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ashreblogsnow · 3 years

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Two in one! (tanjiro x fem!reader)

(a/n) hi! so this is literally just an edited version of My Dr backstory in my Demon slayer dr so I'm very sorry if thats not your cup of tea or if this is to filled with drama lol, I'm a very dramatic and just generally angsty person.

italics are memories.

Warnings: bad writing, language, angst, crying, blood, memory loss, drama, made up magic for my own convenience, demons obvi, fluff, marriage talk, supernatural stuff, female reader, Hashira reader, incorrect spelling, ooc Tanjro (even thought this is what he is like in my Dr), Fem!reader

Reader pronouns: she/her

Word count: 2k

Both slayers are siting on the porch of a safe house after a hard fight.

Zenitsu, and Inosuke are inside healing and sleeping soundly.

It was 2 a.m, raining lightly.

"What's your sob story?" y/n questions.

"huh?" he turns to look at her face

"Why did you become a demon slayer I mean, everyone has a sad backstory."

"Oh, my family was killed by a demon. Nezuko was the only survivor, sort of. You know, cause she's an-uh demon." he rubbed his neck sheepishly.

"oh." she recognized him the second they made eye contact three days ago. this is exactly what she wanted to avoid. Him suffering because of her.

She should have taken him more seriously.

Damn it.

"What about you?" the sightly awkward silence was getting to him.

"I-uh-'ve been training to be a demon slayer since I was 10,"

"Family traditions and stuff, I didn't really take it seriously until final selection and even then I still underestimated demons-"

Maybe that's why she reeked of Heartbreak? he didn't smell it when he was in another room. only when he was around. did he remind her of someone?

That still leaves so many questions, why does she smell familiar? Why does she have a demon hiding in her honeysuckle scent? Why does she smell like him?

Even when they first saw each other she faintly smelled of him.

"Why do you smell like heartbreak"

That caught her off guard, huh guess he can smell trauma and emotions now.

Sighing she saw no point in lying.

"I was in love with a boy before all of this. We were best friends, I even snuck away from training to see him"

"It was going great, we were supposed to have a family, get married. As stated earlier though I didnt take my "job" seriously, after realizing what danger I was putting him in I-"

another sigh.

"I told him I was betrothed and couldn't see him again. I thought I was keeping him safe."

A laugh forced its way through her lips, (h/c) hair falling in her eyes, clinging to the new tears.

"then I ran into Kibutsuji. my dumbass didn't even know I had killed one of his top 3."

"What did he do?"

"Went after my ex-lovers family, killed them all except sister, Instead of killing her he turned her."

"what happened to him?" Tanjiro felt an odd similarity to his own past in her story.

"He forgot me, Muzan used ancient magic to make him forget me."

"That still doesn't tell me why you smell of a demon, *gasp* are you one secretly?"

"No, I used the same magic to turn me to a human after I got blood in a wound. It only worked because I hadn't eaten anyone yet and even then it only semi-worked"

He tilted his head in question, maybe this means how to turn Nezuko back!

"I heal like a demon and still have the benefits, not quite sure I can die which is a minus"

Her hands rested on her knees.

"How's that bad?"

"if you don't mind me asking" he saved it in fear he had overstepped.

"I have to watch anyone I meet die and before you ask, unless you know what demon attacked Nezuko and have its blood I can't help."

"oh, ill talk to her later I guess." he stated pushing himself off the ground.

"We should probably get some sleep."

"I'll be in soon." y/n assured him.

Nezuko huffed already cursing the evil being who caused her brothers happy ending to be ruined.

Once he was inside y/n spoke "You can come out now."

Nezuko steps out of her prickly bush.

The young demon slayer giggles.

"At least you remember me" y/n says embracing her

Nezuko simply nuzzled closer in response.

"God I hate demons-exsept you of course Nezuko I love you as both a human and a demon"

The pink eyed demon already drifting asleep, looked up at y/n to put one more thought into her mind.

'if you have the magic to give him his memories back why won't you?'

Y/n inhaled.

"I am the reason his family died. As kind as he is he could never forgive me for that, I ruined my chances of a life with him the second I failed to protect him."

"lets just get married alreaddddy" The girl whined clinging to his side tighter as he tried to walk away "y/n, we aren't even of age yet. I have to take care of my siblings and your have your secret job you won't even tell me about" he was gripping her arms now actively trying to shove her off.

"But tanjiroooo-"

"no buts" he finally pried her arms off. "I'll see you once you're done with your mysterious ritual"

"ITS NOT A RITUAL!" she shouted as he left.

"I'm betrothed."

"what?" it felt as though a stake had pierced his heart. like he was a vampire and garlic had just been shoved down his throat.

"I'm sorry, I don't think we will be able to see each other again" as much as the Meer idea of being permanently separated broke both of them to tiny pieces she must do everything she can to keep him safe.

She just...wasn't safe anymore, she had killed demons, people you name it, its blood was on her hands.

"but I love you y/n you can't do this... not to me. no-not to us?"

"there can't be an us anymore Tanjiro, it was foolish of us to think it would work out. you deserve better than me, you deserve someone who is just as kind as you"

"don't you get it!?!? I don't want anyone but you!"

"I-im sorry tanjiro."

She took off. leaving him crying under a cherry tree that would normally be considered elegant, but now it seemed droopy and blue.

Maybe. just maybe if she had protected him by not running away things would be fine. he wouldn't look at her and see a unfamiliar face.

"you wouldn't even be a demon slayer if we had just never met." tears were flowing again, her skin wetting.

The poor black and maroon haired boy was more confused than before, coming back to a crying y/n thinking aloud 'you wouldn't be a demon slayer if we hadn't met' who the hell is she talking about? since when was Nezuko so close with her?

he heard her whisper one thing to his sleeping sister before he ran to his room seeing her get up, not wanting to be caught.

"your family would still be here if it weren't for me, I'm so so sorry Nez"

The nickname triggered a brief vision.

"Nez get away from the sharp rock! you could cut your kimono!"

All he could see from his angle on the grass was a light blue kimono flowing In the wind seemingly belonging to the person chasing his little sister. It felt so warm. Not uncomfortably warm but the warm you feel when you kiss your lover or receive praise from your mother, but the vision ends just as quickly as it began.

Later that night

Tanjiro pov ig?

"-where are you?" Tanjiro was trying to sound serious but his chuckle gave him away.

"over here love"

i could see myself running down the mountain towards the voice.

'What in the world?'

I ran after him, or me? goodness this is confusing.

"I caught you!" Tanjiro shouted, running up to the young girl I don't exactly recognize. Is this some messed up fantasy of mine? about somebody I don't even know?

"well I wasn't running away or anything" she giggled leaning onto my shoulder, gazing into my eyes. they weren't like mine now, they held no pain.

I can see her now. she looks like y/n-, she has the same angelic (h/c) hair, (e/c) eyes sparkling, gaze filled with love.

'God Tanjiro you just met her don't be a creep.'

"Did Nezuko give you this?" he sat on the blanket next to her.

'thats nezukos signature but I've never seen that blanket'

"she said she made it just for me, a way of thanking me'"

"what was she thanking you for?"

"putting a smile on your face." they inched closer together until their lips met in the middle.

Gasping tanjiro clutched his chest.

Confusion again flooding his senses, overwhelming him.

He didn't see his family in his dreams, he saw a complete stranger. not even somebody he could call a friend showed up in his dream. kissing him. Considering that she was at the center of all his confusion he was seriously considering running to her room. But he quickly reconsidered and decided going to sleep was obviously the best option.

Y/n on the other hand was suffering through her usual nightmare.

"no...no....no...no..I-didnt mean to-"

"but you did"

"our blood is on your hands'

"you killed us"

she collapsed onto the ground, knees buckling.

she couldn't handle it again, she was falling apart. not even her fellows hashiras knew what was troubling the girl. to be fair how were they supposed to? she had been that for as long as they had known her unfortunate soul.

"was breaking my heart not enough?"

she lifted her gaze to see his shaky form, towering over her he continued.

"you had to kill them?"

"you choose them over me? over our happy ending? I thought we were each others forever y/n?"

it was black again.

she woke up similar to him but she wasn't caught off guard by the nightmare, the tragedy that was the demon attack on tanjiros family played in her head maybe more than it did in his.

She vividly remembered How her body shook with sobs as she was too late to do anything, to late to save them. She killed them. she thought he had been viciously devoured by his own sister as she had seen too many times to be considered uncommon. But Nezuko didn't eat him, she seemed as human as a demon could be.

Later

y/n sits on her bed. contemplating if it worth the trouble to wake Nezuko up for company.

while a very reckless idea it didn't seem terrible in the moment. gathering her blanket she treaded to tanjiro and nezukos room. her shoeless feet making her silent as a mouse except for the occasional squeaky board.

cracking the door she stalked inside the room towards Nezuko in the back corner.

"nez, do you want to go outside to catch fireflies?" how Nezuko managed to hear the question in her sleepy state was beyond both of them.

they both managed to tread to the glowing garden at the front of the property. the fireflies seemed to be dancing with blue butterflies. Nezuko dropped her hand giggling after the creatures.

"come back nez!" The Hashira shouted after her. Trying and failing to hold in her overflowing laughter.

"Nezuko you can't keep running away from me, its hide-and-seek not tag!"

"I have to hide again tanjiro will find me!"

"hes not even the seeker what do you mean!" the (h/c) haired girl chased after her even more as Nezuko once again sped up her movements.

"boo!"

Tanjiro jumped out from behind a tree tackling his dear sister to the ground tumbling down the mountain due to the sudden force. The snow clinging to both of the kamados faces.

eyes squeezed shut, y/n was on her knees too amused to notice just how far they were tumbling.

"TREE TREEEEEEE" y/n snapped out of her giggle fit hearing nezukos concerned squeals.

"if you hadn't taken me out and played the game right we wouldn't have hit that tree" Nezuko grumbled adjusting the wet rag on her head applying pressure to the bleeding gash on her head.

"Im sorry, I got hurt too you know." he rubbed his stomach as he had been hit in his middle body being forced to hug the tree, Nezuko had fallen backwards into the tree, still dazed from when they lost each other 7 feet away from the tree.

"can you stop stressing, what's done is done just let me make sure you don't need stitches."

#demon slayer #kamado tanjirō #tanjiro #tanjiro x reader #tanjirou x you #fanfic #fanfiction #angst #x reader angst #fluff #x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #nezuko #im too tired for this rn #im running out of tags #imagine #anime

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thisisarcanereverie · 3 years

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Should’ve Known Chapter 14

A/N: FINAL TIME SKIP. Also we are reaching the point now where there are only maybe 3 chapters left in this series but res assured I will be doing asks and will be writing small side shots to this series. Because I did leave a bunch of detail to the imagination. Also PLEASE INTERACT IT GIVES ME LIFE. Like seriously hearing active feedback on chapters really helps motivate writers like me to write.

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own Wanda or Steve they are owned by Marvel, I don’t own the gif either.

WARNINGS:Angst, Swearing, loss, dark themes, 18 + from here on out.

WORDS : 3,113

SUMMARY: Months turn into years and now the twins are six years old. Unexpected visitors arrive and things take an unexpected turn.

In case you missed last chapter

series masterlist

ULTIMATE MASTERLIST

Sunlight danced through the crack in the sheer curtains in your shared bedroom and glinted off of the ring on your finger.

Wanda couldn’t help but stare at you, appreciating every detail of your face, the way your nose twitches occasionally, the sound of soft breathing coming from you, and the rise and fall of your chest as you simply existed in this moment. She thanked every star she could that you existed. You changed her life for the better and she dreads to think of what life would have been like without you and the two beautiful children you gave birth to six years ago.

You kept her grounded, you and the kids made her feel loved like she hadn’t felt since Pietro was taken from her.

Wanda would be damned if she let anything take her family away from her again.

Wanda still had her nightmares, the scars left behind from Vision and from Pietro, her parents, and Agatha were still there. But thanks to you those scars became simply that, scars. Scars that were faded but would forever remain there.

However, as her old fears started to fade, new fears came to light.

Some nights she dreams that Agatha had been right, that Wanda only brought chaos and death. She dreams that you and the kids died horrifically like everyone else she had ever loved.

Other nights she dreams that she is the one who killed you. On those nights you spend hours combing your fingers through her hair and rubbing those familiar comforting circles on her back. Bringing her back to where she was now, that you and the kids were still alive.

Then there were those special nights when her dreams were sweet and full of love. Sometimes she’s reliving a happy memory with her family before the bombing, sometimes she dreams of Vision and sometimes it’s with two boys that she doesn’t recognize but she knows she loves. However, if she’s really lucky, she dreams of you. Wanda dreams of sitting on the porch with you, sipping steaming tea with honey, grey and white in your hair, but your eyes are as youthful and as full of love as ever. Wanda dreams that her hair is peppered in grey and white as well, wrinkles of time written on her face, and that in the end she had never been what Agatha claimed she was. the Scarlet Witch, the Harbinger of Chaos, the Destroyer of the World. She dreams that all of that was just myth and that in the end all Wanda was, was Wanda Maximoff.

Your wife.

Wanda feels the corners of her lips curl upward as she remembers proposing to you. She did it at home, she hid it in the popcorn and you nearly choked on the damn thing. After spitting the ring out Wanda had the worst case of butterflies she ever felt. Wanda knew that marriage was an off subject for you and you weren’t quite sure how you felt about it and Wanda respected that greatly. However, she wanted to let you know that if you ever change your mind, Wanda would gladly marry you whenever you wanted, be it fifty years or an hour. So long as she got to be with you in the end.

Wanda’s patience with you and the respect that she held for you and vice versa. You didn’t know you could fall even more in love with her.

You and Wanda had been happily married for three years now and it was safe to say this was the happiest either of you had ever been.

“Staring’s rude babe.” You muttered under your breath as your lashes fluttered before you fully opened your eyes. Taking in a brand new day in the same old world.

“Stop being so beautiful in the morning then I’ll stop.”

“Am I not beautiful any other time in the day?” You teased her.

“No,” Wanda said before starting to litter your face in soft kisses.

“You’re gorgeous in the afternoon,” Wanda whispered as she kissed your neck, nipping it slightly causing you to giggle. “You’re exquisite in the evening,” Wanda’s lips trails up your throat, her talented hands wandering as she did, “and you’re downright divine at midnight when the moonlight peaks through our curtains and bathes you in this silvery light.” Wanda’s lips are at the corner of your mouth now, your breathing now becoming hitched as Wanda’s lips are so far yet so close to your lips, “It’s at that time of day that I stare at you the longest.” Finally Wanda’s lips place a gentle but loving kiss on your lips. Her lips on yours never failed to make your heart flutter like it was the first time, fireworks and electricity running through you like wildfire.

Just as you were about to deepen the kiss you heard the door to your shared room slam open, tearing your lips from Wanda’s to see two small figures rush and jump on your and Wanda’s bed.

“Good Morning Mama and Mommy!” You heard the excited voices of your twins say. You and Wanda scooted aside to make room for the two already rambunctious twins in between you.

Steve immediately went to cuddle by your side while Scarlet went to Wanda. Even when the twins were infants they had a preferred parent that they naturally drifted to. For Scarlet it had been Wanda and for Steve it was you.

You looked at Wanda who looked at Scarlet like she was the world, in fairness she looked like that at Steve and you as well. And instead of scaring you, it felt nice. It warmed your heart to know that Wanda felt the same way, that the people in that room right there were your entire world.

Once the twins settled in between you, you and Wanda kissed the tops of their heads to which Steve giggled as you kissed raspberries on his cheeks.

“What’s on the agenda today little ones?” Wanda asked, Wanda often missed out on most of the day due to training with Strange. She’s gotten very proficient over the years at controlling her powers, Wanda’s learned more about herself and what she could do over the past six years and the more she learned the more frightened and amazed she was.

“We’re going to go pick raspberries to make jam and pies!” Scarlet said excitedly.

“Don’t forget,” You chimed in, booping your daughter's nose lightly with your index finger, causing her to giggle her bell like laughter, “that’s only after we finished our classwork today.”

Steve let out a groan while Scarlet seemed to buzz with excitement. Scarlet loved learning, and Steve did too although not as much as his sister.

You had been homeschooling them, for fear of the worst. You knew that they were young and the likeliness of their powers showing themselves when they were really young were slim. However, you knew that their existence alone would cause a tsunami of reporters and agents ready to probe them. You knew there was a chance that their powers may never come, however until you were certain you and Wanda thought it best to homeschool them.

It wasn’t bad, you took them to the park for them to play with kids their own age. After all, Nat did teach you the best way of hiding was in plain sight and acting naturally.

---

You and the kids had just got done with school work for the day when you grabbed three baskets and headed to the raspberry bushes in the garden. Wanda had cast a spell on the bushes to make them grow raspberries anytime in the year.

You laughed and watched lovingly as the kids ran around the yard playing tag. You counted your blessings that they got along with each other, maybe all the Sokovian whispers to your belly had done something after all.

You gathered the three baskets of raspberries and brought them back inside. You washed the raspberries at the sink and occasionally checked outside the kitchen window to make sure that they were alright.

After cleaning the raspberries you fixed them with a snack of apple slices and celery. You went on the porch to call them in when a vision of red, white and blue caught your eye.

the Shield.

It brings you back to Steve, his baby blues and his smiles and Tony’s funeral.

You had heard what happened in New York with the Flagsmashers all those years ago and you would have gotten involved had you not been heavily pregnant at the time.

You're brought back to the present when the Star Spangled Man with a Plan (now upgraded with wings) asks your twins where their mom was.

“Sam...” You say, the tall man turned to you and it was then you see that he wasn’t alone. You don’t know how you could have missed the roaring of the motorcycle in the yard and the other tall man. “Bucky....”

The men walked toward you while the twins ran.

“Mommy! Mommy! There are people here to see you.” They say at the same time, it wasn’t very often that you had company, much less unexpected company.

“I see that,” You said evenly, keeping your face straight as the two men in front of you widened their eyes in realization. You tear your eyes away from them and to the two children in front of you and you knelt down to their height. “Why don’t you two go inside and play while Mommy talks to these gentlemen for a second.”

“Do you know who they are?” Lettie asked curiously, her eyes scanning the men.

“Do we get to meet them?” Steve asked excitedly, looking amazed at Bucky’s metal arm.

“I’ll let you know that in a second, but for right now go inside and play.” You said firmly, the twins waved goodbye to the men before heading inside. You waited until you heard the door close behind them to walk toward the men in front of you.

“Boys,” You greeted motioning the porch chairs on the other side, “take a seat.”

Sam and Bucky listened and sat down.

“Do you want a drink?” You asked, arms crossed.

“Got anything strong?” Bucky asked. His eyes are not meeting yours.

“It’s Scotland and I am a mom to twins,” You pointed out, “of course I do.”

“I’ll take that then.” Bucky said, you looked at Sam who simply shook his head. You went in and grabbed the only bottle of Whiskey and a glass.

By the time you gave Bucky the whiskey they seemed to have processed what they just saw. Sam looked at you with pity and concern, meanwhile Bucky looked off in the distance, anger radiated off of him in waves.

“Are they Steve’s?” Sam asked. You simply nodded.

“I only found out a month or so after the funeral,” You revealed, “I didn’t even know I was going to go through with the pregnancy until the events of Westview happened.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“The less people that know the safer they are,” You explained, “I wanted to tell you.”

“But you didn’t” Bucky chimed in, his voice was shaky and his grip on the glass tightened.

“They’re the children of the former Captain America and Sargent Steel,” You said, “I have to keep the people who know about them tight and few.”

“Who all knows?” Sam asked.

“Director Fury, Director Rambaue, Pepper, Strange, Wong-”

“Does your husband know?” Bucky interrupted. Sam looked confused before he noticed the subtle wedding ring on your left hand.

“Holy shit you got married.” Sam said, astonished.

“Yes I am,” You confirmed feeling slightly awkward since it only took you this long to realize that you never officially came out to them.

“My wife knows.” You said vaguely, you see both of the men's eyes widen in shock. Sam recovered faster than Bucky who took another drink from his whiskey.

“Who’s the lucky girl?” Sam asked.

“That would be me.”

You all turn your heads to your wife, still clad in her Scarlet Witch form. If it wasn’t for the fact that you had company you know your lips would be all over her by now.

She winks your way and you flush. Wanda didn’t need to read your mind to know exactly what you were thinking.

“Hold up,” Sam said, “You married her?!”

“Yup.” You confirmed as her form sat down next to you and grasped your hand.

“How long has this been a thing?” Bucky spoke for the first time in a while.

“Why do you need to know?” Wanda asked, her hand firmly holding yours. Bucky held his hands up in surrender before taking one last swig from his glass.

“The bottom line is, only Wanda and the rest know, and I guess now you two do as well.” You said. There was a long pause of silence, before Sam spoke.

“I won’t say anything.” Sam said finally, before nudging Bucky out of his staring spell.

“Boys,” You call out as you see that they’re about to leave.

“I truly am sorry you had to find out this way, but I was only doing what I thought would keep them safe, and now that you know you’re free to visit them anytime.... It would be good for them to finally meet their fathers old friends.” You said. You see Sam and Bucky nod, you reach out for a handshake only to be pulled into a firm hug by Sam.

“I understand Sarg, you only did what you thought was best.” Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you returned the hug. Bucky still couldn’t look at you.

You knew that you had broken his trust and you would work on getting it back. You just hoped that whatever grudges he had against you wouldn’t stop him from forming a bond with the kids.

After Sam lets you go Bucky surprises you with a hug as well, his beefy arms encasing you firmly.

“We’ll be visiting again soon.” Bucky promises as he lets you go and shakes goes to shake Wanda’s hand.

“Wait,” You say as Bucky already is making his way to his motorcycle and Sam prepares for flight.

“Yeah?” Sam replies.

“There’s one thing I don’t get,” you said, “what brought you guys here?”

Sam paused for a second before replying.

“I was just flying overhead, Bucky and I got word that there might’ve been an abandoned HYDRA base here but, turned out to be a faulty tip.” Sam said before saying his final goodbyes as he lifts off into the air and Bucky peels out of the driveway.

“He was lying.” Wanda says, her eyes giving off a faint red glow.

“I know.” You say, Sam’s pulse jumped when he spoke about the abandoned HYDRA base. You softly grab her hand and bring it to your lips, planting a small peck to the back of it.

Wordlessly you walked hand in hand with Wanda through the front doors and continued with the regular evening schedule.

You and Wanda made dinner as the kids helped set the table and talked about the day. The kids asked questions about who the men were and you and Wanda answered as best as you could without giving them the full truth. Which was surprisingly more difficult. Eventually dinner ended and while Wanda got the kids ready for bed it was your turn for dishes. After dishes were washed and rinsed you let them air dry in the rack and went to tuck in the twins with Wanda.

Wanda and you kissed their heads goodnight and then proceeded to the couch.

Just as you made your way to the couch you noticed Wanda standing still.

“Wands, what's wrong?” You asked, reaching out to her.

“Nothing it’s just,” Wanda started as she played with her hands, “I have a bad feeling, like something is about to happen.”

“Come sit on the couch and talk me through it.” You say as you lead her to the well loved couch. You and Wanda sit and immediately fall into the position you always do, her leaning into you and your arm swung around her shoulders. Wanda had long since transformed out of her Scarlet Witch form but she still looked magical to you. Her fiery locks cascading down her dainty shoulders and just a hint of sparkle on her cheeks remained. You felt Wanda give a deep sigh before speaking.

“I don’t know what it is, it’s not anything deadly but it fills me with dread just the same.” Wanda said with her green hues giving off a faraway look, “something is about to happen and I don’t know what it is.”

“Whatever happens,” you say, maneuvering her so that way she faces you, “we’ll face it like we’ve done most things. Together.” You press your forehead to hers and let your eyelids flutter shut and Wanda follows suit.

“Together.” Wanda whispers back as she finally closes the gap between you in a promise like kiss.

---

“Buck don’t do this,” Sam tried to stop the centurion. Over the course of six years the two men had grown close and eventually Sam had earned the privilege of calling the taller man Buck.

“He has the right to know.” Bucky responded, icy eyes focused solely on the communicator that their mutual friend gave them for ‘universe level threat emergencies only’

“We promised her we wouldn’t tell anyone Buck.”

“No,” the Brooklyn man gruffed, “you promised her you wouldn’t tell anyone. I didn’t promise shit. So don’t worry your pretty little head about breaking your promises.”

“First off thank you for finally admitting that I’m pretty,” Sam said before attempting to snatch the communicator and failing. “Second off, we should’ve told her the truth from the start. Instead of leaving puzzle pieces to put together.”

“She had plenty of puzzle pieces. It's not our fault she didn’t put them together.” Bucky said not looking the man in the eye, “He left her a message on the phone and a message in the personal notebook. It’s not ou-”

“If you’re going to say not our fault again I’m going to slap you.” Sam interrupted. “You know damn well that (Y/n) was as strong as steel, but Nat and Tony’s deaths wore her down, but HE was the breaking point. HE fucked up man, HE has to live with that and THAT’S NOT our job to help him make up for that.”

Just when Bucky starts to reconsider, the communicator beeped.

MESSAGE SENT - - - MESSAGE RECEIVED - - - MESSAGE INBOX (1)

- ON MY WAY_CSGR

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximov #wanda marvel #the scarlet witch #scarlet witch x reader #lgbt pride #Bucky Barnes #sam wilson #sam x bucky #steve rogers x reader #Steve Rogers #should've known #part 14 #MCU #Marvel MCU #Elizabeth Olsen

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gwynrielsupremacy · 3 years

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Time to rest your weary head: Part 13!

IT TOOK ME LONG ENOUGH, but it is here!!! As I explained before, I was facing the last weeks of my semester, delivering final papers and such, but now I'm freee!!!! I thank you all for your patience and eternal support, really <3 hope you like this one! :)))

Also tagging some of my beautiful readers <3 @madie2200 @katiebellf @starbornsinger

Last thing: I wanna leave here my praise to all fic writers and fanfiction and headcanons I had the pleasure of reading on this website; you all inspire me so much, and I’m glad to say I am a part of such a beautiful net of sharing and reading other’s stories :) you are awesome and you inspire me to keep on writing! Thank you :)

Check out the Chapter List and Part 12 if you haven't read it yet!

It was late, but Azriel didn’t mind. He felt like he could explode: like all of a sudden, all his life made much more sense.

He had a mate.

That mate was Gwyn.

And Gwyn had kissed him.

As he jumped off the balcony at the House of Wind, diving fast before soaring, he couldn’t contain his grin. His heart hadn’t stopped thundering in his chest ever since he got to her door. They kissed, and he sensed her affection and desire as sure as she had felt his. He held her in his arms, just like he had that night all those weeks ago. And he had missed so badly doing so, he realized the second he felt her hand on his cheek, caressing him in a way no one ever had, before she enlaced her arms behind his neck.

He felt like a teenager, his Ilyrian hormones pumping through his body, making him restless and euphoric. He wanted so bad to go back, to just stay with her, to make up any excuse to see her, to wake her up, to lay down with her. To spend every second he had right next to her, learning all the different ways he could make her glow.

For so long, he deemed himself worthless; tainted and scarred and damaged. But now he could see that perhaps that wasn’t true. He was hurt, but he could heal; everyone had a past, and it shouldn’t prevent them from living their present. And Gwyn… She was the reason he started believing that. That he had hope left, and that maybe…. Maybe he could care about himself just like others cared about him.

It took a second to realize he was crying. Alone, just him and his shadows, as he soared and spun across the night sky, he was crying. Sobbing and laughing uncontrollably at the same time. He breathed in and out, trying to calm his racing heart, but he still let the tears flow; he still kept smiling, the image of Gwyn’s face never fading from his mind.

Feeling the cold wind across his face, he landed on the pathway to the River House. It was all dark, but he could see a dim light from one of the windows. Rhys’s study.

Rhys. He lowered his mental shields enough so he could voice his brother’s name. Are you there?

Silence, before Rhys’s voice sounded. Yes. Are you alright?

I need to talk to you. May I come in?

He heard footsteps approaching the front door, and then Rhysand was staring at him, violet eyes dark in the dim light. “Come in, brother.”

He was greeted by the image of Nesta facing him, that huge portrait that Feyre had painted some time ago, after The Blood Rite. The house was silent, and all he could hear was his steps as he followed Rhysand to his study.

When he closed the door, Rhysand had just sat down at his armchair.

“Are Feyre and Nyx asleep?”

“Fortunately. The kid’s been having some trouble sleeping these last few months, therefore so have we.” He snorted, but smiled fondly at the thought of his family. “Sit down, Az.”

He obliged, and felt the way Rhys sized him up, trying to decipher what was going on with him. And although Azriel’s expression yielded nothing, he didn’t make an effort to wipe away his tears from before; so his brother was probably putting up the pieces together by now.

Azriel didn’t leave enough time for him to do so, as he again talked to him mentally.

Gwyn is my mate. But I reckon you already know that.

I do. I suppose it didn’t go well, then.

And Cauldron-damn him if he didn’t start laughing at that. And not a bitter one, but a true, genuine chuckle that made Rhys’s brows shot up and a bemused smile appeared on his face.

“It went more than well, actually.” Azriel corrected, shaking his head as he looked to the ground, still smiling. “And that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh?” His brother shifted in his seat, resting his elbows in his knees and interlocking his fingers.

So Azriel explained what Rhys needed to do for them. He honestly didn’t care if his family knew or not about their mating bond, but was well aware Gwyn might need some time to adjust – and the required privacy to do so. And that was fine with him; as long as he was able to spend time with her, he’d be happy. In any way she wanted.

When he was finished, they stood in silence for a couple of seconds.

“So, I see you have your shot at happiness in your hands at last, brother.” Rhysand stated, with a knowing smile on his face.

“I do.”

“She was very good at refraining from telling you. Of course, I didn’t mean to pry when I found out. But do you know why I read her thoughts that night?”

Azriel shook his head, and watched as his brother declared with a low tone.

“She was just sitting there, in a midst of people whom she didn’t have familiarity with, and you were by your usual spot, talking to Mor. And she was just staring at you, eyes full of an emotion I couldn’t decipher, but I knew what that gesture meant. She couldn’t keep herself from looking at you, just as you couldn’t stop from glancing at her time and time again during the evening: like you were drawn to each other. I was going to ask her if she needed to talk about it, though I knew it was none of my business and she was unlikely to do so, but then I read her thoughts about you being mates.”

“That’s why I didn’t meddle in. I was witnessing something way bigger than me, and I think you know what I mean.” He finished, and completed “That’s why I - and Feyre - kept quiet about it.”

All Azriel could do was laugh quietly again at the mention of his High Lady. “Of course she’d know.”

“My dear brother, I learned by experience you shouldn’t keep things from your mate, even if it is to protect them. You're supposed to walk through it together.” Regret crossed Rhysand’s face at that confession.

Azriel knew that although his brother claimed to hide the details of Feyre’s pregnancy from her not to worry her, it wasn’t exactly fair all the same.

“But I’m certain you’ll learn that with time.” He completed, leaning over to pat Azriel on his knee. “So, don’t worry. I will do as you ask.”

Azriel nodded his thanks and stood up, meaning to leave. But, just as he was reaching the door, a thought occurred and he turned again to his High Lord.

“Rhys” He kept sitting on his chair, staring at him expectantly “It took me long enough to realize, but I’m glad you stopped me that Solstice night.”

Rhysand let out a soft chuckle at that, and bowed his head slightly, raising his glass. Knowing well what Azriel had meant with that.

****

His shadows were restless. He barely slept during the rest of the evening, his mind too awake to give in to slumber. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was slightly nervous to see Gwyn again – and to see if they’re new acknowledged bond would stand out or if Rhysand’s spell would work. He wouldn’t doubt of his High Lord and brother, but still. He wanted to see it for himself.

He stood in the training ring ever since sunrise. Gwyn had gone to her usual morning service and he hadn’t seen her, only felt her absence in the House, both an effect from the mating bond and his shadows, since they were so eager to be around her. So he sparred for hours, waiting for the moment training began and he would see her again.

The priestesses started to arrive right about the time Cassian showed up.

“Morning, brother”

Azriel nodded back, and turned to arrange the practice swords and shields into place, preparing the room.

“How was last night?”

He could sense Cassian’s presence behind him, and the innuendo in his sly tone. Gwyn’s image appeared in his mind once again, her burgundy dress complimenting her body’s every feature. He could feel her in his arms, their proximity and heat, the way he kissed her with all need and tenderness he ever felt towards her, the small sound she made when he pulled her close, pressing their bodies together… He was cut short from his thoughts when Cassian cleared his throat, suppressing a laugh.

“I can scent everything went well, then.”

Fuck.

He started thinking about other things, anything at all, to cover his desiring scent. It wasn’t professional nor respectful to appear that way in front of the Priestesses, even though Cassian and Nesta didn’t seem to mind covering their own arousal multiple times during all these months.

It was right at that moment Cassian’s mate and Gwyn arrived, their voices filling up the air. Azriel was still with his back to the door, and counted a total of five seconds before turning around and facing the deep teal ocean that were Gwyn’s eyes.

Like the seas in Reyna.

His shadows whispered one of Summer Court’s many beaches, the quietest, most isolated and beautiful one. Azriel felt a subtle need to take her there someday, to travel around Prythian with her, to watch her explore and discover the continent, her face lighting up with each new sight.

He casually approached the two females, who were still talking while they began their stretching on the mats.

“Good morning.” He let out, dipping his head a bit.

“Hello.” Gwyn greeted back, meeting his eyes. He watched as she breathed, noticing every detail of her exposed neck and freckled cheeks before meeting her eyes. It was a monumental effort to not scan her entire body and take in all of her curves. She seemed to notice that, and with a thrilling sensation he watched her face blush.

“Good morning to you too, Azriel” Nesta mocked, interrupting their charged silence. “Did you enjoy your evening?”

She directed this particular question to both of them. Gwyn finally tore her eyes away from Azriel, doing nothing to conceal her flushed cheeks.

“Yes.” She nodded a bit timidly, biting down her lip to keep her from smiling further, and met her friend’s inquisitive stare with a sparkle that almost sent Azriel to his knees.

Damn. That female would be the death of him.

“We did indeed.” Azriel found himself agreeing, his voice rough all of a sudden. His shadows reached towards Gwyn, desperately trying to turn her attention to him, to them. He wanted to be lost in those teal eyes again, to be alone with her.

“I’m glad to hear that, Gwyn.” Nesta smiled kindly to Gwyn, honesty and pride in her tone. “Although you’re aware you’ll have to give me more details later.”

Gwyn rolled her eyes but smiled anyway, continuing her warm-up exercises while Nesta stood up. As she went on to stretch her thigh, holding it behind her back, she leaned on Azriel, placing one hand on his shoulder to steady herself and taking advantage of the situation by voicing quietly:

“You hurt my sister and I’ll make you regret it, Spymaster.”

His shadows protectively wrapped around his shoulders, but he was well accustomed to Nesta and they had developed a great friendship after all those months. He could always understand and read through her pain and aggressiveness, even when others didn’t. He did believe her words, though. She, pretty much like him, would do anything to protect the ones she loved.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He nodded once, staring into her piercing eyes, and she patted his shoulder once, seeming satisfied with his answer, before pushing back and striding towards Cassian.

Gwyn kept stretching on the floor, but he could see she heard everything they said by her amused smile as she watched her friend walking away. Azriel reached his hand towards her, and she faced him again and grabbed it, helping herself up.

They were standing face to face now, hands still intertwined. He could hear Cassian and Nesta organizing the Priestesses in the background, the rustle of robes and training leathers as they moved across the training ring. But he couldn’t care less, not when he was holding his mate’s hand, face mere inches from hers.

“It seems you just got intimated by Nesta, huh?” She teased.

He shrugged: “It’s nothing to which I’m not used to by now.”

She chuckled, her eyes crinkling and her voice a sweet melody to his ears. He couldn’t stop but join her, with a quiet laugh. He could feel both Cassian and Nesta’s stare on them, observing their every move. It didn’t seem like the couple caught up on the scent of their mating bond, even though that faint chill mist mixed with water lilies, the combination of him and her, was currently inebriating his senses.

“Could we see each other later today?” Gwyn surprised him by asking, her big bright eyes waiting expectantly for him to answer.

She took a sudden breath, like she was trying to capture the new scent they shared as well, and Azriel found his lips blooming into a smile, both at the thought and at the request:

“I’d love to.”

She beamed “You can meet me at the library, if you are free.”

Gods, she was stunning. He couldn’t stop counting her freckles, observing the way her ponytail twirled behind her back, marveling at how warm her hand felt against his. What a strange and powerful feeling, he thought; to miss someone with that intensity, to desire more than anything to be close to them at all times.

And Azriel wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I’ll be there.”

***

And so he went. After successfully ignoring most of Cassian and Nesta’s teasing remarks through training and lunch, none of them, however, related to the mating bond, Azriel found himself heading towards the library.

He was greeted by Clotho as soon as he entered the space, her magic pen already moving.

Good afternoon, Azriel. What can I do for you?

“I’m looking for Gwyn.” He cordially bowed his head to the Priestess.

Do you want me to call her?

“Thank you, but there is no need. If you could just tell me in which section she is I’ll meet her there, if that’s ok.”

“Ancient hymns and rituals”, third floor down to the right. You’ll find her.

He swore something about the way that magic pen swirled at the last sentence had a tinge of cheekiness, mischief even. So he gave Clotho a soft smile and went into the depths of the library, descending the stars and carefully avoiding staring directly at any Priestess that walked by, only greeting quietly the ones he knew from training.

As usual, his shadows kept swirling faster and faster with each step closer to Gwyn, excited at the prospect of being alone with her. Well, not alone entirely, but Azriel didn’t particularly care at the moment. He knew the curious eyes directed at them would be much more discreet than the ones at training – or anywhere else, for a matter of fact.

He could hear her before he saw her, humming softly as she labeled and stored a few books back on their spots. His heart thrummed against his chest, and he leaned on a shelf across from where she stood, still absorbed in her task, humming the same sweet melody over and over again.

Before he managed to say anything, one of his shadows darted to touch her hand, and her eyes lifted from the book she was holding and met his, her mouth quirked to the side.

“How long have you been there?” She put down the book and crossed her arms in front of her chest, lifting an eyebrow.

His shadows had encapsulated her shoulders and hair now, in a way that she seemed to be the Shadowsinger, and not him. He commanded them to get back to their places, but in vain. He honestly didn’t know why he even tried anymore.

“Not long.” He finally pushed away from his place by the shelf and stepped towards her, while she did the same.

He grabbed her hand, his thumb feeling her soft skin. His shadows encircled them both now, creating a dark cloud in an already dim-lit room. Gwyn laughed at them; curiously following their patterns with her eyes, hand still intertwined with his.

“They never did that before, with anyone.” Azriel observed the way his shadows expanded and darkened around and above them.

“Well, as you said before, they like me. If I were you, I’d be worried they might run away and come to me. I wouldn’t mind at all. Curious little things.”

When he faced her again she was staring at him with such intent he drew a ragged breath, mind focusing only on the female before him. The poor lighting of this particular hallway made her eyes darken, her pupils dilate, mouth slightly parted. Her copper hair now a shade of deep red, like molten fire. He just wanted to kiss each and every one of her freckles, from her face to her neck and below.

The thought made his body ache for her, his pants growing uncomfortably tight. He breathed deep, once, twice, in order to calm his mind and thoughts, but was cut short when her lips met his.

His arms instantly found their way to her hips, gripping her gently. She tugged her hands in his hair, pressing herself against him as the kiss deepened, her lips parting wider to give him access. He enlaced one arm around her, keeping her close and placing his other hand in the back of her neck. He could hear a song, an ancient melody spreading from them, an array of strings and choirs.

When they parted at last, her eyes were wide.

“Did you hear that?” She whispered as they breathed in each other’s scent. Her hands were still on his hair, and he couldn’t take his hands off her just yet, placing them steadily on her hips once again.

He nodded, smiling, and she laughed silently before continuing: “It was magical.”

He leaned to kiss her once again, stopping for a brief second and silently asking for her permission to continue. She closed her eyes, lifting her face, and a soft sigh escaped her lips when they met his for the second time. It was softer this time, tender. Azriel didn’t know if something could ever feel better than this, than having his mate in his arms; than having Gwyn in his arms.

When they parted, he rested his forehead on hers, their breaths mingling. The scent of their mating bond stronger this time, only enough for them to sense it.

“Do you think they could feel it today?” Gwyn seemed to read his mind. “Our scent.”

He met her ocean eyes and shook his head: “Well, Nesta has a sharp mind, and Cassian knows me my entire life. They definitely suspect something.” He huffed a laugh “But not relating to the bond. They probably think is a crush thing.”

She laughed at him, teasingly: “Is it, Shadowsinger? A crush thing?”

“It’s so much more and you know it, Berdara.” He answered in the same tone, but he knew by the way she swallowed once that she heard the husk in his voice, sensing the promise in his words.

Someone is near. Priestesses.

His shadows curled around his ear and he retreated a step, just enough to allow a casual distance between them. Gwyn turned her head to the sound of robes shuffling by, and looked at him again. “Care to join me?” She offered, nodding towards the cart with a loving smile.

“Gladly.”

They fell into a comfortable routine after Gwyn taught him how to shelve the books she cataloged and labeled; sometimes she hummed or sang something to herself, and it was usually at those times when he paused what he was doing, bewitched by her voice. Even the movements of the other Priestesses seemed to still when Gwyn sang, the whole world going quiet. Usually, though, she noticed the subtle halt in his movements after a few moments, and interrupted herself by laughing at his reaction.

If Azriel could exchange the work he did as a Spymaster to just label and store books with Gwyn the whole afternoon, he would. Even if he knew the importance of his work, he would trade everything in a heartbeat just to be with her. Or perhaps he really needed a break.

There was a time in which he thought his spying to be the only thing that he was meant to do. And there was so much in it that he disliked: the torture, the gore. But maybe… Maybe it was time for him to start making some changes. For his sake, and the ones he loved.

“What are you thinking about?”

Her quiet voice distracted him from his thoughts. He shook his head, shelving another book, and turned to her, finding her kind eyes staring straight back at him. “It’s nothing.”

“Az.” Gwyn reached for him, holding his hand in hers “You know you can tell me.”

“It’s just” He gazed at their joint hands and sighed “I did such bad things in the past, and have been doing it for so long… I'm tired of it.”

She lifted a hand and brushed her fingers against his skin, meeting his stare. “You did a lot of great things too, Azriel. Like helping your friends, your family, your people… And me.” She smiled, reassuringly. “You were the one who saved me that night all those nights ago, and then helped me stand up back on my feet every morning after it. You helped me become who I am today.”

Her tenderness broke him, touched a place inside him he was just starting to realize he had, and he took a deep breath before he took her hands in his, lifting them to meet his lips. The only possible reaction he could have to all that gentleness without allowing tears to fall; and he prayed to the Mother it could convey everything he felt.

The way Gwyn smiled and leaned in to softly kiss his cheek gave him his answer.

#awwwwwww #sorry it took me so long #gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #azriel and gwyn #post acosf #gwynriel fanfiction #gwynriel fics #i live for gwynriel

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stardusttrashed · 3 years

Text

Lovestruck (4)

Part 3

Part 5

Pairing: Professor Erwin x Fem! Reader, Connie x Sasha

Word Count: 3K

“You even look pretty when you go to sleep,” Erwin praised under his breath, his voice filled with an early morning huskiness. He gently ran the back of his fingers along your cheek down to your jaw. “Just wan’ to stay home all day with you.”

“You better not play hooky, Mr. Smith,” you chuckled as he pressed his lips to your forehead. “Even if you kept your word.” You could feel him jump slightly at the sound of your voice, which only spurred your chuckles on further.

“Mornin’ darling,” Erwin mumbled against your forehead as he tried to play off the fact that your voice startled him. He slowly pulled away, just enough so he could look at you again. His heart fluttered in his chest as your eyes fluttered open. “H-how long have you been awake?”

“Long enough to hear you talk ‘bout how pretty I am when I sleep,” you cooed as you lazily played with his hair. You kept your focus on the blond strands that slipped through your fingers, too scared to meet his adoring gaze. It was a little overwhelming how he’d look at you like you were the most beautiful woman in the world. Even with your eyes closed, you could feel his ocean eyes committed to memorizing every little detail about you.

“Well, you are,” he smiled sheepishly. “You’re stunning when you’re asleep and when you’re awake.” He inched his hair closer to your hair, resting his palm on your cheek as his fingers grazed your hairline by your ear. “And I bet you’re stunning with your natural hair.” His eyes grew wide with worry, “n-not that your hair doesn’t look good now!”

“Who said this isn’t my natural hair Erwin Smith?” you asked with a teasing smirk on your lips. It was cute how interested he was in your hair. Even now, you could feel the mixture of eagerness and hesitance as his hand inched closer and closer to play with your hair. You leaned forward enough to let his fingers slide through your flat-ironed hair, watching his eyes twinkle with wonder.

“The way your wispies curl,” he smiled as his fingers took a break from running through your hair to play with your edges.

“My wispies,” you repeated him with a loving smile. “Wow, I-,” you stopped yourself with a chuckle. “I promise we can talk about my hair later,” you began to untangle yourself from him, making your way out of the bed, “after you’re done with work.”

A groan fell from Erwin’s lips as he followed your lead, clambering out of bed. “So, are you stayin’ here or going back to your place?” He wasn’t sure why referring to your place as your home felt so odd to him right now. It almost felt wrong, leaving a nasty taste in his mouth. He had no right to think this way. He knew that. It was just one night. And sure, he’s taken you out on plenty of hangouts that teetered on dates for the past month or so. Yeah, sure, he knew he was in love with you since the second hangout-like date. How could he not? But, there was no telling if you felt the same. You could’ve meant numerous things last night.

“You’re welcome to stay and keep Sina company,” he quickly tacked on, breaking free from his thoughts.

Your eyes followed him as he walked towards the bathroom, unapologetically checking him out the whole time. Sure, he looked good dressed up with those button-up shirts that clung to his muscles for dear life, but it was nothing compared to him now. Walking around with his hair disheveled, in nothing but his underwear, damn it was a sight. A sight that you wouldn’t mind seeing every morning and every night for the rest of your life.

“Was thinkin’ bout heading home. I can come back later, though,” you paused, taken off guard as he not so casually stopped in the bathroom doorway to stretch. “O-or you two can come over later,” you continued as you watched the way the muscles in his back tensed and flexed as his arms reached up towards the ceiling, just barely missing it.

Erwin looked over his shoulder at you with a devilish grin, “Well, before you abandon us, do you want to keep me company in the shower?” One of his eyebrows arched up in a playfully seductive way.

“Wow,” you chuckled as you shook your head, “abandoning you? Really ?”

With a slight shrug, a sheepish smile relaced his devilish grin, “what can I say? I enjoy being around you.” He strode across the room towards you. “Want to keep you around as much as I can,” he whispered under his breath as he scooped you into his arms without warning. “If that’s alright with you, of course.”

There it was again, that quiet, smooth voice of his that you noticed would often interrupt his usually confident and collected voice. One moment he was the one causing the blushes, and the next, he’d revert to a friendly giant, blushing and stumbling over his words like a schoolboy.

You reached up to cup his cheek, your thumb grazing his flushed cheeks. There was an overwhelming sincerity in his eyes that left you flustered and wordless. “Erwin… you should hurry before you’re late for work.” You pressed your lips against his in a chaste kiss, “I’ll get my bag and join you in a bit, ‘kay?”

“You brought a bag?” Erwin asked with a half-cocky smile, tightening his grip around you. His cheeks were blazing, but it did little to soothe the overwhelming cockiness surging in his chest. You wanted to stay the night.

“Y-you’re stalling, lover boy,” you argued embarrassedly, pushing against his chest gently as you tried to get out of his arms. “Go shower before you’re late.” You raised your eyebrows at him, sending a warning look that Erwin ignored with a mischievous grin. “Erwin,” you exclaimed as he began carrying you towards the bathroom. “I need my clothes and tooth-.”

“-I have an extra toothbrush you can use. And you can wear one of my shirts,” he set you down on the counter.

“And a shower cap?” Erwin’s eyebrows bunched together in confusion, giving you all the answers you need. “Soo, I still need my bag,” you chuckled as you smoothed out the wrinkles in between his eyebrows with your thumb. “Gon ‘head and hop in,” you jumped off the counter, “be back in a min’. Hopefully, I packed one.” Before he could protest further, you skiped away towards the front door, the soft pitter-patter of feet following close behind. A ball of fluff brushed against your leg, desperately to stay close and figure out your destination. “Morning, sweetheart.” Sina yipped in reply, following you out to your car. You giggled softly as she poked her head into your car after you opened the door, sniffing around excitedly. “Come on, princess, daddy’s waiting on us.”

Locking the car behind you, you and Sina made your way back into the house and eventually back to Erwin’s room. “Wait here, sweetheart,” you told Sina before you closed the bathroom door.

The sound of Erwin’s quiet, baritone humming greeted you first, quickly followed by the steam drifting in the air. You plopped your bag down on the counter before rummaging through it. You searched and searched despite there only being four things in the bag, thinking maybe if you checked just one more time, it’d magically appear.

“Good news and bad news, babe,” you sighed in defeat, taking out your toothbrush and a pair of jeans you didn’t remember packing. “Bad news is I can’t join you in the shower,” you explained as you pulled on the pair of jeans. The childish whine that left Erwin brought a tender smile to your face. You prepped your toothbrush before continuing, “but, on the bright side, you can see me in your shirt still ‘cause I forgot to bring one.”

Erwin turned off the water with a dramatic sigh, “I guess my whole day is ruined now.” He couldn’t help the rumbling chuckle in his chest as he reached around the curtain for his towel. “Woe is me,” he whined, finally pulling back the curtain as he wrapped the towel around his waist. “On second thought,” he breathed, frozen in place with an idiotic grin on his face. You had no right being that cute doing something as mundane as brushing your teeth. Yet, his eyes had no intentions of looking anywhere else, transfixed on your adorable figure.

“What?” you garbled, toothbrush still in your mouth.

Erwin chuckled, finally stepping forward as if your one word released him from whatever spell he was under. “N-nothing, you just… you look cute.” He strode over to you, stopping behind you as he reached for his toothbrush.

“C-cute?!” You spit out with wide eyes that met him in the mirror. You rinsed your mouth, maintaining eye contact with him the entire time. “You think ’m cute while brushing my teeth?” You finally spoke again once you were done. “Geez, gotta be careful, or someone might say you have it bad,” you teased as you stepped from in front of him.

“Wouldn’t be wrong,” Erwin mumbled as he quickly brushed his teeth.

The rest of the morning went by fairly quietly, both of you too busy blushing to come up with much else to say to each other. You made the bed and fed Sina as he got dressed and gelled down his hair.

“You didn’t have to to that, I would’ve done it,” Erwin spoke, slightly startling you.

“I-it was no problem, really. One less thing for you to worry ‘bout.” You smiled over your shoulder sweetly, your eyes immediately falling to the forest green dress shirt he was adorning. “I- you copy-cat,” you exclaimed with a giggle as you turned to face him. “I mean, the color looks good on you-.”

“I know,” Erwin cut you off. “That’s why I have a shirt in the same color,” he boasted as his eyes flitted down to the forest green t-shirt you took from him. “However, I, uh, I like how it looks on you more.” He tilted his head to the side, taking in every bit of your flustered reaction.

Why were you both like this? Why were you both still turned into blushing messes despite everything that happened last night?

“On that note, you should go before you’re late, and I’m going to leave.” You hesitantly closed the distance between you, stopping right in front of him. You placed your hand on his chest with a loving smile, “have a good day, ‘kay?” After a quick peck on his lips, you scurried out the door, releasing a breath you didn’t realize you were holding once you got in your car. “He’s going to be the death of me,” you whispered to yourself as you drove home.

***

“Where’ve you been? I almost starved to death,” Sasha screeched as you walked towards your front door. Before you even had a chance to jump from being startled, her hands were on your shoulders, shaking you. “Are you trying to kill me?” she whined, pretending to cry.

“I should ask the same thing,” you mumbled, slipping out of her grasp and towards Connie, who was standing at your front door. “Morning,” you said in more of a question than a statement. You were hoping he could fill you in on why in the hell they were there so early without you having to actually ask.

“BFB day? Best friend breakfast,” he spoke slowly, emphasizing each word, “Your day to cook, remember?”

“Course I remember, dummy,” you murmured with an eye roll. “How could I forget?” Erwin, that’s how. With a sigh, you moved to unlock the door but was held back by a tugging on your shirt.

“When’d you get this?” Sasha inquired, placing her chin on your shoulder. “Looks cute on ya,” she quickly added with a giggle. The smell was unfamiliarly familiar. It didn’t smell quite like you, but it was familiar somehow. Sasha didn’t even hear whatever you said, too caught up in trying to figure out the smell and fighting off the slow death of hunger.

“So,” Connie asked, trying to keep his voice down, “where were you?” He leaned on his elbow, resting against the counter as he ate an apple. “Ya never answered Sasha earlier. Almost like you’re hidin’ somethin’. Bet it’s the same place you got that shirt.”

You looked up from the pancakes in the skillet in annoyance, “drop it, idiot.” You flipped the pancake over, “or I won’t make you any breakfast.”

“Ouch,” Connie groaned, “someone’s touchy.” Connie finished off the apple with an obnoxious amount of crunches. “Is it a, oh I dunno, a boy?” Connie asked louder than necessary, with a smug smile on his face.

“A boy,” Sasha squeaked as she clambered off the couch to her feet. She clumsily ran across the room, bumping into Connie, “which one? Greek God? Oo, we’re talkin’ bout him, aren’t we? What’s his name,” she smacked Connie’s arm as she thought aloud.

“Ethan? Nah, Eren- wait, no, that’s definitely not it, ignore that. Ugh, come Y/n give us a hint,” Connie groaned.

You shook your head softly with a laugh, “you two really do share a brain cell.”

“Erwin! It’s Erwin, isn’t it,” Sasha smiled smugly as she noticed you tense up momentarily. “Weird name. Kinda like Eren, but it’s like his parents said make it fancy y’know. Wait! You-.” The pieces were slowly sliding into place for her, “you didn’t!”

“Didn’t what?” Connie asked with a confused yet blank expression on his face.

“I didn’t,” you argued timidly as you turned off the stove, sliding the last pancake onto the plate.

“Hey, Erwin,” Sasha squealed, making your head whip around in her direction. She smiled deviously at you with your phone pressed to her ear.

“Connie- I, er, I’m going to kill you both,” you growled, running over towards her.

“What did I even do?” Connie whined, his eyes wide with fear.

“So, not to be nosy or anything? But like, did you two do the deed last night?” Sasha giggled childishly as she ran from you, dodging around the furniture towards the front door. “Hm? Oh, yeah, ’m Sasha, Y/n’s friend. Pretty sure we met before- yeah, exactly!” She carried on the conversation as if it were nothing, dodging your attempts to snatch the phone from her with ease. “Wait- hey!”

“Hey, bab- er, Smith,” you cooed embarrassedly into the phone, turning away from the pair of idiots so they couldn’t see the goofy grin on your face. “What’s up?” Every inch of you was buzzing with child-like excitement, so much that you could hardly contain it. You absentmindedly twirled your hair around your finger.

Erwin leaned back in his chair with the phone casually pressed to his ear. Just the sound of your voice filled his stomach with uncontrollable butterflies that fueled his giddy excitement. “Hi, Darling,” Erwin said in a honeyed, husky voice, quietly praying to himself that you couldn’t hear the waver in his voice. “I, uh,” he chuckled shyly, “well, I forgot to bring a lunch and…” He trailed off as he rubbed the back of his neck. He felt so childish calling you like this.

You glanced over your shoulder, keenly aware of the pair trying to discreetly listen in while eating the breakfast you cooked. You lowered your voice, just enough so they hopefully couldn’t hear. “Maybe if ya spent less time flirting this mornin’,” you jabbed teasingly. “Anything special in mind?”

Erwin bit his lip, “surprise me.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“At least tell me what kind? Asian? Italian? Fried?”

Erwin laughed heartily, “I promise I’m fine with anything. Just bring something you like, alright?”

You rolled your eyes, “bye, Erwin. Be there in an hour or so.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

You quickly hung up with a flustered huff, tossing your phone onto the couch. You hated and loved how much his words affected you—three simple words. Three words, and here you were heart racing in your chest like a horse in the Kentucky Derby.

“Aren’t y’all cute,” Sasha was the first to break the silence, her mouth stuffed with an inhuman bite of pancake. “So who asked who?”

“Didn’t think either of ya had the guts,” Connie mumbled into his cup of orange juice.

“Wait, huh?” You stared at Connie and Sasha with a puzzled expression. “What’re y’all…?”

Connie sighed heavily, shaking his head with a pitying frown on his face. “And here I was, thinking you were the brains of this group.”

“Because I am,” you cut him off.

“She’s referring to you and Erwinie dating,” he continued as if you never said anything. “Unless,” he pointed his fork at you and raised his eyebrows dramatically, “this was a hit it and quit it.”

“No!” You bit your lips, desperate to pull back the outburst and act calm. “I mean, uh, it wasn’t a one-night stand… but we also, well uh, haven’t made anything official. I dunno, just feels implied, y’know.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, go be a good girlfriend who’s not actually his girlfriend,” Connie teased you as you grabbed your car keys and headed towards the door.

“Food’s the best way to a man’s heart,” Sasha called out, “even if he’s old! You should get him somethin’ to eat.”

“He ain’t even-.”

“And make sure one of you has the balls to actually make it official,” Connie shouted over you.

“Wait- I,” you groaned and shook your head, letting your argument die out. “Gee, thanks, mom and dad,” your voice dripped with sarcasm.

“Anytime, sweetheart. Oh, and make sure he brings you back in time for movie night.”

“And no funny business.”

They continued to shout out parent-like advice and warnings as you left your apartment, their muffled voices still heard through the closed door. As much of a headache as they were, you adored their support. With them in your corner, you knew you could overcome anything, even the jitters forming at the thought of actually asking Erwin to make it official.

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nashibirne · 3 years

Text

Painkiller - 7

Time for the next part of Painkiller, time to meet Jackson's brother Hunter, time for some smut! Hope you like it, let me know <3 Previous parts can be found on Nashi's Masterlist

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC (Ella) Summary: Ella is preparing dinner, Hunter helps her to relax over the phone and Ella makes an unpleasant discovery. Warnings: RPF, smut, phone sex, daddy kink, slight dom/sub dynamic, oral sex (f receiving), masturbation (f and m), NSFW, 18+ only! Unbeta'ed, English is not my mother tongue, sorry in advance for wrong spelling or bad grammar. Credits: Pics for the moodboard are from Pinterest. Face claims - Kelly: Pamela Reif, Hunter: Patrick Wilson, I don't know Henry Cavill, this is all fantasy and completely fictional.

taglist: (please let me know if you want to be added or removed)

@lunedelorient @inlovewithhisblueeyes @willkatfanfromasia @hell1129-blog @mis-lil-red @agniavateira @kebabgirl67 @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @summersong69 @taebfada @xxxkatxo @madbaddic7ed @artandotherdelights

~~~~~

Three days later on Saturday afternoon Ella was preparing the tomato sauce for the veggie lasagna she was going to make for dinner. She couldn't help reminiscing about the countless times she had cooked together with Henry, it was one of the many things they both loved to do. A soft laughter -the first in days- escaped her mouth when she thought about the one night they had planned to make "Risi e Bisi" but somehow they ended up throwing the ingredients at each other, laughing like crazy. Henry had chased her through the apartment, both of them armed with fistfuls of frozen peas. Ella had managed to lure him into an ambush and stuff a handful of ice cold peas into his hoodie. The face he made had been hilarious and his revenge had awaited her promptly. He'd pulled her close just to drop his load of peas into her shirt. Then he'd hugged her tightly with rubbing motions and soon they'd both been covered in water and mashed peas. They had been lying in each other's arms, their bellies hurting from all the laughter.

Thinking about the sensation of his body so close to hers immediately made her whole body tingle with desire.

No...no more moping...it's your own fault, Ella scolded herself. This gorgeous man had been right under her nose but she had wasted the chance to make him her man. And damn he was so perfect, he truly was. On the outside obviously but even more on the inside. He was all she'd ever wished for, she knew this now, now that it was too late.

Ella stirred the sauce lost in thought. Was it all over now? All the things they usually did together? All the talking, all the laughter, all the time they spent together? For sure their relationship was about to change, now that Kelly had appeared on the screen. Kelly. Ella rolled her eyes. She hated her already just for dating Henry but then again it wasn't her fault Ella had fucked this up. She didn't know how Ella felt about Henry and she deserved to be given a chance. Maybe she was nice. Or maybe she was a bitch. Ella had to remind herself constantly that this had been the reason to invite them in the first place. To find out what kind of person Kelly was and what exactly she was playing at. She was glad Jackson would be there to support her, because Ella was so fucking nervous, tense and scared. She hadn't slept more than a few hours in days and she felt exhausted just by thinking of the dinner. What if the lovebirds felt the need to kiss and cuddle all the time. She shook her head. Don't think about it. It's gonna be alright!

The ringing of her mobile startled her out of her thoughts. Ella looked at the screen with a surprised frown. Hunter. She turned off the stove and took the call.

"Hey there!"

"Hi Bella." His dark, rough voice that sounded like he had a pack of cigarettes and a bottle of whiskey every day greeted her friendly. Bella...he had only started to use this name for her when they had their 9 ½ weeks a good year ago. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine, doing great. Enjoying my weekend." Ella said convincingly.

"Why are you lying to me?"

"What? I'm not…"

"Don't even start your bullshit. Jackson told me about your strange little double date. So please don't try to tell me you're not tense as fuck." His words were harsh but his voice was smooth like velvet and it was a relief to know she wouldn't have to pretend she wasn't broken.

"Your brother is such a gossip." Ella muttered.

Hunter chuckled. "He is, but he means well, Bella. He's worried about you and your, well, complicated relationship with Henry. He says you're getting depressed."

"I'm not and it's not really complicated. I friendzoned him, I fell for him, I was too stupid and too hesitant to tell him and now he's dating another woman."

"You love him and you're hurting badly." It was no question, it was a statement.

"Yes." Ella admitted with a whisper.

"And you're torturing yourself with this dinner tonight. "

"I just want to meet her, learn what kind of person she is. I'm going to have to deal with her compulsorily in the future. And I wanted to meet her in my safe space for the first time." Ella swallowed hard, her eyes were beginning to fill with tears.

"I see and I understand that." Hunter lowered his voice and it was even more comforting than before, like a warm blanket that hugged her body. "But I know you won't make it through this date when you're so tense and on the brink of tears even now, a few hours before they're gonna arrive."

"I'm not at the brink of tears, Hunter."

"Of course you are. I can hear it in your voice."

Silence.

"You're going to break down or lose your temper in front of her. I can't let that happen."

"And what are you going to do about it? You're in Berlin, I'm in London."

"I don't need to be physically close to help you relax, baby girl."

Ella's body got all goose-pimply with his words.

"Hunter, I can't…"

"Of course you can. And you're gonna start with not contradicting or questioning me again."

Ella gulped. His words took her by surprise and she wanted to relax so badly but at the same time she wasn't sure if she was able to do so. Hunter's way, the way he'd made her relax so many times before.

"On the phone?" Ella still sounded unsure.

"Yeah, why not."

"What about Henry?"

"What about him?"

"I know it's silly, but it kinda feels like cheating on him."

"Baby, I'm not going to touch you, you're not going to touch me. And he's not your boyfriend."

"I know, but it still feels strange." Ella's voice was barely a whisper.

"What's really strange is that Jax is 100 % sure that Henry loves you just as much as you love him, but yet, here we are. You are a picture of misery and he's probably fucking this girl right now to ease his own tension."

His words made something inside of Ella snap. Hunter was right. Ella was single, she was free to do whatever she wanted with whomever she chose for it, just like Henry was free to shag Kelly.

"What do you want me to do?" She asked.

"First of all I need you to tell me that you really want this. Not for me, not for him but for yourself, to feel better."

"I do."

"Baby girl…I need more" Hunter snarled and it sounded incredibly sexy.

"Okay...I want to relax and I want you to help me and tell me what to do and I will obey"

"That's my good girl." His praise, spoken in his dark, sensual voice made Ella shiver with arousal. "What are you wearing?"

"A denim dress."

"The cute one with the puffed sleeves and the bow."

"Yes."

"I bet you look delicious, baby girl."

"Thank you, daddy." It felt so good to call him that, to let him be in charge. Ella's chest was heaving fast and her pussy started to throb in anticipation.

"Panties?"

"Sure."

"Strip them off. Slowly." He ordered and Ella did it. "Imagine it's not you but someone else who reaches under your dress. He brushes your pussy with his fingers and you feel it through the fabric of your pants. You want more but you don't get it. He just pulls your panties down and gives them to you. Now you're naked underneath your dress. Okay? Talk to me, Bella."

She took a deep breath.

"Yes, I took them off."

"Are they wet?"

"Yes. Soaking wet, daddy."

"Just by my voice. You're such a needy brat, aren't you?"

"I am. I'm horny. I'm pathetic."

"That's how I like it best, little one." Hunter let out a deep, rumbling laugh that made Ella blush furiously. "I want you to go to the living room. Sit down in your wing chair."

Ella did as she was told, her legs felt a little wobbly and her heart was racing. The sensation was incredible. She sat down on the edge of the chair.

"I'm sitting in the wing chair now."

"Good girl. Now turn me on speaker and place your mobile on the coffee table beside you."

A rustling sound came through the phone and Ella knew that Hunter was doing the same with his phone. She couldn't help but wonder what he was wearing right now, if he was just as aroused as she was. But she wasn't allowed to ask. She knew that.

"You're on speaker now." she said in a soft, husky voice.

"Good. Now hitch up your dress and spread your legs."

Ella obeyed. "My legs are spread."

"Wider." Hunter's voice was dripping with desire and his breath was going shorter than usual.

Ella sighed deeply. "As wide as possible." she said.

"So now that you're spread wide open, like a cheap whore, place your hands on your knees, let them wander up your thighs."

Ella closed her eyes with a little sigh, let her head sink back and started to run her hands over the sensitive skin of her inner thighs.

"I do. It feels great…" A moan escaped her lips.

"Take your time and don't touch your pussy, baby girl."

Ella whimpered softly.

"Not yet, Bella. I want you to tell me what you're imagining right now. Whose hands you feel on your body."

"I feel your hands…"

"Don't you dare lie to me. I know what's on your mind. Tell me the truth, be a good girl. Tell me your fantasy."

"Daddy, I…"

"Tell. Me. Fucking. Brat." His voice was sharp now, cutting the thick atmosphere like a razor blade.

Ella gulped again, taking a deep breath.

"It's Henry, daddy. Henry's hands are on me. He kneels in front of me and he's completely naked. I can see his toned, hairy torso and his impressive cock, that stands erect between his massive legs. His big, strong hands run along my thighs. But there's someone else. It's you. You're sitting on the sofa. You're completely dressed but your fly is open and you hold your big, rock-hard dick in your hands, you are watching us. You are watching us and you're turned on, daddy. You're so horny, you start stroking yourself."

He moaned lustful through the speakers.

"Yes, that's it, doll. Go on. Tell me what Henry's doing. Tell me what I'm doing. Touch yourself. You're allowed to please yourself in any way you want."

Ella brought her hand between her thighs with a sensual sigh. She felt her wetness, her swollen folds, the heat of her core. She let her fingers glide over her clit, through her lips and started to finger herself, striking her g-spot slowly, letting her thoughts roam around in the fantasyland that was building on her mind.

"Henry strokes my inner thighs. He does it slowly, touching every inch with his fingertips, teasing me. My eyes are closed, my head is bent back, my lips are slightly parted and I enjoy the sensation of his tender touch, of the heat he's radiating. I can feel him move closer, he's shifting position. Oh my god…" Ella let out a raspy groan. "His face is between my legs now. He starts to kiss my pussy. I can feel his mouth, his lips, his tongue. It circles around my clit oh so slowly." Ella was panting now and Hunter got winded too. She heard his soft moans through the speaker.

"My eyes fly open when Henry starts sucking gently on my sweet spot. It feels spectacular. My gaze meets yours daddy and I'm scared that you're mad at me because I let another man go down on me. But you're not. You like what you see. You're jerking yourself off with slow, powerful motions. We keep looking at each other while Henry continues to eat me out. And he does so well, daddy, so well. He licks and sucks and nibbles with so much devotion. I'm already close. God, Henry, that feels so fucking good...I hiss through clenched teeth."

Ella stimulated her clit now, she was indeed close to her orgasm but she wasn't ready to let go yet.

"Fuck, baby girl. You're doing great. Go on, make daddy happy…" Hunter demanded panting and moaning. Ella could tell by the noises that came through the phone that he was jacking off and the thought turned her on even more.

"I grab Henry's head, bury my hands in his dark curls. I lift my hips a little, pull him closer and he starts fingering me. His mouth is still on my clit, working its magic. I shriek with lust, I feel like I'm about to explode, the tension building within me is so strong, it's almost tearing me apart but I'm not there yet. Henry! I cry out his name and he intensifies his actions. My eyes never leave yours, your body, your cock, daddy. I love watching you touch yourself. It's stunning how it turns me on even further. You are close, I can see and hear it and then you get off. You let out a long growl and I miss your hands around my throat but watching your cum shoot from your cock is just as hot and I climax too. I come and the orgasm Henry is giving me is the best I've...I've...oh my god….fuck...Hunter."

Her orgasm swept her away like a strong, hot wave making her whole body go stiff before it started to relax deeply. She heard Hunter curse and grunt in the back of her mind. She knew he was cuming too. She knew the noises he made when he reached his high too well. He panted loudly, hoarse moans mixing with soft sighs before silence filled the room.

"That was perfect, doll. You did so well, baby girl. You made daddy happy." Ella couldn't help but beam with pride. Hearing him praise her that way was the best substitute for physical contact, for after-sex cuddles.

"Thank you Hunter." Ella said after a few minutes. "I really needed this."

"You're welcome, Bella. I enjoyed it too. Are you relaxed now?" His voice was so tender, his words so caring. "I am. And with Jax's help I'm gonna make it through this dinner."

"Of course. And whenever his date acts bitchy or nasty just remember that her man ate your pussy today."

****

They arrived on the dot. With the strike of 7 the doorbell rang. "Here we go." Ella looked at Jax, who had come earlier to help her and to calm her down. She took a deep breath. "Let the games begin."

"Yeah… we're gonna rock this, Elsie." They fist bumped and Ella opened the door.

Henry was standing there, larger-than-life, handsome, gorgeous.

"Hi." He said with a sheepish smile.

"Hi, come in."

Henry entered the room and a pretty blonde followed him. She was a natural beauty, her long, wavy hair had the colour of honey and her eyes were dark brown.

"Ella, this is Kelly." Henry gestured to his date and Ella could tell he was nervous.

"Nice to meet you." She tried her best to give her a sincere smile. Kelly gave her a funny look, she seemed to be surprised for a split second but then she returned Ellas smile and took her hand. "Nice to meet you too, Ella. Finally. Henry's has told me so much about you."

"Oh...really? Unfortunately I can't say the same about you. So I'm looking forward to getting to know you tonight." Ella gave her another smile. "Kelly, this is Jackson."

"Hi." Jax waved at her with a wink before he greeted Henry with a quick hug and a pat on the shoulder. "Let's sit down and have a drink?" He suggested and Ella was glad he took over as a host.

Half an hour later everything was going pretty well. The first ten minutes were a little awkward but now it was okay. Henry and Jax were talking shop about vintage cars and Kelly seemed to be nice. She was friendly and polite but there was something about her that was odd. Ella couldn't shake off the feeling that she'd met her before, she looked vaguely familiar but Ella couldn't put a finger on it. When Kelly giggled like a silly school girl after Henry had made a joke, realization hit Ella like a punch in the face. Of course she knew her.

"Jax, could you help me with the appetizers? In the kitchen?" Ella interrupted him mid sentence, when he was just gushing to Henry about some old motorcycle he wanted to restore.

"Um...sure. Now?"

"Yes. Now. Sorry to interrupt you." She gave him and Henry an apologetic shrug and a smile.

"Okay…"

When Jax closed the kitchen door behind them Ella turned to him. She was so pale, Jax got scared she was going to faint.

"Elsie, what the hell? You look white as a sheet. Are you sick?"

"Jax, I know her. I know Kelly." Ella whispered.

"What? How?"

"She's the girl that asked me about Henry's dick at Gianni's. The one who told me she would want him as her sugar daddy."

Jax gasped, staring at Ella flabbergasted. "Fuck. Are you sure?"

"100 percent. She looks different today, much more natural. She was covered in tons of make-up back then and wore stylish and very sexy clothes, so I didn't recognize her right away with her pure-college-girl-look but when she giggled like a child about Henry's stupid joke it dawned on me. I remembered her doing the same when she talked to me in the ladies' room. It's her, without a doubt."

"But how's that possible? They met accidentally on the phone."

"I don't know. Coincidence?"

"What are the odds? Out of all numbers she dials Henry's accidentally? After all she said to you about him being a good catch and such? I think we can rule out that scenario."

"Yeah...maybe you're right. But how did she get his number?"

Jackson looked at Ella with a shrug.

"Do you think she remembers you?"

"No idea. Maybe. She gave me a funny look when they arrived."

"Are you gonna tell Henry?"

"No. I can't. She's gonna deny it and make me look like a jealous bitch. And I can't prove anything. I've never told Henry about the restroom-encounter."

"Right." Jackson started chewing on his lower lip. "Fuck...this really sucks."

"Yeah. Maybe I should talk to her first. Give her a chance to explain."

"Sounds fair. Okay, here's the plan. After dinner I'm going to show Henry my car. I'm here with the vintage Alfa. It's nothing special but he's too polite to say no when I invite him to take a look at it. You stay here with Kelly and roast her."

Ella took a deep breath.

"Okay."

"Yeah?" Jackson gave her a sceptical look.

"Yeah. I'm gonna find out what the bitch is up to. No matter what it takes to get it out of her." Ella was in a fighting mood now and it was showing in her tone. If Kelly was just taking advantage of Henry, if she was a nasty schemer, just wanting him for his money and fame she was going to find out. She wouldn't let Kelly hurt Henry.

"So we're doing this?"

"Absolutely. There'll be be a cold day in hell before I let her fuck Henry over."

Jackson smiled at her and gave her a warm hug.

"That's the spirit!"

~~~~

tbc

#henry cavill #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill smut #friends to lovers #henry cavill rpf #cavillry

75 notes · View notes

theravencawsatmidnight · 3 years

Text

Rabbit. Chapter Two Part Two

Draco x Hufflepuff reader

Tags; @khemz1312 @trashyvicks @dracoslittlesunflower @dracmalf0y-dm @rosiehufflepuff @goofygobber @shinsouscatpisssmell

W!Heavy Ptsd, mental freak outs. Hearing voices, blood, bruises, cuts. Draco trying to convince himself he’s fine. Refusing to ask for help. Mental instability. The voices are the Dementors

After two years in Azkaban for how he treated you he was finally free. The only thing keeping him going was you. Now finally reunited with his Rabbit he thinks things will go easier for him. But Draco is struggling mentally and refusing to ask for help, but his only hope might be the person he despises the most

Draco did not return to the bedroom, he ran his hands under the cold water staring at them watching the blood run down his wrists down to the drain of the sink trying to think of a way around this… what could he do ? he needed help… The man shook his head at just the thought of him asking for help. “Rubbish.” he slapped the water off drying his hands on his briefs and going to check on you to see you asleep.

Its dark there huh?

Like the cell

“Shut up…” the tired shaky man shook his head going back to the living room, his vision was dizzy and he had to drag himself along the wall so he would not stumble and fall.

Why do you even bother?

Coming here?

“B-b-because..”Draco fell into the back of the couch seeing Biscuit asleep on his pillow and quickly went around the furniture to scoop up the rabbit holding him close to his chest. He let out a heavy sigh of relief once he felt Biscuits cold nose against his chest sniffing around. “I ,.. Wanna be with her…” he laid down on the couch with the curious bunny on his chest. He shook his head several times trying to get the voices to subside..

But does she want to be with .. you?

“She does.. “

Draco did not last long in the dark; he had gotten up and turned every light on except for the bedroom . one thing Draco did learn in Azkaban was that the Dementors hated the light. So every night he would sit under the window in his cell hoping the moon would be full and bright enough to shine in on him… But even with all the lights on he still saw darkness when he shut his eyes…

He was back on the couch with Biscuit on his chest again trying to think of something else, anything else. He wanted to share the bed with you so bad.. He longed for that moment with you. To have you snuggle against him .. tracing your finger on his chest.. Telling him stories .. cuddling up to him when you get cold.. Did you have any cute sleeping habits he wondered.. And did you prefer the middle or the edge of the bed.. Did you like to sleep in …?

“Rabbit……”

What if you get worse?

You already broke a glass, remember?

“Shut u-u-p…” he was starting to sweat, a long bead of it sliding down his head. We miss you Draco

Dont you miss us?

“N-no..” his hands found his hair digging into his locks. “I .. “

We love you for who you are Draco.

“You bastards made me this way..!” he sat up and Biscuit hopped off his lap scaring Draco, he jumped shielding his face till he realized it was just the bunny. “Im…” he wrapped his arms around himself feeling very sticky and uncomfortable all over, his skin felt like it was crawling and his bruises ached again with each heave of breath he took from his chest. “Im fine…”

You are fine , Draco.

Perfectly fine

Your fine

Your fine…

Your ..fine

You-r fi-ne…

“SHUT UP!!!” Draco threw himself on the floor hitting his head hard on the wood making the voices subside, he stayed there for a minute, crying.

In the morning you had woken up to an empty bed and every light on in your home. Quickly you jumped out of bed rushing to the living room to see it empty. “dr..Draco..”

“Yes Rabbit?” you heard behind you.

You whipped around seeing Draco with a towel around his neck and sweats on him. You clung to him sighing with relief. “Nothing.. Goodmorning.”

Draco squeezed you tight, wrapping an arm around your back and head giving you a gentle kiss on your forehead. Draco had passed out from exhaustion last night around 3 AM and woke up not too long ago drenched in a cold sweat with Biscuit wiggling his nose on his cheek . he had no idea when you would wake up so he had to hurry and cover his tracks.

“Good Morning Rabbit.” Draco squeezed you again and you slipped free taking his hand.

“I'm thinking.. We go get some clothes today?”

“S-sure.”

“And i think the twins opened their shop up again, maybe we could .. go check it out? Everyone deserves a good laugh sometimes..”

he was nervous.. It would be crowded in the twins shop...

Why dont you just run away

Come back to us

You cant handle things on your own anymore

You cant handle this-

He shook his head bringing your hand to his lips so he could kiss it. “Sounds good, Rabbit.”

The shopping went.. Okay.. there's only so many choices in Diagon Alley after all. Simple dress clothes and a couple loose shirts was all he needed. All though you insisted he get some more clothes he could relax in .

“Draco dont you want more loose fitting things?”

“D-dosint ma-matter Rabbit” he was having a hard time talking to other people. Everyone he ran into asked him about Azkaban and you had to step in and change the subject before Draco blew up at them. You noticed he did not walk the same way he did in Hogwarts; back then he had his head in the clouds, his ego on his sleeve, his attitude front and center and that damn smug smile he wore on that damn grumpy face.

Now he looked over his shoulder, shook his head, faked his smile and rubbed his hands alot to keep himself from scratching his arms. You noticed he only did it when the wind blew and were growing more and more concerned about him. Something was wrong, something awful must have happened in Azkaban… but the real question was would he ask you to listen to him explain… anyone… someone.. You loved Draco Malfoy, but you worried for his health too.

“Hmm.. im going to get you a few more . ill be right back “

“O-o kay, ill be .. at the twins shop”

You turned to grab his hand “you sure youll be okay alone?”

Will you?

We dont think so

You wont be alone Draco

….you will have us…

He shook his head and pulled you in for a hug and kissed your lips. “Im sure, Pet. no go get me something nice yeah?” he patted your head, getting a small smile out of you.

“Yes, Draco” you teased him hurrying off into the clothing store again. It warmed his heart a bit.. He loved the teasing .. he wanted more of it. He wanted hsi days to be full of it…

Its a shame…

...that this will not last..

..but….. Everyday you go on..

...brings you closer to us…

“Shut.. up..i shouldn't be able to hear you in that bloody twins shop … “ Draco stumbled turning around to make hsi way to the very eyesore of a shop.

Loud. it was loud. It was crowded and people were everywhere laughing, playing jokes on others, playing music, things were flying around, confetti and the likes. People shoving to get to the next big attraction and shoving all kinds of colourful candy in their mouths. Draco flinched every time someone touched him. Usually he would yell and shove back but .. all he could do now was cower and look over his shoulder . his head was quiet, for once. He could not hear the Dementors in here and the shop was well lit too making it easier to keep them at bay.

Draco maneuvered the shop looking for the twins , it should not be too hard. All the Weasleys have this unique look to them. Draco moved to the center of the store when someone bumped him trying to get by making him jump and stumble into the desk hitting his hip, someone else pushed by and he white knuckled the furniture starting to breath heavily.

Draco…..

Draco…….

Draco……….

“Dammit.. Shut up….” he pulled himself up looking over the people seeing the twins at the back of the store. Carefully he made his way to them and they both saw him and waved.

“There he is !” Fred said.

“All is right now yep” George added.

Draco was holding his side trying to stand up straight and look intimidating but the look on his face told the twins he was afraid.

“Bloody… twins.”

“Thats us!” they both said with pride.

“Wheres… Pottah…..”

They looked at each other and then Draco, getting a good look at him.

“You okay Mate?” Fred asked , helping him steady himself

“How is y/n by the way?” George asked.

“Shes f--f-f-ine, “ he shook Fred off gulping down a breath. “Where. Is. Pottah”

“Uhm.. top floor actually, hes getting some things for his kids.” Fred pointed.

“Thanks..” Draco shot them a look with a slight nod and made hsi way up the steps to the much more empty area. He spotted Harry looking over some joke spells in a book . Draco tried to be quiet but…

The boy who lived?

Draco stumbled into a desk making it squeak, Harry looked up from the book and quickly put it down to go to Dracos side. He was struggling to stand and breathe.

“Draco…? Are you alright?”

“Sshh--shut up…-”

Yes ,,, Draco …

Shut him out…

You dont need him

You only need us

...you only need… us

Harry helped the man anyway and Draco slumped into his side cursing himself. Harry helped Draco to an empty room and shut the door, carefully he sat the man down in a chair and sat down across from him not saying anything. Draco was a mess inside and out right now, he hated Pottah, hated everything about him , how dare he refuse to be his friend all those years ago? That duel… that damn… quidditch match… that damn….. Bird …

Leave..

Leave

Draco, leave

You dont need-

“P-p-pott-ah,.....”

Dont.

“I … n-ee-dd,....” he dug his fingers in his hair whimpering in front of this man .

Harry instantly knew something was wrong, he stayed as calm as he could.

Draco Malfoy of Slytherin... the smug, man who did not care for anyone else at all , only himself. Never asked for help from anyone, did things his way… picked on whoever he wanted...not a care in the world… was whimpering in front of the man he hated most. On the verge of a breakdown.

“I need…..”

DONT DRACO!!!

He looked in Harrys eyes with heavy tears falling down his face… staining the wood table. “I need help……………………..please………………”

#draco 😤#draco x hufflepuff reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #.RabbitFic

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lovingrosewho · 3 years

Text

Purgatory

Hello again! Long story short, previously I had watched Supernatural until the very beginning of season 12, because I found out what happened at the end and at that time, I just knew I wouldn’t be able to take it. Now that I’m rewatching the whole series I figured I’d might as well just keep watching what I didn’t anddd it hasn’t been much easier haha, I cried a lot and immediately started writing this, even before reaching the end of S12, so yeah that’s how bad I wanted my heart not to ache as much. Anyways, for those same reasons, I didn’t know about “the Empty” and perhaps a few things don’t make a lot of sense but I tried them to, sooo, hope you enjoy :-) Plus, some usual disclaimers: English is not my first language, any feedback is welcome, etc. <3 Ly all <3

ONE SHOT

Pairing: Crowley x Reader

Rating: T.- Angst, fluff

Word count: 3.7k+ words (yes, I got a little carried away)

Summary: you somehow get trapped in Purgatory and find Crowley

Warnings: SPOILERS AHEAD, SET AFTER SEASON 12, veeery slight smut, nudity(?), cursing

You don’t know how you got here. Everything’s dark. Like, pitch dark. The sounds are terrifying; growls and screams all along, sounds of beasts. The smell of blood and death ahead.

Come on, think. What’s the last thing you remember? You were under a witch spell. Scratching and killing any single thing that got on your way. You had claws.

You begin to walk, but the creak of the dry leafs beneath you is noisy around here, red eyes surround you and you’re forced to run in the only direction that seems viable.

Legs trembling, you reach a clear spot between the woods. Where are you?

“Hello darling” a voice with a british accent behind you startles you. You turn around ready to fight. A man in a ragged suit, covered in dirt and blood raises his hands in surrender “Relax, I’m not here to fight”.

“Who are you? Where am I?” you demand taking a few steps backwards. He gazes at you curiously.

“You’re... well, we are in Purgatory, love” he reveals and you freeze.

“No... no that can’t be right” you mumble, more to yourself than to him “Humans don’t go to Purgatory”.

“That’s exactly what I was wondering. Fancy explaining?” he says in a smug tone. You eye him untrustfully.

“Who are you?” you ask a second time. He looks impassive.

“Name’s Crowley. Who I am doesn’t matter” he answers cuttingly “What matters is... how and why did you get here?

You shift uncomfortably, laying your weight first in one foot and then the other.

“A witch casted a spell on me. I don’t remember much after that... just that I... had claws, and fierce, sharp teeth” you explain careful not to reveal too much information.

“Ah, yes” he nods and chuckles slightly “Nasty spell, that one. Never figured it sent you to Purgatory being a human, though”.

“Me neither, must be the type of spell” you murmure, when you hear sounds coming from the woods again. Crowley takes your hand.

“Come with me” he says, and with little to no other option, you accept nervously and start walking right behind him.

You’ve been a hunter your whole life, that is, until you stopped a year ago. You were tired, of the running, of death following you around, of the loneliness. But of course you never knew when, nor how, to fully stop.

Crowley and you walk in silence, but the foggy ambiance and the sad landscape begin to make you uneasy.

“How long have you been here?” you ask him, voice almost echoing amongst the trees. A few crows on the distance take flight and their croaks reach your ears, making you shiver.

“Time doesn’t exist here” he explains after a few seconds “I don’t know how long it’s been”.

You nod quietly.

“Why are you helping me?” you sincerely wonder. He stops dry and turns to you.

“Am I?” he asks back, eyes in a little bit of annoyance. You shrug and he sighs, suddenly a dull aura washes over him “I’ll explain when we are somewhere safe. We’re almost there, just, hang on for a little longer, Pet”.

You accept and start walking again, when you hear a strange hiss. Sideways, you get to see a vampire aiming for your neck. You hit it with a branch near you, but in response it throws you across the woods, hitting your back with a tree. Pain strikes you out, you’re barely able to get up, the adrenaline of hunting coming right back to you, ready to keep fighting, when Crowley beheads it from behind with a machete.

“My, my. What do we have here?” he says in amusement, eyeing you “I know that look. That pose. You’re a hunter. I knew no common human could take that lightly being killed by a witch and going to Purgatory”.

Before you can even answer he grabs your arm, prompting you to keep walking.

“Easy there love. If that one found us, that means there’s more to come. We’ll chat when we’re safe” he states and you nod, following him.

You don’t know how much time passes. It feels like ages walking. Everything starts to look the same. You and Crowley reach a darker area.

“Does this mean it’s sundown?” you ask innocently. Crowley chuckles.

“No. Nothing like that. There’s no such thing as sundown here. Everything stays the same. There’s no day nor night” he explains “No, this place is just where I come to get some rest when I can. It’s usually lonesome, but I try to keep moving anyways”.

“It’s weird but...” you begin “I don’t really feel sleepy... I’m tired yeah but-“

“We don’t sleep here. We keep moving, fighting, killing. That’s the punishment” he says while climbing up a tree, not bothering to look at you “Come with me”.

You sigh, and follow him once again.

When you’re both far up enough, there’s no other option than to lay as close as you can to him, so neither of you fall down. You cuddle up in his chest. He doesn’t say a word as you do so, just slips an arm behind your waist so you don’t lose balance.

“So” Crowley finally speaks “A hunter”.

You sigh once again.

“Retired. Sort of” you try to tell and he chuckles.

“I have it on good source there’s no such thing as a ‘retired’ hunter”. He’s not wrong.

“Yeah well, that was exactly my problem” you say, closing your eyes for a second, but damn you, you can’t feel sleepy not even trying “Name’s (Y/N), by the way. You never asked”.

“I figured you wouldn’t tell me if I asked” he guesses and you half smirk “I’m planning on keeping the nicknames either way”.

You roll your eyes.

“Never told you not to” you tease and now he’s the one to half smirk “Who’s your ‘good source’?” you ask changing the subject.

“The Winchesters. You must have heard of them”. You’re not quite sure but it seems to you there’s a hint of nostalgia in his voice.

“Doesn’t ring a bell” you confess muttering, the darkness suddenly weighing on you. You cuddle up to him even more.

“It doesn’t?” he interrogates incredulously “That’s... weird. To say the least”.

“Very” you agree. You thought you knew every hunter in the country.

“They’ve stopped one or two little Apocalypses” he tells you. You laugh lowly.

“I’m guessing you were good friends” you assume, and you don’t know it but Crowley’s heart breaks a little.

“More like archenemies” he reflects after a few moments, but you don’t believe him for a second.

“You’re not serious”.

“Deadly”.

You stay quiet with this last statement and opt to stay silent in his arms, as the minutes pass.

“I think I can help you go back” he murmurs. You frown.

“How?”

“I don’t know much, but the same good source... told me there’s a way out. A portal back, if you will”.

“That’s just a myth” you say, a sparkle of hope shinning through nonetheless.

“It got them out” he says, referring to his friends.

You huff and shrug shortly afterwards.

“Well if you’re gonna help me go back” you talk distracted drawing circles in his chest “You can get back too right?”

“I don’t know if it works for demons”. You gasp, you thought he was just a common... well, human.

“Demons don’t go to Purgatory” you mumble, which makes him exhale absently.

“Apparently I did”.

His confession puts you in alert, you still don’t understand, but you know now’s not the time to discuss it, now you need to survive, and that’s not going to happen without Crowley. You’re tired, confused, and besides, at this point, being dead, in freaking Purgatory, you couldn’t care less about what he is.

Your body begins to feel drowsy, you haven’t closed your eyes at all and the lack of movement feels paralyzing.

“Ready to get moving love?” Crowley asks you when he feels you shifting. You nod and disentangle yourself from him, slowly getting down the tree.

What seems like days, or maybe even weeks, you spend it together. It’s getting tiring. You’ve found better weapons but it feels as if you’re just walking in circles. Maybe you are. You enjoy Crowley’s company, but there had been hunts, or more like survivals, you’ve been about to give up. He has noticed and has saved your ass more times than you could count.

“I can’t do this anymore” you tell him one day while you’re next to a river, getting freshed up. He sighs.

“We’re almost there (Y/N). Humans don’t belong here. The portal will spit you out the moment we get to it” he explains carefully.

“And I suppose you want a ticket out” you mock but he looks you in the eye, dead serious.

“I don’t expect you to take me with you” he admits and takes you by surprise, his expression makes you gulp so you nod silently. He sighs again “I’ve done horrible things, love. Things you can’t even imagine. I’ve killed, I’ve kidnapped, I’ve tortured”.

“But you’ve changed” you dare say, a slight smile appearing on his lips “I love it when you smile”.

This time he grins naturally. You’re about to say something else when two asteroids of black mud drop to the dirt right next to you.

“Bollocks” Crowley mutters “(Y/N) run!”

You start seeing how the strange goo takes human form, whilst you step backwards to stand behind Crowley.

“Go for the head” he indicates quickly, before whatever the things that you’re facing come right at you.

You fight until they are beheaded on the floor. Crowley takes your hand, moving you away from the scene so no more of those find you.

“What were those?” you say as Crowley pushes you to keep moving, your eyes in shock looking at the scene.

“Leviathan. I’ll explain later, now we’ve gotta run”.

You reach a safe spot in the woods and cover yourself in leafs as camouflage.

“Crowley” you mutter almost inaudible “What the hell?”

You are laying next to each other, his body almost melting in yours because of the need of heat and compact.

He begins sighing, and tells you all about his life. His time as a human, as a demon, the Winchesters, Apocalypse, the angels, leviathans, him as a blood junkie, the need of love, of comfort and feelings.

You listen expectantly, you had never thought you’d see that side of Crowley.

He finishes the story telling you about Lucifer and the Cage, how his ego, and his need for revenge, wanted to win, to see Lucifer suffer.

“So... King of Hell huh?” you mock, speaking when he’s done, he just huffs playfully “But neither of those things were all that made you sacrifice yourself, were they?”

He chuckles and shakes his head lightly.

“I’d like to think after that the Winchesters finally saw that I was on their side” he admits “There was a time you wouldn’t see me fighting, I would be the one to witness the fights and do nothing... maybe God is punishing me for that”.

“Maybe...” you say “Damn it. I should’ve quit hunting when I could”.

Crowley chuckles.

“Why are you telling me this anyways?” you continue timidly.

“I’m getting you out of here, (Y/N). I figured, we’re just a few more hours until we get to the portal... what is a little more softness from my part?”

“Why?” you still demand “Why would you help me if there isn’t anything in it for you?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do” he says with a serious face.

You keep talking for a while. You tell him a bit about your life, hunting, family, friends... and he listens attentive, stroking your hair as the words come out of your mouth.

Afterwards, you stay silent, leaving the conversation at that. It’s been a few rough days (if you can call that days), and you two have shared more than enough to each other.

“(Y/N)...” he calls your name quietly “Before we leave, there’s something I need to do”.

“What is it?” you say lifting yourself up a bit to look him in the eyes. His scruffed beard almost grazing your chin, his eyes looking at your mouth.

“Care to guess?” he says as he catches your lips in a gasp, you part them and begin exploring his mouth, letting his tongue dive into yours, deepening the kiss.

The heat is consuming the both of you, desperation and need for contact, for love, catches you two off guard, wandering for more. Your hand roams across his chest, grabbing him and closing any single distance existing in between, and then travels to his crotch. His on the other side, moves to your hair and pulls you to him, his other hand tightening on your waist, an eager grasp, but he stops you right there.

“(Y/N)” he says softly “I... we can’t”.

“Why not?” you say confused, still kissing his neck and jaw.

“We could get killed” he explains holding you gently, making you look at him “We need to keep moving, we’re almost there”.

“What if I never see you again?” you ask, voice cracking. He gives you a light, sad smile.

“Hopefully, you won’t” he jokes, embracing you tightly. Sideways, you get a peek of what you think it’s a tear leaving his eye.

You get up feeling heavy. This place has weighed on you but so has the fact that Crowley seems decided to stay behind, and you’ve come... to love him, actually.

A few hours walking pass. The forest is in absolute silence, monsters just in the distance.

Suddenly, an electromagnetic force starts calling your senses, you feel drawn to it.

“We’re almost there” you tell him, knees beginning to feel weak after all the walking, the fighting. You feel like you’ve been swimming non-stop all this time and just now you are about to touch mainland. Crowley smiles and nods, sensing you’re probably right.

Finally, the portal appears in front of your eyes. Blue, electric lights, the end of the tunnel.

Crowley stands close behind you, waiting for you to go, suppressing the need to cry and scream and curse at watching you leave.

Unexpectedly, you turn to him and grab his hand, pulling him with you.

“You’re coming with me” you tell him with one foot on the other side of the almost closed portal.

“Are you out of your bloody mind?!” he yells “You don’t know if it’ll work!”

“I have to try!” you yell back almost in a sob, and with one last pull, Crowley’s inside the portal with you, it closes instantly and spins you around for what seems like eternity.

You wake up in a field in the middle of nowhere. There’s no road, no signs, no nothing. And Crowley is nowhere to be seen.

“Damn it!” you scream at the sky in tears, realizing the portal must’ve bounced him right back at Purgatory. Or maybe even some place worse.

“Quite the temper, haven’t we?” a voice coming from behind some bushes startles you.

It’s him.

You can’t believe it.

It’s really him.

“Crowley!” you say running to him. He picks you up in his arms and hugs you as if he hadn’t seen you in decades.

“Hello, darling” he greets softly leaving you on the ground, wiping the tears off your cheeks with his thumb.

“I thought I’d lost you”.

“Well, no. Apparently you’re not so lucky” he mocks and you laugh, smacking him lightly on the chest.

“So” you start “What now? Can’t you use your demon powers to zap us out of here?”

He makes a thoughtful face for a second and then shakes his head.

“I think they’re gone” he confesses.

“What do you mean gone? As in gone-gone?” you interrogate in surprise.

“Yes as in gone-gone” he admits rolling his eyes playfully “I don’t understand why I...”

“Maybe you’re getting a second chance” you tell him with a grin, which he returns but it’s not quite sure about “Whatever, we’ll... we’ll figure something out”.

Now’s the time to keep walking, this time hand in hand, no weapons needed, until you find the main road and manage to sneak into the back of a truck.

When you get to the civilization, you politely ask some woman on the street if you can use their phone to call some pals. They send you some cash so you can go back home.

You get to your apartment after what appears to be a lifetime, though your friends tell you it’s just been four months since they last heard from you.

Both you and Crowley strip out of your dirty, ragged clothes and get into the shower together, washing down the dirt and blood, but it’s more than that, it’s a new start.

You get Crowley a towel to dry himself, which he does with you sitting on his lap, drying yourself as well.

“What’s next, Kitten?” he asks when he’s finished, wrapping his arms around your waist, seeing as you drop the towel to the floor.

“Well no more hunting, for starters” you declare and he chuckles “Apart from that, I have no idea”.

You stop to think for an instant.

“Does this mean you’re entirely human?” you ask shyly. He looks at you, a mix of fear and hope in his eyes.

“Shall we find out?” he interrogates and you nod, placing your hand to his chest, relaxing the moment you sense his heartbeat “Go get the holy water, Pet. We should be sure anyways”.

So you test him with holy water, salt, a demon trap, and even a demon knife you had laying around. He’s human.

The two of you grin lightly and stay embraced for a while in the couch, taking in the scent of the other, still naked.

He stays quiet for a bit, but then clears his throat and speaks again.

“Do you mind if I use your phone to call my... Moose and Squirrel?” he asks, tone a bit shy.

“Be my guest” you say smiling, lifting up from him so he can put an oversized old robe you had on and call his friends.

You hear some rings through the phone.

“Funny” he says lowly “Says none of this numbers exist”.

“What?” you say frowning “Try again”.

He does but the machine keeps telling him the same.

“Well, maybe they ditched their phones?” you presume “They’re hunters, wouldn’t be uncommon”.

“No, I suppose it wouldn’t” he reflects.

“Have you got an address?” you ask “If the Impala hasn’t been stolen, we could pay them a visit”.

He nods still a bit confused.

“The Impala?” he questions carefully.

“Yeah, my car”.

He goes silent again, but sighs and shrugs shortly afterwards.

“Do you have any clothes that’ll fit me?” he says doubtful.

“Yeah, I must’ve somewhere”.

You look through the drawers and find some men clothes. Must be from a friend, or an ex-boyfriend or something.

“Hopefully this’ll fit” you say handing him over a pair of black jeans, plain black t-shirt and black shoes. He sighs.

“We’re going shopping after this” he declares starting to change, you laugh and roll your eyes.

When you hit the road, the address he gives you seems oddly familiar, but you decide not to ask questions just yet, and instead wait to see what happens.

You feel safe with him on the road. His hand on your knee while you drive and his absent stare on the highway.

You get to the place and... you weren’t wrong, this is your old grandparents house.

“Crowley...” you begin as he gets out of the car and towards the door “What are we doing here?”

“We...” he says as he tries to open the door, and can’t but notice this place doesn’t look quite similar to what he remembered, and it hasn’t even been that long. You frown and take out the old keys to open the door. He stares at you in shock.

“My grandparents used to live here. Men of Letters and all” you chuckle opening the door, Crowley has gone silent. You turn on the bunker’s lights and inhale the book and dust scent.

“This whole time, it was you” he acknowledges but you don’t understand.

“What do you mean me? What are you talking about?”

“I think... I think the portal bounced me to another dimension, to your dimension, just like I was telling you” Crowley tells you after putting two and two together.

“Oh” you finally understand “Oh”.

Inevitably, your heart fills with worry. You don’t want him to leave.

You get back to the car and just sit there, trying to process what just happened.

“We should go back to you place” he mutters after a while “It’ll be easier to decide what to do”.

You nod and start the engine on.

When you’re back at your apartment, everything feels kind of different, there’s a heavy tension coating the room.

“I’m gonna change into something more comfortable” you state heading for your room. When you’re stripping out of your jeans, Crowley enters your bedroom as you put some pajama shorts on and losing the bra without taking your t-shirt off. When he sees you, he walks slowly over you and with a playful look pulls you to the bed with him. You begin to stroke his hair while he’s laying on your chest.

“Crowley” you mumble, unsure about what you’re about to say “Maybe we can find a way back. To your friends I mean”.

“Who says I wanna go back?” he says frowning “I was tired of having a bunch of demons on my tail the whole bloody time anyways”.

“But aren’t you going to miss them? Sam and Dean? And Castiel? And your mother?” you say worried, it’s not like you are pushing him to leave, it really isn’t, but you don’t want him to stay if that means he won’t be happy. He already knows that.

“Mother is dead as far as I know, as for the other three Hardy boys... they’ll do just fine without me” he says a bit nostalgic but giving you a genuine smile “Besides, I have you now, haven’t I?”

You smile back and nod.

“Then I have everything I could possibly want or need right here” he declares, turning to kiss you

MASTERLIST

#Crowley Supernatural #crowley #crowley fanfiction #crowley x reader #crowley fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #supernatural masterlist

75 notes · View notes

khaleesiofalicante · 3 years

Note

HI, IT'S ME! YOUR LOCAL CHAOTIC WEIRDO!!!!! I'M BACK AGAIN LIKE I AM TWICE EVERY WEEK

IT'S MY BOY DAVID THIS TIME! WHY AM I SO HYPER! MAYBE BECAUSE THEY KISSED! AND I HAD TO SUPPRESS MY SCREAMS BCAUSE IM IN CLASS AND THE REST OF MY FAMILY IS OUTSIDE MY DOOR (NOT LITERALLY OFC)

OK OK OK OK OK OK

MAX AND DAVID ARE AT THE LONDON INSTITUTE YESYESYESYES

He rather liked that part in a story – when the hero fell, and everything seemed bleak. It always meant that hope was just around the corner. Because darkness never lasted. It was always followed by light. There was nothing more beautiful than that kind of sunrise.

THIS

I literally live my life by this analogy

AHHH DAVID IS ON HIS TRAVEL YEAR AND MAX IS WITH HIM

SCREAM

well i can't scream because my mom is sitting right there and I have class in 4 minutes so imma smile really wide

“Are you planning to read the entire library during your travel year?” Max chuckled.

“Of course not,” David replied. “I will need longer than a year to accomplish that goal.”

Me.

Wait

does max not being able to make portals have something to do with his lineage?

demon parent

ok so my programming class started 2 minutes early but screw programming I'm gonna be studying minds not this shit

ok that's a very bad attitude for someone who needs good grades in this year

Max was always hungry.

this is so me

KIT

THEY MENTIONED TY

also if David doesn't become an institute head in the future THEN WHAT'S THE POINT

“Where is the kitchen?” Max interrupted.

max is such a mood

He had told Max that he had centuries to perfect his magic, that there was no need to rush it. Max had given him a noncommittal nod and nothing more.

HE'S GONNA MAKE THE BEST PORTALS YOU'LL SEE

“I won’t tell the Consul,” Kit winked.

At the mention of the Consul, David straightened up. He had been trying to get into Alec Lightwood’s good graces for years now. He didn’t think sharing a room with his son would do him any favors.

DAVID UDUCDFUHKDUHVUHSDH

PLEASE IF WE DON'T GET A CUTE ALEC AND DAVID SCENE SOON

KIT CALLED TESSA MOM

oh my god

Word was that Mr. Herondale had gone back to his obsession with brewing tea.

JACE

I have so many emotions right now but all I'm gonna say is that I'm so so proud of Rafael

“Do you not want to sleep with me?” Max asked.

UH-

WELL-

DAVID STOP THINKING ABOUT THE FUTURE AND ALL THE SHIT

STOP IT

OH MY GOD THE ONE BED TROPE

MAX IS IN HIS ARMS I'M ABOUT TO-

takes a deep breath don't scream. everyone outside this door thinks you're taking programming class

OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE JUST GET TOGETHER ALREADY

AWW JULIAN PAINTED PORTRAITS FOR THE INSTITUTE

The one of Will Herondale and Tessa Gray – A love that had transcended reality and lasted a lifetime.

The one of James Herondale and Cordelia Carstairs – A love that had started with a lie and then blossomed into nothing but happiness and devotion.

The one of Lucie Herondale and Jesse Blackthorn – A love that had been so powerful that it rewrote the past.

The one of Jace Herondale and Clary Fairchild – A love that had walked through hell and shaken up the heavens.

And then there the final one. The one of Kit Herondale and Tiberius Blackthorn – A love that had survived distance and darkness and doom.

This omg...

He wanted a love story. The kind he read in the books. The kind he saw in these portraits.

But he wasn’t a Herondale. He wasn’t sure if he was destined for that kind of love.

HEY

DON'T THINK LIKE THAT

The first part though

same

He might have been a little too excited. It was biologically impossible to control yourself when you find a stranger reading your favorite book in the whole world.

SO TRUE

“I see you already made a new friend,” Max said.

He sounded a little…odd. As if he was not pleased that David had made a new friend.

honey...

take a guess

can I jump in and bash their heads together?

“You are thinking of conjuring chocolate syrup, aren’t you?” David chuckled.

“How do you always know what’s on my mind?” Max chuckled back.

Because I know you, David wanted to say. I just wish I knew what’s in your heart too.

OH MY GOD I CANT WITH THIS

“You get chocolate syrup! You get chocolate syrup! You get chocolate syrup!” Max was yelling, standing on the chair.

They residents laughed harder, and David shook his head fondly. He hoped one day Max would pursue a career in theatre. He was a born showman.

can I have chocolate syrup?

also, the way David is just so fond of him like DYUSDGYJCDYUJM

“By the angel, do you have to be a drama queen about everything?” the boy next to them muttered – not so quietly.

David blinked. That was uncalled for.

But Max being Max was completely unfazed. “Of course I do. My Bapa would be personally offended otherwise.”

exactly you rude little shit

Max often pretended like people’s words didn’t hurt him - just as he pretend that fire doesn’t burn or wounds don’t bleed.

wow ok stop calling me out

Is max jealous??????

is he??????

how are people so good at languages like damn

“Oh my god,” Max groaned. “Is he already telling people to check on me?”

LMAO

using mundane medicine...

that's risky

but it's also something that WILL help

can't warlocks tamper with the blood samples?

A part of him wondered if that’s why he had agreed to send Max away to London – at least for a week. Because sometimes you didn’t want other people to see you were hurting.

alec I really goddamn hope you're dealing with this well

some of whom had even decided to die than get help from a warlock.

alright then gets my knives but you chose this :D

Nobody brought a book down for breakfast if they didn't like to read.

yes but sometimes also to seem busy so people won't bother you or you won't look alone.

“I know,” the boy said as he walked past them to the gate. “I sat on the stairs and thought about life for a few good minutes.”

his family is the one who took over David's previous institute (i can't spell that. marse- marselli- wat??) methinks.

The gang always visited whenever all of them were in the city together. They would have so much fun! Of course, the 'fun' mostly entailed Rafael stopping Georgia from drinking random potions she found in the stalls, Selena stopping Lexi from opening a psychic booth to help people talk to Raziel and of course David stopping Max from running to the gambling booths.

LMAO, I CANT WITH THIS-

Rafe: I am anxiety.

me at any given moment

EW TESTICLES HE'S EATING THOSE-

ok maybe I'm the only person who's really picky when it comes to food and doesn't eat the majority of things

“Anything on Magnus Bane?” Max asked.

“No,” the woman snapped and shoved some of the letters into a bag and hide it under the table. “Leave Magnus Bane alone!”

“Appreciate your loyalty,” Max winked at her and started examining a diary.

I like her.

"Everyone should be participating in this" -my programming teacher

me, an intellectual: participating in what?? goes to the class web THE FUCK IS THAT

“Something for the shadowhunter?” the woman smiled. “Perhaps an unpublished snippet from the Beautiful Cordelia?”

“Do you have any love letters?” David asked.

“Hmmm,” the woman went through the pages. “I do have a correspondence between an Iblis demon and Christopher Lightwood? Would you be interested in that?”

if u don't mind I would love to see both of those-

you know I just remembered I have a computer assignment I need to submit by the end of this week fml

“Never fall in love with an immortal,” she giggled again. “We don’t like staying in one place.”

SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP

MAX WHERE ARE YOU

why are we using x and 3 in programming class what the heck is going on

“I’m not just some warlock,” Max said, his voice low. “I’m Magnus Bane’s son.”

GIVE HIM THAT NECKLACE BACK

we usually have programming once a week on our physical school days and those are fun because my and my friend are continuously passing notes and talking to each other through writing

The scene where Max fought off all the evil people who tried to steal his valuable belonging. He would fight without breaking a sweat and throw magic fireballs at everyone and then get his necklace back. And then he would kiss David in front of everyone and it would somehow rain all of a sudden.

But life wasn’t a movie or a book. Life was just life.

life's boring

fuck life

I just heard a student ask "why are we not taking out the values of b and c" BESTIE I THOUGHT WE WERE DOING PROGRAMMING AND NOT ALGEBRA?????

“I know there wasn’t anyone to protect you before,” Magnus Bane had said. “But we are here now. We will protect you. This will protect you.”

He hadn’t wanted it back then. He didn't even want it even now.

He didn’t want something to protect him. Most importantly, he didn’t want to cover his scar. He didn’t want to hide it. He wasn’t ashamed of it. It wasn’t a mark of a victim. It was the mark of a survivor.

So, David had smiled and given the bracelet back.

“I never wanted to be protected,” David had replied. “I only ever wanted to be loved.”

The warlock had smiled at that and given David a hug. It had felt different than other hugs he had experienced since he had come to New York.

It wasn’t just the magic. Magnus Bane carried so much love inside himself you could literally feel it through him.

I'm gonna cry during my programming class (where we're doing variables apparently all of a sudden??)

this is so beautiful

“I wasn’t talking about Bapa,” Max said now. “I was talking about the other one.”

David chuckled at that. “Oh, yeah. He is definitely going to kill you.”

what flowers would you like at your funeral?

so Jackson has family troubles

I've definitely got that

yeah I know what it's like to be jealous of someone else's perfect family

JACKSON WTF

Is he trying to ruin max's relationship with his family???

oh hell no

JACKSON THE AUDACITY

“One stolen necklace, One broken nose and One bruised cheek,” he said. “And you’ve been in London for less than a day.”

kit seriously? but is he wrong though?

“This is what I get for falling for a Lightwood-Bane,” David sighed and walked through the portal.

WELL AT LEAST HE'S SELF AWARE

Jackson...

in some ways, I can empathize with him. my younger self anyway. but Jackson this is not how you do things

There was a moment of silence and then Magnus Bane giggled.

“I do love it when the quiet ones go feral,” the warlock grinned.

MAGNUS

NOT.THE.TIME

(me too)

“David!” Mr Herondale gasped. “Is your hand okay?”

yup that's Jace y'all

David hated violence. He hated fighting – which he was often not allowed to say out loud considering he was a shadowhunter.

But it was the truth. He hated hurting people – or even things. It made him feel sick.

“It’s alright, Chouchou,” Mr Herondale ran a hand through David’s hair. “Next time, just-”

“Use my words?” David asked.

“Just don’t get caught,” the man winked.

and that is why I would never want to be a shadowhunter.

I know saying that doesn't do anything but when I first read tsc I wanted to be a shadowhunter really badly and damn that was some time ago but now...violence of any kind is my biggest trigger idek why. and I hate that so much because what kind of a person gets triggered by loud voices and fighting EVEN ON SCREEN??? I usually just push myself to watch stuff because it's dumb. I refuse to see trigger warnings before reading a book or watching a show because damn it, I should be able to stand those things I'm, not a child. and it may be doing me more harm than good but I shouldn't feel like this in the first place

okay...that was long

ANYWAY

“David, I appreciate you standing up for Max,” the Consul said. “But next time, please try not to punch anyone in the face.”

“Yes, sir,” David nodded. “Because it’s wrong.”

“Because it means more paperwork for me,” the Consul groaned and then straightened up. “But yes. Absolutely. Very wrong. No punching people!”

LMAO ALEC

Jackson...

I was wrong then

He was grinning. Magnus Bane must have raised hell in the shadow market.

that must have been fun

Max was doing that thing where he was not trying to pout but he was mostly definitely pouting. It made David want to kiss him. But then the Consul spoke, and David reminded himself he didn’t want to be the third person to get punched in the face this evening.

well-

“I understand that Jackson has been through a lot. But that’s not an excuse for him to hurt those around him. I learned that lesson the hard way. So, you shouldn’t excuse his behaviour.”

someone's trauma and pain is never an excuse to hurt others

but that doesn't mean we should invalidate their trauma either

“You can stay back and try to help him. I won’t stop you,” the man got up now. “But if he tries to hurt you-”

“You will unleash hell?” David chuckled.

“Worse,” the other man grinned. “I will unleash Lexi.”

that is much much worse

Books brought him comfort in so many ways. Just holding one in his hands automatically made him feel better.

oh my god

he gets it

I always have a book with me when I'm out even if I'm not gonna get the time to read it because just the weight and comfort of it in my hands or in my backpack brings me so much comfort and helps with my social anxiety so much

no one understands when I try to tell them that

you get it...

someone gets it finally

AYYY IRENE

“David, it’s very sweet that you want to protect Jackson,” Kit pointed out. “But literally no one is buying that. Not even Irene.”

The lynx purred on his lap as if she agreed with Kit.

“I could break into a liquor cabinet,” David said a little indignantly.

David is the nicest you can get

David wouldn’t. Apparently, everyone already seemed to know that - even the lynx he had met five minutes ago.

we are solving something in class and it's really quiet because we're all doing our work (I'm reading the fic so-) and this one person had their mic open and they kept on whispering their steps and it was so weird I cant-

BUT YES DAVID IS A CINNAMON ROLL. EVEN THE LYNX KNOWS

“We were talking about shitty fathers,” Jackson pointed out. “You’re welcome to stay.”

“I’m gonna need something stronger than red wine for this conversation,” Kit chuckled.

I remember that bitch

David used to do it when he was a child. He used to pretend his life was a story. He used to pretend everything that happened to him was happening to some other boy – a boy who wasn’t real. A boy who lived inside a book. Because it hurt a little less when you pretend like it wasn’t happening to you.

But the pain was still very real.

OK YOU CAN STOP CALLING ME OUT NOW

“I fucking hate ogres,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Was your father an ogre too?” Jackson asked.

“He was more like a harpy,” Kit snorted. “He was always flying and fleeing. I didn’t know how deep his talons were in my head until it was too late.”

you really like traumatizing all your characters, don't you?

I really fucking hope the ogre got what he deserved

and if the angel is dead then fuck everyone

“I mean, there was that time when Sebastian Morgenstern turned my father into the endarkened, and then he went around killing people. So, I would say he was more like a zombie,” the man was explaining now. “The zombie father tried to kill me but my brother killed him first.”

“Good lord!” Jackson said in shock.

Kit chuckled softly. “Boy do shadowhunters need therapy.”

they really do

He knew about those from New York. He knew Mr Herondale and Miss Fairchild went for one together.

YES GET THEM THERAPY

“Yikes,” Kit chuckled. “I’d prefer something classier. How about London Boys?”

“None of us are from London though,” Tiberius pointed out.

“The Beatles are not actually beetles, Ty,” Kit chuckled. “It’s just for pizazz.”

damn guys

Then the idea of a band turned into a possible YouTube channel where they would react to cute animal videos.

YS DO IT

“When people do awful things, really awful things, at one point we stop being surprised. Like what Valentine did to his children or what our fathers did to us or what those women did to Rafael. We might have been shocked or disgusted. But it wasn’t unrealistic, was it?”

“I guess not,” the boy said.

“Even when they did the most unimaginable acts of cruelty, it somehow managed to fit into our imagination. We accepted that the world can be unrealistically cruel. The kind of cruelty we will never understand. But why isn’t it the same for kindness? Why is that when someone is too kind, we automatically feel uncomfortable? We judge their intensions or think they are just pretending to be nice. We think they are being unrealistic. Why is that?”

we get so used to cruelty that kindness feels weird

“But that’s how our life works, doesn’t it? It’s a giant ball of what ifs and could have beens and if nots. What if my father had loved me instead of hurt me? Could I have been kinder if I was hugged instead of being abused? Would have I been a different person if not for my trauma? Our lives are an endless collection of theories about our real selves. The one didn’t we never had the chance to become.”

THIS

I used to spend a bunch of time on the what-ifs but those are useless. so screw the what-ifs and live in the present

“I guess we’ll never know, Jackson. None of us will never know how we would have turned out if things had been different for us. We never got the chance to be who were meant to be. Instead, we became who we had to become to survive what we went through. We will never know our true selves. We only know the version of us that made it through all the trauma.”

“Christ, that’s depressing,” Jackson said.

“It is,” David nodded. “But we made it through. We survived. I think we should focus on that.”

you survived. that's what matters

“There is nothing wrong with wanting to be rescued,” David smiled.

I wish I had heard this before...

maybe I don't always have to be strong. maybe it's ok sometimes just want to be saved.

I'm so happy that both Jackson and David found each other

David had learned Gaelic. Jackson had learned how to play the piano.

They had laughed and lived and loved and learned.

And they had survived – one day at a time. The London Boys.

they survived.

I know I'm always key smashing and screaming but these words, these lines, all these chapters mean so so much to me.

“You’ll write to me, won’t you?” David asked, hugging Jackson closely.

“No,” Jackson replied. “I will FaceTime you like a normal person, you weirdo!”

David laughed at that. “I prefer letters. They are more emotional.”

“I’ll text you,” Jackson countered. “With emojis.”

oh to have someone write me letters.

I love writing letters

once at the end of a school year, I wrote little letters to everyone in my class anonymously. even the people who had been mean to me. that was like 1-2 years after my transfer to that school and everyone practically hated me but I wanted to do something nice because who knows what someone is going through. I ended up not putting them in people's desks...

I threw them all away :)

but writing letters is superior

I often write my feelings down and give the letter to someone rather than talk to someone

if you receive a letter from me or a custom-made gift...you have reached my ultimate friendship

oh my god. THIS IS HOW I SHOULD TALK TO ONE OF MY FRIENDS ABOUT MY FEELINGS

It's kind of been a mess between us and I want to talk to her but I didn't know how to.

this is why i shouldn't send asks-

JACKSON CATCHING UP ON MAX AND DAVID

“You know what it means,” Jackson grinned harder. “Also, if that wanker tries to break your heart, I will break his face.”

“You know he is the Consul’s son?” David giggled.

“I’ve done it once and I will do it again,” Jackson shrugged. “He better treat you right.”

"wanker"

I HAVE A BRITISH ONLINE FRIEND AND THEY CALLED OUR AMERICAN ONLINE FRIEND A WANKER

AND OUR OTHER BRITISH FRIEND JOINED IN

WHILE ALL THE NON-BRITISH PEOPLE WERE LIKE "huh"

Lexi had cut her hair even shorter. Her girlfriend apparently got something called an undercut.

“Just in case someone dared to assume we were straight,” she had winked at him.

how many years has this fake dating been going on...

CENTURION SELENA

fterA the twins went to bed, David stepped out of the institute and went looking for his heart.

"went looking for his heart"

OH FUCK I FORGOT TO JOIN MY CLASS

MAX STOP DEPLETING YOUR SELF GODDAMN

And then somewhere along the way, Max’s heartbeat had become the steadiest thing in David’s life.

Max, with all his chaos and drama and danger, had become the steadiest thing in David’s life.

oh my god that's a parallel from canon

“Tell me why.”

“Ain't nothing but a heart break!!"

Max-

Max could make fireballs that killed demons on the spot. He could summon things from anywhere. He could heal people with his eyes closed. He was one of the youngest warlocks allowed to visit the spiral labyrinth.

Max was a warlock in every sense. A good one. A great one even.

he is so talented...

Only idiots would underestimate Magnus Bane’s power.

EXACTLY

He is probably going to be Consul like next week.”

David chuckled. “Next week?”

next week????

“Yeah, his smoking habits,” Max rolled his eyes.

Rafael wasn’t the smoker in the family. He knew who it was, but David would never open his mouth. It wasn’t his secret to tell.

this keeps on getting better

“It’s my hair!” David laughed.

“And you’re my David!” Max argued. “I say you are not allowed to grow your hair.”

MY DAVID

“I don’t want to downworld-splain it to you.”

Max blinked and then laughed. “You don’t want to what?”

“Downworld-splain,” David mumbled. “It’s when shadowhunters explain downworlders how to be downworlders.”

they were SO close to kissing

I'm gonna get in there and lock them in a closet together and tell them to FUCKING GET WITH IT

Remember who you are. Remember where you stand.

remember who you are. remember where you stand...

I know this is supposed to be about portals.

OH MY GOD THEY KISSED

THEY KISSED

IM SO CLOSE TO SCREAMING CLASS AND EVERYONE OUTSIDE THIS ROOM BE DAMNED

OH MY GOD DAVID FELL

reminds me of when alec fell down the stairs-

OH MY GOD I'M GONNA SCREAM

WE'RE GONNA GET MORE MAVID CONTENT SOON I'M SCREAMING INTERNALLY UYDRVFY7VSDU7UYVFSDUYGCADUYIGJCDSHJKGDVCSUGISDVHVF

ok, I have a computer assignment to get to and tests to study for. BUT I LOVED THIS CHAPTER SO SO MUCH!! THEY FINALLY KISSED I'M SO HAPPY!!!!!

Also I know I tend to go off track and you can totally ignore that. i just go crazy. BYEE

This live blog gives me so much life you don't even know. I am go glad you enjoyed the chapter. I love hearing you rant about it. It's refreshing lol.

And I looooooove the lil anecdotes you share in between. Also wtf is a programming class like nobody wants to learn programme what kind of hetero nonsense I-

FINISH YOUR ASSIGNMENTS AND STUDY FOR YOUR TESTS I'LL SEE YOU SOON :)

#lbaf

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malucy31 · 3 years

Text

Time in On Our Side

Here's chapter 2 a day earlier 😊

cw: nothing too heavy, but this version of Magnus isn't the happiest version of Magnus...

Chapter 2/3 - Times of joy, times of sadness

Read on ao3: chapter 1 - chapter 2

They talk and the weight of the centuries separating them evaporates.

Magnus tells Alec stories he has already heard, minus some details that make him wonder if his warlock husband didn’t invent them. He hopes he will remember everything so he can tease him a little when he gets home.

A twinge of sadness takes hold of Alec whenever he realizes that Magnus isn’t trying to find out more about him. His Magnus would. Danger be damned, he would try. He would have a lot of reasons to after all. Curiosity, suspicion, or simple intuition. Magnus’s magic never lies, and Alec knows he felt something. It must be gnawing at him.

But this Magnus doesn’t even bring up the subject. It would be fine if Alec couldn’t detect resignation underneath it. Now that he feels awake and perfectly healed, he can see it as brightly as the Sun on a clear blue sky. This Magnus is sad. The spark of joy and life that Alec is so used to seeing in him has been smothered. It sparkles every now and then, when he brings up the kinds of subjects and anecdotes he knows Magnus loves. But the moment the conversation dies down, a heaviness falls on the small kitchen like a lid. The only times his Magnus was like that are times Alec would rather not think about.

He takes a sip of wine, wincing at the sour taste a bit more than he normally would. It makes Magnus huff a laugh and the lid vanishes. Small victories and all…

It’s when Magnus gets up to check on his sandalwood blend that Alec looks around and notices something that makes his stomach drop. There are no windows in the living room. In fact, now that he thinks about it, he hasn’t seen any window outside the small room adjacent to the apothecary and the kitchen.

This is very unlike Magnus. Magnus loves natural light. Their loft has floor to ceiling windows everywhere. On a whim, Magnus sometimes redecorates the whole place and replaces walls with windows just because the light is incredible. Alec has seen Magnus lie in the sun for hours when he is having a bad day, or when he has exhausted himself with a spell.

Having no windows makes no sense. Why would he want to avoid the Sun?

Magnus’s voice snaps Alec from his thoughts. “I’m still missing an ingredient.”

He watches him sit down across the table again, taking his napkin back on his lap and reaching for his glass of wine.

“I swear, I will find it.”

“I’m sure you will.”

Alec sends him back his smile, adding something about how much he loves the scent of sandalwood, but Magnus must feel that something has shifted in Alec’s stare because he sets down his glass with caution, scrutinizing Alec the way he must be doing too.

“What is it?” Magnus eventually asks.

Alec is about to say something about the windows when something else catches his attention. He would slap himself for not seeing it earlier, but he is so used to seeing his Magnus underneath any kind of armor the warlock owns that he doesn’t always pay attention to what lies on the surface. Even today, Alec still reads between the lines, still sees Magnus’s kindred soul and open heart, the tenderness in his gaze. He still sees the most generous and beautiful man he has ever met.

But how could he not notice the obvious thicker black eyeliner? The way it enhances the dark hazelnut brown of Magnus’s eyes a little more than usual? A little differently? There isn’t a single round edge about him. His hair is spiked and even his jewelry seems to be part of a shield. I dare you to come close and find any weakness, it says. Even if there is something a little different about it today, the basic lines remain. Show them what they expect. Don’t be too much.

Alec is suddenly overcome by the need to protect him, to be the shield between him and people who can’t fathom that there’s no such thing as too much when it comes to Magnus. He just is, plain and simple.

If they were home, Alec would run a hot bath for his tired husband and kiss words of reassurance and love on his skin, remove his makeup with careful gestures until it’s just them. No armor, no one else. Only them and the walls they built around their life.

But he isn’t home, and neither is Magnus.

Alec’s chest tightens when he puts two and two together. He doesn’t know everything about Magnus’s life, but he knows enough to understand what is happening. Magnus needs protection for the same reason he has no windows outside from the rooms where he spends his time, his safe haven.

He is entering a battle that will last a few centuries, and he probably already knows it.

This battle has a name that, to this very day, makes Alec’s muscles stiffen, calls out his soldier reflexes.

Camille.

Alec doesn’t ask about the windows. He doesn’t need to.

Magnus will never open up to a stranger about this anyway, no matter how easy the conversation is. Even if he did, Alec will be gone in a few days and what good will it have done? The thought sends him into a downward spiral. He knows what is ahead of Magnus. Centuries of abuse, of loneliness, self-hatred, and despair.

This Magnus doesn’t need to be forced to open up by someone who will disappear from his life. He needs something strong enough that he can hold on to. He needs hope.

And Alec has an idea.

“I was thinking of a way to repay you for healing me and welcoming me into your home, but I don’t have any money… So, what about a small clue about who I am? Something harmless.”

“Please, do tell!”

Magnus’s eyes sparkle, and Alec is almost certain he can see his golden irises flickering for a second. There, trapped in the brown glamor that is supposed to make him presentable, a hint of gold. A hint of his aching soul searching for an escape, looking to this stranger for an answer to a question Magnus has been asking for centuries.

A pang in Alec’s stomach echoes that ache, the want and need to give Magnus everything he has ever wished. In times of joy as well as sadness, said their wedding vows. No matter the version of them, Alec will always give Magnus all his love.

“What you felt in me, what made my body accept your magic and kept you out at the same time. It’s magic.” Alec pauses for a second, considering exactly how much he can say without raising any suspicion in Magnus’s mind. His idea sounds too bold now. He could lie, invent something about being some kind of warlock, but he can’t. Not when Magnus’s eyes are begging for something, anything, as long as it’s different. The words are out before his brain has time to process them.

“It’s my husband’s magic.”

Magnus’s eyes widen and Alec is glad he didn’t backpaddle.

“Your… Your husband?” He pronounces the word with such delicacy that Alec’s heart breaks.

“Yeah, my husband.”

“H… How?” His voice is almost a whisper, his smile full of centuries-old, dried tears and smothered dreams.

Alec fights hard against the reflex to sit closer to him, take him in his arms, never let go.

“Where are you from?” Magnus asks.

“Far away.”

“You don’t say… You seem…suspended in time, like you… I couldn’t even find the words.” Magnus lowers his gaze, shaking his head and quickly trying to erase all trace of emotion on his face. But it doesn’t fool Alec. Longing is already coloring his tone. “I won’t know more, will I?”

Alec is about to apologize again when Magnus raises a hand between them. “You know what? It’s okay. Like I said, there is clearly something unique about you, and I wouldn’t want to put you or your husband in danger by knowing too much. But thank you for trusting me with this.”

Alec doesn’t know how to respond to that. There are too many things he could say and none of them would make sense to Magnus, so he nods, smiling.

“There’s one more thing I would like to know about you, though.”

“What is it?”

“Your name. You haven’t told me.”

“Oh, Gideon. I’m Gideon.”

“Well, nice to meet you, Gideon. I’m Magnus.”

Alec can feel giddiness forming on his lips. How many people get to relive a first introduction?

When the conversation resumes, Alec can’t help noticing a difference in the way Magnus holds himself and speaks. Less guarded, more himself. It sparks something in Alec’s stomach, a need to be home already, an urge stronger than he has felt in the past month and a half. He can’t wait to be home, can’t wait to hold his husband in his arms and have living proof that Magnus did overcome everything, that Camille is a long-forgotten nightmare.

Neither of them realizes how late it is until Magnus has to conjure up some light in the form of tiny bulbs floating above them. The light they cast reminds Alec of home again, of improvised date nights in the middle of nowhere, of late dinners when they refuse to go to bed before the other one has returned. It makes it even harder to pronounce his next words.

“It’s late, I should… I should get back,” Alec says, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“Where are you staying? Let me walk you back. The streets aren’t safe at night.”

Alec is about to decline when he realizes that he has no idea how to go back, no cell phone to help, and that Magnus hasn’t invented portals yet.

“If that’s not too much trouble, I’d like that.”

“No trouble at all, but before you go, let me give you something in return of this lovely night.”

“Magnus, you don’t—”

He snaps his fingers, and a small pouch appears in his hand, the scent already tickling the corners of Alec’s mouth. Sandalwood. “Since you liked the scent… It’s not exactly what I want it to be yet, but maybe you and your husband will find the missing ingredient. You’ll have to let me know if you do.”

Magnus adds a wink as he hands the pouch to Alec in a way that reminds him of his own Magnus. It feels so good that Alec lets his grin grow wider than he has in a month and a half.

“Thank you. I’ll… I’ll let you know if we find something, but I’m sure you have the solution around here.”

Maybe he shouldn’t have said that, but he can’t help it. He knows what ingredient is missing, it’s actually right there on the table, and he doesn’t always get the chance to tease Magnus.

For the first time since Alec woke up, he recognizes Magnus’s smile. It’s a smile that ends in a very soft laugh, the one that modifies his voice a little and makes him sound like a young man with no burden on his shoulders, no heaviness on his heart. It’s beautiful. He is beautiful.

Alec misses him so much.

He knows he can’t bring Magnus to the Shadowhunters’ lair, so when he recognizes the streets, he comes to a halt and stops in front of an inn.

“This is it… Thank you for everything. I… I really wish I could give you more to thank you.”

The moonlight accentuates Magnus’s soft features, but it also accentuates the ache in his eyes. Alec didn’t know he could want to take him in his arms even more than he has for the last month.

“You already did, Gideon.” He smiles, but sadness lingers at the edges of his lips. “Hope is a rare and valuable thing. It’s usually fleeting, but yours… There’s something about you, you radiate joy, hope and freedom. You let me have a glimpse and dare I say, a taste of it. It was an honor to meet you. I wish I could meet your husband too. Maybe someday?”

“Maybe, yeah…”

“In the meantime, tell him Magnus Bane sends him his best regards, will you?”

“I will.” Alec knows he has been reduced to monosyllabic words, but he can’t do more in this instant. His voice is choking with emotions.

“Thank you. I needed this, I needed to meet you, more than you know… Good-bye, Gideon. Travel safely, and I hope we’ll meet again sometime.”

There’s a lot Alec would like to reply, but no words could ever convey the depth and extent of all his feelings, not in this time or place. There is no space here for their love. There can’t be. Magnus doesn’t give him the time to say anything. He is already walking backwards, and that’s probably for the best.

“I hope so too. Good-bye…” Magnus stays trapped in his throat as he watches him walk away. He can’t shake the feeling that he didn’t give him enough. He shouldn’t have let him go before there was only joy on his face, in his eyes… Alec almost calls him back, but he can’t. Not for another two or three centuries at least. This had to be enough.

#malec #malec fic #malec fanfiction #my writing #shadowhunters #alec lightwood #magnus bane #time travel #hurt/comfort

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shera-dnd · 3 years

Link

Oh boy am I late with this one, but here it is.

And now Weiss and Ilia finally get to interact in the story. It’s mostly anger and threats, but they’re at least interacting.

Oh god this is gonna be a long fic.

Anyways AO3 link up top if you’d like to read it over there and read more link bellow if you’d rather stay around.

The days that followed were tense, to put it mildly. Though Weiss’s faith in Blake’s honor - and Ilia’s certainty that her fellow fae could not lie to her - had afforded the Black Knight a considerable degree of freedom, Weiss and Ilia granted each other no such privilege, neither allowing the other a moment away from their sight.

That meant many quiet meals shared under a heavy atmosphere of anger and distrust. That meant catching the other glaring at them from the corner of their eye as they tried to enjoy the festival. That meant Ilia had very few chances to talk to her fellow fae alone.

It was on the fourth day of their unbearable standoff that Ilia finally managed to catch Blake alone while Weiss went through the laborious process of donning her armor.

“Belladonna!” She called.

The fae sighed at the sound of that name. Ilia was fully aware of every ounce of suspicion that dripped from that singular word, but she couldn’t care less right now, she had to know why Belladonna had abandoned them, why she had abandoned her.

“You’re a traitor and a deserter,” she continued, “but I did not think you mad.”

“Just ask the damned question and get this over with,” Belladonna complained, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“What reason would you have to join the humans after everything they’ve done to us?” Ilia demanded.

"I simply believe that their potential for good outweighs their potential for evil,” Belladonna answered truthfully, “yes, I still believe the evils of men must be paid for, but I've seen what we can accomplish together, and I truly believe that is worth far more than anything war could ever bring us."

Ilia wasn’t sure what she expected, but it wasn’t this. She had braced herself for another shouting match, and was fully prepared to bring her full fury to bear upon her. She was prepared for anything but this.

When Belladonna spoke she made it sound so simple, like it was the most obvious choice for her, like the court, or Taurus, or Ilia were only afterthoughts.

“And what of us?” Ilia asked, not even trying to mask her hurt, “you speak of bringing peace to men and fae, but when have you last stepped into one of our courts? When have you last seen the face of your people?”

‘And what of me?’ she nearly asked, but the words died as the Schnee stepped out of her tent. Though she looked utterly disinterested in their argument, Ilia did not feel comfortable pursuing that topic with the Schnee around.

Belladonna tried to speak again, “Ami--”

She raised a hand to silence her, “I don’t wanna hear it!”

“Very well,” the fae knight sighed, and picked up her belongings, “I must attend to my knightly duties now. I hope I can trust you both to not kill each other while I’m away.”

“I make no such promises,” Ilia replied.

“And I won’t hesitate to retaliate,” the Schnee bit back.

Utterly unsatisfied with these responses, but also already far too tired of the two of them, Belladonna simply shook her head, and left them to their own devices. They silently glared at each other for a few moments, before the Schnee spoke up.

“I have a proposition for you, Ilia.”

“I’m not interested,” she replied, promptly.

“Won’t you at least hear what I have to say?” She asked, annoyed.

“Why would I even deign to entertain you, Schnee?” She demanded.

“Because we’re both miserable, distrusting fools, and I know how to fix at least one of those things,” she replied.

“You truly believe you can make me trust you?” She mocked.

“No, but I can make us both less miserable,” she replied and for once Ilia didn’t have some overly belligerent retort, “we may both refuse to let the other away from our sights, but at the very least we can try to keep tabs on each other while enjoying the festival, instead of sulking around our tents all day.”

“So what do you propose, Schnee?” Ilia asked, “that we walk the festival grounds together like we’re the best of friends?”

“No,” she answered, again, “we’ll walk the festival grounds as noble and bodyguard.”

“What?”

“I need someone to speak for me, so I won’t be recognized,” she explained, “and you need someone to protect you from drunk fools.”

“I do not need your protection!” She insisted.

“Half the people here are armed with iron,” the Schnee replied, fully aware Ilia would act like that, “but please, do try to cast your spells,see if your head won’t be on a pike by sundown.”

Ilia clenched her fists and wondered if Belladonna would mind if she returned to find the Schnee girl had been mysteriously turned into mulch. It took a few deep breaths for her to stop considering ways of returning that woman to the ground.

“We can’t give you the satisfaction of watching that, now can we?” Ilia replied, with a smile that was only slightly less threatening than her scowl, “very well. I’ll be your noble lady and you’ll be my silent knight.”

The Schnee girl puffed up her chest a little, and her lips twitched into the first hint of a possible smile, pride shining in the woman’s eye at being described as a ‘knight’. Ilia could not be more displeased with the knowledge that she had made a Schnee feel happy.

Ilia made a disgusted sound that immediately crushed the Schnee’s smile, good, “just allow me to change my glamours and we’ll be on our way.”

Soon enough she walked through the many tents of the festival once more, the Schnee following dutifully behind her. This time Ilia took her time to stop by each of their performers and enjoy their shows. It made for a far more enjoyable experience than these past few grueling days.

She had been watching this young fae man present his magic tricks for a while now. He was quite clever with his presentation, mixing practical tricks with true magic so as to make his show more grounded, more believable to a mortal eye. Ilia was impressed, but clearly not as impressed as her bodyguard.

The man had barely finished his last trick when the Schnee marched up to him and offered him a considerable amount of money. The man’s eyes went wide and offered her a deep bow as he took the coins from her.

It was clear that this generosity was born both of kindness and a lack of monetary sense. These few gold coins would change that man’s life, but were only a fraction of a fraction of the wealth she had to her name. Still this gave Ilia quite the interesting idea.

For the rest of that day she made a point to stop only by the performing fae. Musicians, magicians, artists, and actors alike, all who took their time to entertain the crowds of the festival. And without fail, Weiss offered them some of her wealth before they moved on to the next performer. By the end of the day they had left many fae happier and the Schnee’s purse a few fractions lighter.

It was only when they had settled down back at their camp and sat together around their bonfire that Ilia had finally deigned to speak of what happened to her companion.

“You were quite generous today, Lady Schnee,” Ilia commented.

The Schnee took off her helmet and stared at her for a moment, “I sense there’s a twist to your compliment.”

“Of course not,” Ilia replied, “I was just surprised that a Schnee would freely offer so much of their money to the fae.”

It took her a moment to process what was said, but when she did instead of looking angry at Ilia, she appeared instead to be… offended?

“Was that why you led me to these people?” She asked, “so you’d have something to rub in my face come sundown?”

“Of course not,” she denied, “but I must admit that your reaction was as rewarding as the act of helping my people.”

She could see the anger in the woman’s eyes even as she tried her best not to show the rage Ilia wanted to see from her.

“I wanted to help the people my family had neglected,” she eventually replied, “fae or not, my intentions remain the same.”

“You can’t claim that you don’t care who they are,” she countered, “you were the one who tried to ambush me and Blake but a few nights ago. Had it been any of these people in the woods you would have hunted them down just the same.”

“I drew my blade against you only in defense,” she countered.

“Was it in defense then that you stalked us in the middle of the night?” She demanded.

She clenched her jaw and stood up to Ilia, but her gaze faltered. She was utterly furious, but only at herself, at her own hypocrisy.

“You’re right,” she admitted defeat, “I stalked you and was ready to strike you down in the name of some...false glory.”

Ilia was almost satisfied with this response. She had gotten that Schnee fool to see herself for what she really was

“If I wish to become a knight, I must act like one,” she declared, “and that means I shouldn’t allow my actions to contradict my words again.”

And that caught Ilia by surprise.

“I have sworn I would dedicate my life to making the Schnee name mean more than the destruction and pain my father has brought,” she explained, “I cannot keep my word if I keep acting like this.”

“Am I simply to believe that?” Ilia challenged, “when it was Schnee men that cut down our forests! When it was Schnee iron that branded our people!”

Weiss faltered again. Guilt was clear in her eyes, but guilt would not bring back all the people her kind had killed.

“No,” Weiss admitted, “all I have done was sow bad faith, and earn your mistrust.”

The woman seemed to shrink before her, even in her armor she looked downright fragile with how she held herself, shame imprinted into every word and action.

“But I’ll do what I can to make things better, to earn your trust, lady Ilia,” she offered.

“By what?” Ilia bit back, “handing off pocket change whenever you feel guilty? Making empty declarations of loyalty? I will never trust you, Schnee. No matter how many empty acts of kindness you offer.”

“Even if I can’t,” she returned, fire burning in her eyes once more, “I will do everything within my power to be a person deserving of it.”

“Then you will labor for the rest of your life.”

“Then I’ll accept that fate,” she replied, “and if Lady Blake is truthful about her talks of peace, I swear to match her effort tenfold.”

“Careful, Lady Weiss,” Belladonna’s voice called, playfully, “I’ll be holding you to your word.”

“And I am grateful for that,” Weiss replied.

Ilia stared up at her as Belladonna sat down by Weiss’s side.

“So be it,” she huffed, “may you both waste your lives in this fruitless pursuit.”

“Gladly, my lady!” Belladonna replied with a cheerful laugh, “now I take it you two had an interesting day.”

#rwby #prismatic ponytails #weiss schnee #ilia amitola #blake belladonna #medieval au #fanfic

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vastanxc · 4 years

Text

03:00 am

Three o'clock in the morning was when the magician, now in her own apartment, walked to the kitchen to make a cup of tea so she could sleep. She had become independent from the Titans once she was of legal age. It was a small but comfortable apartment that paid the league for her services and she was happy about it. She liked to be independent... be alone.

- Nice place.... but haven’t you thought of a change of color?

She did not turn to see the man. By now the voices of Gotham's family were already very familiar to her. As with that strange habit of appearing out of nowhere.

- You all say Damian is the rudest, but he always knocks on the door before entering a house.

- The spawn knocks "your" door, devil. Besides, you must thank me that I am not Bruce. That pervert would stare at you until you woke up.

By the time she turns. She saw Jason sitting on the sofa, reading one of her magic books with his legs on the coffee table.

- “Great book of magic” my ass... where is the trick of how to get a rabbit out of a hat?

- Page 134.

Jason look at her for a few seconds and look for page 134... just to find the trick he had said.

- Well... I’ll be damn.

Raven tried some of her tea and sat down at the kitchen table.

- Why are you visiting me at this hour?

The lonely member of Batman's family got up and walked to the table and sat in front of her.

- I have a problem with magical things... and I wanted to use the bathroom.

- What happened?

- I ate a bean burrito and it sat me wrong.

Raven sighed and thought that Damian was right, sometimes.

- I mean the magic, Jason.

Jason took some pictures of his jacket and showed them to the magician to see.

- Where did you see these symbols?

- I found them under Arkham, in the sewers.

- What did you find?

- An Alf doll that was missing his head.

- ...

- Oh, and a plumbing system that connects to the asylum morgue. It seems that the new warden does not like to point out that his patients are dying, and to cover it up. Throw the bodies in the sewers of the city.

Raven was left thinking about what she had heard and tried to relate it to the symbols in the photos.

- Any ideas?

- I know the brand. It's from a cult that worships a demon who wears mortal skins to enter the mortal plane.

- That's beautiful.

- I presume that the warden is a member of the cult and marks them so that some member collects the bodies once they are in the sewers.

- Sounds crazy... chances are you're right.

He said while removing the photos.

- Do you want something to drink?

- Aren't you going to kick me out of your house?

- Why would I do that?

- It's 3 a.m.

- You are like this, there is not much to do about that. Would you like some coffee?

- Sure... Ok.

Raven, with her powers, lit the coffee maker to make a cup for her visit.

- Can I ask you a question?

- I will not change the paint on my walls.

- Okay... can I ask you another question?

- What do you want to know?

- How come the spawn hasn't woken up and isn’t attacking me with his toy sword?

- He’s sleeping.

- I ask again How come the spawn hasn't woken up and isn’t attacking me with his toy sword?

- ...

- Was the session in bed too rude?

- You're all idiots... everyone bothers us with that.

- Did you force him to dress up as an Arab dancer to move his hips?

- I PUT A SPELL ON HIM!

Jason was silent for a few seconds and then said.

- The pot broke. Your carnations are going to die.

- Yes, I've noticed...

Again, with his magic. Raven cleaned everything and served the cup of coffee to her disrespectful guest.

- Thank you.

- He hadn't slept in almost five days. But when I got to locate the smugglers, he wanted to go get them, but I didn't allow it. I slept him with a spell, sent the data to Mr. Pennyworth and told him about Damian…

- Mmmm...I see.

- Yes... I don't like to do it, but sometimes it's the only option I have.

- Don't blame yourself. Alfred does the same with Bruce... although shooting a dart at the old man is a little exaggerated.

Raven laughed a little for what he had said, and they continued in silence.

- Are you and the spawn going seriously?

- He proposed to me a few days ago.

- Wow... did he bring you someone's head in sign of their eternal love?

- He gave me a ring, Jason. Just like any man does.

- Well you can't blame me. Just because he got quieter, doesn't mean he got normal... marriage?

She nodded

- That boy doesn't give a shit... does that mean you're going to lay eggs some of these days?

Something else was heard breaking and Jason said.

- Oh... poor camellias. Who will have water that satiate their thirst for life?

- Mr. Pennyworth told me that of all the Robins, your talent for humor was only comparable to your insolence.

She said as she again cleaned up the mess she had made.

- Alfred knows about his Robins.

- We plan to have a family... we've talked about it.

- That's good. More than for you for Alfred and Bruce. Alfred has always wanted the Wayne family to continue and Bruce… That idiot needs to be a grandfather. It would be the only normal thing he could have. Even Damian wasn't normal.

- I have been told stories of Talia…

- Yes... the Al Ghul...

- What about you??

- Me what?

- Do you have anyone to introduce us for Christmas dinner?

- No... it's not my style.

- Oh, come on Jason. I've seen you and Barbara. Why don't you try?

- No... I'm very fond of Barbara… enough not to screw up her life.

Raven did not expect that answer from the masked young man. He took her by surprise and preferred not to continue with the subject.

- It would also be very uncomfortable to bring some of my "couples"

- I don't think it's that bad...…

- I've been with all the girls on the team, Raven.

Raven was frozen in the face of confession.

- ... ¿Kori?...

- Yes... ooooh yes... The red one is one of my top 10.

- Are you kidding me?!

- No, I have the burns to prove it.

The girl covered her mouth in surprise from what she had heard.

- How could you?

- Have you seen her naked? She is hotter than my motorcycle ... and I love my motorcycle!

- But Richard...

- He doesn't know... and that guy doesn't have a face to criticize Kori at all...

- Who else?

- Well... I had a rub with Stephanie...

- ...

- And the spawn's mom.

- You're crazy. Did you know that? Totally mental.

Said the magician, incredulous of what she heard.

- If Damian finds out about this...

- He knows

- WHAT?

- The remote control broke... my condolences.

- WHAT DO YOU MEAN, HE KNOWS?

- I told him once.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

- I slept with your mom.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

- What did he tell you?

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

- You didn't sleep with her. She used you. I saw my mother use men and women as sex toys several times to make up for my father's absence. So, don't brag about it... you were nothing but a talking dildo.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

- ...

- To tell you the truth, it is one of the kindest things he has ever told me.

- …

- Ok... Well, I have to go. I have to find a cult leader and blow his brains off. Thank you for the coffee and introspection of my sentimental life. I'll make an appointment for next week. See ya…

He said as he wentout, throwing himself out the window.

- The inability to use a door...

She said the magician turning off the lights to go back to her bed next to the young man who had been sleeping all this time. Before putting himself back next to him, she stroked the young man's hair with his hand and smiled.

- I can't believe you're the most normal.

#Damian Wayne #raven #damirae #damian x raven #damian raven

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ziracona · 3 years

Text

[FGO AU -- The Kid (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, ?)

“…Still nothing?” Her hands are perfectly still, muscles tensed and brow furrowed with all the concentration I ever seen on any mage, but, I think she can tell the answer before I give her a sympathetic smile. “AUGH,” she exclaims, flinging herself back unhappily into her seat, “Why! I’m trying my hardest! I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong!”

The mage folds over like a camp chair and deflates with unhappy sounds, sliding back against her own seat.

“Hey, come on now,” I try reassuringly, “It’s not so bad. I don’t know any magic at all, but pretty much all skills take more than an hour to come together.”

She lets out another long sigh and blows some hair out of her face, then straightens up a little. “Yeah, I know,” she admits, “But it’s not like I only tried today. Actually, I’ve…been trying to practice it like all week. So I’d be ready…”

Whoa.

I…guess I shouldn’t be surprised—I keep underestimating her, and her level of plannin’. She strikes me as impulsive, and she is—to the core—but, she’s smart too, and reasonable. Knows how it works, and thinks, just, goes for the long shots anyway. It’s a combination of traits I both like and can relate to.

“Still,” I offer, “You ain’t got a teacher, ‘n mage stuff’s complicated to learn.” She still looks incredibly down, but she nods as she stares vacantly through the bed past me. “…’Sides,” I add, “That medicine you gave me’s helpin’ a lot already—I’m feelin quite a bit better. And you don’t need to worry about havin’ to heal me, sooner or later. I’m getting’ a steady supply of mana from you, even if it’s slow, so my spirit core’s rebuildin’. It’s just gonna take it a little time. It won’t be like a real—human—bullet wound would be to heal.”

“Really?” she asks, perking up immediately.

“…Yeah.” I’m kinda surprised she didn’t know that. Girl seems to have a roulette-wheel of a library about my kind in her head. “At this pace, I should be back on my feet by mornin’.” Crap, it is morning. I forgot. I give the blinds a glance. “Or, --I mean a few hours.”

“That fast?” she asks, eyes widening.

I shrug, which hurts. Ow. Why…do I keep doing that? OW. DAMN it, Bill. When I’m not moving, I forget how much the entire left side of my chest is in agony when I do. “Not back to normal, but, on my feet,” I manage with my teeth clenched, trying not to let on how much that hurt.

She nods, thinking that over. “Can I do anything to help speed it up?”

I still can’t get used to that.

Kid’s so….fervent, and sincere. And nice to me. I’ve been awake for maybe an hour with her now, and I’m still not remotely used to it.

I refocus quick, and give her a smile. “Not more than you already have.”

“I could get you more food,” she suggests eagerly.

That’s probably true, actually, and I could use it. Just. “…Well, if you got some,” I stutter out. I am not used to feeling flustered, but I am realizing quick I am even less used to people bein nice to me. The odd heroic spirit maybe, but humans? Feels totally off now. Like I’ve snuck in somewhere I’m not supposed to be.

Happy, the kid snags her tray, but before she can leave I say, “—Actually though, uh, --before you go—I’m realizin spectacularly late here you still haven’t told me your name.”

She freezes with her hand on the tray and her face turns red. “CRAP, YOU’RE RIGHT!” the mage whips around to face me and gives a distressed bow. “I’m so sorry—I can’t believe—”

“—I-It’s fine, really,” I assure her, “Just you got me at a little bit of a disadvantage right now-”

“—Right! I-I’m sorry. I totally forgot! I’m Ritsuka Fujimaru,” she says, offering me a hand. It takes me a second to get she wants me to shake it, and I awkwardly do.

“Ritsuka Fujimaru,” I echo, “Well, you already know my name, but seein’ as I got several to pick from, Billy’s good. –Oh, uhm—you got a name you prefer me to call you?”

“Uh.” She gives me a glazed stare like someone looking at an oncoming train. “My…friends in high school called me ‘Gudako’ sometimes.”

I stare right back and forget to take back my hand from our handshake. Damn!! “…Your friends weren’t too nice, huh?” I offer sympathetically.

Her face turns crimson and she gives me a look saying she was praying and expecting that I wouldn’t know what that meant and is crying on the inside that I do, and I feel real bad for her that we spirits get such decent language translation built into us on summon. “No,” she offers in a tiny, beaten voice, staring past me.

It’s real hard not to grin, but I beat the impulse down internally with a shovel and give a sympathetic smile instead. “Well, I really just meant ‘do you prefer ‘Ritsuka’ or ‘Fujimaru’,’” She turns a deeper shade and I see her wish for death a little. “But if it’s any consolation, I would definitely not describe you as boring.”

The kid finally looks me in the eye again, a bit like a kicked dog, but she smiles back after a second and seems to bounce back with it. We both remember we’re still holding hands then and let go.

“Well, thank you,” she says like she means that, “I guess I’m not this week anyway.”

“Hardly,” I agree with a smile.

She returns it and takes the tray and goes back into the kitchenette I gotta assume is back there somewhere, and I get another second to think alone.

I’m doin’ better—a lot, I think. So far I think I’ve been up something close to an hour. All this is very strange to me, and it’s not been a great couple of months, but I’m feelin’ less and less dead by the minute, and the answer to ‘does pain medication work on Heroic Spirits’ seems to be a solid ‘yes’—which—considerin alcohol still does and I knew that, in retrospect shouldn’t be such a surprise to me. A glad one though, for sure. Still.

What now? That’s the real question.

Kid says she just wants to help, and at this point I mostly believe that. There’s usually a catch somewhere down the line, but maybe not. I do think at the least she thinks she means it right now. …And…and. I wish that was all I had to worry about. But, the less pain I feel, the clearer I’m starting to think, and either way, she’s right; I can’t just go back to the throne, or I’ll get resummoned. I’m stuck here like this, tied to her right now. But I can’t stay here indefinitely, and neither can she—actually, come to think of it, if they got any kind of security at that workshop, she might be in danger now, for breaking me out. Mages are…known for their ruthlessness. There could be people already on the way to deal with her. Okay. Better find that out, and fast.

Then, third and last on the list of things for me to figure out and deal with is those mages themselves. And that’s the big one. I’m not the only one of us that’s gonna happen to, if it ain’t already happened to more of us, and I can’t leave the place like that. If they have more spirits already, I need to break them out. And either way, I need to destroy that research and probably the people in charge, so they don’t just rebuild, or they absolutely will. And fast. Not sure this new master is just gonna let me go on a wild murder tear either, though, no matter my motives. Which is a problem…

She’s back then, though, so I’m out of time to focus.

“More okayu, plus some chocolate, if you’re feeling good enough,” she offers hopefully, setting her tray back down, “and I brought you some tea too.”

See that’s the problem, I think mournfully at the sight, I can’t do nothin’, but I can’t just betray her after this either, even if I got a good reason! No one’s ever been this good to me—I can’t just go lie to her and then pull a bunch of bloodshed on her dime—even if she don’t sign off on it, she’ll find out, and she’ll feel responsible, and she’s a kid, I’ll have done that to her! I don’t wanna give some kid who saved me a bunch of guilt trauma! After all this? …Hell. I… But I can’t do nothin’ –I can’t. I got friends in the Throne, and even if I didn’t, I ain’t about to allow that to keep on goin’. We don’t deserve that; it ain’t right. But if I tell her what I got in mind, she might use a command spell and bind me, so. …But still. I can’t… I can’t…do either, but. …Maybe I could convince her to absolve the contract, and get it done after that and before I vanish, just, once I got more strength? I got my Independent Action that could keep me goin’ for a little—even Gunner, I got a lot of my Archer traits, so, once I’m healed, it might be enough to get- …No. Ain’t enough. She’d still see what happened, and know the only reason I got it done was her. Same problem as before. Shit. Shit, this sucks… I’ll be doing somethin terrible no matter what, then…

And I know myself. And that the thing I’m eventually gonna do is not leave that place standin’ with people like me trapped dyin’ inside it. As much regret and guilt as that’s gonna buy me too…

“What?”

I glance up, and she’s got her head cocked. I gotta stop bein’ an open book here. Let me think…

“About Ur-shanabi,” I start hesitantly, “Master, did—”

Her expression changes drastically to distress and she immediately cuts me off. “—Oh, please don’t call me that.”

I forgot I even said it, so it takes me a second to get what she means. “’Master’?”

“Please?” she says again, “I know you’re supposed to, and I’m supposed to call you my servant, but I really hate that.”

Everything else I’ve been thinkin’ about just kinda shuts off and I stare at her, blink. … Y…yeah, me too. Always…

“You’re all heroes, or famous artists, or explorers, or fighters, and we’re just mages. –I mean, even if it was different, I’m pretty sure I’d still hate it,” she continues with a sigh, somewhere deep in thought in her own head, but she comes back and meets my gaze, “But please don’t. I don’t want you to have to think of me that way either. I guess I don’t know how this all usually works in a lot of detail, and I know you’re stuck bound to me right now, but I don’t want you to worry I’m gonna try to make you obey me. I won’t! That’s not why I helped you!” She looks so intense. Leaned forward, one palm on the bed, look on her face that makes me believe she means it. “I want you to know I’m never gonna do that; I mean it. I won’t ever use a command spell on you to make you do something you don’t want to do, I promise.”

Her eyes are amber and bright like coals and full of intent. I find it impossible to look away.

“Not ever. I don’t want to try to use you or control you; I. …I’m…really just trying to help…” She finishes, pulling back once she’s made her statement and looking just a little embarrassed only now it’s done.

“…Well, good,” I finally find my voice, “Because I’ve never been much for the Master-Servant thing anyway. Can’t ever seem to stick to it, and it tends to cause problems down the road.”

She smiles back, happy with my answer and that I’ve accepted her proposal.

Some kind of a mage... This is…almost too much to really even understand right now, but I think she…meant it. She thinks she did. I’m beginin to think calling her a mage at all was plain off. She’s somethin’ else. I always think the kid’s thrown me for about as many loops as she can, and then I get knocked down again, and it’s been less than a day. Don’t bode well and really does for me at the same time.

“’Boss’ then?” I suggest, but I can instantly sense her dislike.

“’Partner?’” she counters hopefully.

That does have a much better ring to it, I gotta say. “Partner,” I concede with a wink, “If you’re sure that’s what you want.”

Never had a master that wanted me to un-know my place before.

“Well, you could also call me ‘Ritsuka’,” she says hopefully and then immediately becomes embarrassed. “Uhm,” she hurries, glancing away when I grin at her, “A-And you’re sure you prefer ‘Billy’? Not Henry?”

Lord it’s been a while since anyone called me that. Sends me a long, long way back. And not really in a good way. I appreciate the thought though.

“No,” I reply.

She seems surprised a little, but I can tell she’s not gonna press me, so, there’s really no reason to say this, but for some reason I want to tell her.

“That’s my middle name, actually,” I say.

“Huh?” says the girl.

“Henry,” I clarify, “Middle name. It’s William Henry McCarty, actually.”

Her brow furrows. “…But I thought…?”

“Step-dad had the same name, and it was too many for one household, so mine got shortened,” I gloss over, “Took it back when I picked my own name on the lamb.”

“So. …You outlaw-named yourself … ‘Your Name The Hot One’?”

It’s my turn to suffer nickname shame, though I’m not too ashamed of that, because it’s pretty funny. Does suckerpunch me a little to get called on it more than 100 years later.

“…I-I don’t know…” I answer automatically before thinking of what to say, “Maybe. …yeah.”

She almost chokes on a laugh. I grin.

“I mean, if you got the opportunity—wouldn’t you? I’m just sayin,” I say casually, past the slight amount of embarrassment I felt and pretty proud of myself again. It was a slick name.

“It’s got flair,” she says approvingly.

“Thank you,” I reply.

“So, what were you gonna ask—before I interrupted you?” she asks, picking up the cup of tea and offering it to me. I take it, feeling immense guilt as our hands touch for a second and I’m stuck thinkin about all the things she’s done for me for no reason other than bein’ kind, and the fact I’m definitely going to turn on that and her, and how awful that is.

I…wonder if it would make things some kind of right if I came back and let her kill me after? No. No, that’d make it worse. Mage or not, I don’t think this kid’s ever hurt anyone. I don’t know what I can do to soften taking this kind of kindness and drawing blood with it, but…

“Ur-shanabi,” I say quietly, working hard to pass off my internal distress as distraction as I hold the little clay cup and feel the warmth. It smells good. I know I have to drink it, and I’ll feel physically better, but everything nice I accept is piling on guilt.

…I wish. I wish I had a choice here, but I can’t let them keep this goin’. I wish I knew a way to make that right, or at least explain to you I’m sorry. And everything she says and does just makes this worse! I don’t want to hurt her. I really don’t. In any other situation, I wouldn’t, but I have to, and I hate it. I don’t want to betray her. I don’t want to make her regret showing me kindness. I don’t want her to feel the way it feels to not do something cold but safe, and then get shot for it.

Hot water slips over the top of my hand and I jerk back and just spill more of the tea, sucking in a sharp breath at the unexpected pain.

“Whoa! –Are you okay?” she asks worriedly, passing me a napkin and leaning over to catch onto my hand and help steady the cup and what’s left inside it, “What happened? Are you feeling worse again?”

Hell! My hands are shaking and I can’t quite get them to stop. Calm down. You don’t gotta do anything right now. You can feel bad later. Just think a second.

“Nah—s-sorry,” I manage, trying to smile at her and not quite sure how well I do, “I uh—I guess I’m just still a little weaker than I thought. I’m fine now.”

“Here,” she says, brow all scrunched up in concern, taking back the tea and passing me the ice pack to set on my hand.

I hate this. I’m terrible. It ain’t fair—it ain’t wrong for me to go back, I gotta, but. I hate this. I hate it.

I take the pack and try to look grateful. “Thanks.”

“Sorry about your hand,” she says.

I wave it off. “It’s already done hurting.”

“…” She waits a second, leaned a little forward expectantly, and I forget what for until she prompts me again. “What? About Ur-shanabi?”

“Oh,” I say. Right. “I was gonna ask how much you know about their operation. –How you even ended up in the right place at all.”

“Oh,” she says, and she loses some color.

Huh?

“Uhm,” she glances away, then back, and seems more herself, but I’m not sure I buy it this time. I don’t think she’s lyin’, per-se, but there’s something else she’s not saying. “Well. I’m from a mage family, but, not a ‘mage’ family—we know about magic, I did—growing up. But, I didn’t ever get any formal training, or anything. So I guess it was more like mage-adjacent in a lot of ways. There was this test I heard about from a friend—a research project on magical circuits, and I was curious.” She glances down at her legs again, but this time she looks far away and almost happy, like she’s revisiting a better moment in her head. “I’d always been curious about myself and magic, and I was excited, because if you participated in the research project, you got to know stuff they found out about your magical circuits—stuff you might be good at.” She glances up at me and gives me an embarrassed smile. “It sounded really cool. I had wanted to know for so long, and I thought—I still think—it would be really great to learn how to do more magic. So, I went.”

The girl—nope—Ritsuka, thinks for a second, then holds out her hand and looks at it. “Apparently I’ve got really unusual circuits.”

“Unusual?” I echo, kind of intrigued. I know jack-all about magic, but I am curious.

She glances over and nods. “Yeah. I thought I did really badly in the study, because I didn’t know any real spells at all, and everyone else did. They pulled me aside after and I thought they were just going to kick me out before we even got results, but, apparently my circuits were so unusual they wanted to do a case study. I’ve got ‘Almost no practical control or ability to utilize them, but possess a nearly inhuman amount of mana.’”

“Really?” I ask. I can’t feel that at all. I’m getting enough to keep me sustained, sure, but that’s it.

“I know, right?” she agrees, nodding and leaning forward, “That’s what I said! But apparently I do. They asked me if I’d come in to do more studies, and I said yes, because I was also curious. And that was Ur-shanabi. I’ve been going there for a while now,” she adds, then stops, gives me a guilty look, then looks away and keeps going in an almost dejected tone. “Uh. But I worked, or, was allowed in, I guess, a totally different part of the building. You were up on the 12th floor. I was on the 4th, R&D testing labs.”

“Oh,” I say, very confused by this reaction from her, and a little concerned by it too if I’m honest, “What brought you up to the 12th?”

“The mage I met with the most was named Nakata. He worked in a lot of projects more important than mine too. I think that was maybe the only time I was ever on the 12th floor,” she answers, “That day, I showed up and waited for a couple hours, and he never showed up in R&D. There were other people who wanted to use the room we usually used for another test, so I asked if I should go home, and the secretary said yes, but I bumped into Dr. Nakata in the elevator on my way out. He said he’d been swamped by a last-minute schedule change, and still wanted to do our test, but he’d be maybe another hour, and that I should just wait for him by his office. Which, is on the 12th floor. I was just standing there, and this big group of mages went into a large room at the end of the hall, so I was curious and watched them, and.” She shrugs.

Yeah, I can fill in the rest.

“I guess you don’t know a lot about what they were doing with me, then,” I say, a little disappointed. Any new information would have been useful. I don’t know that I expected another answer, though.

“…Actually, yes,” says Ritsuka, looking uncomfortable. I glance at her in surprise and she looks flustered and guilty and glances away again. “Uhm. After I saw you, I asked Dr. Nakata what was going on up here, and who you were.”

You coulda been killed, I think in a frozen kind of horror. What were you thinking?

“He told me,” she says simply, “You were a heroic spirit, and they were doing tests on things you could do using them. He even told me what the test was.”

I don’t know what to think or how to feel about that, so I just listen. I wonder why on earth he’d tell her?

She glances up and holds my gaze this time, an undercurrent of almost…incensed feeling somewhere deep in her eyes. “He said they had found a way to keep a summoned spirit away from the throne for a long time at low mana cost, and instead use the connection to their Saint Graph and essence as a fixed unit outside of time now, to generate a potentially limitless source of energy. To…make a heroic spirit into a battery.” I can tell while the rest of it was her echoing, the last statement is her own, and she’s bitter. “I asked how, and he told me,” she continues, “He said you had to trap one right between life and death, so they would give as little presence as possible to anything looking, and wouldn’t find a way to escape or retaliate on their own, but couldn’t actually vanish either. ‘An art and a science, to find the perfect thread to stop at, and keep them in place on the edge of death.’ Stuck. In pain, and too weak to fight back, but here.”

She lets out a long sigh and glances at me and says, “I said that sounded awful, and what about the spirits, and he told me a lot of stuff about heroic spirits being familiars that are meant to serve mankind in whatever way they’re summoned for, no matter how painful, and aren’t people anymore and that’s their intended use.”

Ow. I mean, it’s not new; I hear this from mages all the time, but it’s never fun to hear one say it right to your face. Fuckin mages…

“But, I think he could tell I didn’t like it, even though I was a little scared by then and trying not to seem as much like it,” she continues, glancing down at her hands, “And he told me ‘Don’t trouble yourself. You’re new to this, but it’s a normal part of being a mage. If it helps you rest easier, the one we summoned was Billy the Kid, an outlaw and a murderer from the old American west,’ a-and. That…” her voice gets quieter, like suddenly she thinks maybe she shouldn’t have said any of this, “…I could think of it as divine punishment, in a way. And not have to feel bad.”

…

That. It really shouldn’t bother me to hear. People always act like that to me. Even when I was alive. I think about being sent to hang for a murder I didn’t commit for a moment. I had so many murders on my record by the end of it, but I’ve never pulled a trigger that wasn’t in self-defense or a last resort. But it’s never mattered. You are what people make of you, in the public eye, and in history I guess, no matter what the truth is. And eventually that tends to push you to an ending written about the person you’re described as. I never thought of any of the fights I was in as murder. I guess it’s been a long time since I could even pretend that mattered to anyone but me, though.

…I still hate it.

It hurts. Not so much people sayin’ that—don’t care too much what people think; I know who I am. But, the fact that it just straight up don’t matter what’s true, at all. Even a little… I could have lived a completely different life and not been remembered as any worse at all.

“He thought I’d agree with that.” Her voice is angry. I glance back up, train of thought broken, and Ritsuka looks as mad as she sounded, somewhere else in her head too. It’s a quiet, deep anger. “I didn’t.”

There’s something about how she looks, like she’s an embodiment of what she’s saying, and again it becomes hard to look away if I’d wanted.

“He was wrong. I guess there are some people who deserve to die,” she continues, “I’ve thought about that. About if I think if…if someone killed my family or something, I’d want them to have to die too for it. If I think that’s fair, and right. But. …Even if some people probably deserve to die, nobody deserves to be just kept in pain forever. Even the worst people. I don’t know how anyone could think after more than a day anybody at all could possibly know it’s right to go on hurting someone. Not even the worst person.” She looks distressed by that for a moment, then glances back at me and smiles a little. “I decided that, and that I was going to try to do something, and then I went home and looked you up, and you didn’t even sound that bad.” Her eyes go big immediately and she looks mortified. “—Wait—That sounded bad! I’m sorry! I-I said that wrong. I—I meant—I didn’t—I just mean—he’d said—uh—a-and you didn’t sound like—it seemed like you weren’t so—like stuff went wrong for you more than you were a bad person actually, a-and you didn’t seem like you were really a murderer—"

The poor kid is sweating buckets now. I think she thinks she’ll have offended me sayin’ that, but it’s very much the opposite.

“—I should stop talking. I’m sorry. I-I just—uhm. You were different sounding than I thought before I looked you up is the only thing I was trying to say—I’m so sorry I don’t know why I said any of it at all!” She gives up and hunches over apologetically in shame.

“…I ain’t mad,” I try to assure her after a second.

Ritsuka glances up between her bangs and gives me a sorrowful, worried look.

“…I…think I actually appreciate that,” I continue after a second, figuring it out as I go and then giving her a smile, “I ain’t sure what you read about me, or how true it was, but I’ll take what goodwill I can get.” She raises her head a little more, but still looks worried, so I keep going. “Ain’t offended me—I get it. You were already thinkin of doin’ something dangerous. Gotta know what you’re in for best you can, with a heroic spirit. Only smart to try’n be prepared.”

Looking a little better, she cautiously un-hunches. “Yeah. …I really didn’t mean to say it how I did, though. I don’t think you’re bad! I mean, I know I don’t know you, but I-”

I hold up a hand. I feel like after all this, I really oughta let her off the hook.

“Don’t worry about it,” I say with a sure smile, “You don’t gotta explain yourself, or tell me what you thought, or what you think now. I don’t have to know. I’m aware you’re takin’ a risk on me, especially with my kind of record, and I appreciate it. Probably ain’t easy for you.”

Shit, haven’t thought about that before, but it’s true. Kid might have command seals, but I’m quick, and she’s not experienced. Pretty much any heroic spirit she summoned that wanted to could kill her easy. She didn’t think to use one immediately to order me to not. I’ve been so strung out and nervous of her, I haven’t thought for a second about the fact she’s probably scared of me.

“…Uhm. In light of that, Ma- Partner,” I correct, “I’d like to set a few things straight for you, if you don’t mind?”

She seems to recover a little, straightens up and gives me a very serious nod.

“If you’re worried about me, don’t be. Whatever you heard, truth is I never killed anybody except when it was them or me, or I was defendin’ someone else. I never was a fan of it, either. Only crimes I ever set out to commit were thefts, mostly outa need,” I say, “Where I grew up, once you had a reputation, that was all you had left. I stole food when I was on my own at sixteen, and there weren’t no turning back after that. ‘Bout that simple.”

The gal’s listening attentively, head cocked. Takin this serious. And I’m still thinkin over how this has probably been for her. Angering a group of powerful mages is scary enough. Now she’s contracted to an outlaw spirit, and she’s apparently a mage who’s got no real practice usin spells. She’s basically just a civilian. She’s all alone here too, and somethin like sixteen or seventeen, and she’s got no real idea what I’m gonna be like, or want, or do. I’m not in great shape, but I’m still a heroic spirit, and a lot more powerful than her, and I’ve killed people. That’s a pretty good reason to be scared. I don’t want her to be, though. At all.

“I know all you got’s my word on this,” I say, working hard to convey my sincerity, “But it is the truth. More importantly, you saved my life, and I owe you. I really am grateful. I got no plans to try and hurt you; I promise—you got nothing to worry about.”

FUCK. What I’ve just said hits me like a ton of bricks. Fuck, I should’ve phrased that differently!—no no no—damn it damn it; I should have thought about it first! Hell! I am gonna hurt her! Probably. Not physically, which is what I was thinkin’ about when I said that, and meant, but it’s not technically what I said, shit shit shit, I just promised her something I’m gonna break—oh great, and I must have some amount of that showin’ on my face because she actually does look nervous now. I lied and I actually made her more afraid of me. Great job! Damn it damn it damn it.

“I’m really not the kind of person to do that,” I add quickly, trying hard to save it. This is bad this is bad. “I wouldn’t have a reason to anyway, but you definitely don’t gotta worry about me—” Everything I am thinking to say is wrong. All of it. ‘turning on you’ – a lie. ‘repaying that by making you sorry’ – a bigger lie. Shit. And I feel like it now too, more than before. I’m the worst—I’m terrible. I know I don’t have an alternative, and I have to go back, but this is awful, and I feel very appropriate amounts of guilt about it. I deserve this. “attacking you or something,” I go with, even though it sounds weird in my ears, because I don’t want to outright lie again, and even this much is making me feel miserable. “after you’ve been good to me.”

I hate this. I hate myself. Maybe. …Maybe there’s another way, maybe I can… Can…

She smiles for a moment, happy I said that I think, then slowly looks worried. “You look worried.”

Oh. I guess I’m the one who looks worried.

I…

I can’t. There’s nothing I can do to work this out better than it’s gonna be. I just. …I just…

…Fuck it.

“I am,” I say honestly, turning my head to look at her. She’s so sincere, and so worried. She’s been so good to me. I just. … I just… “I’m worried about Ur-shanabi,” I say, so sure I’m going to regret this in seconds, but doing it anyway because of some deep inherent flaw in who I am, “I’m okay right now, but I figure with me gone, they’ll just take another one of us and do the same thing. If they haven’t already.”

I watch slow horror creep over her face as that clicks. “…I. Would…? Oh. They will. And it’ll be my fault.” she says, glazed-over expression on her face.

What? “No!” I say immediately, “That it’s someone else and not me? It ain’t your fault. It’s theirs—they’re the only ones doin’ it, aren’t they?”

She comes back to herself a little and looks at me, but her face is still drained of color.

“It won’t be your fault,” I say again, “That’s ridiculous, and you know it. …They will keep doin’ it, though. Probably to more and more of us, if they can. Probably they’ll sell the idea to other mages too.” I hesitate, give myself one last solid chance to reconsider this, and don’t. Just pray for luck. I’ve gotten a lot of it the last 24 hours—maybe I have a pinch left. “…Unless I find a way to go back and stop them pretty fast. It’s that, or this is gonna keep happening to us. And it’s only gonna get worse. …I got friends, in the throne. …I don’t want that to happen to any of them. Even for the ones I don’t know, even the ones I don’t like, it’s like you said: nobody deserves that. So. I think. …I gotta go back.”

Her eyes are huge and I can see her running what this means, trying to process it all. I’m praying she’ll agree with me, but it’s such a long shot to get from an idealistic teen.

“Please!” I try, going for the best pitch I can before she decides to force me not to, “I-I know you’ve met those people, and I’m askin’ a lot, but at least think about it. You helped me because you knew what they were doing was wrong—I know it too, and I’m the only one in a position to shut it down. I can’t do nothing, and this is the only way to end it. You don’t know what it’s like. We-“ I’m getting to desperate, and I know it, but I hold up a hand and plow on because so long as I keep talking, she isn’t, and I don’t know what else to try. “—Our bodies are pretty close to what they were before; we feel pain the same, we can just survive more of it. I-I’m lucky, I got shot—I’ve known spirits who were bled to death, or hung, or burned, or decapitated—you can’t imagine what it would be like to be stuck chained down forever with your head just not quite severed all the way enough to kill you. I know it’s not your fight, and it’s not fair for me to ask this, but I have to try and stop them. And I—can’t. Without an anchor. Please...”

Maybe this won’t be a terrible idea. Maybe it won’t backfire on me immediately. Maybe she’ll let me go. Maybe she’ll understand. Maybe I won’t have to—

For a moment, she stares at me, motionless. Then her eyes well up.

Damn it. Damn it; I knew! I knew she’d feel like she had to stop me, and I showed her my hand because I felt bad, and now promise or no, she—

“I’m so sorry…” she whispers, and I’m fully expecting the threat of a command spell to follow that, but instead she tucks her knees up to her chest and folds over into a little ball and starts crying again.

I don’t…rightly know what to do about that, so for a second I just stare at her like an idiot.

“I know it was bad,” I hear muffled and choked up from the little bundle she’s made herself into, “I. I don’t—don’t know how awful it was, I know, but I know it was—I know it was so bad. And it’s my fault it was you.”

What?

“You have to go back?” she asks pleadingly, looking up at me for a second from over her knees, like she’s asking me if I gotta go die in a war, “What if they catch you and put you back where you were? O-or kill you and just summon you into a trap again? I’ll never get back in if—”

“Wait, what do you mean ‘your fault’?” I ask, still stuck on that and very lost again. So much so she’s halfway through her next paragraph before I even clock that me potentially getting trapped again is the only thing she has immediately objected to.

Ritsuka looks at me with her big, tearful eyes, then looks defeatedly at her knees. “…I. One day, several months ago, I showed up for a research day and Doctor Nakata had these boxes on the table, and a bunch of papers.” The kid looks and sounds completely miserable, and exhausted. “I didn’t know what any of it was, so I asked him. He said it was for another project, and to just wait a few minutes while he packed it up. …And then he changed his mind, and said actually, would I come over? He told me they were deciding between a few candidates for a project, and at this point it didn’t really matter which one they started with, and would I like to pick one. I asked what the project was, and he said it was a secret. But, it looked so important, and cool, and I wanted to be involved, so I said yes please, and I went up and picked. I didn’t know what they were.”

Ritsuka grimaces and looks sadder, rests her chin on her knees and exhales slowly. “No, I think I did. I just didn’t know what they were for. I could sense they were all magical, and they were all odd, and specific. An old little clay vase. A shuriken. An earring. A coin. A letter. And a photograph.”

I stare. She makes herself look up at me, and I can see how sorry she feels. “I picked the photograph.”

Ah.

“He even told me later,” she adds quietly, all the spunk gone, “That I picked you. When I asked, after seeing—”

“Good.”

She looks up quickly, surprised.

“I appreciate you feelin’ bad for me,” I continue sympathetically, “But it ain’t your fault, what happened to me. You didn’t know what was goin’ on, and if it hadn’t been me, it’d have just been someone else. Luck of the draw; just how life happens. On top of that, they’d have gone after every one of us on that list eventually, and if I hadn’t been here and now with you, I might not have ever gotten out.” It’s true, and I give her a smile. “Also, this whole thing is a pretty big relief.”

“A relief?” she echoes, confused.

I nod. “You get summoned with a catalyst, ain’t much you can do but show up, like it or not, but I wanted to answer the call when I got it. Up till now I thought my sixth sense had plain stopped workin’ or something. I guess it was actually just because I thought I was answerin’ your call.”

She looks confused for a moment, then smiles slowly. “…Really?”

I give a little head tilt. “Best I can guess.” I honestly don’t know if a summon can work that way at all, but I’d like to think so, and why not? Makes us both feel better.

I meet her gaze and try and get her to smile back, and this time it works.

“I really am sorry,” she says, “even if you’re not mad.”

“Well thank you,” I say, accepting the apology, “But consider it behind us.”

Something she said earlier that I had running in the back of my head comes through hard, and I feel the bottom of my stomach drop out.

“…You said a coin?” I ask, really, really, really hoping my gut feeling is wrong for once.

She nods, catching my expression and getting sympathetically worried along with me.

“…Was it kinda silver, with a face on one side, and a short cross and some words on the back?” I ask.

“Uh. I only saw one side, but it did have a face,” she says nervously.

“Was there a scratch across it? Deep? Diagonal on the face?”

“Yeah,” she says, surprised, “How did you know? What is it?”

Oh no. Oh shit that’s bad. Okay. Okay, this is gonna be okay. I can figure this out. He might not even be here yet, and I can snag the coin and he’ll be fine. All this means for sure is that I have to figure this out, more than before now.

“A friend,” I answer when I remember I need to, “—a catalyst to summon one, I mean.”

“Oh,” she says in a voice like I feel.

For a moment, we look at each other in silence. I got no idea what she’s thinking, but my mind’s far away and frantic, trying to piece together some kind of plan.

“…What do we do?” she asks.

“Huh?”

“You said you gotta go back in,” says Ritsuka as I refocus on her, and I can see she’s come to some kind of decision, “And need me to help, and now you know they’re gonna hurt your friend unless we can stop them. I’ll help you, but I don’t know how. How do we go back and stop them?”

I gape.

“…You…want to help me?”

She gives a nod, looking confused that I’d ask her.

“You-? I mean—it might. …I might have to…shoot someone,” I say. Wow. Great job Billy you sure did sugar coat that and make it sound real fine. Nicely done.

Her eyes widen, and she glances away, hesitates. Then says slowly, “…But if we don’t, they’ll keep torturing heroic spirits for energy.” Working through it herself.

“That’s about it,” I agree sympathetically. It…can’t be easy for her. She’s a civilian, a kid. And she seems like a bleedin’ heart who doesn’t want to hurt anyone. She’s already been a lot more understanding towards my perspective than I expected.

“…So it’ll be bad either way,” she says finally, looking back and meeting my gaze.

I’m kind of taken aback that she’s put it into almost the same words I did to myself, but I nod.

“…That sucks,” she says to herself sadly.

“Yeah,” I agree quietly, looking at my own knees and thinking it over.

“…Is there a way to do it without killing anyone?” she asks after a second, hopeful.

Probably not. Even if I destroyed the whole building, there’s the people in charge who know how to do it, and can and will rebuild. I think she can see that on my face, because her expression falls.

“I…don’t know for sure,” I answer, “But. I think…probably not. … They’d rebuild. –Not all of them—not all of them would know how, but, at least a few will.”

She stares off at nothing, thinking.

I feel worse, somehow. Thought I was doing the nicer thing, basically giving her a chance to stop me, and risking my success. But. Now I think maybe I’ve accidentally been more heartless.

She shouldn’t have to carry a choice like this. Life ain’t fair, and I know that, but I’m finding I like being on the giving end of that even less than the receiving.

“…How old are you?”

The mage turns and looks at me, surprised, and flushes a little. “…I. S-seventeen?”

“Yeah?” I ask.

She nods.

Seventeen. She’s about the age I was when my life started really fallin apart. I hate being a part of that for someone else. I don’t want to.

“You don’t have to have anything to do with it,” I offer quietly, “You could dissolve our contract. Fifty-fifty chance I get the job done before I vanish, fifty—”

“—No!” she cuts in adamantly before I’m even halfway through my pitch, “No way! You’d get trapped there again! That’d be even worse! I made a deal with you to protect you if you trusted me! I’m not just gonna abandon you now.”

I blink. Tilt my head, taken aback by her fervor.

Did you? Is that what the contract was to her? I try to recall her words. ‘My soul becomes your will; your spirit becomes my destiny.’ Right, she said that wrong. But what I want to remember is before that. I try hard. “Please—If you die, they’ll summon you back! I-I can ground you! I can keep you here!” I can’t see much in the image in my head, but I can hear it, I can feel it—the pain and her hand on mine.

…I guess she did.

I don’t know how to respond to that. Look down at my own hand, playing it again in my head.

The kid is thinking still, her brow furrowed with worry. Taps the edge of the little bedside table agitatedly with a finger. “…So. Either we find a way to destroy their research, and get any other spirits they have out, and…maybe fight some of the people in charge,” she says finally, “…or they keep on doing this to you all, forever. There’s no other way things can go? You’re sure?”

I’ve already thought about it, but she’s so sincere and sad I think again, and then nod.

She sees that and glances at her hands and then back at me. “Then. …I guess we have to go back and stop them. You’re right.”

I stare at her. A-are you serious? Even as such a bleeding heart, you really—?

“But nobody gets hurt that doesn’t have to, okay?” she adds fervently, “And. I-I want to try to talk to the people in charge first! I know they won’t change their minds and it’s probably a waste, but.”

“—We can try,” I agree readily, overcome with relief, “Are you sure, though? You don’t have to stay contracted to me, and you sure as hell don’t have to come. You—you’ve already taken a lot of risks for me, big ones, and I know I’m basically returnin that favor by involving you in bloodshed. I don’t want to do that.”

It’s her turn to look surprised, and she blinks and tilts her head right back at me, and for some reason it makes me feel a whole lot better and a whole lot worse at the same time. But also more like I understand her.

“You’re not doing anything to me,” she says simply, “They’re the ones doing something that has to be stopped. It’s not your fault you’re the one who knows about it.”

I…guess that’s true. Feel like I’m getting my own words thrown back at me; maybe I am.

“It sucks,” she adds, “And I’m scared. I don’t want to hurt anybody, or get anyone else hurt. But. Mom and Dad always said it’s just as bad to stand by and let somebody be hurt as it is to hurt them yourself, if you could have done something about it. So. I want to help you, and I will.”

“You’re sure?” I ask again, “It’s…it’s a whole lot, and it ain’t gonna be easy, or safe, and you’re—” If I say ‘a kid’ I think she’s gonna get offended because I would have when I was seventeen. “Young. It shouldn’t be on you to fix.”

“Well, you’re young too,” she says.

Ow. I’m twenty-one. I know I’m short, but at least I’m an adult.

“And you’re mostly dead, so let’s just agree it’s unfair for both of us, but we’re partners, and someone has to do it, and we’re here, so that’s us,” she says very diplomatically.

I give up and sigh, then offer her a hand. “If you’re sure, Partner.”

She takes my hand and shakes it.

“So, what can I do?” she asks as she lets go.

“Well, anything you know about the building’s layout’ll help, and what defenses they might have. Mostly, I just need to get back to fighting shape,” I answer.

She nods. “Food, then?”

I give in again and smile. “Thanks.”

#fate grand order AU #fate series #fate fic #writing #billy the kid #ritsuka fujimaru #fate go #The Kid #The Kid (fic)#I wish I had as much time as my heart wants for writing :'-]#'Gudako' basically means 'boring girl'. and Billy called himself William Bonney which is Irish for 'William Attractive' more or less so they #deserve to both be roasted but in the most loving way possible also Ritsuka my dear I'm so sorry your friends suck

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if-you-built-yourself-a-myth · 3 years

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Check Ignition: Part VIII

The Sobbe fake-dating Hogwarts AU that one person requested and I dove into headfirst

First part // Previous part // Next part

Send me requests for other fics, ideas for this one, opinions, whatever! My apologies if the quality seems to have one downhill; I'll be doing minor edits for the sake of readability when I have a good chunk of free time.

“Shhh, guys, leave it,” Jens said. Everyone’s comments died on their tongues. Zoë and Moyo herded the superfluous students from the room and left as well, shutting the door behind. Moyo almost clapped a hand on Robbe’s shoulder, but seemed to think better of it in favor of a saddened smile. It didn’t really help. Robbe wasn’t sure if they ended tonight on good terms.

“We’re going to bed early,” Aaron suggested. “We have to get a jump on those damn exams.”

“Leave it,” hissed Jens.

“I was just saying, we’re—”

“Leave it.”

“It’s a good idea,” said Robbe. “We’re going to bed early.” He hadn’t realized how angry he was all week until faced with its culmination. And now—now he was tired. Stupid and single and tired.

There were still no sheets on his bed; he hadn’t gotten around to doing anything with them. He could perform a cleaning spell on the mattress if it got too bad in their absence. Whatever. Robbe couldn’t be bothered to rifle through his trunk for a cleaner blanket, so he crossed the room and grabbed the one off the fourth bed.

Motherfucker. It smelled like Sander. He really couldn’t win, could he? Robbe threw the blanket to the decimated floor and curled up without any covering at all.

“He wasn’t that attractive,” said Jens, breaking his own rule. “Had to get those roots done again.”

Robbe clamped his pillow over his ears. “Shut up.”

“We haven’t been to Hogsmede in a while. Might be nice to go tomorrow. The four of us.”

Hogsmede. Robbe’s eyes burned.

“I need to stop at Honeyduke’s,” Aaron agreed. “It’s Live It Up week.”

“I’d fancy a pint at the Three Broomsticks.”

The Three Broomsticks. Robbe was not going to cry over this. It brought him back to Sander explaining their fake love story to Zoë, all the little accurate details, all the possibility… that’s all it was. A story. You don’t like me. He cast the Muffliato charm across his four-poster before the tears started flowing. Once they started, they didn’t stop until morning.

“You don’t have to tell us a thing,” Jens said. “We understand.”

I want to, Robbe thought. He rolled over and faced the wall for the remainder of the night.

***

As much as he would love to hardcore sulk, Robbe had never been that kind of person. Sander was gone. They weren’t even together for that long, so there wasn’t much sulking warranted. He took Saturday and Sunday as unofficial off-days before exams, in that he spent them with Jens, Moyo, and Aaron, pointedly not talking about Sander. They did not go to the Three Broomsticks. Jens passed a whole afternoon in Honeyduke’s, attempting to sample every flavor of Bertie Bott’s Every-Flavor beans.

Okay, Robbe sulked. But not hardcore.

Robbe resolved that one Monday he would snap out of it in time to guard his outstandingin his five classes. What should he do? What had he learned? He could start there. Starting there was something.

1. He should never drop a class for someone he wasn’t really dating.

Robbe’s Potions exam was the first on Monday, and he went into it grossly unprepared, despite hours of common room studying. There was a large difference between reading theory and enacting what it said. Plus, a lot of his library time focused more on Sander’s eyes than on the written material.

Everyone else chopped up their beans and sprinkled them into their brews without difficulty. Robbe couldn’t remember how many he should use. In the end, he dumped a whole handful in completely whole and stirred counter-clockwise. How much could it hurt, anyway? He left fifteen minutes before the exam period was up, and the Potions master did not bother to stop him. The Drought of Living Death he prepared could probably kill the whole class, Britt and all, even if not in the way it was meant to.

Why had he stopped attending in person? What could Britt have done to him? It hit him—she probably knew the dating thing was fake from the beginning. Sander might have planned it all out to make Robbe look like an idiot.

That wouldn’t account for that night in the workshop.

Fuck that night in the workshop.

Sander waited outside the Potions classroom, his back on the wooden doorframe. Britt would be done soon. It didn’t give Robbe any satisfaction to brush by Sander without speaking—or at least, not until he saw Sander rubbing his arm in the aftermath. Robbe must have hit him with the door.

“Sorry,” he called over his shoulder, hoping it sounded blasé.

It could have been anyone there, he thought. Sander wasn’t special anymore. Then he went to his bedroom and stared at the wall over it.

2. He was not straight.

The specifics were, as of yet, unclear. He was in love with Sander, which meant he liked boys, but he’d kind of liked Noor too. Not romantically. Or even sexually. But like, he enjoyed her company.

Sometimes.

He wasn’t in love with Sander anymore, though, definitely not. Robbe figured if he told himself that at least four to five times a day, it might become a little more accurate. Two weeks was too short a time to fall for someone.

After all this, he needed to get Jens alone and lay it all on at once. Bad phrasing be damned. The boys began packing their belongings on Wednesday, after a mostly uneventful Transfiguration exam (Moyo turned his cockroach into a pair of earrings that still moved their spindly antennae—he seemed satisfied). They would leave on Saturday afternoon. Aaron tried a simple cleaning spell, Scourgify, and ended up scattering his belongings to the four corners of the castle. He scurried away to pack the rest manually, Moyo at his heels to help.

Jens and Robbe were alone. Robbe was ready to talk about it.

“Why is Moyo always here?” asked Jens, in a way that made it sound like he was breaking the tension.

His plan failed, of course, because Robbe was already speaking. “We have to talk about something.”

They stared at each other. Jens blinked.

“There’s a lot I haven’t told you,” Robbe began. “I wanted to, but it was always so complicated.”

“Uh, sure, okay.” Jens shoved a crumpled shirt into his trunk, followed by a pair of ripped slacks he could never wear to class again.

“This thing I had with Sander… it was fake to him. But, well, uh, to me—”

Jens nodded. “I know.”

Damnit, no.

“Jens,” Robbe tried a second time, “I’ve realized some things about myself recently. They kind of explain other things, from earlier, so…” He switched tactics. Who knew how long until Moyo and Aaron returned? “Do you remember when you and Jana broke up? How you found out about what’s-his-name and—”

Another shirt in the trunk. Some more destroyed pants. “Yeah.”

“Cool. So um, you should understand that it was—” It was never this awkward to talk to Jens before. Jens was supposed to be easy. Robbe folded his shirts by hand, like his mother did, and placed them carefully in his own luggage as he thought of how best to phrase this. “I did it on purpose. She was gonna tell you and I—well I said—”

“You’re not making sense.”

“I know things about myself now. Learned them. From that. and this.” Here it came, the big jump. Even though Robbe knew Jens, Aaron, and Moyo outlined a whole plan to get him and Sander together, he still worried about what they’d say when confronted with the reality of it. “Jens, I’m—"

“I know.”

No, that wouldn’t work. Again, “Jens, please, I’m—”

“It’s okay, Robbe, I know—”

“I don’t want you to know!” Robbe flopped a shirt down harder than he intended. “I want you to let me say it.” He took a deep breath. “I’m gay. That’s who I am. With or without Sander. Okay? I need you to understand that it’s like that with or without him.”

“I—”

“Don’t say you know. You’re my best friend.”

“Okay,” said Jens. “I understand.”

“Good.”

Jens closed his trunk on top of some clothing that spilled out the sides. He sat down on it to close the latch. Then he reached out and gathered Robbe into the tightest hug ever. It wasn’t nearly everything that Robbe wanted to say, but it was some, and Jens didn’t run away from him. Sexuality crisis, somewhat had. Robbe was sure there would be more later.

3. You don’t like me.

Robbe’s final exam was History of Magic. Luckily, his cramming paid off. He breezed through the questions on the first and second wars faster than any of his peers and was out the door within thirty minutes.

Most students were trapped in their classrooms for another half-hour or more. Empty corridor stretched in all directions, and Robbe didn’t have anything to do for the rest of the day. He knew where he wanted to go.

Sure enough, his astronomy tower perch was vacant. Bright sunlight dyed the campus in shades of yellow and gold, made the upper turrets appear as drawings from a children’s book. Robbe noted in passing that someone had collected Sander’s picnic blanket from its forlorn position on the roof. That made sense. Filch himself must have cleaned.

From overhead, soft music played. Robbe was sure he was hallucinating. He sat down on the sill.

Oh fuck, maybe not hallucinating. Noon cast a shadow of someone above onto the roof below.

Sander’s blanket wasn’t where he’d dropped it on night one because Sander sat on the overhang above the window. He had it splayed across the shingles, a compact player oozing the final lines of that same damn song on a loop, his wand gripped in his hands.

Robbe couldn’t escape him. Couldn’t escape how he felt about him. He could bring it under his control if he made it look purposeful.

“Hey,” he said. “Don’t you have class?”

Sander startled.

This was a mistake. Never mind. Robbe should go.

He leaned even further out the window for a better view of Sander’s setup. A stack of textbooks balanced precariously, end on end, held aloft by a complicated charm of some sort. A quill rolled down the roof and stopped as if by an invisible wall. Sander had created a bubble for his things.

“Cheers to exams,” Robbe said, a bit louder. Sander did not look at him. The music cranked itself up to mask Robbe’s voice—perhaps it was spelled to muffle all noise Sander did not want to hear. That wasn’t fair. “This is my spot.”

“You said you didn’t want to be friends,” said Sander. He didn’t sound upset. Why did Robbe expect him to be upset?

“Can you turn down the music?”

“Britt’s going to join me.”

“That isn’t really what I asked.” Robbe wondered if interactions like this would ever stop hurting. But he didn’t feel as bad as he felt last week. Or on Friday night. Maybe the finality of a no was all he needed to move on. He recalled Sander’s speech word-for-word, mostly the end. You don’t like me.

It hit Robbe in a moment of irrational bravery, when Sander’s music dialed up in volume. Their first night in the astronomy tower, together, illuminated by Britt’s wand. The CD playing in the background. Sander knew what he was wearing on a specific double-date on a specific day—there was no denying something existed between them.

And to have Sander talk like that, say it was nothing… it wasn’t nothing, not to Robbe, and Sander needed to hear it.

So he said it. No introduction, no nothing. “I liked you.”

The Major-Tom-planet song quieted. Definitely some kind of magic there.

“I liked you so much,” he said again. Now that it existed, now that it was said, there was nothing to stop him from continuing. “You can’t tell me I didn’t.”

One of Sander’s quills rolled to the edge of the bubble, only this time, it dropped out and fell the length of the tower.

“We made it up, we agreed,” Sander whispered. “I’m sorry.” He slid down from the roof, landing beside Robbe on the sill, then jumped to the floor. His belongings trailed behind him in a floating line.

Robbe stood his ground and blocked the staircase. “It’s not your thing to decide.” His voice softened. “I liked you. So that’s that. And it’s done.”

Sander scuffed the floor with his shoe.

“Good. You never have to see me again.” Robbe pointed down the stairs for dramatic effect. “I have class. Bye.”

He felt lighter than he had all week when he descended the staircase. Any lighter, and he would have missed it when Sander said, “I liked you, too.”

4. He was a jerk to Noor.

Robbe sought her out on the train home, abandoning his friends in their own little compartment. They had plenty to discuss without his involvement. Pranks and whatnot. The usual. Noor was alone in a compartment near the back of the train, a dozen or so scrolls of parchment dispersed around her. She wrote on one with a broken quill.

She wasn’t a bad person. Robbe should have just told her. The least he could do was tell her when everything was over.

“Hey,” he said, taking the seat across from her.

She looked up, surprised. “Hello.”

“You seemed like you could use some company.”

Noor blushed. “No, I—Britt’s sitting elsewhere, and I have a lot to do.”

“With Sander,” Robbe supplied.

“What?”

“Britt’s with Sander.”

“Oh, um, actually—”

Robbe wasn’t in the mood for the nitty-gritty details of whatever Britt and Sander had going on. Obviously it was toxic. Not his problem. Besides, this conversation was for Noor’s sake, not his own.

“Listen, about me and him,” he said. “I need to apologize. It wasn’t fair of me to lead you on.” He hoped it wouldn’t get awkward. The extent of his recent planning was pretty much just say it without warning and hope it works out.

“I don’t read smoke signals,” said Noor curtly. She set her quill down on the seat next to her, ink stains bleeding into the cushioning. “But I get it.”

“No, it was fucked up. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

Awkward silence. Robbe wasn’t built for prolonged chatter with anyone besides Jens, Moyo, and Aaron. The girls’ group was the exception, and only when Jana and Zoë were present. He fiddled with the beginning of a hole in his yellow sweater.

“I suppose I should apologize too,” said Noor, after a while. “That was fucked up, to say he’d get bored of you. I was a little—well, you know.”

“If it helps,” Robbe said, “you were right.”

Noor frowned. She sat up in her seat, and her parchment fell to the carriage floor. The sweets trolley passed by their sliding doorway without stopping—its driver could likely sense the tension. Robbe explained, “He’s back with Britt.”

“No, he isn’t,” said Noor. “Where’d you hear that?”

“Jana said—”

“Who would know better: Jana, or me?”

Robbe fumbled for something to say in response. Actually, now was a pretty good time to get out, before the topic became any more serious. He said, “He broke up with me.”

“It wasn’t for Britt. She helped him through some stuff, sure, but everyone knows that train’s come and gone.”

“I guess I’m just boring,” Robbe said.

“Bullshit.” Noor picked up her parchment again. She dipped her quill into her ink and began her writing anew, on whatever mess this was. Robbe couldn’t read fucking cursive. “I don’t believe it. Britt says he adored you.”

Robbe didn’t know what to make of that. There was no way he could segue into his next point, which was, of course, that their dating arrangement wasn’t real in the first place, especially after something so honest from Noor. He gave a bullshit excuse, something about chasing the sweets trolley, and got the hell out of there.

***

Robbe said goodbye to Moyo on the train platform. Jens and Aaron lived close enough that their parents parked in the same general vicinity, meaning that they could walk over as a trio. Robbe considered awaiting Sander on the platform as well. Every time he learned something new about Sander’s behavior when he wasn’t there, he got more and more confused. What fake relationship could be convincing enough to have Sander’s ex lamenting its reality?

The boys shared idle gossip on their way to the parking lot. Nothing substantial. Robbe’s head was too full of thoughts, most of them Sander-related. He wasn’t angry, or upset, or tired right now. How did knowing one little thing from Noor make a difference in his overall mood? They split off to their respective parents with casual goodbyes and a promise to write at least once during the holidays.

“Hey,” called Jens, just as Robbe opened the shotgun side.

Robbe turned back, his rucksack swinging off his shoulder. He swiped a hand across his eyes.

“Were you in love with him? Actually?”

They spent two weeks together. Two weeks, plus months and months of pining from afar that couldn’t count for much. It was supposed to last longer. What had Sander said, that day after their date? He wanted it to continue through the holiday break. And now, nothing. Robbe summarized this feeling the only way he knew how: “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.”

He climbed into his mother’s waiting car, and with that, it was Christmastime at the Ijzermans house.

#sobbe #wtfock #sander driesen #robbe ijzermans #hogwarts au #fake dating #fanfiction #sobbe fanfic

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