#He's so suspicious along with the most of the cast. What's hiding in those memories and that ability to hear wraiths huh... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tenaciousdecapitator · 1 year

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To Boldly Go: A Camilla Noceda Character Analysis

I am of the opinion that Vee Noceda might hold a record for how fast a fandom changed their opinion on a character that they once considered untrustworthy and suspicious (and I’m sure the very intentional casting of the 2010s’ most sympathetic voice for a shapeshifter helped with that) but in terms of characters we already knew, very few other shows handled the reveal of a character’s true depth better than Thanks to Them did with Camilla Noceda. And a significant portion of that-at least from what I’m interpreting-is inherently linked to another major reveal of the episode: that Camilla and Manny Noceda were both involved in the early generation of what basically amounts to Star Trek fandom.

Bear with me here, and let me explain. (Info/theory dump under break)

When Cosmic Frontier is first mentioned in the episode, it’s in the context of Gus pointing out the similarities to their current situation. When he lists names like Captain Avery and Chief Engineer O’Bailey, the Trek fans watching (particularly those familiar with DS9) have a little chuckle about the reference and how Gus and Hunter will definitely identify with the characters, assuming that will be the extent of this amusing copyright-friendly shout out.

And then Gus reveals the closet, and we learn so much about Luz’s parents in this one brief shot (though I’m sure the TOH crew would’ve preferred a full episode):

The sheer amount of merchandise, years upon years of ‘Galaxy Con’ loot and collectables and homemade props The amount of guest lanyards, each from a different summer of memories.

The subtle but important suggestion that Manny had worked hard to update and improve his Circuit cosplay, countless hours of research and studying paused frames and crafting the fine details.

The implication of Camilla getting prepared in a hotel bathroom, making sure her turquoise body paint was properly sealed and Manny’s mask was comfortably positioned before heading out to the familiar sanctuary of the convention hall.

The realization that some viewers might have, a link between Star Trek’s real-life impact on how many people who watched the show would later pursue scientific and medical careers and Camilla’s current job as a veterinarian.

How narratively fitting, that a girl who engages so passionately in modern fandom traditions like AMVs and commissioned fan art would be the child of two people who shared a love of the fandom that started it all, and quite possibly was how they met in the first place.

But then we wonder, why is this all hidden? What would cause Camilla to hide these clearly still important relics of her past down in the basement?

We get part of the answer soon enough: She grew up, became a parent, and became far more conscious of how other people perceived and judged both herself and Luz. She tries being supportive of her daughter’s enthusiastic interests and strange habits, but social and societal pressure, along with the weight of her own past regrets, causes her to try to steer Luz away from making the same “mistakes” that she once did.

Though, maybe when Luz was younger, she had a bit of time to go back to old habits. Manny’s enthusiasm would’ve been infectious, helping her remember the good times instead of dwelling on the bad. Perhaps one night they hired a babysitter for Luz and managed to watch a movie that, despite its unfortunate choice of lead actor, was an affectionate parody of Cosmic Frontier that showed its appreciation for what the series meant for its actors and fans.

But without Manny, that spark of enthusiasm and nostalgia wouldn’t last long. Every record and reminder of what Camilla used to share with him would be boxed up, hidden, and left behind as another childish pursuit that she couldn’t afford to waste time on as a single mother.That plan to bury that part of herself deep and never let it grow too much within Luz might have continued as she expected, but Manny, fortunately, had other ideas. He must’ve recognized that spark of creativity and passion within Luz, he surely knew what would be left behind once he was gone.

So he leaves Luz a gift, a memento, something that she would identify with and obsess over and create social bonds through like he and Camilla once did with Cosmic Frontier.

And wouldn’t you know it, ol’ Circuit’s calculations were correct. Luz becomes hooked, enamored, she sees herself within Azura like her parents must have identified with their favorite show’s characters.

Her love of the series is a constant theme throughout The Owl House, it inspired her to express herself, face challenges, make friends, defend the people she loves, and find someone who enjoys the fandom enough to understand her like nobody else could.

What does Camilla do in response to her daughter’s newfound hyper-fixation?

She supports Luz, as much as she can, despite the weight of expectation on both of them. Helping her buy the next books, the new merchandise, even costume parts. One year, not long after they move to Gravesfield, they manage to have enough money to buy convention tickets. Entirely for Luz’s sake, of course, Camilla is too old for this sort of thing, and hardly recognizes most of the characters kids are dressing up as nowadays. But if her eyes linger on some familiar faces at the autograph tables, or she starts absentmindedly humming along to a certain show’s theme song being played over the loudspeakers, well, that’s her business. Old habits are hard to shake.

Speaking of which, I only noticed this after a rewatch, but Camilla’s fandom experience arguably makes an appearance earlier in the series:

When Jacob’s doing his whole “delusional defeated villain trying to claim he’s the hero” bit, Mrs. Noceda’s response before delivering the righteous justice of La Chancla is “Yeah...a lot of bad guys say that.” On first watch I thought this was simply calling out IRL examples of scumbags with a self-centered ego, but later I realized she’s commenting on it in terms of its use as a somewhat cliche trope. As if she’s watched and read this kind of speech dozens of times before.

For a long time, possibly almost a decade, Camilla manages to avoid directly confronting her past. She works as much as she can to support Luz, the forbidden relics are locked away downstairs, everything’s fine. But then the Hexside Kids show up at her doorstep, bringing with them a bit of the same Boiling Isles culture that allowed her daughter to express herself freely.

She tries to keep it quiet, awkwardly denying any knowledge of the merchandise in her basement, but these new kids are her kids too, for now, and she supports their interests as much as she did with Luz. So if Hunter needs help stitching together an Engineer O’Bailey cosplay, or Gus needs some show-accurate props for his own outfit, well. She’s just being supportive, in a neutral and parental way, that’s all.

Once the portal is open and Luz starts to say something she’ll regret, however, Camilla can’t maintain the facade of a responsible, respectful, socially acceptable parent any longer. That old spark within her, the part that never really left, shows itself more than it has in years.

She offers an alternative, something Luz would’ve never expected, defiantly and proudly stating that she’d be going into the portal to the Isles alongside them. It’s the specific wording that gets me, though, “It is our DUTY to help your friends get back to their families!” Seems to invoke the sort of “I’ll be your fearless champion” type speeches that Luz sometimes makes. However, we recall from Yesterday’s Lie that Camilla knows she isn’t great with on-the-fly improvised roleplay scenarios. She’s “not imaginative enough”. So it’s entirely possible that Camilla’s taking inspiration from lines that she hasn’t heard in a while but still knows by heart, after hearing it recited at the beginning of hundreds of episodes. A socially acceptable single mother and hard-working veterinarian would never consider something like this, it’s too risky, too dangerous, too many unknown variables on the other side of that portal.

But Camilla Noceda grew up watching others face the unknown, for the safety of others, because it was their duty. Their “ongoing mission”.

She might not understand anime yet, but for Luz’s sake and Manny’s legacy, she’s willing to learn.

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donaweasley · 3 years

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Their Little Secret

Pairing: Loki x Fem!Reader

Plot: This can be read as a sequel to What If or even as a solo.

The reader and Loki have been best friends for long, but eventually realised that it was more than just friendship. As they secretly step into a new world, the entire team, unbeknownst to it all, makes it their mission to make the love birds realise and confess what they feel for each other.

Warnings: Fluff, slight angst in relationship, a happy ending! Oh! And late-night hazards and a long read. Sorry!

Read time: ~26 mins

“(Y/N), could you please take a look at this once?”

Loki waltzed in through (Y/N)’s door with a file in his hand. She was reading a book, when he knocked.

“It’s pretty late. I thought you said you’d go straight to bed. What are you doing with this poor old piece of rat-food now?”

“I did. But then I couldn’t sleep. So...I thought of doing something boring enough to lull me to sleep. But this old file actually turned out to be quite interesting,” he explained animatedly. “I just couldn’t understand one part. So, here I am!”

She eyed him suspiciously as he spread his arms to accentuate his royal presence.

“That, or you wanted to see me, and this file is a flimsy excuse,” she drawled.

“Come on, darling! I’m fond of you but not to the extent that I’ll have to make lame excuses to see you. Besides, why would I need to lie to you?”

After taking a moment to consider his words, she stepped beside him and asked him to show the file.

“It is here - this part,” he pointed at a chunk of printed information.

“This one is…” She pondered aloud. “That doesn’t make sense! Loki, w-where did you get this from? That doesn’t look like any mission report or anything. It looks like...an excerpt...from...a book?”

Before she could register, a kiss landed on her cheek. It was immediately followed by Loki excitedly wishing her, “Goodnight, darling,” and vanishing into a green glow.

She stood stunned for a while. Gradually, the tingling sensation where Loki’s lips had caressed her skin began to spread like wildfire through her face, and soon she was blushing and smiling like an idiot.

“Idiot!” She cursed him as she flopped back on the bed.

After a few seconds of fiddling with the bookmark, and staring at blurred lines on the page, she closed the book, and decided to call it a night. After what Loki just did, nothing else could compare to a happier ending to the day.

As she closed her eyes, sunny memories started flooding her mind.

It had all started hardly two months ago, when they were having their usual midnight snacks, casually talking the day’s stress away, talking nonsense - just the usual best buddy night.

But then something happened: a childish game of “what-ifs”.

It was fun, for the most part, until Loki had asked her about her intentions if she met the love of her life the next day. Already stained with painful memories of past relationships and with the hopelessness about her love life, she tried her best to evade the question. But Loki, being Loki, kept proding her until she gave him a genuine reason for her frustration.

And everything changed after that. Because in trying to save the other from falling down the emotional cliff, they had saved each other. They had found each other.

She laughed softly as she remembered the hesitancy in both their hearts as they had crossed the threshold of friendship.

That was the first time that she had kissed him. On the cheek. And that was even before she had fully realised that her feelings for him were no longer platonic.

That was the first time Loki had put an arm around her and pulled her close to him.

Another giggle escaped her as she remembered the moment when the soft morning light, and a stiff back had awakened her from her sleep.

Both were still sitting in almost the same position as they had been when they were chatting.

She had found herself cocooned in the arms of Loki, her legs tangled with his, both of them safe under the thin blanket that Loki had picked while preparing for their night. Her head rested on his chest, while his rested on the top of her head.

The last thing that she remembered from the previous night was them promising each other that no matter how things turned out, they’d always be beside one another. And then Loki had pulled her closer, and gently laid her head on his throbbing chest.

It was now peacefully moving up and down with his sleepy breaths. Before opening her eyes to reality, she stole a few moments to let this feeling sink in.

When she had closed her eyes the night before, there was an excitement so high in the air that Thor’s thunder would have been ashamed. It was the hammering of Loki’s heart that had eventually put her to sleep.

The morning brought a peaceful rhythm beneath her ears. It was beautiful, it was calm, it was...reassuring. She loved it more than the thrill of the past few hours.

But no matter how long she tried to soak herself in the feeling, the incidents of the night before still seemed somewhat unbelievable. How could something months long change overnight? Was it all a mirage then, cast by the treacherous night?

The darkness of the night sets the mind free to imagine anything, take any decision. But the clarity of the day brings logic to the forefront, which sometimes turns out to be good but sometimes not so good.

But...it had felt right. She took a deep breath to clear her mind. It still felt right. That was all the assurance that she needed for the moment.

As she turned in her bed, she remembered the raspy voice in which Loki had wished her a good morning.

The close proximity, the husky, sleep-laden voice, the sudden change in the air - everything made blood rush to her cheeks and ears. Loki had sleepily chuckled at her flushed state, though he was only slightly better than her in hiding his own flustered state.

Ever since, not a single day had passed when the two of them hadn’t thanked the stars.

She used to think that she loved Loki’s friendship more than anything. She was happy to be proven wrong when she experienced Loki’s courtship.

A different flower everyday, sometimes inside her room, laid carefully near her door, sometimes on her bedside table, and on some mornings, beside her pillow.

She was used to going out with her best friend Loki, but going out with her boyfriend Loki was an experience on a whole new level. Light brushes of the fingers, sometimes an arm around her shoulder, intertwining of fingers, occasional brushes of his lips on her temple, and not-very-occasional blushes that tinted both their skins.

Every day, before parting for the day, she was blessed with bear hugs from him - something that she had never expected him to be fond of.

It was the best time of her life! Almost every doubt that she had about this relationship not working out had evaporated long ago. It was - she dared to say - perfect!

Except for one small hiccup: they had to keep everything off the radar.

For one, they were still testing the waters. No matter how happy and confident they were with one another, their newfound relationship was still at its infancy, and they didn’t want to declare anything to the rest of the team right away.

Second, everybody in the compound had been teasing both (Y/N) and Loki about “getting a room” for a long time. They didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of knowing that they were finally correct. Well, figuratively.

Unfortunately, the team did not know that they had already confessed their feelings to each other. And so, they were desperate to make the love birds see the truth of their emotions. The Avengers, tough and stubborn as they were, never gave up. And Loki and (Y/N) simply decided to play along.

For instance, around a month and a half ago, Tony had thrown one of his usual parties at the compound, and had brought a line of apparent suitors for (Y/N) and a host of gorgeous ladies and lads to introduce to Loki.

Though the new couple was initially confused at the unbridled attention, they eventually understood what was going on: Tony Stark had decided to use the age-old recipe of jealousy to crack either one or both of them.

It was fun, they both admitted later, to dance to the tune, and give the host a frowning face when he realised that neither were biting the bait. Instead, both seemed to be enjoying themselves flirting or dancing with their respective “baits”.

What escaped the eagle eyes of the team were the furtive looks that both (Y/N) and Loki threw at each other from time to time. It wasn’t easy to masquerade those longing glances with playful teases that two friends might share. But they had to.

Late into the night, after the party was over, Loki teleported into (Y/N)’s room. The security cameras were still a threat to their little secret.

“Hello beautiful!” Loki purred when she didn’t turn all her attention towards him as she usually did, but kept herself apparently busy in making the bed.

“Is this my consolation prize for all your flirting this evening?” She tried to keep it casual but her displeasure seeped into her tone.

“Ooh, someone sounds jealous,” he drawled.

“Speak for yourself, God!”

Loki stepped towards her, and gently caught her hand, putting a pause to her actions.

“Look at me. Please?”

She smiled as she faced him, but he could easily catch the facade.

“I know what you're trying to do. You can’t fool me, (Y/N).”

“And what is it that I’m doing?” She tried to question with the same casualness but her voice kept betraying her.

“You are trying to make it look like it didn’t affect you - me being with all those lovely people. But in reality, you are hurt, even if it is a tiny bit.”

Her smile faltered. Of course, she couldn’t fool the God of Lies!

Closing her eyes, she shook her head, “I don’t know why you’re saying this Loki. I’m perfectly fine! Why would I-”

“You and I understand each other perfectly,” Loki gently cut her off. “Or did you forget that?”

He reminded her of the one line - of the one realisation - that had triggered the tiniest thoughts of them being possibly together, if at all.

Realizing that all doors were closed for her, she tried to turn away from him, only to be stopped by the trickster.

“If it makes you feel any good,” he resumed, “it did burn me a bit, too, to watch you dance and laugh with those clowns.”

At this, she burst into laughter. Loki was glad at the change of mood, and allowed a few happy creases around his eyes as well.

“Is that true,” she asked, “or are you simply trying to make me feel better?”

He shrugged, “What do you think?”

“I’d like to believe that it’s true,” she confessed shyly.

“It is.”

“Well then,” she said after suppressing a wild grin that tried to crack its way through, “I guess that makes us even.”

“Guess so.”

“I’m sorry, Loki,” she sighed, “I lied earlier because I didn’t want to put any kind of pressure on you or anything. I mean...jealousy? That’s the first stage of obsession. And...I don’t want you to think that...”

“Hey,” Loki held both her hands in his, “your feelings for me will never suffocate me. On the contrary, they help me breathe. You have given my life a new purpose. I thought I was happy being your best friend. But this...this is even better. Never think that you’re putting any kind of pressure on me. None of those men or women out there, or anywhere for that matter, can bring me what I feel with you, for you.”

Words seemed insufficient for what she wanted to say. So, she simply nodded, and wrapped her arms around his torso.

“Thank you,” she murmured into his chest.

He chuckled as he ran his hand on her head, “Being jealous actually makes you look cute.”

She unwrapped herself from him just enough to look at his face, “Says the man who just confessed being jealous himself!”

“I never said I don’t look cute,” he shrugged again.

Shaking her head and laughing, she pulled his face down, and placed a warm kiss on his cheek.

“Go now, before I punch that cute face of yours.”

“When you say ‘punch’,” Loki drawled, “do you mean…’kiss every inch of’...?”

Blushing furiously, she pushed him towards the door.

“Shut up, and just go!”

Loki laughed as he wished her a lovely night, and disappeared into his usual green glow.

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

But the Avengers were not the ones to give up.

Not many weeks later, Natasha planned an evening at one of her favourite nightclubs. While Steve, Vision and Bucky backed out of the plan, given their previous not-so-delightful interactions with the loudness and the crowd, Thor and Tony were adamant on dragging Loki with them.

“We thought you liked a little fun! Since when did you start wearing grandpa’s knickers?” Tony snorted.

“C’mon, brother, don’t embarrass me,” Thor’s voice boomed in Loki’s room. “(Y/N) has embarrassed me enough. She didn’t want to go either. Said she’d rather sleep than be tormented by the blasted noise.”

She said what? That means she’s going to stay back-

“Wait, what?” Tony turned towards Thor with a perplexed look, “She said that?”

He turned around to face Loki again, “Are you two planning something or have you both become boring?”

No, no, no! They’ll add up…

“I am not boring!” Loki declared. He decided to stay quiet on the other option that Stark had mentioned.

“Well, then join us,” Tony shrugged.

With a dramatic roll of his eyes, Loki agreed.

Needless to say, his eyes went wide when he saw (Y/N) dressed up and ready for the outing when he was expecting her in her pajamas. When she silently questioned him, he immediately realised that he had been tricked.

I have to be more careful.

The team’s plan soon became obvious when, after a few rounds of shots, everyone made a beeline to the dance floor, leaving behind a string of excuses, and Loki and (Y/N) at the bar. Even through the crowd, the duo’s trained eyes could catch glimpses of their teammates shadowing them.

“Do they really think getting drunk will make us confess?” She shouted over the sound of the music.

“I’m a God,” he shouted back. “Midgardian liquor doesn’t affect me anyway.”

“Well, it affects me,” she shrugged and drained another shot down her throat, “and I love it!”

Last one.

She had started feeling dizzy. Getting wasted could be saved for another moment when she wasn’t being spied on.

A few minutes passed in silence as neither was fond of shouting to communicate. (Y/N) bobbed her head to the music while Loki eyed the mass of bodies swaying and moving with the beats.

“Would you-” Loki began but stopped midway.

While her eyes questioned him, he silently slipped from the stool, and came to stand almost behind her.

His hot breath, dipped in a faint whiff of alcohol, hit the shell of her ear as he purred, “Would you like to dance with me?”

She was rendered immobile for a while. A small corner of her mind wondered if Loki knew what he was doing to her.

I bet he knows what he’s doing.

“I’d have loved to!” She drawled. “It’s a shame there isn’t room for a waltz here, and I wouldn’t want a God like you to hop like teeangers in the crowd.”

She felt his chest brush against her back.

“I was actually hoping that you’d be up for that dance,” he pointed at a section of the crowd where bodies were gliding against each other in the most provocative ways.

Her breath hitched again. She didn’t need to turn her head to know that Loki was smirking at his achievement.

But this time, she wouldn’t squeal, she wouldn’t push him away with a timid smile. Diffidence and boldness both tugged at polar ends of her heart until boldness won the war.

Not this time. Two can play the game, darling.

“So, what’s stopping you?” Her lips almost brushed his earlobe as she tilted her head to whisper in his ear.

Where did that come from?!

Loki wasn’t prepared for this.

It was usually him who threw mildly suggestive comments which she pushed away with a shy gesture. He never expected the tables to turn so quickly.

She did not even have enough shots to get drunk yet, he noticed.

“What happened, did the cat get your silver tongue?” She smirked.

“I-I...uh...”

While Loki continued to gape at her, an inkling of panic nudged her chest.

Did I take it too far? He obviously wasn’t ready for this, but…

It all must have been another prank for him, and I…

No!

With a cackle, she sliced the apparent tension in the air. “So, finally got you, ha? Mischief!” She winked.

Turning towards the bartender, she ordered another shot.

Loki’s brain was still trying to decipher her behaviour.

Did she really mean it…? It didn’t look like a joke though…

As she focused on her drink, he thought he saw a flicker of disappointment cross her face, but the incessant dance of light and shadows made her features almost unreadable.

“You should get back to your seat, y’know?” She told him with downcast eyes.

“What?”

“The team might notice and...they might know.”

Did her voice just...tremble?

Loki hated the place: the noise, the dim lights, the secrecy - he hated the way everything seemed to veil her from him.

“I think I’ll go find them.”

Downing another drink, she hopped off her seat, and disappeared in the crowd, leaving Loki to his thoughts.

Once they were back in the compound, Loki went straight to (Y/N)’s room. This time he did not sneak into her room using magic; he knocked on her door. This wasn’t the moment to play a game of cat and mouse. If the entire compound was prying on him, he would gladly allow them to. Well, maybe not gladly.

“Hey! Hi, Loki!”

Her smile was as bright as ever.

Was it all in my mind then?

“Are you alright?” He tried to sound calm but his anxiety turned out to be more stubborn than him.

“Yes, I am. What- Come inside first.”

She stepped aside, allowing him to stride into her room, and flump down on the bed.

“I’m sorry,” he began honestly, “I thought...I thought you were upset. At the club… I thought I saw you...sad? I’m not sure. I just had this feeling that you’re probably not okay, and-”

“Loki,” she held his shoulders and gently hushed him, “I’m fine.”

Her assurance enabled him to breathe normally again.

Caressing his face, she placed a light kiss on his forehead.

“Thank you, Loki! For everything. For caring so much about me.”

“(Y/N),” he held her hand, “are you hiding something? From me?”

He didn’t miss the way she gulped before replying.

“Why would you say that?”

“Look, I’m sorry if I cross the lines sometimes. I know I tease you but those are… I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you uncomfortable or have hurt you.”

“You are an idiot! Do you know that? You’ve never hurt me or made me uncomfortable. Now, get these stupid thoughts out of your little brain, and give me that devilishly charming smile of yours.”

Despite all her compliments, his eyes did not light up as they usually did.

“Are you sure?” He asked her.

“Absolutely!”

“You’ll tell me if you’re upset, won’t you? Promise me.”

He took note of how she licked her lips before nodding.

Something is not right.

“Come here,” he pulled her in his arms, and buried his face in the crook of her neck. “And I’m not an idiot. I am smart.”

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

The next few weeks turned out to be more and more challenging as the team was now hell-bent on getting them exposed. What made them so sure of their relationship was still a mystery to the couple.

“Are we that obvious?” (Y/N) asked Loki one day.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “It is said that it shows on the faces of those in love. So, I guess...”

The words, coming from him, filled her with warmth. If that be true, and if everyone could see that they were in love only by looking at them, then she’d happily trade their secrecy for more obviousness.

But every time they came close to taking the relationship to the next level, she would find Loki backing away. Every time they had the opportunity to reveal their beautiful secret to the team, he would quickly shield both of them.

Why, Loki? Do you not want us?

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

It was a rainy evening when Tony had gathered everyone in the living room. At first (Y/N) thought that it was an urgent meeting for a new mission. But when she knew the actual reason behind it, she couldn’t prevent the snort that escaped her.

“Excuse me?” Tony pointed at her. “You got some problem, princess?”

“Truth or dare? Like, how old are we? Twelve?”

Tony spread his arms as if to silently make a point. “Since when did you start categorizing fun into ages? Ever since you started dating Rock of Ages?”

“Hey!” Loki made a tiny protest at his nickname.

“We are not dating,” (Y/N) deadpanned.

“And there goes my question,” Wanda sighed from across the room.

In response, (Y/N) simply rolled her eyes, and grumbled, “Kids!”

Once the game started, the team wasted no time in getting to the point: (Y/N) and Loki.

The first one to get attacked was Loki.

“No, no truth for you,” Sam chimed in just as Loki sucked in a breath to choose “truth”.

“He’s the God of Lies!” Sam announced, “He can easily slip away with any lie!”

“The bird’s got a point!” Tony agreed, followed by everyone else. “‘Dare’ for you!”

“This is not how it works,” Loki protested.

“Did you play this on Asgard? Thor?”

“No, we had never even heard of it until we came here,” the big brother responded.

“But-”

“Nah-ah!” Tony didn’t let him finish. “This is exactly how it is played. Who wants to give the God of Mischief a mischievous dare?”

(Y/N) wanted to protest; she wanted to tell Tony that he was bending the rules to get to them. But any word of support would further corner them both. All she could do was play along.

“Kiss (Y/N). And you know where I mean.”

Nat’s voice yanked her out of her thoughts. She watched in horror as Loki’s expressions changed from shock to anger while the entire team cheered.

“Nat!” (Y/N) jumped up from her seat, “do you even hear yourself? He’s my best friend! We can’t just...”

“Why not?” Sam questioned with a smirk. “You seemed to be enjoying it when I was asked to kiss Buck. He’s my best buddy.”

“Speak for yourself,” Bucky mumbled.

“C’mon, it’s just a game! Don’t be a spoilsport.”

Steve?? Et tu?

Rubbing her eyes, (Y/N) tried to find a way out of it. She knew well that if Loki kissed her, she’d melt into it. Everything would become obvious.

No, no, no!! This can’t be. They can’t just expose us like this. Loki would be so....

Wait, why isn’t he saying anything?

She opened her eyes to see Loki standing. His expression was unfathomable.

Oh no! Is he going to…

“This is outrageous!” Loki snapped and turned on his heels to walk out of the room.

Oh!

For reasons she did not want to explore then, (Y/N)’s heart dropped several feet. She was expecting a similar reaction from him but wasn’t hoping for it.

Quickly gravitating back to the situation in hand, she stammered an excuse or two for his behaviour, and followed his tracks to check on him.

Once both of them were out of earshot, Tony leaned towards the group, “Did we save it or kill it.”

“Looks like we killed it,” Sam sighed.

“Trust me,” Wanda smiled, “we saved it.”

“Vision? What do you think?”

“I still do not understand why you have to torment them like this. Let them come out when they want to. It’s-”

“Okay!” Tony interrupted him. “Sorry I asked! My bad!”

The door to Loki’s room was half open when (Y/N) arrived. Gingerly, she admitted herself inside.

Loki was standing at the window, with his back towards her. His head was bowed but his hands were curled into fists on both sides of his body.

“Loki?”

The name came out so softly that she couldn’t be sure if he had heard it, given that he did not move at all.

But before she could call him again, he spoke.

“I did not want this to happen,” his voice bore that particular kind of seriousness that usually preceded an unwanted or unhappy revelation.

What?

“I am sorry, (Y/N).” He turned towards her, and she realised in an instant that he wasn’t fooling around.

“What are you talking about, Loki? What did you not want to happen?”

Her chest felt tighter with every passing second.

Please, not what I’m fearing.

“This,” his hand vaguely gestured towards the hallway. “Whatever happened just now. I knew they would come down to this one day. I never wanted-”

“It’s okay,” she interjected. “I did not like that either. Although they meant no harm. It was just for fun… And I understand if you're having second thoughts. This entire thing between us was just something… y’know, a spur of the moment kind of thing. I totally understand if-"

"(Y/N)! Where is this coming from? What are you even talking about?"

She couldn’t make herself look at him, for if she did, he could clearly see the moisture pooling in her eyes. She needed to appear strong.

“Loki, you’ve always been my best friend. And I’ve loved that. You know it. And it’s okay if this new turn in our relationship does not turn out to be something that you had hoped for. It happens. It’s okay-”

“It’s not okay for me,” Loki grasped her hands. “What are you saying? Why? A-are you not happy with me? Have I done something wrong? Did I offend you in any way?”

What is he saying? I thought…

As she looked up at him, a couple of drops ran down her cheeks and on her shirt.

“(Y/N), please tell me. You had promised to tell me anything and everything that upsets you. So, tell me what happened. Why do you speak of our relationship as if it was a mistake?”

“It never was a mistake for me,” she breathed, “I thought you felt...I thought you...”

“What?”

The shaky way in which the question came out of him stung her more than any thought of Loki not wanting this relationship. It was then that she realised how badly she had hurt him.

He never wanted to leave! He always wanted me? Us?

She didn’t know what to say.

“I’m sorry,” she finally managed. “I thought that you...didn’t want...this. Us. I-”

“Why would you even think so? Why would you bear such thoughts when I love you with every fiber of my being?”

Her head snapped up.

“You love me?” Her own voice became shaky.

“Of course, I do,” he gently placed a hand on her cheek, “always have. At first I thought it was a love for friends until that night, when I realised that I wanted to be more than just friends with you.”

More tears fell down her cheek as she rejoiced in the moment. Loki wiped them all, and placed soft kisses on each cheek.

“And all this time, I was afraid that you’re having second thoughts,” she confessed.

“And why is that?”

“Because...”

How do I say that it’s because you haven’t kissed me yet? And ran away from the one moment we had today, albeit in a not-so-comfortable situation?

“Because I haven’t kissed you yet?” Loki asked her.

Her heart beat so violently, she could have sworn that Loki could hear it. Her tongue felt too heavy to speak.

“I didn’t think you were ready,” he admitted. “That is the reason why I did not dance with you in the club either. I was teasing you, yes, but when you responded I was definitely taken aback. I wasn’t sure if it was you or the ambience talking. So…

You have always shied away from any comments that I make, and...I did not want to push anything on you.”

“Oh, Loki!”

She hugged him so hard that even the Asgardian had to take two steps back to balance himself.

“I’m so, so sorry,” she wept into his shirt. “I misunderstood your actions for… I pushed you away. I thought you weren’t ready for this relationship. I’m sorry!”

Tears of both apology and relief flooded her. He tried to sush her as he rocked her slowly from side to side.

After taking a moment to compose herself, she stood straight. Loki looked at her red-eyed, tear-stained face and tutted.

“Doesn’t suit you, darling. Show me your crazy, grinning face.”

With a chuckle, she gave him a funny face-splitting smile, making both of them laugh.

“(Y/N), I didn’t want to kiss you because of a game or under the watchful eyes of that insufferable bunch of imbeciles. But if you will allow me now, I-”

“Just stop being so polite for a change, and kiss me,” she tugged at the collars of his shirt.

Loki didn’t need to be asked twice.

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

In the hall, the Avengers were busy speculating the outcome of their little plan, when the couple in discussion walked in. Hand in hand.

“Yes, we had changed our relationship status around six months ago,” (Y/N) announced to a stunned audience.

“And yes, we kissed. Just now. And I hope you know where I mean,” Loki added before dragging his love away towards the elevator.

“What was that?” She whispered as she was being whisked away.

“What?” Loki asked innocently, although his eyes stated otherwise.

“You didn’t need to declare that we just kissed!” She laughed as the doors of the elevator closed.

He shrugged while jabbing at a button. “They wanted us to kiss anyway. So, I gave them the satisfaction of knowledge. Besides, they need to know who you belong to now.”

“Aha! Possessive?”

“No! I also made it clear who I belong to now.”

He smiled as the doors opened to the hallway that led to his room. And once again, his words had rendered her speechless.

Silver tongue!

***

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

You can read the backstory here.

And here's a song to sing along and keep the mood floating...

youtube

319 notes · View notes

sorryimananti-romantic · 3 years

Text

Mist | Choi San | Chapter 4

Pairing: Choi San x OC (Seohyun)

Genre: supernatural (ghost), romance, high school

Trigger Warnings: paranormal, death mentions, violence

Words: 6.6k

Disclaimer: I do not own anything except my original character and the story. I do not own any gifs or pictures used.

Full story on Wattpad (don’t spoil here if you read there too)

chapter directory

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Seohyun was waiting for Jiwoo for quite a while now, sitting on the desk in her room, doodling in her notebook. She sighed as she shut it, a bit frustrated. It was not like Jiwoo to leave her hanging.

Seohyun considered going out; it was highly likely that Jiwoo was at their usual spot- the park near the school, her home, or the accident site. It was about 10 pm. Wasn't that late, was it? She got up, but stopped.

Maybe Jiwoo needed space.

It was probably this, but Seohyun couldn't help fearing that she had just moved on. If she'd gotten her memories back, that could mean that she was a whole different person now. She might not be the Jiwoo she knew anymore.

Seohyun fell on her bed, staring at the wall, and suddenly felt goosebumps.

"Took you long enough," Seohyun said, not bothering to look at Jiwoo, who had just entered the room.

"Don't tell me you were waiting for me," Jiwoo smirked.

"Oh, why would I?" Seohyun smirked back, and made space for Jiwoo, who sat on the bed with her. "So?"

"So, my dear friend," Jiwoo began, clearly excited to tell her her life story.

And she did. She was Ahn Jiwoo, daughter to two loving parents and a sister to a 16 year old brother. She'd had a pretty normal life; her father was a finance manager and her mother a housewife, and she had a lot of friends during her school years too. The rumours about her father being some sort of criminal were wrong; she had to face those rumours in her life too. They had her confused with another Jiwoo in her class.

"So we were a group of four friends; 2 boys and 2 girls. I was kind of a rebel in my last few months of life, because I just found life boring. I wanted an adventure. Something new. I wanted to travel too. So I was suggesting to my friends that we should do something. They were all busy in their own ways, and I didn't understand. I kept bugging them. So when we were in that restaurant, we had an argument. I knew it was my fault. I stormed off, and I was just about to go back when I got hit by a car."

"Oh... so then you went to the hospital, and they found out you lost your memories?"

"Right," she said, "But I was already in a critical condition. Brain damage led me to death."

"Ah..." Seohyun stared at her. Jiwoo's eyes were sad as she told her this, but she looked content. "So the reason you stayed..."

"The reason I stayed was not one, but two. I wanted to make sure my friends didn't blame themselves and my parents had moved on. And I spent the whole day making sure that was the case."

"And the other reason?"

"I want an adventure," she said and smiled brightly.

"Ugh, you ghosts! You stay for the most stupid reasons!" Seohyun mocked and dramatically threw her head in her hands, which made Jiwoo hit her with a pillow until she was laughing.

"That's my last wish, Seohyun. You think you could do that for me? Go on an adventure with me?"

"Haven't you had enough of adventure though? I mean, living with me is an adventure in itself-"

"I already talked to San," Jiwoo said, catching her attention. "He actually thought it was a nice idea. So we're going on an adventure this week. He said he'll make it a surprise for me."

"Hey, hey, that's not fair? You didn't even ask me!"

"I didn't have to," Jiwoo flipped her red hair.

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

"I don't know why I ever agreed to this," Seohyun sighed, handing her bag to Wooyoung who put it with the other few bags.

"Stop being a boomer and get in," Wooyoung said, and Seohyun did, muttering how she should have never suggested this.

"Should've thought before you planned all of it," Jongho snickered and Seohyun shot a glare.

"Everybody's in?" Hongjoong asked and they looked at each other, shouting a yes. Hongjoong gave a thumbs up and took the front seat of the van after shutting the door.

Everyone, including Jiwoo, who couldn't stop smiling, were seated. Seohyun had asked her mom to lend her a van that could fit 10 people, and though her mom had raised her brows in question, she had agreed when Seohyun said it was a trip with friends. She had just been surprised she had friends that were not ghosts, so without further questions (quite conveniently) she agreed, on the condition that the driver would be someone from the company.

She did raise a question when she found out that she was the only girl in the whole group, and there were only 9 people. Seohyun finally told her she was doing a favour for a ghost who had saved her life, and her mother made her promise she'd tell her the story someday.

They were going to Muchangpo Beach. They decided they'd see the sunset there. It was close to Seoul and the only place they could afford to travel and have an 'adventure'. They'd have a fun time, the boys promised, saying everything was fun when they were together.

Jiwoo was sitting between San and Wooyoung, and the three of them were chatting. Seohyun smiled when she saw that San was her voice; he'd say whatever she had to say.

She herself was in the middle row with Seonghwa and Yeosang by her sides. The two of them were also half bent backwards, listening to whatever the three of them were talking about. Seohyun had plugged her earphones in but she wasn't playing any music yet. She just listened to them talk.

"Tell us something about Seohyun," Wooyoung asked, giggling. Seohyun smiled inwardly.

"Well, Seohyun," Jiwoo thought, "she's quite rude, isn't she?"

"She's quite rude, isn't she?" San did his job, and the five of them laughed.

"She's not that rude,~" Seonghwa casted a glance at her, sighing in relief when he thought she couldn't hear him. Seohyun bit her cheek from the inside to stop smiling.

"She's scared of crows, of all thing," Jiwoo revealed, and the boys laughed a little. "She'll never show it, but when more than three crows are around, she runs for her life."

"Ah, I haven't ever noticed," Yeosang said, rubbing his chin, "she can hide it really well."

"Tell us some ghost story," Wooyoung asked. He was clearly enjoying this.

"I have a good one!" Jiwoo exclaimed and everyone seemed to scoot closer. "There was once a boy about her age who had the most stupid reason to not move on."

San almost stopped as he narrowed his eyes at Jiwoo and she assured him it was not Joon Hyuk. So San told the boys, and asked them to guess.

"He wanted an adventure too?" Yeosang laughed.

Jiwoo pouted, but said it could fall in that category, but it was a different sort of adventure. She told them to let their imagination run wild.

As San told the boys, Seohyun decided this was her cue to interrupt. "We are NOT going to talk about that!"

Wooyoung screamed a little in surprise. "Weren't you listening to music?!"

Jiwoo was just laughing and Seohyun bared her teeth at her, making everyone laugh and wonder just what sort of adventure did the boy want. After a hundred pleads from the boys, Seohyun finally told them that it didn't actually happen; she just threatened the ghost in unimaginable ways, making him move on without his desire.

"I think I have an idea of what happened," Yeosang thought, amusement in his eyes, "But I am too afraid to voice it out."

"I think you got it then," Seohyun nodded in approval and Yeosang gaped at her.

"You got it tough, friend," he said, patting her shoulder to comfort her. San and Wooyoung were pouting very loudly, and Seonghwa just stared at Yeosang and Seohyun as understanding passed between them.

"You both are so weird," Seonghwa finally said.

"If I tell you, Seonghwa, you'll drown in shame. Better protect your ears and your pure mind," Seohyun grinned.

San and Wooyoung exchanged glances, frowning, but they shook their head. It couldn't be that bad. Could it?

Seohyun plugged her earphones again, deciding she'd take a nap and actually played music this time.

-----------

"We're here!"

Seonghwa shook her awake, and Seohyun slowly opened her eyes, her hand going in front of her eyes as she blocked the sunlight. She took off her earphones and the sound of waves hit her, making her smile. She adjusted her green dress that reached below her knees, and put her hat on.

She saw that Jiwoo was already out, running along the beach, and San was watching her with a smile on his face. He turned back, meeting eyes with Seohyun, who suddenly felt out of breath.

San was handsome- painfully handsome. And the plain white shirt he wore didn't help. His hair was flying due to the breeze and he ran a hand through them, cocking his head to the side as he watched her.

The sun making his skin glow didn't help either.

Seohyun cleared her throat and joined him, and they both watched Jiwoo, in her jeans and green T shirt that she had died in- her permanent outfit, running as freely as she could, her red hair flowing behind her, her laugh ringing in the air.

"I didn't know she'd be that happy to see the beach. Hasn't she been here before?" Seohyun asked.

"I think she has. She knew the way. And I'm almost suspicious she's doing this just to annoy you," San answered.

As if on cue, Jiwoo stopped, doing a weird dance, then started twerking-

"And that's our cue to look away," Seohyun grabbed San, now laughing, by his arm and went to join the others. "They didn't have to come. They can't see her."

"We figured out a way to enjoy with her even if we can't see her," San smirked.

And that was how, a few moments later, they all were assembled in a circle playing cards.

"Why do I think San and Seohyun are cheating on us with Jiwoo?" Yunho looked at them suspiciously.

"How do you think the cards are in the air?" Seohyun asked, and Yunho grinned. She had a point. To anyone who could not see Jiwoo, it would look like a bunch of cards were in the air.

"I WON!" Jiwoo smacked the final card and jumped in the air. Seohyun gaped at her.

"You cheated!" She shouted.

"I was sitting with you the whole time, don't give me that shit," Jiwoo smirked.

San told them that she had, indeed, won without cheating and everybody groaned. Mingi dragged the food basket and him and Jongho started spreading the food.

"Can she really not eat?" Jongho asked.

"I'm afraid not," Seohyun answered.

"Isn't it rude to eat in front of a ghost?" Jiwoo put her hands on her hip and Seohyun popped a cherry in her mouth, saying, "It is."

San scoffed. Jiwoo kicked Seohyun's leg lightly and said she was going to walk. The rest of them started to eat.

"I heard the sunset here is very pretty," Seonghwa said.

"I've been here before," Mingi took a bite of his sandwich, "It really is the prettiest."

After eating a little, Seohyun looked in the distance where Jiwoo was standing near the shore, the waves flowing near her. Jiwoo looked back and started walking towards them, then stopped halfway and gestured at them to come.

"She's calling us," San said, and they all got up, joining Jiwoo.

"I want to play in the water," Jiwoo said.

"What's stopping you?" Seohyun asked.

"With you all, you dumbass," Jiwoo laughed and took her hand, leading her to the shore.

"Hey, hey, easy there," Seohyun laughed and let out a little yelp as the waves hit her bare feet. "The water is so cold!"

Jiwoo bent down and sprayed the water on Seohyun, smirking.

"Oh no, you did not!" Seohyun bent down and sprayed back before she could run. And so started a battle of getting each other wet. They all forgot all their worries for a while, running around in the waves, laughing as loudly as they could, laughing even louder when one of them got Jiwoo. By the time it got darker, they were all quite wet.

Yunho and Yeosang ran back to get towels for everyone, throwing them one each, and wondering if Jiwoo should have a towel. Seohyun said there was no need, but Jiwoo snatched hers once she was done.

"The sunset's here, guys," Yeosang said.

They all stood silently, side by side, watching the sky change to brilliant shades of candy, the sun reflecting on the sea. It was breathtakingly beautiful. At some point, Jiwoo crossed her hand with Seohyun's, and she turned to look at her face. Her red hair shone brightly and her eyes were wet.

"I want it to be the last thing that I see before I go," Jiwoo almost whispered. Seohyun's heart sank in her knees. It was really happening.

Jiwoo looked at San and smiled widely, San smiled back and waved at her. Jiwoo asked him to tell everyone that she was thanking them for doing so much for her. They all assured her it was nothing, and said they were gonna miss her.

San looked at Seohyun, nodding and urged the others to come with him. Only Jiwoo and Seohyun remained now, facing the sunset.

"It's really happening," Jiwoo finally said. A cry of pain escaped Seohyun's mouth. She couldn't take it anymore. Jiwoo rubbed her hand comfortingly, making her face herself. "You've given me an adventure. The time I spent with you, that was enough. Today was for you, Seohyun."

"Are you serious?" Seohyun asked.

Jiwoo nodded. "I told everyone it was for me, but no. It was for you. A gift for helping me out so much. For being a friend. A little sister that I always wanted."

Seohyun smiled sadly, "I'm gonna miss you so, so much. I got used to you, I shouldn't have."

"I know," Jiwoo smiled, kissing her forehead and wrapping her in a hug. Seohyun closed her eyes and inhaled. "Don't cry on me right now, Seohyun."

Seohyun laughed a little. "I'm trying not to, you're making it harder by reminding me!" She opened her eyes and saw the boys, watching them from a distance.

"I hope you'll open your heart more, Seohyun. That's my last wish. You had a tough life, but you have so many people, dead and alive, who love you. I hope you remember that, always."

"Unnie..." A tear escaped Seohyun.

Jiwoo watched the sunset, Seohyun in her arms, and it was perfect.

She closed her eyes.

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

Seohyun felt it, felt her presence fade away. She was no longer hugging Jiwoo. She stood for a few seconds before finally collapsing on the sand and she shuddered as tears began to flow. She put her face in her hands and cried her heart out.

The boys approached her, sitting around her, rubbing her back, telling her that it was okay. She just cried and cried, and she knew she was letting go of Joon Hyuk along with Jiwoo too. The proper goodbye that she had so badly wanted, she finally got it.

San put her arms around her and brought her closer, caressing her hair. After a few minutes, she was out of tears. She let her hair cover her face as she rested her head on San's shoulder, trying to normalize her breath.

Jongho handed her a water bottle. She managed a smile and took a few sips, rubbing her eyes. The boys looked at each other. They weren't sure what they should do next.

"God damn me if I ever befriend a ghost again," Seohyun said and finally laughed, making everyone else laugh along.

"Are you okay?" Hongjoong asked.

"Yes, I am, actually," she said, wiping her eyes again. "I'm done crying for a while now." Her eyes went to San, who understood and smiled.

"Alright, let's get some dinner."

-----------

The driver had dropped Seohyun home now, and was on the way to drop the rest of them. As Seohyun entered her home, it felt strange. She felt utterly alone now that she knew Jiwoo wasn't gonna be back ever.

She tried to recall the time, only a few months ago, when she hadn't met Jiwoo yet. What did she even do in her spare time? She could not remember.

Seohyun went in her room and changed into her PJs first. After she combed her hair and scrolled a bit, she got up to turn off the light and saw something lying on her desk.

It was a painting. Of Jiwoo and her, cheek to cheek, smiling, the black cat in their arms. Seohyun gasped a little and examined it. It was really well drawn. Who made it?

She turned the page and saw something written on the back of it:

Seohyun,

I remember now that I loved painting. Since we don't have any photos, I captured us in this painting. Now you have a photo!

Love always, Jiwoo unnie ^^

Seohyun laughed a little as she read how she had addressed herself. "I guess you really liked being called unnie," she thought out loud.

She set the painting on her bookshelf. After being content with its position, she turned off the light, and slept surprisingly peacefully throughout the night.

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

"I swear to god if you don't make fun of me when I do something stupid, I'm never gonna talk to you all again."

"Well, that's new," Yeosang commented, "You're begging for it now."

"Better that then you all being like this!" Seohyun let out a frustrated sigh.

The boys were being ridiculously sensitive with Seohyun, and she was feeling absolutely uncomfortable. She hadn't noticed it the first two days, but then she noticed in the little things; how they'd always offer her food before eating themselves, how they'd always accompany her, etc. She had enough of the special treatment.

"You're acting like someone died," Seohyun said.

"Back at it with the dead jokes are you?" San shook his head.

"Technically, Jiwoo was dead," Jongho remarked.

"So did she die twice then?" Mingi wondered.

"Oh please," Seohyun sighed again, "I just want you all to act like we used to. No more special treatment. Please, this makes it worse. I'm already at terms with Jiwoo going. It was bound to happen."

"Alright, alright," Seonghwa said and shushed her. "We didn't know what else we could do. Back to normal, okay?"

"Thank you," Seohyun truly meant it. "Also, I think I'm ready to share my drums." The boys hooted except one.

"Are you angry?" Mingi asked. Seohyun immediately turned to San, who was suddenly interested in Wooyoung's fingernails.

"Now I am," Seohyun muttered, and San smiled without meeting her eyes. The teacher came and interrupted their session, so they went back to studying.

After school was over, the boys decided to go to their warehouse, while Seohyun asked if anyone would help her bring the drums. San volunteered and they walked to her home, the black cat in San's hand.

As they walked, talking about how it looked like the cat missed Jiwoo, San stopped in his tracks. "I think you have a guest."

Seohyun looked ahead and saw a middle aged man dressed like a doctor. He was a ghost. Seohyun shared a look with San and went ahead.

"How can I help you?" Seohyun asked. The ghost got startled when he saw that San could see him too.

Jiwoo had once explained that to ghosts, Seohyun shined a little brighter than the rest of the humans, which was how they knew. Seohyun had just thought she was crazy but now she realized, now that she was with San, that it must be true.

Or maybe Jiwoo hadn't been joking that one time when she said there was a banner on top of her head and every ghost could see it, only Seohyun couldn't.

"I was told you'd help me," the doctor said. Seohyun nodded and he continued. "I made a mistake. I operated on a patient and it went wrong. It was my fault. The patient lost his vision. They were going to sue me, but when I tried to settle it, we had an argument. They gave up on suing me, saying I wasn't even worth the trouble.

"It was a few days later. I went into a slump and started drinking a lot. I was on the roof of the hospital and it wasn't my intention, but I slipped. That's how I died."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Seohyun said, "How can I help you move on then?"

"I want to let the patient know that I truly am sorry, and I want to let my family, just my family know that it wasn't a suicide. I wouldn't leave them behind on purpose."

"But... isn't it easier for your family this way? Than knowing that you are now a ghost? That it wasn't an accident?"

"I think," San began, "that he's right. It's more easier for them if they know he didn't commit suicide. They'd feel really bad if they think he left them on purpose. No one wants that from the people they love."

The doctor smiled thankfully at San. "I'll take you to the patient first," he said and asked if he should teleport the two of them.

"Do you want to come? You don't have to," Seohyun said.

San stroked the cat's head. "I want to."

"I don't know if it's safe for San to teleport. So we'll take the mundane route. Lead the way, sir."

"It's quite a distance. I hope you have money for taxi," the doctor said.

On the way to the patient's house, they had a nice chat with the doctor. He told them about his life, back when he was famous for being a good surgeon. He had never made a mistake and he had always held pride in that. But with this particular patient, he took a risk he knew he shouldn't have.

He told them he had a 10 year old daughter and he wanted her to become a doctor too. He wanted her to know that it was good to save people, and she shouldn't be afraid to take risks but also be careful at the same time and know her limits.

Seohyun was actually touched by the whole thing. It was good to have ghosts like these once in a while; nice, well-mannered ghosts.

They reached the patient's house. It was in a posh area; the patient himself must be rich. The house looked more like a mansion from the outside. Upon ringing the doorbell, a woman appeared, who the doctor told them was his wife. She seemed to be past 50s.

"We're relatives of Dr. Lee, the one who operated on your husband. We're here to discuss things about the case."

The woman passed them a skeptical look, "The doctor passed away, didn't he? We gave up on the case altogether. What do you want now?"

"We just want to talk to Mr. Cho. It's important. Please."

The woman let them in, guided them to the chairs in the garden and said she'd bring her husband. San and her sat down, admiring the lush gardens. The doctor paced worriedly.

"It will be alright. I have a way with words," Seohyun assured the doctor.

The husband and wife arrived; San and Seohyun got up and greeted them respectfully. "I am Seohyun, Dr. Lee's distant relative. This is San, my cousin."

"Have a seat," he said and they all settled down, including the wife. Seohyun sighed and decided she'd get to the point.

"Dr. Lee made a mistake. You must know that," Seohyun said. The wife looked at her husband worriedly.

"So he says," Mr. Cho said, staring in the distance.

"He wants to apologize, sincerely. I'll get to the point. He's here right now. I can see ghosts, the dead who have not moved on. He had unfinished business here, because he wanted to sincerely apologize. He won't be able to move on until he hears your forgiveness."

"Is this a prank?" Mrs. Cho asked, but Mr. Cho shushed her.

"I hope you can prove he's here," Mr. Cho said.

"Dr. Lee told you about some ginseng plant right before you went under anesthesia. No one was there when he told you, right?"

"That's true," Mr. Cho smiled. His wife began to complain but he raised a hand. "That's interesting. My father had a friend. He could see ghosts too. Are you the Mediator?"

San and Seohyun looked at each other in surprise. "That's what they call me, yes."

Mr. Cho laughed a little. "I used to not believe my father and that friend of his for the longest time, until I saw something and couldn't believe my eyes. That's why I believe you too, girl. You're doing a good job."

"Thank you," Seohyun said.

"So Dr. Lee is here? I can speak directly to him?"

"Yes sir."

"Alright. Dr. Lee, it was your fault, I know. But I truly forgive you. There are things we cannot avoid. We call it fate or destiny. What's bound to happen, fortune or misfortune, happens and you cannot avoid it. That's what I believe. I want you to move on, without the burden of my accident holding you back. You didn't do it on purpose, and that is enough for me."

Tears escaped Mrs. Cho's eyes and she wiped them. Seohyun muttered to San, 'wise man', and they watched Dr. Lee's eyes shine with tears to as he said his apology and thanks. Seohyun conveyed the message.

They were offered tea, but Seohyun told them they had to get home. The man offered to help Seohyun out if she ever had trouble with this Mediator job. She accepted, saying she would pay a visit someday.

The three of them left the house, standing in the street and reflecting on what had happened.

"That went rather smoothly," Seohyun commented.

"I know!" San widened his eyes at her.

"Thank you, Seohyun. It really does feel like a burden off my shoulder."

"No problem, we should move now. What's the next job?"

"I don't think I can see them like this," the doctor said. "I love my daughter and my wife very much. Seeing them would want me to stay. Do you think I can write a letter to my wife? You can give it to her tomorrow."

"Will your wife believe that it was really written by you?"

"We had a secret code between us; we created it. If I mention it in the letter, she'll have to believe it. And she'll recognize my handwriting too."

San and Seohyun decided that was convenient, and Seohyun handed the doctor a pen and paper. He wrote a short one, muttering something about how the less he wrote the better it would be. Then he folded it and handed it to Seohyun.

"I trust you. You'll give the letter tomorrow, right? I wrote the address on the other page."

"I will deliver it personally."

"Thank you," the doctor smiled. "Do you think I'll be able to watch over my daughter?"

"Maybe you will," Seohyun said.

"Guardian angel," San added, making the doctor smile as he disappeared. He had moved on.

"Well," Seohyun said, "That was quick. I love it when ghosts are wise enough to actually know how to handle their mess."

San scoffed. "Let's go."

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

Grabbing some coffee from a café they passed by, they took a taxi to Seohyun's home. Seohyun insisted that they should eat before they packed the drums and go to the warehouse. San helped her set the table. She had made pasta last night, which she reheated, and had some chocolates for dessert.

"Does your mom ever come home?" San asked as he nibbled on the chocolate.

Seohyun yawned. San reflected. They both were tired and sleepy now. "She has an apartment near her office so she only comes once a week here."

San yawned again and Seohyun laughed. "Should I let you nap?"

San smiled lazily. "Let's just pack the drums while you're still angry. I don't want you to change your mind."

Seohyun threw the wrapper at him and he caught it before it hit his face, throwing it right back. She dodged it. "Come on, let's dismantle it."

It took them ten minutes to dismantle and pack the drums. But it was already night time, and the boys had locked the warehouse and gone home when San asked them.

"Well, I'll call them here tomorrow. They should take it if they want it so much."

"Good idea." San said, yawning again.

"I think if I let you go home now, you're gonna fall asleep in the middle of the road. Take a power nap, San."

"Oh no, I shouldn't. I'll just go," he said and walked past her, only to be grabbed by the arms and led to a room despite him insisting he was not THAT sleepy.

San entered the room and immediately knew it was Seohyun's. The potted plants, the books, the mess. And the painting.

"So that's the painting, eh," he said, walking towards it and looking at the detail, absolutely wowed by it.

"How do you know? I don't think I mentioned," Seohyun narrowed her eyes.

"Jiwoo told me she left a gift for you," he smiled. Seohyun went to stand with him, looking at the painting with him.

"She's really good," she said.

San looked down at her. She felt so small; he was about a head taller than her. He turned towards her, his hand going to play with her hair. "You're really okay, right?"

"I am, San," Seohyun assured him. "I do feel lonely when I'm home, but you guys make up for it everyday."

San nodded. He was still playing with her hair. Seohyun suddenly flushed; they were standing quite close to each other. San noticed her looking at him, her light brown eyes shining.

He seemed to be searching her eyes for something. And Seohyun wasn't sure what it was, but she felt her heart pumping louder every second. She was, oh god, she was so attracted to him. He made her feel so many things just by looking at her.

"What are you looking at?" Seohyun asked- almost whispered.

"You," San said, bringing his hand to cup her face, surprised when she leaned in to his touch and closed her eyes. It made him melt. He brought her in for a hug and she gladly wrapped her arms around his waist, his small waist. She could hear his heart beat just as loudly. San rested his face on her head, rocking them back and forth. He didn't want to let go, he wanted to stay like this as long as he could.

Seohyun sighed. All she could think about was how he felt. Her mind was truly blank.

San finally broke apart a little, Seohyun's arms still around his waist. He was staring at her, his hands cupping her face, putting stray hair behind her ears. Seohyun wanted to do the same to him, but at the same time she didn't want to let go of him.

"Seohyun, Seohyun," he whispered, loving the sound of her name on his lips. She bit her lip. It seemed like they just stared at each other for the longest time, afraid to say anything, until Seohyun smiled at the situation.

San kissed her forehead first, a light peck. When she didn't move away, he tilted her face a bit upwards to kiss her cheekbone, then her cheek, leaving butterfly kisses, making her tremble all over. She clenched his shirt tighter, out of breath already. Their noses brushed and she loved the feeling of it, his breath warm on her. And when their lips brushed, San finally kissed her properly.

And Seohyun's mind went blank.

San's hand went behind her neck and Seohyun finally left his waist, only to cup his face herself as she guided him along. They tasted chocolate on each other. Seohyun was deepening the kiss, she just couldn't get enough. San mirrored her movements, following along, making her bend backwards until her back hit the desk and her hand went to rest on it for support.

San broke apart to catch his breath. His eyes were glazed, and so were Seohyun's. He put his hand on Seohyun's, the one that was on the desk, and with a sultry look and half a smile, he kissed her again, so passionately that it made Seohyun curve back and back until San was half on top of her.

When they broke apart, finally short of breath, Seohyun smirked. "I thought you were sleepy."

"I still am," he said, resting her forehead against her and smiling, eyes shut.

Seohyun lead him to her bed, making him sit. She bit her lip and smirked as she positioned herself on San's lap. San held her by her waist and let her kiss him; on his cheeks, like he had done, a peck on his nose which made him laugh, and finally a kiss to the lips.

"God, the way you make me feel, Choi San!" She sighed dramatically.

"And how do I make you feel?" He questioned. Seohyun shook her head. "I'll tell you later. Now we sleep."

San set his alarm for a power nap and with Seohyun in her arms, they both slept peacefully. When the alarm did go off, Seohyun didn't budge. With a kiss on her forehead, he left the house.

----------

"There's something wrong with Seohyun," Yeosang announced and everyone turned to look at him.

"There's more?" Wooyoung asked sarcastically and Seohyun glared at him, turning to look at Yeosang, asking him what he meant by that.

"I don't know," Yeosang threw his hands in the air, clearly frustrated, "She keeps smiling to herself. It's creepy."

Seohyun and San shared a look and San, despite his struggle not to, burst out laughing. Seohyun pursed her lips, trying not to smile but failed.

"See?" Yeosang pointed at her, "Has she ever smiled like this?"

Wooyoung was looking at San and Seohyun. "You both.... Is there a secret I don't know about!?"

"I don't have secrets anymore..." Seohyun lied shamelessly, shrugging. San put his hands in the air and said, "I only laughed because of what Yeosang said."

"No, you're looking at each other with the most disgusting look in your eyes," Yeosang observed, "Don't tell me you two..."

"Ah, no, that cannot have happened!" Hongjoong waved him off as Seonghwa gasped.

"How could you even suggest such a thing?" Seonghwa shook his head, clearly disappointed in Yeosang.

"No, I didn't even say anything yet..." Yeosang looked at Seohyun to apologize but she smirked at him, making his eyes go wide.

"I am RIGHT! Something happened between these two, she smirked at me!"

Seohyun immediately put her poker face and looked at Mingi and Jongho, who were right in front of her, with the most innocent look in her eyes. "Did you see me smirk?"

Mingi and Jongho shook their heads. Yeosang shot Seohyun a glare. "I know I'm right. If this turns out to be true..."

"Stop being so dramatic," San said, shushing Yeosang, and got up to drink water.

They were all in the warehouse, having just left school, and were currently relaxing and drinking juice, chatting with each other. Yeosang had noticed Seohyun smiling more than usual, which made him think something happened. It didn't help that San and Seohyun couldn't stop exchanging glances.

Seohyun had brought the drum set with Yunho before coming to the warehouse. Seohyun motioned to Mingi and they got up, leaving the rest behind.

"Have you ever played drums before? Like, actual drums?"

"Yeah," Mingi answered, "A friend of mine had them."

"Alright, you should learn how to arrange them."

So Seohyun taught Mingi all about the components of a drum set, their various uses and how to dismantle them and put them back. Mingi listened carefully, and Seohyun smiled inwardly at how happy he looked. It made her feel guilty that she delayed it so much.

When they were done, they stood back to have a look.

"A much needed upgrade," Mingi smiled, ruffling Seohyun's hair, "Thanks."

"This drum set is my baby, okay? Use it well."

"Yes ma'am," Mingi saluted and Seohyun pointed at the drums. "Have a go."

Mingi sat on the stool, testing the weight of the drum sticks in his hand. He tested the sounds then, and played a little, freestyling, laughing as he did. The others had come to watch him, cheering and hyping him up.

"Not bad," Seohyun said when he finished, "Just go with your heart. Don't think."

"Your turn," Mingi handed her the drum sticks and she almost panicked.

"I think I'm good," she hesitated but someone pushed her forward. It was Yunho.

"I didn't go through all that trouble of coming to your house and carrying the drums to not see you play," he shook his head.

"Alright. Just a second," Seohyun said, tying her hair in a ponytail. "There you go."

Everyone hooted, clearly excited. This was the first time she was going to actually play in front of them, save for the time she had played the violin for San. San smiled at her as if he was thinking the same thing. Seohyun inhaled, testing the drums, and began.

She realized she really did enjoy playing the drums; there was just something about drums where you could express freely, and loudly, as if you wanted everyone to hear it. And it made her smile like crazy, put her brain on pause for a while and play with her heart.

She played like crazy, and when she was done, everyone was in awe.

"You're actually very good!" Hongjoong said, finally clapping. Seohyun bowed her head and got up. "I didn't expect this."

"It's like she was a different person," Jongho was looking at her with wonder.

"Teacher! you're my teacher from today," Mingi declared, and Seohyun scoffed at him.

"You don't need a teacher, teach yourself. I know you can."

"Nooo~" he wailed, "I would love you as a teacher!"

Seohyun just waved him off, going to San and smiling embarrassingly at him. He pinched her cheeks and she pouted, the two of them forgetting for a moment that everyone was still watching her.

"You two... there is something different!" Jongho laughed in disbelief. San and Seohyun started laughing. Yeosang just shook hands with Jongho, thanking him for finally noticing.

"They're not even bothering to deny it, guys," Yunho grinned.

"San is mine!" Wooyoung shouted dramatically, coming to hug San, sticking his tongue out at Seohyun. Seohyun glared at him, baring her teeth at him, and snatched San from him. Wooyoung gasped, and suddenly the two of them were in a battle, both pulling at San by his arms, who was laughing painfully, shouting for help.

"He's not even choosing!" Seohyun laughed, and winked at Wooyoung as she said, "Let's ditch him."

Wooyoung pushed San away, rather forcefully, who fell in Yeosang's arms. He put his arm in Seohyun and she flipped her hair as they walked away from him.

"No one loves me," San buried his nose in Yeosang's neck, pouting. Yeosang sighed, patting his head.

"You're right," Yeosang said, "Absolutely right."

"Hey..." San moaned like a little kid.

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sparrow-flies-south · 3 years

Text

Forget-Me-Not

Pairings: Thomas & Virgil Summary: It takes him a moment to figure out what Roman’s saying. It takes him a moment longer to be able to process it. Virgil with amnesia, not knowing what was happening. Not knowing he was safe.

“He remembers us,” Roman continues. “Sort of. He just- doesn’t seem to remember the last few years.”

“How many years?” Thomas croaks out.

Virgil loses his memory. Thomas makes sure he knows just how much things have changed. Warnings: Amnesia Notes: Written for Virgil's birthday, except a couple of days late because I forgot I had this idea until last night

Thank you Mishii for the title!

Masterpost Read on AO3

Waking up anxious wasn’t exactly unheard of, but it has been a while since Thomas had done it.

He dresses slowly, racking his mind for anything he could have missed – deadlines, birthdays, something that would explain how he is feeling, but nothing comes. Virgil doesn’t even show up to berate him for anything.

So it must be just one of those days.

He spends an hour trying to work before giving up and deciding to watch Park and Recreation to try to distract himself. Janus would be proud.

He half expects Janus to pop up to bully him into taking care of himself, but he doesn’t. Neither does Logan, to explain what’s wrong, or Patton, or Roman, or even Remus.

It’s Virgil’s absence that he notices the most, though.

Because Virgil was never one to shy away from telling Thomas what he was doing wrong. And even though they get along better now, Virgil no longer lashing out at anyone who got close like a feral cat, Virgil will still do his job.

By lunch time, he decides that he’s given his sides long enough.

“Okay,” Thomas says, standing in his usual spot of the living room. “Someone want to explain what’s happening?”

It’s meant for Virgil, an obvious place for him to jump in, without the pressure that Thomas knows would scare him away. And if not Virgil, then Logan would come out, ready to break everything down into facts.

Instead, it’s Roman who appears.

Roman looks – stressed. His outfit is the same as usual, but his hair is messy, as if he’s been running his hands through it too much. He smiles sheepishly at Thomas.

“What, uh, what appears to be the problem, Thomas?” he asks, and that hesitation is another thing that’s wrong.

“I was kind of hoping you would tell me that,” Thomas says, trying not to let his growing fear show. “Where is everyone?”

“They’re, uh, busy! Very, very busy. So busy that I’m the one who came to help you.”

“Right.” Thomas doesn’t believe that one bit. “Does that have anything to do with why I’m feeling like this?”

Roman frowns, concern growing on his face. “Like what?”

Thomas sighs, and runs his hand through his hair. “Anxious,” he answers, and Roman’s face falls. “I’ve been feeling it all day. Is that- Is Virgil-”

“Virgil, uh, may have something to do with it,” Roman admits. “Not deliberately, it’s just that, well-”

“Roman, this really isn’t helping my anxiety, buddy,” Thomas says. “Just tell me. Is Virgil okay?”

Roman sighs. “Physically he’s fine. Or rather, metaphysically, perhaps. You know what I mean.”

“And mentally?”

“He, uh, well… hemayhaveamneisia.”

It takes him a moment to figure out what Roman’s saying. It takes him a moment longer to be able to process it. Virgil with amnesia, not knowing what was happening. Not knowing he was safe.

“He remembers us,” Roman continues. “Sort of. He just- doesn’t seem to remember the last few years.”

“How many years?” Thomas croaks out.

Roman pulls a face. “He doesn’t remember telling us his name.”

God, that’s- that might be even worse than Virgil not remembering anything. Because the Virgil back then had been constantly on edge, constantly lashing out because he thought he’d be attacked first if he didn’t. And Thomas and his sides- they’d just made things worse. Constantly.

“Patton is with him,” Roman adds, which helped, a bit. “Logan, too, though I think he’s focusing on finding a way to reverse this. I figured I’d be the most use up here. Virgil and I – well, I can’t imagine he wants to see me right now.”

He says this last part with a sad smile. Thomas doesn’t know what to say – Virgil loves Roman, would likely want everyone nearby when he was feeling bad. But the Virgil of before was a different story.

And right now, Roman isn’t the one Thomas can focus on.

“Is he-” Thomas takes a breath, figures out what he wants to say. “I want to see him.”

Roman hesitates. “I’m not sure if that’s-”

“Please,” Thomas says. “If he doesn’t want to, then that’s fine, but- can you please just ask?”

Roman hesitated a moment longer, and then nods, sinking down without a word. As soon as he’s gone, Thomas feels like a puppet with all its strings cut. He deflates, sinking onto the couch, and rests his head in his hands.

This is- bad. Really bad. Because Virgil clearly isn’t taking it well – if how Thomas is feeling is anything to go by, Virgil is scared, has been scared all day.

“You rang?” a voice intones from the side.

Thomas leaps to his feet. “Virgil,” he cries out in relief.

Virgil flinches, and then stiffens, as if he’s trying to hide the fact that he just flinched. He’s not wearing purple, just his old black hoodie, and the sight of it makes something in Thomas’ chest clench.

“Sorry,” Thomas says. “I can just call you Anxiety, if you want?”

Virgil hunches in on himself. “Call me whatever,” he mutters. “I don’t care.”

Which means that he does care, very deeply. Only problem is, Thomas isn’t sure which way that goes.

“Right,” Thomas says, and then he stops, because he really doesn’t know where to go from there.

Virgil fidgets. “Princey said you wanted to see me?”

“Yeah. I, uh, actually wanted to see how you were.”

Virgil freezes, his eyes widening. “What?”

“Roman – I mean, Prince, told me what happened,” Thomas explains.

Virgil doesn’t reply, just keeps his gaze fixed on a point across the room. His whole body is taught, like he’s ready to make a break for it at any minute.

“I’ve been feeling anxious all day,” Thomas continues. He manages a smile and adds, “Kept expecting you to show up and tell me everything I’m doing wrong.”

“Yeah, well, there’s probably something,” Virgil mutters.

Thomas huffs, feeling like he’s being hissed at by a feral kitten. He wonders how he ever felt scared of Virgil.

Virgil looks surprised at Thomas’ reaction, and the edge of his lips twitch in what Thomas can now recognise as a Virgil-smile.

“This must be scary for you,” Thomas adds, gently, and Virgil’s face shutters.

“It’s fine.”

Thomas shakes his head. “Anxiety-”

“Look, if there’s nothing else you want, I might as well go.”

“Don’t,” Thomas blurts, and Virgil goes perfectly still. “I mean, if you really want to you can, I’m not going to force you. But, uh, I’d like it if you stay.”

“You never want me around,” Virgil says suspiciously, like he thinks this might be some kind of trap, and Thomas’ heart aches.

Thomas sighs. “I know I never used to, I can’t deny that. But things have changed since then.”

“My name.”

“That was part of it, yeah, but- I guess I figured out how important you are.”

Virgil’s breath shudders, and Thomas continues, hoping he’s saying the right thing. “You were always trying to look out for me, weren’t you? I never appreciated that.”

“Right,” Virgil says thickly.

“I love you,” Thomas adds, and Virgil’s face falls.

“You can’t just-“

“Why not?” Thomas asks.

Virgil doesn’t reply, not that Thomas really expected him to. Thomas steps back and sits on the sofa, Virgil watching him like he’s a wild animal the whole time.

“I was watching Parks and Rec,” Thomas says, and Virgil nods.

“Right,” he says, “I’ll just-”

“Do you want to join me?” Thomas asks.

Virgil goes tense again, and God, Thomas really did mess up so many times, didn’t he? But then Virgil says, “Really?” in a quiet voice, and something warm inside him begins to untangle.

“Yeah,” Thomas says, and pats the sofa next to him.

It takes another moment for Virgil to sit down, still tightly wound and casting glances Thomas’ way. As the episode continues, Virgil begins to relax, just a little. Thomas finds himself edging closer to Virgil – it’s not even on purpose, just his instincts pushing him to be as close to his Sides as he can.

He doesn’t notice how close they are until his arm brushes against Virgil’s. Virgil goes tense, and then relaxes into the touch. Thomas carefully curls an arm around him, the contact making his skin buzz.

“What are you doing?” Virgil hisses.

“I can stop,” Thomas offers. “If you want.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Virgil mutters, and Thomas smothers a smile.

“You’re my friend,” Thomas explains. “I want to hug you.”

“I’m your Anxiety.”

“Yeah,” Thomas says. “And that’s- I love you for it.”

“You’re not supposed to.”

“But wouldn’t it be easier if I did?”

Virgil doesn’t answer, but he does lean into Thomas’ touch. Thomas chooses to count it as a victory.

“Anxiety, I’m so, so sorry I made you feel that way,” Thomas says, meaning every word.

“It’s fine. I just- things are really different now?” He sounded scared, more so than Thomas had ever heard him. It was like he thought Thomas was about to pull the rug out from underneath him.

“Yeah, buddy,” Thomas says. “Things are- things are pretty great, now, actually.”

Virgil curls into Thomas, and oh, he’s crying now. Thomas holds him tighter, presses a kiss to his forehead. Eventually, the shaking subsides, but Thomas still doesn’t move away. Virgil needs him right now, which means that Thomas? Thomas isn’t going anywhere.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #virgil sanders #tss virgil #character thomas #platonic thvi #my fic

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it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream · 3 years

Text

Silva Lining (Saul Silva x Reader) Chapter 11

Warnings: Mentions of infant death

Word Count: 1.8k

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

-19 years ago-

As per usual, Farah was bored. She was home in the kingdom of Solaria and once again her family were throwing another ball. Of course she had to be there, she was part of the royal family after all. Her sister was Queen Luna Star, she couldn’t make the family look bad by ditching the event, especially as it was held in her honour.

Big ball dresses and small talk wasn’t her thing. This was temporary however. Soon Farah would be going back to Alfea to take over as Headmistress and she’d finally start living by her own rules. Her mentor and friend Rosalind would be there to guid her and Saul, a friend she had met as a student, would be there as the Headmaster of the Specialists. She couldn’t think of better people to be surrounded with.

There was one upside to the party. People from all over the magic realms had been invited and there was one person in particular that caught Farah’s eye. She didn’t expect things to go the way they did but one thing led to another and she and the mysterious, dark haired stranger found a quiet room in the castle and made love until the rise of the morning sun.

The story goes that she awoke from a dream, a prophecy. The stranger was never seen again and later was found to be the king of the Blood Witches, an enemy to the fairies. Three weeks later and Farah found that she was pregnant. The prophecy was coming true.

“A child, born on a Soul moon, half Fairy, half Witch. Powers bestowed by the Great Dragon, will be the balance between good and evil. The key to the lives of all those who harness power, they are the one true heir to all the lands.”

The former King and Queen of Solaria were ashamed of Farah. Hiding the truth about the pregnancy from everyone. Even her sister Luna kept quiet of the affair, as she did not want anyone else to have claim to the throne, prophecy or no prophecy.

Nine months later and a girl was born. Farah was elated, however there was a dark sinister plot she didn’t know about. The doctors were ordered to do something unforgivable by Queen Luna, under the pressure from her parents. Farah was told that the baby was still born, a spell cast on the newborn to make it seem as if she were not breathing. Farah was inconsolable. Maybe the prophecy wasn’t supposed to come true. But it was.

Queen Luna had a soldier take the baby to the first world and left it on the steps of a hospital, where it would be taken care of as a changeling, nobody the wiser.

Farah grieved for her lost child but finally moved on, becoming Headmistress of Alfea and leaving royalty behind. She didn’t speak to her family, didn’t mention her sister or her lineage to anyone and changed her last name. It was kept a secret so she could live a somewhat normal life. Eventually the story was re-told to her three friends, Ben Harvey, Saul Silva and Rosalind who all swore never to tell a soul.

Farah thought that part of her life was behind her, a mere, sad memory of something that shouldn’t have been. But she was wrong. 18 years later, Saul found a changeling crying in the woods over the body of a burned one. She didn’t know it then but Farah’s life would never be the same again.

——————————————————————————————————

-Y/N’s POV-

Growing up, you’d connected with books like Harry Potter. Something about you could connect with the main character. Treated unfairly over and over by families that were meant to take care of you. No belongings, no friends, a tiny room and worst of all… no parents. You’d sat in your room at nights pouring over the words in your books, imagining the magical life you wished you could escape to.

You wanted a group of friends like Ron and Hermione. The adventures, the power, the fun. Even reading those books would never prepare you for a moment like this. You’d dreamt about the day you found your birth parents, gone over and over the meeting in your head a thousand times. You hadn’t pictured it like this.

You were still in Farah’s office. She was looking at you, tears rolling down her cheeks. You were crying too, what were you supposed to say? You felt like you couldn’t breath. You’d always thought you weren’t wanted, that your parents had just given you up like people give up smoking after new years, but that wasn’t the case at all. She’d thought you were dead. She didn’t know… She didn’t know. You wanted to be mad, be angry but all you could feel was upset and confused.

“I- I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to say, I don’t know… who I am.” You quickly swept the tears from your face and stood, knocking back the chair in your hurry.

“Please don’t run away Y/N, I.. I wanted to tell you sooner but I needed to be sure. I didn’t want to give you false hope and I couldn’t go through losing you all over again.” You wanted to scream, you didn’t know whether to hug the woman in front of you or run for the hills. It was all too much.

“Stella knows doesn’t she, that’s part of the reason Queen Luna took her, she’s my cousin…” You were sobbing again, more like hyperventilating. Saul had bust the door down as soon as her heard your gasps of air. In seconds you were in his arms and he was trying to get you to breath again. Your ears were ringing and you couldn’t concentrate. You just needed to get out of there.

You did the only thing you knew how to do well. You ran, taking Sauls hand in yours, you opened a portal and poof. Both of you disappeared from Headmistress Dowling's office.

Now, the truth is you thought you’d become stronger after all the training and the hard times you been through. But all this drama and truth takes the cake. How could you not run away after that overload of information?

Mums your Headmistress.. check

Dads the king of the Blood Witches…. check

Your future husband is your mothers best friend… check

Your bestfriend is actually your cousin… check

Your Auntie, the Queen of Solaria pretended you were dead and made you a changeling.. check

And to top it all off you were the answer to an ancient prophecy and apparently you were supposed to be the answer to the balance between good and evil. Just another day in the life of Y/N.

Even when you landed through the portal you were still hyperventilating. You wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole. Saul was on you again in a flash, trying to calm you down before your powers went haywire. Hey, at least you had an explanation for why they did that from time to time. You were more powerful than you’d ever thought possible.

“Angel, please try and breath, copy me, in and out, it’s okay, I’ve got you, i’m here, look at me. Y/N LOOK AT ME!” Sauls pleading and authoritative voice seemed to snap you from your panic. Your eyes were full of unshed tears and you felt physically drained. His arms came around you and his chin rested on the top of your head. God, you wanted to be mad at him for not telling you but you couldn’t. It wasn’t his place to tell you and you knew that. Plus, being in his arms was the only place you felt safe, you weren’t about to ruin that. You needed Saul more than he would ever know.

You calmed, peeking out of Sauls arms to take in your surroundings. You don’t know why your mind had taken you here, this was the last place you or Saul would probably want to see. Asterdale. The wind swept through your hair and spray from the ocean below dusted your tear streaked face.

“Saul, please, tell me what really happened here. I need to know the truth.” He nodded. You pictured the barrier around the building coming down and a flash of electricity bolted from your hands, the ruins now visible.

“It all started with Rosalind…..” He dove into telling you the truth about what really happened. How Rosalind had lead Farah, Ben and Saul to believe there was no one in the village, burned ones were the only ones left. Apparently Sky’s father had been part of her plan too, he knew the truth and Saul and him had a fight.. ending in Saul killing his best friend Andreas. It was all Rosalind’s fault.. Rosalind, the person Bloom was trying to free from Farah’s spells.

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It had been a few hours of just talking with Saul, laying in his arms, when you both decided to return to the school. By now, people would probably start to wonder where you both were and you didn’t need to make things any more suspicious. It was also still too dangerous to be out in the open like this.

Something about the school looked different to you now. Older, more worn down. Full of lies and secrets hidden in the walls. It was as if she sensed your presence. Farah was waiting on the steps outside, pacing nervously, your friends waiting along side her. You don’t know what compelled you to do it, one minute you were walking next to Saul, the next you were in front of Miss Dowling… your mum, and then you were in her arms. At first she stilled, shocked perhaps, then she hugged you with everything she had in her, tears flowing freely, mixing with your own. It felt right. It wasn’t her fault you were a changeling. If anything, it was just as unfair on her. The baby she was excited to have, was secretly taken away from her and for years she was lead to believe a cruel lie. You were pretty sure you even heard Saul sniffle from behind you.

Your friends had been filled in by Farah, she knew you would need support after the ordeals you’d gone through. There were no words for the shock everyone had experienced today. Yet, you still felt like something bigger was on the horizon.

The burned ones were still a major threat, Bloom was still having dreams about Rosalind, and Beatrix was locked up in some magic stealing cell. Most of all, you had a mother and a father and the King of the Blood Witches, well, he was still out there.

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okay so, this is a short chapter compared to what I usually post, it's more of like a filler chapter but I hope you still like it now you've learnt the story of the Reader and Farah's relationship! Please if you have any thoughts or ideas let them be heard in the comments!!! Please reblog/like/follow <3

CHAPTER 12 ------ CLICK HERE

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 3 years

Note

Hullo senpai! Just out of curiosity, who would our little raven faerie be willing to befriend from each of the dorms? (Kay, I know it’s taking a while with Jade though)

Check below the cut for what Miss Raven thinks of each NRC student. It’s split into friends, friendly acquaintances, acquaintances, foes, and “it’s complicated”.

I don’t usually get to talk about how she gets along with characters outside of Jade and Rook, so this was fun to do. I hope I can write Miss Raven interacting with other students in the TWST cast one day!

Friends

🌹 Riddle and Raven are both childish characters that try to be serious and studious, so they vibe well with each other. They like to get together for study sessions and afternoon teas to shit talk the twins.

♠️ Deuce isn’t that bright, but Raven appreciates his determination and efforts to change. He reminds her of an underdog hero in a storybook that’s trying his best to improve himself. She’ll support him on his way to becoming an honors student!

☀️ Kalim’s the sunshine to Raven’s gloominess. He’s the kind of friend that tries to drag her out of the attic to eat or play more. Sometimes his energy is a little too much for her to handle, but he means well!

🤖 Ortho’s so eager and bubbly, she’s a little protective of him. Raven sees a bit of the old her in him, and wants to help protect his innocence from the cruel world.

⚔️ Silver is quiet and stoic... and most importantly, not a troublemaker at all. Their relationship started off strangely—they just stared at each other for a while, quietly sizing the other up, then started talking when the tension became too much to bear. Raven finds Silver’s down-to-earth personality relaxing also he keeps Sebek at bay.

Friendly Acquaintances

♣️ Trey is a reluctant babysitter the typical “friend of a friend”. He knows of Raven through Rook (fellow Science Club member) and Riddle (childhood friend), so he’s under the impression that she must be trustworthy. If anything, Trey’s thankful that Riddle has found a new friend and that someone other than him (and Vil) can watch Rook. He keeps saying Raven is small and needs to eat more if she wants to grow.

🐍 Jamil keeps an eye on Raven because of her friendship with Kalim. He was initially nice out of obligation, but warmed up a bit when he learned she had a bone to pick with Octavinelle too. When he spots a wild bug, he calls on the bird to eliminate it.

👑 Vil associates with Raven because Rook does. He’s the one that’s often apologizing for Rook’s (weird) behavior, but that doesn’t stop him from also chastising Raven herself. In a strange way, it motivates her to try even harder to meet Vil’s high standards. He won’t say it out loud, but he wants Raven to be the best “her” possible, because Vil won’t settle for anything less for Rook.

🦇 Lilia’s wisdom is something Raven greatly admires. She often asks him for advice, but can’t always find it in herself to venture to Diasomnia’s sinister dormitory to seek Lilia out. (... Sometimes Lilia feeds her bad advice, which leads to terrible outcomes.) Raven can’t really relate to his hobbies or his bouts of mischief, but their relationship is serviceable enough.

Acquaintances

♦️ Cater is a bit too flashy and modern for Raven’s tastes. He’s always shoving his phone in her face and asking for a picture, or for her Magicam handle (she doesn’t have one, haha)... saying all these tech-y things she doesn’t understand! Besides that, he’s... okay.

🐆 Ruggie is someone Raven considers to be a “henchman”. He’s always slinking about and getting into mischief, doing dirty work for others... it’s frankly a little sketchy, in her opinion. She’s wary of him, but she finds his work ethic and resourcefulness to be admirable traits.

🐺 Jack is a person Raven respects to a certain degree, but she’s intimidated by how he looks. His gruff and blunt way of speaking also makes it easy for her to misinterpret what he says as angry, so she tends to walk on eggshells around him.

🍎 Epel is Raven’s old etiquette lesson partner. They don’t interact much outside of those lessons (probably because just seeing the other gives them flashbacks of Vil’s stern instruction).

💀 Idia? Who’s that? He’s pretty much always in his room, so Raven barely knows of his existence outside of what Ortho has told her. Idia sounds like the fabled Loch Ness Monster or something.

🐉 Malleus is difficult to approach, just as the rumors say. Raven is cautious around him, careful to keep professional. She has interacted with him a few times (because Crowley asked her to fetch Malleus for certain meetings), but limits other contact. If she accidentally offends him... there’s no telling what could happen.

Foes

♥️ Ace picks on her for a variety of things (her short stature, her relation to Crowley, etc) so Raven’s not a fan. He doesn’t really apply himself either, despite his good memory, which Raven thinks is a waste.

⚡️ Sebek and Raven started off on the wrong foot because he deemed her “suspicious” when she came to fetch Malleus for a meeting one day. He’s perfectly respectable as a student, but his imposing physique and booming voice scare Raven, and she’s a little irritated by some of his views.

“It’s Complicated”

🦁 They used to be acquaintances... then they were foes... and now they’re...? Kind of friendly acquaintances? Raven considered Leona a brute and a slacker a while ago. She disagrees with him on a lot of things, too. After spending some time stranded in Savanaclaw, Raven came to understand him a little better, even if Leona’s still rough around the edges. Perhaps with a little more polishing, he could truly become a “prince” in her eyes. They both suck with communicating their appreciation, so... they don’t hang out or casually talk to each other often.

🐙 They used to be friendly acquaintances, now Raven considers him a foe. Azul tricked her, and she hasn’t forgotten about it for one second. Since “that incident”, things have been tense, and Raven is always suspicious of him. She thinks his business is generally shady and just causes the headmaster headaches, too.

🐬 They used to be friends, now they’re... well, I’m not sure what they are. Probably foe, right? ... Right? Essentially, Jade pretended to be Raven’s friend for one of Azul’s schemes, but when she found out about his betrayal, the tables turned. When she’s not running or hiding from him, she’s bickering with him. It always seems to be a battle of wits and pointed words between the two of them. Haha no she doesn’t like like him, what do you mean—

🦈 They used to be friendly acquaintances, but now Raven thinks of him as a foe because of “that incident”. Floyd is chaos incarnate, and a walking safety hazard. Raven can’t be around him without something breaking or (Great Seven forbid) someone being kidnapped. She avoids him for her own safety.

🏹 Raven used to call him a foe, but now she considers him a friend! Rook was pretty much a weirdo stalker at first, but after “that incident”, Raven came to respect his honesty and endless optimism. (I mean, he’s still weird but she’s gotten more used to that, too.) Raven finds it interesting how he can see something beautiful or positive, even in the bleakest of situations. Nope, she doesn’t like him that way—

#twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #Raven Crowley #notes from the writing raven #question

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noire-pandora · 3 years

Text

“Midnight Rendezvous” (and “Take my hand”) for @14daysdalovers. Also on A03

Words: 3162

Pairing: Solavellan

Warnings: it gets a tiny bit steamy towards the end. Nothing too intense but just to be sure. (still not confident enough to write smut. One day!)

Before joining the Inquisition, midnight rarely found Solas wide awake, staring at the ceiling of his room, thoughts racing through his mind and refusing to bend down to his will. In his long life, he succeeded in becoming the master of his thoughts and feelings, able to switch and navigate through them as effortlessly as a seamstress spun her threads. He walked through life, taking pride in his concentration techniques, his indomitable focus not once defeated. Until he met the Inquisitor.

Her mind numbing smirk and cheerful laughter silently found their way into his mind, nestling there and slowly eroding through the barriers set to keep any distraction at bay. Her curiosity and kind nature planted the seed of acceptance in his heart, acceptance that maybe, maybe this Tranquil like world wasn't a world out of his nightmares.

Slowly, she pushed him to become curious about her life, her thoughts and her mind. There, he found a feeling he had never hoped of meeting again since Mythal's death: love. A gentle, patient love. One that accepted him as he was, without questioning and without prodding his mind to reach his deepest secrets.

And now, midnight found him contemplating those facts, turning and tossing in his humble bed, the sheets wrapping around his ankles. He could not comprehend why she willingly offered her heart to him. Her behaviour forced him to lay awake at night, rummaging on his thoughts, every calming technique he knew unable to stop his mind from thinking about her. For the first time in hundreds of years, someone succeeded in distracting him from walking the ever-changing paths of the Fade.

He turned on his side to stare at the door, punching his pillow to fluff it, as if that was the reason for his wandering mind. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in through his nose, in an attempt to focus. Instantly the memory of their last heated kiss came to his mind, and he groaned as heat travelled down towards his pelvis. He didn't deserve her, he didn't deserve her love or her acceptance. He should turned his back on her, but the thought of losing her, the idea of another one tasting her lips and curling their fingers into her fire like locks brought a heaviness in his stomach.

A faint knock on the door brought him back to the present, and he opened his eyes, unsure if he indeed heard it. He waited for a voice to follow it and call for him, but no sounds reached his ears after almost a minute. He closed his eyes again, ready to accept the Fade's embrace, when another knock, followed by the sound of shuffling feet interrupted him again.

This time, confident he heard someone knocking at his door, he rose from the bed, grabbing the robe resting on the back of the chair, to cover his bare torso, wrapping the sash around his abdomen.

When he opened the door, no one stood in front of it, but he spotted a petite silhouette turning around the corner. He followed it, his footsteps quiet. Soon, the red locks bouncing on the woman's shoulders gave away the silhouette's identity.

"Vhenan?"

"Solas!" she gasped, spinning on her heels to face him. "You're up!"

He hurried his pace to erase the distance between them, the smile on his face creating little wrinkles around his eyes and grooves in his cheeks. "Yes, I am. But why are you awake at this hour? Nightmares?" he slipped a hand around her waist to pull her close and kissed her head. Heat radiated through his chest as she softly giggled at his touch.

"No, couldn't sleep, so I decided to walk around for a while."

He hummed, cocking an eyebrow at her. He knew his love roamed the halls of the castle at night, but something in her cheeky smile made him suspicious of that answer "Is that so? And where are you heading?"

"Well," she started, placing one hand on his chest, raising her chin to look at his face. "Do you know Josephine will meet with a few Orlesian nobles in the morning? The type of people who keep their noses crinkled like they smell shit everywhere?"

"Yes," he patiently answered, tilting his head to the side. He took a step back, his hands living her body.

"And she asked Marin to bake sweets for them. But, the last time he did that, the Orlesians refused to eat it."

"Oh, is that so?"

She nodded. "Yeah, he told me the next day, when I went to grab some food from the kitchen. He ranted about how the Orlesians can't appreciate the skills of a Ferelden baker. After that, he mopped around for days, doubting his skills."

"Too bad. His sweets are delicious."

"Exactly. And I'm sure tomorrow they will refuse to eat Marin's sweets again, and he'll end up upset for another week. I have a plan to stop that."

"A plan?" he repeated, leaning forward to examine her face. She had excellent plans at day, but at night, her ideas transformed into various shenanigans, like stealing food from the kitchen and having a late dinner in the courtyard, under the ancient oak tree. The cooks of Skyhold learned how to hide the food they cooked for the next day before the Inquisitor's nose caught a whiff of it and devoured it at night.

"Yes. I'm going to eat everything he baked for them."

Solas caught a glimpse of pride shining in her eyes as she announced her plan. He bit down on his lip to contain a laugh. "What? Why? How would that help the poor man?"

"When he finds out that the Inquisitor snuck out at night to eat his sweets, he will be annoyed but also happy because the word will spread. And everyone will know how I, the most important person in this hold, ate his food like a glutton," a knowing grin grew on her face, a grin that was too infectious to fight.

In moments like this, when she uttered her plans with unshakable confidence, her shoulders back and chin raised high, he realised why every single soul in the Inquisition followed her without doubting her. Right now, if she decreed she planned to move the mountains, he would believe her instantly. But the idea of making a man feel better by devouring his food brought a smile on his face and reminded him how strange she could sometimes be.

"Oh, the brave Inquisitor, always sacrificing herself for the wellbeing of her subjects." he jested, offering her a bemused smile.

"But of course! C'mon, let's go, we still have a few hours until the cook's apprentice will wake up to heat the ovens."

She walked away from him a few meters, but she stopped as Solas didn't follow her.

"Are you coming?" she asked, holding out her hand for him to take it.

"Is that the reason why you knocked at my door?"

"Yes, I want to share them with you. I like to eat, but I doubt I'll be able to eat the sweets made for four people."

"Vhenan, you know I prefer not to eat at night."

She huffed, rolling her eyes at him. "A late dinner won't kill you," she muttered, shaking her head. "Oh, c'mon Solas, it's going to be fun. Take my hand and join me in this quest of keeping sadness away from my dear subjects!"

With her hand outstretched for him to grab it, and a serious frown knitting her eyebrows, Solas couldn't say no to her. He took her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers to walk by her side on their way to the kitchen.

The hallways were empty, their soft steps resounding in the silence. The majority of the people inhabiting Skyhold slept soundly, a few snores and grumbles reaching Solas' ears. From time to time, he could hear giggles coming from some rooms, and he hurried his step, eager to respect the privacy of those behind the doors.

The wall sconces held large touches to illuminate their way, and, in combination with their Elvhen sight, they could clearly see the path ahead of them. The flames cast long shadows on the floors, and sometimes, their light touched Elluin's face, colouring her pale, freckled kissed skin a soft orange. He found himself staring at her as they walked, his mouth drying and his throat growing thick. An impervious need to touch her, to push her against the wall and kiss her until she moaned with pleasure took over him, clouding his mind. He took a deep breath to steady himself, annoyed she broke his indomitable focus without actually doing anything. He fixed his gaze on the floor, counting backwards from one hundred to calm himself, refusing to take another look at her.

After a few more minutes of walking in silence, they reached the kitchen, one of the three kitchens in Skyhold. The smell of cinnamon and yeast tickled his nose as Elluin slowly opened the door, carefully not to announce their presence. He followed her, closing the door behind him with a low thud.

Inside, the three, tall working tables stood spotless, with no trace of flour or dough to stain their surface. The measuring cups were lined up on the tabletop, small soldiers waiting for orders. He could see the pans, plates and brushes through the cupboards display, their doors locked. He frowned, staring at the small locks, wondering why the baker decided to lock his tools so diligently.

A clay oven with a thick iron door, large enough for a person to climb inside, stood in a corner along the wall. A long flue reached outside through the wall, specially built by the baker to avoid any fumes escaping in the room. Solas admired the man's ingenuity and his ability to keep everyone safe without the usage of magic. He spent a few fascinating hours speaking with him, learning more about the art of creating functionally clay ovens.

"Well, this is weird," Elluin commented, scratching her cheek. "I can't see any tray with sweets."

He snorted. "I believe the Master Baker hid his creations from you. The man learned his lesson."

She rolled up her sleeves, revealing her toned arms. "Like that's going to stop me."

She approached one of the locked cabinets and grabbed a lockpick from her pocket, jamming it into the lock, twisting it a few times. "Let's see if Varric's lock-picking lessons will help me."

As Elluin struggled with the lock, he studied the room, one finger gently tapping his lips, his eyes analysing the potential hiding spots. He realised a man as bright as Marin would know better than to hide his food in locked cupboards. No, that was a trick, an ingenious method to keep the intruder busy until one of the kitchen workers heard the noise and came to stop them. It had to be somewhere in plain sight, a location no one would think about.

"The oven," he muttered, snapping his fingers. "Elluin," he spoke out, a faint trace of excitement in his voice. "The oven, he hid them in the oven. That door is closed to hide the tray from our view."

"The oven?" she made her way towards the oven, narrowing her eyes. "Why would he hide it there? There's ash everywhere!"

"Good question. Let us see."

The iron door made no sound as he pulled it opened, a testament of the cook's care. A faint magical barrier buzzed around the brass tray inside it, protecting the brownies from any ash or unburned charcoal.

"Magic!" she laughed, slapping the back of her thigh. " I can't believe this. He asked a mage to cast a barrier on his brownies."

"Indeed." He gave her a satisfied smile and crossed his arms, content he uncovered the cook's plans.

Elluin licked her lips as she waved her hands to cancel the spell. She reached for the tray and gulped down with gluttony, her mouth watering at the chocolate covering the brownies. She grabbed one, the tray dangerously balanced in her left hand, and bit it. A moan escaped her lips as the chocolate poured from inside it. Solas eyed her, the sound leaving her mouth causing his fingers to twitch as if pushing him to touch her.

"Vhenan," he intervened, taking the tray from her and setting it on the table. "How do you plan to eat twelve pieces of chocolate filled cake without getting sick?"

"That's why I asked you to come here with me, I need your help." she gulped down the food, hitting her chest with her fist as it refused to go down. "Those bastards don't deserve all this chocolate. It's been years since I tasted it, not gonna let it go to waste," she bit down on another, humming with pleasure and licking her fingers. "Take one, you're going to love it."

He gingerly took a piece from the trail, admiring the perfectly spread layer of chocolate, the soft texture reminding him of satin. He smelled it, the hint of vanilla tempting him to take a bite. The chocolate melted in his mouth, wrapping his tongue in a thick layer of pure pleasure. He closed his eyes, and a sigh of satisfaction escaped his throat.

"Delicious, isn't it?" Elluin remarked, smirking at him. "I knew you'd love it."

He opened his eyes and offered her a small smile. "You were right."

She winked at him and grabbed another piece, shoving half of it in her mouth. He laughed and shook his head at her, worried for the integrity of her jaw. He watched as she devoured three more brownies, baffled by her ability to swallow the food barely chewed.

A feeling of weightlessness cloaked his soul as she beamed with happiness, her cheeks rosy with delight. Her joy was contagious, and he smiled at her, grateful she chose to spend this moment with him. She picked him over the hundreds of people around her, over the men and women who craved for her love. She offered her heart and joy to him, a man who hid the truth, a man who had no right to receive this pure, untainted happiness. His shoulders dropped, and he averted his eyes from her smile.

She came closer to him, her fingers reaching for his chin, gently encouraging him to face her again. "You're doing that again," she whispered, her breath tickling his skin. "Getting lost inside your head. Don't. Stay here with me."

His gaze still avoided her face. "I apologise. My thoughts distracted me from the present."

"Is that so?" she murmured." I know the perfect way to keep you here."

Before he had a chance to ask more about it, Elluin grabbed the collar of his robe, pulling him down towards her to meet her chocolate cover lips. His lips instantly parted, as her tongue darted out to lick them, eager to explore his mouth. His muscles relaxed, hands resting lazily on her butt. She was right, he thought as his fingers curled into her hair, gently tugging it. When she kissed him, nothing mattered anymore, just the taste of her lips and the faint scent of lily of the valley coming from her hair.

Her hand moved to the nape of his neck, slipping under his robe. The touch of her skin against his sent a shiver of pleasure down his spine, and he moaned, raw and insatiable lust replacing any thought. He pushed her against the table, and her knees gave out, her butt hitting the tabletop. She wrapped her legs and hands around him, as if afraid he will pull away.

He wanted her. Right here and right now. He wanted to taste her skin, to follow the path of her freckles with his lips, from the top of her forehead to her toes. To make her sing as his tongue played with her folds, to finally taste her. He wished for nothing more than his nighttime fantasies to transform into reality. And right now, he couldn't care less they were in a kitchen, where anyone could find them.

A low growl left his throat as a part of his mind screamed at him, yelled at him to stop this foolishness, to remember his real purpose, his identity. He had no right to taste her body when he gave her only half-truths. He was wrong to take her fully when he hid parts of him. She deserved more than this, more than a man who was too afraid to speak the truth.

With a draining effort, he broke the kiss, gently pushing her away from him. She whimpered as his body left hers and she opened her eyes, arousal and confusion blending in her gaze.

He shook her head when her hands reached for him again. "No. This is not right."

Before Elluin could answer, the door opened with a loud bang, and a woman entered the room, waving a cooking paddle and shouting at them. "How many times do I have to kick you out, you thieves, this isn't the place for…." she stopped in her tracks, eyes widening with shock as she noticed the two of them.

"Your Grace! And you!" she frowned at Solas, confused by his presence. He could see it on her face how the pieces clicked together in her mind, her eyebrows shooting up. "I'm sorry Herald, I had no idea you two--," she stammered, a faint blush dusting her cheeks. "I have to warm the oven, but I'll come later," she left in a hurry, barely giving them another glance.

Solas sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, his hopes for keeping the matters of their relationship private, shattered.

"Well, this was bound to happen sooner or later," Elluin nonchalantly explained, getting off from the table and reaching for another brownie. "Until morning, every single person in Skyhold will think the Inquisitor had sex with the weird elf in the kitchen."

"Venan, I," he started, but she interrupted him with a wave of his hand.

"Don't apologise. You told me months ago you aren't ready and now you weren't ready yet. I get it," she shrugged, shoving the cake in her mouth, slowly chewing it.

Solas stared at his toes, cursing his mind for not stopping him faster.

"But I did enjoy our intense make-out session," she giggled and winked at him as he raised his head to look at her.

"C'mon, we still have a few of those. Let's be fast before that lady comes back and finds us here again. "

He watched her, eyes widen, once again awestruck by her kindness. Why? Why did she accept his explanations so easily? He had no idea, but he knew one thing: this fantastic, mysterious, infuriating woman would be his undoing. And he gladly accepted it because her love tasted like chocolate and brownies.

#14dalovers #solavellan #take my hand #midnight rendezvous #solas #lavellan #elluin lavellan #dragon age #dragon age fanfiction #noire writes

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jadoue1999 · 3 years

Text

Wanda and the life she deserved (she’ll make sure of it) Chapter 9

Summary: This chapter is about Monica and why she wants to help Wanda so much. It also follows the post credit scene of episode 7 and a little of the finale.

Previous part: chapter 1, chapter 2 , chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, chapter 8, chapter 9, chapter 10, chapter 11, epilogue

Chapter 9: Rambeau

Ever since her talk with Wanda, Monica was even more determined to help the woman. She had had her own painful experience after finding out her mother had lived two more years, only for her cancer to come back. It had taken her multiple days to really accept that she could have had more time with her, had the blip not happened. Also, adjusting to a universe that was five years ahead of her had been a challenge. Everything was different, not only culturally or technologically, but even in spots she had thought untouchable. Her favorite shop her and her mom used to go to escape the everyday stress of life was now gone. The owners were blipped, they had come back to find an empty lot that once contained their whole life. Monica, not one to dwell too much, decided that it would be better to move. Her apartment only served as a reminder that her mother truly was gone. Maria had probably wandered the same walls trying to convince herself that her daughter would come back only to succumb without finding out she was right all along. So, she had changed town, one closer to S.W.O.R.D. headquarters, that way, she could concentrate on more assignments. She had tried going to therapy, the world had offered counseling for those who came back. Monica had found it unfortunate that no one seemed to consider that some needed more than just talking out their feelings. As much as she understood why they limited their service to this, the entire world was grieving after all, she just wished there were more options.

She had instead focused on getting herself back together and forming a new world for herself. She had tried socializing, but every conversation eventually ended up talking about lost opportunities and the grief people or their loved one had endured. She bought books of the latest invention and discovery, trying to understand the world who moved on without her. She had eventually settled her finances with the bank, her position at S.W.O.R.D. gave her priority over the everyday citizens. She was part of the lucky ones, her mother’s hope had kept her from claiming her life insurance, which made things a lot easier since she didn’t have to restart her life with a debt. While she wasn’t at peace with what happened to her mother, she decided to come back to her work. She couldn’t take the days alone, being assaulted by advertisements about fake opportunities offered by scam artists looking to make quick money on the web.

So, after three weeks of trying to adjust in a grieving world, she was back at S.W.O.R.D. headquarters. She was then assigned to the Westview anomaly which opened a whole new world of weird. Being mind controlled by Wanda had been one of the strangest things she had ever experienced. She was expected to hate her once she had been pulled out; but she couldn’t bring herself to. The avenger wasn’t doing this out of hate, but out of grief. She had felt her pain, one that was so similar to her own. The whole experience only made her more certain of her future: she had to help Wanda Maximoff.

...

That’s why even after being clearly shown that Wanda didn’t want her help, she decided to stick around. Agnes was definitely suspicious; she knew Wanda was grieving and seemed to want to keep it that way. Luckily, Wanda’s brother had intervened. That was another thing, who was he? He wasn’t on the resident board and he definitely wasn’t the real Pietro; she had seen the footage of Ultron. They didn’t even look similar. Yet Wanda seemed determined to keep him at her side and he seemed convinced that they truly were twins. She felt for the man, the mind control of the town definitely wasn’t a pleasant experience.

There were whispers of newcomers on the base the same day she, Jimmy and Darcy had been kicked out. She didn’t have time to learn much, but Hayward didn’t like them. Then again, he didn’t like most people that wasn’t directly on his team or that obeyed him without questions. Still, their arrival had ruffled some feathers, the identification process was made even more of a priority. She guessed that they were part of the many agencies that dealt with insurance and were trying to prepare for the storm of paperwork coming after the Hex would be brought down. As far as she knew, the counseling offered only covered the effect of the blip, not the after effect of being mind controlled by a grieving avenger.

After being pushed away, Monica wasn’t sure where to go. She walked around aimlessly; last time she was in town it was the 70s. Now, the advertisements were different, and everyone were dressed in the 2010s. She had to admit how impressive it was that Wanda was able to rewrite reality like that. She saw Herb, or John Collins, according to the citizen chart. He was watering his backyard and taking care of his garden, something he’d been a fan of even when she was part of the town. She didn’t see many other of the ‘main cast’, but she did see a few couples. Still no children, like Vision had pointed out on the last episode she saw on the base. The Halloween one didn’t count since she missed most of it trying to hide on her own base. After about half an hour, she decided that Wanda had probably calmed down. She had to talk to her again, she had begun to form a connection, she knew she could make Wanda see reason. She walked over to her house, but soon realized that nobody was there. Instead of going after her, she decided to investigate Agnes’ house. She looked through the windows, but not much was happening. The TV was on, but no one was watching it. She went in the back, perhaps she could find clues there. After watching through the windows and still not finding anything, she spotted a cellar.

She walked over and examined the door before opening it. She found what looked like vines that escalated the walls. She could see them glowing a deep purple, probably had something to do with her newfound powers. They seemed to give her the ability to see energy field that surrounded her. She was about to step inside when she felt a sudden gush of air.

“Snoopers gonna snoop,” came a voice next to her.

She gasped as she took in the person. It was the man who was cast at Pietro, only, he seemed off. Like he was doing something he didn’t want to. Before she could ask him anything, he grabbed her arm and the back of her neck. In a blur, they were in the house. Nausea suddenly hit, she grabbed onto a nearby table to stabilize herself.

“Give it a few minutes, it’ll pass,” reassured the man. “Happens with everyone.”

“W-who are you?” She asked once her head had stopped spinning.

“I’m Pietro, I thought you knew that?” She stared at him; something was strange about him. He seemed so kind, why would he help Agnes?

“That’s not what I mean,” she started. “It might be hard, but the mind control usually let you access a few memories of your true identity. You just need to concentrate.”

The man looked at her with a confused look. Seeing that she wasn’t getting anywhere, she tried running out of the room, but he stopped her only a few steps away from the window. He put a hand in front of him, with one finger, she was catapulted back onto the couch. The force of the impact knocked the breath out of her.

The man looked at Monica, “I’m sorry, I can’t let you out of here. T-the witch, whatever she is, she has my nephews. I have to keep you here or they get hurt.”

She smiled at his comment, relieved he wasn’t just another villain. “You truly care about them, don’t you?”

The man turned to look outside the empty street before answering, “of course, they’re family.”

“You truly can’t remember?” Monica looked at Pietro, who once again looked confused at her questions. “Nothing here is real, Wanda is giving everyone fake identity, giving them roles to fill. You’re no different.”

“What? Of course not, Wanda’s not like that.”

“Please, think about your life before Westview. Pietro Maximoff died; how can you be here if you were killed?”

“I-I,” He stammered. His confusion was a good sign, he was starting to wake up. He looked at her once again. “Look, I know my sister, she wouldn’t-“

Suddenly, his necklace glowed a scarlet red and his eyes glazed over. He looked disoriented for a second before shaking his head. “I’m sorry, I can’t let you out, my family’s lives are on the line.”

Monica didn’t react to what he said, she was all too focused on the necklace. What was it? It seemed to be controlling him, but what could the jewelry piece do that the Hex couldn’t?

She reached for it but stopped as the man backed off. Realizing how rude she was being, she cleared her throat, “may I?” Hesitantly, the man nodded yes. As she was about to touch it, it glowed red and sent a burning sensation through her hand. She gasped and put her hand in a fist, “I’m sorry, I can’t remove it. Do you remember when you got it?”

He seemed lost in thoughts for a moment before shaking his head, “I’ve just always had it.”

Monica had more questions but screams in the street made them both turn towards the window. Agnes was somehow floating in the air, holding both of the boys with a magical rope. She saw Pietro disappear, only to reappear a second later.

“I can’t get out, there’s a sort of barrier keeping me from leaving.”

She quickly got down the stairs, she was surprised he let her go, considering that his nephews’ life was on the line. She supposed the real threat compared to possible one was a good enough reason. She opened the front door, only to come crashing into a purple barrier. She put her hands on it, it felt strange, it was like... an energy field. She knew she could get rid of it, but she didn’t know how.

“So,” said Pietro, appearing beside her, “how to we get out? Considering we can’t even see the barrier.”

She pushed against it once again, the magic bending to the force but not letting them pass. “I can see it, but I don’t know how to break it.”

They both contemplated their options, but they couldn’t think of many. That is, until Pietro spoke up. “What... what if you synced your powers with the frequency of the barrier?” His eyes seemed slightly foggy, like he was remembering something from long ago. “You keep your hands there, and you concentrate as much as you can. You can match the strength, and slowly increase it until it becomes too much, and it breaks.”

She did as he told her, feeling her way through. Her fingers began to slightly vibrate, increasingly speeding up as her fingertips began to glow blue. After a few seconds, the barrier shattered, and they were free to go. She turned to the man, both surprised and excited that it had worked. “How did you know that would work?”

The man shrugged, “I think I did it once... on glass? Not sure but I definitely remember using this technique.”

She nodded and they ran to Wanda, Agnes, and the twins. The final battle was ready to begin.

...

Notes: So, we are close to the end! I promise that we will be back to Wanda's point of view after this one, I simply thought more context on Monica couldn't hurt. Also, she doesn't remove the necklace, I figured that if someone had to remove it, in the context of my story at least, it has to be Wanda. Props to those who understood the days of future past reference! Thanks for reading, reviews are appreciated!

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bigballofstress · 4 years

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To Share an Armchair (Tom Holland x Actress!Reader)

Description: You and Tom appear on Conan to promote your new movie together, Spider-Man: Homecoming. Little do you know, Tom has a bit more planned than your usual run-of-the-mill interview.

Prequel to The Interview

I took a deep, nervous breath, my hands wringing together as I looked out into the absolutely packed audience.

“You’ll be fine,” a warm, comforting presence appeared behind me. I turned quickly to see my best friend, Tom, smiling down at me. “They love you, and you love them.”

I smiled a bit. He always seemed to know just what to say to make me feel better.

Tom and I had been working together since the filming of Captain America: Civil War, where I’d played another of Tony’s young recruits. Now, with the new Spider-Man movie coming out, we were sent to advertise the release. So, there we stood, on the set of Conan, ready give yet another interview. Except, this time, we’d be promoting the movie by ourselves. “I’m just not very used to going out there without an older cast member or producer or something,” I sighed.

“Just be your usual funny, witty, charming self, and I promise you that everything will turn out well,” Tom reassured me.

I nodded firmly in an effort to strengthen my resolve. “Thanks, Tom.”

“Anytime, sweetcheeks,” he grinned. I rolled my eyes playfully at the cheesy nickname that he had taken to calling me ever since our second week of filming, claiming that my ‘cheeks were too sweet to be called anything else.’

“And now, please welcome Tom Holland and (Y/N) (L/N) to the stage!” Conan shouted. Tom walked out, and I quickly followed. The lights were practically blinding, and my ears were ringing from the very, very loud cheers. I shook off my fears and muscled my way past the almost overwhelming scene to grin and wave with both hands to the audience before moving to take my seat.

The only armchair available was already occupied by a certain web slinger. I pouted and crossed my arms. “I was going to sit there!”

“Well, I’m already here. Sorry, sweetcheeks,” Tom smirked up at me, settling further into the very comfortable looking chair.

I frowned. “Aw, c’mon, Tommy! Pleeeease?” I tilted my chin down and sent him my best puppy dogs.

Tom shook his head. “Hey, you can sit anywhere you want, but I’m not moving.”

My lips immediately quirked upwards. “Ok!” I quickly responded before plopping myself down sideways across Tom’s lap with my legs hanging over the other armrest. His hands reflexively went to my waist in an effort to stabilize me. Tom stared at me in shock, and I just grinned back triumphantly.

I turned to look at Conan, who was watching the whole ordeal go down with an amused smile. “Hi, Conan,” I grinned.

The tall man chuckled. “Hi, (Y/N).”

I had to flip my head upside down to look at Andy, as the armrest that my back was leaning against was the one facing him. “Nothing personal, I just really wanted the chair.”

Andy scoffed in fake hurt. “Yeah, sure. Just pretend you’re not repulsed by me.”

“Well, I am a pretty good actress,” I shrugged, pretending to think it over.

Conan barked out a laugh, and I grinned, straightening back up and settling further into Tom’s lap. “So I guess (ship name) is real?” Conan chuckled, wiggling his eyebrows.

My face went bright red, and I scoffed. “Yeah, just about as real as Candy,” I bit back in an attempt to misdirect from my extreme embarrassment.

Conan laughed his big belly laugh again. “No, (Y/N)’s just unbelievably stubborn is all,” Tom added with a slight shake of his head.

“I’ve heard a few rumors, though, about the two of you,” Conan continued. “A lot of people are talking about a recent incident involving gymnastics?”

I groaned and hid my face in Tom’s chest. “Yeah, she was just so graceful,” Tom chuckled.

I hit his arm with a pout. “Oh, shut up. It really hurt, ok?”

Tom grinned and turned to Conan. “You see, we’ve had a wager going on for quite a while over who was the better actor. So, when we got off set early one day, we decided to prove it once and for all. We each invented a character for the other to play. I was supposed to be a foul-tempered, incredibly avid fan of some sort of predatory bird--”

“The eagles, Tom,” I rolled my eyes. “You were playing a fan of the Philadelphia Eagles. Anyways, Tommy here had decided to make me a world class gymnast. You know, because I’m so experienced.”

“Whoever was revealed to be lying about their identity first would lose the bet,” Tom continued. “And he or she would have to do one thing the other asked, no matter what it was.”

“It didn’t go very well,” I sighed, cringing slightly at the memory. “And I still maintain that I won, by the way!”

Tom shook his head. “Not a chance, sweetcheeks. You see, we were talking to a wonderful young lady on the street when I noticed (Y/N) getting a bit excited. Turns out, she’d noticed a Philadelphia sticker on the woman’s bag. So she started raving about how much I loved the Eagles and all of the Philadelphia teams. Naturally, I began talking of her supposed experience in gymnastics. The woman was rather impressed and asked if she could see her do a flip.”

“Meanwhile, I can’t do any sort of gymnastics to save my life,” I scoffed. “So instead of flipping, I asked Tom what sport the Eagles play.” The audience laughed a bit. “He couldn’t respond, and voila! I win!”

“Not quite,” Tom chuckled. “That woman didn’t say a word until you tried to do a flip and landed directly on your bum. She caught you first, pointing out that you weren’t a gymnast. Only afterwards did she say I had no idea where Philadelphia even was.”

I frowned. “Yeah, but she knew you were faking it first.”

“Those weren’t the rules, sweetcheeks,” Tom grinned. I rolled my eyes.

I’d barely taken notice of the loud laughter until Conan spoke up again between chuckles. “Here’s a clip from the new Spider-Man: Homecoming in theaters July 7, check it out!”

While the clip played, Tom grinned and poked me in the side. “You know, I still get to ask you that favor.”

“Fine, I concede. What do you want, Holland?” I rolled my eyes again.

“You’ll see in just a moment,” he answered, wiggling his eyebrows at me.

I snorted softly in an attempt not to laugh over the preview being played. “What the heck was that?”

“I was being mysterious!” He defended.

“You looked like you’d lost all control over your facial muscles,” I smirked.

Tom frowned, but before he could reply, the lights came back on. So instead, he turned to look at our host. “Conan, before we go, can I ask a favor?”

Conan nodded. Tom gently picked me up while he stood, placing me back in the seat. He walked towards the edge of the stage. I leaned over to Andy. “Do you have any idea what’s going on?” I stage whispered.

“Yeah, but I’m not telling you. You didn’t want to sit next to me,” Andy responded with a humph, crossing his arms. I laughed at his antics.

Tom had returned by that point. In his arms was the most adorable little creature I’d ever seen in my entire life. “This is Firestar,” he said, holding up the absolutely precious chocolate lab puppy. “She’s incredibly stubborn, so I thought you two might get along.”

“Tom, I can’t believe you!” I squealed, accepting the puppy without hesitation. She immediately started trying to lick my face.

“Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to call in that favor you owe me.” I glanced up at him suspiciously. Tom just smiled. “Go with me to the premier? As my date?” Tom stood before me nervously, his cheeks bright red, while he anticipated my answer.

My eyes widened, and my breath caught in my throat. I couldn’t believe he’d actually just asked me out. Of course I had fantasized about this, but I never actually thought it would happen.

“Say yes!” I random shout from somewhere in the crowd startled me out of my trance.

My face broke out into a huge grin, and I nodded quickly. “Of course I’ll go with you, you big dummy!” I said, hiding my immense excitement behind the small joke.

Tom’s nervousness melted into happiness, and he rushed forward to hug me, taking care not to crush the puppy between us.

“Tom Holland and (Y/N) (L/N), everybody!” Conan shouted above the cheers. “Now officially (ship name)!” The cheers and screams got even louder, and I laughed, almost having to cover my ears. We were both soon ushered off the stage to make way for whoever was next to appear on the show.

When we finally had a minute to breath, I turned to Tom. “I can’t believe you got me a puppy,” I laughed. My smiled was still plastered to my face, and I had a feeling it wasn’t going away anytime soon.

“Everyone gets flowers,” Tom shrugged. I laughed and shook my head. “So there is one other thing I need to know before we can go on a date.”

My brow furrowed slightly, and my smile wavered. “What is it?” I asked warily.

“What color is your dress? I have to know what I’m matching my tie to.”

I pursed my lips in pretend anger, despite the smile that still managed to peak through. “You jerk, you really had my scared!” I hit his arm.

“Ow!” Tom complained. He grabbed my hand as it was gearing up to hit him again and pulled me into another hug, still softly chuckling my hair. I grinned and cradled my new puppy to my chest, who’d already fallen asleep after all the excitement. I was going to go on a date with Tom Holland. Maybe I’ll even get to be his girlfriend!

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland reader insert #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #avengers cast x reader #avengers cast #avengers cast reader insert #avengers cast imagine #avengers cast x you #avengers cast x y/n

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shuuenmei · 3 years

Text

perfect world

TWST OC Week Day 5: Unique Magic

BEFORE WE BEGIN:

This contains some hints to how I plan for Scarabia to run, if you don’t mind that, feel free to read!

And... here we go!

August 15, Kasper (9 years old)

It was a normal day.

Or it was supposed to be for Kasper.

There stood his cousin, Salem, whose dagger is held close at his neck, the blade nearly piercing his skin.

“If you weren’t the son of your father, mother would have been happy with me and acknowledged me.”

Deep down, Kasper knew.

After his parents died on the way back from a trip, the Latifi family is in disarray.

Every one of his aunts and uncles discuss who should be the one to inherit the Latifi merchant family and lead them.

All behind closed doors.

Yet, Kasper chose to ignore it.

He doesn’t want to think of the idea of people in his family being willing to turn against each other.

Especially with his siblings and cousins.

Salem had been his favorite cousin.

Always together and always with him.

He trusts and loves Salem the most among his relatives.

But here he was, trying to murder him because of those discussions that their relatives had.

He can only stare at Salem hovering above him, dagger held on his neck.

His eyes wide with fear.

Why, brother?

He doesn’t want this.

He doesn’t want this to be what bond with Salem would become.

No, no, no.

Not like this-

________________________________________________________________

His eldest cousin, Izzet, brought him to his grand-aunt’s home.

Away from his home.

Izzet told him that he fought off against an assassination from someone who has it out for the family and told him he’s going to live with his grand-aunt from now on for his safety.

He takes that explanation easily.

He isn’t too fond of Izzet, he finds him too naggy. And he hates it when Izzet keeps telling him to not spend too much time with Salem.

But he knows that Izzet cares, so he listens. Just for a little.

He doesn’t know why Salem wasn’t there to see him off. Kasper hoped that Salem would at least be there to see him.

________________________________________________________________

December 21, Kasper (17 years old)

Kasper stood still.

Unable to let out a voice or move as he hid under one of the tables just a good distance away from Kalim and Jamil.

“You are to continue acting as the tyrannical dorm leader who forces the students against their own limits.”

“Yes… It’s as Jamil says.”

They soon walked through the hall, headed for the lounge.

Kasper had been sneaking himself in the kitchen to steal some more bites of food for himself but hid himself when he heard footsteps.

He was about to let himself relax when he heard that it’s Kalim and Jamil… until his ears caught onto an unmistakable chant from Jamil as he cast his Unique Magic on Kalim.

Once he’s sure that Jamil and Kalim are gone, he gets out of his hiding place, trembling.

That… that can’t be right.

Jamil was supposed to be the helpful, supporting but humble vice dorm head. Right?

He knows Kalim for so long he wouldn’t have dared to hypnotize Kalim to be acting against his will, right?

That… that’s…

Was… Was Yuu right about how suspicious Kalim’s sudden change was?

Kasper winced, feeling his head splitting in half-

“This is for mother, nothing against you Kasper.”

“No no no-”

“There you are Kasper! Did you sneak some of Jamil-senpai’s cooking again?”

He was brought out of his thoughts when he heard his roommate call for him.

He turned to his roommate and shook his head.

“Nope, didn’t get to sneak some bite. Dinner is soon, right?”

He remembered now.

The day he learned that Salem never truly returned his sentiment of being his brother in arms.

________________________________________________________________

He lets himself become a sobbing mess when he finally could talk to Yuu again face to face since she got to Scarabia.

He can take it no longer.

He could have spoken out.

Told others that this isn’t really Kalim speaking when he started to act like Riddle at the start of the year.

But he can’t.

Fear held him back, and he was equally filled with guilt at how he dismissed Yuu’s suspicions and concerns when she heard of Kalim’s sudden change from him.

Now that the remaining three Octavinelle students arrived unexpectedly, he took his chance to finally see Yuu again and talk.

He doesn’t really care that the dorm head and vice head of Octavinelle are here, or the fact that the stupid cat will make fun of him, he just wanted to see his friend as he confessed what he had been bottling up over the past few days.

Of how he once again had to see someone he cared turn against him and didn’t return his sentiment of care.

Of how he is unsure of how to speak with Yuu again now that her suspicion had turned out true.

Of how he’s afraid Jamil will go after him and hypnotize him as well, just like what he did to Kalim right now, if he spoke the truth.

“I just don’t know what to do! I wanna scream when everybody here starts to believe in Jamil but I can’t!” He sobbed.

All of this, while he felt Yuu patting his back, with the gremlin cat patting him on his leg.

“This is… certainly not how I envision to learn the truth of who is the mastermind behind Kalim-san’s sudden bout of tyranny.” Jade spoke up.

“But even so,” Azul spoke after him, adjusting his glasses. “It’s now clear that Jamil-san is behind this, possibly as an attempt to overthrow Kalim-san as Dorm Leader.”

“You know…Just wondering...” Floyd trailed. “Why is Umihebi-kun acting out now after all this time? If he’s got something against Rakko-chan, Rakko-chan would be willing to hear out, wouldn’t he?”

“I suppose that’s for all of us to know and find out, Floyd.”

“Still, I have a plan in mind on how to catch Jamil-san on his act.” Azul raised his hand. “For this plan, the first thing we must do is…”

________________________________________________________________

He remembers how he was able to survive against Salem now.

He turned to see his hypnotized dorm-mates as Yuu and the others dealt with an overblotted Jamil.

He had forgotten the memory, unable to accept the reality that Salem never returned the sentiment of seeing him as family.

But he wasn’t that 9 year old Kasper who tried so hard to believe that everything is still fine after his father and mother died to a point he refused to believe that any of his family members would turn their backs on him.

He wasn’t the child who blocked off reality anymore.

Never again.

“A castle of gold high above the land and water, a stage is fully set just for me.”

His magical pen glowed.

“Follow My Groove!”

The blank red eyes on a group of students are gone, the hypnosis lifted.

“Wha- Kasper? What did you-”

“No time to talk! We need some help dealing with Jamil here!”

________________________________________________________________

January 9, Kasper (17 years old)

“Still, Kassy actually having a Unique Magic all along is surprising.” Mel noted.

“And now you and Jack are the ones among us all to get a Unique Magic before all of us!” Grim exclaimed.

“Yeah, yeah, you say that but it’s not like Kasper can help it.” Yuu flicked Grim’s forehead as she said so.

“Fnah!?” Grim exclaimed at the impact.

“How does it even work actually?” Jack wondered.

“From how I see it… it’s like something that Ruggie-senpai can do, combined with a mild hypnosis?” Yuu observed, recalling what Kasper did that freed a group of hypnotized students.

“Kinda.” Kasper shrugged. “I mean, I completely forgot when I activated it the first time until that happened in Scarabia. I need some more testing to figure it out.”

“Just try not to run yourself into an overblot.” Lyle warned him.

“Hey! Who do ya think I am!? I’m not that idiotic enough to risk that!”

Ace snickered. “That’s our Kasper alright.”

In spite of it all, Kasper finds himself smiling.

Kasper only ever told Yuu of how he actually discovered his Unique Magic the first time, not anyone else.

Maybe, he’d speak about the Latifi family history to his new friends.

But first…

________________________________________________________________

“Hello Kasper, it’s been a while since your last call when you complained about how you’re forced to stay in the academy because your dorm leader said so.”

“Hey Izzet, can we talk?”

#Twisted Wonderland #black or white (fanfic)#Shuu's fics #Twst OC Week #Twst OC #Yuu (Rei)#Shiina Yuu (black or white)#kalim al asim #jamil viper #azul ashengrotto #jade leech #floyd leech #Of things to come

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agent-cupcake · 4 years

Text

First prize winner @elmentrysworld wanted a Claude x Yuri x Reader story that takes place after my Claude x Reader oneshot Aletheia. I’m splitting it up because my life has been… A lot these days and I wanted to post SOMETHING

I hope you enjoy it regardless?

Claude x Yuri x Reader - Part 1 of 2

This part is sfw, but the next part will not be

News spread throughout the palace like wildfire. Even when it was meant to be kept quiet. No, especially then. Claude had a visitor. Mysterious, foreign, he came without notice and had been quickly hurried out of sight. It was strange to be sure. He hadn’t called for you, but Claude knew as well as you did that you’d find out and come anyway, no invitation needed. That was just the way of things, both of you were too nosy for your own good. The casual way in which you regarded the lapse of propriety once would have shocked you, but now it felt as natural as breathing.

It was his fault. Honesty, transparency, tearing down all the walls that would divide you.

Thinking about that made your chest ache in a hollow, bitter way. You still weren’t entirely sure where you were with him. Things had been unsteady since that night. Or, perhaps, too steady. He was so eager to get everything back to normal. And it worked. Mostly. When you were together, you could readily believe in everything Claude had told you. You could buy into his vision of what you were meant to be, who you were to him. But alone, well. Things were always harder when you were alone. Sometimes something frightening welled up within you. It was not the fear, or the anger, or the helplessness. It was the doubt create by the memory of those things.

You were almost able to ignore it, to cast aside your fractured memory of that night.

But that word was the kicker. Almost.

After being so flush with conviction, to be caught in uncertainty was agonizing.

It was his fault.

You shook that bitter thought from your head with a nearly violent jerk, taking advantage of the dark halls to cover the spastic movement. There were far more important things to focus on than your own personal melodrama. That was the way of it, of everything, wasn’t it?

A mysterious visitor. That would be a good distraction.

The door to Claude’s sitting room was cracked ever so slightly. A trap probably, left open just for you. Or you were reading too far into things. It didn’t matter much, as there was just enough space for you to pause, breath held and ears straining to listen through the narrow opening. There were voices from within, two of them. Male. Unaccented. You hesitated there, unable to make out any of the words, only aware of when they stopped abruptly.

“You can come in, you know,” Claude called from within, his voice raised enough to reach where you hovered. It caused you to start. A deserved surprise, all things considered. “How long were you hiding there?” Claude asked as you stepped past the threshold, not surprised to see that it was you. A trap, then. Or, more charitably —and Claude was so charitable— an invitation.

“I wasn’t hiding,” you told him, although there was a certain unintended edge to the words that made them seem deflective. Claude sat in his usual chair, a big, comfortable throne of seat that was plush enough for him to take up any manner of unusual reading postures. In the chair across from him sat the guest, the second voice you’d been hearing.

Yuri Leclerc, apparently, had decided to visit. Instantly, every defense you were in possession of was thrown forward, your instincts recognizing the man as a threat before your mind could catch up. He was watching you with too-keen eyes and an unreadable expression. Yuri was the type of man that was almost always unreadable. Or smirking. Plotting, planning, not too unlike your king. Only, where Claude thrived in the sun dappled world of politics, Yuri was a shadowy figure in the night. The most formidable criminal player in Fódlan. And here he was, watching you approvingly in the familiar comfort of Claude’s sitting room like he belonged there.

A thousand questions jumped to mind, but you stifled them. That would be rude. After all, Yuri was a friend. Or so Claude said. You smiled. “I was merely trying to think of a good enough excuse so that when I interrupted, it wouldn’t seem so suspicious. Then you would so graciously invite me to join you.”

“And how’d that go?” Claude asked, playing into your game without blinking. “Did you think of one?”

”Oh, sure. I came to tell you about a strange visitor that’s come to the castle.” You looked at Yuri, meeting his eyes for as long as you could bear before looking away. Of all of the people Claude knew from Fódlan, he was the most interesting. And the most dangerous. You resisted the urge to squirm under the scrutiny of his eyes. “Very strange and mysterious. Probably a foreigner. Possibly dangerous.”

Claude laughed. “Right. Well, I’d hate to compromise on security. Would you like to join us?”

“If you insist,” you said, shutting the door fully behind you and taking in a big breath. “It’s been awhile, Yuri.”

“It seems that all of us have been quite busy,” he responded warmly, standing up to greet you. In all the time that had passed, you had forgotten about how pretty Yuri was. Or perhaps it just wasn’t something that you could remember, his image intangible and vague when you weren’t directly exposed to it, like the lingering tendrils of a dream that caught as fleeting fancy in the waking world. In fact, Yuri did possess a strange, elusive dream-like quality. At a glance, anyone could tell that he was most definitely from the west, what with that paper-white skin and light violet hair, his narrow features and that slim build. Considering his reputation, it was nearly paradoxical that he would be so strikingly feminine. But this, too, was a weapon.

You almost would have preferred he show up with a sword in your face. At least you would know how to react to that, would be able to keep a cool head.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again.” Yuri took your hand, pressing a kiss to its back when he bowed. Although you knew this to be a western tradition of introduction —Claude had taught you all manner of western traditions— Yuri’s method was disarming. Far too charming to be authentic, but not slimy enough to read as deceptive.

“You too,” you said, bowing in turn while doing your best to keep from seeming affected by his demeanor. Yuri, just like Claude, was the type of man who enjoyed playing with people. It was, you supposed, apart of his charm. The type of charm that made your teeth clench.

“Yuri and I were just discussing his trip,” Claude said, seemingly oblivious to Yuri’s flirtatious greeting. Or dismissing it as Yuri’s usual antics. Or, no, Claude’s smirk told you that he was fully aware of your flustered reaction and found it entertaining. You pushed down the impulse to scowl at the man. “Apparently, a group of bandits has been making a nuisance of themselves along Fódlan’s Throat.”

“A group of bandits had been making a nuisance of themselves along Fódlan’s Throat,” Yuri corrected, sitting back down gracefully. You followed suit, albeit with far less poise. You didn’t believe yourself to be an awkward person per se, but he could make anyone look like a lumbering oaf by comparison. “When I heard that there was trouble with a group of Almyran merchants coming into Fódlan, I got permission from Holst to gather a group of my best men and follow a shipment coming out of Fódlan into Almyra.” His lip pulled back slightly, a slight expression of disgust. Just a blink later, it had passed, his face composed back into airy calm. “For all the trouble they caused, they were nothing but a lousy group of thugs without a single shred of sense between them. The only reason they’d done as much damage as they had was because of their terrain advantage.”

“And?” Claude prompted dryly. For all of his personal dramatics, he often lacked the patience to indulge anyone else’s.

Yuri smiled, undeterred. “Let’s just say they won’t be bothering anybody else.”

There was no question as to what that meant with that suggestive grin. You didn’t envy the bandits. Then again, you didn’t pity them, either. As far as you were concerned, men like that deserved what they got. For all of the many ways Claude disagreed with you about acts of violence and death, he obviously felt the same. Or maybe it was just okay when Yuri did it.

“I suppose you’ll be wanting a reward for this good deed,” Claude said.

“I couldn’t possibly,” Yuri said with a wave of his hand. “Besides, several merchants have already made their appreciation abundantly clear. Their gratitude is all the reward I need. Besides, it wasn’t entirely unselfish. Bandits hurt my business, too.”

“You have my thanks all the same,” Claude said. “I mean that.”

“Will you be going back to Fódlan soon, then?” you asked. You didn’t meant to sound so eager, but the words came out that way all the same.

“I have business here, actually,” Yuri answered. One of his carefully manicured eyebrows raised. “Why, are you that eager to see me gone?”

Gods, his eyes practically cut through to your soul, twinkling in amusement. “I didn’t mean it like that,” you said, trying to remain steady. “But, you know, having a foreigner hanging around during times like this could be inconvenient. There’s quite a bit of unrest already and your line of work is, well, it could cause issues here.” Not to mention the fact that you still didn’t know if you could trust him and were at least mostly certain that him being here could cause upset in your relationship with Claude. That last thought came out of nowhere, hitting you hard and leaving you breathless. You cast a side eye to Claude, jumping slightly when his gaze met yours. Too perceptive. You looked away.

“I promise not to cause any trouble,” Yuri said, putting on an air of sincerity despite the small smirk he still wore. “Besides, it was quite an ordeal to get here, my men and I need some rest before we can make the trip back. You wouldn’t be so cold as to ask me to put myself or my men at risk, now would you?”

Your eyes narrowed, but you shrugged. “That’s my opinion as an advisor, it has nothing to do with me being cold. In any case, it’s not up to me.” You looked at Claude pointedly. His expression was difficult to read, his fingers resting on his chin as he considered it.

“As long as you agree not to cause any trouble, I welcome you to stay as long as you would like,” Claude finally said to Yuri. “And since you seem so concerned about his presence,” he continued, turning to you, “why don’t you keep an eye on him? I’m sure Yuri could use a guide. Assuming that works for you, Yuri.”

“I have no objections,” he responded, flashing you a brilliant grin. “I look forward to getting to know you even better. Who knows, maybe we can even become friends.” Gods, did he have to say everything like it was a proposition? Even the word “friend” was heavy with implications when it came from his mouth. In spite of yourself, you felt your stomach clench, the fine hairs on the back of your neck standing on end.

“Claude,” you bit out between your teeth. “I’m not sure-”

“Great! Then its settled,” Claude said, cutting you off. “Well, it’s getting late and I am just beat. I’m gonna hit the hay.” He stood, stretching and yawning in an exaggerated way that only he could make look like anything less than a farcically bad performance. “Yuri, you’re more than welcome to take a room in the palace if you can find a maid to prepare one for you. They have a thing about outsiders so it might be somewhat of a hunt, but I’m sure she’d be happy to help.”

“Wait a min-”

“Actually,” Yuri cut you off, standing. “I already have a place in town. Wouldn’t want to be too far from my men in case something goes wrong. I suppose that’s my not so subtle cue to leave.” He paused, his head tilting slightly as he looked at you. “I’m staying at the Silkstone Inn, in case you want to come keep an eye on me. I could use a guide to show me around the city.” He smirked. “I promise to make it worth your while.”

“That’s not necessary,” you said flatly.

“Heh, nevertheless. Goodnight.” Yuri tipped his head towards you. “Claude, it was a pleasure seeing you again. I hope we can catch up while I’m in town.”

“I’m sure I can find some time to entertain you. I’d love to swap secrets, for old times sake.”

“Now that sounds like fun. Until then.” Yuri didn’t wait for an answer, exiting without asking for Claude’s leave, dramatic cape flaring behind him.

Impudent scoundrel.

You stood. “Can we talk, Claude?”.

“Too tired,” Claude said, the words disfigured by another yawn. This one was far less convincing. Your eyes narrowed.

“You pawned me off to be a… A babysitter,” you said. “I had no idea he was going to be here, I didn’t plan for this at all.” You pulled in a large steadying breath, not that it did much to settle you. “Be honest, Claude, is this your way of punishing me?”

“I’m not punishing you,” Claude said, his facade of fatigue fading away as he read your expression, gaze holding yours. His eyes were too sharp, too astute. It made you uncomfortable, a sense of transparency rippling through you like a shiver. All the doubt you’d been secretly harboring was in your eyes. You knew it, and you knew that he did, too. “Truth be told, I didn’t know that Yuri would be coming, either. But… that’s not what you meant, is it?”

“It is,” you told him sharply, disliking that question intensely.

“No, no, this isn’t about Yuri. There’s something that’s been bothering you. After our little conversation the other night, I would have thought you’d be able to open up and tell me what you’re thinking. I can’t read your mind, you know.” Could have fooled you. He sighed, frowning. “You’re upset about something, I can tell that much. Are you… Angry with me? I hoped that it would get better, but it’s not, is it?”

A question. Yes or no. Simple.

Honesty was sweet and vile. Your hands clenched into tight fists and the taste of sugar was thick on your tongue, heat creeping in on the edges of your mind. It all came up, sugary bile in your throat and in your head. You hated yourself for your answer but he had asked you a question and expected the truth.

“I’m not angry with you,” you told him. “That’s the truth, you don’t even need to drug me to hear it. I’m not angry with you. How could I be? After all, you’re my king. My lover. For me, there is nobody else. And I’m-I’m okay with it, I’m not angry with you.” Words that had brewed as a cutting critique of his treatment, that you had meant to use to hurt Claude, ended up lacking any of the rage you had originally intended. That was the nature of the truth, the unpredictability of emotion. Looking into Claude’s eyes, you melted. The feeling wasn’t sweet, or feverish, or synthetic. Honesty was painful. Honesty was crippling. “How could I be angry with you?”

Claude’s expression fell. It might have been your intention in all the time those words had been brewing in your chest but actually seeing his pain nearly broke your heart.

“I’ve been going about this the wrong way, haven’t I?” He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. The silence was long and awkward, your words echoing in your mind, each pass creating a feedback of regret for having spoken in such a way. “Maybe we should take a break from this little scandal of ours. I’ve got the feeling you need some time to think.”

“Think about what?” you asked.

“What you want,” Claude said. At your scandalized expression, he was quick to continue, “I don’t mean give up your position, at least not for now, but we can’t continue on with this hanging over us. I’m asking you to help out a friend while he visits because I don’t trust anyone else to do it. That’s all there is to this.” He waved his hand in a vague gesture. “As to everything else… Please, just think about what it is that you really want. Whatever it is you choose,” he shrugged, “I suppose we’ll go from there.”

“After everything you’ve done,” you said, a block of ice in your stomach, “that’s it?”

“What? Not at all,” Claude said, seemingly surprised by your accusation. “But I can’t force you to feel something if you don’t. The heart wants what it wants, right? Right.” He yawned again, this one far more authentic. He really did look tired. You hadn’t noticed that before. “And right now, my heart wants a good night’s sleep. You should think about getting some, too. You’ve got a big day ahead of you.”

You winced.

“Don’t make that face, everything is gonna work out just fine.” Whether he was talking about Yuri or you or your relationship, you weren’t sure. Maybe all of it, maybe none. Claude kissed your cheek in a shockingly chaste way and didn’t invite you to his bed, even though you were half certain you’d have agreed despite everything. He bid you goodnight.

The wind teased you that night, billowing in your curtains and kissing chills onto your skin as you thrashed around in your bed in the search of a comfortable position. You thought about doubt, and choices, but did finally get to sleep. Small mercies.

#fe3h #yuri leclerc #claude von riegan #fe yuri #fe claude #yuri leclerc x reader #claude von riegan x reader #my writing #fe yuri x reader #fe claude x reader #fire emblem three houses #my life is a mess as of late i'm sorry lol

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summonerscenarios · 4 years

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If you do angst, can you do hcs on Ophion, Oniwaka, and Zabiniyya in this scenario. They get kidnapped. The 3 guys are then shown loops of them and MC falling in love, but it shows that those loops end with them betraying and killing MC. Luckily, they get saved by MC and Co. How would they feel toward MC after being shown all of that?

ooooooh okay so this one has been a long time coming but I think it finally came out okay!!! Apologies it may have come off a bit more serious than intended but I do hope that it’s okay~!

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Ophion

The kidnappers have definitely got either extremely accurate Intel or got extremely lucky to have managed to find the great Ophion in a moment of supposed weakness. Inevitably his overconfidence in his own abilities that gets him captured — he underestimated his opponents by assuming that their strength was merely in their numbers. And it is because of this that he’s unable to see the incoming onslaught of attacks, forcing his guard down long enough for them to charge in and bring him to his knees.

Ophion’s kidnappers make no attempts to hide their location — their movements would seem sloppy to anyone else as they transport him back to their destination, however by the time they arrive at the location in question it’s clear that it’s on purpose. They want someone to come for him, meaning that they plan to make this quick and that’s a dangerous game to be involved in. His restraints may keep him bound for now but he’s already testing them for weaknesses, waiting for the right moment to snap them off as he’s tied down in one of the building's many rooms.

Though he’s enraged over his capture he’s smarter than to waste his breath angering his kidnappers; instead he tries to get as much information out of them as he could, and surprisingly they’re more open to his questions than he’d first thought. They let slip about an orb and memories and it is then that they seem to decide that they have waited long enough. The orb comes into view, cradled in the leader’s arms as it is presented to Ophion, however the dragon has little time to observe the weird sphere before something begins to force its way into his thoughts.

The memories that begin to seep out of the crevices within his mind are new, or so he thinks — he recognizes the places and faces of those he’s seen before, and knows somewhere deep within himself that these memories are his own, and yet they couldn’t feel more foreign to him even as they click into place. Many come and go through this bizarre slideshow, but the one who shines above them all is of course you, his beloved spouse. He watches these moments that have passed yet don’t exist; of taking you into his arms, hearing you laugh as you relax against his broad chest, a content look of pure adoration on your face. Your skin feels real beneath his hand and lips as he relieves these memories of intimate moments you’ve shared together, recalling the eager smiles, the long nights and the quiet times of mutual understanding between you - it’s more than what he could have ever desired...

Your first death comes without warning. The moments leading up to it are lost under a sheer wave of memories as they filter through the correct ones to show him, and suddenly Ophion is now acutely aware of their intentions as he looks down at you unmoving form from his own eyes. You’re curled up as though mid crawl at his feet, one hand wrapped around his ankles and nails digging into the scales unwilling to release even in death. If it wasn’t for the pain he would have cast it aside as a lie, a mere illusion to wear away his spirit, but as the memories begging to pour in, further and further burrowing into his mind he realizes this is not a one time occurrence.

More and more blood is spilt, it stains his golden scales a burning scarlet and his claws still hold remains of your flesh; every battle ends in a similarly brutal fashion seeing through to your demise at his own hands. You put up a fight till the very end, even mortally wounded you don’t give up, a testament to your devotion to a better future; in any other circumstance seeing you fight would light the fire of pride deep within his heart, but now? As he hears you cry and scream and beg and fight? It pierces deeper than any blade could hope to touch and it twists.

Ophion is appalled at his own actions - what could possibly have deluded this old self of his into believing that your death was just? What could it have possibly fixed? He isn’t privy to such answers, a move that he knows is intentional and suddenly the rage within him bubbles once again at the thought of his kidnappers. It is this that finally breaks him out of this death cycle, and he comes to alone in that same room, but not for long.

You’re the one to find him first, and at the sound of your voice calling out to him Ophion’s head snaps up to meet your own; it only takes a few tries at his restraints before he’s free and almost immediately he takes you into his arms, ignoring the squeak of surprise it pulls out of you in favor of holding you impossibly close. Of course you laugh it off as his usual eccentric tricks however this time it’s anything but - his hold is firm but now keenly aware of how fragile you can be and his main focus is hearing your heartbeat, feeling your pulse and watching the rise and fall of your chest to assure himself that the you before him is truly alive — alive and unharmed.

He does his best to take these new memories to heart — they are valuable lessons of the errors which he was foolish enough to make and they are not ones that he will allow to take place again so long as there is breath in his lungs. However he does not come out of the experience mentally unscathed. In moments of silence his mind brings back these memories, the voices and screams being the most prevalent to worm into his thoughts. Ophion also finds himself hesitating to touch you; it’s as though your very body is glass beneath his claws, cracks blossoming across your skin visible to none but himself in his mind’s eye. It angers him more than anything to realize this hesitation, but he’s unable to shake it long after this event, as though his body waits for those memories to repeat themselves once again...

Oniwaka

Oniwaka is pissed. He’d barely even let his guard down for a minute and look where it gets him! He’s been in his fair share of scraps and knows that anyone with the balls to try and corner him in an alleyway is looking for a fight. The trouble is he’s so sure that he can take them on no problem that he doesn’t even realize just how badly they’ve got him pinned until he’s surrounded with his back to the wall. Obviously he’s not going to take getting kidnapped lying down and quite literally fights tooth and nail, dealing out some pretty heavy damage against his attackers before they finally manage to knock him down and out cold.

By the time he comes to it’s clear he’s been moved somewhere else. He’s bound tightly enough that each attempt at deep breaths hurts and he doesn’t recognize the area; though it’s so suspiciously clean, sterile and well kept that it sets red flags off in his head almost immediately. It also doesn’t take him long to notice that he’s not alone in the room. The only other person in the room is looking at him without saying a word, which is even more unnerving than if they’d been openly mocking him about the situation. There’s a few minutes where there’s only silence. That damn, stretching silence that’s long enough that he’s on the defensive the moment that his kidnapper finally stands up.

He’s fully preparing himself for some kind of interrogation, waiting for the weapons to be drawn and blood to be spilt. He’s snarling at them trying to get them to back off when they reach back for something, pulling out some kind of black orb and before he can even snap at them asking what the fuck that is it just hits him.

Something’s tugging at the back of his mind, unlocking an empty space in his head and filling it up with information that feels like it should have been there all along. Oniwaka sees you. He remembers times spent together with you that he shouldn’t, times where you’re smiling and holding hands and pressed impossibly close where all he could touch and breathe was you - they’re times of love. And he remembers none of it. He knows that these are his memories but he can’t wrap his head around what he’s seeing - the two of you were together, in love even, and watching this all play out makes something in his chest swell that he can’t describe...it almost feels nice to know that you shared this kind of relationship, and could even share it again this time around.

The pleasant memories don’t last for long however, they’re all too soon ripped away from his mind and suddenly there’s betrayal and blood scarring his every thought when he realizes the outcome of this loop. You die, cut down by his very own blade and bleeding out right in front of him and he watches himself...do absolutely nothing. The ...other Oniwaka just watches you as your breathing slows and then your chest stops rising...your tears stop falling...the whimpers grow quiet...and just like that he’s alone...until it resets.

And that’s not the only time either. He sees it again and again, your death played out in so many different ways and places that he loses track, but all of them end with one glaring similarity - your death is his fault. It tears him apart from the inside out seeing the replays. He can feel your flesh breaking open beneath his weapon, feel you clawing at the hands wrapped around your throat, see the look of utter betrayal begging him for answers —Why? Why are you doing this?! Maybe it’s the kidnappers’ intentions all along or just pure misfortune but those answers don't come with these memories and this is probably worse than any other pain they could have inflicted on him- and the whole time this is happening that’s all he can ask himself.

Why? What led to this point? Why did he betray you? Ruin your trust? Kill you?!

There’s no telling how much time passes between the first wave of memories and his rescue. By the time that you and the Summoners find out where he is and come to save him the kidnappers are long gone and his head is still reeling from the relentless assault of new(old?) memories. Oniwaka is uncharacteristically quiet, tuning out most of what is being said as he’s cut free; he’s glad that he can breathe easier now but the room still feels stifling with the weight of what happened there. When Oniwaka sees you approach him he tenses up and immediately steps around you, stating bluntly that they need to get out of here and walking right on ahead, much to the concern of you and the other Summoners.

You try to talk to him but you’ll get nothing aside from one worded answers and the occasional grunt. All attempts at conversation end up at dead ends and even though it kills him to see the hurt look on your face he knows that he’ll probably end up snapping at you if he tries to answer.

He completely cuts contact with you all for a long while after that, but checks on you from time to time when you don’t notice him. Oniwaka’s going to try and work through the memories that he’s got to deal with on his own and is torn between his promise of protecting you and the worry over what he could do to you if he gets too close. He’s seen it first hand what getting attached to you can lead to and he doesn’t even know what triggers it. Every time that he looks at his hands he can see your blood staining them no matter how many times he’s tried to scrub it away. The only thing he really hopes is that those Summoners can protect you more than he can, because he’s struggling to even trust himself around you from this point onwards.

Zabaniyya

Out of the three of them Zabaniyya would very likely be the hardest to capture. The flames he commands and the strength of his rule is perfectly tailored to his days of being a torturer and it would take many enemies, time and sheer luck to wear him down enough to be able to take him. He had only stepped away from the Aoyama guilds territory for a short while, having just seen you off from your visit and was on his way to return back when they had accosted him, swarming in abruptly and keeping him cornered off in a space small enough where his flames would not be as effective.Clearly they were waiting for this moment and had timed it carefully to leave room for little error, however he could not afford to let these people do as they pleased.

Zabaniyya doesn’t feel the hit that takes him out — and finds himself waking up chained down and restrained in a place unfamiliar to him some time later. It’s crude work but strong enough that his limbs are stiff and beginning to numb. There’s little time to wonder over the kidnapper’s purpose for taking him when the door on the far end of the room opens up and someone walks in - though from his position anything from the waist up is hard to make out. Their footsteps are calm but cautious; they’re smart enough to realize that even restrained he’s still very much a danger to them, yet the fact that they still continue to approach as though confident in their safety causes an unusual feeling to settle within him...apprehension perhaps?

There’s a moment where the transient wonders if this is how those tortured by his flames had felt - waiting for an inevitable blow to come no matter how prepared they allow themselves to believe they are. Surely the reason for his capture has to do with his ties to you, as few would go through this length to use him as leverage against his own guild when there were many others easier to take. It is with this mindset that he resolves himself that he will not break no matter the pain that these captors intend to inflict on him. The only words he hears his captors speak is the hushed words of “Gotta make this one quick” before the orb comes into view.

The memories come suddenly. There is no warning, no command that starts the presentation of past loops but nonetheless they are there, worming their way through his mind and weaving into the missing gaps until the memories start to take shape. Feelings, touch, taste, noise - they all come along with the images of forgotten moments, and many things begin to click into place watching them play out before him. He’s surprised to find you so tightly woven into these sets of memories, and it jarrs him further upon realizing that it is clear the two of you have a relationship far deeper than a tool and a summoner. These newfound moments of intimacy stir up something within him; it’s greedy and fiery and it makes his fingertips ache to recreate what he sees before him. Seeing you smile and weave your fingers between his own, watching your mere presence that can light up an entire room focus directly upon his previous self as though he is the only one on your mind. It’s selfish but it’s something he finds himself wanting desperately.

However it is then that this train of thought is all but shattered once the endings begin to play. There is no happy ending, no pleasant outcome to allow him to fantasize about your perceived future together. The first time he held your dying body in his arms felt too horrific to be real; you were scorched, beaten and every breath is a struggle and yet you were still kind to him. You’d looked up into his eyes and told him you understood, even though you were hurting, scarred and scared. His previous self had enough decency to prevent you from suffering any further, but it was only the beginning of many.

Each betrayal followed a similar pattern - the periods of bliss between them fluctuate from days, to weeks to mere hours before an event triggers the fight that sparks between you.It appears as though you are the only one caught in the crossfire, the other Summoners fortunately spared yet seemingly absent when you would need them most. Your deaths were almost always swift which he finds a twisted blessing, but the cumulative pain that you must have experienced over and over again at his very own hands no less destroys Zabaniyya more than any form of torture these kidnappers could have subjected him to.

Zabaniyya only comes back to his senses once he hears voices, knocking him out of whatever stupor the orb had left him in. He recognizes it as Toji and Ryota, hearing them getting closer right as they open the door to find him, surprise washing over their faces before Ryota rushes forward to check on him and Toji calls out to the others that they’d found him. While still trying to gain his bearings he’s able to shuck off what’s left of his shackles and get to his feet by the time the other Summoners make it inside the room. He’s attempting to ease Ryota’s worries about being hurt as the boy swarms him in near tears when he feels a comforting hand pressing against his shoulder. There’s a single moment where he forgets what he’s witnessed as he looks up to meet your gaze, but as he watches your face melt from concern to relief it’s as though that warm hand scorches his very flesh and he tears away as though burned.

He’s failed you, that much is clear to him. Even if he were to argue that those versions of himself aren’t the person that he is now the fact that it happened in the first place is irredeemable enough in his eyes. He isn’t able to look you in the eyes the whole time; every time he looks at you he’s haunted by the stench of your charred flesh and those warm eyes looking at him in worry only aid in sickening him further remembering them hollow and void. The moment that you go your separate ways he’s steeled himself in the resolve that he refuses to allow these loops to ever repeat themselves. He still desires to be your spear, and devotes himself to the role of a tool for your use should you ever need it, but in every other sense he is completely closed off from anything beyond that. The reasoning of ‘if he doesn’t allow himself to fall prey to his own emotions then he will be able to keep you safe’ is the only way of thinking that he allows himself to entertain and in this he isn’t going to waver.

In the end he doesn’t tell you or the Summoners what he saw — he knows that he should, you deserve the right to know what exactly happened in those past loops, and yet every time he considers confessing to you his chest tightens at the thought of you looking at him as some kind of monster when you inevitably learn that he killed you. Surely you could never forgive him? Even if you did he’d never forgive himself; and so he keeps it from you as his own sin to bear, one that he will never stop punishing himself for.

#housamo #tokyo afterschool summoners #housamo imagine #housamo headcanon #headcanons #ophion #housamo ophion #oniwaka #housamo oniwaka #housamo zabaniyya #zabaniyya #request #anon #ask #angst

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jadekitty777 · 4 years

Text

Ain't Your Ordinary Tinkerbell

Seems like I’m not getting out of these FG shipweeks with every one being a fully completed work (*eyes the unfinished soulmate one from March*).

This one is a story that’s been on the backburner for awhile, but I do intend to finish it. I got inspired to do this one from Shana340′s Dark Fairy AU... the minute the first picture was posted I fell in love and wanted to write something but couldn’t think of anything concrete. Leading to the piece that really got my storyline cogs going this one, which was the collab done between her, Chi and Kyra. So I hope you’ll all like this... admittedly short beginning!

Day 3: Fantasy AU

Dedicated to: @shana340artblog with side credit given to @chiherah and @narwhalish

Rating: K

Words: 3.5k

Summary: All fairies, except one, are welcome to Feywood.

This is the story of Qrow, the only fairy to be unwelcome, and his desperate journey to find a place he belongs. [Dark Fairy AU]

Ao3 Link: Chapter 1:First and Second

His life was over.

“Qrow Branwen! By order of the Queen you are to return to – ack!” Whatever else Tukson was about to command was mercilessly cut off by one of Tai’s ruthless punches to the gut.

Tai left the woodland fairy on his knees before hopping back to stand on the railing of his treehouse’s porch. “There’s more where that came from, so all of you back off!”

“Tai-!” Qrow tried to go back for him, but Summer’s grip on his arm was stronger than spider thread.

“He’ll be fine, come on!” She shouted as she pulled him inside.

Qrow’s last glimpse of his best friend was the proud, protective way he fanned out his feathery, yellow wings as he faced the oncoming Queen’s guard, before Summer shut the door and she started to throw up magical wards.

They wouldn’t kill him – he knew that with as much certainty as he knew the sun would rise tomorrow. No one was foolish enough to eradicate a phoenix fire fairy. The nightmarish stories of their vengeful rebirth were things of legend; tales of burnt down forests and wiped out colonies. Still, Queen Salem would punish him severely for his defiance. His friend was making a great sacrifice for him – and Qrow would never be able to pay it back.

His eyes fell to Summer, still working her magic, her silver butterfly wings emitting a soft light every time a spell was cast. She, likewise, would be receiving retribution for her actions today.

Guilt weighed his wings down, until they nearly brushed the floor. “Summer, I…”

“Don’t just stand there!” She cut him off with a snap. “Dust is in the second drawer to the right. Hurry!”

He bit down the protest that wanted to ring out, turning on his heels and running to the hutch. He ignored the knickknacks of lost things the three (four) of them had collected over the years, for the memories they would have brought forth would stall him yet again when there was no time left for him to delay. He yanked open the requested drawer and pulled out the satchel, the edges of it glowing sunflower gold, nearly spilling out as he carried it across the room.

Summer met him in the middle, taking the bag and undoing the clips. “There’s just enough for me to get you to the human world. You’ll be out of reach there. You’ll, be safe there.”

He could tell she was trying to be strong, but the shake told him she was barely holding back tears. It left his own eyes stinging. “I’m sorry. If only I hadn’t been born with these accursed wings.”

“No.” Summer seemed to pause for the first time since they’d fled from the Queen’s castle. Her gaze on him was open and earnest as it always was. “Qrow, what all she was saying – that you’re a harbinger. That you caused the drought. I don’t believe a word of it.”

“You can’t be sure of that.” He told her, unconsciously folding his wings over his arms. As if the dark things actually had the power to protect anything.

She shook her head adamantly. “I’m sure of you. Your magic is beautiful but misunderstood.”

A thud against the wall made them both jump. Time was running out.

Summer upended the satchel over him, the fairy dust spilling over his head and clinging to his clothes and feathers. Despite its warmth, Qrow felt none of the normal elation and joy that came with being touched by the dust’s power. Instead, he was left shivering and empty as he realized this would be the very last time.

“I,” The dam he’d held finally broke, spilling down his cheeks. “I love you both, so much.”

She clutched the back of his head, bringing him close and touching their foreheads together. The diadems they both wore clinked together, the mystical jewel in the middle of hers tapping the hollow hole where his had once been before it was stolen away. For a second, he felt touched by her magic.

“No matter where you are, we will always be your family.” She swore to him.

“I know.” He would never forget.

She pulled away, taking two steps back and cast her final spell.

It layered over him like ivy vines, immobilizing him so effectively, there was nothing to he could do – not even shout – as he saw the wards shatter along the door and get thrown open, the Queen’s guards rushing in.

He was plummeting before they could even hope to reach him.

Everything fell away. The floor underneath his feet, the walls of the house around him, even Summer herself warped out of existence as he was thrown through the magical plane. Nothing was left but a kaleidoscope of color and noise, so chaotic it was impossible to grasp at anything defined. And then he was out the other side, the chill on his skin immediate as a constellation of stars surrounded him.

Though not a novice by any means, it took him longer than usual to recover from the jump, so that he was already falling through the clouds before he finally willed his wings to open. A few steady flaps were all it took to right himself and control his flight and soon he was wheeling round and round, descending through the darkness of night to the human world below.

All the times before when he’d visited, he approached with wonder and curiosity. Humanity had many creations, from their giant fireflies on poles to their noisemakers on wheels. Each item was fantastic to consider their use – or if they had one at all. The species was frivolous like that, creating things of beauty simply for the art of it.

But now he could hardly focus on the landscape below him, taking in only the most minute of details like the shimmer that implied a lake a winged creature such as him should best avoid and the many small abodes that ringed around it. He was drawn to the one that still had its fireflies lit, too distressed to think of much else beyond a place to hide.

He landed on the rooftop, entire body dragging as he lumbered about for something raised high enough to slip in-between. But it was made of a material he was not used to, flat and gravely. When he tried to pull at one, he found they were held in place by silver tacks. Without magic, he’d never be able to pull them up. No magic, no home, no family. Everything was gone.

Qrow gave a noise that sounded too close to despair, sitting down on the edge of the roof and burying his head in his hands.

How had things gone so wrong? He’d awoken this morning with expectations to get to work. Harvest was soon and the plants needed careful tending by all hands this time of year. Yet, instead, he found himself belayed on his flight, called away by an urgent message by their queen. What would have happened to him had Tai not spotted him being detoured and grew suspicious? What would he have done, had he been alone in that throne room when Salem decreed his disownment to her court before she plucked the ruby gem from his diadem and stole his magic away? He would have been helpless and dead, if not for Tai and Summer rushing in at that moment to intervene. And now here he was, lost and alone.

Perhaps a fate worse than death after all.

A few seasons ago, Raven had warned him before she had left that this was what all those stray, accusatory looks from their fellow clanmates would build to. He’d brushed off her concerns, claimed them as nothing but excuses for her true desire to run away from a place she never felt she belonged to – what an incredible fool he was! If his sister could see him now, she’d mock and jeer at him and it would only be what he deserved and more.

If only he had believed her. Had gone with her. At least then they’d be together. Did he even have any hope of finding her, on this vast and massive world?

A screeching noise jerked him to attention immediately, unconsciously flattening close to the roof as wariness overtook distress. There were many ways he imagined he could go out from this world; to be a meal for an owl was not one he particularly liked to entertain. He could feel sorry for himself once he was properly hidden.

He searched the sky and trees with an attentive eye, trying to spot something staring back – and that was how he noticed it. A little, green home hung from the branch of a tree, not unlike the ones back home.

Why would a human have a fairy house?

Another screech in the wind reminded him he did not have time for such trivial thoughts, so he swooped down quickly, landing on the little platform leading to a decently sized hole. He took note of its shape, finding it wasn’t perfectly round, and shavings of wood jutted at strange angles, as if it had only just recently been carved.

As he climbed inside, he found there was nothing inside but a nest of moss, sticks, and leaves with one portion particularly more rotund than everything else. It was there he rested, finding the bed suitable for now as he drew his wings about himself and resigned himself to his new home.

~~~~~

On the third day, at dawn, whistling awoke him just like it had the days before.

Qrow sat up from his nest, stretching his arms above his head and flapping out his wings, stirring the loose bits all about. He leaned out of the hole of his shelter, watching the single human who lived in the house pass by underneath him. He was going fishing yet again if the pole resting on his shoulder was any indication. It seemed to be a daily chore – or maybe a pleasure. He would not be back until the sun had evaporated the morning dew from the grass.

It was a consistent, reliable routine and one Qrow would use to his advantage.

Once the man had disappeared on his boat, Qrow got to work. By the handful, he begun to shove out the pointy sticks, pieces of smelly moss and crinkly leaves out the hole, letting it litter the floor far below. Once complete, he plucked one of his own feathers, sweeping up the dirt and pebbles that had been lying underneath it all, tossing it out by the handful until his temporary home was decently clean.

Job complete, he moved onto his second mission, climbing out through the hole and swooping down towards the man’s larger version. He needed at least a few things – something to gather water, something sharp to cut plants, and some soft, proper bedding. He may not have plans to stay forever, but he certainly did not need to live uncomfortably in the meanwhile.

He fell down to the door, landing on the knob, considering how he might open it. Had he had his magic, he could have willed it to turn itself or transform to his full size to just grasp it in his own hand. Neither were on option, so he’d have to be creative.

He tried instead to hop up and then back down, putting force into his legs. Rather than causing the knob to budge, his shoes merely slipped on the smooth surface, and he gave a cry as he fell right off. A few frantic flaps kept him from hitting the ground and back to the knob he went, considering again. He eyed the space between the door and the frame, before wedging himself there and trying to push his feet against the knob, leveraging all his weight in hopes it would turn.

Yet, it barely budged.

Qrow grunted, frustration welling within him at his limitations, before giving up the venture. Instead, he circled the home in hopes of finding an easier way in. His hope came in the form of a window, open just a crack. He gripped the side of the open pane, planting a foot against the jamb and the other on the sill, and started to pull. It slid by the millimeter, painfully slow, his body straining with the effort.

And then, quite suddenly, it slid open several all at once. He lost his balance and fell again, only to wearily make his way back up, pleased to find the opening had widened considerably. He sidled in sideways and hopped down to a large wooden surface just underneath, plopping down for a sit and taking stock of his new surroundings.

At this size, it was easy to say everything looked quite grand, but experience told him this human lived quite modestly. From the writing utensils nearby, Qrow knew he sat upon a desk. Directly across the room, was the kitchen with its many metallic oddities to craft meals. Two doors, both open, were to his right one yielding a bedroom, the other a washroom. To his left, a small sitting area with a comfortable looking chair and a low table with an unfinished ship-in-a-bottle placed upon it. Adjacent that, angled against a wall, was also a tall bookcase, full to the brim with texts that all looked well-read. There were other decorations upon the walls – pictures and paintings that were all pretty green landscapes, wild oceans and colorful sunrises.

Had he been able to grow, he could have explored the home more fully. All the drawers and cabinets were certainly well stocked with things he could certainly make use of. With the knowledge his excursion would certainly be more restricted, he stood with a sigh and flew to the thing that had most intrigued him.

He landed upon the table, eyeing over the strewn parts of the unfinished ship that gave off a glint or shine, knowing they had the highest chance of being sharp. A laugh almost left him when he noticed the embellishments that were meant to gussy up the whole thing and found a small, fairy-sized cutlass among them. Retrieving it, he found its weight to be acceptable and its sharpness to be true. He flew it back to the desk before beginning his search anew.

His water container was much less glamorous – nothing more than a bottle cap that smelt of sweetness retrieved from the kitchen counter. Still he added it to his small pile before heading to the washroom for what he knew would make a perfect bedding.

The rectangular box he was looking for was set on the corner of the sink, little white tissue sticking out from the top. He pulled out a few, folding the large sheets over and over until they were easily transportable squares. Once done, he carried them to the rest of his collection of stolen things. He placed the sword in the notch of his belt before hefting the cap and tissues under either arm and squeezed back out the window.

Qrow was back home and already laying in the softness of his new bed well before the whistling of the man returned.

AS he ponded over his unknown future, he fell into a restless, exhausted sleep.

Qrow was awoken instantly by a violent rocking that tumbled him from his bed.

His back impacted a wall, disorienting him as his vision swiveled, and he turned his head about to figure what was going on. A scratching noise had him looking to his entrance, only for his heart to leap into his throat as he was faced down by a pair of black, beady eyes.

The bird knocked its beak against the edge of the hole once again, the noise rattling the walls of the home and shaking him to his bones. In the streams of light that filtered in every time it pulled its head back, he caught the red crest along its crown. Between that and the chips of wood beginning to litter his newly cleaned floor, the species name came to him.

Woodpecker.

Suddenly, the misshapen hole and the empty nest had connotations he dared not give full thought to.

Breath coming in rapid pants, he flattened himself into the furthest corner he could while scrambling blindly for his sword. His terror only heightened as the woodpecker squeezed its way inside and in the light that followed, he spotted the glint on the other side of the room. Well out of reach of saving him.

With alarming speed, the bird thrust its beak at him. Qrow ducked low, narrowly avoiding the attack and dove to the opposite wall, scrabbling along it to try and reach the exit. His fingers curled around the edge of the jagged hole, freedom moments away.

It was ripped from him as that beak latched around the top of his left wing as the woodpecker yanked him back. He shouted, agony lacing like lightning through him, and he desperately twisted and struck out with a fist, delivering a swift sucker punch right between those hungry eyes. It released him with a squawk of surprise and maybe pain, jerking back.

Qrow wasted no time, clambering out the exit and taking to the wind.

The problem was immediately realized as his injured wing buckled and his other flapped wildly to compensate, sending him into an uncontrolled downward spiral. Everything meshed together into a confusing motley, and he braced himself for the inevitable impact.

He didn’t hit the dirt – didn’t even come close to it – because the house got in the way of his chaotic flight. He caught only the briefest glimpse of his own, panicked face, before glass was shattering around him in a great, explosive sound. His shoulder took the brunt of the next impact and he went rolling along a hard surface, stopping just short of falling off the edge.

In the moments that followed, all Qrow knew was anguish. It quaked along his entire body, every nerve on fire. But the pain was most splitting on his lame wing, lances of it shrieking through the delicate, hollow bones and zipping with unforgiving ferocity along his spine. He knew without having to test it that it was broken.

Gingerly as he could, he sat up, a hiss escaping him as his shoulder also protested movement. His hand fell to it, grounding himself with a few deep, slow breathes.

“Great stars.”

The sudden voice had him jerking around and for the second time within ten minutes, he was confronted by a face larger than his own. It was the fisherman. Deep set green eyes stared back at him, mouth slightly agape with shock.

Qrow’s chest froze with fear and he leapt to his feet only to immediately stumble back to his knees when the pain became too great to handle.

“Hey…” The human’s tone lilted with concern. “Are you alright?”

A hand as large as his torso reached for him. He flinched back, instinctively trying to curl his wings around him, only to cringe as his broken one protested violently.

The man drew back immediately, eyeing him in quiet worry. When he spoke again, it was even softer than before, “Listen, I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to check on that wing of yours.” He rested his palm out, open and inviting, before him. “Please don’t be scared.”

Tiny as he was, Qrow offered his fiercest glare in return.

“Alright.” The man seemed to get comfortable, hand never moving from its spot. “I’ll wait.”

Incredulity filled him. He seemed certain Qrow would bend to his will. Was this man overconfident or simply foolish?

Knowing humans, it could easily be either one.

Then, even more unbelievably, the man smiled. “I’m Clover by the way.”

“I didn’t ask.” Qrow snapped. A useless endeavor, as he knew humans could not understand him in this form.

Clover arched a brow in return, replying anyways, “I’ll take that as a ‘nice to meet you’.”

He rolled his eyes, pointedly avoiding his gaze, and instead considered his options. He was on an empty shelf that was next to the kitchen, with nothing close by to climb down to. Not that it mattered. With the window broken, he wouldn’t have too much trouble leaping out of it.

But then what? Even if he survived the drop without further injury, he was grounded until his wing healed, at the mercy of every predator sharp enough to snatch up an easy meal. And even if he did escape and managed to survive the grueling two months of mending such a break would take, without a proper healer to bind it, his wing wouldn’t set correctly.

He’d… never fly again.

Was that a price he wished to pay for stubbornness? His friends didn’t risk everything for him not to do the same.

He looked over to Clover, read his earnest and hopeful expression.

Defeatedly, he rose to his feet, took three steps to what might possibly be his greatest mistake yet, and plopped back down onto his palm.

Clover gave him another beaming grin, rising with all the care of a man who knew he held a very delicate gift. “Don’t you worry, fairytale. I’ll have you fixed up in no time.”

Already familiar enough with his surroundings, he didn’t bother to look around, merely accepting what was certain to be his next new home.

Well, third time’s the charm, right?

#qrow branwen #clover ebi #fair game #fairgameweek2020 #rwby #fanfiction #Chase Firekitten's Tale

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such-fun · 4 years

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Fic: Closer to the Light 1/? Kylo Ren x Reader

Closer to the Light

Pairing: Kylo Ren x Reader

Summary: You rejected the Force once, but it’s pull won’t be denied.

Spoilers: No TROS spoilers. Takes place just before The Force Awakens and continues from there. Rey will feature but not as heavily.

One:

You laid on the mass of blankets that you called a bed, staring blankly up at the drooping top of your modest tent. Sleep hadn’t come easily last night, nor any night before it for many years.

It wasn’t the heat or the constant muted glow of the sun that kept you awake. The nightmares, your memories did that all on their own. You spent years running, trying to outpace them. But they were never far behind. So you gave up the chase.

Now you found yourself on Abafar in self-imposed isolation.

People avoided the desert planet. That’s what you liked about it. It was quiet.

You spent most days in the mines. They were remote and your quarry dangerous, but they provided much needed shade from the unrelenting sun that cast an ever bearing orange hue to the sky.

The work was solitary, but if you were fortunate enough to find a decent supply of Rhydonium you would venture into Pons Ora to sell the powerful yet unstable fuel to any one willing to offer credits for it. Not many people lived on Abafar, but pilots regularly appeared in search of fuel and water. Both were in good supply.

You sighed, running a hand over your face as you tossed aside your covers and stretched.

It was time yet again to make the trek into Pons Ora. Your speeder had seen better days but it still did it’s job. You had no fuel to sell, but you’d stowed away some credits for a new coupling that would hopefully keep your speeder from finally crapping out on you and leaving you stranded in the mines one day soon.

You pulled on your worn jacket, tied your hair into a messy ponytail, and slid on a scratched pair of goggles as you stepped outside, squinting at the brightness of the sun that shone through the ever present dusty haze.

A good time later you had Pons Ora in your sights. A number of ships were parked along the outskirts of town, which was typical. One caught your eye, a black T-70 X-wing.

X-wings weren’t special, but it was the care shown to this particular spacecraft that stood out.

Putting it out of your mind, you picked up the part you needed at the market stall and decided to stop in the tavern for a bite before heading out. While water was surprisingly plentiful in the desert, food was not. Your rations in your encampment would keep you full but were bland and unsatisfying.

There were a dozen people milling around. The barkeep was speaking in short sentences to a man with an orange and white droid at his side. The handful of tables were largely unoccupied as most lingered near the bar. People hardly stopped in for the ambiance. The faster they ate and drank their share, the faster they could leave this sandy pit.

You collapsed onto a chair at an empty table and nodded at the waitress who glanced your way. She had come to expect you every few weeks and knew your usual order.

Pulling the newly purchased coupling from your bag, you eyed the wear and tear on it. It was a scavenged piece but it should serve your needs. At least until you brought in a big enough haul of Rhydonium to afford a better land speeder.

“Mind if I join you?”

Your head jerked up and you eyed the stranger curiously.

He was too pretty to be from this wasteland. Though you could see the light sheen of perspiration on his brow and the particles of dust that clung to his face, it gave him a more rugged instead of simply dirty appearance. You almost loathed him for the ease of his smile and the grace of his bearing.

Glancing around, you eyed the empty tables and vacant chairs, raising a suspicious brow at the man you most certainly considered a rogue.

“If you insist,” you shrugged, sliding out the chair across from you with a push of your foot. His grin only widened, all charm.

The droid at his side, a BB unit if you had to guess, chirped. You weren’t familiar with its clicks and squeaks, but the man just chuckled softly and patted it on the head. Well, what you supposed was its head.

You straightened in your seat as the waitress slid a small platter of food in front of you and your unwanted guest waved away your mild concern at appearing rude.

“Don’t starve on my account,” he said casually as he settled into his chair. “I’m Poe,” he introduced himself. The droid rolled forward slightly, as if to nudge him on the arm. “And this is BB-8,” he added with chagrin. Apparently BB-8 refused to be ignored.

You nodded in acknowledgement as you tore a piece of bread and stuffed it into your mouth.

Silence lingered and he shifted in his seat. “And you are?”, he gently prodded you.

“Wondering what you want,” you muttered, and his grin wavered slightly.

“You’re not from around here,” you continued, looking him up and down. You had to give him credit, he didn’t shy away from your perusal. “Or I would have seen you before. You haven’t been to the mines, or else you’d be covered head to toe in sand and dust like the rest of us. And judging from the state of your droid and that shiny X-wing I bet is yours, you’ve got money. Or at least access to people who have a few credits to their name.

“Which tells me you’re not likely in need of any volatile fuel like Rhydonium, not when you take such good care of your ship.” Poe leaned back in his chair, looking far too calm and relaxed for your comfort. “And considering fuel or desperation are the only things that bring people to this hunk of rock, it has me wondering why you’re here.”

“Is that what brought you here?” he murmured softly. You tried to hide your flinch at the compassion in his eyes. “Desperation?”

“Yes,” you admitted flatly, taking him by surprise at your frankness. “What brings you here?”

“A mission,” Poe conceded, concluding that honesty may in fact be the best policy. “On behalf of the General.”

“The General,” you repeated skeptically. You didn’t keep up with much in the way of galactic news, not that you were completely unaware of the turmoil caused by the so-called First Order. But you could hardly imagine why some General would send some pretty flyboy your way.

“General Leia Organa,” Poe elaborated.

For a moment you stopped breathing, and then you were a flurry of motions.

You shoved your plate away, reaching into your bag and tossing a few credits on the table as you rushed to stand.

Poe reached out with a steady hand, stopping you before you fled, urging you with gentle pressure on your arm to sit back down.

No one spoke as you took note of the barkeep and waitress eyeing you both curiously. When their attention was once again diverted, you turned back to Poe. You knew your eyes must look wild to him, but you cared little for appearances.

“Whatever Leia wants,” your voice cracked at your urgent whisper. “I can’t do it.”

“She wants you to come home,” Poe said softly, giving your arm a reassuring squeeze before he released you. He sat a bit farther back, giving you some much needed space.

“This is home now,” you shook your head.

“You’re wasting away here,” he frowned, and BB-8 let out a solemn noise. “Do you even know what’s going on out there? The Resistance is struggling, the General is doing all she can but she’s been on her own for far too long. The Republic is no help. The First Order is terrorizing whole planets, and Kylo Ren—“

“Enough,” you snapped, and Poe tensed at your rebuke.

“That isn’t my fight.” And it wasn’t. There had been a time when you thought you might have been born to be a hero, but you had been proven wrong. Horribly wrong.

“Leia sent you on a fool’s errand,” you sighed, pushing your chair back and standing straight. “Tell her…tell her I’m sorry. That I wish—I wish things were different.”

“The General doesn’t give her trust easily,” Poe countered, standing and taking a cautious step forward. “If she thinks you can make a difference, you can.”

“I’m a passable pilot,” you confessed. “But useless in a dog fight. And I am no Jedi, not after—” Poe’s eyes widened and you were left wondering how much Leia told him about you. “The help she needs, the Resistance needs…Luke Skywalker is your only hope. You’d be better off looking for him.”

“She said you’d put up a fight,” he admitted with a crooked twist of his lips. “Just do me a favor,” he pled, pulling a piece of paper from his jacket pocket. It was folded twice and a bit wrinkled and he didn’t bother opening it before sliding it into your palm.

“If you change your mind, go to these coordinates. Ask for Maz Kanata, tell her Poe Dameron sent you. She’ll get you home. Your real home.” He gave you a sad smile, waited until you pocketed the paper, and then left the tavern with his droid in tow.

You found your feet glued to the floor, shock and surprise giving way to sadness and resignation.

It had been so long since you’d allowed yourself to think of Leia. She had been the closest thing you had to a mother during your training. And she’d lost so much more than you all those years ago.

Now she was a General, the leader of the Resistance. And you were envious of her ability to move forward. To do what was necessary.

But envy or not, you didn’t make a move to follow Poe. Instead you picked up your bag, note clenched in your hand as you dragged yourself towards your speeder.

You didn’t look back to see if that telltale black X-wing remained as you sped past the edge of town.

When you reached your encampment, you got to work on switching out the coupling on your speeder. With that done you crawled back into the shade of your tent.

For the first time in a long time you tried to meditate. Tried to find, if not peace, then the quiet that would calm your troubled mind.

Instead, you only remembered.

_______________

You shook uncontrollably, crouched in the corner of the temple, poorly hidden but silently praying the darkness provided much needed cover. You didn’t remember how you got there. One moment you were peacefully meditating and the next the sound of screams urged you to your feet.

The sight of bodies, your fellow students your mind supplied as you stood stupefied, sent you running. There had been no plan, no courageous attempt to confront the unseen attacker, instead you just ran.

An act of cowardice some might say, but you were no hero. You may have been studying to be a Jedi, but in the end you were still young, a student in the ways of the Force. This was supposed to be a safe place. Master Luke would protect you. You held unwavering faith in your Master.

And yet the corpses at your feet spoke volumes. Nowhere was safe and Luke Skywalker wasn’t to be your savior.

Hiding in the temple was a reflex, and you weren’t the only one to do so. Moments after you crawled to your darkened corner, a boy no more than thirteen came crashing through the doors. You heard the heavy thud of footsteps behind him and you instinctively cringed, burying your head in your knees as you heard the boy cut down by his pursuer.

You couldn’t stop the tears streaming down your face but you forced your breathing to slow, trying desperately to draw no attention from the man who heartlessly slaughtered your friends.

The footsteps paused, you stopped breathing entirely, and you shuddered as they picked up once more, slowly making their way towards the shadows you cloaked yourself in.

You felt his presence as he stood before you, eyeing the darkness, and you looked up in grim resignation. If this was how you were to die, you would look your killer in the eye. You would see the villain who stole your innocence, your idea of safety and security, your utterly foolish naivety, and make him remember your face.

Lifting your head, a hint of light illuminated the familiar angles of his face, and you felt true despair. Your voice sounded pitiful even to your own ears.

“Ben?”

_______________

The first few weeks after the massacre, you had frequent nightmares. You dreamed of him carelessly running you through, leaving you to die among your fallen comrades.

Eventually the nightmares gave way to absolute blackness. If you dreamed at all you had no memory of it.

You didn’t know why now, after all these years, the visions returned. But this was no mere nightmare. Instead your resting mind endlessly repeated the events of that night as they happened.

The look of blind rage on Ben’s face, replaced slowly by a terrifying emptiness as he studied your stunned expression. You swore he nearly flinched when he heard you whisper his name. His hands curled into fists and you pulled your knees tighter to you chest, tensing as you waited for him to strike.

And then there was a rush of steps and he was gone. Leaving you alone with only the dead boy on the unnaturally quiet temple grounds.

Luke eventually found you. Asked why Ben had spared you in his wrath. But you had no answer then. You had no answer now.

Ben Solo had been your friend. You had even harbored something of a crush on him. But neither one of you spoke of such things. Jedis were meant for solitary lives after all.

But Ben had many friends among his peers. He sometimes expressed doubt of their sincerity. He was the son of Leia Organa and Han Solo. His uncle was the Master. Many students wanted to be in good standing with him. And Ben was, admittedly, a bit quiet and socially awkward.

That’s where you two were similar. You lacked his legendary parentage but shared his tendency toward introspection and hesitancy to trust.

Luke supposed that perhaps you meant a great deal to his troubled nephew. You disagreed.

Ben had been enraged, so overwhelmed by his anger as he mindlessly slayed everyone around him. Maybe he had been startled when you said his name? Maybe his wrath had exhausted itself? Maybe he took pity on you?

Whatever his reason, you no longer allowed yourself to dwell on it. There was no point.

After Luke disappeared, so did you. Leia had hoped to keep you close, but you couldn’t be the replacement for her wayward son.

You spent years trying to lose yourself, and any connection to Force. You saw what it did to people. Luke was hunted as the last true Jedi, Ben was lost to the dark. And you wanted to no part of it.

And with that thought, you ripped up the crumpled note slipped to you by Poe.

This was home now.

___________

General Organa had hardly placed all her hopes on a fledgling Jedi who hid herself away.

She knew if the Resistance was to have any hope Luke had to be found. And before the First Order discovered his whereabouts.

When word came of Lor San Tekka and the missing piece of the map, the only map that might lead to her brother, she didn’t hesitate to send her best man to retrieve it.

Poe left immediately for Jakku. He had been disappointed in his failure to bring the girl to the General, even though Leia didn’t blame him for your refusal. He was eager to bring General Organa good news. He knew she was in desperate need of it.

It all happened so fast.

His meeting with Lor San Tekka interrupted by the arrival of the First Order. By Kylo Ren himself.

He sent BB-8 off with the map, knowing he had little to no chance of escaping. Not when that would mean standing idly by as innocent people were slaughtered. Not when he could at least try to stop it.

And he did try.

But he failed.

San Tekka was dead, the village had been laid to waste, and he was now strapped to a table staring down the masked man who ordered the massacre.

“I had no idea we had the best pilot in the Resistance on board.” Ren’s flattery, though insincere, made Poe straighten and hold his head up high. “Comfortable?”

Kylo Ren’s voice, distorted and low, would frighten an average man. But Poe was no average man.

“Not really,” he smirked through his split lip. The pain that radiated from his face and body from the beating the troopers gave him strangely helped him focus.

“I'm impressed. No one has been able to get out of you what you did with the map.” Ren showed no emotion, but Poe knew he was not pleased. It made him smile.

“Might wanna rethink your technique,” the pilot offered with a huff.

Leaning forward, Ren reached out a hand. It hovered teasingly beside Poe’s head, and he tensed. He waited for the pain, which was swift as Ren tried to pry into his memories.

Gritting his teeth, Poe fought to keep him out of his thoughts.

“Where is it?” Ren entreated. He seemed so calm as he easily decimated any defenses Poe threw up in his mind.

“The Resistance will not be intimidated,” Poe bit out.

Ren redoubled his efforts. “Where. Is. It?”

No amount of training could prepare him for the sheer power that Ren had. As at last his defenses were breached, Poe could only scream.

His memories flashed before his eyes in rapid succession.

Lor San Tekka. The village. The map. BB-8. The General. The desert. You.

You.

And then his mind was his own again and he let out an agonized cry.

Ren tore his hand away, standing suddenly at attention, glaring down at Poe through the blank expression of his mask.

“The girl,” he hissed. And Poe felt his heart drop into his stomach.

He didn’t know much about you. The General didn’t offer much about your past. And it wasn’t his place to ask. But whatever connection the two of you shared, Ren was aware of it too. And considering your mention of the Jedi, of Luke Skywalker, whatever Ren’s interest in you, it wasn’t good.

“Where is she?” Ren demanded.

Poe swallowed, and looked him in the eye. “The Resistance will not be—”

And then he was screaming again.

#kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #star wars #fanfiction #reader insert #general Leia organa #Princess Leia #leia organa #poe dameron #ben solo #luke skywalker #the force awakens #fic #the force #fic: closer to the light

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msmarvelouswinchester · 4 years

Text

I'll Be There For You

Summary - It's just a fic of j2 and their remarkable friendship.

Pairing - Jensen x Jared (platonic)

Warning - Swearing, angst-ish, self doubt, talks of depression, panic attack, some hateful comments (I spent fifteen minutes to come up with hateful comments against this amazing human being)

A/N - This is written for @devil-in-my-boots's request.

Jensen groaned as the alarm on his phone went off.

"I'm getting too old for this", Jensen murmured while thinking back to the events of the previous night. He didn't remember much. His memory being fuzzy indicated it was a wild night. He checked his phone, their panel started exactly in one hour. He reluctantly left his bed. He went into the bathroom to get freshened up. After getting dressed for the day, he left his room and trudged his way towards the green room hoping that a freshly brewed cup of coffee would be waiting for him.

He reached the room and his eyes scanned the area for the coffee and a particular person. His eyes lit up when he saw a creation con worker approaching him with a cup of coffee.

"Have you seen Jared?" Jensen asked the girl after he exchanged morning greetings and told a heartfelt thank you for the coffee.

"No. Maybe he is late. If I see him, I'll let him know that you were looking for him", Jensen nodded his head in agreement while taking the first sip of his energy drink.

"Hey Ackles!" Jensen heard his name being called.

"Remind me next time to never go out to get a drink with you guys", Jensen rolled his eyes.

"You weren't complaining last night", Richard smirked, "Where's your other half?"

"Jared? I don't know and I've been asking the same question", Jensen frowned.

"Your panel is in twenty. He is never this late", Richard copied Jensen's expression. "You are right, I'm gonna go and check on that dumbass. After last night, he probably missed his alarm", Jensen rolled his eyes but as he turned to go towards Jared's room, he saw the latter making his way towards them.

"Morning. What took you so long?" Jensen raised an eyebrow.

"I don't know. I'm not feeling great today", Jared frowned.

"I told you to not drink so much. It's probably the hangover".

"Yeah, I guess so". "Jared your coffee", a con worker interrupted their conversation and handed Jared his cup.

"Thanks", Jared gave the girl a little smile.

It was a quiet morning. Most of the cast members were suffering from severe hangover. None of them talked much and Jared mostly kept to himself before the panel started.

"You both are up in five". They both nodded and made their way towards the stage entry.

"You okay man?" Jensen eyed his best friend suspiciously. They have had nights like that before but Jared speaking not a single word the morning after was highly unlikely of him.

"Yeah. I'm fine", Jared tried to assure the green eyed actor but the latter was not convinced at all. Before Jensen could ask Jared more questions, they got their cue to go up on the stage.

On stage, Jensen noticed that Jared was trying to joke and make everyone laugh but Jensen could tell the actor had put on a fake smile for the fans. He kept a close eye on Jared hroughout the entire panel. The panel came to an end without any problems.

"Jared, what's up with you today?" Jensen asked.

"I don't know. Maybe today is not my day", Jared shrugged. Jensen knew that moment, his best friend was not okay. He was having an off day.

"Talk to me, Jare. What's troubling ya?"

"I said it's nothing. I need some space", Jared said and went to sit down in a secluded corner of the green room.

"Hey Ackles, Padalecki", Misha called out getting no reply from Jared.

"Hey", Jensen gave Misha a little smile while his eyes were fixed on Jared.

"What's up with him? He seemed fine yesterday," Misha pointed at the tall man.

"I don't know. He won't tell", Jensen frowned.

The rest of the day went on without a hitch. Jared didn't speak to anyone unless it was necessary. Jared's behaviour not only concerned Jensen but it started to worry the other actors too.

Jensen tried to remain as close as possible to Jared throughout the day in case he needed him unti he was pulled into his solo photo ops.

"Jare?" Jensen called out when he saw his friend sitting at the table in a secluded corner of an almost empty green room.

Jared didn't reply back. Jensen came closer to him and saw him sitting with his head down, his phone displaying the twitter app was lying in front of him on the table.

"Hey, hey, hey. What is it? Talk to me", Jared looked up at his best friend and Jensen noticed Jared's eyes were red indicating he had been crying.

"I-I can't. It's too much-...I don't know.....I tried", Jared answered in broken sentences.

"Hey buddy, have you been on twitter? You know you can tell me everything", Jensen nudged his friend.

"There is nothing to tell. I don't know, I just don't feel myself today and-" Jensen sat down on the chair beside him and looked at his phone. There were pictures from the previous nights along with some really hateful comments.

"Jared Padalecki is a messed up human being"

"He just wants Jensen's attention"

"Jared is selfish and arrogant. He doesn't care what his friends want. Especially Jensen"

"#jaredpadaleckiiscancelled"

Jensen swallowed thickly.

"Why did you go on twitter? You know that is-it's a very hateful place".

"It's not. They are right. Look at me Jensen. I just need your attention. I'm a fucking mess", Jared scoff.

"No you are not. This is just a bad day and those comments made it worse. Those are not true and we all know that", Jensen said sternly.

"They are right. I'm not worth all this Jay. Y-you could've gone back to your room but instead you are stuck with me. I'm not uh-worth the trouble", that one sentence made Jensen's heart beat faster. It felt like a déjà vu. "I'm so tired of this. T-The voices in my head just won't stop and-I-they are worse today.....They say fake it till you make it. I-I-I tried Jay, I t-tried to uh-f-fake it. But"- the words got stuck in Jared's throat and Jensen could see he was on the verge of a panic attack.

"Hey, hey shh. Match your breathing with mine. Okay?.......Take a deep breath now. Come on. That's it buddy.....You are fine. You will be fine. Always keep fighting, right?" Jensen kept assuring Jared.

"It's just-I create problems for everyone. They are right. T-Those people are right about one thing. I am trouble and....I am not important to anyone. You are worried about me too, j-just because I can't keep my shit together", Jared said in a strained voice.

Jensen pulled his best friend into a hug.

"Stop it Jare, you are a fucking human being. Those people who are hiding behind computer screens, they don't know you. You know why am I here today? Because you are important to us. You are important to your family....To me. Fuck those people! You can have good days and bad days. And then there are days which are absolutely shitty. Buddy, you have me, you have Gen, you have the other guys. We will always have your back, brother", Jensen tightened his embrace around Jared. Jared nodded. He knew Jared needed that comforting touch. He had to let Jared know that he was not a burden. He knew he had to let Jared know that he was not alone. Jensen's blood started to boil when he thought about those petty fans on twitter. His best friend didn't deserve those hateful comments.

"Jay?" Jared let go of Jensen's hug.

"Hm? What?" He looked at Jared.

"Don't kill anyone tonight", a tiny smile appeared on Jared's face.

"Smartass", Jensen rolled his eyes, a tiny smile playing on his lips too.

Forever taglist - @donnaintx @devil-in-my-boots @amandamdiehl

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