the off chance that he could bring his son around.

My smile faded. Luke... his methods may have been bad, but he had reason to hate the gods. We’d wronged the demigods - wronged our children - wronged the children of others’ - so many times. We hadn’t cared about the destruction we left behind.

I’d only been mortal for a few months, yet I already felt some stirrings of resentment at the lack of help I and the other mortals had received. I understood why most of the gods couldn’t help me. But couldn’t they do more to help the others?

I hoped I was wrong. I hoped that the divine side of my family had helped Leo get to Camp Jupiter. That they’d helped to repel Caligula’s attack.

Somehow, I doubted it.

Percy’d snuck out to go on a quest AGAIN when my sister and Annabeth were kidnapped.

I tightened my grip on my lyre and grit my teeth thinking about it. I remembered the moment our bond had clouded over. I’d tried to tell myself that she was fine. She was my sister! She wouldn’t be taken down easily.

But I couldn’t help but remember that time Ares had been trapped in a jar for months. How lifeless he’d looked. How he’d nearly faded away...

When I’d heard that a quest had been sent out to find Artemis, I’d been relieved. Moreso when I found out that one of the participants was Percy Jackson, and another was Zoe Nightshade. I’d been impressed with Percy’s previous exploits. Not just anyone could traipse out of the Underworld and immediately defeat Ares, especially after only having had a week of training, nor could they enter the Sea of Monsters and escape with the Golden Fleece, WITHOUT losing anyone along the way.

As for Zoe, she was one of my sister’s oldest hunters, her most trusted lieutenant, and her best friend. She’d had my sis’s back on many, MANY hunts over the millennia. She must have been as desperate to get Artemis back as I was.

Still... I had to help. Even though Zeus had told me not to. Even though he’d threatened to hurt me if he caught me interfering.

It would hurt to be incinerated with lightning, again and again, until I had trouble reforming.

Losing my sister would hurt more.

I’d helped in what little way I could, providing transportation to the group so they could get to Atlas - and my sister - faster.

I remembered seeing sis again just after they’d freed her from her imprisonment. After Percy had freed her.

She tore into Olympus as fast as she could, flickering silver.

I understood what that meant. My sister didn’t cry often. But her aura’s flickers betrayed her distress. As soon as I saw her, I enveloped her in a hug, determined not to let her go.

She hugged back.

“Zoe...” she’d murmured, her voice cracking.

I understood what must have happened.

I held her even tighter.

My sister may have been safe. But she’d lost someone close to her.

I knew how that felt.

After things had calmed down, I asked her how Atlas had persuaded her to take the sky in the first place. She’d told me that Annabeth, a young maiden, had been trapped under the weight of the sky, and would have died if she had carried the burden much longer. Taking it from her was the only way to save her life. It may have meant trapping herself, but she had had no other choice.

I’d always known how far my sister would go to help girls in trouble, so I wasn’t surprised. But I’d never understood why she’d go so far to help mortals she barely even knew.

I understood now. The lessons I’d been learning the past few months, of the value of mortals, she’d learned long ago. Or perhaps she’d always known them.

I smirked, remembering my encounter with Ares a few months later. He’d mentioned cursing Percy to drop his sword in retaliation for Percy kicking his butt during the lightning-bolt-stealing incident. (Not in those words of course, but we all knew what’d happened.) I’d given him a tight smile and left as quickly as possible, not trusting myself to speak.

I’d headed straight to Artemis, relishing how easily our bond let me find her. I’d insisted on checking in on her every other day for months after her capture. She hadn’t protested.

I told her what Ares had done. How he’d cursed Percy to drop his sword when he needed it most. Cold fury filled her eyes. She’d made arrangements with her Hunters and left with me to track down Ares.

We’d found him less than an hour later. He’d made for good target practice.

About eight months after Artemis’ kidnapping, while we were hunting down monsters that might be turned to Kronos’s cause, I’d heard that Kronos’s forces had invaded Camp Half-Blood.

And that they’d killed one of my sons.

Lee...

I hadn’t gotten to know him as well as I wanted to.

I’d visited him in his dreams, of course, like I did with all my children. But I’d only seen him in-person a handful of times. And I REALLY hadn’t seen him - or any of my kids - much since Kronos started stirring.

I didn’t have much time to mourn. So I shoved the thoughts away, buried them under the need to party. To have the adoration of a crowd.

I’d lost many, many children over the millennia. I’d gotten good at coping with it.

Hopefully with Percy’s help, this universe’s version of me wouldn’t have to cope with Michael’s loss as well.

“THERE SHE IS!”

My head snapped upwards at Percy’s yell.

A gleaming golden woman was walking across a nearby stage to the center microphone.

We rushed over, elbowing people out of the way. Truthfully, Grover and I mostly just followed in Percy’s and Meg’s wake. Percy could have a pretty intimidating presence when he needed to, which was helping him get the crowd to move apart, and Meg was... well, Meg. I winced slightly as I heard another swear from one of the poor pedestrians Meg had elbowed out of the way.

Just as the Celedon reached the microphone, the four of us reached the stage.

Percy and Meg summoned their blades.

Grover fumbled for his pan-pipes.

I moved my lyre into playing position.

The Celedon opened her mouth and sang.

It was only one note, but the sorrow in it caused the mortals to drop to the ground, weeping uncontrollably.

Meg and Percy were only a little better off. Both froze as the note rang out, though at least they remained standing.

Oh. They’d both forgotten to put in their hearing protection. Crap.

Grover frantically started playing on his pipes, trying to drown out the Celedon’s song. He didn’t entirely succeed, but he did disrupt it enough that the mortals - and our friends - began to stir.

“PERCY, MEG!” I shouted. “YOUR HEARING PROTECTION!”

Percy quickly stuffed wax in his ears, while Meg closed her eyes. Moments later, bluebonnets sprouted from her ears.

Now that my friends hearing situation was fixed, I turned my attention to my lyre. I needed to trap her, obviously. Now how could I do that...?

My fingers started moving before I could finish that thought, weaving a familiar melody on the lyre. Walls rose up around the Celedon, twenty feet high. surrounding her - and Percy and Meg - in a nearly impenetrable cage.

Then she turned into a bird and flew out, leaving my friends trapped in a now-quite-unfortunately nearly impenetrable cage - so long as you couldn’t get out the top somehow.

Right. I forgot my Celedons could do that.

“APOLLO!” I heard Meg’s muffled shout from the other side of the wall. “LET US OUT!”

“Well, uh, you see,” I stammered, embarrassed. “I... can’t exactly do that. The lyre creates. It doesn’t destroy.”

I could practically feel Meg’s unimpressed stare. “You can’t...? Never mind. Just make a ladder or something so we can get out.”

I strummed on the lyre a melody about climbing out of deep holes. A rope manifested. I threw it over the wall and quickly secured the other end to a lightpole.

A minute later, Percy and Meg climbed out of my open-air cage. I noticed that the flowers were gone from Meg’s ears, which explained how she could hear me before.

Meg set her hands on her hips, glaring at me. “You never said she could turn into a bird.”

“I forgot.”

She grunted, looking annoyed. “Well is there anything else we should know about the Celedon that you forgot?”

I wracked my brain, trying to think of anything. I’d been getting a feeling I was forgetting something about the Celedons, but what? I mean, I used them as my back-up singers for concerts, but they could also amplify my singing for other... things...

Oooooh. That wasn’t good.

Percy noticed the look on my face. “I don’t like that expression. What else can she do?” he asked, clearly dreading my answer.

I licked my lips nervously. “Well, you see, the Celedons are my backup singers. But they don’t just back me up at concerts. They can back me up when singing anything. Healing songs, plague songs, burn-everything-with-fire songs...”

Percy’s face twisted into an expression I had dubbed the “Oh Crap” expression. I’d worn it often over the past few months.

“Great,” Meg grumbled. “More fiery charmspeakers.”

“Technically, the Celedons don’t charmspeak-”

“They make people want to do what they say. Close enough.”

Percy cut in urgently. “She could burn New York to the ground, or start an epidemic?!’

“Well they’d be a fraction of the strength of what I’m normally capable of, so she could hardly affect ALL of New York. A block at most.”

Percy paled. “We have GOT to stop her. NOW.”

I nodded. “That’s great, but we need to FIND her first.”

“She went over that way,” Grover said, pointing to a tower.

We all turned to look at him. He looked back at us, annoyed. “What? I needed to do something to help while Apollo was getting you two out of that cage, so I kept my eyes on her, so we could find her later.”

I blinked. That made sense.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Meg asked. “Let’s go.”

We took an elevator to the top floor. Luckily the Celedon had chosen a public building to perch on. I wouldn’t have wanted to explain to some secretary why four teens urgently needed to get to the roof of some private business building.

We found her standing on to rooftop, singing “New York, New York” to the enraptured crowd in Times Square. Her voice REALLY carried.

At least this song only compelled people to dance.

“So what’s the plan?” I whispered to my friends.

Percy gauged the situation. He whispered back, “We need to shut her up and trap her, this time in something that she CAN’T fly out of. Apollo, can you make a birdcage? Out of Celestial Bronze, preferably?”

I nodded. I could see where this was going.

“You’re going to force her into bird form and then stuff her into the birdcage. How’re you planning to get her to change form?”

“Gag her, then wrestle her until she changes form, and stuff her into the cage.”

Simple plan. I respected that.

Percy turned to Grover. “You still have that blindfold from Pin-the-tail-on-the-human?”

Grover handed over a small strip of cloth.

Percy looked at Meg, “Ready?”

She nodded.

Meg and Percy reinserted their seeds and wax, respectively. They weren’t about to make the same mistake as last time.

They snuck up behind the oblivious Celedon just as she was belting out the final lyrics of ”New York, New York”.

Percy clamped the make-shift gag around her mouth as he and Meg wrestled with her.

I got to work making the birdcage, singing about strong, gilded cages. It manifested within seconds.

I looked over at the demigods. The Celedon was bucking and kicking, trying desperately to throw them off, but the two of them stubbornly clung onto her.

She edged closer to the edge of the building and spun quickly, breaking Meg’s grip.

Percy acted quickly, releasing his hold on the Celedon - and subsequently releasing the gag he’d been using to silence her - and dove quickly to Meg, catching her just as she started falling off the building.

I breathed a sigh of relief, my heart still hammering.

Then the Celedon began singing an ode to me.

Now you might be thinking, “Why would you mind her singing a song about how great you are, Apollo, and all of the awesome things you can do?”

The answer to that, dear reader, is that I prefer when the song about my awesomeness DOESN’T SUMMON A FIERY INFERNO TO TRY TO SCORCH MY AWESOME SELF OUT OF EXISTENCE.

I dove for cover, dropping the lyre in my haste. I quickly picked it up again, strumming a tune about raindrops, rain, and storms. Stormclouds quickly gathered and let loose, putting out the fire.

Then Percy rammed into the Celedon like a freight train.

Oh yeah. Son of Poseidon. Well this just became very one-sided.

Percy held onto her with a vice-like grip. No matter how hard she struggled, she couldn’t shake him. She opened her mouth in an attempt to sing, but Percy just shoved water in her mouth, gagging her. Thankfully she didn’t actually NEED to breathe, so he didn’t have to worry about choking her.

As a last ditch effort to escape, she turned into a bird and attempted to fly away before Percy could adjust his grip. Since Percy had been TRYING to get her into bird form, this didn’t happen. He captured the bird-Celedon in a water bubble and threw her into my Celestial Bronze birdcage. It clicked shut, locking the squacking Celedon in.

Percy picked up the birdcage, carrying it over to me and Grover. Meg walked over to me, scowling, her hair and dress completely soaked from the rainstorm I’d summoned. Belatedly I realized I was also completely drenched, and that Grover smelled badly of Wet Goat.

Looking at the three of us (Percy was completely dry and looked like he could run three marathons in a row. Cheater.) I asked, “So... what size clothes do you two wear?”

We walked out of the building wearing (in my opinion) incredibly stylish new outfits, courtesy of my magical lyre. Well, except for Percy. He’d declined for some reason. His loss.

I admired my sparkly golden tight pants and white shirt festooned with rhinestones and glitter. It felt good to be able to strut around for once. Maybe I didn’t have my usual good looks, but I could still pull off the glitz and glam!

Meg and Grover, sadly, had opted for far less extravagant outfits. I pouted a bit - I was sure I could make them outfits that would make them look FABULOUS - but complied. I summoned a simple tie-dye t-shirt for Grover, and a plain black shirt and denim jeans for Meg. Apparently they were really paranoid about me going overboard after seeing what I’d made for myself.

Meg carefully tucked her sopping green dress away. I smiled a little. She cared for that dress, that present, so much. It’d gotten burned, covered with mud, and torn again and again, but she insisted on mending it each time.

Together the four of us (plus one feathery Celedon) entered the subway again.

#trials of apollo #a convergence of apollos #percy jackson #lester papadopoulos #apollo #meg mccaffrey #grover underwood #the trials of apollo #singer of apollo #the singer of apollo #toa #time travel #fanfiction

24 notes · View notes

believingbrook · 6 years

Text

taakitz hanahaki, 6 (final)

He wakes up to the overhead light clicked on dimly and Taako standing in the doorway.

Kravitz looks at him, brows furrowed. “Already?” he rasps. He would’ve thought he’d at least wake up before he died.

He never did say goodbye to Raven. He never got to sing for her again. Somehow, that hurts the most.

“Oh my gods,” says Taako. Even silhouetted by moonlight and the faint overhead bulb, he’s beautiful. “Holy — Kravitz?”

Kravitz laughs. He sits up, and is instantly slammed backward with a wave of racking pain, devolves into coughs for a handful of seconds before slumping back down, gasping. Damn. Not dead, then.

Which means —

“Don’t — don’t do that, just lie back down, what the hell, Kravitz, I didn’t — are you okay?”

Which, objectively, is a dumb question.

Two slim hands flutter frightfully over his head, butterflies looking to land but not knowing where, and Kravitz reaches up weakly to take one in his own.

It’s real. He stares at it, uncomprehending. It’s solid in his own, and it squeezes his, tight enough to be painful.

Then he looks up at Taako, who’s looking at him with fear plain on his face.

The facts don’t add up: that Taako is here, Taako is scared for him, and that this is real. This isn’t a dream, and he isn’t dead.

“Kravitz,” Taako says, kneeling by the couch, “Kravitz, can you — can you hear me? Gods, it didn’t take your hearing too, did it? I have — I don’t know how this works — ”

“I can hear you,” Kravitz says hoarsely. He’s still puzzling over the angles of Taako’s face. “You’re here.”

Taako bursts into a high-pitched laugh. “Yeah, homie, I’m here, I — hachi machi, you look like shit.”

“Thanks,” Kravitz says dryly. Then, because he’s exhausted and has no filter: “What are you doing here?”

“I — I got a call from Mags, told me you were in a, uh, uh, a bad fuckin’ way, and you were — that you weren’t doing great and I just had to — I couldn’t — ” Taako locks his jaw and looks away, running a shaking hand through his hair. ��Does it hurt?”

“Like hell,” Kravitz says bluntly. Beneath all the exhaustion and joy and pity there’s a thin thread of anger holding him tight. “You left.”

Taako flinches. “Yeah.” He swallows, looks away, then back at Kravitz, gaze fluttering nervously around the living room. It’s like he’s never seen it before, which pisses Kravitz off, honestly; he’s been here hundreds of times, gods, there’s a Taako-shaped indentation on his couch. He has no right to forget what neither the furniture nor Kravitz cannot. “You scared me.”

“I scared you?”

“That — sounds shitty, and it is, I know — look, Kravitz. Listen, I — ” his hands finally land on Kravitz’s and hold them, tightly. There is tension in every one of his fingers. “You told me, or I, uh, I found out, I guess, and I just — I freaked. I freaked out, okay? Because then suddenly a whole bunch of stuff made sense. Like in senior year you, uh, you missed that one test because you said you were throwing up, and you came in looking like hell. And I, uh — I couldn’t connect back then what was happening, of course, because you didn’t — and then you ran out of chemistry class, and I thought maybe you, I dunno, had to go call Raven or...or something, and just. A whole bunch of stuff made sense and I didn’t know how to deal with it because it’s on me, it’s all — on me, I mean, kinda, it’s really obvious in retrospect and I don’t know how I missed it,” he says, voice rising with something like hysteria. “But I didn’t want to see it because I didn’t know what to do with it, so Lup and Barry — they took me away — I mean, that makes it sound like it was a kidnapping, it wasn’t — that’s why they weren’t at work, by the way, I mean, if you even went to work? Did you?”

“I did,” he says. He sits up straighter and brushes off Taako’s attempt to help, anger pulling his face flat. “Why are you here, Taako?”

Taako blinks at the question. His head bows, for a moment, hair brushing in front of his face, and Kravitz notices with a start how greasy and unkempt it looks. From Taako, who cares about his appearance like he does little else, it’s a shock.

“I realized something,” he says. “Something that I should have — I dunno, seen a long time ago. You know me, I’m real good at, uh, at fuckin’, not seeing things I don’t wanna see.”

Kravitz smiles wryly at that. “Yeah.”

Taako shoots him a brief grin. He fiddles nervously with Kravitz’s fingers, which feels — nice. Taako has a lot to answer for, but at least he’s here. He didn’t think he would get to say goodbye to Taako.

“And I know this is, I dunno, comin’ out of left field for you — especially because I ran, and I know, I — I opened your texts, Kravitz, I turned off the — ” he clears his throat “ — the little, the receipts, you know them? I turned those off because I didn’t know what to say, and I listened to your voicemails, not just the ones from this week but from way back, I’ve been saving them, and — ” his voice breaks. He takes a deep breath, looks away for a moment, then exhales it shakily. “Every time I got angry, at — at you, at whoever made this...happen, to you, I guess that one’s kinda on Taako because it was obvious and I just, I missed the fuckin’ memo, I...I listened to them, Kravitz, over and over again. They made me feel better, somehow. Even when Lup couldn’t.” He laces his fingers with Kravitz’s, shoulders bowed. “You make me feel better. And not just about this, about...everything.”

“I’m glad,” Kravitz says hoarsely, and means it. “Taako, look at me.” He does, and Kravitz smiles at him softly. “I’m glad I could help.”

“Don’t,” Taako snaps abruptly. “Don’t do that, that — don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you — ” Taako’s expression crumples for a moment and he slumps against the coffee table, back where his boots were kicked a mere three days before. He takes a trembling breath, and this time it’s Taako fighting for air. Kravitz doesn’t like the reversal at all. “Listen, I did come here for a reason, and not just — to see you, though that was mostly it, I also came to...to tell you something.”

“Oh,” Kravitz says. He lets his eyes slip shut, then opens them again. “I didn’t think I’d get to say it either, but I’m glad you’re here.”

He squeezes Taako’s hand in his. Now that he’s here — it’s so obvious. Kravitz had known he would scare Taako, and that was exactly what happened, and now he’s here; he’s here to say goodbye.

That’s all Kravitz could have asked for, in the end. There’s still some simmering resentment but it’s dimmed, and Kravitz feels love; it never left, but it flickers fully to life now. Even prone on a couch he hangs onto that feeling, summons it to the forefront. It’s so nice, to love. It will kill him but he doesn’t regret it.

No, he thinks; he doesn’t regret anything.

“But you did,” Taako says, confused. “You did — I mean, kinda — ”

Kravitz frowns. “No, I didn’t. Taako, listen. Thank you for coming back, it...it means a lot. Truth be told, I didn’t know if you would.”

“Yeah,” Taako chokes. “Yeah, of — of course.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” he murmurs. “I don’t think it’ll be more than a day or so. We don’t have any beds left, Merle took Raven’s and she’s in mine, but — there are pillows and blankets, you know where they are.”

Taako sits up. “A day until what?”

Kravitz looks at him curiously. “Until I die, Taako.”

“What?”

“I thought that was why you were here,” Kravitz says. “To say goodbye. Are you not — ?”

“No!” Taako’s voice edges clean into hysteria, now. His grip on Kravitz’s hands is painful. “No, I’m not here to fucking — are you kidding? Are you kidding me? No, you’re not going to die!”

Kravitz rasps out another hoarse laugh. “You sound like Raven,” he says. “She keeps saying the same thing.”

Taako is looking at him in equal parts confusion and terror, and if he were strong enough Kravitz would wipe that expression away with his thumb, smoothing the wrinkles in Taako’s skin with only his palms.

“I didn’t come here to tell you goodbye, Kravitz,” Taako says fiercely, voice shaking. “I came here to tell you I love you.”

Kravitz breathes once, twice, into the ensuing silence. He stares at Taako, and Taako stares right back. The whole room is holding its breath, breathless, and for once it isn’t Kravitz.

Love swells up in him, powerful and sweeping, and he smiles gently. The flowers in his throat bloom brighter and he thinks that this is it, maybe; he may have less time than he thought. If Taako keeps making him fall harder, Kravitz thinks wryly, he might have less than the day Raven fought so hard to give him.

“I appreciate what you’re trying to do,” Kravitz says softly. “But Taako, I don’t want you to try to feel things that you — ” he chokes on nothing, he’s breathing in nothing, he can’t breathe.

“I’m not — this isn’t a fucking joke, Kravitz, I’m not kidding — Kravitz? Kravitz?”

Kravitz curls sharply in on himself. His chest heaves for air that doesn’t come and it’s bad, this is bad but it isn’t the worst, he’s breathing through a reed pipe but at least he’s breathing at all.

“Kravitz,” Taako says, whispers, pleads, hands on his shoulders and his cheeks and his chest, like Taako’s fingers can knit him back together where Merle’s magic failed. “Kravitz, don’t — breathe, just keep breathing, Kravitz, please.”

“Go.” Kravitz swallows a cough and chokes, and all he can think about is how the last time Taako saw him like this, he left. “Please, go.”

“I’m not going fucking anywhere,” Taako snaps, and the couch shifts as Taako sits by him, two shaking hands resting on his shoulders. “Is there anything I can — how do I — how can I help?”

Kravitz shakes his head, waving a hand at him. Flowers spill unchecked from his lips and he retches, fighting as always, futilely, exhaustingly, to dislodge them from where they’ve rooted down their home in his ribs.

“Don’t you dare,” Taako says sharply, “don’t you dare, don’t you fucking— ” There are hands on his cheeks, thumbs wiping away the tears prickling at his eyes. Kravitz reaches up, takes those wrists in his and tries to push them away, but Taako refuses to go.

“Don’t,” Taako says. The world is spinning; Kravitz feels lightheaded, and when he cracks his eyes open between open-mouthed pants the room is blurred and shaky. Taako runs his hands along Kravitz’s arms, down his chest, up his neck and into his hair, holding him steady. “You can’t leave now, you can’t, I still haven’t — it’s just fucking rude to leave when — when someone has something to say and you aren’t, you’re not rude that’s just about the last thing you are, don’t — don’t leave. Don’t leave me.”

Kravitz hacks out a laugh, at the bitter irony of Taako trying to get him not to leave, but doubles over again when a rose gets stuck at the back of his mouth. He can feel the little petals tickling the back of his throat, like he could reach in and pull it out, but he can’t; he knows he can’t, because he’s tried. Taako’s hands tremble around his temples.

His windpipe clears, bit by bit. When he can see straight he looks up to find Taako’s face creased in an expression he’s never seen. In his hands is a single rose; discolored, but stained scarlet with blood.

That anxious weight still holds in his sternum but Kravitz breathes slowly, shallowly, and it’s manageable again. Strangely enough, Taako’s face is mottled, and there — there’s a shine to his cheeks and around his eyes that Kravitz has never seen before. His fist is locked tight in the fabric of the couch by Kravitz’s waist.

He stares at the rose and Kravitz tries to ask what he’s thinking, and can’t form the words. At the pained sound, Taako’s face falls flat, and he crumples the rose in his fist.

“No!” Kravitz wheezes, lurching forward to weakly pry Taako’s hands off the bloom. “No, leave it!”

“Why?” Taako asks, hands shaking. “These — these fucking things, they’re killing you!”

“Don’t,” he pleads, “don’t, just — give it back to me, don’t hurt them, please — ”

“These — ” Taako locks his jaw, every point in his body rigid with tension. “These fucking flowers, Kravitz, why are you keeping — burn them!”

“No!” Kravitz reaches for it and collapses back with a choked groan as his ribs protest. “No— ”

“Okay, okay,” Taako says, resting a hand on Kravitz’s shoulder and gently pushing him back down. “All right, just...chill. Don’t sit up. Where — where d’you want it?”

Kravitz points behind him, toward the table where the most recent ones are stored, and Taako hisses at the sight of so many discolored blooms by his head. Taako drops it brusquely in with the others, then pauses and studies them for a long, long time. For the first time in a while, Kravitz has no idea what he’s thinking.

Then Taako takes him by surprise and turns and sits and says, “I wasn’t kidding.”

Kravitz looks questioningly at him. Taako clears his throat. “When I said — listen, Taako don’t make these sorts of confessions lightly, so there’s no — no ifs ands or buts, yeah? No passin’ Go, no — fuckin’ — putting anyone in jail or anything.”

Right. Kravitz relaxes back into the cushions, propping his head up on the arm to keep Taako the center of his vision. “I understand,” he says. “And — I meant it, too. When I thanked you.”

“No — ” Taako tugs out the hairband of his braid in one frustrated motion. “No, you thanked me because you thought I was goofing. I wasn’t goofing, this isn’t — this isn’t a goof. This is the last damn thing from a goof. Farthest damn thing.” He shakes his head, irritated. “That — okay, fuck speech, but listen. Point still stands. I wasn’t joking.”

Kravitz sighs. “Taako, I’m fine. Really. I’ve made my peace with it. You don’t have to — you don’t have to pretend anything just to keep me alive. I don’t want that for you.”

“Yeah, and I don’t — I don’t want death for you, homie!”

“I already told you, this isn’t your fault.” Kravitz reaches for Taako’s hand and he offers it, instantly. “This isn’t your responsibility.” A small, fond smile crosses his face. “I fell in love with you. It isn’t your fault that you don’t feel the same.”

But instead of calming down, Taako only appears more frantic. “This isn’t — I know, you don’t pick you fall in love with or whatever, okay so I see in retrospect how what I said doesn’t sound great, but I’m not just here to try to keep you alive! This isn’t some — some fucking scheme to, to make you hold on a little longer. I’m here to tell you I love you. Did — did you hear that? Because I’ll say it again, I fucking will. I love you. I love you, Kravitz.”

Kravitz stares at him. “What?”

“I love you, Kravitz.”

“No, I heard that part, I just don’t get it.”

“What don’t you get?” His voice is desperate in a way Kravitz has never heard it. “Three words, right? That’s — that’s — I mean, you do too, right?”

“Of course I love you,” Kravitz says easily. “But you — you understand why I don’t believe you, right? This is all awfully convenient.”

“Kravitz — ”

“No. I call Julia and Magnus, and you show up the next evening saying you love me? You’ve known me for ten years, Taako. Love doesn’t develop over the course of — of two days. It takes time.” He knows. He’s fallen in love before Taako, once or twice; but never for this long, and never this deeply.

When he was younger he wondered if he would die for it. He doesn’t have to wonder anymore.

But Taako doesn’t stop. He doesn’t stop. Taako is the only person he knows who could rival Raven in stubbornness. “Yeah, that’s because I’m a fucking idiot. Look. You know me, Kravitz, you know that when I get an, uh, uh, a feeling that I don’t know what to do with I ignore it until it fucks off. You know that.”

Despite everything, the affirmation that Kravitz still knows him makes him feel warm. At least they still share something. “Yes,” Kravitz says dryly, “you do.”

“Yeah. So what do you think I did when I fell in love with you? D’you think I fuckin’ — that I recognized it and, like, acknowledged it like you did? Like any reasonable person would? Hell no, cha’boy went and stuck his head in the fucking sand and it took Barry and Lup two days to dig it out all the way! It — this didn’t just spring up — shit, bad choice in words, this — this didn’t just come out of nowhere, it’s — it’s been a long time, Kravitz. A really long time. I just — I didn’t know what to do with it. Didn’t even know it was happening until, y’know, last night when I was sitting — listening to — never mind, that’s not, that isn’t relevant. You don’t get to fuckin’ beef it because I’m an idiot.”

Kravitz shakes his head, and keeps shaking it. It doesn’t stack up. None of this makes sense: doesn’t add up, the words don’t flow. Three years he’s spent, feeling his own death creeping up on him, and Taako loved him the whole time?

Gods, he’d hoped. He’d hoped so badly, for so long. When he could still rasp through notes he’d written music, songs for Taako, what they could’ve shared. Then, when he realized his feelings would never be returned, he shoved them in a folder and locked them away.

He’d almost burned them. Ironically, it was Raven who had stopped him.

There’s a high-pitched whine filtering in through his ears and it takes him a moment to realize that it’s coming from him.

“Listen,” Taako says, faster and more frantic now. “I need you to believe me. Please, Kravitz. Please, you’re — you look like hell — ”

Kravitz keeps shaking his head. It’s spinning. The ground beneath his back is spinning. In his chest, those damned flowers keep blooming. “I don’t....”

“C’mon,” Taako pleads. His hands rhythmically smooth the collar of Kravitz’s shirt. Distantly Kravitz thinks that this is his sleepshirt, he should’ve put on something nicer for guests, before remembering that this is Taako and Taako has seen him in ripped black jeans and a T-shirt with Amy Lee’s face in the middle.

“Be — be angry, you can do that, that’s fine, as long as you accept — it took me like three years! It took me a long time, to get that, and isn’t that — oh boy isn’t that fucked! That it took me that long to realize!”

“Taako — ”

“No, you don’t — ” Taako’s breath hitches, the movement of his hands speeding. “Just — I can count on one fuckin’ hand the number of times I’ve seen you get angry but I need you to do it now, can you believe how long it took me? To realize I loved you? Just, I dunno, channel your sister, you were here suffering the whole time and I — ” his voice breaks and his shoulders hitch, “ — I didn’t realize ‘cause I didn’t want to see it, how fucked is that?”

“I...” Kravitz trails off. His throat is closing again. He can’t figure out what to think. Taako’s being sincere. Kravitz knows this because the tells are obvious, his face his voice and his ears, but the words he’s saying don’t make sense, because if he’s right then Kravitz was wrong for three years.

If he’s right —

Taako fumbles for Kravitz’s hand. He’s crying, Kravitz realizes through a pounding headache and ringing ears; he’s never seen Taako cry before. These last few days have held a lot of firsts for him.

Taako spreads his fingers gently and presses Kravitz’s hand to his chest. Right over his heartbeat.

It thumps, quick and harsh, against Kravitz’s palm. “I love you,” Taako whispers. “I do, I mean it, I really do. This isn’t a jape and it isn’t a goof, and that — this — this is going for you. This whole — heart thing, this rhythm — you’re a music boy, this tempo? It’s yours. It’s yours. Take it. If you want it, it’s kind of — fast, right now — ”

Taako’s words crumble, get stuck on the back of his tongue. “Please.”

“I don’t want to take your heart,” Kravitz manages. He can’t stop thinking: what if Taako isn’t lying?

“This isn’t taking, you’re not — you’re not taking it, I’m trying to give it! I’m trying to tell you that I’m giving it to you! No permission necessary, just — “ Taako releases Kravitz’s hand, and Kravitz keeps it there, carefully; his heartbeat is entrancing, just as it was the first time he felt it. He takes Kravitz’s face in his hands and presses their foreheads together. “I come here, and you tell me you’re a fucking day from dying, and I don’t — I can’t — Jesus, Kravitz, I need you to not be stubborn for once and just listen. Please, just listen.”

Kravitz stays silent. He thinks —

He’s never seen Taako like this before, so thoroughly taken apart. He’s never seen Taako touch someone other than his sister for longer than two minutes, and yet here he is, smoothing his hands along Kravitz’s shoulders, his arms, his cheeks; here he is, pressing their foreheads together and whispering impossible things against Kravitz’s lips like they mean something.

Taako folds him tighter in his arms. “I love you,” he whispers, palm flat against Kravitz’s shoulderblade. Stunned, it takes Kravitz several seconds to reciprocate, folding his hands behind the small of Taako’s back.

Over and over Taako repeats it: I love you, Kravitz. I love you. I miss you, I’m sorry I hurt you, please don’t leave; I love you. I love you. I love you.

Something curious happens, then.

Kravitz closes his eyes, chin tucked on Taako’s shoulder. He hears Taako’s litany, those string of broken words and hollow gasps; Taako’s never prayed in his life but this, Kravitz thinks, is the closest he’s ever gotten.

And Kravitz — lets him in. Lets himself hear those words, lets them wrap cool and gentle around his heart, and decides to trust.

Please don’t hurt, Taako whispers, nails jagged against his shoulder, and suddenly, he doesn’t.

The wrenching pain in his chest ceases. The relief is so abrupt that Kravitz opens his eyes, just in time to blink as the aching pressure on the inside of his ribs vanishes. All down his throat, he can feel it; thousands of tiny roots that had burrowed into his flesh releasing, floating free.

And then they come up.

Kravitz locks his arms around Taako and coughs over his shoulder, pushes everything out. Taako’s pleas turn frantic again but Kravitz tunes them out — he doesn’t want to hear this, doesn’t want to hear his love shouting himself hoarse — and holds him carefully, firmly in place. Taako fights him, looking again for some way to help but Kravitz doesn’t know how — doesn’t have the air to explain — that he doesn’t need it, that this is it, that it’s not just petals and it’s not just flowers but it’s roots and seeds and everything that has grown inside him for the past three years.

It burns like hell, and Kravitz loses himself to the familiar push-pull of expelling flowers while trying to suck in air. Eventually his arms weaken around Taako’s waist, trembling from exertion, and Taako’s hands are on him again in an instant. Somewhere, distantly, someone is crying his name, shaking his shoulders, begging him for — for something, but Kravitz can’t hear them.

Then the last of the petals fall free, and Kravitz sags forward. Two arms wrap around him, supporting him, and he looks up to see Taako crying openly, shaking with what must be fear.

He takes the first deep breath in three years.

“I’m okay,” he says. There’s still a rasp to his voice. The scores of flesh that ripped apart didn’t heal immediately, but the thorns wrapped in their stems are gone, a serene pile of green-and-red that lies innocently on their carpet.

“Kravitz?”

“I’m okay,” he says, giddy. “I’m — I can breathe!”

He takes a deep breath, then another, and another, marvelling at how he can feel his chest expand. There’s a sweetness to deep breaths that gods, he’d forgotten — he’d forgotten how good it felt to be able to close his eyes and breathe. His ribs twinge as lungs long-depressed expand again, and he revels in it.

“You — ” Taako presses his palms flat against Kravitz’s ribcage, and holds his breath for one, two, three seconds before his face crumples and he buries himself in Kravitz’s shoulder. He’s trembling. “Gods,” he whispers, “gods, Kravitz, you scared me, don’t fucking — Jesus — ”

He places a wondering hand on his throat and swallows. It doesn’t tickle. He doesn’t have to bury the urge to cough. He laughs, quietly, amazed. “I’m okay.”

“Is it gone?”

“It’s gone,” Kravitz says, still a little awed himself. Just like that.

Taako’s hold on him tightens, like he’s trying to anchor Kravitz to him with sheer force of will, before he sits up. “You’re an idiot,” he says.

Kravitz laughs, and catches on the laugh when it doesn’t hurt, and laughs even harder, because now he can do that, now he can laugh at the stupid things Taako says. Gods, he can — he can finally sing again. “Fifty-fifty,” he says, rather generously, he thinks. The twinges of resentment he’s resoundingly pushed away for now protest the statement but then Taako does too, so Kravitz thinks he’s gotten his point across, whatever that point was.

Taako loves him.

He’d spent so long hoping and convincing himself that was impossible and here, here’s the proof that he was wrong, and he should be crying, probably, because he does that easy, but instead he just keeps smiling and can’t seem to stop. He laughs, still a little breathless, and draws Taako’s forehead to his. “I love you,” he says, because he can.

“Shit, dude,” Taako murmurs, voice still a little shaky, “me — me too, but listen, kemosabe, the next time you want validation just come talk to me, okay? I don’t...let’s not do that again.” He pauses, fervent. “Ever.”

“I knew what would happen when I told you,” Kravitz says quietly. “I wanted to keep you in my life for as long as possible, Taako. Maybe that was selfish of me.”

Little tremors run along Taako’s shoulders and Kravitz smooths his hands up Taako’s back, along the nape of his neck, humming a tuneless note as comfort. Taako’s not putting his apologies to words but Kravitz can hear them in the heaviness in the air. It’ll take him a long time, Kravitz thinks, to forgive himself for this.

He still knows Taako so well.

“It was,” Taako whispers, letting out a shaky laugh. “But so was leaving, so, uh...fifty-fifty. Except not really. More like...eighty-twenty. A hundred-zero? That’s not even a split, and I know that and I’m not even a math boy, so something’s wrong, uh, uh — “

“Let’s think about that in the morning, hmm?” Kravitz murmurs, catching Taako’s cheekbones with his thumbs and pulling back just far enough to look Taako in the eye.

Taako pulls away and slumps on top of Kravitz, kicking his feet on top of the cushions. He twists to rest an ear on Kravitz’s chest and it takes him a moment; the same heartbeat that pulses in his throat, Taako hears now. Almost instinctively he curls a hand round to the small of Taako’s back, and rests the other against his chest.

“Can I — ” Taako swallows. Kravitz turns his head, nose brushing along Taako’s hair. “Can I stay?”

The vulnerability in those words makes his chest tighten. He drops a kiss on Taako’s forehead then snuggles down, comfortable and warm beneath Taako’s weight.

“Of course.”

He wakes, and notices two things simultaneously: first, he can breathe without wincing, and second, someone’s holding his hand.

He must make some noise because Taako, sitting by the couch with his head tipped back against the curve of Kravitz’s waist, turns to look at him. When he sees Kravitz, his face splits into a grin. “Morning.”

“Morning.” It wasn’t a dream, then, falling asleep with Taako in his arms. He can’t help but smile in return.

“How did you sleep?”

“Good,” he says, surprised at the truth in the statement. He’d slept the whole night through, strangely comfortable despite the fact that this wasn’t his bed, despite the rattling of the radiator that kept him up as a child. He remembers Taako sprawled snugly against his side, and chuckles at a mystery solved. “You?”

“Good.” There’s light streaming in from the windows already, and it catches Taako’s white shirt and hair in streaks of gold as he raises his second hand to join the first. “I woke up a bit before you did, to be honest, but, uh...” he shrugs. “Didn’t want to do anything before you opened those tired eyes.”

The consideration makes Kravitz feel light. He snags one of Taako’s hands and presses the back to his lips, gently. His lips catch briefly on smooth skin. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

Taako stares at him, wide-eyed, then clunks his face against Kravitz’s hip with a snort. “Sap. You’re still a fuckin’ — did you pick that up in your Victorian novels, Kravitz? Is that where you learned that — that fuckin’ trick?”

“It was my homosexual Westerns, actually.”

“Fuck off with that.”

“No, really! You’d be surprised how chivalrous cowboys can be.”

Taako studies his innocent expression, then jabs a finger in his nose. “Still can’t fool me with that poker face, thug.”

“Damn.” Despite the loss, he’s grinning so wide his jaw aches. “At least I can still hand your ass to you in Go Fish.”

“Go Fish is pure luck, that’s a loada bullshit,” Taako says.

He laughs, and Taako does too, and his gaze drops to Taako’s lips and he wonders —

Taako reaches out a hand, brushes a gentle thumb along Kravitz’s lips, palm perched lightly on his chin. “Chapped boys,” he murmurs, drawing a soft laugh from Kravitz. “All this time I thought you just had shitty chapstick, my man.”

“Nope, that was the — the ‘pneumonia.’” He draws verbal air quotes around the word, unwilling to move a muscle.

Taako’s fingers are soft against his lips. Everywhere skin meets skin trails a pathway of sparks that make Kravitz shiver. Kravitz watches him closely, catches the slight hitch in Taako’s breath, how his gaze follows the path his thumb traces gently; watches him lean in, slightly, and close his eyes.

This time it’s Kravitz’s turn to catch his breath. Taako’s brows are knit in anticipation and it would be rude, he thinks, giddy, to make him wait.

Taako’s lips are just as soft as his fingers. He makes a small noise when their mouths meet and reaches forward, running his hand along Kravitz’s cheeks and into his hair.

Kravitz lets them fall backward, tugging Taako along with him. Taako fits easily against his hip, the curve of his chest. Kravitz delights in running a hand along the planes of his back, the curve of his spine, up to cup his neck where the gentle touch makes Taako shudder in his arms. It’s everything he’d hoped for, and he lets out a fluttering sigh when they break apart.

“Hachi machi,” Taako says, breathless. Then he grins. “Man, I was missing out.”

“So was I,” Kravitz says. He pulls Taako more securely against him, the solid weight comforting against his chest, and has to fight back another yawn. He could go back to sleep like this, easily, the two of them twined close together.

Taako laughs softly against the corner of his jaw. “Lazy,” he murmurs.

“Fuck off,” Kravitz replies, just as soft. “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”

There’s a beat of silence, and Kravitz worries for a moment he’s said something wrong, but then one of Taako’s hands tucks more securely around his back and he says, “Yeah. I — I’m glad we can do this, Kravitz. I — ” Taako swallows, burying his nose in Kravitz’s collarbone, and then, so quietly Kravitz can hardly hear it. “I love you.”

Kravitz presses a kiss to Taako’s forehead, notices the contented tilt of Taako’s ears, the way his hands nestle perfectly in the small of Taako’s back; he thinks of the days and weeks before him and thinks, maybe, that his apartment is big enough for two. “I know.”

#taakitz #taz #taako #kravitz #hanahaki

204 notes · View notes

khadij-al-kubra · 6 years

Text

Recuérdame

Pairing: Prinxiety

Warning: Some swearing, near-panic attack, implied hanky-panky

Word Count: 3733

Summary: Virgil and Roman have been in a steady relationship for two years. It’s been some of the happiest times in Virgil’s life, but with Roman flying off to college all the way in New York soon, he is worried if they’re love will survive the long distance. So Roman reassures him in the best way he knows how.

Author’s Note: Okay, so I’ve wanted to write a Prinxiety piece for a while and finally got a good idea for one after @altruistic-skittles and @queer-human-being talked about Roman speaking in Spanish. Despite being half Nicaraguan myself, I am sadly not that fluent in Spanish. So to all of my fellow Latino readers/bloggers I hope I got the translation accurate and do you proud. I hope you enjoy this one-shot fluff.

As always leave a comment if you have any feedback or constructive critiques on the writing. I am always looking to improve.

AO3

This was definitely Virgil’s favorite thing to do with his boyfriend (well, his favorite PG thing anyways). Just lying on the couch together in their PJs, eating snacks, and staying up late watching Disney movies. Tonight’s selection was one of their favorites, Lilo and Stitch. Roman, being the lovable cheese-ball that he was, wore his Stitch t-shirt and red sweatpants. Virgil of course was in his favorite purple flannel pants and Jack Skellington shirt. He snuggled back into Roman’s chest, soaking in the warmth his boyfriend radiated.

Enjoy it while it lasts Virgil. You won’t get to do this for a long time. No more cuddling on the couch, no more sarcastic teasing, no intimate nights in bed, no tender moments...

Since his parents were out of town Virgil had the house to himself (yeah, his Dad and Ren were actually pretty cool), so he’d invited Roman to spend the weekend together. It was the last week of summer break before college started and Virgil was dreading the end of it. By tomorrow afternoon Roman would be on a plane to New York for his orientation week. Roman would be going to acting school there and Virgil would stay behind in Florida attending community college.

He knew it was the right thing. Going to college out of state would’ve been too much for his anxiety and Roman was meant for more. He had such big goals, so many dreams to follow. The guy had gotten offered a full ride scholarship to the NYU TISH School of Performing Arts for crying out loud! Not only would Roman have been an idiot to turn it down, but Virgil would be a pretty crappy boyfriend if he let him.

He and Roman agreed that they were going to give the long distance thing a try. Their best friends had both come up with a list of ways to help too. Logan made a Skype schedule for them to follow that wouldn’t be too hard on their sleep habits (not that Virgil got much sleep anyways with his insomnia) but also gave them time to themselves. And Patton had suggested they go old school and write letters to each other weekly because it was ‘more intimate’ than just plain old texts, and it prevented the pitfall of excessive communication. They also found the cheapest prices and dates for flights between Florida and New York so they could take turns visiting during breaks. Virgil was touched by the effort, but he still couldn’t shake the fears that clouded his mind. He was more than willing to make it work and knew that Roman was too…

…But what if they grew apart despite their efforts to stay together? What if Roman got too busy with school and theater for Virgil? What if the long distance proved to be too much for them to handle, especially Virgil. What if Roman met someone more interesting and cheated on him? No! Roman never was and never would be the cheating type. But then what if Roman wanted to be with someone else but still stayed with Virgil and grew to resent him for it? What if they forget how much they care for each other? How were they supposed to remember if they wouldn’t see each other everyday, couldn’t hug or kiss or—

“Virgil darling, breathe!” said Roman.

The negative thoughts had snuck up on him so quickly. He only now realized how small his lungs felt. Oh great, his stupid anxiety was going to ruin their last night together! Suddenly Roman’s face was in front of him, the edges bleary. He heard Roman telling him to copy his breathing. In for 4, hold for 7, out for 8. In for 4, hold for 7, out for 8… Pretty soon he could feel his lungs again, see more clearly. After dating for so long Roman knew how to bring Virgil back from the brink. He swallowed down a big gulp of air.

“Feeling better?” Roman asked as he stroked his hair soothingly.

“Yeah…thanks Ro,” said Virgil. “That would’ve been a bad one.”

“Do you need a glass of water or something?”

“Nah…I’m okay now. Let’s just…get back to the movie.”

“Oh no you don’t. We’re going to talk about this first.” Roman picked up the remote and put the film on pause.

“I’m fine Roman. Seriously. Let. It. Go.”

“No, I am not going to ‘Let it Go’ ice queen,” Roman crossed his arms. “You nearly had a panic attack just now and I doubt it was from Lilo getting kidnapped by Captain Gantu. Something’s been on your mind all night, don’t think I haven’t noticed. So please Virge, talk to me. What’s troubling you?”

“You’re not gonna let this go, are you?”

“Do I ever?”

Virgil sighed. He just wanted to have one last perfect night with his love. But Roman was right. Talking it out did help sometimes, and since this had to do with their relationship, Roman deserved to know.

“It’s just…I’ve been thinking about…how this is gonna be the last night we’ll be together for a long while. And how—I mean—this is—we’re—argh!”

“You’re still worried about us being long distance.”

“More like scared shitless but yeah.”

“I understand, and that’s okay. Know why? Because we are going to stay together. Yes, this is a big change but it’s one that we can control. We’ll call and Skype and even try Patton’s idea of writing letters. Long distance relationships are hard but not impossible if true love is on its side.” Virgil rolled his eyes but Roman the romantic was undeterred. “Just look at my parents. Mom was all the way in San Francisco while Ma was over here, and look at them now. They made it work and so can we!”

“Until you find someone better than me.”

Shoot! Virgil hadn’t meant for that to slip out. But it was out there now. Ah geez, Roman must hate him for sure. Virgil couldn’t look him in the eye, didn’t deserve to.

“Virgil Burke, look at me,” Roman said, tilting Virgil’s chin up. “What do you see?”

“A big idiot?” asked Virgil teasingly.

“Your boyfriend.”

“Same thing.”

“And I think it’s fair to say that I, your boyfriend, am quite the catch, right? After all I’m talented, charming, handsome, popular, and it’s no secret that I caught many an eye back in high school. Frankly I could probably have any man I wanted—

“Get to the point Princy, ‘cuz so far this ain’t cheering me up!”

“My point is…I could easily be with someone else, but I’m not because you’re the only man I ever want to be with. My heart belongs to you.” To emphasis this, Roman took Virgil’s hand and held it over his heart. “I am yours and you are mine. Nothing and no one will ever change that. I won’t let it! And I know that you won’t either Virgil because you protect the things you love, including us. Remember that! Alright?”

As much as his anxiety kept telling him otherwise, he knew Roman was right. They’d already lasted longer as a couple than Virgil ever dared to hope they would. If they’ve come this far together, then maybe they could get through this next chapter as well. He looked up at Roman’s warm smiling face, saw the tenderness in his eyes, and somehow it was enough to mitigate the fears, at least a little bit.

“Alright,” said Virgil, hugging him around the waist. “Thanks babe.”

“Any time, my dark and stormy knight.” Roman hugged him back. “In fact…this is a perfect segue. Be right back!”

Roman let him go and practically leaped off the couch as he rushed into Virgil’s room down the hall. What the heck was that drama king up to? Still, Virgil couldn’t help but smile and shake his head. He was gonna miss his boyfriend’s spontaneity. He heard Roman exclaim aha from the other room and then he was back, carrying Virgil’s black acoustic guitar.

“I have a surprise for you. It’s something I’ve been working on for a while,” said Roman, sitting back down and positioning the guitar properly.

“Since when do you know how to play guitar?” he asked.

“Well, technically, I only know how to play one song. I’ve been teaching myself for the past month. Seriously, how do you deal with the blisters? My fingers have never hurt so much in my life!”

“Years of building up callouses Princy, no pain no gain.” In all seriousness though, Virgil was impressed. Not many people could learn a new instrument in a month.

“Yes, well, I wanted to give you something special. To show you how much…how much I love you, and that no amount of distance is going to change or make me forget that.”

No way. He was seriously about to be serenaded by Roman friggin’ Soldato?Virgil hadn’t even heard him play yet and already he was moved by the gesture.

“So. Ready to be wooed edge-lord?” Roman asked, wiggling his brows.

“Eh, I guess.” Virgil smirked at Roman’s offended scoff. “Kidding. Go ’head. Play that funky music white boy,”

Roman raised an eyebrow. “You know I’m half Puerto Rican, right?”

“Really? Huh.” That was news to him. Although it did explain how he knew Spanish. “What’s the other half?”

“Italian,” said Roman, adjusting the guitar clamp and testing the strings.

“Cool.” Even after two years together, Virgil was still learning new things about his boyfriend. Roman never ceased to amaze him.

“Out of curiosity, what are you?”

“An abomination,” he said, referencing the movie they were watching.

“True, but you’re my abomination.” They both laughed.

“Alright, hit it…mi amor.”

He smiled shyly at his boyfriend, trying to hide the heat that showed so obviously on his pale face. Virgil was happy to see that Roman’s olive toned cheeks were a shade or two redder as well. It was nice when he got to make the flamboyant boy flustered once in a while. Roman smiled back at him so warmly and began to play. The intro was familiar to Virgil. It was the main song from Coco. They had just watched it together for the first time last month. Roman had been reduced to a blubbering mess. Virgil on the other hand…okay he’d cried too, but come on. You’d have to be totally heartless not to.

And then, Roman sang.

“Remember me

Though I have to say goodbye

Remember me

Don’t let it make you cry

For even if I’m far away I hold you in my heart

I sing a secret song to you each night we are apart”

He couldn’t help the sigh that slipped from his lips. Virgil really did love Roman’s singing voice. It was just so…lovely. It could belt out powerhouse notes like a thunderstorm, but also be as soothing as whispering wind through summer leaves. Whenever Virgil had a particularly bad panic attack, Roman gently sang to him afterwards, all while stroking his hair and holding him in those strong protective arms. It was one of Virgil’s favorite things.

“Recuérdame

Aunque tenga que emigrar”

Virgil smirked. “Show off.”

“You know you love it. Recuérdame

Si mi guitarra oyes llorar

Ella con su triste canto te acompañará

Hasta que en mis brazos tú estés

Recuérdame”

Yeah, he did love it. And Roman. So much it choked him up sometimes, how much he could feel for just one person. And to have that same amazing man who should’ve been way out of his league not only feel the same but now show it by serenading him in Spanish…Virgil would never figure out how he got so lucky. And he didn’t care. For once, Virgil wanted to just enjoy something without letting his anxiety spoil it.

In typical Roman fashion, he added a little improve guitar flare in the break. He hit a couple of sour notes, but played through it with a sheepish grin (too adorable) and went into the next part, getting more of a groove into it.

“Que nuestra canción no deje de latir

Solo con tu amor yo puedo existir

Que nuestra canción no deje de latir

Solo con tu amor yo puedo existir

Recuérdame”

Virgil didn’t recognize this part from the film. Leave it to Roman to learn the full version of a Disney song, and in Spanish no less. Was there anything he couldn’t do?

“Si en tu mente vivo estoy

Recuérdame

Mis sueños yo te doy

Te llevo en mi corazón y te acompañaré

Unidos en nuestra canción

Contigo ahí estaré

Recuérdame”

Virgil didn’t know too much Spanish but he was able to understand a few of the words. It was something about Roman’s mind and heart. Like, he would carry Virgil with him wherever he’d go, even as far away as New York.

“Si sola crees estar

Recuérdame

Y mi cantar te irá a abrazaru

Aun en la distancia nunca vayas a olvidar

Que yo contigo siempre voy

Recuérdame”

Virgil felt Roman’s love for him pouring out of each note and guitar string, tugging at his own heartstrings. Felt Roman reassuring him through the song that they would always be in each other’s hearts. No amount of distance could change the bond they had. After all they’d been through, their love was too strong.

“If you close your eyes and let the music play

Keep our love alive, I’ll never fade away

Cierra tus ojos y que la musica fluya

Deja que el amor viva, nunca me desmayaré

If you close your eyes and let the music play

Keep our love alive, I’ll NE-VER fade awaaaay!”

That last belt felt as if Roman had basically ripped his own heart out and shoved it into Virgil’s hands. Any doubts and fears he’d had about keeping their relationship alive long distance ended right there. Virgil swallowed the lump in his throat, yet the tears streamed silently down his cheeks. He noticed that Roman’s eyes were getting watery too. Yet ever the performer he held through as he came to the last verse, slowing the melody back down to a lullaby.

“Remember me

For I will soon be gone

Remember me

And let the love we have live on

So know that I’m with you the only way that I can be

Until you’re in my arms agaaain

Reee-mem-berrr…me.”

The guitar fell gracelessly from Romans hands onto the ground with a clank, but Virgil couldn’t give a damn. He immediately wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, holding tight as Roman sobbed into his shoulder. Little known fact: the popular princely actor was an ugly crier. Full on water works, puffy face, and runny nose. Virgil was one of the few people Roman let himself cry in front of and Virgil took that honor seriously. He rubbed soothing circles on Roman’s back, rocking him as the normally steady boy soaked his sleeve in tears and snot.

It took a minute or two for Roman to calm down. He squeezed Virgil’s arm to let him know he was better now. Virgil let him sit back up but used his thumb to wipe away the last few tears.

“I’m sorry,” said Roman with a sniffle. “I didn’t mean to r-ruin the song—or d-drop your guitar—it’s just—

“Shhh. It’s okay. Forget about that.”

“No, it’s not okay. I wanted this to be perfect! I just,“ Roman let out a shuddered breath. “I know we’ll be okay. I know in my gut that you and I are meant to have a happily ever after, but I’m still…so scared! Not just about us but everything! This is all so BIG, and as excited as I am about this new adventure I’m still terrified because what if I’m not good enough? What if I’m out-done by all the other amazing performers at that school? I mean for the love of Hamilton, this is NEW YORK for crying out loud! What if I can’t handle the pressure? And I won’t have you there to lean on or reassure me or tell me straight to my face when I’m being ridiculous or laugh with me about the stupid drama and silliness going on and I-I’m just going to MISS you so—

Virgil cut off his babbling boyfriend with a desperate kiss, pouring all the love and pride he felt for Roman into it. He felt the other boy practically melt into him, matching his kiss with equal fervency. When they pulled back Virgil cupped his face and looked Roman dead into those gorgeous hazel eyes he loved so much.

“You’re amazing. You’re strong. You’re gonna blow them all away, so don’t you dare for a second doubt that! I loved the song Roman, and I love you.”

Roman gave a shuddered smiled and leaned into Virgil’s hand, covering it with his own. “I love you too Virgil. So, so much!”

Virgil smiled at his words. Then he leaned forward to pepper Roman’s face with gentle kisses. One on each eyelid, then on each cheek, one on his forehead, and finally another kiss on the lips; He loved how soft those lips were. Roman leaned in to deepen the kiss. The passion of it sent shivers down Virgil’s spine, and when they broke away both were left breathless. Roman pulled him close and just held him.

No place in the world felt safer or more like home than in Roman’s arms. Virgil rested his head on Roman’s broad chest, heard his heartbeat. Ordinarily he found it relaxing but tonight, knowing that Roman would be on a plane flying far away from him tomorrow, it set his blood aflame. He mourned the loss of warmth as Roman released him to pick back up the guitar and lean it gently against the wall.

“So,” said Roman, picking back up the remote, “shall we finish the movie?”

Virgil took the remote control from his hand and turned the TV off completely. He tossed it onto the coffee table, stood up and grabbed Roman’s hand.

“Forget the movie,” he said. “I’ve got a better idea.”

If this was going to be their last night alone together for a while, then Virgil wanted them to spend it wrapped in each other’s arms. Roman seemed to get the message as he let himself be tugged behind by Virgil towards the bedroom.

“Ooh, I like this idea,” Roman said with a devilishly handsome grin.

“Princy, I’m about to give you a night you’re gonna remember for a looog time.”

* * * * *

Virgil stifled a yawn. He was exhausted from the night before, but it had been worth it. Except now there was no delaying the inevitable. Logan and Patton had come early in the morning to say goodbye as well. Logan was his usual stoic self, but Virgil swore he saw a tear in the corner of his eye behind those glasses as he clasped Roman’s hand. As expected Patton was a bawling mess, and Logan practically had to pry his boyfriend off of Roman. At least Virgil still had them. They could all miss Roman together.

They were in the back seat of the SUV (his moms had let Virgil come along) driving to the airport. All of the actor’s bags were in the trunk and Roman’s Ma was singing along to an old Santana song while his Mom drove. Neither of the to-be college boys had spoken the entire ride. There was nothing to be said that hadn’t already been expressed last night. Virgil just savored the sensation of them holding hands, their fingers laced and his head resting in the crook of his boyfriend’s shoulder. Roman gave his hand a gentle squeeze and he smiled.

They got to the airport with the usual insanity and traffic. When they got to just outside of the security check, the farthest they could go without a ticket, the Soldato family said their goodbyes. Roman was sniffling just as much as his Mom, while his Ma practically squeezed the life out her son with one of her famous pick-up-off-the-ground-bear hugs (Virgil’s ribs had suffered it once or twice before). Afterwards they gave Virgil and Roman some privacy to say their own goodbyes.

“Well…this is it,” said Roman, gripping his suitcase handle. “Into the unknown.”

“Yeah,” said Virgil, tugging at the sleeve of his patchwork hoodie. “Call me as soon as you land, alright?”

“I will.”

“And make sure you check your dorm for bed bugs. It is New York after all.”

“Ew, but I shall.”

“And I know it’s like a right of passage or whatever but don’t go eating from the hot dog carts. You don’t know what kind of toxic crap they make ‘em with.”

“Well now you sound like Logan.”

“How dare you,” he deadpanned. “Seriously though Ro. Take care of yourself.

“I will. And you too Virge,” Roman smiled. “Don’t go skipping meals while I’m not there to remind you to eat.”

“Now you sound like Patton.”

They both laughed. God he loved Roman’s laugh, so warm and full of life. It won’t be the last time you hear it, he told himself. You’ll be together again soon and talk even sooner than that. They gave each other one last hug, holding onto each other for dear life. Then Roman leaned down to kiss him and Virgil kissed back with all the love he felt. They broke apart, foreheads touching, and just stayed that way for a while.

“Recuérdame Roman,” Virgil whispered.

“Para siempre mi corazón,” Roman whispered back.

Finally they let go. Roman did still have a flight to catch. He grabbed his suitcase and trudged to the security line, turning to blow one final kiss at Virgil. He waved back, smiling at his beloved boyfriend before turning to go. It took everything he had not to turn around and run back to Roman, but he had to, for both of their sakes.

Yes, it would be hard being apart, but they’d be okay. They would make it work and their relationship would stay just as strong, if not grow stronger. No matter how much Virgil’s stupid anxiety tried to tell him otherwise, no matter how far away or busy Roman might be for a little while, no matter the fears, nothing could make them forget how much they loved each other.

#My writing #fanfic #my fanfiction #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #fanders #sanders sides fandom #virgil sanders #roman sanders #prinxiety #pixar coco #remember me #so much fluff #onesot #KDsWriting #songfic #famders #sanders sides fic

242 notes · View notes

obvidalous · 6 years

Text

Drama king (you reap what you sow)

This one-shot is for my dear and amazingly talented friend, @seokanori , whose pics always inspire me!! I love them so much!!!

She gave me the backstory, and the gorgeous art you’ll find in the text is her work as well. You really should check out her blog, it’s fantastic!

She claims she is a drama queen… so I really wanted to give her the drama king of her darkest dreams. Let’s find out what would have happened if Sara never answered Reyes’ last email…

Warning: angst & injuries under the cut…

Looking for inspiration?

Oh, darling what have I done – The White Buffalo (“All my days have turned to darkness / And I believe my heart has turned to stone”)

Bang Bang – Nancy Sinatra (“He shot me down / I hit the ground / That awful sound / My baby shot me down”)

“Pathfinder? Are you there?”

Sara never heard such tension in the director’s voice, she can feel it even on the phone.

“I hear you, Tann. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He ignores the irony in her tone and sighs before answering.

“Ryder, you need to go to Kadara immediately. We have a… situation. Regarding the Collective.”

“Tann…” She shakes her head with annoyance, even if the salarian cannot see her. “Why don’t you ask Pathfinder Avitus? He’s been in charge of Govorkam system for over a year now.”

“Ryder, don’t you think that I would have asked him, if I could? I didn’t want to mention that on the phone, but… I’m sure you heard about the problems caused by the Collective? The kidnappings, the murders? Well, now they have surrounded Ditaeon. We’ve reached a dead-end. They threaten to attack if we don’t surrender and leave the planet immediately. Pathfinder Avitus had to run away after the last attempt of negotiations, which completely failed. They claimed they would kill him and his crew if they didn’t leave.”

“Then ask another Pathfinder to deal with it, or send Kandros and the whole cavalry. I have nothing to do with that, and I surely don’t want to.”

“I still have hopes to resolve this in a peaceful manner, Ryder. Apparently, the Charlatan refuses to speak to anyone but you. He specifically asked for you.”

“Come on! Don’t tell me that we accept demands from thieves and murderers, now? Tann, I won’t–”

“Ryder, this is an order. Turn back now and go to Kadara immediately. We cannot lose this outpost, so I’m counting on you. Tann, out.”

-----------

She doesn’t want to be here.

She strides through the port, with angry steps that prevent anyone to talk to her. She almost runs to the lift, hurrying her way down to the Slums and out to the Badlands. She knows she’s been followed since the moment she set foot on the ground. But as long as no one talks to her or tries to stop her, she decides to ignore the heavy eyes in her back.

When she crosses the fence, her omnitool rings at an incoming email from an unknown sender. She immediately recognizes the coordinates, and fury gains her. Angry butterflies shake her guts, and she clenches her fists to try to control herself.

At least, she doesn’t need the Nomad guidance system. She knows where she’s going.

And she already knows that it can’t possibly end well.

She enters the dark and silent cave, trying not to remember the last time she came here, and quickly moves toward the cavern further ahead. Nothing has changed. The amplified sound of her footsteps on the rocky ground breaks the silence, just like the day she came here with Sloane. Exception made that this time she’s alone, and painfully aware of who is waiting for her.

She finds him exactly where she assumed he would be. He’s waiting in the shadows, his back leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. She doesn’t spot him immediately; she hears him before she sees him. When she stops into the light, a few feet away from him, he suddenly speaks to her.

“Pathfinder… finally. I was wondering if you’d stop by.”

She cannot believe what she just heard. How many times had he greeted her with this line? How many stunning smiles had he thrown at her while saying the exact same words?

He gotta be kidding me… but alright, shady bastard. We both can play this game.

“Tsk tsk… I had forgotten how dramatic you could be. But your lines are getting a little old. I hope you’re better with a gun than with your mouth… I’d hate to think that you’ve gone soft during this last year, Charlatan.”

He chuckles. The sound sends nervous spikes in her stomach.

“The Pathfinder never loses her wit, does she? But you’re not as clever as you think you are… Otherwise you would never have agreed to come here. Not alone.”

He starts walking in circles around her, with slow, predatory steps. His right hand is lingering on his holster, gently stroking the butt of his gun. His gesture silently states the obvious – he’s threatening her. And his eyes are fixed on her. Dark, cold eyes, that she has never seen.

She doesn’t make a move. He seems disappointed to see her lack of reaction.

“You used to be more careful. I really thought that you’d have brought at least one of your precious companions to protect you. Are you not afraid of what I might do to you?”

“Cut the bullshit. I’m not afraid of you, I’ve never been and I surely won’t start now. What do you want, Reyes?”

“Don’t call me that.” Suddenly, there’s an unspeakable savagery in his tone. He hisses between his twisted lips. “Don’t you dare… calling me by my name.”

“So that’s what this is about? The torture, the killings? The outpost? Some silly revenge?”

He shakes his head. “No. This is not a revenge. And it surely ain’t silly. I did what I had to do to make sure that you’d be here, that you’d have no choice to come in person. I’ve been carefully planning this moment for months, you know. This is my way of saying that you and the Initiative can go the fuck away and leave this planet forever. We don’t want any of you here. Never again. The outpost is not yours anymore. It’s mine.”

She feels electric sparks going through her body. The fear, the anger, the resentment – they’re all too palpable. But she sets the feelings aside – she’s desperately seeking control, however close she is to lose it.

Their eyes are locked on each other. Sara knows that she urgently needs to connect to him, in a way or another. Otherwise she could lose more than just her life.

“Come on, you had me coming all the way down here just to tell me that? Maybe you plan on killing me, just like you killed Sloane, right here?” She points to the ground at her feet, in the middle of the cavern. “Or maybe you’d prefer to remember what we did after that?”

She’s not looking at him anymore. She walks right past him, ignoring the shiver down her spine when she hears him tightening the grip on his weapon. She walks right into the darkness of the cave, further in the quaking silence. She hears him hesitantly following her after a few seconds.

She turns to face him, her back on the wall. She notices that he now holds his gun in his hand.

“It happened right here. That’s where we found a way to make peace, not so long ago, remember? You asked me to come, and here I am. So, let’s discuss this. It’s not too late. Let’s find a way to resolve this peacefully. The Initiative will never leave the outpost, and you know it.”

He victoriously looks at her, with a hint of triumph in his grin that somehow reminds her of a wild beast.

“Funny that you still don’t get it… I brought you here because I wanted you to see. What you’ve done. This is on you, Pathfinder. You’re the only one to blame.”

His hand is steady when he slowly points his gun to her head. “I wanted you to know. The Collective has launched a massive attack on Ditaeon as we speak. I gave specific orders that nobody should come out of it alive. I told my men to kill them all, women and children and every fucking living soul. You have already lost your precious outpost. It’s too late for peace, now.”

His face is twisted with pure evil. He’s exulting at his own cruelty, delighting in the shock on her face.

“Then you’d better kill me too, asshole!”

“No. Oh, dear, no.” He’s mocking her, now. “Don’t rob me of the best part of my plan. I don’t want you dead… I want you to suffer. You’re gonna live with that on your conscience for the rest of your life. I know that this is gonna kill you. It’s gonna eat your soul, bit by bit.”

He smiles ferociously. Sara has no time to think; she raises her arms, blue electricity crackling all around her in a furious wave inflaming the air around. For an instant, she cannot help it, and she yells in frustration and anger, wrapped in a bubble of blue energy that she desperately tries to repress.

“I will kill you, Reyes!”, she growls with a barely contained rage. She cannot hold it anymore – a ray of energy runs across the room and hits the wall behind Reyes, missing his head by a few inches.

She sees it, then. She catches a short glimpse of hate and despair in his gaze. And fear, too. Time seems to stop for a mere second, stretching in the tense space between them, twisted by the confrontation of their hateful eyes. She sees it, right before it’s too late.

Nevertheless – when he shoots her, the sound tears her ears. It tears her heart.

She cannot believe it. She falls on her knees, then collapses on the ground when her legs give up under her. She lowers her gaze to her right arm, in shock, incredulously looking at the bloody hole that appeared beneath her shoulder. She feels no pain. The crimson bloom is growing fast, and yet she still doesn’t feel a thing. Only the aftermath of a predictable outcome.

“You… you shot me!” She’s panting.

“I warned you.” He smirks. “Don’t you ever say my name again. I should have killed you.”

“Fuck you, Reyes! I was trying not to hurt you, you fucking idiot! As stupid as it sounds, I don’t want to hurt you!”

He hesitates when he hears her words. During a tiny, evanescent moment, she catches on his face a brief peek of who he used to be, of the man she once knew. She sees all of it: hidden secrets and unspoken fears, secret hopes and feared realities. All the things he buried inside, for no one else to see.

It’s like a geyser of tormented feelings flooding over her, a soul bleeding its regrets like pouring rain.

The terrifying darkness leaves her breathless for half a second.

But it all disappears in an instant, vanishing into thin air. His eyes are now closed to her. And she knows it is forever so.

She knows she witnessed the last and frail remains of his humanity. She saw him closing the door, and she has no doubt that he will never open it again, not to her, not to anyone. She suffers for him, for the man that she once thought she could love. And that is now gone.

It’s all her fault. She can see it now. There’s nothing more she could say or do. No looking back.

So much for bonding times… she thinks with bitterness.

“I’ll never forgive you for what you’ve done.” Her throat is sore, and she swallows hard.

He doesn’t answer, so she gets up, leaving a bloody stain on the ground where she once kissed him. She sighs.

“I guess this is a farewell, then.” Her voice echoes softly on the walls of the cave. She makes a step toward him, but he raises his gun again.

“Go. Now. Before I change my mind and shoot you for good.”

“You know that we will see each other again, right? ... I won’t hesitate, then.”

“Neither will I.”

She turns away without a glance back, holding her bloody arm. But she still feels no pain. Only an excruciating regret.

As soon as she’s out of the cave, she jumps in the Nomad and calls the Tempest.

“Cora, call Tann immediately. Tell him… we’re at war.”

#me:a #mass effect #reyes vidal #sara ryder #f!reyder #mass effect andromeda #my writing #oneshot #seokanori

34 notes · View notes

blackwaterhq · 4 years

Photo

Name: Matthew Diaz Age: Twenty Pronouns: He/Him Species: Clairvoyant Faceclaim: tbd.

Prologue

You are Matthew Diaz, the son of Blackwater’s resident crazy lady. Your parents meet a year before you were born, when a carnival had stopped a few miles outside of Blackwater. Many of the locals headed over, including your parents. Your father, on a dare, visited the fortune teller who told him of a woman he would meet there that night. not believing it to be true, it only took an hour for him to bump into the woman who would become your mother, all while standing in line for a corndog. When asked about this, your father would never give merit to the fortune teller, merely chalking it up to a coincidence -- how unlikely is it that you would meet someone at a large event? -- but your mother was always serious in her accusations that the woman wasn’t a fraud. She had told your father about her own clairvoyant abilities and though it seemed far too out there for him, he didn’t show her doubt. Not long after, you were born.

You never saw anything wrong with your mother as a child and from the moment you were born, you were instantly attached to her. You would only settle for her, you would stop crying when she held you, and you were at your most calm when laying on her chest, sleeping soundly. Your father often joked that he was jealous of how you clung to her, that you two seemed to be cut from the same cloth, but it was always meant to be a joke. But for as happy as your family was, your mother would soon change her attitude towards everyone else in Blackwater. She would begin to say and speak of strange things, things that would some come true and cause many people concern. You had to grow up in this shadow, even if you knew, deep down, that your mother wasn’t a strange nor scary person. Even if you ended up with the same, strange powers.

Chapter I

Starting middle school showed you just how cruel kids could be. You were mocked because of who you mother was and even though you would go home crying, nothing could come from it. Your parents tried to make things better but Blackwater only had one middle school, they weren’t equipped to home school you, and whenever they spoke to your teachers, they claimed that there was nothing that could be done. It broke their hearts to know that no matter how times they attempted to make it easier for you, no one else was trying. The whole ordeal caused you to slowly resent the weirdness of your small town, of your mother, and so began the long process of slowly shunning everything that wasn’t normal or that couldn’t be explained by science. From that point onward, many people knew you as a strangely literal young child who didn’t enjoy games of pretend the way other children did.

You are six years old when you find yourself in the woods with five other children. None of you know what’s happening and days pass, one blurring into two until it’s been seven days before you see your parents again. Your father is relieved to have you home, shielding you from the prying eyes of the town, and while your mother is as doting as ever, she cannot help her own strangeness. Her talks of the event grow to concern people, she talks of it in a way no one should know about it, even going so far as to recall how she knew it would happen. Her talks mean you cannot escape it, no matter how hard you and your father try, and it all culminates in her being the prime suspect in the disappearance. She is arrested and questioned on many occasions and soon becomes the town pariah. Despite the guilt placed on her by the town, there is nothing to connect her but the strange ramblings, and she is always let go.

As a result, many of the adults in Blackwater do not treat her with the same polite silence they once had and the parents of the other six children grow suspicious of her. Though she is always cleared, they cannot help their distrust. And while you might become friends with the other six children, all of you flocking together, you find that you are always pulled away.

Chapter II

Growing older solidifies your thoughts on your strange town. You become a sceptic, just like your father, and refuse to think the strange things that happen are unnatural. Just like the town had once shunned your mother, you shun any and all theories over your kidnapping, over what oddities occur within the town. To you, the latter is merely something that can be explained away through science or logic while the former is an easy answers. Subscribing to the theory of Occam’s Razor, you mere believe that the perpetrator escaped town before they could be caught and you are happy with that explanation. It is the one that helps you rest at night.

In high school, you pull away from anything weird, devote yourself to various sciences, and become friends with people who are not connected to your past and who do not care for it. You pull away from the other five children, now teenagers, simply because they are all too weird for you to be friends with. Even as they try to talk to you, even as you try to let them in, you cannot handle the odd aura that follows them and you brush most of them off. You pretend you are better than them, above them, and it’s easy to become friends with other people that way. You don’t realise, until it’s too late, that you might have messed up something good by pushing them away. Selfishly, you do feel rather relieved as you watch in fighting cause them to crumble too.

But try as you might to escape your past, you can’t help but be strange yourself. You had never understood your mother’s abilities until, one night, you touch the old statue in the middle of the park and get glimpses of future events that will take place there. You don’t understand this vision and you merely chalk it up to your mind playing tricks on you, but it keeps happening. When you sit at the diner, brush someone’s shoulder, touch your father’s car -- you’re not sure how to explain it and when it comes to the point where it can’t be explained by any of your normal means, you do the only thing you can do. You block it all out, push it all down, and although you’re afraid to touch anything or anyone, you do everything you can to simply be normal. Because if you ignore it, it’ll has to go away, right?

Epilogue

After graduation, you decide to stay in Blackwater because you are comfortable there in the way that many people aren’t. You enjoy your life here and the companionship you’ve made in the process. You know going anywhere else means that you’ll have to start anew and you’ve already gotten yourself to the point where everyone just sees you as Matthew, and not one of the six kidnapped children or your mother’s son. Your life there is good, so why would you want to change it for any reason? As long as you pretend the weird signals and messages you get from the things you touch are nothing, then you have nothing to worry about.

When the letter arrives, you do read it and you do keep it, but you’re not quite sure what it means or why you should listen to a woman you don’t trust. You put it aside for a few days, intending on letting it gather dust until, one night, you get the urge to touch it. You do so, reading the words all over again, before you experience another one of your visions. It is too vague for you to truly know what’s going on but you can feel the sense of death and when you come to the next morning, you realise something bad has happened. It’s only a few hours later when you get the news about your former teacher’s death that you realise all three are connected -- the letter’s contents, her death, and whatever your abilities are.

But you don’t want to confront it, you don’t want your past to define you, so you will bury it all down and get through the next few weeks without a bringing attention to you or your powers.

Appendices

Layla ⇴ While you strive to be more than your past and you don’t enjoy connecting with those you know because of it, Layla is an exception to this. She might be the one you’re closest to, the one you enjoy talking to most, and that’s no little thing to you. Somehow, she managed to stick around in your life even as you pushed everyone else away and that’s no small feat. You know you have deep feelings for her and there has been many occasions when you have considered asking her to be your girlfriend, only to be reminded of why you never go through with it. You hate how obsessed she is with the past and wish she would find a way to let it go the way you have -- though she does make you question just how much you’ve let go. You wanted to bring this up the last time you saw her but you let it slide in favour of saying goodbye to her, the whole thing already being hard as it was. Now that you know she’s coming back to town, you’re hoping you’ve both matured enough that you can finally ask her out. Hopefully.

Cami ⇴ You are not exactly friends with her but she’s not someone you actively dislike either. For all intents and purposes, she’s the most normal of the six, aside from you, and you actually get along with her for that reason. You like to think that you don’t connect on the basis of your childhood trauma but more so on the other bad things you’ve experienced in your life. It was easy to bond over when you actually let yourself talk to her and now that you have begun to form a friendship, you find that she doesn’t bring up the past the same way you don’t and, instead, you two actually act like kids your age would, enjoying things young adults would. You feel as though you can confide in her but there are times when you worry you might let slip how you are not as normal as you seem and that could ruin everything.

Riley ⇴ Riley was never someone you paid much attention to while in high school. She was too weird for you and you didn’t want to get involved with someone who reminds you so much of your mother. But even as you turned your nose up at her, you can’t deny the soft spot you have for Riley and you know it has everything to do with your mother. Too often had you seen people bring her down and you had never been able to do anything about it. Now, you find that there has been plenty of times when you’ve told others to knock it off when they’ve made fun of her. Now that you’ve both graduated and gotten older, you think that, maybe, you could strike up a friendship with her and you’ve begun to try, even if it’s against everything you stand for. But even as you two are trying to wade in the murky waters of friendship, there will be times when you can’t handle her and you will say this to her ; it is a back and forth that leaves you both confused and hurt. You don’t mean to hurt her feelings but you can’t help but see your mother every time you look at her.

#matthew #c.

1 note · View note

my-mystic-messenger · 7 years

Note

Can you write a NSFW fic about MC being married to saeyoung but has an affair with saeran ? Like she loves them both and they also loves her too. How would saeran react when she kiss him for the first time when saeyoung wasn't around ? You can just ignore this if you're not comfortable writing this ^^

Are you kidding me? I am the type ofperson who’d happily ditch Saeyoung for his brother. Let’s dothis!

Fandom: Mystic MessengerRating: ExplicitWarnings: Cheating (?)Categories: F/MRelationships: MC x Saeyoun & MC x Seven (kinda)Word count: 3800

Despite having been the first one to lay my eyes on her,I never really saw her. Back then I’d been under Rika’sleadership, following her every word, obeying to her every command.There had been nothing in the world but her. She’d been my savour,the one that had shown me the light in all the darkness I’d falleninto. So when she’d send me out to find her another pawn to use forher big game of chess, I’d happily obliged. As long as it brought hera step closer to fulfilling her life wish, I would have done anythingfor her. I really thought I loved her, back then. That was, untilsomeone stepped into my life that taught me what love evenmeant.When I’d picked MC it hadn’t been because of any kindof personal preference. She’d been family-less, which meant that noone would miss her, between jobs and most importantly she’d shownkindness in different sorts of situations, which was necessary forwhat Rika had planned. In that moment, she’d been nothing but afaceless pawn to me. She just made it so easy, walking right into thetrap that I’d constructed for her. I watched her answer the messagesas I wrote them, following her through the streets and to Rika’s oldapartment. I knew it had surveillance cameras in it, which meant Icouldn’t just break in and steal the documents myself. A kind littlegirl, however, merely returning a phone would not pose athreat.What I hadn’t expected, over the course of spying onher, tormenting my brother and his little friends group, was that I’dgrow attached. Rika had given me a time limit to retrieve theinformation she needed, told me to blow the building up, if it tooktoo long. After all, she didn’t actually want the girl to use thatinformation for herself an the RFA. I wanted to obey, but anotherpart of me simply refused. I was torn, painfully so. It was agony andI found myself letting it out on her. I threatened her, came toattack her, texted her when I knew she was most vulnerable; all byherself in an unfamiliar apartment in the middle of the night. All ofit just to get a reaction out of her, make her suffer like she wasmaking me suffer.

Nothing worked. It was infuriating. Shemerely texted back before returning to the bed. MC didn’t seemdistressed nor scared. Even when I tried to kidnap her she’d merelybitten me and run off. Later on she’d been the one to help my brothersave me, despite everything I’d done to her, and even went as far asto tend to my wounds immediately and without hesitation. She didn’tflinch away from my touch and when I’d broken down MC hadn’thesitated to hug me, reassure me that all of this wasn’t my fault,that I wasn’t crazy nor broken. I hadn’t been hugged like that inyears and with every touch of hers, I felt myself giving in to thosenew feelings bubbling inside of me. I dare say it was that moment Istarted loving her.

Once my brother had forced me to live withhim after said incident things quickly started to change. It wasn’teasy to begin with; my nightmares were keeping me awake and Saeyoungdidn’t really know how to help me. He knew all that was electronicbut lacked in the human department. It was fine though, for thebetter part, as I’d finally been freed from the dark clutches of adevilish mistress only to reunite with my brother. I was happy to bealive, to be able to dream and have nightmares at all. Saeyoungdidn’t seem satisfied though and that is when things becamecomplicated. As it turned out, my brothers solution to everythingcompassion and emotion related was her. That day, she moved in withus.

I kept my distance for a long time. Notbecause I wanted to give them and their new, blossoming relationshipspace, but because I didn’t like having her around back then. I toldmyself it was jealousy, making me feel that way. I didn’t want toshare the brother I’d only just gotten back. In reality, I didn’ttrust myself enough not to betray that very same brother. I hatedseeing them together, catching glimpses of shared laughter and stolenkisses in the morning. My heart would ache in ways I’d never uteexperienced before and my entire day would feel just a little darker.Those feelings made me feel sick, for more than one reason. Notadmitting the truth to a friend, can be painfully hard. Not wantingto admit the truth to yourself, however, was simply excruciating.

Weeks passed like that; me watching mybrother fall more and more in love with the first woman I’ve everfelt a connection to. The one that every night would sit beside meand hold me as a shook with the nightmare still ringing within me. MCnever spoke during those, as it was not necessary. In fact, we didn’texchange many words over the weeks in general, which is not to say wedidn’t connect on a deeper level. I am a firm believer that actionsspeak louder than words and her actions spoke only for her. MC’skindness and compassion allowed me to finally come out of my shell.She never pushed, allowed me to take things one step at a time andjust like that I fell in love with a woman – the first woman I everfelt connected to – and I was not even allowed to pursue her. Oneweek later Saeyound asker for her hand in marriage. She said yes. Anhour later he asked me to be his best man. I said yes. One and thesame word spoken from two mouths and it had shattered my entire worldin minutes.

The next months passed in a blur. Somuch so I recall very little of them. There was a lot of planninginvolved, cheerful people congratulating the happy couple and a lotof swallowed down bitterness on my part. Luckily, since I was stillconsidered traumatized, people hadn’t expected me to smile or cheertoo much, which had been a blessing in disguise. When I stood besidemy brother at the altar and saw MC walk down the isle she took mybreath away. That is one of the most vivid memories I can recall. Iremember a tear rolling down my cheek as they’d said their finalsvows and how people had later on told me I was such a sweet andloving brother to be so happy for Saeyoung that I myself cried. Ihadn’t bothered to correct them.

People always tell you that time healsall wounds, that you move on and leave the pain behind eventually,right? Well, that is a lie. I never moved on and my wounds neverhealed. No matter how much I tried, I found myself falling deeperinto a pit of resentment. Myself, for having been to slow. Her, forhaving made me fall in love. My brother, because he’d taken the onething I ever desired before me. For a long time I forced myself toendure. I’d missed out on more than half a decade worth of ‘specialmoments’ with my brother and I wanted those back. Reality doesn’twork like that though. You can’t catch up with time and you can’toutrun it either. What’s past is past and there is no getting itback. It took me a long time of suffering through shared breakfastsand cuddling on the couch to understand that.

The brother I’donce known was gone. I couldn’t blame him. I wasn’t the brother heonce knew either and yet he took me in. Still, I found myself achingfor freedom. I’d been locked inside and unhappy for long enough. Icouldn’t watch them any longer as it killed a little more with everyinstance. One night, I decided to sneak out. I still had the code toRika’s old apartment and since the party was months away, MC rarelyused it. I didn’t have many belongings, so packing my stuff andleaving wasn’t hard nor dramatic. It was silent and unnoticed. Muchlike me, I suppose. What I hadn’t expected was a knock on the door ofRika’s apartment mere two hours later. I’d just taken care of thecamera, reprogramming it so it would show an old image of an emptyroom, as turning it off completely would raise suspicion.

I’d sighed then, already preparing forSaeyoung to give me a long, big brother and protector speech and dragme bag home. Instead I was met with big, teary eyes and a quiveringlip before a pair of gentle arms wrapped around my neck, holding meclose. I froze, surprised to see MC standing in front of me. However,I couldn’t resists the warmth for long, hesitantly wrapping my armsaround her slender frame, burying my face in her soft hair. Shesmelled so good, I never wanted to let go of her. Sadly, thatdecision was taken from me as she untangled herself from me, takingmy wrist and pulling me along as she began taking steps back, tellingme to come back home. I’d closed my eyes with a long sigh, pullingback my arm and letting it fall to my side.

“I can’t…”, I’d merely said asexplaining further would only worsen things. “I’ll be staying here,if that is alright with you.” I leaned against the open door,resting my forehead against the cold surface to calm my nerves. Sheneeded to leave or I’d find myself doing something I’d regret for therest of my life soon, I’d known even back then. I’d been tired, sadand vulnerable and she’d been my salvation. Self control had neverbeen my strong suit and she’d been testing it in that particularmoment. “It’s not alright with me”, she’d replied, voice highpitched and obviously upset. I’d never quite seen her like thatbefore. “You belong home with Seven. And me.”

Now that had gotten my attention. Whyhad she sounded so upset, so lonely as she’d spoken those words?She’d stepped closer again, reached out for grip the front of myshirt before closing the distance between us once more to bury herface in my chest, still holding onto me so delicately. “Pleasedon’t leave”, she’d sobbed and it had broken my heart and yet Icouldn’t help but be greedy with her, be selfish. “Why?” What didI want to hear? The truth that would hurt or a lie that would make mehappy?

“Because you always wake up aroundthree in the morning, so I usually get up earlier so I can wait foryou. That way you don’t have to be alone after yournightmares. That wayI can instantly wrap you in a blanket and keep you warm and safe buttonight…tonight you weren’t there and you weren’t in your room andMint Eye doesn’t exist anymore so I figured you were here and ohSaeran, I was so scared something had happened to you. How can you dothis to me?”

How indeed? In that moment I hadn’tbeen so sure myself. How had I gathered the strength to go, do theright thing, when the forbidden fruit was the sweetest. I wanted herso much my body was tearing from the inside out not to crave intothose desires. She was my brothers wife. Even without the rules ofMint Eye to guide me, I knew very well that desiring her, let aloneacting out on such thoughts, was great sin. I could not do that. Notbecause of myself, I would have gladly burned in hell for the chanceto give myself fully to MC, but because of her. She was an angel thatwalked earth and had to return to heaven some day, I was sure ofit.

“Why aren’t you answering me”, she cried, the firsttear running down her cheek. It made me want to kneel before her, begfor forgiveness. I couldn’t though. I knew it would be more hurtfulto admit to my shameful feelings than to let her cry it out. “Don’twe matter to you at all?” I found myself stepping forward, cuppingher face and brushing over her rosy, wet cheeks to wipe away thetears. “You’re all that matters to me.” The words had beenout of my mouth before I’d even registered them and it was too lateto take them back.

I’d sighed, shoulders slumping as Istepped away from her again, eyes closed as if it would make this allgo away somehow. “Please, MC, just go and -”, the rest of thesentence was silenced by her warm lips pressing against mine. Thekiss had come as such a shock, for the first couple of seconds Ihadn’t been able to return it. Once my brain had caught up though,all resistance inside of me had melted away and my arms had foundtheir way around the MC’s body. We held onto each other like ourlives depended on it and yet as if the other was the most delicatething in the entire world.

We hadn’t had sex that night. Insteadwe’d found our way to the bed, lying beside one another as we kissedand touched and explored without fully crossing the line that couldnever be uncrossed once passed. We’d both been aware that there wouldbe no going back from that moment on. This thing between us, whateverit might have been at the time, it was too intense and all consumingto ignore. It was merely a matter of time until we would give inentirely. That night marked the beginning of our intimaterelationship, which, despite all odds, was still going strong in thisvery moment, almost a year after our first kiss.

I hold her inmy arms, a peaceful, undisturbed and unrushed moment between just thetwo of us. Over the past couple of weeks those have become rare, asmy brother seems to be circling her like a hawk would his pray. Idon’t think he suspects anything, but we both know that in asituation like ours, it is much better to be safe than sorry. Ournaked bodies are interlaced below the warm covers. Her head isresting on my bare chest, listening to my heartbeat as she alwaysdoes after we make love. When I asked her once, what it was thatfascinated her so much about it, she’d replied with telling me thather power over my heart made her happy. It beat faster when sheexcited me and slowed to blissful relaxation whenever we held ontoone another like this. My heart truly was hers.With an armwrapped around her I held her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead,smiling to myself. “What is on your mind, love”, she asked,looking up at me with those innocent eyes. “You.” A simple yetfully honest answer. It was always her. It always would be. MCchuckled at my words, the sound that moved my heart to this day.“Other than me, silly. It’s always me when I ask.” I smirk downat her, brighter even. “Us. You and me”, I reply then. “Really?What is it that you think about then, when you think about us? Is itsomething nice? Something happy?” I nod. “I think about usrunning away. Far, far away where no one can find us ever again. Justyou and me. I think about asking you to marry me and how you’d sayyes. How we’d start a life together somewhere, maybe a family.”It’snot the first time we indulge in such fantasies. In a relationshiplike ours, fantasies are all we’ll ever have. What if’s are probablythe worst thing to ever cross a humans mind, and yet they were all wehad, so we made the best out of it, as we dreamed about those thingstogether. It wasn’t like we didn’t love each other enough to gothrough with it. We’d both agreed that it was an option. But MC lovedmy brother and I both and so did I. I could not betray him like that,steal away his loving bride and she could not abandon her best friendand husband. It was complicated, messy and hurtful, but we made itwork.

Suddenly she’s moving under the covers,climbing on top of me. Her hands are resting on my chest now as MClooks down at me, eyes shining with something so intense, love is notsufficient to describe it. Her hips begin to roll against mine oncemore and I can feel that she’s wet still, hungry still. Sometimes shecan be insatiable, seducing me many times a night. This isn’t one ofthose nights, however, not just about physical satisfaction. It’sabout being connected in the most intimate way human possible, beingone for even just a couple of minutes.

She reaches down between us, holds myerection between her tender fingers and sits down on it. No matterhow often we do this, the feeling of being able to sink into her wetwarmth overwhelms me every single time. Especially with such anintense chemistry in the room. I gasp quietly once I’m buried insideher fully. She smiles down at me, reaching out to caress my cheek asshe begins to roll her hips against mine. I turn my head to the side,press a kiss to her palm before looking back up at her. The view ismesmerizing and yet again I find myself incapable of lookingaway.

Her eyes are closed, head slightly thrown back with herhair cascading down her shoulders and back. She is almost entirelyquiet, other than the short, breathy pants and the occasional gasp. Idon’t mind. Sex doesn’t have to be loud to be passionate and good. Ifanything the way her cheeks redden and her lips are ever parted showsme just how much she is enjoying herself. I let my hands roam overher body, grips her by the hips and caress them before travelinghigher. Up her sides I move my hands to her breasts, holding them inmy hands and playing with her nipples. They instantly harden under myattention and MC bites down on her bottom lip to muffle any furthernoise.

I like having her on top of me likethat, her entire body bared to me to feast on its beauty. Her paleskin looks beautiful when it starts to flush with the strain of sexand orgasm, glistening with small pearls of sweat that formed in themoments of passion. I sit up from my lying position, craving thecloseness. We are eye to eye now, one of my arms wrapped around herwhile I cup her face with the other hand. She opens her eyes and theylock with my. Our pupils are blows, eyes half lidded with our facesso close our lips are always brushing together.

I beginthrusting into her then, slow but deliberate. We moan in unison,moving together in tandem to find out peak together. As we kiss,licking into each others mouth, tongues dancing together, mymovements become more desperate. I can feel myself growing closerwith every rock of my hips, her walls tightening around me onlyincreasing my pleasure. She knows how to pleasure me, how to havecontrol even when it is seemingly me. Mc break the kiss, a load moanfalling from her hips as I hit jus the right spot inside of her. Iwant to make her come before me, trailing kisses down her neck,nibbling at the sensitive skin the way I know she likes.

I can never leave marks and as much asthat thought pains me, I am glad to have her in my arms at all. Shecomes soon after, face buried in the crock of my neck, nails digginginto my back as her body shakes with orgasm, her walls tighteningaround my cock it takes me a mere handful of thrusts to follow herover the edge and spill inside of her. Once we’re both spent we fallback onto bed together, still slightly out of breath but happy andsated. Yet again my hand is brushing through her hair and her head isresting above my heart to listen to it slow down. I would have neverthought that I would enjoy routines. I wanted adventure when I wasyoung, constant adrenaline. Now I’m grown up and realize just howsilly those dreams were compared to what I want now.

Now I dream about settling down,leaving my former ‘adventurous’ life behind. I dream about settlingdown somewhere with a family home, a white picket fence and a littleharder. I dream about putting a ring on the finger of the woman Ilove, about building a family and maybe buying a dog. I dream abouthaving a job boring enough to be safe and safe enough to provide formy family and a routine that begins with waking up to one another andends with putting the kids to sleep. No matter how mundane my dreams,however, how seemingly reachable, they are still as unrealistic as medreaming about being a pirate or an astronaut.

When I was a kid, I wanted oneadrenaline rush after the other. Now I would do anything to be ableto give it up, because the adrenaline rush you get from fucking yourbrothers wife is not an adrenaline rush you will ever be able toenjoy. Especially when the punishment you get for such a sin is notsomething that awaits you in hell, but happens on earth. Every day Ihave to let her go and watch her walk back into his arms. I watch hersmile at him the way she smiled at me the night before. I watch themcook together in the afternoon and cuddle together in the evening.

My punishment is watching my twinbrother live the domestic bliss with the love of my life that I willnever ever have…and it kills me more with every day in ways thatnot even Rika did.

A/N: I do not condone cheating and you are a piece of shit if you ever do it in real life. No excuses. If you don’t like your partner anymore at least have the courtesy to break up with them before sleeping with someone else. Be polite.

#request #ficlet #headcanon #mystic messenger #mysme #mc x saeran #mc x 707 #saeran #saeran choi #unknown #707 #seven #saeyoung choi #luciel choi

152 notes · View notes