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sserpente · 4 years

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A/N: October fluff! Request from @jokersqueenofchaos. Enjoy! 🍂🍁🍂🍁🍂

Words: 1372 Warnings: pure fluff

Loki sighed, for the third time in a row now. You had learned the hard way that if there was something weighing heavy on his heart but he was yet unwilling to speak plainly about it, he would react hissing like a cat trying to protect her kittens.

His sighs suited the crisp autumn air, every step you both took causing the dry leafs to your feet to crunch as you ruffled through them with your boots.

The last time Loki was on a peaceful stroll had been before he had known he was a Frost Giant. He had told you he would go picking flowers and plants with Frigga for potions and healing creams—and you were surprised by how well he knew the vegetation on this planet. If anything, he knew the trees and plants better than you did. It was almost a little embarrassing but then again, despite of what you had heard about the incidents in New York, he had never treated you in a condescending way.

“Loki, what’s wrong? You keep sighing like your life depends on it.”

He smiled faintly. “Perhaps it does.” He sounded sad too, melancholic almost.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Would it help?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Sometimes you feel better if you confide in someone.”

He chuckled. “And I suppose you should be the person I confide in?” It was strange, having these normal conversations with him, both for him and you. But you would not deny how nice it felt to be chatting to him like that—without any suspicion, fear or mistrust. Besides, so you figured, Loki needed more reasons to laugh.

“Yes. And if you don’t, I will throw…” You looked around, spotting the leave pile a garden caretaker must have raked not so long ago. “…those leafs at you!” You concluded, raising an eyebrow in a both threatening and playful manner.

Loki raised both of his in response. “Will you now?”

“Would you like to find out?”

His laugh was short-lived. “Look…” He began suddenly then. Your heart skipped a beat. “It has been almost ten months since the destruction of Asgard. I wonder… what is my purpose here?” His tone was bitter, making you frown.

“Purpose? What do you mean?”

“Thor took me here presuming the humans would just accept me. After everything that happened I was naïve enough to believe that would be the case.” Swallowing thickly, you looked up at him, compassion spreading in your veins. “In the end, I did exactly what I swore to myself I would never do again—run after my brother and his affection like a lapdog.

“And for what? They all despise me on this planet. I do not blame them. Nor do I particularly care. I do not, however, see why I would while away my life in a place I am not welcome in.”

“I like you.” You suggested, a sheepish smile playing on your lips. Heavens, you had known how unwelcome Loki felt here on Earth. No matter where you went, the looks he received were almost unbearable, not to mention the way the Avengers, especially Tony, treated him. But this? In fact, there was an elderly lady walking her dog a few feet from you right now too, seemingly disturbed at the sight of Loki enjoying the light autumn breeze in the park despite the more or less casual clothes he was wearing.

Removing your hands from your warm pockets, you stepped in front of him, hindering him from walking on. And much to your surprise, Loki reciprocated your smile.

“Yes. You do. Yet I am unable to tell whether you genuinely like me or merely pity me.” He paused. He sounded so insecure it almost broke your heart. You did pity him, in a way. But that was not why you spent time with him—quite on the contrary. You admired him for his strength and cockiness. The thing about Loki was that he never showed his fear, always hid his weaknesses. He was incredibly smug about you wanting to be around him and preferring his company over Thor’s in front of the Avengers but whenever the two of you were alone together… whether he wished to or not, you knew he did not understand why you would be with him voluntarily.

“I found myself considering leaving.” He said.

Your face fell. “Leaving? Leaving where? A-another country?”

“Another planet, actually. Jötunheim, perhaps. I am the rightful king of this realm. I could make true what I had promised after all—that I would restore Jötunheim to its former glory.” His blue gaze started to drift away, making your heart beat even faster.

“But… W-what about me?”

Loki frowned, seemingly confused as his eyes locked with yours again. “What about you?”

“Can I come?”

“Jötunheim is hardly a safe place for a mortal like you, my dear.” Once more, he paused and then added, “Why would you want to join me in the first place?”

“No one should have to be alone, Loki. And you’re gonna have to accept that you’re stuck with me. If you’re going, I’m coming.”

He hesitated. “You are not. It’s too dangerous. I will have no time to babysit a mortal.”

“Hey!”

“Jötuns are savage, my dear. Their laws do not care for personal space or basic human rights.”

“Well, if you are going to be king, you can just change those laws.” He chuckled in response—it was a sound which made pleasant shivers run up and down your spine.

“Promise me you will at least think about it. In the meantime, I’ll tell no soul you are thinking about leaving.”

Loki sighed—for the fourth time now. “Very well. I promise.”

“Good.” It was then you bent down, gathering a few dry leafs in your hands. They crunched a little as you picked them up and then threw them at his face. Loki blinked.

“What was that for? I did tell you, did I not?” You could tell he was trying hard to appear irked by your vicious attack—instead, he cracked a cheeky smirk.

“And you believed me?!” You cried out, feigning shock in your voice. “Come on, Trickster. It’s October. Time for some Halloween mischief.”

Loki looked up at you—and it was in this very moment that you realised just why he had been such an intimidating villain back in New York.

“Run.” He growled darkly, making your heart beat faster. You giggled, then spun around on your heels and legged it, laughing out loud in the process. Before you could even make it more than ten feet away from him, leafs began to rain down on you—and there were so many of them you were, unceremoniously, swarmed by them to the point you lost your orientation. Screaming and laughing all at the very same time. It was more than just obvious that he was using magic for his sweet revenge but before you could once more spin around and complain, Loki, appearing out of nowhere, wrapped his arms around your waist, sweeping you off your feet and throwing you straight into the pile of leafs.

You landed softly, with his strong body still tightly against yours. When his warm breath brushed against the back of your neck, you shivered. The sound of his blithe laugh warmed your heart.

“Hey… let’s head home, make a fire and roast some sweet potatoes and marshmallows. Actually, we could also pick up some sweet chestnuts from the store on our way back.”

Loki raised an eyebrow, making you realise just how close his face was to yours right now. For a brief moment, you simply admired his features—the high cheekbones, the sharp jawline, the long dark eyelashes, the thin lips, the mesmerising blue eyes with mischief sparkling in them—Loki was not only handsome. He was downright beautiful.

“If I get to light the fire…” He eventually responded, his smile devilish.

The old lady who must have been watching you alarmed ever since you had let out that scream almost fainted when you leaned forward and gently kissed the God of Mischief on the cheek, watching his face light up like a Christmas tree.

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you considered supporting me on Kofi! Caffeine is essential as a writer, I guess. And red wine. A lot of red wine. ko-fi.com/sserpente

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sirisuorionblack · 3 years

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One Spanish latte

Sirius Black x Reader

Summary - The one time where (Y/N) was soo naïve and got an internship, and that led to three roommates and that led to one love. (Muggle AU)

Warnings - None.

"Gods," I groaned, taking hold of my best friend - Angelina's arm, "It's so cold,"

"Yeah," she shivered, pulling her coat tighter, "but it's your fault, I told you to get a better jacket!"

"And I told you this is the best I have,"

"OK, you two," my other best friend - Lily intervened, "Look at Jane she is going to make a fool of herself"

We, ten 17-year-olds with two teachers had come to London for an internship at the Black Industries.

"Lily! She is not making a fool of herself she is making a fool of us all!" I exclaimed as I watched her catch fight with a group of boys whom she initially intended to flirt with.

"OK, imma head there and solve it, that's too embarrassing to watch," I said and the two girls beside me rolled their eyes.

I dived before Jane and a boy who was the most annoyed by her, he had shoulder-length luscious hair, sharp jaws, high cheekbones and striking grey eyes overall this guy was the definition of handsome. No wonder why she started to flirt.

"Um, uh," I coughed, breaking myself from the trance as well as what seems to be him too. I glanced at her best friend silently demanding her to contain her friend.

"Uh, I am really sorry for that," I managed to stutter out, feeling slightly intimidated.

"Well, just tell your friend not to do something like...this always," said a boy, with hazel eyes, messy raven black hair as if it could never be tamed and round glasses.

Feeling embarrassed I looked away before the grey-eyed boy who was still staring at me said, "It's alright, mate,"

He then outstretched his hand "My name is Sirius, nice meeting you,"

My eyes wide at his introduction, "Hello, uh, Sirius,"

He smirked, "And you are?" Not wanting to tell him my name, I find the situation rather too awkward for my comfort zone. Before I could answer him one of my teachers had called me, "(Y/N) come on fast!"

He smirked as I pursed my lips, throwing him one last glance, I rushed to the other side.

That was 3 weeks before, now including both of my best friends and I had gotten the internship in the Black Industries, today was the last day our teachers and classmates would be here before they had to leave back home. With one final trip to the coffee shop, they were off to their home.

Once we had settled down in the far corner, the waiter had come to take our order. I was shocked would be an understatement when I saw the same handsome boy - Sirius - I had a run-in with. He had a smirk on his face as he saw my shocked face and asked for the order.

"And for you, ma'am?" He finally asked me, the smirk still present on his face; though he never took his eyes off the notepad I had a deep intuition that he knew I was staring.

"Uh, um," I cleared my throat, "one tall iced caramel macchiato,"

He noted looking back at me and winked, "Coming right back,"

He walked back with a slight jump in his steps and as he went behind the counter I could see him whispering to the bespectacled boy that I had seen other day and another one - tuft brown curls, warm hazel eyes, a scar running down his face and we could classify him as cute but definitely not my type.

A nudge to my arm woke me up from my trance, "What are you doing, (N/N)?" Angelina asked, a smirk in her face.

"Shut it," I grumbled.

"So where are your dorms?" One of my teachers asked.

"What?" I asked puzzled, "Dorms?"

"Yes, the Black Industries provide you dorms. But you said you didn't want it though,"

"What!?" I asked annoyed and angry, "I was never even informed about dorms!"

"Yes, we had informed you, giving a form for you to fill and you said you didn't want,"

I had a snicker from the other side of the table, "Jane!? You did it, didn't you!?"

She had a smirk on her face as I looked away exasperated, "Oh my goodness,"

I stood up, the anger shooting up to my head but Angelina knowing me better than myself pushed me away from the table and muttered, "Its OK. Don't give in, that's what she wants."

"Well, I have no roof over my head now and that because of her,"

"They won’t compensate for it now besides if you do anything now, you have a maximum chance of losing the internship,"

I groaned and walked to the counter trying to calm myself down and forget the fact I am basically homeless now, "Um, hey," I called out to Sirius who seemed to be the only other person there along with the cute boy.

His eyes widened, "Yes?"

"Can I change my order?"

"What? Uh yeah. What do u want?"

"One Spanish latte,"

"Hot or cold?"

"Hot,"

He passed the order to the guy next to him - Remus, after I had seen his badge - who had grumbled something under his breath and left inside.

"What happened?"

"Huh?"

"You know, you look kinda mad,"

I scoffed, "oh, do I now?"

"I mean," he shrugged, "You look hot when you're mad"

"Woah! That's a big step to take,"

He shrugged once again, "Anyways, is everything alright there?"

"Nah, I actually got an internship and they allot us dorms if we want and some random girl meddled in my business and now I am homeless,"

He chuckled and I glared at him. "Dude, it's not funny,"

He put his hands up in the air, mocking surrender, "You could share your friends' dorms,"

"No, their dorms are full," I groaned looking away, "These people, gods!"

"Um," Sirius glanced at the other boy (James - from the badge again) a conversation sparking with their eyes and then he slid a visiting card across the counter, "you can call that number, perhaps you can get a room,"

"Thanks," I looked at the card and then back at him, "Thank you very much,"

"Uh, if you don't mind me asking, where are you doing the internship?"

Taking the coffee in my hands, and shooting Remus a grateful look, I turned back to Sirius, "Black Industries"

His eyes widened and he choked on nothing while James had burst out laughing behind him.

"This will be your room from now on and remember no exchange!" The house owner had warned strictly before rushing away.

Looking at the path he disappeared with wide eyes and a frown, I turned around fumbling in my bag trying to find the keys though before I could even fetch out my keys the door unlocked automatically...by someone in!

"Sirius!?" I exclaimed, staring at his "innocent" demeanor.

"You remember me!" He grinned, throwing an arm around me and dragging me inside the flat, "I am really sorry but you have to share a room with us,"

"First of all - Us!?! Is there more of you," I asked.

"Yes!" A chorus was heard, making me jump as I turned to see Remus and James.

"We live here too," said James.

Remus outstretched his hand waiting for me to shake it, "Welcome," he said calmly.

"What the hell!? Are you kidding me!? You lot could be criminals for all I know!"

Sirius gasped dramatically, "how can you!?" He moved to stand in front of me, his hands stretched beneath his chin, "do I look like a criminal?"

I couldn't help but let out a small giggle and nod, “but I still am not gonna stay with the three of you!”

“Oh come on!” Sirius said, as he moved behind me, taking hold of my shoulders as he whispered in the tone of villains trying to manipulate, “something is better than nothing,”

And lets just say he was good at that, “Fine, but promise me, no funny business,”

“We promise!”

Did I know in the tiniest bit that we would become thick friends something similar to what I had between my best friends yet there was a small gap between Sirius and me; the relation between the two of us was different from that I shared with James and Remus, something that I couldn't identify, something that included longing stares, lots of forehead kisses, a huge variety of nicknames and hugs lasting longer than normal friends but I still didn't know Sirius' last name, he never allowed me to see it either.

"Love!" Sirius hollered from the kitchen, "(Y/N)! Come here fast!"

"Oh my gods! Yeah! C 'mere!" Remus's voice joined.

"What happened!?" I asked frantically, running into the room only to see the pan on the stove on fire, Sirius holding a jug of water and about to pour.

"No! Don't do it!"

It all happened in a slow-motion, he poured the water on the burning pan and the fire grew, hitting the ceiling and burning it.

"Oh, my gods!" I exclaimed, running a hand through my hair and rushing to the kitchen.

"Dude..." I breathed, turning to look at Sirius, "What the-?"

I chuckled, "You are useless at kitchen, idiot,"

I didn't notice how rapidly his smile slipped, and his breath quickened, what I noticed was however the way he sprinted to his room as if hiding something.

I stared after him not knowing what I did wrong, 'idiot' was something I used in a normal instance. I turned to look at Remus, my eyes blown wide, "Did I do something wrong?"

"Uh," he looked around confused, "You kinda did, but it's alright, I will take care,"

"What did I do wrong?" I asked, afraid I had made a grave mistake.

"No, nothing, actually," he said, quickly wrapping an arm around me and rushing back into Sirius' room.

A week later things were back to normal (as normal as it could become) my friends were coming to our home. Yeah, that's what this was, my home.

A knock on the door alerted their arrival. I smirked at Remus, "She is here,"

Remus pursed his lips a light blush on his cheek, "shut up" he grumbled, walking to the door.

"Ooh," James cooed, "Eager are we?"

You see, Remus has quite developed a crush on my best friend Angelina but as everyone does, he denied it.

After the exchange of greetings and loads of chat later, we resigned to the couch in front of the TV with pizzas and cokes.

"What movie do you guys want?" I asked. The rest of the people in the room started going on with the suggestions, denying for almost everything until, "Fault in our stars," James, I scrunched my eyebrows looking at him before he glanced at Remus and Angelina. My mouth formed an 'o' shape as he grinned.

Squeezing the two of them together on the couch I sat next to Sirius who had an arm draped around the back of the couch which looked more like around my shoulder.

The movie - well, had gone...good. But the plan, it was sailing in the right path with such a speed. Within minutes into the movie, Remus's arm was around Angelina's shoulder, her head leaning on his shoulder.

I turned around to look at Sirius, who seemed to be watching the same scene beside me and as I turned our faces were so close my nose was almost touching his. He stared into my eyes, my breath quickened as we slowly leaned in before the door bell rang loudly startling the both of us and pulling away with bright red cheeks.

Sirius groaned lightly standing up and walking to the door and opening it. There was a courier at 11 PM. Sirius' eyes widened looking at the man before him and as I noticed closely it had the logo of the Black Industries.

"Mr Black," the man nodded as my breath hitched and Sirius shot me a worried glance before turning back to the courier, "Your mother asked to deliver this,"

Sirius' breath once again came ragged as he took the parcel in his hands and closed the door.

I stared at him dumbfounded as he looked back at me, his grey orbs holding an almost fear. I cocked my head to the side, "Mr Black?"

He looked away, fiddling with the parcel in his arms. With a few long strides, I was in front of him, "You are a Black?" I asked again.

He shook his head, "I was a Black," he chuckled without any humour in it, "I am disowned,"

My shoulders dropped. He was disowned. Repeated in my head. I had missed such a major part of his life. I took hold of his hand, gently guiding him to my room and shutting the door, not caring about how disrespectful it was to my friends but they would understand and this was way more important to me.

He sat on my bed, the parcel still in his hands. I moved to kneel before him, taking away the parcel and keeping it on the bedside table and encased his hands into mine, "Why didn't you tell me?" I asked gently.

Sirius' bottom lip quivered as he looked around my room, trying not to let the tears in his eyes fall. It broke my heart, the always cheerful Sirius was now looking so vulnerable. I let out a ragged breath, placing my hand on his cheek and swiping my thumb below his eyes.

"She disowned me, my sweet old mother. Said I was a disappointment, useless traitor, betrayed the family name for being friends with "common people" as she likes to call. I didn't make any mistakes. I just wanted to be free, I just wanted a family that will love me; not order me. I was scared, love, I was scared that if I told you, would start hating me or even worse...leave me an-and decide you don't wanna be friends with me."

By now tears were cascading his cheek like a waterfall and stung my eyes.

"No, no, no, Sirius, I would never leave you," I said, furiously wiping my tears and pulling him into my arms, "I could never leave you, Sirius, I swear. I love you,"

He pulled away, "Huh? You love me...?"

I nodded rapidly, placing a long kiss to his forehead, "I love you,"

He wiped his tears and beamed at me and chuckled excited, repeating, "You love me, she loves me," to himself. He repeated that so often that it was painful to even hear.

So, I smashed my lips against his, shutting him up and the force pushing both of us onto the bed. He kissed me back with the same amount of passion. Smoke and lemon mixing with strawberry and creating a new taste, sending us to a state of pure bliss.

I pulled away, still laying on top of him, both our lips swelled from the kiss and wide grins.

Sirius turned us around so that he was hovering above me, my hands on his chest and his forearms resting on the bed holding him upright. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ears, "I love you too," he muttered before crashing his lips onto mine once again.

#sirius black x reader #marauders #sirius orion black #sirius x reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #Remus lupin x platonic!reader #James Potter x platonic!reader #Remus lupin x OC #sirius black

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banditthewriter · 4 years

Text

Trust Is Earned - Charles Vane - 6

Here we are at part 6! Thanks to everyone for their reactions to this story. I’m enjoying reading your theories.

Warning: Descriptions of violence and torture

*gif not mine*

Enjoy!

------

There had been plenty of noise from the front of the shop but you ignored it in favor of working on the dress you had bought the fabric for. As you started to work on the stitching around the hem, you heard voices rise sharply. One familiar voice brought you out of your rooms and into the shop immediately.

Just outside of the door to the shop, which was barely open a crack, was Billy Bones trying to strong arm his way past four of The Ranger crew.

“What in God’s name is going on here? Release him this instant,” you demanded as you pushed past the men that were surrounding Billy.

“The captain told us to stop anyone from coming into the shop,” one of the men said indignantly as you shoved at his arm.

“Oh did he? Well perhaps he meant anyone that means me harm and I promise that The Walrus boatswain does not mean me harm. Let him pass.”

The men obviously didn’t want to disobey Vane but you could be intimidating when you wanted to be. They must have collectively decided it would be easier to explain to Vane than it was to stop you because they released Billy and let him follow you into the shop.

They didn’t let you shut the door though.

With the four of them just outside of the shop, you directed Billy to follow you into your rooms. God help the man that tried to storm into your private living space without your permission.

“I thought The Walrus was out on a hunt.”

“We were. Caught an easy prize on the way to our lead, needed to bring the perishables back to Nassau before we go back out.�� After a beat of barely there silence, “Why the fuck are four gunners from The Ranger repairing your front door?”

“Possibly because their captain was the one that originally broke the front door,” you said as you went over to where your dress was waiting for you.

“Never mind that. What the fuck happened to your face?”

Ever the eloquent gentleman. You reached up and touched the swollen skin around your eye before you turned back to Billy.

“Nothing for you to worry about,” you said evenly. “Would you like some tea? I might have some rum hidden somewhere if that’s–”

“Stop with the pleasantries and tell me what the fuck is going on Y/N.”

You rubbed the bridge of your nose as you turned away from Billy. This conversation had been inevitable but you had thought you’d have a little more time to figure out a way to put it succinctly.

“I was attacked. Captain Vane has loaned me some of his men until the culprits have been… dealt with.”

Billy marched across the room and grabbed your arm, pulling you around to face him.

“Did he do this to you? Is that why you’re scared? Is he holding you prisoner here?”

You shook your head sadly.

“That’s a lot of questions Billy,” you admonished softly, knowing you needed to get him to calm down before he made a serious mistake. “No, Captain Vane didn’t do this to me, no I’m not scared of him, and no I’m not being held prisoner in my own home. Like I said, they are keeping me safe.”

Billy reached up to touch your face, the corner of your mouth where the split lip was starting to heal. Then he reached down to check under the cloth around your neck. You watched as fury crossed his face at the sight.

“Who did this to you?”

You tried to push his hand away from your neck but he wouldn’t budge.

“I have already said that it’s being dealt with. I don’t need you to run off half cocked and make things worse.”

You hadn’t meant to say that, but the words came out in a rush anyways. Billy’s fingers tightened on the edge of the cloth around your neck until you could feel the strain of it against the back of your neck.

“This is his fault, isn’t it? Vane. No one would have a reason to go after you, you’re just a candle maker. It has to be his fault.”

A laugh poured from your lips at that. You weren’t sure why you were laughing, because he had called you just a candle maker or because he blamed Vane when the events of late could all be traced back to Billy’s decision to bring Silver to your shop.

Either way, you laughed until your lips hurt. Billy had loosened his grip on the cloth, surprised by your sudden onset of mirth. Then his hand went around the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair.

“I’ve heard what they’ve said on the beach about you and him. I know it’s bullshit, I just don’t know why you’re going along with it. What does he have over you? I can help you, you know that I can. I’ll take you to the beach, take you to The Walrus. We can have Eleanor Guthrie help us.”

You reached up and cupped Billy’s cheek, your smile sincere as you stared up at him. There had always been something so earnestly pure about Billy, pirate though he was. There was a softness about him that he let out around you, around anyone he cared about. It was that sweetness that you had attached to, to allow it to grow without realizing what it meant.

He was half in love with you and you didn’t feel the same. It wasn’t fair to him.

“What you’ve heard about us is simply how it is. I don’t need protection from him.”

Billy reached up to cover the hand you had on his face.

“He’s a monster Y/N.”

You opened your mouth to say that no, he was simply a pirate, but you didn’t have the chance. A different voice cut in instead.

“Is that right?”

Both you and Billy turned to the door where Vane stood. It probably wouldn’t have been such a shock if he hadn’t also been covered in blood with his sword still in hand.

Billy immediately pushed you behind him, his hand going to his hip but finding no sword to draw. You knew that you probably only had a short time to diffuse the situation before there was bloodshed. That in mind you carefully walked around Billy to place yourself between the two pirates.

“Billy, you need to leave. The Walrus needs you, it’ll be leaving soon for the hunt. Come now, I’ll walk you out.”

You gave Vane a glare but he merely raised an eyebrow as you grabbed Billy’s arm and began to pull him from your rooms. Billy went along, but you could feel some resistance. You had done right to mention his ship and the fact that the men needed him. Hopefully he was more duty bound to them than he was to you at that moment.

“Y/N, he’s–”

“I’m well aware of what he is, Billy Bones. Now you need to get back to your ship and I need to… get back inside. Please,” you added when it seemed that Billy wasn’t going to budge.

Finally he nodded and turned to leave. There weren’t any men outside of the shop anymore so perhaps Vane had dismissed them when he got there. As Billy made his way down the road and out of sight, you let out a sigh and shut the door to your shop. It closed easily, more locks added to the inside for you to use.

Once that was done, you took a deep breath and made you way back into your rooms.

Vane was at the water basin against the far wall, his hands turning the water pinkish and then red as he wiped off the dried blood there. It was also on his clothes, but that was a lost cause.

You walked over and grabbed a cloth that was usually used to dry one's hands. You dipped it into the water before you reached up to start to wipe the blood from his forehead first.

“The boatswain come to save you from the monster?”

You gave him a baleful stare before you continued your work.

“Because of the attack and things he finds to be impossible,” you said softly as you ran the cloth over the bridge of his nose and then across his cheekbone. “He’s not sure how these things are happening to just a candle maker.”

Vane’s hand reached up to grasp your wrist. He didn’t use his grasp to pull your hand away or to guide the movements. It was almost as if he just wanted to touch you.

“You’re not just a candle maker.”

Warmth filled you at those words, but you didn’t react. Instead you switched hands so that you could ring the rag out and start on the other side of his face.

“Am I to assume this is the blood of my attackers?”

“It’s not my own,” he said in a lilting voice, a tease. When you didn’t give him even a smile for the joke, he sighed. “It’s not Eleanor Guthrie’s either, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“It’d crossed my mind,” you admitted as you moved the cloth across his jaw and then down over his neck. “Do we know if it was her behind it?”

He pulled away from you at that. With a dry cloth in hand, he turned away and went over towards the fire.

“Found a promissory note on one of the men. Wasn’t signed, but it was her handwriting. I dropped it on her desk… in the hand of the man who had it.”

You closed your eyes at that confession. He’d dropped a severed hand on Eleanor Guthrie’s desk while standing covered in blood. It was a miracle he’d made it out alive.

Or maybe not a miracle. As much as Eleanor seemed to hate Vane, she never made the moves to actually rid herself of him. Perhaps you could understand why.

“I’m assuming that won’t end favorably.”

“I simply told her that an attack against you was an attack against me in my eyes and that if anyone else had concerns about my ability to lead my men, they would do best to bring those complaints to me directly.”

Days ago you had been assuring Eleanor that there was nothing going on between you and Vane and now he was dropping a bloodied hand on her desk and declaring the two of you to be some sort of unit.

You thought about how it was with Jack and Anne. They were both their own entities to be sure, Jack Rackham the quartermaster to The Ranger and Anne Bonny a feared and infamous pirate in her own right, but they were also a pair. It was Jack and Anne, Anne and Jack, rarely one without the other.

Is that what the future held for you and Vane? To be spoken of in the same breath even if you were alone. How many of your conversations or interactions lately had centered around your fictional attachment to the captain?

And that was the rub of it all. This was all happening due to a fiction that the two of you had created. You had a business partnership that was lucrative and profitable, but that was it.

You weren’t even sure you could consider Vane a friend.

“Thank you for what you did,” you finally said as you settled back down into the chair where you had been working on your dress. “I know that you didn’t do it for me but because it was a threat to you, but I’m still grateful that I won’t have to sleep with one eye open for now.”

Vane turned away from the fire and looked over at you. He tossed the cloth he had grabbed onto the table with the basin, not caring that it fell into the water. He took a few strides until he was in front of you. You watched as he reached out, those fingers gently caressing your cheek and down your jaw, much like you had done when you cleaned his face.

“Of course I did it for you.”

Those words were beyond unexpected. You could feel your body heat rising in reaction, butterflies erupting in your stomach. Before you had a chance to process the words, to even think about a response, he dropped his hand and headed over towards the door.

“I’ll keep at least one of my men here with you for a while, to make sure there won’t be any repercussions.”

He gave a quick nod in your direction and then he was gone.

And you? You were left with a mind swirling with things you weren’t sure you could ever truly figure out.

------

The garden had been long neglected so you decided to spend part of the day with your hands in the soil. The Ranger had been at sea for almost a week and it had been the most mundane week you’d had in months. People shopped, you made deliveries, you joined friends at the tavern for meals.

One difference is that you had a shadow for these things. The man that Vane had left with you was named Edgar. He was large and looked mean, but you’d found him to be the most polite pirate you’d had the pleasure of dealing with in a long time.

You refused to let him sleep outside and he refused to sleep on the couch in your front room so the compromise was a cot that he slept on in the shop. You made sure he ate, tried to make him leave your side to enjoy the whores at the brothel while you ate in the tavern, but he was a good sentry.

He stayed nearby while you tended to the garden, listening to you as you talked aloud to the plants and discussed the different uses for the herbs that you usually grew. Your neglect of the garden meant a lot of the plants looked unfit for use, but you were determined to fix your mistake.

“Hasn’t been enough rain for those,” a voice said from the other side of the fenced in garden you were in.

You looked up and smiled at Captain Flint who was looking at the proof of your hard work. Edgar edged around the garden while you stayed on your knees in the dirt, his hand on his side where his pistol was. You gave a brief shake of your head to call him off but you knew he wouldn’t stand down until Flint left.

“I’ve been remiss in my gardening habits,” you admitted as you looked around at your handiwork. “Are you much of a gardener?”

“I like to learn a little about a lot of different things,” he admitted as he fingered one of the tomato plants near the fence. “Do you sell from the garden or is it just for you?”

You stood up and dusted off your skirt as best you could.

“I sell some, but mostly it’s just for myself. This is a large garden and I’m just one person. Usually,” you said as you shot a look over at Edgar.

He didn’t seem to notice that you were talking about him.

“Your man. He’s one of Vane’s, isn’t he?”

You hadn’t had many interactions with Captain Flint, but the ones you’d had told you that he rarely asked a question if he didn’t have a good idea of the answer. You knew that no conversation with him was just one thing. He was always putting a double meaning in his words.

“He is.”

Flint looked from you to Edgar. You could see the calculating look on his face before he spoke next.

“Would he allow me to take you for a short walk?”

You were sure that he wouldn’t like it, but you had an idea.

“Of course. Edgar, you’ll watch the shop while I walk with Captain Flint, won’t you?”

Edgar was already shaking his head but you hurried around the fence to where Flint was standing.

“Surely I’ll be safe with Captain Flint. It’ll be up to you to keep the shop safe in my absence.”

The men of The Ranger knew that you were the reason they were making the money they made currently so they knew it was in their best interest to keep you and your shop safe. Plus Vane had made the demand so it was to be followed to the letter.

In this case, you had boxed the man in. He couldn’t say no without causing a scene and he wasn’t aware that it wasn’t particularly necessary to keep the shop open.

Plus you didn’t think it would matter much if Edgar was with you or not. If Flint wanted to kill you or kidnap you, there was likely not much one man alone could do. Edgar obviously knew that because he gave a nod to you and stepped back.

Flint offered you his arm and you accepted it gratefully. He had an air about him, the same one that made you think he was part of the Navy before he came to Nassau. The residual air of a gentleman made him a good choice for Eleanor Guthrie’s favorite pirate. At least now that she wasn’t sleeping with Vane.

“Is there a reason that Vane is keeping one of his best in the vanguard here to watch your shop?”

You knew that accepting his offer to take a walk would leave you open to an inquiry like this. While you couldn’t be sure what he was planning, you were confident that you could keep up with him.

“I was attacked a week ago. He left his man with me for protection, but like I said, I’m sure I’ll be safe with you today.”

It was a pointed jibe that he didn’t respond to. Instead he directed you down the winding path that led from the store and towards the beach.

“It does make me wonder how you plan on continuing the act of being neutral if you’re sharing a bed with Charles Vane.”

Gone was that gentlemanly air, replaced by the steel of the pirate captain that everyone in Nassau knew and feared. You tried to subtly pull your arm from his grasp but he didn’t let you. Instead he tugged you down the path a little harder.

“It’s not an act, Captain Flint, and who I’m sharing a bed with doesn’t change that. I think you’ll remember that I shared a bed with one of your crew for the last few years and yet you had no qualms about my ability to be neutral then, did you?”

It might not have been the best plan to antagonize the man, but you weren’t happy with this particular line of questioning. From others, maybe, but from someone on The Walrus? From this captain? It angered you enough that you forgot that you could very well be in trouble.

Your free hand went to your pocket where the dagger that Vane had given you sat. Hopefully you wouldn’t need to use it today.

“The difference as best as I can tell is that you were merely sleeping with my boatswain. This affair with Vane is a different sort.”

It wasn’t the first time you’d heard something like that either. What was it about Vane that made people think that this wasn’t just a casual thing between the two of you? People heard that you and Vane were intimate and they assumed wedding bells. Or something permanent at least.

“I assure you that what I have with Vane, while none of your business, is as casual as what I had with Billy.”

The two of you stopped and you looked forward to see where you were. You hadn’t noticed that you had been leading off the main path and towards the trees until that moment. In front of you strung from a large tree were two men, naked as the day they were born.

Their bodies were starting to decompose, animals picking at the corpses. They were both beaten beyond recognition, their bodies mutilated horribly. Across each of their chests was carved the word ‘revenge’.

You gasped and looked away.

“Casual. If this is what Vane does for a casual dalliance, I’d hate to see him seriously involved.”

Flint came in from behind you, but he didn’t hurt you. He simply gripped your chin and forced you to look at the bodies again.

“Recognize them? I’d understand if you can’t since their faces have been caved in. They were members of the crew of The Tempest. They’re the men that attacked you.”

You saw that one of them indeed only had one hand. The other had been deposited on Eleanor’s desk.

Flint wasn’t here for you. He wasn’t here for Billy or for the members of The Tempest, not even really here for Vane. He was here because of what happened with Eleanor.

He needed to protect his source of income, just like Vane did with you.

“Your concern has been noted,” you said fiercely as you pulled your chin out of his grasp. Then you did more and took a step away from him, from the bodies. “Perhaps this conversation would be better had with Vane instead of with me as I’m not in control of his actions.”

Not that you actually expected the two of them to ever sit down to talk. Flint and Vane were at odds more often than not. They had in common that they were pirate captains in Nassau, but that was the end of it. From there the two men were almost as different as night and day, if both were as dark as midnight and dangerous as a pit of vipers.

Maybe they did have more in common than you originally thought.

“I am going to go back to my shop before Edgar decides to see what is taking me so long on this walk. As always, Captain Flint, it’s been a pleasure.”

You didn’t want to turn your back on him but you didn’t have any choice. It took every ounce of your willpower not to turn and look behind you. Instead you walked with purpose back up the street and towards your shop.

Edgar was still where you had left him. When you walked past him with the intention of going into the shop for a moment to regain your composure, he grabbed your arm and pulled you close to him.

“If you do something like that again, I’ll lock you in your shop until the captain gets back.”

You glared up at him and yanked your arm out of his grip.

“You could try but I promise it would not end well for you. And if you put your hands on me again without my permission, I’ll gladly bury a dagger into your throat. That is the only warning you’ll get from me.”

You stormed away from Edgar and into the shop, slamming the door and locking it as well.

Then you fell to your knees in the middle of the floor, desperate to catch the breath that seemed to have been knocked out of you weeks ago.

How had things gotten so out of hand?

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#charles vane #charles vane x reader #charles vane imagine #charles vane fanfic #black sails imagine #my writing #trust is earned

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everykindofnerd13 · 4 years

Text

“Okay so next, there’s,” Bianca was cut off by the newcomer.

“Wait!” He exclaimed grabbing her arm before they could leave the Hades cabin.

“What?” She asked.

“There are two floors right?” Bianca nodded.

“Uh, so can you show me the upstairs?” He asked her.

“No.” She answered simply and turned around.

“Ah! Why not?” He asked and she glared at him.

“You showed me the upstairs and all the other ones!” He complained. She sighed and shook her head.

“Artemis give me strength...” she muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose, “Nico’s room is upstairs.” She explained, hoping the curious kid would drop it.

“So this kid gets a room all to himself!?” He asked, as if it affected him.

“Yes he does, he lives alone in the cabin practically year round, the only other children of Hades being myself and Hazel. I am a Lady of the Hunt and therefore spend most of my time with them. Hazel is a daughter of Pluto technically and stays either in New Rome or at Camp Jupiter most the time. Plus Nico designed the cabin himself, and if there aren’t going to be people there year-round with him, why should he have to share a space with no one?” The kid’s eyes widened and he nodded quickly. Bianca nodded back and they started off toward the arena.

“Well, she handled that better than expected...” Percy muttered from his place in Nico’s lap where they were looking through the tinted windows down to where Bianca was talking to the kid. In reality, Percy and Nico weren’t yet out to the camp. Well, Nico was out as gay, and it was rather obvious that Percy was at least queer to everyone so there wasn’t anything really bad that could happen, but no one knew the two were dating but Nico’s sisters, their significant others, and the duo’s closest friends. That list consisted of Bianca, Hazel, Tyson, Thalia, Frank, Leo, Ella, Lou Ellen, Will, Cecil, Ethan, Alabaster, Jason, Reyna, Annabeth, Piper, Grover, Rachel, and lastly, and surprisingly Clarisse. But over the more recent years, Percy had grown incredibly close to the daughter of Ares, and both were very protective of eachother nowadays. Though their frankly aggressive and borderline toxic bickering never faltered.

“Yeah, she knows the feeling of having a terrible secret though...” Nico explained and Percy glared playfully.

“A terrible secret? Gods, Di Angelo, if I’d known you hated me I wouldn’t have entered a relationship with you.” He joked and Nico pouted and pushed Percy back onto his bed so that he could lay on top of the older demigod.

“Shut up Gattino, we both know I cherish our relationship immensely.” Percy smiled and began carding his fingers through Nico’s hair to soothe him. He knew it was true. Nico had been crushing on Percy for almost 5 years by the time they figured stuff out and got together. Nico treated Percy practically as if he were a god himself, which to be fair, he was. But so was Nico.

“Of course little vampire. I’m completely aware, it’s a wonder you haven’t instructed Annabeth to construct a temple for my worship.” He joked and Nico hummed on his chest.

“Maybe that would be a good idea, si?” Nico asked and Percy made a confused noise in the back of his throat.

“A temple, on my family’s property in Italia. Just for you. And just for me.” Nico said, causing Percy to laugh.

“Neeks, I love you, but you are a broke child and Annabeth does absolutely nothing for free.” Percy pointed out and Nico raised an eyebrow.

“Principe Marino, you are dating a fellow god, of not only Heroic deaths, but also,” Nico kissed Percy’s jaw, “Fortuna di Famiglia.” Nico pointed out and Percy had to laugh at himself. Right, of course, being a son of Hades, Nico was now the god of Heroic deaths and family fortune. Meaning, because of god magic, the money left to him by his grandmama would never run out.

“Well, Neeks, if you’re so rich and prosperous, maybe we should also construct a temple for my worshipment of you.” Percy suggested as he pulled Nico up to kiss his nose.

“Mmm, no, you’re the only one worthy of worship. You’re all tall and muscular and... hot!” Nico explained then sat up, straddling his boyfriend’s waist and lookin down at him.

“Oh?” Percy asked and Nico nodded pointedly.

“First off, you’re skin. It’s gorgeous, golden, sun kissed, beautiful. It’s clear and you’re pretty. Then your hair, which I love, is all fluffy and black and soft and messy, and you always look like you’ve just rolled out of bed.” Nico explained and Percy was blushing now. Nico ignored him and continued, “And you’re eyes, god! Percy your eyes!” Nico let out a downright dirty groan, “Perseus Jackson, you have the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. They’re literally the color of sea foam, and they just remind me of the beach near my home in Venice.” Nico explained. Percy’s eyes softened and his heart swelled at the happy but mournful smile that spread across Nico’s features.

“Plus, not to mention, you’re built like a Greek god.” Nico joked and reached under Percy’s shirt to grope his boyfriend’s abs. Percy flushed and shoved Nico away to fall back on the bed.

“Well, Ghost King, you’re not much different, you’ve filled out since I first met you,” Nico laughed.

“I hit puberty Blu Bello,” he pointed out, which caused Percy to laugh.

“Well, you’re a hottie now Nico. You completely skipped the awkward phase and went from cute little kid to hot teenager in 6 months. You’ve got beautiful cheekbones that are quite honestly my weakness and you’re skin is so soft, and pretty and pale, and your hair is long enough for me to play with the ends when we kiss and you’re lips are super soft because they’ve never been used by anyone but me which is a great feeling. And you’re short. Which makes me feel good about myself considering we’re surrounded by Giants at this stupid camp.” Nico laughed and shoved Percy again.

“ Rude!” He shouted then pulled Percy down to his level and kissed him, the kiss slowly becoming more heated as time passed. After a while the boys were heavily making out, only to be rudely interrupted by Will Solace.

“Ew!” He shouted and shielded his eyes while Nico reluctantly and resentfully pulled away from his boyfriend to glare over at his bestfriend.

“Can I help you Solace? I’m kinda busy,” he complained. Will huffed and glared back at him while Percy flushed dark red.

“I’m here to swipe your water-bound boyfriend because there are some younger Hephaestus kids who want to go swimming but Beckendorf, Leo, and Jake are all busy and we know that none of the others are gonna leave the forges.” Nico groaned annoyed and fell forward onto Percy’s chest, wrapping his arms and legs around his boyfriend possessively. Percy laughed at his boyfriends antics and sat up, only for Nico to whine helplessly then flip Solace off.

“F**k you Solace, watch the fire brats yourself this is my boyfriend time.” Nico whined, still koala attaching himself to Percy who was sitting up with Nico in his lap, not even attempting to push the gremlin off.

“Whatever Di Angelo, I don’t like getting wet and you know it,” Will countered, earning himself a glare from Nico.

“Fine, if you manage, watch what I do next time I know you and Jake are enjoying your rare time alone together. I’ll march right up and start talking about how incredible Percy is, and you will only be able to focus on Percy while trying to make out with your boyfriend? How’s that gonna feel asshole?” Will sighed in defeat and sent Nico his patented mom look, expecting it to work like normal, but Nico stood his ground defiantly, which Will supposed was fair. Percy really enjoyed watching the kids so he had classes basically all day, this was his two hours without classes, aka when he spent time with Nico. Will shook his head defeated and left Nico’s cabin.

“Neeks,” Percy started to argue only for Nico to turn his glare on him.

“No, absolutely not, this is the only time of day that I get to have you all to myself because all of your friends are also busy and I’m not and you aren’t, I don’t wanna go down to beach and sit a respectable amount of room apart so that you can make sure no over eager kids who can’t wait until one of your life guard hours drown.” Percy sighed in defeat and pulled Nico back down on top of him to continue to kiss him heatedly, instantly brightening the ghost king’s mood. Nico hummed into the kiss and held onto his boyfriend like he was Nico’s lifeline.

After a few minutes, the boys were forced to break, again, when there was a knock at the door. Nico groaned in annoyance but Percy nudged him away to go answer the door. Nico huffed as he pulled away and looked in the mirror to fix his hair and clothes back. The knock came again but louder and Nico groaned again, but quietly and went to answer the door. Outside there was standing a decidedly uninvited demigod that Nico didn’t recognize.

“Can I help you?” He asked annoyed and the kid looked slightly intimidated. Typically Nico was reasonably nice to the kids at camp, but when they came knocking at his cabin door while he was obviously trying to be alone it was rather annoying.

“Uh, I was looking for Percy...” the kid muttered and Nico looked at him suspiciously.

“What do you want from him?” He asked quite rudely.

“Um, we wanted to go swimming and we kinda need him in order to do so.” Nico only glared at the probably 12 year old kid and huffed.

“Percy’s on his break right now, we’re in the middle of a board game, wait for another hour and we’ll be done and he’ll be back on his life guard duty.” Nico stated and the kid only swallowed and nodded. Nico returned to a grinning Percy who was waiting for Nico to return. The smaller demigod crawled into his boyfriends lap and began kissing his neck.

“Y’know, you should really be nicer to the younger campers,” Percy reasoned and Nico grunted in annoyance.

“They should really respect that you have to take breaks.” He countered and held onto Percy’s waist possessively as he kissed down to Percy’s collar bone.

“Hate to break it to you Ghost King, but I’m kinda a big deal around here.” Nico huffed in annoyance and leaned back to glare at his boyfriend.

“I am three seconds away from shadow traveling us to my room in the underworld,” Nico declared, causing Percy to snort and lean in to steal a chaste kiss. Which Nico quickly returned, and once again, the making out began.

And, once again, it was interrupted. It had gone on a little longer and to be fair it was more lazy, sleepy kisses, not full on handsy making out, but still, Nico was comfortable and enjoying Percy time.

“Nico Di Angelo I swear I’m gonna set you on fire if you treat my campers like that ever again!” Leo marched up Nico’s stairs loudly and angrily. He was met by a sight he probably could have lived without. Nico Di Angelo curled up on Percy’s chest, peppering kisses over his face.

“Leo Valdez if you enter my cabin and interrupt my Percy time like that ever again I will raise the cesarean army on you, what do you want?” Nico was becoming genuinely angry and at this point, raising the cesarean army didn’t sound like too bad an idea.

“I heard you grilled one of my campers,” Leo said, crossing his arms.

“You’re all fire-proof, it doesn’t matter if I grill any of you, but you’re right, he came here, only minutes after Will requesting to steal my Percy during my Percy time, and during Percy’s well deserved break so give your campers something to do other than swim for another 30 minutes while I enjoy cuddling with my boyfriend,” Nico was glaring daggers into Leo’s eyes who huffed in annoyance but left the cabin hastily.

“You’re so cute when you’re angry,” Percy purred as he pet Nico’s hair.

“You’re so cute when you’re not overworked,” Nico countered turning back to Percy.

“Mm, that’s fair,” he agreed and placed a soft kiss on Nico’s lips.

“I know it is Gattino,” Nico stated fondly and leaned into Percy’s chest to get comfortable. He continue pressing kisses all over Percy’s neck, only for a knock to sound at the door, which Percy nearly laughed at. Nico growled and tightened his hold on Percy, then proceeded to shadow travel them to his room in the underworld. Percy laughed as they hit the silky sheets.

“Nico, we can’t just stay here,” Percy reasoned and Nico shook his head.

“We can, and we will until further notice, you’re resting, I’m kissing, and we’re both trying to enjoy ourselves but people keep interrupting, so this is me, preventing that.” He then summoned Ms. O’ Leary and stationed her at his door to chase any of his family members who may try to invade his room away.

“I love you...” Percy muttered softly and kissed Nico, which Nico smiled at.

“I love you too.” With that he collapsed onto Percy’s chest and continued pressing kisses to Percy’s neck, while letting himself and Percy slowly fall into a slumber.

This time they were awoken by Melinoe, one of Nico’s half sisters.

“Nicolai!” She shouted, causing him to jump out of his sleep.

“It is 11 pm you stupid boys, you two have missed dinner and the bonfire and the Harpies are out.” Nico sighed in defeat and looked down at his sleepy boyfriend, he realised he didn’t really feel guilty, Percy needed sleep, and if taking him to the underworld had brought it, so be it.

“Fine fine, we’ll go, sorry Meli!” Nico exclaimed and grabbed Percy. He quickly shadow travelled them to Nico’s cabin and they both burst out laughing before Percy gasped.

“Did she say 11!?” He asked terrified.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry Perce...” Nico mumbled, feeling awful for accidentally pulling Percy from all his responsibilities.

“Well, Neeks, it’s not your fault we fell asleep or that we kept getting interrupted, I don’t blame you, I just wish we would have remembered.” Percy muttered as he pulled Nico up to cuddle him.

“Mm, still sorry, I’ll leave you alone tomorrow,” Nico explained and curled up to Percy.

“You most certainly will not, we’re eating lunch together and you’ll be waiting in your cabin as always tomorrow when I have my break, and we’re gonna cuddle and kiss and enjoy our time, and I’m not gonna drop you to go watch kids swim at the lake. Then I’m gonna go back to my job and then we’re gonna sit down and eat dinner together then watch Disney movies together and then you’ll shadow travel me back to my cabin we’ll go to sleep and repeat the cycle,” Percy was very demanding with his list of the routine the two boys had been retaining for the past few months.

“Okay, sounds good to me,” Nico agreed, snuggling into his boyfriend’s chest.

“Everyone’s gonna be stressed out tomorrow since we weren’t here before lights out,” Percy pointed out and Nico hummed in agreement.

“You wanna go tell Chiron or Annabeth?” Nico asked and Percy hummed.

“We should probably tell Annie, Chiron’s probably with the herd.” He suggested and wrapped his arms around Nico’s shoulders so they could shadow travel. After a few seconds the demigods were in the Athena cabin next to Annabeth’s bunk.

“Annie?” Percy asked as he knelt down next to her. She stirred slightly, and her brows furrowed before her eyes slowly fluttered open. She immediately sat up and wrapped her arms around Percy’s neck in a desperate hug.

“You’re not allowed to just disappear!” She whisper-shouted as she shoved him away and pointed at Nico.

“And you aren’t either! Will was so stressed!” She was still whisper-shouting and Nico’s ears heated up in embarrassment.

“I- we didn’t mean to, I got angry because we kept on getting interrupted so the fourth time someone came knocking on my cabin door, I just got fed up and brought us to the Underworld, then we fell asleep and Melinoe woke us up at 11 and I’m sorry!” Nico was apologizing a lot. He cared about Annabeth and Grover’s opinions the most, those were Percy’s oldest and best friends, and he didn’t want them to hate him.

“It’s fine Nico, really, I understand wanting alone time, you just had all of us a bit spooked, and when Hazel found out from Leo that you were missing too she got really stressed out so Leo’s at Camp Jupiter with her and Frank and you should go let her know.

“Yeah, okay, Perce you coming with me? I feel like we’ll need to calm Leo’s nerves too.”Percy nodded hastily and took Nico’s hand, quickly leaving a peck on Annabeth’s forehead before Nico shadow travelled them to Camp Jupiter.

They landed in the living room of Jason And Reyna, and Hazel and Frank’s shared home. Percy placed a chaste kiss on Nico’s lips then started pulling him back towards Hazel and Frank’s room.

They let themselves in to find Hazel and Frank snuggling with Leo nestled between them. Nico approached the bed and lightly awoke Hazel.

“Haze?” He asked softly as she began to stir. She slowly rolled over, her eyes half lidded, before they brightened at the sight of Nico.

“Nico!” She jumped up to embrace him, also stirring Leo and Frank. Leo immediately also jumped up to hug Percy tightly. Frank just rose slowly to look at his lovers adoringly. Nico enjoyed pretending to be protective of Hazel, but her boyfriends were both so good there was really no reason to try and be protective. He trusted them.

“Don’t go disappearing like that!” Hazel exclaimed and swatted Nico’s chest.

“I’m sorry! We fell asleep at the palace!” Hazel narrowed her eyes.

“What were you doing in the underworld in the first place?” She asked annoyed. Nico huffed and rolled his eyes.

“Well, if we hadn’t been rudely interrupted by Will, then some random Hephaestus kid, then Leo, then someone else, I wouldn’t have been annoyed enough to even leave camp, but if I’m trying to enjoy my time with Percy, I want to do it without interruption so whatever!” Percy laughed because Nico was already very defensive of the subject.

“So that’s why Beckendorf couldn’t get to you guys!” Leo exclaimed and Nico rolled his eyes.

“Yes Leo, THATS why Beckendorf couldn’t get to me, because I was trying to enjoy my cherished time with Percy the same way you guys try to enjoy your time with eachother,�� Leo looked down guiltily. Hazel was able to summon a Hell Hound whenever she wanted, so she could come see Leo whenever she wanted, on top of that, they were all out to the camp as Poly and in a relationship. But Percy and Nico were only out to their closest friends so it wasn’t like Nico could just go up to Percy and kiss him between their shifts or duties, they had to plan time to be together.

“Sorry...” Leo muttered and Nico huffed.

“Don’t apologize, guilt doesn’t look good on you, and I don’t really particularly mind because that was the least stressful I’ve woken up before, so hush,” Nico was being very persistent about no one feeling bad and then he was reminded that Will was one of his bestfriends, a total mother hen, and was probably worried sick. Nico groaned and fell back onto the couch in the trio’s room.

“Neeks?” Percy asked as he watched his boyfriend collapse.

“Will’s probably at Camp Halfblood having a fucking panic attack because I disappeared!” He sighed, then looked lovingly at Percy, then glanced at the others and slowly stood.

“What’s up Nico?” Hazel asked as he came and sat down again.

“You guys are all so good! Gods! Why can’t you just hate me for being annoying! For avoiding you! For grilling you! Why can’t you just resent me! If everyone hated me, peopling would be some much less stressful!” Percy laughed and scooped Nico up off the bed and placed a chaste kiss on his lips.

“Neeks, that’s what friends are all about, being worried when you aren’t where you’re supposed to be, because we love you,” Percy nuzzled Nico’s hair and the shorter demigod only huffed.

“You two are disgustingly cute,” Leo pointed out from where he was laying against Frank with the larger man’s arms around his waist. Nico rolled his eyes and glared at the son of Hephaestus.

“Oh yeah, any chance I get,” Percy confirmed easily, which made Hazel laugh then look at her brother.

“You can go,” she said, then grabbed Nico’s hand, “check in with Will, make sure the poor boy isn’t having a panic attack, then I cannot let you do anything further, you must go to sleep, no matter how good you’ve gotten at shadow traveling, doing so at great distances is not good for your health, and you will immediately shadow travel back to your own cabin, with Percy, and sleep.” Hazel was very serious about Nico’s health, maybe not as much as Will, but still serious.

“Okay, I’ve got it, love you Haze,” He hugged his sister, let Percy hug Leo, then waved them all goodbye and they were off. After a bit, they landed in Will’s cabin and once they were both stable, Nico gave up and just leaned into Percy, Hazel was right, shadow traveling between realms and across countries was really draining. Percy rubbed his back comfortingly and turned to Will’s bed, only to find it empty. He sighed and looked at Nico, who staring seriously at the bed. He sighed as well, and hugged Percy around the middle to travel the couple of meters to the Hephaestus Cabin, where no doubt Will would be.

Which of course, they were right, Will was sleeping with Jake in the Hephaestus kid’s bed, curled up to his boyfriend happily. Nico laughed at his friend but still leaned into Percy, feeling absolutely drained to the max.

“Will?” Nico whispered softly, slowly stirring Will from his sleep.

“Nico!” Will whisper shouted as he pulled the son of Hades away from his boyfriend and into a hug.

“Why do you look so tired? Have you two been fighting monsters?” Will sat up fully and pushed Nico down next to him.

“No Will!” Nico shoved Will’s worrying hands away and leaned toward Percy.

“Nico’s been shadow traveling a lot...” Percy explained and Will’s eyes narrowed.

“Really Coco?” He asked and Nico glared angrily at the stupid nickname.

“Will, really, I’m fine, I’m just tired,” he sighed loudly and made grabby hands at Percy. As much as being small sucked, having a tall boyfriend meant that he could be easily lifted up.

“Nico got a bit annoyed after four interruptions and shadow travelled us to his room in the underworld,” Percy was rubbing Nico’s back lovingly, “then we came back and I panicked and he brought us to Annie, only for her to recommend we went to see Hazel, and we did and Nico realised you’d be worried sick so we came back then you weren’t in your cabin and now we’re here.” Percy kissed the top of Nico’s head and the son of Hades sighed dreamily, leaning into his boyfriends touch like it was a life line. Will let his gaze soften at his bestfriends happiness. Nico deserves what he wanted, and Percy had been what he wanted for years.

“Well, I, as the head doctor, prescribe a good nights rest, and a full day of Percy cuddles. I’ll make up an excuse for you two, and I’ll let the others know, just stay in tomorrow, cuddle up, watch some movies, love you Neeks,” Will kisses Nico’s forehead and pushed him all the way into Percy who laughed.

“How about we get Mrs. O’Leary?” He asked and Nico nodded wildly quickly summoning the Hell Hound then giving Will a kiss on the cheek good bye and rushing out of there as fast as he could. Mrs. O’Leary brought them to Nico’s cabin Percy easily carried Nico to the half-Hades’ bed. They collapsed into it and Percy curled around Nico while Mrs. O’Leary climbed up and curled around the both of them.

——————————————————————————

Nico awoke feeling completely recharged at around noon the next day, Percy was gone, but Mrs. O’Leary was still curled around Nico, and he sighed in bliss.

“Percy?” He called, and was answered by his cabin door opening. He sat up against Mrs. O’Leary subconciously leaning into her and also covering her.

“Coco?” He heard Will call and Nico let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. In walked Will with a tray of what looked like blue cookies and a glass of pomegranate juice. Of course, his favorite juice and something personally made by Percy.

“Hey Will-I-Am,” Nico greeted, then yawned, “where’s my Sea Prince?” He asked after a few seconds and Will laughed while he set down the tray on Nico’s bedside table.

“He’s at his mom’s house, says he’s got a surprise for you there, but he should be back soon, don’t worry,” Will explained as he handed Nico the plate of cookies and the glass. Then he picked up the rag and dunked it in what looked like cold water then set it to the side. Nico looked at him wearily as he ate his cookies. Will tended to be a little overbearing luv caring at times, like acting as if exhaustion was a fever.

“Will!” Nico whined as Will pulled a thermometer out of his pocket.

“Nicolai!” Will swatted at Nico’s hands and stuffed the thermometer in his mouth.

“You will sit here and accept my mother henning because you hopped twice between realms and twice across the country and you will now accept my making sure you’re okay because exhaustion can result in fevers and sickness.” Nico sighed and laid back, letting Will dab his forehead with the wet cloth then when the thermometer beeped he pulled it out of Nico’s mouth and set it to the side.

“You’re temperature is normal,” he stated then under his breath, “for a child of Hades,” then back to normal volume, “and you may continue as I planned with a day of cuddles and relaxation. I said that you two got into a mess with Melinoe and Makaria, so you had to go to the underworld and now you’re both allowed to rest for the day,” Nico smiled at his friend as Will leaned in to press a kiss to Nico’s forehead.

“Thanks Will,” Nico said regrettably.

“Aw, any time Neeks, I love you, you’re my best friend, it’s what you deserve,” then Will stood and left while Nico fell back into his Hell Hound and turned to bury his face in her fur. He let her warmth consume him and brighten his mood even further as he slowly finished his cookies and pomegranate juice.

“Nico?” Percy called and Mrs. O’Leary lifted her head in excitement, jostling Nico.

“I’m here Percy!” Nico called back and as Percy emerged from the stairs Nico saw a broad smile on his lips.

“Okay, sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up, I have you something,” Percy held up a bag that Nico recognized from that time Annabeth and Katie had forced them to take one of the Arts and Crafts classes and they made bags with eachother. They actually enjoyed seeing and had made a few more bags together since, but this one was the first they’d made together. It was a view of the ocean against an extremely starry sky.

Nico was pulled from his thought by the smell of distinctive Italian food. His mother’s. Tears sprang to his eyes as he looked lovingly at Percy.

“Nico!?” Percy called concerned as he rushed to the bed faster, dropping the bag on the night stand and landed on the bed pulling Nico into a tight hug.

“You are the most amazing incredible awful human being I’ve ever met,” He muttered while laugh-crying into Percy’s chest. That caused Percy to let out a relieved huff of a laugh.

“Why?” He asked.

“Because you perfect boyfriend went all the way to your mom’s apartment so you could make my mom’s lasagna recipe with her.” Percy’s eyes widened and he nodded quickly.

“Of course Neeks, you were so tired last night I thought you deserved a treat, and you talk about your mom and grandma’s cooking so often I thought...” Nico knocked the air out of Percy as he tackled him into the bed and hugged him tightly while pressing a kiss to his lips. He felt Percy smile into the kiss as he wrapped his arms around Nico’s waist

“You, Perseus Jackson, are the best thing that has ever walked into my life.” He muttered against Percy’s lips causing a bright blush to rush to Percy’s cheeks.

“You, Nico Di Angelo, deserve the best,” he answered. And Nico smiled as he sat up, straddling Percy’s waist. He grabbed the bag of food and pulled it into his lap as Percy sat up as well, keeping Nico on his lap. Nico pulled out four tupperwares and a bottle of sparkling white grape juice. He smiled at the bottle then looked at Percy with an amusing smirk.

“We better be careful, if Mr. D find outs we have a bottle of “non-alcoholic wine” he’ll throw a hissy fit.” He joked and Percy smiled, pulling out two wine glasses.

“Well, it’s a good thing people have decided to leave us alone then.” He agreed and settled to pour them both a glass of juice.

#nico di angelo #percy jackson #percico #PJO #nicercy

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

gold coloured prisms of light, chapter two (branjie) - holtzmanns

(read on ao3) | (tumblr: plastiquetiaras) | word count: 4922

AN: Thank you SO so much for all the sweet feedback on the first chapter! This fic is absolutely becoming one of my favourites to write, and I am so glad that you all are enjoying it so far, it makes me so happy. I made a playlist for this fic too, if music is your thing. Listen here. Writ is the best beta <33

Brock is nineteen and his friend Emily from ballet school is putting her makeup on his face and he’s never been more excited about Halloween in his life.

He writes to Jose on his forearm while Emily dusts blush on his cheeks, hoping that she doesn’t notice.

I’m dressing up in drag for Halloween

Me too!!!

WHAT

YEAH

Show me your look I wanna see

Not yet I’m doing my makeup

Brock remembers Jose mentioning his new job at Mac, seeing the pictures he’s sent of his makeup looks that make him look even more ethereal than he already is. He wishes that Jose could be here now, be the one to do his makeup.

Emily tosses Brock a dress, tells him to try it on and sure, Brock still has a shadow on his face and his jaw is big even under his wig but he looks-

Good.

He could get used to dressing up in drag.

His phone buzzes because Jose’s sent a picture, and Brock gasps because Jose looks like a woman. Granted, Brock’s perception of what women are actually like is a bit warped, having gone to the gay village with his friends to watch drag queens too many a time after reaching the legal drinking age, but Jose looks like one. Better than the ones he’s seen.

Wow

You look amazing

THANKS

Now show me yours

No I don’t look as good as you

Yes you do I bet

So Brock sends one, because he can never really say no to Jose for long.

OMG

You look SO TALL

A whole ass model

Do not

You’re just trying to make me feel better

Lemme do your makeup next time

It tugs on Brock’s heart, because he wishes there was a way that Jose actually could.

Brock is twenty six and on a date with a guy and he’s absolutely bored stiff.

Because the guy is not Jose.

They’d agreed to date around a little bit, to explore a few years back. To see what other guys were like (even though Brock knows Jose is the one), just to be sure, until they’re in the same place.

Besides, they have forever in front of them, right?

But Brock’s never really found any of them interesting, connected with any. He finds more and more that he sleeps with them and is inevitably disappointed, waking up the next morning to doodle on his side until Jose wakes up and replies, too.

He never texts any of the guys back, never goes on a second date. It feels disloyal, somehow, even though he knows that Jose is probably doing the same thing.

He tries not to think about Jose kissing someone else, or sleeping with someone else.

He ends the date without so much as a kiss goodbye, already pulling out a Sharpie from his coat pocket on the walk back to his apartment. He barely gets the cap of the marker off before his phone buzzes.

“There’s a pageant in Georgia that I want you to do.” His drag mom’s voice crackles on the other end of the line, Farrah always wanting to push him, wanting him to try more.

“A plane ticket’s going to be expensive.” Brock bites his lip. He’s been picking up part time jobs during the day to fund his drag, after stopping ballet because his tired and worn body can’t take it anymore, the touring and the dancing that’s been breaking him down.

“We’ll drive down. We have all your drag to take, too. It’ll be good for people on the Southern scene to get a look at you, get you on their radars.”

“Just tell me in advance so I can book time off work.” Brock unlocks his apartment door, letting himself in as he tugs off his jacket, dropping it on the couch.

“In two weeks. So we’ve got to work on your looks and your numbers again.”

Being able to perform in drag feels good to Brock, makes him feel alive. Lights him up on stage the way he’s always wanted ballet to do so, because now he actually gets to wear the hair and outfits that he’s always wanted to and transform and draw all the eyes in the room towards him.

He wants to tell Jose about it, send him more pictures of his drag, but he’s intimidated. Jose still works at Mac and does drag on the side and he looks good, real good, every time he sends a picture and makes Brock zoom in on it to see exactly how he’s done his contour, his cut creases.

Jose’s started drawing drag makeup sketches with coloured markers on his legs and Brock realizes that Jose is his favourite artist, maybe ever.

Brock is in Georgia and the backstage of a pageant reminds him of his ballet days but more fun, because now he gets to dress up all pretty too.

Brock gets his makeup done before everyone else backstage, dusting setting powder on his face and adjusting his wig line while the rest of the girls competing are still outlining their contours.

It’s both a blessing and a curse, being able to do his makeup so fast. On one hand, he knows that he’s finished and doesn’t need to worry about being on time but on the other hand, he ruminates.

He mentally rehearses his talent routine over and over in his mind, trying to get the steps just right, the way that they were with the backup dancers in rehearsal. He can’t have any mistakes, at least, not ones that he can prevent.

Brock has heard of most of the girls competing, seeing quite a few on the pageant circuit a little north. But there’s a handful of queens that he’s never met before, including Alexis Mateo, who’s also ready like Brock and standing with a crowd of dancers, tapping her foot and scowling as she checks the time on her phone.

“José, si no estás listo en los próximos cinco minutos, juro por dios-”

“I’m coming, I’m coming, Mary! Wait up!” Brock is nearly knocked over when a guy bounds past him, yelling excuse me’s as he weaves himself past all of the vanity mirrors and towards Alexis. A backup dancer, Brock guesses, from the way that his outfit matches the rest of them.

But then the guy joins the group, runs a hand through his hair as turns around, shooting one last look at the queens getting ready before turning back to face Alexis and Brock’s heart stops beating right in his chest, his breath hitching as the makeup brush falls from his hand and onto the table.

The eyebrows, the perfect jawline, the features that have been burned into Brock’s memory by now by how often Brock sees him in his mind?

It’s Jose.

“Ready? Let’s practice your walk, since you’re already done.” Farrah’s tugging on Brock’s hand and getting him to stand up and it’s a miracle, really, that his legs are supporting him because Jose is right there, walking out the door with Alexis’ group and every fibre of Brock’s being wants to go after him.

But he also knows that they’re about to start a competition, and Farrah would absolutely kill him if he went after a boy.

Even if that boy is his soulmate.

Brock floats through his numbers in a daze, because nothing seems real and Jose is right there, laughing and dancing and yelling his head off and he’s perfect, just like Brock knew he’d be.

He gets first alternate and he’s not even disappointed like he usually would be, because sure, he wants to win but he’s found his soulmate and as soon as he gets off the stage and takes off his crown and sash and heels, he can go find him, talk to him.

Brock looks around frantically, handing Farrah the flowers he’d been given on stage, because he’s about to drop them and he needs to find Jose , needs to find him now.

Jose’s with Alexis and the rest of her dancers, Red Bull in hand and making silly jokes and Brock is shaking as he walks towards him, and maybe he should have gotten out of drag first-

He grabs for Jose’s arm and it feels like he’s been struck by lightning.

Jose turns around as if he’s been burned, looking him up and down curiously as if trying to place his face (why, why didn’t he get out of drag first) before his mouth drops open, and Brock is nearly knocked over by the weight of Jose in his arms.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god-”

Brock’s never felt this much before, never been convinced that he’s absolutely going to be bowled over until right now, because how are his legs supporting him when Jose is in his arms and burying his face in his chest as if he’ll disappear, they’ll disappear if they let go?

Brock pulls back, draws in a gasp because it’s become hard to breathe, and Alexis is looking at them curiously because both of them look like they’ve seen a ghost.

Jose is perfect, from the way his eyes are wide, flitting along Brock’s face and the way his hand is running through his hair while his other hand is reaching out for Brock and Brock gets it, because he doesn’t want to let go of Jose again.

“Sorry, I’m still in drag, I should have-”

“Let me help you, come with you.”

“Okay.”

They grab Brock’s stuff from his vanity mirror and head for a bathroom because Brock doesn’t want to be around anyone else except for Jose. His hands are shaking as he puts down his makeup bag and makeup remover and Jose grabs the makeup wipe from his hand.

As loud as he had been earlier Jose is gentle now, pulling off Brock’s fake lashes with care and his wig and running his hands through Brock’s curls after his wig cap is off, and Brock feels himself leaning into the touch, still feels like he’s on fire.

As the layers and layers of makeup come off and Brock leaves Brooke behind, Jose’s face is filled with more and more marvel. His eyes map the contours of Brock’s face, his fingers tracing his patterns along Brock’s jaw, his cheekbones, above his eyebrows. As if he’s trying to commit everything to memory.

Jose helps Brock unlace his corset, though it doesn’t help Brock in bringing the air back into his lungs, because he feels like it’s been permanently knocked out of them now. Brock is about to pull on a hoodie, something soft after the hours and hours of restricting drag, before Jose throws his arms around him.

Brock’s had first kisses before. First kiss with a boy. First onstage kiss for ballet. First drunken kiss.

But this one? Blows all of them out of the water.

Jose is energy, pure energy that is feeding Brock’s soul, and he’s making Brock wonder how he’s survived nearly twenty seven years on earth without this. Without Jose, without feeling like he’s whole, because now he truly, truly gets the definition of a soulmate.

No wonder he hasn’t felt something with any other guy. How could he even begin to try, when Jose is entering his heart and fixing everything and making it whole again?

Jose whines into his mouth and Brock gets it, because it’s enough but it’s not, it’s not, he needs more and Jose needs more and he’s waited more than two decades for this and he needs it now.

Brock pulls back from the kiss and Jose’s eyes are wild, his lips swollen and parted and his hands shaking. They’ve talked to each other every day since they were kids and Brock feels like he knows absolutely everything about the man in front of him, but he needs to know more.

Brock is in a hotel room in Georgia and Jose is in his arms.

He doesn’t know how he’s going to go back to Toronto while Jose goes back to Tampa, how he’ll return to his everyday life without Jose there with him. Now that Jose is lying on his chest, fast asleep and mouth slightly parted as his eyes flutter, now that Brock finally, finally feels like he’s complete, he doesn’t want to let him go.

He can’t stop staring at him. Jose, beautiful perfect Jose who is funny and loud and had made Brock smile the entire night more than he has in his entire life. Jose, who is a ball of lightning that ricochets around the room and Brock isn’t able to take his eyes off of him, no matter how hard he tries.

Brock had gotten to kiss every inch of Jose’s skin that he could reach, see goosebumps rise along the areas where he’s written messages to him for what feels like forever.

Jose had taken out a Sharpie from his bag after their second round, when they were both spent but didn’t want to let go of each other, didn’t want to stop holding on, being connected. He’d drawn a heart on his own wrist and both of them had watched as it appeared on Brock’s mere moments later.

Their bodies aren’t quite the same but they complement one another, the drawings showing up on their skin in matching places, mirror images reflecting on each other almost perfectly. They had drawn new designs after every round, traced their hands over each mark in wonder, as if they’d never seen it happen before and hadn’t been writing to each other for nearly their entire lives.

Now here they are, in a hotel bed somewhere in Georgia as the moonlight streams in through the slightly open window, and the slight breeze makes Brock hold Jose just a bit tighter to him. Brock swears that he can feel Jose’s heart, how it beats at the same pace that his own does as he sleeps on top of him. Because they’re linked somehow, the blood that’s running through their veins and keeping them alive beating in sync, the way that the two of them have always been.

Brock calls in sick to work the day that Farrah starts to drive back to Toronto without him, because he can’t leave Jose just yet. Jose argues with the manager of his Mac store over the phone (’I told y’all, I got mononowhatever it is, I ain’t coming in’) and Brock’s eyes trace over his taut form, marvelling at how he had fit so well against his side like a puzzle piece.

He puts his duffle bag in Jose’s car (he’s sent his drag back up to Toronto with Farrah already) and climbs in the passenger seat. They drive to Atlanta because they can, because it’s a new city for both of them and they can make fresh memories there, even if just for a day. The car ride is filled with snacks and stolen kisses and Brock’s hand drawing patterns on Jose’s thigh, nearly making him crash at least twice.

They stop at a diner and share a milkshake like they’re a well worn cliche, trading whispers across the table and Jose’s voice when it’s soft reminds Brock of the way that Jose always writes goodnight on his palm before he falls asleep.

Their sex that night is less frantic, less exploratory, more reaffirming. Brock finds that it’s incredibly easy to figure out how to make Jose come undone and dig his nails into his skin. Maybe it’s because he’s already known all along. Worshipping Jose with his mouth makes him believe in something bigger, something with a higher power upon the universe, more than any visits to church as a child ever did. Because what else would allow Brock to experience this, experience Jose, making him feel like his soul is never going to be the same afterwards ever again?

They order in food to their hotel room and Jose pulls on Brock’s hoodie, and Brock swears that he sees him bury his face in it more than once.

They’re lying in bed when the clock reads 2 a.m., and Jose is tracing patterns along Brock’s ribs. Brock almost expects to see ink marks appear on his skin underneath Jose’s fingertips. Jose looks up at him, under those long lashes like he can’t get enough, like looking away from him for more than a second means that he’s losing out. Brock gets it, because he’s been doing the same thing.

Time seems to pass faster with Jose, as if being in proximity to a soulmate means that every moment is precious, so easily lost.

“What are we gonna do?”

“I dunno.” Brock wishes that he did. That he had an answer for this, that they didn’t live two thousand or so kilometers away from each other.

“Me neither.” Jose grabs onto him ever so slightly tighter.

“We’ll figure it out. It’s not going to be forever.” Brock runs his fingers through Jose’s hair, hears him let out a hum. “We can visit.”

“You better bring your ass to Tampa often. I don’t wanna go back without you.”

“As long as you bring yours to Toronto.”

“That don’t even sound like a real place.” Jose’s eyes are sparkling and it reminds Brock of the night sky.

“They found a monkey in a fur coat in an IKEA once in Toronto, so I’m not really sure that it is.” Brock watches as Jose raises an eyebrow, waits for him to say that he’s joking. Jose scoffs when he doesn’t.

“Canada sounds whack. But it gave me you, so.” Jose leans back into Brock’s side, presses a kiss to his ribs and Brock feels like it puts him back together.

Brock’s on a flight back to Toronto and he’s never felt emptier in his life.

I miss you I miss you I miss you

Jose’s driving back to Tampa so he can’t reply, Brock knows, but he hopes that he sees the words on the back of his hands as they hold the steering wheel.

Brock falls asleep after the flight attendant gives him a diet coke, and he wakes up to stars on his palms and hearts along his wrists.

Going back to work during the day, and back to the drag scene in the Village during the night makes Brock feel empty. How can he clock in for eight hours while trying to pretend to care, when his soulmate is far, far down on the coast? How can he tuck his dick back and pull on hip pads and layers of makeup and a wig that squeezes his head too tight, knowing that Jose won’t be there to help him take it all off?

It makes everything feel worthless.

But a little nagging voice in the back of his head reminds him of what his sisters had said, back when they were young and would weave stories about soulmates and what it meant to fall in love.

People have gone mad for their soulmates. Thrown their whole lives away, only to have everything blow up in their faces. Lost family and friends and money all in pursuit for one person, who may not be able to give them what they need.

Brock knows that him and Jose aren’t like that. They’re not. They’re Brock and Jose, they write messages to each other and maybe, just maybe, it keeps him from drowning.

But he also doesn’t want to rest the responsibility of his happiness solely on Jose.

So Brock gets into drag every night, picking up gigs on Church Street and he keeps on trekking.

Brock is twenty eight and packing for appearances as Miss Continental when Jose’s words blossom on his forearm.

So are you applying for drag race this year or what

Yeah. Again. You?

Brock’s applied once already. Last year, when he’d moved to Nashville and Jose had cheered because he was closer but grumbled because he wasn’t close enough. But now they take turns driving to each other, the ten hour trek not feeling so long to Brock when he knows what’s waiting at the end of it. They take long weekends, holidays, any short stretches of time they have. But it never feels like it’s satisfying enough, like it quenches Brock’s need for Jose to always be within reaching distance.

Yeah filmed an audition tape. Alexis directed it and it’s wild

I wanna see

Show me yours too

Brock’s is boring, pretty much a resume of his drag career with his crowning of Miss Continental as a highlight. But the video that Jose sends him makes him burst out laughing.

He’s his usual perfect hilarious self but cranked up about ten notches, shouting about how he deserves to be on the show and lip syncing with numbers full of death drops that make Brock’s tired knees ache just from watching.

He’s magnetic.

God, they’re gonna love you

What no you think so??? It’s not too crazy????

Oh, it’s crazy alright. But so you

Bitch what’s that supposed to mean

It’s a compliment, you goof

Yours is good too, you professional fish

I don’t know if it’s good enough, though

You’re always good enough

But a month and a half later Brock is the first one to find out that Jose’s made it on season ten of Drag Race after he gets the call, when Jose writes the number 10 with exclamation points purple ink on his palm.

Brock doesn’t get the same call.

He continues his Miss Continental appearances, helps Jose put together outfits for the runways with some of his designer connections. He tries not to be bitter when he can practically feel Jose’s excitement pumping through his own veins.

Jose goes radio silent on social media but his nerves bleed through ink on Brock’s thigh the night before filming starts for episode one.

Oh my god oh my god it’s tomorrow

Brock

I wish you were here

Me too

Brock really, really does.

You’ll do amazing, you’ll show them just how amazing you are

Everyone deserves to see you, be impressed by you

Have you light up their worlds like you light up mine

That’s poetic as shit

I know you’re tearing up over it though

Fuck yeah I am

You’re the worst

That’s a lie you’re the best

Go sleep, you need to be fully rested before tomorrow

A flower appears on Brock’s hipbone before he drifts off to sleep.

Brock is getting into drag at Play Nashville when words start to appear on his forearms and his chest and his ribs and he can tell Jose is upset.

So fucking stupid, I fucked up, Alexis is gonna be so upset shit shit shit

Brock puts his foundation down because Jose needs him more, right now. He knows that Jose’s only his second day into filming and hasn’t wanted to bother him, but now that he’s in trouble Brock is more than willing to be there.

What happened?

I messed up, that’s what

How?

They sending me home first

I’m first out Brock I’m fucking first out

I thought I did well in the lipsync but this other bitch brought money and threw it around stage

Who the fuck does that

Shit

I’m sorry baby, shit

Brock bites his lip. He can only imagine Jose right now, getting out of drag while Brock is getting into it, Sharpie shaking in his hands as he tries to write.

Jose is a star and Brock knows it, and he doesn’t know how Jose ended up in the bottom but he doesn’t want to pry, make things worse. Brock wishes he could be there instead, in LA at whatever studio they’re filming at just to wrap Jose in his arms under the guise of making everything better, while also giving the judges a piece of his mind.

Not that he has the courage to do that, but still.

Brock doesn’t need to watch the episode to know that Jose deserves better than this. But he knows Jose, knows how good he is at making everyone turn their eyes towards him, command them to pay attention.

Brock knows, he just knows, that Jose is still going to be successful. Maybe they’ll even bring him back for another season.

He draws out plans on his leg for what they’ll do when Jose comes to visit him next, then writes a story about how Jose is going to be a bigger star than anyone on his season. Jose scoffs and writes little annotations and jokes around his words, but Brock somehow can already feel the way the burden is lifting from his chest.

Brock is twenty-nine and his soulmate has just gone and broken the internet.

It seems that Brock can’t go to a gig, can’t scroll through Instagram without seeing ‘Miss Vanjie’ memes everywhere. Jose’s face all done up in drag, strolling backwards and making the judges crack up and absolutely everyone around him is repeating the words over and over again.

Jose is as befuddled as he is after the episode airs, and it feels like the universe as they know it is beginning to explode.

I swear my brain wasn’t even working I was just walking backwards and acting a damn fool not even knowing what was leaving my mouth

Didn’t even properly remember till watching this

And now you’re a meme

Fuck

I think Kathy Griffin tweeted about you

Who tf is that

Apparently I need to get a manager and an agent now

Wow

Alexis said so

People be calling left and right

I’m so proud of you

I didn’t even do anything I just said my name cause I forgot every other word that exists

And everyone absolutely loves it

Jose starts getting booked first all around the country, and then all around the world, and they can’t drive to visit each other anymore because Jose is always on the road but he always makes sure to write I love you under Brock’s ribs every night.

Brock gets the call for season eleven of Drag Race at 2 in the afternoon and he nearly falls off his couch and brings Henry and Apollo down with him.

They’re making him sign an NDA but he’s read it over, and no one’s mentioned soulmates and Brock needs to find a Sharpie or pen, damnit, and why does his living room suddenly seem devoid of them?

He stubs his toe on the kitchen counter when he finds one on the table, swearing under his breath as he pops the cap but then words are showing up on the back of his hand.

BROCK BROCK BROCK

THEY CALLED ME BACK

THEY WANT ME FOR SEASON ELEVEN

Brock wants to pick up Henry and dance around his kitchen because he’s going to be on season eleven of Drag Race and now Jose is going to be with him.

I JUST HUNG UP THE PHONE TOO

WHAT!!!

You’re not playing are you

Tell me you’re not playing

NO THEY REALLY CALLED ME

WE’RE GOING TO BE ON SEASON ELEVEN TOGETHER?????

oh my GOD

Facetime me facetime me

Jose picks up while he’s walking through an airport terminal with his manager, Jason, and fuck NDAs because Jose is being loud, practically screaming at the top of his lungs and Brock feels like he’s never ever going to stop smiling again.

“You did it. You’re going back.” Brock knew that Jose was meant to be a star, back when they were kids and Jose would tell him stories about how his abuela had thought the same thing. And now Jose’s going to do it twice over, after having done it on season ten already.

“I’m going- bitch, you fucking made the season!” Jose spins around and Jason’s running behind him, telling him tokeep his voice down but Jose doesn’t seem to care and Brock doesn’t either, really. “They really loved your Canadian ass this time around, huh?”

“Seems so.” It’s not quite sinking in for Brock just yet, the fact that in a handful of weeks he’s going to fly down to LA and film Drag Race and oh boy, he has so many runway looks that he has to put together before that and practically no time to do so-

“Hey. You. Don’t lose your shit on me.” Jose’s looking at him with that all knowing expression, because he always has an inkling of when Brock’s brain starts to get the better of him. “You made it. The hard part’s done and now the journey’s just beginning, baby.”

Brock smiles despite himself. He’s done it, he’s done it, and now he’s going to be there with Jose and have him to lean on and they can write to each other constantly and-

“Just don’t get out first like I did.” Jose snorts. It’s an old wound now, one that’s scabbed over and healed by the endless success that Jose’s been experiencing in the past year, much more so than quite a few girls from his season.

Jose really can do anything, in Brock’s eyes, his magnetic force of a man that Brock first saw command a room but now is commanding the entire world. Brock would say that he’s surprised by Jose being selected for season eleven again but he’s not, not at all, because who wouldn’t want him back?

And now Brock gets to go with him, too.

#rpdr fanfiction #branjie #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #canon compliant #soulmate au #holtzmanns #gold coloured prisms of light

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babyboy-cody · 5 years

Note

66, 38 and 8 for Michael please!!!!!!

Hawthorne!Michael x Fem!Reader

8) I just wanna lay in your arms for the rest of my life.

38) If you ran like your mouth, you’d be in good shape.

66) Someone needs to train that mouth of yours before it gets you into trouble.

WARNINGS: angst if you squint, slight bullying, lil fluffiness towards the end, makeout sessions

“Girls, these are the boys from Hawthorne. Help them settle in while I have a quick chat with Ariel,” Cordelia informed her young witches before disappearing from the hall with the bald man following behind.

The girls gawked and immediately started having conversation with the warlocks. You stood back with your arms crossed and stared in distaste. To be honest, you loathed warlocks. They believed they were better than witches. They frowned about you girls as though you were shit at the bottom of their shined shoes. The fact that they were temporarily staying at your school for God knows how long made your stomach churn and a fire burn in your veins.

“If you stare a little harder, you might blow us up,” a voice teasingly said from behind.

You sharply turned around and gasped. There stood a warlock boy with his hands behind his back, a small smirk on his plump lips with his head cocked to the side. He stood tall and proud, practically oozing arrogance. But what made your breath hitch was how incredibly beautiful he looked. His blonde curls are styled so perfectly. His skin is pale, but his eyes are dark blue. His face is structured to make him look innocent, though you could tell that was a different story.

“I don’t believe I caught your name, little witch,” he grins and takes a step forward as he stared down at you.

“I never said it,” you bitterly told him, trying to fight the butterflies in your stomach when his intense gaze doesn’t falter.

“She has a mouth on her,” he says as his grin spreads. “My name’s Michael Langdon. It’s a pleasure to meet your acquaintance.”

“Listen, Michael, I don’t give a shit if you and your little boy club are staying in my school. Just stay out of my way and we won’t have any problems. Got it?” You sneered and glared into his unwavering eyes.

It’s no lie that Michael’s intimidating. You tried not to show how he’s affecting you. But there’s something about him that screams DANGER DANGER. You wanted to find out more, but you wanted to keep as much distance as possible.

Michael’s stares down at you and hums quietly. Your muscles tense when he lowers his head. His lips brush against your ear, hot breath colliding with your skin. Your lashes flutter as you hold your breath.

“If you ran like your mouth, you’d be in good shape,” he whispers lowly.

Your eyes widen as you stifle a gasp. Michael grins and takes a step back, feeling entirely satisfied with himself for slowly breaking you down.

“We’ll be seeing each again, Y/N,” he draws out and brushes by you, shoulder touching yours lightly.

And that’s how it’s been for the past two weeks. Michael has made it his plan to break you down little by little. He annoys you to the point where you’ve thrown things at him with your powers. He never stopped. He kept going like an annoying chihuahua. It irked you so much that you’ve requested to change your room, since Michael’s is right across the hall. Cordelia informs you that there was nothing she could do, so you had to continue with Michael’s antics.

“Oh, Y/N,” Michael signs and takes a seat in front of you at the oak desk in the dining room.

You had your books laid out with your chin resting in the palm of your hand, eyes furiously taking in every word and note. You ignore Michael and circle an important rule in the book. You suddenly feel a harsh tug at the back of your hair. You shout and grab your head, immediately staring at Michael with a fire in his eyes as he leans back with his usual cocky grin.

You wave your hand and push his chair back to make him fall out. But he lifts his own hand and creates some invisible force around him to block yours out. You stare in shock. Your cheeks are burning as an ache forms in the pit of your stomach.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” Michael laughs and cocks an eyebrow.

“Leave me alone, Michael,” you shout in frustration and gather your books, angrily stomping out of the dining hall to the curved stairs. “For fuck’s sake!”

You slam your bedroom door shut and throw your books to the ground. You lay back on your bed and scream into your pillow, smashing your fists against the cushion. You knew you should’ve ignored Michael and just continue on with your day. But that boy gets more and more dreadful each time you cross paths.

“Am I interrupting something?”

You sit up and stare at Michael who stands in your room with his hands behind his back again. He stands like a statue, no muscle moving completely. You stay quiet and hold your breath as he makes his way over to you. He stands between your legs and leans down until you’re resting on your elbows, his hands planted on either side of you. Michael tilts his head and studies you. His eyes trails from your eyes down to your parted lips.

“Someone needs to train that mouth of yours before it gets you into trouble,” he rasps, his voice low and gravelly.

“What’re you gonna do about it?” You softly pant against his lips, hot breaths mingling as your lashes flutter against his cheeks.

Michael presses forward and locks your lips with his. One hand wraps around your throat to hold you against him. You let out a small moan and wrap your thighs around his hips, the skirt of your uniform dress sliding up. Both of your hands grab the back of his neck to pull him closer as you fall onto the bed. Michael groans lowly and pulls away slowly, a small string of saliva connecting your lips. You look into his eyes and find them to be a lighter shade of blue. Your cheeks flush as a small grin forms on your swollen lips.

“What?” He whispers, brushing his nose against yours softly.

“Nothing,” you whisper, pressing a small kiss to his lips again.

“You know that I like you, right?” Michael asks quietly, pushing a lock of hair out of your eyes and behind your ear. “I’m not good when it comes to…emotions.”

You let out a quiet laugh and stroke your thumb over his high cheekbone, loving the feeling of his soft skin under your fingers.

“I know,” you say and look into his eyes. “We can make this work, right?”

“Of course,” he tells you and kisses your jaw lightly. “I just wanna lay in your arms for the rest of my life.”

#michael langdon #prompt #michael langdon x reader #prompt list

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brianamorganbooks · 4 years

Link

In case you missed it, chapter one is here!

My sleep suffers that night. Charlie doesn’t come back to the room. When I wake up around nine-thirty the next morning, she’s still gone. At first, I’m not sure what’s woken me up—until my phone chirps again from my nightstand. It’s no surprise that even centuries-old boarding schools have text-alert systems now.

Good morning, ladies! Please join me to usher in a successful new school year. Meet in the auditorium at the top of the hour—don’t be tardy.

Sincerely, Headmistress King

I set my phone to silent, throw on some clothes, check my hair in the mirror, and head out of the dorm. I don’t know where I’m going, but I’d rather die than pore over the giant paper map my parents left for me. Nothing says outsider like a junior with a map.

Thankfully, I fall in line with a group on their way out of Meyer. From snatches of their conversation, I gather that they’re headed to the auditorium too. They’re far too absorbed in their chitchat to even notice the new girl with them. As we head down, we pick up a couple more girls, including Billie from the bathroom. She’s talking to a tall blonde girl I haven’t met yet.

“Um, hi,” I say.

“Hello,” she responds. “I’m sorry, what’s your name? Some kind of flower?”

“Rose. Nice to see you again.”

“Likewise.” Her voice is flat. She turns to the blonde to continue their conversation, but the blonde is now staring at me.

“Hi, I’m June. You must be new.”

She’s one of the prettiest girls I’ve ever seen, and I’m not sure she knows it. Her flawless skin glows in the sun, gold flecks dance in her brown eyes, and her eyelashes cast shadows on her high cheekbones. She’s not wearing any makeup though, and her clothes are athletic wear that might be a size too big. Her only accessory is a sunflower ring. I look down at her sneakers. They’ve seen better days.

Shit, she’s still staring, and I haven’t answered.

“Rose,” I say. “My name is Rose.”

“Rose!” June exclaims. “Beautiful flowers. Hard to take care of. Who are you rooming with?”

“I’m Charlie’s roommate.”

June’s eyebrows shoot up. “Really? That must be… exciting.”

“To say the least.” Billie frowns. “Was she with you last night? We had a hard time finding her.”

It’s my turn to frown. “I just… I thought she was out with her friends.” June and Billie exchange a look.

June changes the subject. “Welcome to Livingston! We’re thrilled to have you.”

“Beyond chuffed,” Billie deadpans.

Jesus. Well, at least June’s trying. I’ve been nothing but cordial to Billie, so I’m not sure what kind of stick is up her ass. Whatever.

Since June seems open to conversation, I press my luck a little.

“Hey, uh, June,” I start. “I know we just met, but can I ask you something?”

She holds the door for me as we step outside. “Yeah, of course you can.”

Billie’s expression darkens, but she doesn’t butt in.

I think back to Charlie’s reaction in our room, the way she froze as she processed what I was saying. How fast she changed the subject.

“Charlie’s last roommate,” I say, “was she—uh, what happened?”

June’s face goes white. “Her sister? Eleanor?”

“We don’t talk about her sister,” Billie says.

I bite my lip. Of course they don’t. That would have been too easy. I guess I’ll have to bide my time.

“You shouldn’t mention Nell,” Billie says.

“Who?” I ask.

“Charlie’s sister,” she says. “Don’t bring her up in front of Charlie.”

“Especially if you’re roommates,” June says.

Shit, okay. Message received. I’ll have to be more careful what I say to Charlie and these girls. I keep getting shot down. Still, at least now I know that Charlie lived with her sister, Eleanor, or Nell for short, before… whatever happened.

The auditorium sits in the space between the dorms and the Arts and Sciences building. As we walk past the imposing brick facade on concrete paths shaded by trees, I can’t help feeling intimidated. Damp leaves stick to my boots—still green, but not for long. Connecticut gets cold, as my goosebumps remind me.

We pass more groups of students, but June and Billie don’t greet them. The other students’ eyes linger on me, struggling to recognize me, before moving on. At least I’m not the only new student on campus, thanks to the freshmen. I won’t stick out as badly.

I want to shrink down and hide among the blades of grass or wrap myself up in June’s golden hair until no one else here can see me.

Thankfully, there’s no sign of Charlie. I don’t know whether I’m ready to face her again, not when I’m so self-conscious and uncertain of myself.

At the top of the marble steps leading to the open doors, two girls hang around smoking. I catch a flash of red hair and try to keep moving, but to my horror, June grabs my arm and pulls me over to Charlie’s friend, a dark-haired Latina I haven’t met. Her winged eyeliner is as crisp as her black bob, and the stare she fixes on me cools my blood.

“We’ve been waiting for you,” Charlie says to June. She doesn’t look at me. A tiny green bandage covers the cut on her face.

June lets go of my hand and kisses the dark-haired girl on the mouth. The other girl’s lipstick transfers to June, tinting her lips red. She doesn’t seem to care. When she pulls away, she gestures to me. “Ronnie, this is Rose. Isn’t she pretty?”

Ronnie quirks an eyebrow at me. “Must be Charlie’s roommate.”

Was Charlie talking shit about me already?

Before I can fire off any retort, Charlie throws her cigarette down and stomps it out. She flips her hair over one shoulder. “Come on, let’s find seats.”

She’s not talking to me.

Billie cocks her head and studies me as the group of girls pass, leaving me to catch up. They might not want me to follow, but they’re the only ones I know. While June seems eager to include me, no one else does.

The girls file into a row of seats toward the back. I start to sit beside June, but then everyone is settled, and there are no seats left. June shoots me an apologetic glance. I swear Charlie smirks.

“Might have luck closer up,” Billie offers, only somewhat helpful.

Reluctantly, I trudge up the aisle until I find an empty seat on the end, about halfway up. My face is on fire, and I swear I feel everyone talking about me, trying to figure out what group I belong to. I’m the only one not caught up in conversation with friends.

Luckily, I don’t have to sit in awkward silence for long. A willowy woman with flowing blonde hair and perfect posture strides onto the stage with a book in her arms. She’s wearing a long black dress with a shawl that I mistake as a cape at first, the way it billows out behind her and makes it look like she’s gliding. Her heels click as she settles into place behind the podium. She adjusts the microphone and looks out over the crowd. I can’t see her eyes well, but I feel like she could look right through me if she wanted. I think she’s in her early twenties.

“Who’s that?” I whisper to the Asian girl beside me.

“Headmistress King,” she says.

I never expected the headmistress to be so close to my age.

“Good morning,” King booms into the microphone. It screeches with feedback, but she ignores it. A few people titter. “Good morning, ladies.”

Her voice is nothing like I expected. It’s authoritative, but not intimidating. She speaks in a singsong, but her face is all business.

A halfhearted chorus of “good morning, headmistress” echoes around the room. I stay silent, mostly because I have no clue what’s going on.

“A new academic year is upon us,” King intones. “That means a fresh start. Make the most of it, I urge you. Choose wisely what’s best for your future and remember that all actions—no matter how small—can have unintended consequences. And sometimes, those consequences can turn tragic.”

She pauses for a minute, for effect I think, until I hear murmurings and whispers all around me. Some girls bow their heads. The black girl on the other side of me closes her eyes.

“Eleanor Masters,” King continues, “was a light in the lives of the people who knew her throughout her eighteen years on this earth. Though that light may have dimmed, it will never go out.”

Charlie’s sister died. Shit. That’s why my room was open.

Another silence falls over the auditorium. I’ve never felt more excluded. I turn to look toward the back of the room, where Charlie and her friends are sitting, but I’m too short to see them.

Up at the podium, King clears her throat. “The administration would like to remind you all that if you’re struggling mentally or emotionally, please seek out campus resources. In addition to our regular counseling staff, we will also have some grief counselors with us for this quarter. And… you may come to me, personally, if you’re uncomfortable speaking with a counselor.”

She pauses again and shuffles her papers. “Take today to prepare for the year. Study well, engage with your classmates, and put your best foot forward. Remember, Livingston girls—”

“Shape the rest of the world,” the students finish in unison. Apparently, I was wrong about not feeling more left out.

A minute or two of chatter ensues while King collects her things. Another woman comes up to the microphone and launches into a speech about time management. I fight to keep my eyes open as another boring speaker follows, and then King returns to the microphone to send us off, thank God.

“That’s all for now, ladies. You are dismissed.”

Everyone stands, and I stand too. But as my row groups up in the aisle, something at the stage’s edge catches my attention. King has descended the staircase and is now absorbed in conversation with a tall, handsome man with sleek, dark hair and bright blue eyes—so bright that I can see them even from this distance. How did I miss his entrance?

King clutches her book to her chest. The man reaches for it and she steps back, shaking her head. They look up and catch me staring.

I blush, avert my gaze, and follow the other students out of the auditorium. A whiff of cigarette smoke smacks my face as soon as I’m outside. Charlie, June, Billie, and Ronnie are grouped up on the steps. Charlie smokes a cigarette and leans against a column. Ronnie lazily waves ribbons of smoke out of her face.

“‘You may come to me, personally’? Maybe she means that, but none of the other teachers want to talk to us.” Ronnie shakes her head. “They only care when it’s a teacher.”

“Last year,” Billie says. “They should have brought in counselors right after it happened.”

“Bureaucratic bullshit,” Charlie declares. “I’m not surprised, though. What did you expect?”

“She had to say that for the investors.” June twists the ring on her finger. “You know that. If she could, she’d–”

“My father is on the goddamn board of trustees. He’s been giving this school money for years. If they really gave a shit, they would have given me time off. Screw what the investors thought.”

“They didn’t give you any time off?” I ask.

Charlie cuts her eyes at me. “I’m sorry, can I help you?”

“Please, Charlie,” June butts in.

Charlie makes a face, but she leaves June alone. She flicks ash in my direction. “What happened is none of your business.”

“Where were you last night?” I ask.

The look she shoots at me is nothing short of scathing. “Not your business, either.”

Right away, I want to crawl under the dirt. Shit, why does she hate me when she doesn’t even know me? Maybe she’s right, maybe it really isn’t any of my business. Maybe I should go with another approach.

“I like your purse,” I say.

She looks at it. “Yeah. Oh, by the way, did you find a little vial in our room?” My heart climbs into my throat. “I uh, it… shattered.”

“What do you mean?” Her eyes are emerald fire. “How did that happen?”

“It fell out of your purse. I dropped it.”

“Well, which one is it?”

“I, uh, um.” They all stare at me. I’m going to puke. “It fell out of your purse. I picked it up and”—and it did some spooky shit—“and I dropped it.”

“And it shattered?” Charlie asks.

I break eye contact with her, not even chancing a glance at the others.

“You should leave us alone,” she says. “I’d hate for you to break something else.”

I want to disappear. Not for the first time, I wish I were back home, where I’d be spending time with family, or working on homework. I sure as shit wouldn’t be fumbling my way through a conversation with strangers who hate me for no reason.

Maybe I’ll go back to the dorms, try to do something productive. Write a new song, maybe play my guitar–something that will help keep my mind off how I’m feeling.

I drop my head to my chest and mumble an apology. I don’t care if Charlie hears it.

Charlie’s laugh and the smell of smoke seem to follow me as I trace the path through the trees back to the dorms. My chest is tight. My eyes burn.

More than anything, I want to break down and cry. I sit on a bench to the side of the walkway and bury my face in my hands. Stupid Charlie. Stupid girls who don’t want anything to do with me.

Stupid me too, for fucking up so bad I got shipped off in the first place.

“You’re an idiot.”

The voice is deep. My head snaps up.

At the edge of the forest, two figures lurk, talking. The man from the auditorium speaks with a boy who looks to be around my age. Though they murmur in hushed tones, the wind carries their words to me.

“You were supposed to ask the Masters girl to bring it to me,” the older man hisses. “I thought that was the plan.”

“Something came up,” the boy says.

“Your girlfriend didn’t cooperate?”

“I didn’t want to—”

“Earth and elementals, do you think I give a damn? If I spent any time thinking about what you wanted, son, nothing in this world would ever get done.”

The boy shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “Why don’t you ask King for it?”

“You don’t think I’ve tried?” The older man scoffs. “I all but threatened her over it today. If you had been there, you might have–”

The bench creaks as I shift my weight to get up. Shit.

His eyes flicker toward me. I freeze as his gaze travels over my face.

He scowls. “Not here. Let’s head back.”

The boy ducks his head. Together, the two of them head into the forest, disappearing in the trees.

I lean forward, bracing my palms against my thighs. What the hell was that? What were they talking about?

Whatever I heard, it didn’t sound good. Combined with the weird interaction between that man and King, something seems way off here. If I had one person here I thought I could trust, maybe I’d tell them about it.

Still, what can I say? I don’t know what I saw. I don’t know what I heard, what they talked about. I could go to King, but I don’t know her, and the thought of talking to her alone makes my stomach flip.

For now, I’ll keep what I saw to myself. What’s the worst that could happen?

tag list (let me know if you’d like to be added/removed): @lady-redshield-writes @smokescreens-n-otherillusions @cogwrites @nicholewrites @fireflys-locket

#writeblr #writerblr #livingston girls #my writing #my wip

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sammysdewysensitiveeyes · 4 years

Text

@thecorteztwins

Based on your idea about Pyro being unable to lift Haven. It was supposed to be funny, but this is Legacy Virus Pyro, so it got a little angsty.

It was, according to Dominic, a quick-and-easy, in-and-out job. Some fabulously wealthy Indian bird was holed up in one of New York’s luxury hotels, and they were going to ransom her for her family’s considerable wealth. And if the job went south, they’d just snatch up whatever cash and valuables she had in her room – he’d seen her in the papers, her earrings alone were probably worth thousands – and run off. Quick-and-easy was about all St. John could handle these days, but he had still angrily shrugged off Dominic’s “You sure you’re up to this?” because fuck, he wasn’t an invalid yet, was he? So he had lied, grinning with gritted teeth, and claimed that he was just dandy, that today was one of the “good” days.

Of course, there had been complications. Complications in the form of a hulking, muscular brute that claimed to be the rich chick’s brother. And he had powers. At least there were no bloody X-Men in sight. Yet.

“Go up the stairs, Johnny, I’ll handle this,” Avalanche ordered, as they both picked themselves up off the hotel lobby floor. The big guy had knocked them off their feet with a gust of wind, and now a storm was lashing the plate glass windows with rain and hail. It had been a clear sunny day just moments ago.

“You okay on your own?” St. John didn’t want to leave Dominic fighting solo with a guy who appeared to be a male Storm, and he really didn’t want to be ushered away from the “rough stuff,” like some kind of delicate child that needed protection. He tried to ignore the burning in his lungs.

“I got it, man, just finish the job!” Dominic shoved him towards the stairs while sending a seismic wave rippling across the lobby floor, knocking the big guy off his feet.

“Right.” Pyro sprinted up the stairs, letting adrenaline do the work, hoping he could make it to the luxury penthouse suite before he had a chance to feel how very tired he was. He needed to get this done, because it was for Dominic. Or rather, it was for Dominic’s ex-wife, who apparently needed a pot of money for heart surgery. St. John wasn’t entirely sure why Dominic was so hell-bent on helping a woman who had broken his heart, but if it was so important, St. John would have his back. Dominic had stuck his neck out trying to help him find a cure in the Savage Land, and St. John wasn’t going to die owing anyone favors.

There were guards at the door, of course, but a quick blast of flame made them drop their super-heated guns, and then a red bull made of fire chased them down the hall. There had been a red bull in some book he’d read years ago, but damned if he could remember the title now. He grinned as the guards bolted through the emergency exit. He still “had it,” even if using his powers now sent sharp, stabbing pains though his head. The lock on the door quickly melted, and he kicked it open.

The woman did not look surprised. Perhaps her brother had already informed her of the danger. She sat upright on a chaise lounge, with her flowing robes and impossibly long hair pooled around her, hands folded in her lap.

“Did you kill the guards? I hope you didn’t. They are good men, with families.”

“Nah, they…..ran like rabbits….guess you….guess you didn’t pay them enough…..” The run upstairs was catching up with him now, and he couldn’t help gasping for breath.

“I don’t want them to die for me,” said the woman. She hadn’t moved from her position on the couch, one of several scattered around the lavish suite. It was bigger than most apartments St. John had seen, and filled with fine furniture, and what appeared to be Indian artwork, similar to what he’d seen a lifetime ago as a travel writer. Radha Dastoor, the woman who called herself “Haven,” was supposedly some kind of charitable humanitarian, but of course she surrounded herself with luxury, like every other rich fuck Pyro had ever known. Certainly none of them were willing to wear the sackcloth and ashes, in his experience.

“Well, that’s good then. No one needs to die, love. We’ll make this nice and easy, and you won’t even get a scratch on that pretty face of yours.” She was stunningly beautiful, although there was something odd about her eyes, almost unnaturally calm.

“Is this about my message? Or do you simply want money?”

“The latter.” Perhaps in the Brotherhood days it would have been about her message – she was spreading some kind of New Age bullshit about humans and mutants living in harmony. Magneto probably would have wanted her eliminated – or maybe not. He could never keep track of the “Great Leader’s” ideology, and these days it was much harder to keep things straight in his head.

He grinned at her, and sent a jet of fire sweeping around the room. It hovered around the walls, but didn’t actually touch or burn anything. It would be a shame to destroy this swanky stuff, and this was just an intimidation tactic to get her up and out of the room faster. To his surprise, she remained seated, staring at him without a hint of fear.

“Look, darling, we’re not interested in hurting you, okay? It’s very simple. You’ve got money, and we need some. With the fortune you’ve got, you won’t even miss it. Now you just come with me, your lawyers will fork over some cash, and you can enjoy the rest of your day.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. I’ve got a speech to give this evening. And I’m not going to let myself be kidnapped. It won’t end well for any of us. Please put the fire out. People will get hurt if it spreads.”

“You seem to be confused, love. You don’t get a choice in this.” Pyro strode across the room, somewhere between amused and annoyed. These rich types always thought the universe would somehow bend to their will, even if there was someone literally pointing a weapon at their faces. He grabbed her wrist and attempted to pull her to her feet. She yanked her hand back, stronger than he expected.

“C’mon now, don’t struggle. That’s how people get hurt. I’m tryin’ to be gentle about this.” Haven was looking up at him, eyebrows pursed together in what appeared to be concern.

“You’re very thin,” she said.

“Yeah, no shit, love. I’ve always been a beanpole.” He gritted his teeth, blinking away sweat that dripped down into his eyes. The flame wall was lopsided and ragged at the edges, nowhere near his usual precision, and he wasn’t sure how long he could maintain it with the pounding in his head. He leaned in, and she shrank away, probably getting entirely the wrong idea as he wrapped his arms around her, taking care not to put his hands anywhere inappropriate. Pyro was known as a terrorist, thief, murderer and all-around criminal, but he wasn’t known as a rapist, and he didn’t want that on his reputation. He tried to lift her from the couch, while she pushed against him and kicked.

“C’mon, don’t….” He gasped, his breath starting to catch in his throat as burning pain shot through his chest. “Don’t make this…..I won’t hurt you, just…..just give me a bloody break, love!” Why was she so unnaturally heavy? And so freakishly tall? Or had his arms really gotten that weak? His grip slipped as she shoved him backwards, and he staggered, unable to stop the coughing fit that tore out of him. He dropped to his knees, shoulders shaking. For fucks sake, could he not hold it together long enough to pull off one easy job for Dominic?

Suddenly, he felt a strong pair of arms wrap around his chest from behind. Before he could struggle, he was being lifted up onto the couch, leaning back against the cushion as he wheezed. The flame wall, which had mostly been maintained by his own concentration, had largely evaporated, and he waved a hand to extinguish the remnants that had fallen to the floor. This didn’t need to get any more out of control than it already was.

“You are extremely ill.” Haven was now hovering over him, putting her hands on his cheeks and turning his head to peer into his eyes. The mask hid the worst of the lesions, but he couldn’t really hide how sharp his cheekbones had become, jutting out of a gaunt face. “You should be in a hospital. I will arrange for –“

“No, no hospital!” Pyro snarled, although it came out as more of a croak. Once he went into a hospital, he was never coming out. They’d jam him full of tubes and keep him breathing long after he devolved into an incoherent, drooling, shitting sack of flesh. And that was the best case scenario – if they recognized him and called the authorities, he’d breathe his last strapped down in a SHIELD holding cell. He was going to die anyway, at least at his apartment he had booze and porn and some god-damned privacy. And he had everything he needed to end things on his own terms, when it came to that.

“They can’t help me,” he continued. “It’s…..” He couldn’t quite bring himself to say the word “terminal,” even though it hung in his mind like a black flag. “There’s no cure.”

“I’m sorry,” said Haven, and the look of compassion on her face seemed to indicate that she actually meant it. Usually people didn’t. “I’m sorry” was usually such bullshit, better translated to, “Better you than me, mate.”

“Perhaps I could…..” Haven stopped and trailed off, her head cocked to one side, as if listening to something Pyro could not hear. “No? No, it seems it is not the right time. I’m sorry. I don’t always understand the workings of the divine, but I most obey.” She reached out and clutched his hand in hers.

Pyro shrugged as his breathing gradually came back under control, although it was still a painful wheeze. Today had really not been one of the “good” days. And obviously this woman was crazy. A lot of rich types were, especially if they got religion. But at least she appeared to be genuinely nice. He felt oddly comforted sitting on the couch, holding her hand, even though either the police or some do-gooder X-Team was probably on their way.

“Are you for real? Most people aren’t this nice during a robbery.”

“I try to see the world with compassion. I want to ease suffering, and you are suffering. Is that why you need money? For treatment?”

“Not treatment for me. There’s no treatment for me. A friend needs help. He’s down there with your brother, probably getting’ his bell rung.”

“Monsoon can be very….overenthusiastic, but he only wants to protect me. I will contact him, and perhaps we can work this out peacefully.”

Dominic, with his face pressed against the shattered rubble of the hotel lobby, and a 200 lb man sitting on his back, reflected that this job had been a complete shit-show. All the rich socialite “humanitarians” in New York city, and he had tried to rob and kidnap the woman with a mutant for a brother. Above him, Monsoon shifted his weight, and Avalanche winced at the pressure on his ribs. Maybe it was closer to 300 lbs? Worse, he had dragged Johnny out into this, and the man was in no condition to be running around, no matter how many times he said he was “fine.” He seemed to be running on pure, stubborn pride these days.

“Look, fella, my partner is up there with your sister, so unless you want him to torch her, you’d better let me up,” he tried. He could, of course, shake the entire building off its foundations. And that would kill everyone inside, including him, Johnny, and the spoiled rich bitch they were here to rob. Monsoon stared down at him, contemptuous and silent. Then his phone chirped.

“Yes? Are you okay? Understood.” He snapped the phone closed, and hauled Avalanche up to his feet, with one arm twisted around his back.

“It’s over,” Monsoon said simply. “She wants to talk to you.” And he began to drag Avalanche over to the elevator.

“Wait, what’s over? What happened? Is Pyro….” He trailed off. Haven had a team of bodyguards with her, and they had probably been posted at her room. Bodyguards with guns, and Johnny was off his game these days. Dominic would never be able to forgive himself if he’d gotten his best friend killed, even if it was the kind of death he might prefer over slowly wasting away. Monsoon was frustratingly silent as the elevator took them up.

“Look, this is on me, okay? This was my job, I pushed him into it. You can have me, but let Pyro go, okay?” The only thing worse than Johnny getting gunned down while doing him a favor would be Johnny dying in jail. Dominic was ready to do anything to keep that from happening. But he was met with only silence while being dragged down the hallway towards the room. There were scorch marks on the carpet, but no blood, which made him sigh with relief. He wasn’t entirely sure what he expected to see when he was pushed through the doorway into Radha Dastoor’s suite, but he still stopped short in surprise.

Pyro was sitting on the sofa next to the woman who called herself Haven, both looking up as Avalanche came through the door. Pyro had a blanket draped around his shoulders, and was clutching a steaming mug of something that smelled like spice. He looked vaguely guilty behind his mask, while her face was a perfect picture of calm.

“What….what the hell, man?” Avalanche spluttered.

“I’m sorry, Dom,” Pyro shrugged, using one hand to gesture helplessly at Haven. “She’s just…too nice. I can’t do it, mate. She’s too nice.”

“Too nice? Are you kidding me?!” Monsoon let a heavy hand fall upon his shoulders, forcing Dominic to his knees while Haven glided over to him. And as she knelt and began to coo over the bruises that her brother had left on his face, he realized exactly what Pyro meant.

Notes: Haven is probably going to write a check for Dominic’s wife’s treatment, and then let them go. I realized I needed a reason why Haven wouldn’t attempt to heal Pyro like she tried with Jamie, so I’m thinking the Adversary told her “No,” because it didn’t want her to fail (and possibly destroy the faith she had in her cause).

#pyro #st. john allerdyce #avalanche #dominic petros #haven #radha dastoor #monsoon

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peaakyhoe · 6 years

Text

Through The Words

Note: This chapter was supposed to be very long but in the end I told myself that I was going to shorten it and spread it on the second chapter, if all goes as expected the second chapter should come out within a week or two! Hope you will enjoy this and let me know if this is the case thanks!!!!

(Btw I’m sorry for aaaall for all the mistakes you could find there, I checked 30000 times to see if there was nothing but English is not my native language so I apologize.)

Warning: Death, swearing, some flirt

Pairing: Tommy x OC

Gifset: 1 / 2

Chapters: Prologue / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6

Chapter 1: Burning Desire

Firenze 1919

The metal is heavy and cold in her hand.

Just like the power she have.

The right of life or death that she only holds in one hand.

She could press the trigger but she hesitates.

She doesn't point her gun at a stranger this time.

She blinks to ward off the tears that are accumulated at the corners of her hazel eyes.

Her breath is cut off, her heart beat fast and she swears he could hear it.

She should squeeze the trigger, that's what her father asks her to do.

That's what her father ordered her to do.

"That's what we must do to the people who betray us. They only deserves death." He had told her.

Beyond betrayal, she had to do it for the name.

There was a reputation, a name to be respected and the price of all this was death.

"There are no friends, no allies, only enemies." His words echoed in her head and yet they still doesn't sound right.

With her left hand she put the envelope in front of him again, her eyes filled with hope.

"I don't want to do that." She sighs. "Just take the bloody money and the tickets, give me the names and leave the country with your family...please... this is the only escape I can offer you." She begged hopeless.

And she was hopeless and angry and sad, she had grown up with him, he was like an uncle and he has betrayed her family without giving any explanation, she was mad at him and yet she couldn't blame him for that.

Whatever the reason, she was hoping it was a good one.

Toni shook his head and pushed the envelope towards her.

"No, I can't do that, I don't want to leave my country, I rather die here."

She scoffed and looked straight in his eyes.

"And what about your wife and children?" She asks, arching an eyebrow. "He'll kill them, do you know that? He'll kill them for avoiding any fucking vendetta, but here you are, refusing a lot of money and tickets for a new life for pure patriotic pride? What kind of man will give up his family for his country?" She asked, open-mouthed and eyebrows furrowed.

"A man like me." He answered without blinking.

She bowed her head in defeat, her eyes closed as a long sigh escaped her lips.

“I know your father love, he will find me and he will make sure that my wife and children are killed in front of me before putting an end to my life, I don't want to see that. I have the choice to choose today who will put an end to my life and I want it to be you. "

“Your family?” She said almost as low as a whisper.

“Give them the tickets, tell them it was my fault and my own decision and tell them I loved them with all of my heart and I will always love them."

"So you made your choice?" She said, her eyes filled with tears.

"I'm ready to met God." He lifted his head proudly, his gaze devoid of any fear.

She rolled her eyes and met his deep blue ones.

"If there is a God." She smile slightly.

“Always so cynical.”

“Am I?”

They smiled at each other as a tear ran down her rosy cheek.

"I'm sorry." She whispered.

"Don't be." He take her hand in his and kissed the back of it. "Thank you for what you have done for me and my family and I'm sorry for what I have done to yours."

"I know." She squeezed his hand as her words left her mouth.

"Go on love, I'm ready."

"I hope for you that you will find your place in heaven."

"Addio Giulia."

She cock the gun back with her thumb before poiting it at him.

“Addio Toni.”

When she squeezed the trigger, she could swear that she felt her heart shattered, the bullet going straight in his head, drops of blood squirted on her face mixing with her fresh tears as his body collapsed on the table in front of her.

She quickly got up from her chair and left the shop with blood and tears staining her angelic face.

Now she was far from looking like an angel.

She was far from being an angel.

She was a demon in disguise.

The sweet peculiar melody of the violin echoed in the house.

Her left hand gripping the violin's neck, her jaw resting on the chin strap as she slid the bow against the strings revealing the beauty and complexity of Bach's melody.

She was in a trance, biting her lower lip, her eyes closed, her hand sliding rapidly along the strings, a few brown locks falling on her face, her rosy cheeks brightening her olive skin.

It was her way to disappear for a moment in a world of peace and serenity.

The relaxing sound of the instrument sounded like heaven to her ears.

The only way to calm and silence her demons for a little while.

But her world of peace and serenity collapsed as soons as she heard that deep voice calling from behind her.

A voice she had never heard and yet she would have sworn it was familiar to her ears.

“Beautiful.” Was the word she heard.

She turned to face him, the violin now resting on her lap as she frown slightly at the stranger.

Dark brown hair, eyes so cold that it could freeze blood at a glance, ciselled cheekbones and plump lips.

He was so handsome, she had rarely seen such a beautiful man in her life, he looked like a statue that could have been carved in marble by God himself, the definitions of his face so precise that it became surreal.

“Who are you?” She demand confuse and still startled to have been interrupted in her peaceful moment.

“Thomas Shelby but you can call me Tommy if you want to.” He simply said with a smirk.

Her lips parted to answer him but not finding the right words she nodded and smiled slightly.

"Well.." She finally said. " I didn't imagined you like this."

Her gaze wandering on his face as she raises her eyebrows before looking deep in his blue icy eyes.

“Like what?” He ask arching an eyebrow.

“Handsome.” She answer as she got up, her violin now in her left hand.

She approached him and held out her right hand that he grabbed in his large calloused one and carried it to his plump lips, kissing her knuckles as he looked in her dark brown eyes.

Mesmerizing was the word she would use to describe him.

His stare so intense that it was impossible to look elsewhere despite how intimidating he was.

She just couldn’t look away and she wasn’t quite sure that she would like to if she could.

Even when he let go of her hand, she could still feel the burning addictive contact of his lips against her smooth skin and for a moment she wondered what taste his pretty plump lips would have against hers.

“So you like Bach?” His words pulling her from her thoughts.

She looked at him and smiled.

“You know Bach?”

“Yes, does it surprise you?” He asks, taking out a metal case from his jacket.

He took out two cigarettes, one of which he handed to the young woman, she took the cigarette between her fingers and brought it to her lips.

He leaned forward and brought the lighter to her lips, the fire lighting up her angelic face as he lit her cigarette.

Thomas Shelby had never seen a nymph before but he could swear to god that the woman in front of him was one.

Olive skin, dark hazel eyes full of mischief, long black eyelashes, plump cheeks and lips just begging to be kissed.

She had long brown wavy hair that fell of her shoulders and she wore a long red satin dress who could corrupt even the most pious angel.

If she wasn’t a nymph then she was for sure a goddess.

And in a split second, lost in her eyes he becomes fascinated, her face more breathtaking than any art that the world could offer, she was so sweet, so pure and yet in the deepest of her eyes he could clearly see the devil in it.

“No, not at all but you don’t look like the type of man who enjoy Bach melody.” Her sweet voice echoed in his head, reminding him to come back from where his mind wandered.

“And what kind of man do I look like Miss.Di Marzio?” His tone arrogant and bored.

“You look like a fancy businessman who is too busy to go to a concerto.” She looked straight in his eyes, her voice sweet and innocent. “Does that answer satisfy you, Mr. Shelby?” She added playfully.

He scoffed and looked elsewhere for a moment before smiling.

“If it was you who played the violin I will surely find time to go to a concerto.” He tease as smoke escaped from his lips. “You’re gifted.”

“And there is a lot of other things in which I am gifted Mr.Shelby.”

He looked at her, his eyes becoming more black than blue, licking his lips quickly before he pushed them into a slight practically invisible smirk.

The sight only made her weak as chills ran down her spine.

"And what kind of things is that?" Tommy replied peering down at her, smirking.

"Perhaps,if you deserves it I'll show you one day." She tore her eyes away from his in a grin as smoke escaped her pink lips.

Tommy nearly laughed, shaking his head as he take a drag of his cigarette.

"Show what?" A melodious familiar voice interrupted them, she looked over Tommy's shoulder and smiled.

"My paintings." Giulia responded as she walked past Tommy, snuggling in her brother's open arms.

"Aye, your paintings!” He smiled. “Did you know Tommy that my little sister was an artitst? Everything she touch turn into gold!" He said sarcastically even though he thought what he was saying.

"It must be useful." Tommy smirked.

Valentino laughed and nodded.

"You shouldn’t listen to him, he likes to make me look like Michaelangelo but in reality it's not as incredible as he says."

"Lia you are too humble."

"It seems that this is my highest quality." She grin. "I missed you." She add taking him in her arms once again.

He smiled and kissed the top of her head.

"I don't want to tarnish your mood, but papà want to see you." He state in a sympathetic voice, rubbing her arm gently.

“He can't let me breathe more than a minute can he?" She sigh as she walked towards the open door. “It was a pleasure to meet you Thomas.” She said loudly enough for him to hear while she went down the stairs.

"Valentino says that you wanted to see me." She said stepping in her father's office.

He looked up at her and nodded.

"I didn't know you were back until your mother came screaming at me because your clothes were stained with fresh blood, why didn't you come to see me when you came back?" He asked coldly.

"I wanted to take a bath to clean the fresh blood." She repeats boredly.

Giulia walked to the desk and smashed the rest of her cigarette in the ashtray.

Francisco looked down at the ashtray and then he looked up at her.

"Since when do you smoke?" He frowns.

Giulia stared at him, straight in the eyes, her hands resting flat on the desk leaning slightly to him.

"Since I kill people for you, it's calming my nerves." She replied bitterly.

Francisco sank into his seat staring at his daughter as a slight laugh leave his mouth.

"Alright." He cleared his throat before looking down at his work as if she wasn’t here anymore. "Did he give you names?"

"No." She spoke harshly.

"So you killed him?" He says looking at her again.

"I did what you asked me to do." She answered matter-of-factly.

"And his family?"

Giulia scoffed and shooked her head annoyed.

"How can you be like this?" She says, anger taking possession of her.

"Like what?" The tone of his voice rose.

"Fucking heartless!" She bites back.

"You think I'm heartless?" Francisco raised his eyebrows. “Umm? I’m heartless?” He repeat harshly offended by her words as his fist hit the wood.

Giulia didn't flinch at his hard temper, she just stared at him disdainfully, he didn't scared her, actually she was more scared by her mother than her father while her mother had never raised her voice, she was always sweet and loving which is the exact opposite of her father.

“Without me you..." He start angrier than before.

"Yes you are!” She cut him off." And one day your actions will make you lose everything and that day you will remember that I will have warned you." With that she turner her back to him and walked out of his office.

Despite everything she loved her father, she loved him deeply and she knew that he loved her more than anything in the world but he played with her nerves and since the war he wasn't the same anymore.

As far as she remembers he always had a strong temper but since his return from France it was all the more emphasized.

He was far from the only one who had changed when he came back from the war, her brothers had changed too, but it was different, they tried to forget, they tried not to let their demons win even though she knew that it was far from being easy, but at least they tried.

Her father was different, it was as if he had given up hope, as if he had been overwhelmed by the devil.

And she knew it was because he blamed himself for Pietro's death.

Everyone in this damn family blamed themselves for what happened to him, because it was Pietro, because Pietro was like an angel amongs demons, sweet, loving and caring, because if there is one thing that Pietro doesn't deserve, it was death.

The room was empty, calm, the only light, the flames of the candles lighting the room with an orange hue.

Tommy was sitting on the couch, staring up at the ceiling, a glass of whiskey on the table next to the couch and a cigarette in his hand. He straightened up and took his drink, swallowing the liquid that remained before resting it on the table before turning to Giulia.

"Valentino told me that you were studying psychology?"

Tommy take a drag of his cigarette while his arm spread on the back of the sofa, his eyes were burning on her, the sensation alone causing a warmth on her cheeks that soon tinged with a slight pink.

"Did I make you blush?" He smirk proudly.

She shook her head and brought her drink to her mouth, she take a sip before resting it on the table in front of her and sinking on the sofa, ignoring his comment.

"Yes, but I recently received an offer in a newspaper with a rather high position and I don't know yet if I will accept.” She said honestly.

“Why not? You have nothing to lose?” Tommy ask frowning.

“Oh I have a lot to lose, my father would kill me if he learned that I left my studies to be a journalist. For him it's as unprofitable as being an artist, what a pity for him to have a daughter who loves to paint as much as to write.“

“Your father is a cunt, I think you should accept, you’re good with words.”

Giulia's face lit up with a smile as well as Tommy's.

"You, Thomas Shelby are really a charming man, I bet every women are head over heels for you, am I wrong?"

Tommy smiled smugly while he carried his cigarette to his mouth.

"Are you?"

Giulia looked at him,bitting down her lower lip and holding his gaze longer than she had done before. She got up and climbed onto his lap, she leaned over him, taking his cigarette between her fingers and crushing it into the ashtray on the table next to him.

She was sight in her thin robe which gives a glimpse of her chest and her long messy brown hair falling on her shoulders.

He took a lock of her hair that fell on her face and put it behind her ear, his eyes never leaving hers, and his thumb gently stroking her cheekbone.

His right hand traveled on her bare thigh, her skin as soft as silk as he went up to her waist, gripping it firmly through the thin satin black robe she wore.

Her thighs were burning and she could almost felt wet under the weight of his gaze.

She leaned toward him, her lips only inches away from his, she could feel the alcohol and the cigarette on his breath, she could almost taste it and God know she wanted to.

Her eyes altering between his beautiful blue eyes and his beautiful pink lips.

When he leaned over to capture hers she smiled and pulled back.

“You wish.” She whispered into his ear, taking his earlobe between her teeth, sucking it into her warm mouth before putting a kiss on his cheek and pulling back, grinning at him with a hint of lust in her eyes. “Have a goodnight Mr.Shelby.”

#Tommy Shelby #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x oc #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders au #nina dobrev #cillian murphy

42 notes · View notes

bxcketbarnes · 6 years

Text

Lurkin’

Pairing: Bob Morley x Reader

Author: @ninja-stiles

Words: 2515

Author’s Note: So, my wifey ( @nothisisstiles ) gave me this idea that she got from this video. It’s a bit spicy so I hope you enjoy it!

Being apart of The 100 family was truly a blessing. Every single person involved with this show is an absolute sweetheart. Since I haven’t been acting that long, getting a call from the producers saying I got the part of Ofelia shocked the hell out of me. I would also be lying if I said that the cast of this show didn’t intimidate me because they did. The more and more time I spent with them the less intimidating they became the more relaxed I felt and realized I could be myself.

We were in the middle of shooting season two and I was standing behind the directors, watching Bob and Eve, who played Maya, act out their scene where Bellamy contacts Raven for the first time through the radio in Mount Weather. I stood in my outfit which is basically a lot of bandages wrapped around my chest and pelvis since Ofelia is one of the forty-six that’s locked in the cages that’ll eventually be taken to collect bone marrow from our bodies. My eyes roamed over Bob, taking my bottom lip between my teeth as I took in his appearance. Damn, he looks really good. If I had to picture Bellamy, it’d be this.

“Could you make it any more obvious that you’re staring?” I heard Marie ask and I jumped, turning around quickly as she stood behind me, a smirk on her lips.

“I am not staring,” I mumbled, rolling my eyes as I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m just watching their scene.”

“Yeah, that’s why you’re biting your lip and basically undressing him with your eyes,” she chuckled, shaking her head as my cheeks flushed. “C’mon, Y/N, you can’t hide the fact that you have a crush on Bobby!” I covered her mouth with my hand, looking around us as no one seemed to hear what she said.

“Jesus, Marie could you be any louder?” I asked, feeling my cheeks basically on fire as I ran my fingers through my hair. She patted my shoulder, giving me an innocent smile as the two of us made our way towards some chairs, sitting down in them.

“Look, it’s alright. Bob’s a sweetheart and I’m sure he’d definitely go out with you,” she reassured me and I shook my head.

“There’s no way Bob would go out with someone like me. H-He’s way out of my league,” I muttered, looking towards the cute freckled man as he and Eve finished their scene. His eyes met mine and I quickly looked away, can’t help the blush darkening on my cheeks as I looked at Marie. “Please tell me he’s not coming this way,” I whispered to her and she pressed her lips together.

“Hey, Y/N. It’s time for our scene,” I heard his Australian accent seep through his American accent as I looked up at him, nodding my head. He gave me a small smile as I stood up, making my way towards the set as I glanced back at Marie, seeing her give me a cheeky wink. I groaned louder than I wanted too, getting a confused look from Bob. “You alright?” He asked and I gulped, glancing towards him.

“Y-Yeah, I’m just a bit nervous and I hate being in small places,” I half-lied, tangling my fingers together as I gave him a nervous grin.

“You’ll do great. You always do,” Bob mumbled, his eyes roaming my body. My cheeks heat up under his gaze, biting the inside of my cheek as we made it onto the set. Bob opened the cage door for me and I could feel myself beginning to sweat, dropping to my knees in front of him. I could see Bob’s cheek flush a bit, turning a bit pinkish as I chuckled, getting into the cage.

“Oh, Jesus. Let’s hurry this scene up,” I told him and he nodded his head, closing and locking the cage as he walked over to the place he was supposed to stand.

“Alright and action!” The director yelled and I took a deep breath.

I laid my face against the cage trying to see if any more of our people were in here, but I couldn’t see anything. I shook the door of the cage, begging for it to miraculously open but it doesn’t budge. I heard the door open and my breath hitched in my throat, moving towards the back of the cage as I pretended I wasn’t there, trying to be as quiet as I could, so I didn’t get chosen next.

“Ofelia?” I heard a familiar voice and I perked my head up as far as I could without hitting it against the top of the cage. “Ofelia are you in here?”

“Bellamy?” I asked quietly, leaning towards the front of the cage as Bellamy crouched down. “Oh my god, Bell. What are you doing here?” I questioned, lacing my fingers through the holes of the cage, looking over his face.

“I’m here to get you guys out of this damn mountain,” he muttered and I noticed the guard’s outfit he’s wearing.

“Thank god. I don’t know how much longer I can stand being in this cage,” I muttered, letting out a sigh as his fingers touched mine.

“Don’t you worry, ‘Felia, I’m getting you out of here,” Bellamy whispered and I nodded my head, feeling tears come to my eyes.

“Bellamy, I’m scared,” I whimpered, my lip trembling a bit as he frowned.

“You’ll be okay, alright? Stay strong for me,” he mumbled and I nodded once more, sniffling a bit. “I’ll come back for you. I promise.” Tears streamed down my face as I watched him walk out of the room.

“And cut! Beautiful you two,” the director grinned and I let out a sigh of relief. Bob walked back over to the cage, unlocking the door as I practically leap out of the cage.

“Oh thank god,” I laughed, laying on the ground as I heard Bob and a few other people on the set laugh as well. The Australian cutie held his hand out for me to take and I grab it as he helps me off the floor. One of the directors walked up to us, laying a hand on my shoulder.

“Y/N, you’re becoming a better actress day after day. I’m really glad to be working with you. You’re tons of fun, keep up the good work!” He smiled and I nodded my head, grinning at the elder man.

“Thank you so much. I’m super glad to be here,” I grinned, glancing up at Bob whose eyes were already on me.

The directors have decided to let us actors have a few hours off of work since we’ve been recording scenes for about six hours. I was sitting at a picnic table with Lindsey, Eliza, and Marie chatting about random things when something that Marie mentions gives me an idea.

“Isn’t it odd that Bob’s been in his trailer for a super long time?” She asked and the other two girls shrugged their shoulders, not really providing their two-sense on it.

“He has? Oh my god. I’m going to play a prank on him. Be right back,” I muttered, getting up from the table as I got my phone out of my jacket pocket. I put it in video mode as I stood outside his trailer, turning the camera towards myself. “Alright, so apparently Bobby has been locked in his trailer since we were given our break and I thought it’d be great to scare the shit out of him,” I giggled, biting my lip softly, “here we go!” I turned the camera back around, quietly opening his trailer door, stealthily making my way inside.

I ignored the pounding of my heart as I looked in, not seeing him anywhere. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, about to leave when I hear a quiet moan coming from inside. What the fuck? I step inside, quietly closing the door behind me as I made my way towards the noise. The moaning became a bit louder as I could feel my cheeks heat up, but also feel my heart plummeting. Is he with someone?

“Holy fuck,” I heard him moan, quietly stepping forward as I pressed my ear against the bathroom door. “Oh yeah. Right there, Y/N,” he moaned out and my eyes widened. Oh my god… I took a step back, tripping over one of his shoes as I let out a small scream, falling onto my ass. A loud clatter echoed out from the bathroom as I mentally cursed myself, quickly getting off the floor, running towards the door of the trailer, hoping to get out before Bob sees me. “Y/N? What are you doing here?” I heard him ask me and I let out a sigh, turning around.

“Uhm, I was… is this not my trailer? Silly me,” I mumbled, reaching for the door handle when I heard Bob say my name again. “Alright, fine. I was going to prank you by scaring the fuck out of you, but y-you seemed a bit occupied…”

“Oh, god. You heard that?” He asked and I nodded my head, feeling my cheeks heat up. I stepped towards him, licking my lips a bit as I stood inches from him.

“It’s okay, though. I feel a bit honored,” I smiled at him, trailing my hand up his chest as I heard his breath hitch. “If only asked me for help, you wouldn’t have to imagine what it’d feel like,” I whispered, biting my lip. I watched his eyes flutter shut as I stood on my tippy toes, pressing my lips to his neck. Bob’s hands held my hips, pulling me closer to his body before his hands dip under my shirt.

“Jesus, Y/N…” he groaned, moving his hands past my ass, each hand gripping the back of my thighs before picking me up. I let out a gasp, wrapping my legs around his waist as he carried me over towards the couch, Bob sitting down on it before setting me onto his lap. I straddled his hips, moving away from him as I ran my fingers through his hair.

“Is this actually happening?” I asked myself quietly, hearing Bob chuckle as his fingers tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

“This is happening, unless you don’t want it to,” he whispered, his thumb softly rubbing my cheekbone.

“No, no, I do. I-uh-I like you a lot,” I mumbled, looking down at him as he grinned. I could feel my heart pound against my rib cage as we just stared at each other. Bob pulled me closer to him, pressing his lips to mine as my eyes widened for a second before they began to flutter shut. I moved my lips against his, tugging gently at his curly hair as a small groan escaped his lips.

“Y/N, stop,” he muttered against my lips and I smirked, slowly pulling away from him before tugging once more. Bob’s dark brown eyes slowly shut, leaning his head back as his lips were parted. One of his hands ran through my hair, tugging my head back as he pressed his lips to my neck like I had done earlier. My stomach flipped, feeling his teeth graze my skin as a moan leaves my lips.

“B-Bob,” I moaned, my hands gripping his shirt as I try to tug it off. He moved away from me, shrugging his shirt off, throwing it to the floor as my eyes glanced over him. His hands went back to my hips, moving my ass against his as I could feel his member becoming harder. I tugged my jacket off, revealing the outfit I had on in our scene as Bob’s lips connected with my collarbone.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he mumbled against my skin, my nails digging into his shoulder as he sucked and bit my skin. I moaned, glancing down at him as he left a purple mark on my chest.

“Bob! I’m not done filming in this outfit,” I groaned as he looked up at me, a smirk on his lips.

“That may be true, but-,” he started but was cut off by a knock on his trailer door.

“Bob! Have you seen Y/N? They’re ready for her scene,” I heard Marie ask and I began to panic. I quickly got off his lap, losing my footing as I was rushing and end up tripping over my own two feet. Curse my clumsiness. “Bob? Everything okay?” She asked and the door opened, Marie stepping inside the trailer, her eyes widening.

“H-Hi, Marie,” I mumbled, pushing myself up off the floor as I grabbed my jacket, draping it over my shoulders. She looked at the both of us, noticing Bob’s shirt missing and both our cheeks red as a fire hydrant.

“What’s going on here?” She asked, pointing between the two of us as my lips parted, trying to come up with some kind of excuse.

“Uhm, we were practicing our lines… yeah,” I mumbled, zipping my jacket as she laughed, shaking her head.

“Yeah, that’s what you were doing. Anyway, you’re needed on set,” Marie told me, giving me a knowing smirk as I nodded my head. Once she left his trailer, I let out a deep breath, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

I turned towards Bob, seeing him leaning back on the couch as he looked at his hands that rested on his lap. “I uhm, have to go… do my job,” I chuckled, blushing majorly as he nodded, getting up off the couch.

“When you're done with your scene, come back to see me?” He asked, smiling down at me as I nodded my head. “Good. Oh, by the way, I like you too,” Bob grinned and my heart skipped a beat, a smile forming on my lips. I leaned on my toes, pressing my lips to his once more as I put all the passion I’ve felt for the Australian before I need to go.

I made my way back to set, taking off my jacket as Marie gasped, her eyes trained on my chest. “What are you-oh,” I mumbled, remembering that Bob left a mark on my chest as I called one of my makeup artists over.

“We are so talking about this later,” Marie whispered to me as the artist covered up the love bite. I nodded my head, already feeling my cheeks heat up as I glanced back towards Bob’s trailer, seeing him standing outside of it with a small smirk on his lips.

I’m so getting you back for this, Bobby.

#bob morley #bob morley x reader #bob x reader #bob morley x reader imagine #bob x reader imagine #bob morley x reader imagines #bob x reader imagines #bob morley imagines #bob morley imagine #the 100 #the 100 cast #bob morley fanfiction #bob morley fanfic #bob morley fic #bob morley smut #bob morley fluff

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theonewiththefanfics · 6 years

Text

Stronger Than You Know (part 1)

Synopsis: For two years the Elvenking has been able to live in bliss after centuries of sorrow with his now-wife Y/N- a strongwilled human woman who is regarded as one of the most stubborn people anyone has ever met. But when darkness invades her heart to what measures will the people that love her go to, just to see the bright girl brought back to light once more?

Pairing: Thranduil x Reader

Genre: this is so full of fluff you’ll get cavities

Warnings: some sexy time implications

Word count: 4627

Part 2

Part 3- END

Thranduil couldn’t help himself as his slender fingers traced the outline of his wife's soft facial features. The sleek arch of her eyebrow, smoothly gliding over to her still closed eyelids that hid mesmerising Y/E/C pools. Over her nose lingering on the tip of it, right down to her cupid's bow as his thumb softly ghosted over the lips he got lost in every night, morning and throughout the day. He grazed her jawline and cheekbone before his fingers lightly touched her round ear, so different from his pointy elven one. Yes, the Woodland King himself had fallen for a human. A woman bestowed with immortality, but a human nonetheless. When they had first met she was accompanying Bard to a council meeting. Thranduil didn’t even notice her upon their greeting, not until a quarrel had started while discussing some strategy for another upcoming war. “How dare you treat me with such disrespect, firen?” he hissed the words to the girl. But to his surprise, she was not intimidated by the elf at all. “My respect needs to be earned and you haven’t done so. Show some to me and I shall grant some in return.” “Y/N,” Bard had gently grabbed her hand underneath the table, to try and tame the fire that threatened to spew over the lips of the woman. Thranduil’s eyes had widened at the statement. He couldn’t believe she would talk back to him like that. A mere mortal would disgrace him! But in the pit of his stomach and the back of his mind, something that had been slumbering for a long time had awoken and an incredible need to find out more about the fearless girl emerged.

That night they were holding a feast and of course, he expected who he know had learned was Y/N to attend. What he had not anticipated was the breath catching in his throat as she had descended the stairs. A dress made from the finest silks and fabrics clung to her every curve. Her gait and posture was almost ethereal as if hovering inches above the floor rather than walking upon it. If he hadn’t seen her non-pointed ears or had no inclination that she was a human, the girl could easily pass for an elleth. Her face was split in a smile that stretched from her one human ear to the other as her Y/E/C eyes roamed over the mass of people- elven, dwarf and human alike- and they glinted as her gaze caught where her friends stood around, bellowing laughter coming from the small circle. Her laughter echoed in response, through the ginormous chamber and even though it was filled to the brim with guests, to Thranduil it felt like the first time life had once again sprung in his kingdom. He watched her rush to her friends and throw her body onto Bard’s back. “Of course, she would be courted by him,” the King thought to himself as he made his way through the crowd. That weird feeling once again arose, this time accompanied by something bitter and unpleasant. Y/N bellowed another laugh and the King’s heart clenched with a longing he didn’t know could still overcome his body. It wasn’t jealousy of the happiness between Bard and the feisty girl, though it didn’t help in any shape or form. He had accepted the passing of his late Queen many centuries ago, even though the wound sometimes still bled, especially when he looked upon his son Legolas, the only thing she had left behind for him. No. This was his want to make the girl laugh like that, to grant her happiness with every step she took and make her worries disappear with every breath that went into her lungs. How could a human capture his heart like that in a time that spanned less than a full day? She was holding onto Bard’s shoulder, jumping up and down as they moved towards the large dining table where Thranduil himself had already sat down at the end of it. The crown of branches and berries atop his silver hair, the blue eyes turned into a steely gaze as he roamed over the girl’s body. “Oh, shut it, Bard!” she exclaimed in joy and the man had a matching smile plastered on his face. “You know I’m the best archer there is. Just because you’re technically older doesn’t mean you can do better than I.” “You have seen her shoot, Bard,” a dwarf that Thranduil’s memory recalled was named Kili, piped up. “And there is no one better than her with a sword." A smug grin appeared on the woman’s face. “Thank you, Kili. At least someone can admit the truth.” “All right,” the large man turned towards the girl. “You and me, tomorrow, when the sun dawns. One who hits the most targets wins.” “And what is the prize?” the smugness was still all over her face and Thranduil couldn’t help himself but smile at the overconfident girl. “The title of the best archer, of course.” “Pff!” she rolled her eyes, taking a seat right next to Bard’s left, two seats away from the King. She was so close, Thranduil could smell the scent of lavender and rosemary- no doubt the oils that had been added to her bath. “That I can claim right here right now. I need something tangible.” “Fine. When we get back to Dale I will take over cleaning your weapons for a week.” “Make it a month and we have a deal,” she extended an arm towards the man. “Prepare to lose,” his large palm clasped hers. “Darling, I’ve already won.” The feast had begun moments later, loud chatter quieting down as polite conversation eased throughout the room. The elven King couldn’t keep his eyes off the girl for long. She talked to everyone and anyone, but at the same time, when unpleasant comments about her or any of her companions grazed her ears… If looks could kill Thranduil suspected that the room would be on fire. Not long after, the slow and calm strings of the violins picked up their pace and people made their way onto the dance floor. She, of course, Bard’s hand in grasp went to the centre of the room and danced the night away. The King didn’t take off his gaze as the girl moved across the room, switching partners from humans to dwarves and to elves, a smile of pure content and happiness almost permanently carved onto the beautiful features. But then like a flash of lightning she was gone. Thranduil roamed his eyes over the crowded room, but her figure that had moved like a petal caught in the wind was nowhere to be seen. His heart sunk at the thought that she had retired with Bard, because even the simple presence of the girl elated his mood, but then his ice-blue eyes caught Bard himself dancing with an elleth. A gust of wind from an open balcony caught Thranduil’s attention, the almost see-through white curtains flapping in the gentle breeze and right there, away from the looks of everyone, her emerald green dress shone. “Excuse me,” he murmured to Lord Elrond and his son who had fallen in a conversation. His feet moved without a sound and the only indication that there was someone approaching Y/N was his kaftan’s shuffling over the stone floor. “Beautiful isn’t it,” he came to rest his elbows next to Y/N who was leaning on the intricately designed railing. “Probably the most beautiful thing I have ever seen,” it came out more like a sigh as her Y/E/C orbs soaked in the view that was his kingdom. “I wanted to apologise for my words earlier,” it didn’t come easy for Thranduil to say that. “Is the Thranduil, the mighty elven King, the fearless warrior apologising? To me? A human?” a smirk made its way onto her lips. Oh, how he wanted to wipe it away by pressing his own mouth to hers, but the elf restrained himself. “Do not make me regret this decision,” he warned, but Y/N could hear the playful undertone and saw how he tried to hide a smile. She chuckled and reverted her gaze back towards the night sky and the city below. “Like I said- my respect needs to be earned,” she smiled at the King and the beauty of it took his breath away, “and now you’re getting there.” “Well, I’m pleased to hear I am in your good graces, Lady Y/N.” “Good? Not really. More so acceptable.” He snorted at that. He actually snorted, surprising himself with how at ease he felt around the girl. “And I’m not a Lady. Never have, never will be.” “Surely being Bard’s companion bestows the title upon you. He is the King of Dale, which means the Queen should be regarded no less than that.” The wide-eyed girl looked at Thranduil as if he suddenly had sprouted an elk head before bursting into a fit of laughter. She fell to the floor, clutching her stomach as her body trembled and shook with the force, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Oh- Gods,” she hiccuped trying to form a coherent sentence. “You,” hiccup, “think that I and B-Bard,” hiccup, “are together?” Another fit of laughter overtook her body and she wiped away the tears. “Oh, this is the most amusing," hiccup, "thing I’ve heard in a while. Oh my, will Bard’s mood elate after I tell him this.” Thranduil was utterly confused while looking at the woman. Her face was flushed red from laughing so hard and it looked like she was having trouble heaving herself up, hands clutching to the railing. “We are nothing more than friends. I could call him a best friend, he’s been there for me every step of the way, he’s almost my family, but together, ohhh,” she wiped away a stray tear, and tried to compose herself. “Besides, he has his eyes set on another and she has my approval.” “But,” the King was stammering for words. Never in his life had he been at a loss of them. “You act so familiarly with him, you act as if you two are man and wife.” “We’re friends. Very good ones at that. With us, humans,” she gently nudged the king’s elbow, emphasising the last word, “it’s different. A touch, a hug, a kiss- all of it can have different meanings.” “I know that,” he snapped exasperated, but at the same time a feeling of hope resurfaced. “Do you?” there it was again. That teasing smile that he just wanted to wipe away with the touch of his lips. “Then how come you haven’t noticed he never leaned in for a kiss? Or never whispered sweet nothings in my ear? Or never did anything apart from a friendly hug or teasing glance, unlike our dear friends Arwen and Aragorn have been doing from the moment they sat down?” Truth be told Thranduil had noticed those things, yet his mind immediately went to the conclusion that they must be married. He had seen how Bard looked at the girl, his eyes filled with love and pride, yet now, as he went over every second he’d seen the pair together, he couldn’t find any fragment, no bits or pieces where they would be acting as more than a brother and a sister. “And even if he had feelings that are more than the love you give to a friend or a family member, I wouldn’t be able to reciprocate. I couldn’t fathom loving someone like that and then watching them slowly wither away, grow old, while I myself don’t change.” There was inexplicable sadness in her tone. “What do you mean?” “I mean,” she huffed out, the cheery mood completely gone from her, “I’m immortal. When I was born I was given this gift… or more so a curse upon me. I do not know why. My parents never told me. I don’t know who did it, nor do I have any clue as to how they did it. All I know is that when the time comes, my friends will grow old, their hair will turn grey and they will die... and I’ll have to watch all of it, unable to stop it while I myself remain just as I am now.” Thranduil wanted to pull the girl close to him, to never let go, to whisper in her ear, that he’ll always be by her side if only she’d let him. “That’s why I fight, you know. That’s why the only constant I can rely on in this life is the notion that there will always be a war to participate in. And I guess that sort of soothes me as well.” Thranduil quirked a brow for Y/N to continue. “It makes me feel better about my life. It gives me purpose rather than wallowing in self-pity. I can make the world the children of my friends will live in a better place and I can help them make it safer…” The king reached out to pull Y/N’s palm into his own, to run his thumb over her smooth knuckles, but the moment was interrupted by an intoxicated Bifur yelling for Y/N to join them in the dance. “I’ll be there in a minute, save a dance for me.” Y/N chuckled as she watched her drunken friend waddle away. A small smile, that Thranduil saw was laced with sadness and longing played on her features. His pale fingers reached to brush away a strand of silky Y/H/C hair that was obscuring her face, but Y/N moved completely away from the balcony. “I should get back to the company before they physically drag me back inside.” Thranduil bowed to the girl, not just a simple incline of the head, but a full-on waist-deep bow. “It has been a pleasure to be in your company,” he smirked straightening up, “Lady Y/N.” The girl opened her mouth but pressed it together in an amused smile. “My King,” she said inclining her head as she swivelled around, the emerald green dress billowing like a leaf caught in the wind behind her. After that conversation, Thranduil set his mind to courting the spunky girl. The next morning after the feast she woke up to discover an incredible cerulean blue dress laid upon the end of the bed accompanied by an intricate Carnation wreath. Her appointed handmaiden upon seeing the flower crown had squealed like a madman and then furiously blushed. The elleth helped Y/N pull on the gown and positioned the petals so that her hair perfectly framed her features. When the girl had walked in for breakfast, everyone had stopped talking, all eyes averted on her. “Oh, don’t tell me I look that bad, I didn’t drink much,” she snickered making her way to the same seat she’d occupied at the time of the feast. “No, it is absolutely not that,” it was Bard who spoke up, “you look breathtaking.” A small blush rose to her cheeks as she started to pile food on her plate. “Yes, well all of that is thanks to a mysterious person who left this in my room.” She turned back to eating and slowly conversation once again started to echo through the hall. When Thranduil saw Y/N in the dress he’d made one of the maids lay out upon her bed and that she was, in fact, wearing the flower crown, the King knew right then and there that he’d marry the girl. The sleepless morning he’d spent trying to figure out what to do turned out to not be a bad thing at all. Only when the first light of the Sun glittered through the windows had Thranduil drifted off to dreams, where his late wife, the reason he started to dispel the idea of courting Y/N, had appeared. “My love, why do you do this to yourself, why not allow happiness make its way into your life, but rather succumb to sorrow?” she gently stroked the cheek of the elf. “I do not wish to betray you,” a tear rolled down his cheek and the beautiful elleth wiped it away. “Betray me how? By being happy? By allowing the light she has brought into your life once again shine brightly on the both of you? I wish nothing more than for you and Legolas to be filled with joy, so if you think that I’d be angry with you and your choice to bring happiness back into your life, then you never really knew your wife.” “But I couldn’t save you… how can I ever protect another when I wasn’t even able to come to your rescue?” “That, Meleth nîn, is what love comes with. The fear of not being there when your love needs you the most... But would you rather allow your heart to leap with happiness, or see the future you could have slip through the cracks of your fingers?” She gently caressed his face. “You have a chance most do not receive,” the late Queen pressed a gentle kiss to Thranduil’s forehead, “do not let it pass you by.” “Thank you,” Thranduil shuddered as he woke up, tears slipping down his cheeks. “Thank you, my love.” But as the week progressed it started to seem to him, his feelings were not reciprocated. They had gone on many walks together and spent hours talking not only about the wars, but just about themselves, yet Thranduil couldn’t quite get the grasp of what Y/N felt towards him. And right as the last day of their stay came by, which by then Thranduil had given up on the chance of having the girl by his side, she made her way into his study. “Okay, what is going on?” with arms on her hips, she looked like a tiny angry elk. “Why does everyone when I pass them by either sneer at me and tell me I’d never be good enough or run off giggling. It has been happening for the past week and the looks intensify when I’m with you, so my inkling is that you have some fault in this, Thranduil.” “Whatever do you mean?” he placed down the papers his eyes had been scanning moments before. “I don’t know, you tell me!” exasperation rang through the room. “Oh, and why the hell is everyone bowing and calling me a Lady? They all know I am not royalty, so what the bloody hell is going on?” And then it dawned on him. It wasn’t that Y/N didn’t have the same feelings, or he hoped that it wasn’t, she didn’t know the meaning behind the flower crowns she wore each day, specifically portraying a message of someone who courts another in the elven society. “Do you know what the flowers upon your head symbolise?” “What does the flower crown have to do with it?” “Everything,” the King took a deep breath as he moved closer to the girl, with each step explaining what the different crowns had meant. “The first day I gave you Carnations-“ “It was you?” He simply nodded. “They symbolise the pledge of love and promise of marriage.” Her breath hitched in her throat and Thranduil could only hope it was a good sign. “The next day,” he ebbed closer, “were Azaleas connoting for you to take care yourself for me.” “Then came the third crown with sunlit Daffodils, to show my longing and hope for a new start. Fourth in line came the Gillyflower- to match and show your beauty. A crown of Gardenias adorned your head on the fifth day, to show my affections through them even though I wished nothing but to shout it from the tops of the mountains. Yesterday you put a wreath of white Dittanys that I hoped would whisper in your ear of the love I hold for you…” They were now standing nose to nose. Y/N could feel his breath fanning over her face as she couldn’t stop looking into the eyes of the king. “And what does today mean?” It was barely a whisper. “The Amaranth symbolise immortality of my love for you.” The girl could only gulp as language escaped her mind. “You have captured my heart Y/N,” his trembling fingers grasped hers. They never shook and yet here the mighty elven King was scared to death of hearing the answer to what he thought was expressed to the fullest extent. “And my only hope is that the feelings I hold for you are returned.” She couldn't move, couldn’t speak only stare at the tall man above her. His palm removed a strand of hair that had fallen out from the woven plait that weaved around the crown. “But I do understand if you do n-“ Thranduil didn’t get the chance to finish the sentence as the girl pressed her lips against his. The King’s body went rigid from the initial shock, but it took him no more than a second to grab onto her waist and pull her body flush against his. Only when the pair was in dire need of air did they pull back from one another, their foreheads, however, remained together. “Would that mean, if I asked you to stay here, in the Woodland realm, after today, you would say yes?” “I don’t know,” a smirk crept upon her face, her eyes still closed, body relishing in the feeling of what just happened. “How do you say “maybe” with flowers?” that smirk grew as her Y/E/C met Thranduil’s blue ones. He smiled back at her and this time, he pressed his mouth to the girl’s, wiping the smile away like had wanted to do so many times.

The King smiled at the feeling of the memory, as his eyes once again roaming over the body of the girl who had become his wife not long after the confession. He leaned in closer, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s collarbone where a love bite already sat, marks of the activities they’d taken part last night. “Nooooo,” she groaned and turned her back to Thranduil, “too early. Back… sleep… need… go… to.” He couldn’t help but chuckle at his wife's behaviour. Truth be told, he knew that a day spent in bed was the least she deserved when his eyes caught the sight of the blue and pink camellia crown sitting on the bedside table. The same one he’d placed upon her head when she, Legolas and more guards went into the woods. The darkness had spread and so had the infectious spiders. Thranduil didn’t want Y/N to go, with how dangerous the forests had become, but he also knew, that she was an incredible fighter, rivalling the best of his kin. “I will come back, I promise,” she pressed a passion-filled kiss to his lips, “you can’t get rid of me that easy. It’ll take more than a few eight-legged beasts to do that.” “Stubborn are we?” he smiled down at the armour clad girl. “The most.” And know, after a week of cleaning out the woods, killing as many spiders as possible she was once again in his arms. Well, technically not anymore. Y/N had hogged the blanket moving to the furthest side of the bed, covering herself with the soft material so Thranduil could only see the top of her Y/H/C hair. “Meleth, it’s time to wake up, the Sun is already above the ground.” Her response was a string of incoherent words. “Petal, please,” he moved closer, removing the duvet and kissing another mark he’d left on her shoulder, a twin to the ones that were littered over her back and chest. “Sleep… you… now… me… kill… you… care,” those were the only words he could decipher that weren’t muffled by the pillow she had shoved her face in. “I have a whole day planned for us, Meleth nin. Just us, together.” With a groan Y/N turned to face her husband, one eye open, slightly squinting, trying to adjust to the morning light. “Then why can’t we spend it together… in bed… asleep?” Her warm palm roamed over Thranduil’s broad chest, resting upon where his heart beat a steady beat. “Because I wish to enjoy this beautiful day with my Queen by my side,” he murmured in the crook of her neck, pressing gentle kisses. “Hmm,” her fingers wove through the silvery hair that tickled her skin, “sometimes I curse the cruel fate, that made me marry you.” “Is that so?” his lips moved to glide across her jaw, “then why did you marry me?” “You know. Riches beyond belief, status as a Queen, a comfortable life,” her eyes opened fully to look at her husband, placing a strand of blond hair behind the pointy ear, “and you’re pretty nice to look at.” “So,” he kissed the girl on the lips, “you married me,” he accentuated every word with a press of his lips on hers, “just so you could be rich and have something pretty to wake up to in the morning.” “Yeah,” she let her tongue intertwine with his, “can’t seem to find any other reason as to why I’d marry someone who clearly has no regard for other people and their need for sleep.” “Mhmm,” they continued the lazy movements for some time before both of them needed to get a proper breath of air. “So,” he brushed his nose against hers, “breakfast?” “Uggghhhh,” Y/N groaned once again and buried herself in his chest. “Give me fifteen more minutes and I’ll be ready.’ “I’ll take your word for it,” Thranduil kissed his wife once more before getting up and pulling a simple pair of night-pants on, “or you’ll have to wait until lunch before we can stop and eat.” His own eyes now finally saw the similar markings Y/N had left on his chest, a deep laugh reverberating through his large body. “Yeah, fine,” she snuggled into his pillow. Thranduil removed a piece of hair from her back and pressed his lips to her shoulder blade. “I’ll be waiting for you, Melethen.” A soft snore was the only response he got. With a huff of laughter, he pulled on a robe and ventured down to where they would break fast. But unbeknownst to him, a darkness had found its way into their kingdom and it had nothing but evil intentions. Like a pine seed in the air, swished by the winds, the dark mass moved across the sky, gliding against the buildings and blending into the shadows. Once it came upon the open balcony doors of the royal chambers it seeped into the room and before Y/N could reach for her blade, eyes open with shock, it plunged into her body, making her succumb to the blackness.

A/N: I have fallen into a hole that is Lee Pace and I can’t get out!! help!!! omg I love him so much, like uuuugggghhhhhhhh!!! Desperately need season 3 of Pushing Daisies even though I know it’ll never happen, just need the perfection that he is in my life

This is gonna be a quite short series, I’m thinking 3-4 parts all together, but I needed to get this out of my brain, cause I can’t work on anything else if I don’t.

I know I’m supposed to put the last part to The One That Got Away and I apologise to those who are waiting and I haven’t done so, just my brain wouldn’t cooperate if I didn’t do this first. I promise it’s coming

P.S. if you wanna be tagged or have any requests drop a message

P.S.S. feedback is always appreciated :)

P.S.S.S. please don’t repost without credits

Translations of some words/ phrases/ flower meanings:

Meleth nîn; melethen- my love

Firen- human

Blue and pink camellia- (blue) you are the flame of my heart; (pink) longing for you- I long for your touch

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escribira · 3 years

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He done bonked his head, Gabe is like lol here's your dossier

Aziraphale goes into the house behind him, finds it unlocked and assumes it's his (rightfully). It's dreadfully messy, so he spends some time picking up—dusting, putting books on shelves, does the washing up. He must've been very busy to have let it go for so long! He eventually finishes up and heads to the other room in the small house, a room with a perfectly made bed (at least he'd done that!) And an unorganized desk with several burned down candles. He lights the tallest, and gets to work reading his dossier.

It's dreadfully dull. It is illuminated beautifully, in shimmering gold and deep blues and without a single errant ink stain. "Miracles Are What We Do". It rambles on about heavenly processes in excruciating detail, in truly the most impenetrable, repetitive language Aziraphale's ever read. But he has a mission to fulfill for Heaven, and so he reads every word. It seems rather unlike the Bible, actually, though perhaps Gabriel had written this. It did seem his style. Eventually Aziraphale reaches a key section, helpfully titled "Your Mission: Heaven's Proclamation & You".

It lays out his goal—vaguely—and where his key contacts are located, though frustratingly no map is provided. All of that lead up and skimping on the actual details! Goodness! If he was not appointed by the Archangel Gabriel himself, he'd have to complain to someone about this. It didn't seem quite right for a human to speak against an angel. Surely before his accident with the rock he knew more information about the area. Perhaps he could inquire for directions in town? He nods, resolving to do so in the morning.

His candle drips, shortens, flickers in the now dark room. It's gotten quite late, unbeknownst to Aziraphale. He's nearly done with his reading though. He turns the page, and here is an impressive, bold statement in bright red calligraphy. Warning! The demon Crowley, the snake of Eden and originator of All Sin, has been spotted in the region and may seek to interfere with Our Mission or otherwise tempt our heavenly associates from the path of Good. Highly dangerous, do not interact under any circumstance. Recommendation: smite on sight. Below was a painted portrait of the demon in question. He seemed to be quite slim, with delicate features including high cheekbones and a charmingly crooked nose. His hair was fittingly colored the same vibrant red as the warning. But most startling was the vibrant yellow of his irises, slit vertically like a snake's. They seemed to look through the page directly at Aziraphale, piercing right to his heart. He shuddered, and felt the beginnings of a headache knock inside his skull. Aziraphale rubbed his temples. Well, it was quite late, and it had been quite an unusual day. Hopefully Aziraphale would wake up the next morning with his memories returned to him, but either way we would certainly carry out his mission for Heaven. Aziraphale blows out the candle, throwing the room into darkness and wafting a tendril of smoke into the room. Tucking himself into bed, Aziraphale shuts his eyes, and falls immediately to sleep.

He wakes to a pounding on the front door. His mind registers the noise foggily as he shakes off the blurry edge of sleep—he slept so deeply it was as if he's never slept before. Disoriented, he sits up in bed and looks around the room. The candle, the dossier still sit on the desk, more carefully organized now. He still cannot recall his past. "Aziraphale! Caught up in your reading again? You were supposed to meet me at the inn an hour ago for brunch—that's a whole new thing I'm working on actually. It'll be a hit, you'll see. Hello?” Oh, Aziraphale felt a bit sheepish for missing an arranged appointment, but in his defense, he was pummeled by a boulder yesterday, lost his memory, and spoke to an actual angel. The knocking continues. Perhaps it was a family member, who might be able to explain who he was more clearly— He hears the door open and footsteps enter his front room. "Rather rude of you to stand me up, you bastard, and then I had to trek all the way up this bloody hill to find you and Bentley was being a rude little beast as usual so I came on foot ugh—” The speaker breaks off his rapid fire speech. "Did you clean in here? What the hell—heaven? Looks nice, actually, for once. Huh." The door to the bedroom swings open and the intruder looks immediately to the vacant desk. His brow creases before he looks up and spots Aziraphale in his bed. Then his eyebrows shoot to his hairline. "Were you asleep, angel?" "Yes? Can't a man get some rest when he needs it?" Aziraphale says with some confusion. He blinks then, and shocks awake. This is the man—creature—demon—from the dossier. The incredibly dangerous, smite-on-sight villain who wanted nothing more than to interfere with Heaven's plans. He's actually quite handsome, Aziraphale notices, and then shoves the thought into a locked corner rod his mind. That's what he wants you to think. He's a tempter! An evil demon! The evil demon—Crowley—snorts in amusement. It's not vert intimidating. "Sure, but not really your style, is it?”

Well, I would hardly know, he thinks. Aziraphale's teeth clack together with the force of trying to stop the words coming out of his mouth. He realizes he probably shouldn't get giving away information about his current condition to a demon of all creatures. "I suppose not," he says, carefully. "So how was it?” Crowley saunters into the room and drops onto the bed, easy as anything. Aziraphale's heart kickstarted. How well did he know this man? Did he even know he was a demon, before he received his holy mission? He thought of his former self, being helplessly tempted to sin, falling prey to his dastardly schemes, and felt a pang of fear. He would have to eke out the details from his... companion as well as he could without giving away his secret, the weakness of his missing memory. "How was what?" Aziraphale said, through dry. "Sleeping!” Crowley said. "Obviously! Did you have any dreams? Were they pleasant? Or were they of me?" Crowley leans forward, grinning lecherously. Oh, god, was he—he entangled with this demon? Things must be worse than he thought. "I should think not!” He reddened, which seemed to delight Crowley.

#outline

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grubloaf · 6 years

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Whole band Kidfic, or Skwistok kissing practice >:]

#my writing #skwistok #metalocalypse #skwisgaar skwigelf #toki wartooth #apineappleheart

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forestwater87 · 6 years

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Fic Writers Week 2017 - Day 4

The Devil’s in the Details: Highlight details you put into your work

Oh boy. Okay, let’s see . . . I think even when I’m the most critical about my work, there are little bits to each fic that make me smile and I hope people noticed. So I hope @ficwritersweek doesn’t mind too much that I’m kinda using this as a self-esteem-building exercise, but here are a couple lines I more or less liked from each of my Camp Camp fics:

The Adventures of Tigger & Eeyore

Shrieking loud enough to give her a headache (except for Ered, who was too cool to scream, and Nurf, who had taken the opportunity to throw Harrison off the dock like a javelin), they stampeded into the lake, leaving their impromptu Molotov cocktails to singe circles of black in the damp grass.

Tigger & Eeyore: Camp Campbell and Beyond

Gwen wanted to tell him that she'd missed him too, missed him with an intensity that kind of scared her. Even talking in some form almost every day, it hurt like homesickness.

Because when God was putting together all the little boys and girls of the world He must've dropped her, something was broken inside her chest, something was missing and there were monsters rattling around in that empty jagged space and everyone she'd fallen in love with left, because she could only pretend to be whole for so long before the rattling became loud enough that everyone could hear it, and no one could sleep next to that kind of racket. Even if they could, even if like David someone managed to ignore it or not hear it — the monsters brought out their claws, because it was a hell of a lot harder to avoid scratches and they wanted her all to themselves, to eat up all her insides and walk around her body.

And that all sounded good, but it was bullshit because Gwen knew there weren't any monsters inside her. She could blame God or her parents or whatever she wanted but she was the only one inside her head and she was the one who kept fucking up, and she was the one who knew David was too good for her and she went and fell for him anyway like the selfish idiot she was. Because if there was a monster it was her, and the only person being hollowed out and destroyed was him.

And there'd been a part of her that'd known that, and it hadn't stopped her.

Gwenvid Week 2017

He nestled his face in the crook of her neck, nosing aside her hair and gently kissing just above the collar of her shirt. “I was trying to save money.”

“Yeah, good thing you spared us those fifty whole dollars. Made a real dent in the other three thousand.” When he didn’t say anything, just pressed another soft kiss to her neck like he could get away with apologizing without actually admitting any wrongdoing, she laughed and hiked him up a few inches to readjust her grip, wincing as he let out a small distressed squeak.

for a few minutes she studied his profile, the bleached moonlight glancing off his nose and forehead and cheekbones so that his freckles looked almost black and his eyes were practically silver.

David wasn’t the kind of guy to do anything halfway. When he was happy he was HAPPY!!, like a puppy on a sugar high. When he really let himself get mad, he was genuinely intimidating. When he tore off whatever band-aids were papered over his smile, when he was genuinely overcome with that three-in-morning gut-wrenching despair . . .

Well, if sadness was physical they’d be splashing through four feet of blood.

Like this place wasn't enough of a zoo?

After a few more seconds he stopped, panting, his tail flicking back and forth. There were some pretty impressive gouges in the frame, and Gwen raised her eyebrows. . . .

He glared down at the ground, crossing his arms. "Fine," he muttered, tugging at his septum ring sullenly.

The air was still, the lake lapped gently at the shore, glimmering like liquid silver in the moonlight that drenched everything in cold white light

Destiny's Kinda Overrated

And it definitely wasn't her fault that everything about her, from her hippie-punk fashion to her shy half-smile to the way her voice softened when she was nervous, drew him to her, like she'd been hand-formed out of everything he didn't know he'd always wanted.

He loved how the lake turned into a sheet of pink fire in the evenings, rippling with orange and yellow and touches of purple as the sun set. It was beautiful, calm and yet somehow the most vibrant and explosive thing he'd ever seen.

Maybe a Little Bit Personal

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "What kinda serial killer doesn't even know how to knock someone out?"

"I-I do! I just . . . usually . . . hit them. To sleep." He looked away, the pink that'd been beginning to fade brightening across his cheeks and neck. "But mostly I don't . . . bother with all that. It's really just . . ." He held up his weapon and shrugged. "You know. Knife."

Worth Saying

He shrugged, hanging his head and hugging himself. "Sorry," he mumbled to his boots, sounding close to tears.

Nature Family

Nikki laughed, picking at a dandelion and shredding the stem, smearing the milky-sticky fluid across her fingers.

Together

She likes the way they can smile like an eternity has passed and yet they’re seeing each other for the first time. How easily they fit together, how painless and automatic and like breathing it looks, but how sometimes they still forget how to speak and get distracted by small things like Jasper’s pretty eyelashes and David’s strong hands. How they still haven’t gotten used to each other.

She likes the way they work together. How Jasper smooths down the rough edges of David’s personality so that his excitement is less grating, his eagerness less oppressive. How he understands instinctively that it can hurt to be believed in, and tempers that enthusiasm with humor and irreverence. She likes that David knows when to be quiet and take a break from joking around, and how with a touch on the arm and a gentle word he can bring Jasper to a halt. That they both understand Max is a volatile substance, an unstable ecosystem, and they carefully weigh their love and support so that it’s just enough, never smothering but always present.

Whatever You Say, Boss

The strange old man who'd had a million-dollar bounty on his head for the last twenty-one years, who with a bad eye and a missing hand was somehow unkillable. (Gwen herself had taken a shot at the bounty when she'd first moved to the city, young(er) and cocky and fresh off a heist that had left her armed to the teeth. She'd escaped with a broken wrist, some cracked ribs, and a scar that sliced through her left nostril and twisted her lips into a permanent snarl.) Hook was Campbell's right-hand man, had been since the explosive birth of the crew.

The little boy who always seemed to be in the right place at the right time and not for a second longer; if there was a heist or shootout, inevitably it would come out that someone had noticed a child wandering around just a few hours earlier. No one could ever say what he'd done, exactly, but he was always there and then gone just as fast: a flash of golden hair, a bright neon jacket and light-up shoes. And yet he'd never been identified successfully, in pictures or lineups or security cameras (the eye was drawn immediately to those clothes), so everyone called him Ghost.

The bodyguard who stayed plastered to Campbell's side, who never seemed to speak — no one knew if he even could — and whose eyes were always hidden by locks of mangy brown hair, except for a beak-like nose that overwhelmed the rest of his face. Gwen had laughed when she'd first heard he was known as the Platypus, but no one else had; stone-faced, she'd been told that he hid poisoned spikes on him at all times, and that a kick from him would leave her writhing in agony and fevered delirium for days after — if she was lucky.

#ficwritersweek #campcamp #camp camp #gwenvid #jaspidwen #gwenjaspvid #jaspvid #jaspid #i hate talking positively about my writing #this exercise physically hurt me #but i guess i don't hate as much of my writing as i thought #cc gwen #cc david #cc jasper #cc nurf

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