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delirious-donna · 2 months

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Series Masterlist

chapter 6: Kiss

pairing: Kakashi Hatake x female reader

warnings: angst, PTSD, anxiety, night terrors, Obito is very broken, fluff, overthinking reader, mentions of alcohol, Kakashi being a consent king at heart, SFW (for now…)

wc: 2.5k

synopsis: Kakashi Hatake, newly appointed Hokage, is struggling with transitioning from active duty to being sat behind a desk. Sure, he might not be placing his life on the line every day but perhaps now is the time he puts something else out there instead, his heart.

Meanwhile, things aren’t quite adding up. There is a discrepancy in the records that cannot be explained, and it falls to you to investigate. Never did you expect it would lead you to the door of the Hokage’s office, a man you had admired from a safe distance until now. What happens next leads you into a closely guarded secret that will change the rest of your life.

In a story where the past might be harder to let go of than usual, can two strangers find a semblance of happiness and peace?

beta reader: a huge thanks to @angelic-muse for being an amazing beta and friend! <3

Too late. He was always too late.

What had been a source of almost playful defiance in his youth had turned into some of his greatest regrets in life. Why couldn’t he get there in time? Why did he have to watch whilst those he loved were cut down because he couldn’t reach them quickly enough? Was it fair that he finally realised he was being used by those far more evil and manipulative than he only when he was knocking on death’s door?

Regret and confusion muddied together, painting a kaleidoscope of negative emotions into a hellscape designed for his personal torment. Looking down, his hands were stained in a blood so dark it was almost black. It crusted around his fingertips and stained the sickly white pallor of the skin beneath.

It was Rin’s blood.

He knew it with certainty. Her body wasn’t here, nothing was except him and the howling wind that wrapped around his body. The cold struck him, spreading out from the centre of his chest and filling every corner it could reach. It was a poison, a sickness.

Flashes of memories obscured his vision like fireworks. Blinded by brilliant white lights that stung more than his eyes, and then he was drowning. His chest was tight–a metaphorical band of steel encased his ribcage, squeezing with any attempted inhale. Obito clawed at his throat with his sullied hand, painting the column of his throat in a liquid far more akin to inky black oil than crimson blood.

Panic gripped his heart. Yells, screams and the death rattle of his victims filled his ears. He was drowning yet there was no water. He was blood-spattered yet there was no body. It ended as suddenly as it had begun.

He could breathe, and he did, inhaling great pulls of air into his starved lungs. Obito coughed, again and again. Tears blurred his vision, streaking down his cheeks and dripping fat drops from the tip of his chin. He shut out what he could, closed his eyes to the marks covering his hands, and he felt it, a hand beneath his elbow. It was warm where everything else had been frigidly cold. Small and delicate fingers touched him without shuddering in repulsion.

“He’s moving on… why can’t you, Obito?”

It hurt. Fuck, it hurt. Obito blinked, awakening not to the hellscape he had been trapped in, but to a different type of prison. One he had willingly locked himself into. His bedroom was threadbare, but he liked it that way. Comforts were for those that deserved them, and he didn’t. He had refused every offer of a comfortable bed over the years, deciding it unnecessary. As long as he had a place to curl up and fall asleep, that was all that mattered and honestly, he had slept in worse conditions.

Carefully, he raised his arms and inspected his hands. There was no blood to be found, only the white skin of a man who had betrayed everyone in the pursuit of something futile. Did he have to be reminded of his mistakes every moment, not even safe in slumber?

Obito had long since learned that crying was a part of his penance. He was accustomed to the sensation of his throat feeling tight and rubbed raw from the thick emotions that did their best to choke him. He sat up on his thin futon, drawing his knees to his chest and resting his cheek on top.

Rin…

She had come to him, and not for the first time. The message was different, and he knew it was likely born of what was currently transpiring down in Konoha between Kakashi and this woman who was digging into the strange case of a man who had seemingly died twice.

It was barely 10pm he realised, glancing at the clock on the wall. Was something wrong? He didn’t know for sure, but he would hazard a guess that whatever ridiculous sentiment bonded him to his old friend was awakened because something was indeed happening–whether it be good or bad.

“He’s moving on…” Obito nodded. Kakashi, the man who had been closely guarded with his feelings and his heart since he was a child was letting someone inside his barriers. It still sounded like a joke.

He couldn’t decide if he was happy for him or jealous. The latter would be typical of him, but of which part? That Kakashi could move on with his life or that someone had been good enough in his eyes for him to even try? What woman could possibly turn the head of the legendary copycat ninja?

Sure, it was no secret that the man in question was a romantic at heart, perhaps with a touch of perversion given his reading material over the years, but it had never translated into reality, and Obito would know. For years he had watched from afar, hidden in his various guises and wondered why Kakashi continued to resist temptation. He found out the reason not until they reunited and buried old grudges.

Kakashi couldn’t bear losing someone close to him… again.

He chewed absently on his fingernails, lost in a maelstrom of the past and present. Obito was a part of the reason that Kakashi had closed himself off, he hadn’t been the ignition, but he still held a starring role. He shouldn’t be jealous, but jealousy was not rational. It didn’t listen to logic or abide by the rules of reason.

“... why can’t you, Obito?”

The hand of friendship had been extended so many times when he didn’t understand why he was being given the opportunity, and now, he had a shot at a second chance. Why couldn’t he take it?

So many questions and he didn’t have the answer to any, or any that he would admit to. Deep down in his withered heart, there was the small boy he had once been. The boy who longed for meaningful connections and love. The boy who had dreamed that he would be Hokage one day but had fallen for the trickery of the wicked and became the furthest possible iteration of what it meant to be worthy of the title of Hokage.

Redemption. It was offered like the leafy stem of an olive branch. If only he would reach out and take it, wrap his fingers around it carefully and allow himself the chance at a moment of peace. Wouldn’t it be nice to not be endlessly pursued by his demons? Obito sobbed quietly, the sound carrying only because the night around him stood still and silent as if it was watching—waiting—for what might happen. He was in a bubble of his own despair. A prison that was locked tight, but he alone held the key.

Like Kakashi, he could choose to overcome his fears and look to a future that wasn’t purely miserable. The fear of the unknown was daunting, and he knew that not everyone would be swayed by the words of their Hokage but he could understand that. Truly, it was not the unknown that scared him the most, it was the fear of being accepted. To be accepted despite everything he had done. All the pain and suffering he had inflicted on others. The people he had killed in his pursuit to achieve the impossible, the loved ones sent to their graves before their time. How could anyone look him in the eye and shake his hand after that?

He was broken.

So why did he hope that Kakashi wouldn’t give up on trying to fix him? Obito lay his head against his thin pillow and sent a silent prayer that he didn’t believe would be heard. He prayed that his friend had more strength than he, that whatever was happening with this woman would not leave him as bitter as Obito was. He deserved happiness.

You were scared. He could see the emotion swirling in the dark hues of your eyes, it mingled with the desire that was also present but the fear was threatening to overwhelm the other. Kakashi wouldn’t take what wasn’t willingly given. He wouldn’t push, but he would question it.

“What are you thinking about?”

His voice was barely a husky whisper, warm breath fanning your face and you licked across your lips whilst your eyes rose from his mouth to his eyes. So many things. You were drowning in thoughts, and honestly, you could use a moment of silence to gather your wits. For once, you spoke without running the words through your internal monitor.

“I’m thinking that I want to kiss you and that you want to kiss me, but–”

To be damned with whatever the but was going to be, you were correct, he did want to kiss you and he was going to.

Kakashi’s thumb caught beneath your chin to tip your face up and before you could blink, he kissed you. His lips were cool–pleasantly so–and so damn soft that it almost didn’t seem fair. Your arms wound around his neck exactly as you had desired only moments before, fingers tangling in the silky silver strands at his nape. His body was warm around yours, his hands respectfully at your waist whilst he offered another taste of his lips and you accepted greedily.

Never had you shared a kiss quite like this. Your brain could not process every sensation and emotion that was lighting up your insides like fireworks. How could you ever hope to express exactly what you felt at this moment? This was the Kakashi Hatake, and you were kissing him. Your lips cushioned his. Your fingers played with his hair and scratched lightly at his neck. Your body that he gently tugged ever closer to his own.

He wanted you.

Kakashi was tender and patient, leading you through a slow dance of kisses that seemed to never end, but the need for air would soon spoil that illusion.

You broke away reluctantly, blinking rapidly and hoping that the world would stop spinning so you could orientate yourself. His expression was pure amusement, lips twitching whilst you uncoiled your arms from their perch and pressed your fingertips to your lips. You savoured the gentle numb sensation of your lips, how they had filled with blood so easily and the lingering taste he had left behind.

“I... oh. We shouldn’t have done that,” you murmured, sounding as breathless as you felt.

“Mm, and why is that?”

“You’re my boss. You’re the fucking Hokage! Shit. I am in so much trouble. Can you just fire me now and get it over with?”

Kakashi chuckled, and dammit if you didn’t want to smack him in the shoulder. Didn’t he get it? This was… the best moment of your life. The thought was inside your head before you could squash it. Burning you alive with its presence.

“I have to go. I’m sorry… you’re so handsome. Shit–I mean, forget it,” you rambled, flushing from head to toe.

Twice in as many minutes you had cursed, and it sounded so perfectly ridiculous from your lips that he couldn’t not smile wider. It was at the moment he lifted his hand to his face to stifle the laughter in his throat that you tried to make a run for it. Kakashi watched whilst your eyes darted to the doorway that led back to the front door, and no sooner than the time it took him to blink, you were moving. Damn, you were fast. But he was much faster, naturally.

Not for the first time, his fingers wrapped around your wrist, but this time he used a touch more force to bring you back to him. Your back collided into his chest with a soft thump, before you turned back to face him. Your eyes darted left and right, anywhere that wasn’t looking directly into his and he couldn’t have that.

“Breathe,” he directed calmly, dropping your wrist and bringing his hand up to your cheek. His fingertips were gentle on your skin, the ghost of a caress that made his eyes darken, and your breathing spike despite his best intentions.

“I am not going to fire you. I wish…” he paused, leaning in to press a tender kiss to your forehead. “I wish you were not assigned with the task you’re working on, but actually, I think everything might work out better this way.”

Your nose scrunched in confusion, Kakashi was talking in riddles. His expression was a mask you couldn’t decipher. For as much as you longed to remain in his gentle hold, you knew that it was more crucial for you to reset your brain and that meant leaving.

You exhaled softly. “Kakashi, I’m not going to even try to understand what you mean right now. I’m too…” You wanted to admit you were falling for him, hard and far too fast, but you conceded in a small half truth for now. “... tipsy to think straight.”

His features sombred with a dip of his chin. The sudden, irrational desire to reach out and boop the little mole near his mouth was overwhelming. Your fingers twitched but you controlled the insane urge by biting the inside of your cheek.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you when you’ve been drinking, I apologise.”

Shit–no! That’s not what you had meant. Oh god, now he was regretting everything and you could feel the ground splitting beneath your feet.

“Wait, no. I swear I didn’t just kiss you because of the alcohol. You’re… well, look at you. I like you, Kakashi. Oh dear.” You really had to go before you said something else you’d regret later.

“If you put it that way…” Kakashi smirked, and you were grateful for it even if it was at your expense. “Can you be in my office at 11am tomorrow? I’ve taken up a lot of your time already and you’ve gotten nothing in return, it’s time I rectify that.”

Oh, you’d gotten plenty alright but you weren’t admitting it. Nodding enthusiastically, you moved towards the door and slipped into your shoes. “Would you like me to walk you home?” He asked, and when you glanced around his mask was back in place covering the lower half of his face. It made you pout but you understood.

“No, it’s okay. I don’t live far and I think I could use the peace, if that’s alright?”

With a final lingering exchange of looks, you bowed your head and stepped into the cool night. Away from Kakashi’s home and away from the bubble of happiness you had enjoyed for the past few hours.

You hadn’t lied, you did need solace from how maddeningly astute he was, but you missed him almost immediately and that was simply insane. It wouldn’t be for the final time this night did your fingers stray back to your lips in memory of the kiss you had shared. What any of this meant… you weren’t sure, but you needed a plan of action and thankfully, that was something you were good at.

It was time to play him at his own game and find out exactly what he wasn’t telling you.

Little did you know that your short trip home was not made alone. Two ninken trailed you discreetly, keeping to the shadows at their master’s instruction and finding your scent very appealing to their sensitive noses.

#delirious writes #kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake #kakashi fluff #hatake kakashi #obito uchiha #obito angst

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nobodyfamousposts · 3 years

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Chloe's Lament Part 2

Next part of Chloe's Lament. Chloe begins to learn of the changes to reality from her Wish.

She will not be happy about this.

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When Chloe woke up, the first thing that struck her was the loud banging sounds from somewhere below her.

The second thing was pain.

“I have a headache!” She called out, laying an arm over her sleep mask-covered eyes. Her butler would hear her and respond accordingly, of course. He always did.

“And get them to stop that racket down there!” She flopped on her bed with a huff, waiting for the help to return with aid.

Really, the things she dealt with!

Normally, her butler would arrive immediately, with painkillers and fruit-infused water being presented to her within a minute.

But to her growing frustration, that minute came and passed.

Then two.

Three…

Not that Chloe was counting.

Eventually, it had been five minutes and there was still no word from the man. And to make matters worse, that damn banging from below was only getting louder and increasing her suffering.

“Ugh! Do I have to do everything myself?!”

She ripped off the sleep mask, only to wince at the level of brightness in the room. She was on the top floor with the best visibility but the windows were supposed to be tinted and covered to prevent this very thing!

Once her vision cleared, several things should have stood out as odd.

But the first thing to attract her notice was the sleep mask she had just removed—some cheapo dime-store brand. She tossed the rag away with a shriek.

“Is this a prank?!” She demanded. “That is not my personalized diamond-studded satin custom made facial mask! Jean? Jean!”

There was a ruckus from below. The sound of something being dropped. Footsteps—loud and fast and getting closer. Then the opening of a door.

“Precious! Is everything okay?”

She sneered at the sound of her father’s voice.

“No! My sleep mask was stolen, it’s too bright, my head is KILLING me and no one is getting me anything to help!”

He looked confused at that. “Are you out of Efferalgan in your bathroom cabinet?”

She gave him a look. Why would she have to get up and go to the bathroom for some painkillers when there should be someone to hand them to her?

He gave her a strange look in response. Like he was confused his daughter would expect someone to do something as simple as bringing her painkillers and water.

And water.

Preferably cherry-infused.

Was that really so much to ask? Or even require asking?

“Just…hang on a moment.” He said and left her her bathroom.

Finally.

With nothing to do but wait, she glanced around, noting that…this was not her room.

Not the one she knew, anyway.

The light that had blinded her before was from a central window overlooking the room that so obtrusively settled on her bed. In addition, there was a skylight placed above a nook set behind her bed, which brought more light into the room.

She vaguely recognized the room. Well, by its floor plan, at least. The layout and decor threw her off though. The furniture and items were clearly cheaper than her usual high end designer brands. But she saw aspects that were suited to her tastes. Minute indications of her own touch in the assortment of objects around her. Yellow and white as the themes. Black cushions and aesthetic.

It was…decent. But so beneath her it was embarrassing! These were cheap models! Practically plastic! The bedsheets were…ugh…cotton of all things! The lamps were dim! She was missing her boudoir! And her shoes! And her jewelry! She didn’t even want to imagine the nightmare that was her closet—it was practically a hole in the wall! There was no way it would fit everything!

“Here you are, dear!” Her father said, returning from her bathroom with a glass of water and a pill in hand.

She fought the grimace.

Was this tap water?

Gross!

By his expectant look, he clearly meant for her to drink it.

With her continuing headache and no better option for fast relief, Chloe reluctantly took the proffered items. She was unable to help the slightest grimace before she downed them both.

“Well, if that’s all, I’ll be getting back to setting up for the morning rush. Come downstairs to the bakery when you’re ready.” He looked almost relieved to be leaving.

Chloe barely took notice now that she had what she needed. Instead, she took to contemplating her situation and her new surroundings.

All the furniture aside, this room looked familiar. Not really well known, because Chloe was sure she had never been in such a place before. But…like she had seen it somewhere…TV maybe?

And her Daddykins was here. That meant…wherever she was, it was apparently expected for her to be here.

But where was here?

The last thing she remembered was…

She closed her eyes, straining to think past the pain.

That’s right! Hawk Moth’s offer! The Bee! She was Miracle Queen! And she had just won! She had Ladybug beaten…

Her fists clenched.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng…

It hit her.

This was just like her room!

She had only seen it a couple of times. Once for sure when Sabrina had snuck into her room per Chloe‘s instructions for blackmail material. She happened to glimpse a picture of the room here or there from other people’s phones of times that they had spent in this room—that she had really cared. It was a small and dingy room that had nothing on her glamorous abode at the hotel, which of course, was superior in every way.

She was vaguely reminded of that one show that Marinette hadn’t stopped talking about which had also apparently shown Marinette‘s room, but Chloe honestly hadn’t been bothered enough to watch it, so she didn’t have that to go on. But with what she did know, it was a safe bet to assume that this was some knockoff of Marinette‘s room.

So why was Chloe here? Why was her dad downstairs?

She… she had made the Wish, hadn’t she?

…

What…is this it?

She turned up her nose at the environment around her, completely unimpressed.

Was this dinky little room with its weird setup and tacky decor what the Wish gave her? Why would she be in any copy of Dupain-Cheng’s room layout anyway?

The Wish should have changed reality, that much was clear. There was no way she would be caught dead in Dupain-Cheng’s room otherwise—much less sleeping there like it was her own room!

…unless…it was her room?

Was it?

She had found some aspects of the room to her taste, but did that mean this was hers?

It would explain why she was there. And why her Daddy had come up. He had mentioned her bathroom earlier, then had gone through the nearby door to get a tablet and water from what she could only assume was the bathroom he had spoken of.

…he had mentioned a bakery.

Eyes wide, she stumbled out of bed and to the window. Sure enough, the school was just across the way. And there was a sign out front.

“Bourgeois Bakery”

Chloe stared.

Suddenly, it clicked. The banging from downstairs. Her Daddy talking about a ‘morning rush’. And to come down to the…

…no way!

This place was a bakery! Her Daddy was operating a bakery!

And given her location, it was the same bakery that Marinette’s parents owned originally!

This…

…wait…

…did this mean she was supposed to be Marinette?

She threw her pillow in a fury.

Stupid Wish! This wasn’t at all what she wanted!

You would think all-powerful Wish-granting artifacts would do it right!

“Where are those kwamis?!” She demanded, jumping out of the bed and looking around for anywhere she would keep such important jewels. “I’m going to give them a piece of my mind!”

She had a boudoir along with the various jewelry pieces kept there ranging among a variety of gold and diamonds—all fakes, much to her disappointment. And not a single Miraculous among them.

She slammed the final drawer in with a curse.

Nothing!

If she had the Miraculous, shouldn’t they still be with her? Do they just disappear after being used?

Ugh! Those things really were useless! Utterly useless!

It was when she stood back to full height that she noticed the monthly calendar. There were the standard holidays, but also a weekly appointment every Friday evening with some ‘Bridgette’. What was that? A spa day?

She shot a glance to her reflection in the mirror and grimaced. She definitely needed one. She could just feel all the oils on her skin!

But more to the point, there was one day circled on the calendar.

‘Start of School’

She grabbed her phone—an older, obsolete model with a glittery but fake casing—and checked the date.

That…

That was today.

It was the first day of school. A…

She checked the date again, and sure enough, it was a year ago!

Had the Wish taken her back in time?

She froze, realization hitting her.

This was the first day of school. The same day as the first akuma attack.

And when Ladybug first appeared.

That meant…she was sent back in time to the day Marinette would become Ladybug.

It was a year in the past. She wasn’t at the hotel. Her room was in a bakery. Her father was working as a baker. She was Marinette now.

That meant…

She giggled, feeling a giddiness rise within her.

Today was the day she becomes Ladybug!

It looks like the Wish did something right, after all!

Chloe grinned, spinning away from the mirror and to her closet.

She had to get ready! She had to prepare the perfect outfit! Something for the day she becomes a hero!

No. THE hero!

She knew how the Ladybug worked. Hell, she knew the akumas to come. With her prior knowledge and skills, she would know how to use the yoyo and how to use the Lucky Charm better than the old Ladybug ever did! She’d have every akuma in the bag!

Hell, maybe she could force the Ladybug kwami to tell her where the Guardian is so she can get the other Miraculous, too! That way, she could have both the Ladybug AND the Bee again.

And her Adrikens would be her partner! To support her! To stay by her side! Just as it should be!

She paused, something niggling at the back of her brain. There was something she was forgetting.

A glance around the room as she wondered

Of course, the full extent of the change and just what that meant didn’t really hit her until she went downstairs and actually saw her father.

The poor man was in the middle of retrieving a pan lined with croissants from the unbearably hot oven, his hair contained in…fishnet? Latex? Whatever the cafeteria cooks wore when she had no choice but to eat from the school’s lunchroom.

Gross! He looked like a lunch lady!

He didn’t seem to notice her, too busy dancing around the kitchen and checking over the…whatever pastries those were and just looking proud of himself.

Daddykins, no. You’re better than this! How could you be reduced to such a state?

He seemed to notice her staring. “Are you feeling better?” He asked, looking concerned.

“Er…yeah.” She replied. She wasn’t, really, but she couldn’t tell him that. He could try to have her stay home and how would she get to see the fruits of her labors from there?

“Ah good!” He said cheerfully. “It is the first day of the new school year, and you certainly want to…” He hesitated, “…start off on the right foot.”

A pause. He looked at her expectantly, but she had no idea what he was getting at.

He shook his head and turned away for a moment to grab a box before coming back and presenting it to her.

Clearly he wanted her to take it, so she sighed and took hold of the box. A peek inside revealed a number of macarons.

For her? Now this was what she was talking about!

“Oh, Daddykins! You shouldn’t have!”

“Yes,” he said with a nod. “I figured it would be a great way to start off the new year by sharing them with your classmates.”

Ugh. Seriously? All happy feelings vanished in an instant and she shot him a petulant look.

“Why should I have to share?” She demanded.

He hesitated.

She glared, tapping her foot in a clear indication of wanting an answer. Or preferably for him to just say they were all hers.

“It’s a new year and a new start.” Andre said, smiling nervously. “Maybe it’s time to just let bygones be bygones?“

It was a stupid question and she sure let him know it. She stared at him flatly, causing him to wilt.

Andre sighed.

“I know you don’t like her, but…” he hesitated. “Please, just try to get along?”

She blinked.

“Her?”

Wait.

Wait…

It suddenly struck her.

If she was Dupain-Cheng now…

That meant Marinette was in her shoes!

She grinned.

Marinette would be her bully! She’d be the rich bitch daughter of the Mayor and loathed by Paris while Chloe would be—

The one everyone rallied around.

The one Adrikens adored.

The one chosen as Ladybug!

She would have it all!

Part of her hoped the other girl would know about the previous reality…just so she could shove it in her face!

“Just take it slow,” he continued, unaware of her true thoughts. “And then you can report about it to Bridgette at your counseling session on Friday.”

Wait—counseling?

Seeing her expression, he held up his hands in a gesture of peace.

“I know you don’t like it, but it was part of the agreement. You need to make a better impression this year, sweetie.”

“What?”

“She’s the daughter of the Mayor. I’m not sure we can take another…” He trailed off before shaking his head and looking at her imploringly. “You understand, right?”

Oh.

She got it!

“Of course, Daddykins!”

Clearly Dupain-Cheng was abusing her influence, just as she thought!

She had to hand it to the girl…a part of her hadn’t been quite convinced that she would go quite that far. But that just proof that Marinette Dupain-Cheng wasn’t so perfect and that even she would be the same as Chloe once in her position!

Chloe knew she would have to bear with the mistreatment for now. No matter how much it would grate her. It would suck to have to have to accept it for any period of time.

Still, it would be worth it! It just meant even more ammunition to use against her once Chloe was Ladybug!

She didn’t even notice the look of concern he gave her or his weak goodbye as she left the bakery with the box in hand. She was too wrapped up in her own thoughts. Particularly her plans.

And what plans they were!

So what if Maribrat had Chloe’s wealth? It wasn’t like she knew the first thing about status or being a symbol. No, Ladybug did that for her and she didn’t even use it right! Not like Chloe would.

She smirked to herself, imagining the future.

Well, as soon as she got the Miraculous, taking the pigtailed down a peg would be the first thing on her list. Maybe a dip in the Seine? Or ‘accidentally’ getting her hit by an akuma or two?

Why limit it to her personally? If Ladybug spoke out against the mayor, who would vote for him? From what she remembered of Marinette’s dad, that oaf had no business being in politics anyway! Then there was the hotel, which would no doubt be a mess with him in charge anyway.

And best of all, she thought with glee, with a word from Paris’s favorite hero, Dupain-Cheng could be implicated as an ally of Hawk Moth.

Who wouldn’t believe it? If Marinette was in Chloe’s place, that meant she had to be a brat despised by Paris. Everyone would likely jump at the excuse to run her out of the city!

It was slightly disappointing that the former Ladybug wouldn’t know why the new Ladybug was so against her or that she had even been replaced, but she didn’t deserve answers anyway.

For once, Chloe was getting everything she wanted. It was like the Universe itself was on her side! Chloe would be the hero with all the Miraculous and status just as she’d always deserved. And everyone would automatically see it and love her while they would already recognize Marinette as the selfish bitch Chloe always knew she was!

It was a win/win for Chloe and all her fans—which was the best kind of win for Chloe.

Sure, it meant she would have to suffer the loss of her basic comforts like a butler, the latest in fashion and accessories, and easy immediate access to a luxury spa for now…but it would be worth it in the long run.

…maybe not the luxury spa. She would kill for the hotel’s oils and masseuse. But she would just have to deal with, ugh, scheduling with a four star locale in the meantime.

It’s for the greatest good, she reminded herself, looking mournfully at her chipped nails.

And besides, she didn’t have to suffer for long.

Today was the first day of school, which signified the first appearance of Ladybug! This was the day she achieved her destiny! Once she became Ladybug, she would be back on top!

So what if her dad was a baker instead of a hotel owner this go around? Who said it had to stay that way? Just as she could use her position to defame the Dupain-Chengs and ruin Marinette, she could endorse the bakery for free publicity. Do special promotions and deals for money. Or even better! She could make the city pay her for her work!

After all, how much was her Miracle Cure worth, really? How much would the city be willing to pay for her to fix the damage caused by akuma fights? It was only what she was owed; the least they could do is compensate her for her time.

Really, it was Marinette’s own fault for not taking advantage while she could. She could’ve been an idol or the city’s star. She could have used the Miraculous to create an army. Hell, Hawk Moth should have been nothing against her! And instead, she just…wasted her potential. On things like loose zoo animals or out of control helicopters, no less!

Chloe wouldn’t make the same mistakes.

And now that Chloe was set to be the city’s hero…

Even if Marinette was rich (for now), it would be nothing compared to what Chloe would have. She would be Paris’s hero! The BEST hero! And unlike that has-been, she at least would use Ladybug’s power and status right!

She didn’t need to be the daughter of the Mayor! Her Mother was still THE Style Queen, Audrey Bourgeois. Adrien Agreste was still her best friend. She was still Chloe Bourgeois, the best thing to happen to Paris! And now as Ladybug, she would still be back on top and ruling Paris in no time!

And it would all start once she got to school.

“Get out of my way!” She exclaimed, shoving some old fart taking his sweet time walking, sending him to the ground and out of her way.

Move aside, peons!

Her destiny awaits!

Back at the intersection, Chloe never noticed the way the elderly gentleman cast her a judging stare from his position on the ground. Or his muttering.

“No, definitely not.”

“Are you okay?” Came a voice.

“Ah, yes!” He replied, accepting the offered hand and taking stock of the girl it belonged to. She was young. In college, likely. “Thank you, young lady!”

“Of course!” She smiled, handing him back his cane. “Do you need help getting home from here? That looked like quite a fall.”

“But don’t you have somewhere to be?” He asked.

“Just school, but I can spare a few minutes if you need…?”

“There is no need for that.” He shook his head. “I will be fine, thank you for your concern.”

Yes, he decided with a smile as he watched her go, this one will do.

_________________

Ugh, walking. Who invented such a thing? She couldn’t wait until she had a personal limo again. This was so not good for her!

Chloe continued plotting as she walked, magnanimously choosing to consider this as part of the reason for revenge instead of its own thing.

And speaking of revenge! Let’s see…

She scrunched her face, trying to remember the events of the first day of school.

There had been that fight with Marinette over her seat. ‘My seat now’, she realized with glee. ‘Which means I’ll be back next to Adrikens!’

Where she should be.

And if she and Dupain-Cheng were now supposed to be switched, that meant ‘the horrible bully Marinette’ would be picking on ‘poor sweet little Chloe’.

She couldn’t wait!

‘Let’s see how you handle being in my shoes, Dupain-Cheng!’

She giggled to herself, ignoring the weirded out looks she was getting from some passing students.

Or the way the other students in general seemed to give her a wide berth.

As they should for the real Queen Bee of this school!

She was already imagining how this was going to go. And with the classroom only a few feet ahead, her vindication was already so close she could taste it!

Except when she finally arrived at the class, it was immediately clear that something wasn’t right.

Dupain-Cheng was there as expected. With her same kiddie pigtails and her pink and grey ensemble with polka-dots—what kind of designer was she anyway?

What wasn’t expected, however, was that Cesaire was already was there as well.

Originally, Cesaire defended Dupain-Cheng and they became friends. If things played out the same, shouldn’t Cesaire be coming in late? Or standing up to Dupain-Cheng here? If anything, they already seemed to be friends.

Unless Cesaire was Dupain-Cheng’s tool like Sabrina had been for her?

It made sense that this new reality would swap more around, she reasoned.

Except…

Chloe frowned. Now that she was actually close enough to the classroom, she could see the classmates gathered into a sort of half circle around Dupain-Cheng and her follower. And as she reached the doorway, she could more clearly hear what they were saying.

“—at the Le Grand Paris.” Marinette said, gesturing to Alya with a smile.

“Wow!”

“So cool!”

“That’s awesome! So you’ve just been staying at the hotel until you can get settled in?”

Alya nodded, smiling. “Yeah. At least for a little while until we could get our own apartment. Mr. Dupain-Cheng was really accommodating. Luckily, we didn’t need it for long before Mom found something. She didn’t want to take advantage of his generosity, but it’s just really amazing that he was willing to offer us room and board just to have Mom as part of his staff!”

Chloe raised a nose in disgust.

Who ever heard of such a thing?! What hotel made any profit letting people stay for free?

“We met when I was cleaning rooms and she offered to help!” Marinette explained brightly.

Chloe nearly gagged.

Cleaned?

Marinette…actually cleaned the hotel?

Why do something that gross?

That’s what the help was for! And Sabrina.

Speaking of, where was she?

Chloe glanced around, but Sabrina was nowhere to be seen amongst the classmates.

Maybe the Wish had done more than switch her with Dupain-Cheng? Maybe Cesaire and Sabrina had been switched as well? So that meant Sabrina should be the new transfer, right?

No wait, that didn’t add up. She had just walked in on Cesaire being introduced.

Sabrina was probably just her best friend, then.

She nodded.

That was good enough, she supposed. At least if she couldn’t have her necessities from the hotel, she still had Sabrina to take care of the more mundane tasks for her.

Unaware of her thoughts, Marinette had continued talking to the others unhindered.

“—said she would be coming to Francios Dupont, and I knew I had to introduce her. She’s new, so be nice.” She instructed, giving a stare to Kim in particular. “Kim.”

The taller boy raised his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine. I’ll give her a week before any challenges.”

Alya raised an eyebrow. “Challenges? Dare I ask?”

Everyone groaned.

“No dares.” Nino begged, covering his face with his hat. “Please. Kim is bad enough every year. I still can’t look at the hotel without remembering what happened last time…”

“Yeah, your dumb dare got us banned from the hotel’s pool for a month!” Alix said, pointing at Kim, who shrugged helplessly.

“Speaking of the hotel!” Marinette cut in, pulling out her tablet. “I convinced my dad to let us do this year’s work study at the hotel.” She tapped her tablet. “I have a little bit of influence over what they’ll choose as assignments, so we can try to come up with roles everyone will like.”

“Hey yeah! That sounds awesome!”

The classmates crowded the desk, chatting excitedly.

“So where will everyone go?”

“Maybe Kim and Max in security? Or Alix and Max in security, so Kim could work the pool area.”

“As a lifeguard?” Kim asked cheerfully. “I’ve done some training, after all.”

Marinette sent him a wry look and pretended to be thinking it over. “Hmm, I don’t know. Maybe as a pool cleaner?”

Kim pouted. “No fair, Mari!”

“Hey, it would do you some good to learn the cleaning process for the pools you use so much.” Mylene said, half jokingly and half pointedly, making Kim lower his head and groan.

Marinette giggled a little. “Well at any rate, I’ve set up a list of all the different jobs at the hotel so people can mark their top preferences. Between all the options, everyone is bound to find something that’ll suit them best.”

She sent Adrien a knowing look. “And of course Adrien will be in the kitchen.”

Adrien beamed at that.

Not that Chloe noticed.

“Kitchen?!” Chloe squawked. “You’re going to make my Adrikens work in a dirty old kitchen?!”

She had known Marinette would be bad, but how dare she punish Adrikens like that? She could just see it now! Her poor Adrikens, forced to slave away in a room meant for servants like…like he was a servant! Where he could get covered in grime and burn his precious skin!

Everyone frowned at her, as if she was the one being ridiculous!

The boy in question raised his hand.

“But I want to—”

“That is a flagrant abuse of power!” Chloe shouted, slamming a hand on the desk. “She’s making Adrikens work like a maid! What if his father hears about this?!”

Adrien wilted in on himself.

“The kitchen isn’t dirty or old.” Marinette said, sounding annoyingly calm with a terseness in her tone that Chloe had heard some service workers use when dealing with particularly difficult customers—though why they used it with her was beyond her. It was as if Marinette was acting like she the reasonable one dealing with an unreasonable customer or something. “They just finished the remodeling three months ago, we clean it regularly, and all of our utensils and equipment are taken good care of.”

“That’s not the point!” Chloe shouted. “How could you use my Adrikens in such a way? Gabriel Agreste would never approve when he hears about this!”

Because he would be hearing about this! Chloe would make sure of it!

“I could just explain to Mr. Agreste that this would be for good publicity.” Marinette suggested. “I’m sure he would allow it.”

She knew it! There were really no lows she wouldn’t go to!

“You’re really pushing this! And you call yourself Adrikens’ friend!” Chloe pointed at Marinette accusingly. “Just because your Daddy’s the Mayor doesn’t mean you can treat people like they’re lesser than you!”

Marinette frowned, looking uncertain as her gaze flickered between the others.

Hah! Even in Chloe’s position, Marinette still wavered easily and she couldn’t hide her insecurities to save her life. It was why she always gave in in the end! Anyone would roll over someone showing such an obvious weakness!

Hell, she may not even need to wait to see her taken down. This was a perfect opportunity to lead everyone in rising up against her tyranny.

After a few seconds, she turned back to face Chloe, no doubt to attack her for challenging her and show her true colors—

“Chloe, are you okay?”

Huh?

“My Dad just runs the Hotel. He isn’t the Mayor.”

What?!

“My Mom is. You met her at your…” She hesitated, sending the others a glance before lowering her voice, “…meeting, remember?”

She had to bite her tongue regarding the ridiculousness of Dupain-Cheng’s mother being the Mayor. Was that woman even a French citizen?

But it was the other part of Marinette’s statement that concerned her. What meeting? What was she even getting at? Why was she trying to be quiet about it.

Nevermind! She’d worry about that later!

“It doesn’t matter!” Chloe shouted, forcing Marinette to back away. “The fact is that you can’t just throw your weight around to get your way and treat people however you like! And I’m not the only one who feels that way!” She exclaimed, turning to the classmates in expectation.

…only to get a number of blank or confused stares in response.

“Um, what are you even talking about?” Alya asked incredulously.

What?

“Yeah, dude! Marinette doesn’t treat anyone that way.” Nino added.

What?

“The only one who pulls that sort of thing is you.” Said Nathaniel bitingly.

Since when does that loser talk?

And also, what?!

“And aren’t you supposed to be leaving Marinette alone?” Alix asked, giving Chloe a pointed look.

What even was that about?

“I thought that was the agreement.” Mylene said quietly.

Seriously?! Was everyone on her side?

They were supposed to be silent! Or judging the Mayor’s brat! That’s what they did with Chloe! Instead, they were jumping to her defense!

“Are you serious?” She demanded. “Like she doesn’t abuse her power and authority to push people around!”

“Of course not!” Marinette insisted. And then to Chloe’s rage, seemed to draw herself up even more, actually looking confident and self assured in a way Chloe herself had never felt in her place. “As the daughter of the mayor, I have to set a good example.”

Ex…

Example?

What even was that?

Unaware of Chloe’s short-circuiting, she continued. “And Chloe, I wouldn’t force anyone to do a role that they don’t want. That’s why I brought the list here for the class to review first.” She gestured to her tablet. “That way everyone has a chance to pick what roles they want and we can avoid the ones no one wants to do. How is that a bad thing?”

It wasn’t, admittedly. But Marinette wasn’t supposed to be the one doing it! That was the problem!

“And who put you in charge?!” Chloe demanded of Marinette. “Why are you deciding where we’ll do the work study? What, are you using the Class Rep position to flaunt your family’s hotel?”

It would make sense. Chloe had been the Class Rep for years originally. If Marinette was her…

Marinette just gave her a strange look.

“No. I’m not Class Rep, remember?”

Chloe balked.

“What?”

“Chloe, did you hit your head?” Marinette asked, sounding worried. She held a hand out in offering. “Do you need to go to the Nurse’s Office?”

Chloe jerked away from the girl’s outreached hand. Why would Dupain-Cheng still be acting…nice?

Clearly she must still be pretending!

“Nevermind that! If you aren’t the Class Rep, then who is?”

“Your benevolent dictator is here!” Came a voice. A familiar voice. The last one Chloe expected.

“Hey, Class Rep.” Marinette said, giving Chloe a pointed look while waving to the person behind her.

Chloe turned slowly. She had to force herself to move. The strain made it feel like her bones were creaking.

Behind her, Sabrina stood tall with a tablet in hand and looking…surprisingly well for a new reality as a lackey of someone other than Chloe. She almost didn’t recognize her.

Chloe stood straight, expecting the standard greeting.

To her shock, Sabrina didn’t even look at her, instead moving past her to…

“Wow, Marinette! Nice jacket!” Sabrina said first thing in greeting as she moved over to the other girl in interest.

Marinette blushed at the praise. “Thanks! My dad got me some new fabric and I was inspired to try this style!” She gave a wink. “Now this is just a test run to see how it works out.”

“It certainly looks comfortable.” Sabrina said in awe.

Were…were they ignoring her?

“I have some of the material left.” Marinette said. “I could make you your own for your birthday if you want?”

Oh gag! Why would anyone want Marinette’s tacky creations instead of the latest in season creation?

And there was Sabrina looking like that was something to be excited about!

Oh no! Without Chloe to guide her, she had lost any sense of fashion! No matter how much fuller her hair was or how she no longer looked like a strong wind could blow her away!

Clearly, her life was a tragedy without Chloe!

“And I checked like you asked.” Marinette continued, unaware of Chloe’s glare. “My Dad said we could do the work study at his hotel.”

“Thank you!” Sabrina cheered. “That’ll be one less thing to worry about.”

“Yeah, we were talking about that when you came in.” Marinette explained.

Chloe glared pointedly at the girl over the way she was blatantly ignoring that they had been in the middle of Chloe calling her out! Seriously, what was the point of getting to tell people off for their flaws if they were going to ignore you and pretend it never happened! Really! You can’t just ignore the truth like that!

“We were discussing what positions everyone wanted.” Mylene said. “Even if we can’t get the exact ones we’d like, there’ll at least be options.”

“Juleka and I can clean the ball room!” Rose exclaimed. “It will give us a chance to check the acoustics of the room. We’ve been wondering about the effects and what to expect if our band ever plays in such an area.“

Nino looked intrigued at that. “Hey, that does sound like a good idea. Maybe sign me up for that as well?” He asked, turning to Marinette before mumbling to himself about the echo effect on his beats.

Marinette gave him a nod before turning back to Rose. “I heard you guys just started, didn’t you?“

Rose nodded, beaming. “It’s so much fun!”

Marinette smiled and marked it down on her list. “Then I’ll suggest that for you.”

She paused for a moment, hesitating in clear unwillingness to continue before giving a strained smile.

“And Chloe...”

“How about trash cleanup?” Alix snarked, giving the girl a dark look.

“Excuse you?!” Chloe shouted in outrage. “Do you know who my daddy is?!”

The looks she was given were completely unimpressed.

“A baker?”

“And not even a good one.”

"Hey, his croissants are all right."

Chloe blanched, remembering that her father wasn’t the mayor in this world.

He wasn’t even rich.

He was just a baker now. A simple ordinary not even very good baker who was barely keeping his head above water trying to maintain his business and manage his teenage daughter.

And that made Chloe…

Nothing.

Her go to tactic now had no power.

But…but Sabrina! She realized in a flash that her minion was apparently the Class Rep! She could have her back her!

But when she spun around to look, the girl had actually just abandoned her and the gathering altogether to sit next to Mylene of all people! Mylene! And they were just…chatting! Since when did those two spend time together! And why wasn’t Sabrina there for her?!

“Chloe!” Came the only voice worth listening to.

Oh, Adrikens! Of course you would always be there for her!

She spun to him in expectation. Because of course her Adrikens would be on her side! Her savior! Her only ally against such cruel tyranny—

But he didn’t look happy. Or in any way amicable to her. “Don’t forget!” He whispered sharply to her. “You’re still on probation! You can’t start another commotion before the first class of the school year has even started!”

Chloe blinked.

Pro…

Probation?

…

Her?!

“How am I on—?!”

It was impossible! She had never had a criminal record! She’d never even committed a crime! Or anything that warranted getting in trouble over!

Regardless of what Ladybug said, since she clearly had it out for her.

“Just leave Marinette alone.” Adrien whispered, turning her away from the rest of the group and…her. “Please.”

She didn’t want to. There were so many questions and so many things she wanted to demand right now. She was very well inclined to make demands regardless, because she didn’t know what was going on and she needed answers.

But it was her Adrikens asking.

And she didn’t have much chance to say anything else as Bustier had chosen that time to arrive.

“Welcome back, everyone!” The woman greeted cheerfully. Her arrival cut off all other discussion as the students made their way to their desks. “I hope everyone had a good break and that we’re all ready to start the new year.”

A chorus of affirmations followed as everyone took their seats.

Everyone except Chloe, who was glancing around the room in confusion.

None of this was right.

She had expected to fight with Marinette over her seat to get to sit behind Adrien, but he was sitting at the back next to Nathaniel. And Marinette was sitting in the mid row on the other side from him, pulling Alya to sit next to her. But if she wasn’t sitting behind Adrien, what was even the point of challenging her for her seat?

…where even was Chloe’s seat?

She would have sad next to Sabrina, but that traitor hadn’t moved from her spot next to Mylene and left no room for Chloe! And nobody else was calling Chloe over—so if someone else had taken Sabrina’s place as her best friend, she had no way of even knowing who it was!

“Chloe,” Bustier called to her, ever so gently. “Your seat is up at the front, remember? As we discussed the last time we met.” She gestured to the bench at the front.

It was across the one Chloe had sat at previously, being the front desk closest to the door. And to her frustration, there was no one sitting with her! How else was she supposed to get her assignments copied? And wasn’t that the seat that loser, Nino, had been put in because he got in trouble? Chloe wasn’t in trouble though!

Adrien’s words about probation hit her, making her wince.

…was she?

She wanted to ask. She wanted to stomp her foot and demand the answers she deserved.

But Bustier was staring at her expectantly. And she could hear some giggles and snickering from behind her the longer she waited. She glanced back to Adrikens, but…he wasn’t even looking at her! He was conversing with Nathaniel over something on his sketchbook!

How could a sketchbook be more important than his best friend?!

With little other choice, Chloe slid into the front desk, blushing furiously in humiliation and trying to ignore everyone behind her.

It didn’t matter.

None of them mattered!

None of this would matter once she got the Miraculous and put Dupain-Cheng in her place! Then everyone would know SHE was the Queen Bee!

She was sure of it!

#ml fic #chloe's lament #chloe bourgeois #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #kwami swap #plagg #be careful what you wish for #chloe is not careful #chloe is a horrible person #miracle queen

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lilxberry · 3 years

Text

That’s My Girl - Scott Lang

Requested by: @bnhaxreaderquotes

Could I have a Scott Lang x longterm girlfriend fic?? Where she’s like super strong but super dumb?? Like she’s Thor but human and female XD bonus if she lifts Thor’s hammer to get to something and everyone’s like 👀 and she’s like ??? And scots like 🥰 “that’s my gf”

I loved this idea, I just really didn’t want to use the word stupid so much lmao I mostly referred to reader as “slow” I believe but like, this whole thing is kinda cute asf so I’m happy with it. I hope you’re happy with it too

Warnings: Like, a singular swear. Sweet ass Scott. Upset!Reader? IDEK ANYMORE.

Words: 1,645

Pairings: Scott Lang x Reader (female reader) (super strong reader?)

Unplanned sequel; That’s My Wife

_______________

There’re many words to describe you.

Sweet? Yes. Kind? Yep. Selfless? Definitely. Beautiful? 100%. Strong? No doubt.

Stupid?

No, just…slow.

It’s not that you lacked intelligence, just, your brain worked at a different pace to that of others. Your fellow teammates could tell you that. Especially your partner Scott.

Scott, the sweetie pie that he is, certainly tries his best to help you catch up, to understand things that hadn’t really made sense to you at first. He’s no stranger to defending you either, no matter who or what it’s against.

Including your teammates.

“So, like C-3P0?”

Your head was tilted in confusion and your face was scrunched up as you tried desperately to understand what Tony was talking about.

You had walked into the lab finding all of the Avengers surrounding Tony rambling on about his newest creation, engineering some crazy new robotic tech. The others that had been subjected to his showcasing had explained to you that he’d called them in, forced them to watch the unveiling of Frankenstarks newest monster.

When you had asked why you hadn’t been called in, you’d missed the way Tony and the others tensed up. They knew that you wouldn’t understand a word Stark was speaking, as if the man were speaking some foreign language to you, but they didn’t want to explain that it was because you were ‘dense’.

The heaven-sent that is Scott stepped forward, a big, bright smile on his face as he entwined his fingers with your own as he came up with an excuse for the billionaire, saving Starks’ skin and sparing your feelings.

“He thought you’d find it boring. We all do to be honest honey but only so many of us are lucky enough to have an out,” was the sugar-coated explanation he conjured up on the spot.

You bought it easily, nodding in understanding with the sweetest of smiles before reaching up on your tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek. The others visibly relaxed, though you were oblivious as you stared up at Scott with a love-sick expression.

You had then gone on to ask what exactly it was that Tony had been working on which had led to a longwinded explanation with wild gestures and a heap of words you certainly didn’t understand whatsoever. Truth be told, he’d lost you within the first sentence.

Tony heaved a sigh. “No, not like C-3P0. The design is completely different and the level of A.I. being used it higher than that of C-3P0,” he spoke exasperatedly, a mocking tone taking over his tone near the end.

Feeling even more confused that what you had originally felt, you tried once more to understand.

“So…like Vision?”

Sam snorted as majority of the others smirked or tried to supress their smiles, Vision unsurprisingly seemed stoic as ever. Tony, on the other hand, had a look of genuine surprise. Almost looking proud.

“Uh, yeah, actually. You worked that out a lot faster than I thought you would honestly,” Tony said as an off-handed comment causing the others to still and Scott to tense slightly beside you while your brows furrowed.

“What’d you mean?”

Scott once again interjected to save the day, dragging your attention to him instead. “None of us really got it, that’s all. I’m pretty sure Thor still doesn’t, honestly.” He whispered the last part as he pointed his thumb towards the towering, blonde Asgardian.

Although your heart fluttered at the thought of Scott trying to be so sweet and kind to you, you couldn’t help the hurt that spread through you. You knew how the others viewed you, how they thought you were stupid, how you don’t understand anything.

Rather than show it affected you, you forced a smile on to your face and a tiny giggle to pass your lips.

Glancing at the others before allowing your eyes to fall back on to your boyfriend, you kept the feigned smile on your lips as you spoke. “I just remembered I gotta load of stuff to do. I’ll see you guys later.”

Scott flashed you his pearly whites in a wide smile before pecking your forehead and giving you a quiet “Sure babe.”

Walking backwards, you called out loudly to the group before exiting the room. “Have fun with Vision 2.0.”

Usually, when the team unintentionally commented on you in such a way, it would never really affect in such a negative way but today, it was just a series of failure after failure, your day all-round being bad.

From the comment in the lab, to the accidental breaking of a trainee’s arm due to you forgetting the strength you held over others, to Steve and Bucky taking the last of the coffee in the pot of the coffee machine which you had no idea how to work.

You had even bumped into someone in the hallway, the file you had been carrying falling to the ground and the papers inside scattering across the floor in disarray, leaving you to try reorganising the lot, taking a whole hour and a half.

It’s unfortunate that the person to be at the end of your disgruntled mood would be someone who you strongly considered a friend.

The Avengers who were currently residing at the compound were all scattered within the main living area and the open kitchen when you walked in, looking dishevelled as you frantically searched for a package that you had been notified had been delivered.

Walking through, you looked to see if the damn thing was atop any table you passed. Hell, you even lifted one of the chairs slightly to see if someone was cruel enough to hide the thing under it.

Although everyone had opted to watch you curiously, it was your sweet Scott to break the silence.

“Hey honey, whatcha’ doing there?” he asked curiously.

You grumbled out your answer, honestly ready for the day to be over with. “I’m looking for my delivery.”

Sam snorted before pointing towards the island in the centre of the kitchen. “You mean that massive package right there?”

Low and behold, there sat your package on top of the cool, marble surface, just with an added feature. You scowled, storming over towards the thing. You turned your fiery gaze to Thor, who was overall minding his own business chowing down on the entire contents of a Pop Tart box.

“WHY DID YOU PUT YOUR HAMMER ON MY FUCKING DELIVERY?!” You roared out, everyone’s eyes widened in complete and utter shock, Thor even jumped at the sudden loud booming. As he opened and reclosed his mouth repeatedly in a pathetic attempt to say something, anything, you continued.

“There could’ve been something really important in there! Or-or super fragile or something! What if you broke it?!”

During your explosion at the poor Asgardian, you happened to grasp the handle of Mjölnir and lift it with ease, causing everyone’s eyes to widen further and even a few mouths to drop open, gaping at the sight in front of them, Tony choking on his drink that he had been taking a sip of. Although Scott was just as shocked as those around him, he more so looked like a small child who’s completely wonder-struck, a twinkle in his eye.

“Never, and I mean NEVER, put your hammer on my damn things again. GOT IT?!” You shoved the hammer into Thors’ chest harshly, causing him to fumble to get a hold of it.

Once certain he had a tight grasp on the thing, you released your hold and spun on the spot, now becoming witness to everyone’s flabbergasted expressions. “WHAT?” you asked in exasperation and confusion, today completely tiring you out mentally and emotionally.

A pregnant silence befell you all before Scott suddenly jumped out of his seat, face ecstatic, arms raised high into the air above his head, hands balled up into fists, a loud and excited shout escaping him.

“YES!”

“You-you’re worthy?” Thor asked quietly to no one in particular.

Your brows furrowed deeply, now entirely confused and ever so slightly self-conscious. “What?”

“You’re worthy babe! Hell yeah! Up top!” he had made his way over towards you, now one arm raised with his hand now relaxed, waiting on you to give him a high five.

“I’m not following…”

“Only Thor could lift the hammer ‘cause he was the only one who’s worthy or whatever. It’s like impossible for anyone else to lift it,” Clint started to explain before being cut off by Natasha.

“Until you, that is. You’re the only other one whose been able to lift it.”

“Oh,” was all you said before shrugging your shoulders and waddling your way past Scott and towards your package on the kitchen island, picking it up and beginning to walk away.

Before you left though, you thought this to be the perfect opportunity to finally boast about something that you had been able to do that the others couldn’t. “Well, I may be stupid but at least I don’t put my back out by trying to lift a little hammer.”

You smirked as you continued to walk away, your destination being your room, package what would be heavy to most in your arms. Scott laughed loudly, something you could hear as you continued to retreat to your bedroom.

Meanwhile…

“HELL YEAH! THAT’S MY GIRL! WOO!” Scott began to follow after you, still shouting out every single word he spoke. “HONEY! THAT WAS LIKE THE COOLEST THING EVER! DID YOU SEE THEIR FACES?! Oh man, I can’t wait to tell Cass. SHE’S GONNA FREAK!”

The Avengers were still suck in their retrieves of shock, all unmoving, all trying to process the newfound information that you could lift the hammer.

Thor seemed to be taking it the worst, looking ever so slightly frightened, gulping loudly.

“I believe I have new matters to discuss with my father...”

_______________

I love any Paul Rudd character just as much as him

I even have a t-shirt with his beautiful ass face on lmao

If you want to be added to a taglist lemme know

Anywho, I hope you enjoy

As always, constructive criticism and requests are welcomed and greatly appreciated :D

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Marvel taglist:

@thanossexual

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inviberu · 3 years

Text

music box

Confessing was no easy thing, especially for someone like Heath who could barely take a compliment without his cheeks burning red. When someone suggested he should give a gift instead, the gears inside his head started to turn. The most beautiful gift of all is one that comes from the bottom of one's heart—the question is: what was it?

Heath didn't know how to express his feelings without getting too many butterflies in his stomach to the point that he has to bend over to calm himself down or without tripping over his words and forgetting everything he planned to say. His cheeks would flare up and he would tear his gaze away from your figure as he told himself inside his head: "Not today, maybe not tomorrow either…."

Faust could barely stand the way Heath kept on backing out at the last minute during his decisions to finally confess his feelings. Faust pushed up his glasses and crossed his arms with a stern look on his face as he sighed. Heath sat up straighter, hoping that Faust wasn't about to scold him about something related to missions, unaware that Faust called him to his room to talk about more… personal matters instead of their line of work.

"I know there's a lot of stuff going on inside your head, but you shouldn't let it affect you when you're doing missions." Every word that came from Faust's lips was a lie to disguise his genuine concern for his student—roundabout, as a lot of Eastern folk are. Upon seeing Heath's face contort into one of slight panic, Faust immediately followed up with a question: "What is it that's bothering you anyway?"

Another lie. Faust already knew well what the source of Heath's worries is but he'd rather have Heath be unaware of the fact that he's been paying attention to him. Heath glanced down, a light hue of pink dusting his cheeks and Faust could already tell what this was about even if he hadn't known about Heath's countless attempts to confess to you before.

"Faust-sensei… do you know how to confess to someone?" Heath's unexpected question caught Faust off guard, his eyes widening in surprise before letting out a small cough after regaining his composure.

"C-Confess?" Faust tried his best to play dumb. "Like those love confessions?"

Heath nodded slowly, "I've been trying to confess to someone for a while now but… I keep on getting scared at the last minute. It's like the fear of being rejected suddenly walking up behind me and grabbing my shoulder."

"... You're a wonderful young man, Heath. I doubt there's anyone out there that would reject you" Faust closed his eyes as he tipped his hat slightly, trying his best to reassure him.

"Plus, you'll never know the answer unless you go for it." Faust chuckled, a smile forming on his face. Heath's eyes twinkled all of a sudden and felt his enthusiasm bounce back up as he grabbed Faust's hands into his own—Faust's expression slowly turning to one of discomfort.

"Then… Can you help me?" Heath asked hopefully.

"Me…?" Faust exclaimed, his glasses almost dropping down.

"W-Well only if you want to! I wouldn't dare force you to help me against your wishes..."

"I suppose I can try… I can't guarantee anything, of course." Faust agreed reluctantly and Heath beamed, his smile widening in happiness as he said his thanks to the Eastern teacher. "Well, first of all, if you find yourself unable to speak in front of them… don't you think there's a better alternative rather than confessing in person?"

After all this time, Heath had always tried to confess to you upfront and had never bothered to consider any other options until Faust brought it up. Heath wanted to curl up and bury himself six feet under at the sudden realization, feeling as if all this time spent was just used for needless worrying.

"Like a letter of sorts?" Heath asked carefully. Faust shook his head and merely answered his question vaguely.

"Something that comes from the heart." He pointed towards Heath's heart. "You're good at craftsmanship, aren't you? Why not make good use of that?"

A few days had already passed since Faust made that remark—living inside Heath's brain with no signs of leaving soon. A letter would've been easier but after taking it into more consideration, as well as Faust’s words, he decided to give it more thought. What was another alternative? A gift instead of a letter, perhaps? Heath ruffled his hair, deep in thought as he sat on one of the cushioned seats inside the lounge.

“Heathcliff?” A voice called out, snapping Heath out of his daze and adjusted his vision to the person in front of him—the northern wizard, White. Curiously, he asked, “is there something troubling you? Won’t you allow this old man to help if so?”

“Sir White… it’s nothing important, I appreciate the offer though.” Heath shook his head, trying to brush off White’s offer as politely as he could. White merely crossed his arms, nodding his head before a smug and knowing smile took over his face—as if he already knew what was troubling Heath without having him say anything.

“Ohoho… it’s about the matters of the heart, is it not?” Bullseye. Heath felt as if his heart was about to jump out of his chest, unable to hide the surprise evident in his expression. White didn’t wait for an answer, for he already knew he struck gold—he let out a laugh. “It’s written all over your face! A young man falling victim to love… is what your expression is saying.”

Heath covered his face by instinct, horrified at the newfound information that it was written all over his face. He wished he could keep a poker face like Lennox, perhaps that way he wouldn't be so easy to read—unaware that was precisely one of his charming points.

“Haha… is it that obvious?” Heath muttered weakly, burying his face into his palms and White only chuckled at the cute display. “Sir White, do you know of any good gifts fit for a confession?”

White rubbed his chin, deep in thought. A fitting gift for a love confession—one would normally think of something like flowers or sweets as if it was valentine's day, that was the textbook answer, though when White glanced at Heath and remembered his knack for machinery and the likes, he suddenly remembered of that one era that had a specific trend.

“It's a bit old fashioned but back in the day, music boxes were the trend. Why not make one with music that reminds you of your beloved? Wouldn't that be perfect for someone like you?” White beamed, smiling as if he gave a groundbreaking piece of advice. Heath’s eyes widened ever so slightly with his mouth agape as he thought about his words; music boxes were indeed old fashioned as you wouldn't see it normally these days.

“Me…? Make a music box?” He has never tried it before, especially not for a special someone, though he was confident he's able to make one if he tried.

“Ohoho, you’re good with machinery, are you not? Why not put those skills to use to make a heartfelt gift?” White nodded enthusiastically. Heath couldn't help but get lost in his thoughts, already trying to figure out how he was going to construct one—it seems like the young master has already figured out which gift he should give.

Heath spent his days holed up inside his room by his desk, materials sprawled all over with chunks of wood littered around after he had carved the finest wood he could get his hands on after returning to the East for a short while. A focused look adorning his face as he drowned out the noises surrounding him, immersed in his craft.

Countless music sheets were crumpled and thrown to the bin at the side which was overflowing with scrapped pieces—music pieces. Heath was no expert like Rustica when it came to music composition, he had left his seat several times to consult the Western Wizard in order to make sure the music wasn't disappointing and was able to convey his feelings, somehow.

He planned to leave the box and a note anonymously, though he already suspected it wasn't going to be very discreet as he started carving the box with the same carving he engraved into Shino’s magic tool. One look at it and you would be able to guess who did the carving, for it was named Blanchett for a reason.

He added the finishing touches, blowing the small particles of dust away that remained in the corners before opening the box as a sweet, soft melody started to play—its gears turning as it played music flawlessly. Heath smiled at the music box he created, proud. He put all of his feelings of adoration for you inside one box, only revealing itself if you decide to open it, akin to Pandora's box.

As if reciting his last prayer, he clutched it tightly as he muttered his spell under his breath before standing up and deciding to leave it by your doorstep—this time, he'll let you know of his feelings.

As he arrived at your doorstep, he quietly wished that you weren't inside your room because that would make things complicated as Heath already felt like he was doing something scandalous. His cheeks burned red as he quickly dropped the music box as well as a small note before knocking once and scurrying off back to his room where he could finally put his mind to rest.

You opened the door, greeted by no one but a mysterious box and a small note that didn't indicate whoever sent it to you for there was no name. Without much hesitation, you picked it and inspected it—the intricate design catching you off guard as you recognized it as the same one present in Shino’s magical tool. And the one who made it was none other than Heath himself, that only meant one thing—Heath was behind this mysterious set-up. You felt your chest bubble up in excitement, an uncontrollable smile forming in your face as you felt giddy.

You opened the note, it read: For you have captured my heart, I offer this gift to you.

You felt your heart leap at the words you read, scanning it once again to make sure your eyes weren't playing tricks on you, cheeks heating up as you realized what this meant. You quickly opened the box, not expecting a few blue butterflies to come out and fly around you as a soft melody played from it—a music box Heath made just for you. You could feel his magic from the box, did he imbue his magic? You suspected as much.

The longer you listened to the music, the more you felt like running to his room to tell him you felt the same way. There wasn't a single thing stopping you from doing so. With a determined look on your face, you started heading towards his room. Fortunately, you saw him walking in the hall, it seems like he hasn't arrived in his room yet.

You took the opportunity to jump at him, his arms instinctively wrapping themselves around you, panic was written all over his face when he realized it was you who threw themselves at him. With the proximity between the two of you, you placed a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose. His heart felt like it was about to explode.

“W-What are you doing!?” He grabbed you by the shoulders and tried to push you away in an attempt to calm his racing heart. You smirked as you felt like teasing him more, though the huge smile on your face was unfitting as you told him:

“You could've told me in person… but, I like you too, silly!”

#mhyk #mhyk writing #my writing #promise of wizard #mhyk x reader #heathcliff blanchett x reader #promise of wizard heathcliff #heathcliff blanchett #mhyk heathcliff #heathcliff x reader #heath x reader #no beta we die like white

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lillywillow · 3 years

Text

From Russia With Love

Summary: When Steve and Bucky investigate an old HYDRA base left over from World War II, they find something nobody could have ever predicted... A pilot from the legendary 588th night bomber regiment frozen in time.

Word Count: 2117

Square Filled: Military Base

Pairings: Bucky x Female Reader

Warnings: WWII warfare, slight angst

Written for @star-spangled-bingo

Author’s Note: Although I will be using real historical people and events, some of the names and actions I will be using are fictional. The 588th night bomber regiment were an all female squadron from Russia in World War II. They were given hand-me-down men’s uniforms and poor, outdated equipment. Their planes were not designed for combat. The planes let out a whistle as it idled through the sky which the German’s thought sounded like a broomstick, giving them the nickname ‘Die Nachthexen’ or Night Witches.

Germany, 1944. Three Polikarpov U-2 biplanes move silently through the night sky, their engines cut at the behest of the navigators. A soldier was making his rounds about the perimeter of the base when an unearthly scream pierced the air. A chill ran down his spine as he looked around. Suddenly, a shadow of a plane darkens the ground. The soldier abruptly realised what was happening.

“Die Nachthexen!” he screamed. The base was rapidly brought to life with activity when the air raid siren wailed. Soldiers rushed to man the anti-aircraft guns as the Night Witches dropped the first bomb. Two of the planes broke formation to draw away the ground fire as the third dropped the next bomb. The last plane made a sharp turn and was able to drop the last bomb on the base. With their mission complete, the engines went back on and the planes headed home to Russia.

Out of nowhere, a German fighter plane appeared. The biplanes were slower but their much smaller size gave them an advantage in the fact they had a tight turning ratio but for one plane, it wasn’t enough. One of the pilots cried out in pain as a bullet grazed her arm. The canvas wings of the plane were ablaze, there was no other option but to bring the plane down. The navigator held the pilot’s shoulders to steady her as they crashed into the ground.

Dazed by the impact, the pilot held her head, feeling something wet and warm drip down her face. She turned behind her to check on her navigator whose head was slumped to her chest. She reached for her hand.

“Yelena... I’m sorry...” Black spots swam in her vision before the darkness took over.

...

Germany, present day. Steve and Bucky were called on a mission to investigate what was possibly a HYDRA base left over from WWII. On their way in, they noticed the remains of a downed plane a few miles out from the base that nature had taken over in the course of sixty years give or take. On the surface, it had the hell bombed out of it. Steve managed to find a charred door in amongst the wreckage and went in, Bucky following behind. Underground was a rabbit warren of rooms and passageways, their secrets lost to time, waiting to be uncovered.

“We should split up,” Steve said, getting out his flashlight. Bucky nodded and got out his own. The duo headed in, checking each and every room for anything that might be of HYDRA origin.

This place gave Bucky the creeps and bad memories began to invade his mind; memories of when he lost his identity of Sergeant James Buchannan Barnes and given the new one of The Winter Soldier. Room after room they looked in until Steve found something.

“Buck, you gotta see this...” Bucky made his way to where Steve called him to and whatever he was expecting, this was not it. The room was still lit with sickening fluorescent lights. In the back corner, there were two pods. One was empty, whatever test subject it held was long gone. The other had a woman still cryogenically frozen inside. Bucky placed his right hand on the glass.

“She’s just like me...”

“Think you can make sense of these?” Steve asked, holding up a dusty file written in German. Bucky picked them up and read through the notes. It stated the woman’s name and why she was there. There was also information on a second woman, presumably whoever was in the second pod. Apparently, they were going to be used for a programme akin to the Winter Soldiers or the Red Room but the project had been scrapped and only one of the subjects was moved.

“I’m going to let Fury know what we’ve found.” Steve headed out to make the call but Bucky stayed behind. He couldn’t leave this woman all alone now that he knew she was there.

...

Feeling a pounding in your head, you opened your eyes. Slowly, you sat up, looking around. You appeared to be back in your base. Funny... you didn’t remember making it back. The last thing you remembered was crashing after completing a mission. Was a rescue sent out and that’s how you got here? You spotted another woman in one of the other beds. Steadily, you got up and went over to her.

“Come on, Yelena. We’ve got another mission,” you said, shaking her shoulder. As she sat up, you immediately noticed that this was not your navigator.

“You’re not Yelena...”

“No, I’m a new recruit. My name is Natalia Romanova,” she replied in Russian.

“Well I hope you’re a quick study, Natalia. Major Bershanskaya will not make things easy for you. Now get ready. Training for you starts now.”

As you got dressed, something struck you as very odd. Your uniform fitted perfectly like it was tailored for you and your boots weren’t oversized. It set off alarm bells in your head but you didn’t want to frighten the new girl. As you headed out, you saw an officer standing and waiting for you.

“Who are you?” you asked, confused as to why this man would be here, especially one who looked so high up in command. Something else that you noticed was that there were planes around the base.

“I’m your new commanding officer...” That did it. There was no way your commander would leave her girls. You managed to snatch his sidearm but even faster, Natalia had you in a headlock, one hand holding the wrist you held the gun.

“Who are you?! Where am I?! What have you done with Yelena?! Where is my navigator?!” The pair exchanged a look and conversed in English, something you didn’t understand.

“I can explain everything... just give me the gun,” the man prompted. Slowly, you handed him the sidearm which he put away and Natalia let go of you.

“You have been asleep for over sixty years...”

“What?! How?! We... we were just there... and... Yelena! Where is she? Is she okay? Is she safe?” The pair exchanged another look.

“You were the only one we found in the base...” You broke down sobbing and straight away the man held you up as you trembled. He rubbed your back and stroked your hair which you found strangely comforting. How could you have been asleep for sixty years? It was only hours ago you were flying to drop bombs on German bases.

...

A few hours later, you were sitting by the window of the room which had been set up for you thinking over all the new information which had been given to you. They had given you new clothes but the only ones who spoke your language were the ones you met at the fake base camp. Your thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“May I come in?” A male’s voice asked.

“Yes...” The man who you came to learn was named Bucky walked in with a plate of food.

“I thought you might like something to eat...”

“I’m not hungry...”

“I know what you’re going through but you still need to eat...”

“How could you possibly know what I’m going through?! Do you know what it’s like to be with friends one minute and find out they’re all gone?! To wake up in a strange place with strange people?! To have no idea what the hell is going on?!” He was quiet for a few moments.

“Actually... I do.” You were taken aback from his response. Bucky sat down on your bed and began telling you his life’s story.

He told you about his best friend Steve who always used to getting in trouble. He enlisted in the American army the moment he could. His time in the Howling Commandos. About how he fell off the train and became a weapon for HYDRA for decades. As he spoke, his eyes began to ghost over, reliving the old memories that you could see were haunting him. You sat next to him and held his hand. Bucky hastily wiped his eyes.

“What about you? Tell me your story...”

You smiled softly. You told him about your father who died defending Osowiec Fortress and how it inspired you to fight for your country. When the call went out for women to fly bomber planes, you and your best friend Yelena Belsky both applied and got in, you as a pilot and she as a navigator. You flew many sorties together. Your commander Major Yevdokiya Bershanskaya was stern but fair with you girls but taught you everything you knew. You spoke about your last mission, the one you were on when your plane was shot down.

Bucky listened to your every word, looking at you with total admiration. Most of the men looked at you with pity or distain. You couldn’t help but blush a little under his intense gaze.

“I, um... I think I’ll have something to eat now,” you mumbled, taking the plate he brought with him. “Thank you...”

“Anytime... if you ever want to talk, you can always come to me. Nat should be available too...”

“I appreciate that.”

To Bucky, those memories were a lifetime ago but to you, they were only like yesterday. It somehow felt good to share those stories with someone who understood what it was like to go through the same thing you were.

...

The months flew by and before you knew it, a year had passed. Between Natasha and Bucky you were now fluent in English. They taught you hand to hand combat and other things you would need to join The Avengers, although, you were pretty much an ace pilot when it came to the jets. Natasha became your best friend and you frequently spoke in Russian with her. You formed a bond with Steve too once the language barrier came down, sharing war stories with each other but the person on the team you were closest to was Bucky. He taught you a lot over the months and it wasn’t long before you started dating. It was inevitable.

...

One night, you were standing on the balcony, looking at the moon and thinking about that fateful night you were assigned to bomb that base all those years ago. You wondered if your friend was dead or alive. The team had told you they would help you find her, searching all HYDRA archives they came across and Bucky helped you to follow every lead. Your heart hoped for the best but you knew to expect the worst.

“Hey, Doll.” You turned to see Bucky standing in the doorway. He walked over to you and put his arm around you, kissing your head. “What’s on your mind?”

“Yelena... I can’t help but hope that I’ll find her one day. She was like my sister. Natasha has been wonderful, you all have but it’s hard being stuck in the past...”

“Tell me about it,” Bucky muttered softly. “You know... it’s been just over a year now since we met...”

“So it has,” you wistfully replied. “Time sure flies...”

“It sure does... and I don’t want to waste any more of it.” You looked confused as Bucky pulled away from you.

“When I was called on that mission to uncover an old HYDRA base, I never thought I would meet the love of my life. You’re one of the bravest, strongest, most incredibly women I know. Will you marry me?” Bucky got down on one knee and presented you with a beautiful ring. You couldn’t help but tear up.

“Yes, Bucky, I will!” Bucky smiled and stood up, sliding the ring on your finger and kissing you.

Who knew that a German base lost to time would connect two military personals so perfectly together?

#ssb2021 #military base #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes #natasha romanoff #Proposal #WWII #Night Witches #588 #HYDRA #Marvel #marvelfanfiction #Night Bomber #Fighter planes #biplanes #all female strike force #history #from russia with love #Sabaton

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yourcoolfriendwithallthecandy · 3 years

Text

Magic and Miracles and BEYOND Chapter 14

Ya'll, when I say, that the writer's block for this story practically parked it's 18 wheeler sized ass in front of me, like a boulder on a mountain road AND THERE WAS NO WAY AROUND IT, to the point that I didn't know if I ever would get to write it again and I had to take a break for...way too fucking long. Also- for the record, all of this still happens in my head in 2018, you know, when I started writing this story, because BY GOD, all these characters should have had their weddings and a small piece of happily ever after BEFORE COVID comes to fuck everyone over. But Hazel's dress, that's still 2022 Pnina Tornay, it's a fantasy story, I'm fudging the timeline, a little. Also Hazel's engagement ring? Chocolate diamond. She's a foodie. It made sense.

Also, Yes, I do realize that I am face casting Alex Pettyfer twice. The first was as modern Ravus Nox Flueret, and then...as Dash Parr in my modern Incredibles AU Why So Jaded. Look, I just adore the guy ok? He's...incredibly good looking and talented, and HOT. They don't happen in the same alternate universe, it's fine, it's fine.

Anyway, so back to the road block, sorry, detour, anyway, so then, tragedy struck in my personal life, ok several tragedies kind of piled up all at once it felt like and shook me to my core, and suddenly those earthquakes, knocked that boulder off the road and opened up the creative roadway to this story again, then I wrote something truly horrific for this particular story. AND IT'S AWESOME, like it's brutal, will reach inside and grab your heart, put it into a blender before handing it back to you as you cry and say thank you, kind of awesome, so angsty.

But, I couldn't just...post it and not keep wrapping up other character's story lines because this was still "everyone needs to find their happily ever after" foundations laid. So. What that did, was give me a "if you want this- angsty thing to happen, how do you get the story from here to there, now that you don't have this fucking boulder in the way." and my brain finally went "I got it! TREDD IS AN ASSHOLE" and boom, problem solved. See I had- most of the components to this particular chapter, already written and mentally mapped out and planned out but the "go juice" to write it was empty.

But Tredd, lovable, asshole Tredd, gave me what I needed. I don't even know if I should tag who I used to tag...however long ago I used to post chapters to this story or if they have all changed their usernames and stuff or if any of them are still interested. But you know what? I'm gonna post it anyway. So enjoy.

Also, @the-immortal-marshal, thanks for sticking with me and hanging in there, THE PAIN IS COMMING NEXT CHAP. ENJOY the last moment of "peace and happiness where everything is perfect and nothing hurts" while it lasts.

Magic and Miracles and BEYOND

Chapter 14

“Hello Behbehs!” Selena cooed when she came home from school to her dogs and Duchess who eagerly greeted her before she got all the packages from the little stylish boxes she built out of pallets to create a little place for packages to be stored on her front porch before she and Ravus could get home and get them in their apartment.

“Ah thank goodness.” Selena breathed in relief when a couple of them were those pre prepared meal kits. Because with both her and Ravus being in school and both of them working too, they rarely had a chance to go grocery shopping anymore and the meal kits were a healthy alternative to fast food and surprisingly less expensive than take out and right now they were still in their “try everything once to find our favorites” stage. But Selena barely had them all unpacked and put away by the time her phone chimed.

‘Hope you had a good day today Darling’ Ravus texted when his phone chimed that she had made it home.

‘It’s been fine, busy, how about yours?’ Selena texted back.

‘Not great, I’ll be happy to call it a day soon.’ Ravus texted back as Selena frowned at her phone before she got an idea and raced up the stairs to get dressed in more business formal attire that was clearly flirtatious that covered up some ridiculously sexy lingerie and some really good ‘fuck me’ heels and put on some makeup and put her hair up in a quick bun then quickly left their apartment to go to Miracles Hospital where she parked next to Ravus’ car and purposefully strutted into the offices, using the badge keycard Sylva had made for her to get in before she made a B-Line for Ravus’ temperoary office while his was under construction before she checked in with Kathryn to make sure he was alone in his office before she opened his office door and struck a pose in his door frame with a smoldering look and a mischevious smirk on her lips that had Ravus’ jaw dropping to the floor at the vision she was.

“Hey. What are you doing here? Is there a problem with…?” Ravus began to ask as she closed the door, locked it then sauntered up to him and straddled his lap before she kissed him passionately as he eagerly held her and pulled her to himself as he kissed her back with equal passion that had Ravus thanking God that he put such an amazing, wonderful and sexy as hell woman in his life that could give him the one thing he wanted that he knew money could never buy- her love, priceless and perfect as it was. And with her love came devotion, loyalty, honesty, faithfulness and right now- desire and it was his life’s goal to make himself as desirable to her as he could possibly be because being the object of her affection was all he could ever want and he wanted her to feel as lucky that she had him for a partner- that he felt about her.

“How’s your day now?” Selena purred when they broke for air.

“Ah-amazing, I can’t, can’t complain.” Ravus answered truthfully, his mind desperate in it’s grasping for coherent thought as he was completely blown away and delighted by her little surprise visit as his hands traveled down her body, appreciating every nuance and curve she had.

“Good, now do you want to fuck me here or in the sleep studies wing, in the car or at home?” Selena asked and watched as he swallowed thickly as his own eyes grew a dark stormy gray with lust.

“Is there an ‘all of them’ option?” Ravus returned which made Selena smile brighter as he quickly hiked up her skirt the rest of the way to reveal that she had not been wearing underwear but was wearing thigh highs attached to a matching green silk garter belt ,which were his favorite kind of stockings as his cock tried to break through his pants trying to get into her as he gasped and ‘oohed’ in surprise and delight as she made quick work of his pants and underwear before she managed to seat herself onto him as he let his chair lean back and rest on a filing cabinet so they wouldn’t crash backwards and also so that Selena could ride him as hard as she wanted to without hurting anything as she opened up his silk dress shirt so that his chest and neck were bared to her before he yanked down her shirt and undid her bra so that her breasts, which had been pushed up to show her amazing cleavage before- were now bared to him in turn as he suckled as his hands went to her hips to guide her over him and when his other hand reached down to stroke her clit with practiced ease as he whispered some absolutely filthy things to her in French which he had discovered could get Selena all riled up and to hear and see and feel that was like a drug to him.

Selena could feel her orgasm approaching as her body and mind were in absolute bliss and to hear Ravus whisper, moan and growl in her ear in between kissing and licking and playfully biting every inch of skin he could reach as he drove up into her as hard as he could and rub her clit just right. Not too hard, not too fast, but as if he was delicately conjuring her soul through her pussy was the greatest pleasure she had ever known and she didn’t care what he was saying to her in French, but the way he said it, the way it rolled off of his very gifted tongue and the way he could enrapture her mind, body and soul so easily, as easy as he breathed and leave her so desperate for him, desperate for more. Just one more touch, one more kiss, one more thrust, one more profession of love, of promise, of adoration, everything. How she was his everything and how he was going to love her and cherish her for as long as he lived and she had the utmost faith in every word. And she knew that she was going to love him for the rest of hers. She didn’t care if he lost his fortune or the hospital or anything. She would keep him and he would keep her. And that would be all that mattered.

In rapid succession Selena came, her shuddering cry of bliss was the most perfect sound in Ravus’ ears as he smiled victoriously that he was able to give her the greatest pleasure possible before Ravus’ own face scrunched up as he came himself, a grunting, hissing moan. His cock throbbing but since his injections, there were no loads, other than an extra load of precum before they both collapsed in the chair as they held each other as Selena let her head rest on his shoulder as they recovered.

Selena traced random designs on his skin around his chest hair that was starting to fill in nicely along with more muscle mass that had started to build just in the last few months since he graduated highschool and gotten back from the most epic summer vacation. It was as if he was a late bloomer. All the bulky muscle he had always wanted was finally filling in the way he wanted it to and he was having to buy new suits and shirts because his old ones no longer fit him the way he wanted them to, but thankfully that glorious cock of his stayed the same, much to Selena’s utter and complete delight.

The only thing that hadn’t grown was thankfully his feet so that meant the man didn’t need to buy new shoes. Which was his own guilty pleasure and obsession, especially dress shoes. While they had gone cross country all summer, he and Luche would hit up all the thrift stores and speciality shops looking for old shoes to restore and when they had been in L.A. They had hit the mother load. All these places that had all the shoes from the old stars of hollywood, whether they became famous or infamous or never even made it on the map. But their very expensive and very good quality shoes were left behind. One shop in particular was run by a couple of older gentlemen that were so happy to see some younger guys were into this kind of thing that they gave them the deals of a lifetime and even Tredd and of course Ignis came along and between Ravus and Ignis, Luche and Tredd got quite the crash course education on shoes, in particular old dress shoes as the four of them practically bought the store out and had to ship out most of them back home because they wouldn't fit with their former travel plans. Ravus and Ignis were the way about shoes the same way some women were about fashion and purses.

Of course that wasn't the only "obsession" Ravus and Ignis had shared with Luche and Tredd, Ravus' mother and of course his grandparents were avid fountain pen collectors and when Sylva's parents had passed, they went over her parent's very, very extensive fountain pen collection that was in the thousands of pens large, Ravus insisted that about two dozen of them go directly to Selena so she could "impress" her more "financially affluent" clients she was starting to get as Sylva happily let those precious few go to Selena, then the rest were picked through by Sylva, Lunafreya who was also an avid fountain pen enthusiast as well as Ravus and Ignis who then coached Luche and Tredd of all people who showed an interest in what he called "rich people shit", just like jewels, yahts, jets, shoes and the like, which amused Sylva who humored him enough to go through what made a good fountain pen and what made different pens valuable and what the more "famous" or well known "name brands" were and what inks were best for which pens and corralating inks to the pens themselves as Luna did the same thing with Selena so that Ravus could coach Luche through the same thing too as the rest were divided evenly and "put away" so that they could become an "inheritance" for the next generation.

Meanwhile Ravus wasn’t the only one who had gone through some changes over the course of the summer and now fall, Selena too seemed to fill in quite nicely, she had gained some weight over the summer, her hips had filled out and her derriere had plumped out and her breasts had grown, filled in and rounded out and while she had gone up a few dress sizes, Ravus couldn’t be happier about the developments. Like she had transformed from lithe teen to full blown woman and he was all too happy to replace every piece of clothing in her wardrobe so that she was comfortable and could embrace her current body.

And with Selena landing what in her opinion was the dream job at Fosters as a junior designer and was currently designing all her friend’s houses as Oak Creek Estates under the supervision of a woman named Samantha Leeds, who had taken Selena under her wing and was showing her the ropes and helping get all the classes at the local college. Selena had had the hardest time understanding CAD but when she finally figured it out. She quickly excelled.

“So what’s going on?” Selena asked after they seemed to recover but were in no need to change their positions or state of partial undress.

“Something stupid in office politics.” Ravus huffed.

“Ok…” Selena urged.

“Some of the board members are getting greedy, in particular Mr. Greed, they look at how much Project Recovery is making them and they’re seeing dollar signs at the other pharma we produce.” Ravus revealed.

“But I thought your mom had a pretty good stance that when it came to life saving drugs like insulin and other medications like it- that you put a cap on all those so they’re affordable to everyone.” Selena frowned.

“She did, but the other board members see Luche and I coming onto the board and think they can get to us and pit us against mother or pit us against each other- thinking their greed is going to be contagious or something or that we’re too young to know what we’re talking about and too inexperienced to have valid opinions.” Ravus grumped before he kissed her forehead sweetly, grateful he could bare his heart and soul like this to her so freely.

“Well that’s not going to work right?” Selena said as she raised her head to fix him with a look.

"No, it's just frustrating to deal with until they retire, although I can’t imagine dealing with Roman or Ainsley is going to get any better, all I hear is ‘chip off the old block’ when Rob talks about them." Ravus shook his head.

"Is there any way we can get Mr. Greed to retire early? Get some peace before Roman and Ainsley come on board or is it not just Mr. Greed that’s giving you all the headaches?" Selena hoped.

"I wish it was just him. But it’s not. It just...comes with the territory. Besides if there was a way to make Mr. Greed and the others to retire early, I'm pretty sure my mother would have done it already. They've been thorns in her sides most of her life and they’re proving to be thorns in ours as well." Ravus mused as Selena frowned deeper.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s not your problem to fix, but thank you for listening.” Ravus thanked her gratefully as he held her comfortably in his arms. “And thank you for this, this was the best surprise.” He smiled appreciatively as he nuzzled her face with his.

“You’re welcome.” Selena smiled happily.

“Hey you wanna go out to dinner?” Ravus asked hopefully. “We could see if Lu and Ada wanted to join us?” He asked.

“Sure,” Selena nodded as she and Ravus worked on getting straightened up as Selena pulled her dress down a bit more so it was a bit more modest and pinned the top up to a much more modest height and by the time they got squared away and unlocked the door they saw Ada coming out of Luche’s office dressed similarly to Selena and Luche himself had the same love drunk smile Ravus was wearing.

“Hey,” Selena greeted as both Selena and Ada blushed before they looked pointedly at each other’s shoes then back up to each other before they both tried to stifle their giggles because they both knew exactly why the other was wearing those heels as they beamed knowingly at each other.

“Dinner?” Ravus asked as he self consciously smoothed his hair as Luche did the same as Luche gave Ada a questioning look and smiled when she eagerly nodded her head.

“Oh yeah.” Luche agreed before they all hopped into Ravus’ new Land Rover and drove to the restaurant that piqued their interest and hunger.

“So how’s the wedding planning going?” Ravus asked Luche while they looked at the menus.

“Good, still deciding on invitations, although we've narrowed it down to three different choices.” Luche answered.

“We did agree to use the same venue Sylva used when she got married.” Ada revealed.

“Yeah, that’s the same venue we decided on too.” Selena smiled happily.

“Do you have any ideas what dress you’d want?” Selena asked.

“Actually yeah.” Ada nodded as she scooted closer to Selena in the booth to show her the dresses she had found on Pintrist.

“Oooh, I like that one.” Selena agreed.

“It’s just going to be a challenge to find one that doesn’t drown me out. Because I’m so short and petite, but I don’t want to walk down the aisle in like 7 inch heels just to not trip over the dress.” Ada confessed as Ravus nearly lost it Luche’s grin as he had that ‘I wouldn’t mind’ kind of expression.

“Are you excited to go back to Kleinfelds?” Selena asked.

“Very much so, I’m already packed.” Ada confessed.

That weekend, the whole crew went back to Klinefelds for Ada to do her dress shopping. As Sylva made sure that Ada’s parents and Luche’s parents were in the middle couch while the boys made sure to keep Luche preoccupied while all the girls happily rallied around Ada as they all had their own ideas of what Ada should wear while Morgan got Sylva’s picks and other dresses into the room.

“Ok, this is Crowe’s pick.” Morgan said as she brought Ada out in the first dress.

“Aww,” they all awwed.

“You’re drowning in it though Love.” Ada’s mother noted as others kind of grimaced and nodded in agreement.

“So what do you love about this dress?”

“I love the bling, I love the tiered layers, it’s just a little too poofy.” Ada offered Morgan.

“Ok, so let’s try again, we’ll be right back.” Morgan offered the crew.

“Ok, so this is a mermaid, fit and flare,” Morgan announced as she brought Ada back out.

“It looks amazing, I just can’t really move because it’s so restrictive.” Ada realized as the rest of her family put in their 2 cents about it before she was back and tried even more, trying on her mom’s picks, Linda’s picks then finally getting to Sylva’s picks but Sylva made sure that Morgan didn’t tell Ada that they were her pick’s and instead urged Morgan to introduce them as her picks before sneaking one into Morgan’s hands that was brand new that had not been there when they had been there last.

Ada softly gasped when she saw it, it was perfect, it had the tiered layers but it also had lace and glitter and just a little bit of everything. It was perfect and when she put it on, she couldn’t help but cry. It was a soft, blushed ivory. It complemented her red hair and her skin tone gorgeously. She felt like a proper bride in this and she could see in her mind- so clearly- how Luche would probably cry tears of happiness if he saw her in this. This was it, this was the one.

“There’s that smile.” Morgan grinned victoriously as she looked at Ada in the mirror after she cinched the corset back closed and got it looking like Ada was born into this dress.

“This is it, even if all of them hate it, this is it.” Ada insisted.

“Well then let’s show them.” Morgan insisted.

Everyone could tell that Ada’s smile practically came from her toes, she was practically glowing with happiness as Sylva got choked up which caused Linda and Ada’s mom Amelia to start crying as all the girls started gasping and cooing before Morgan happily snagged an appropriate veil and put it on her and that’s when they were all practically sobbing.

“It’s perfect Love, absolutely perfect. It has those tiers that you love and the lace is so romantic.” Amelia cried as she squeezed her husband- Richard’s hand who was also getting choked up as they passed a box of tissues down the line.

“You look stunning Ada, really, just perfectly beautiful.” Linda praised as she had already made her peace with Ada being a daughter in law.

“And it still has enough sparkle and glitter to it, that even in low light, you’ll glitter like the jewel you are.” Sylva added.

“So, are you saying yes to the dress?” Morgan asked.

“Yes, I’m saying yes to this dress.” Ada confirmed happily before Amelia got up off the couch and hugged her daughter tightly before her dad hugged her tightly too along with her brother who had also been flown in for the event with his fiance.

A week later, Hazel and Sylva returned to Klinefelds as Sylva had flown out Hazel’s sister Mei and her mother Huan and her dad Tommy along with Titus' mother Helen and Titus’ sister Jenny in for the appointment. Helen and the rest of her family had been all too happy to welcome Hazel into the fold. Once Titus was thirty and then almost 40, Helen gave up on the idea that Titus would ever get married and settle down, especially when the rest of her children were giving her grandchildren at this point but it seemed she was too hasty when Titus finally met Hazel and seemed to get with the program and settle down “properly”.

Meanwhile Huan and Tommy were also over the moon that Hazel was finally settling down and even though Billy wasn’t wild about the age difference at first, the more he and Titus got to know each other, the better they got along, Tommy was happy that Titus made Hazel happy in addition to Titus’ character and stability and profession and Huan was so happy to learn that Titus was a good man, who had a house and was planning on building another with Hazel and when Titus and Hazel adopted Brutus who was Kona, Kahlua and Sasha’s sibling, while Tredd and Stella adopted Brutus’ brother King. To Huan- a grand-dog was close enough to a grandchild, for now. While she was always proud of Hazel for earning her own way though the world and earning enough to take care of them in their retirement, she had been on Hazel since she was in her twenties to have someone take care of her. And it seems Titus had finally come along and to do just that.

“So what are you looking for?” Meredith asked Hazel after everyone had been introduced.

“I’m looking for a very simple, not too many embellishments, comfortable, light weight wedding dress. Titus and I are getting married at the beach next May, right after school lets out, because he is highschool football coach. It’s going to be a very small, intimate wedding with just family and really close friends.” Hazel answered.

“Aww, that’s awesome, is there a price point we’re comfortable with?”

“Ten thousand.” Hazel answered.

“Ooh, more than enough to work with, well let’s go.” Meredith urged as she brought Hazel back into a dressing room to get changed before she went hunting for the perfect dress.

“Simple, light, comfortable.” Meredith echoed over and over again as she combed through the back room, her almost encyclopedic knowledge of the backroom to her aid as she went through all the dresses before she found several that would fit those criteria.

Charlotte came into the bridal shop, a giddy grin on her face as she came and “snuck up” on her family as Sylva turned her head and smiled at the newcomer.

“Surprise!” Charlotte announced to her family.

“Charlie?!” Tommy smiled happily as he got up and gathered up his daughter into his large arms. She may have been a wanted criminal and fugitive, but he was always happy to see her and to him, she would always be his "little Charlie".

“I thought you were overseas?” Tommy asked.

“And miss this? Nah, it’s Hazel’s first big day before the big big day, I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” Charlotte happily murmured into her dad’s chest before Tommy put his arm around his daughter’s shoulders and introduced her to Titus’ family who were completely oblivious as to Charlotte’s true identity as Charlotte sat next to Sylva.

“It’s nice to see you again. Different kind of exciting this time,” Sylva offered with a mischievous grin that Charlotte mirrored.

“I take it you didn’t get any kind of trouble from the last time we were in each other’s company.” Charlotte offered.

“Nope, not a peep, thank you.” Sylva reassured her.

“You’re welcome, this was wonderful, thanks for letting me know, when you get to know their wedding arrangements, forward them to this number, I doubt the groom would be comfortable with Gil and I coming but I want to send them a proper wedding gift that won't be on any kind of gift registry, at least domestically.” Charlotte nodded as she handed Sylva a slip of paper written in Mandarin as Sylva read it quickly, nodded and put it into her billfold just as Hazel came out in her first dress and stopped when she saw Charlotte.

“Charlie?” Hazel gasped in excitement as she saw her sister.

“Hey you, don’t you look beautiful.” Charlie greeted as she set her large, heavy purse on the seat and came over and embraced her sister.

“I didn’t think I would see you again.” Hazel admitted as she hugged her sister tight.

“Sylva invited me, hope you don’t mind.” Charlotte explained.

“Nope, not at all.” Hazel readily assured her sister.

“Is Gil here too?” Hazel asked.

“He’s doing business, as usual, plus I don’t think Dad would be cool and I know your fiance wouldn't be cool if Gil and I showed up to the wedding itself, so this is the best I can do and this is exposed enough without making things difficult or uncomfortable or "unsafe".” Charlotte excused.

“I get it, I'm still really happy to see you and that you're here. It means a lot, especially to Mom and Dad, and of course me as well.” Hazel nodded as Charlotte nodded in unison.

“So is this your dress?” Charlotte asked, changing the subject.

“This is just the first one, you came just in time.” Hazel answered.

“Well then let’s get to it.” Charlotte insisted as she returned to her seat.

“So this is dress number one. What do we think?” Meredith asked.

“It’s nice, I’m not in love with it, but it’s nice.” Hazel answered honestly.

“It makes you look like you’re wearing a tent.” Huan criticized as Helen and Jenny nearly choked on their spit and looked at Huan in alarm as Charlotte akept her snickering quiet enough to pass it off as a cough as Mei just rolled her eyes and complained to her mom in Mandarin that she was being too harsh.

“You don’t look like you’re wearing a tent, but the cut isn’t quite right. You need a more flattering shape to the fabric.” Charlotte offered.

“Agreed.” Sylva nodded.

“Well, that’s what first dresses are all about, finding what elements can work and what elements won’t.” Meredith explained before they tried on a few different picks as Charlotte looked around as did Sylva at the other dresses on display at the other dresses in the store.

“That one,” Charlotte and Sylva said at the same time once they both locked eyes on it and pointed to it.

“Well go get it then, bring it to her, it will mean more to her if you do.” Sylva encouraged before Charlotte got up and strutted across the floor to get the dress in question before she asked to see which room her sister was in before she came to the appropriate dressing room, a security guard shadowing her.

“Try this one.” Charlotte suggested as she handed the dress over to her sister as Hazel gasped softly when she saw it before Charlotte saw her way out and went back to the group and waived the security guard back a little farther so his presence was not felt by everyone else.

“And?” Sylva prodded.

“She had the gasp and the smile.” Charlotte answered as she checked her phone.

“Please let this be the one, I’m running out of time.” Charlotte whispered as she looked at the time on her phone and read the messages her henchmen were sending her as they stood guard a short distance away as her driver himself was scanning the police channels as Gil’s other men were monitoring the area.

Hazel came out a short time later, wearing a smile that shamed the sun, moon and stars as everyone else gasped and oohed and awed.

“Now that’s the dress, you look exquisite Hazel.” Huan finally complimented as Charlotte and Sylva gave each other a meaningful smile as Hazel nearly burst into tears as Jenny and Helen were already crying too.

“It’s perfect, but still incomplete.” Hazel began as she stood up and pulled a special box from her bag and took out a set of jade jewelry and put it on Hazel as Huan and Mei cooed and practically giggled as they put it on her as Charlotte gave Hazel a special sachet as well before Charlotte’s phone chimed.

“Do you have to go?” Hazel asked as Charlotte’s eyes watered as she tried to put on a brave, happy smile but nodded yes.

“Thank you for coming and for all of this. Thank you for being my sister. I love you so much.” Hazel thanked her as the two hugged before Charlotte got to hug every member of her family as Sylva got to get a quick picture of them all together, both with Charlotte’s phone as well as other members of her family so that each one would have a picture of this moment to treasure forever before the Henchmen came over and cleared their throats to get Charlotte’s attention as Charlotte hugged her parents, specifically her dad one last time.

“I have to go, I love you.” Charlotte bid her family before she used her handkerchief to dry her eyes and left with the henchmen as her driver was already anxiously out front, waiting to take his Empress back to a safer, less ‘exposed’ space.

“How come she couldn’t stay?” Helen asked.

“She’s a very busy woman. She lives half a world away and she probably had to fly back pretty soon, and security at the airports is a nightmare.” Sylva delicately excused as she waived it off.

“But now that we found the dress and the veil and obviously the jewelry. Let’s get settled up and get dinner shall we?” Sylva encouraged with a bright happy smile.

When Sylva came back home from flying and taking care of all the other guests, she came home to see all of her kids and their fiances and their friends as they had made a really nice dinner for everyone as Pelna and Yasmine, Gladio and Pashmina, Prompto and Cindy, Luche and Ada, Libertus and Crowe and Craig and Iris were on their way as well as Luche’s family and Ada’s family.

“Hey! So how did it go?” Luna asked as she gave her mom a big hug.

“Good, Charlotte came and surprised Hazel and the family.” Sylva revealed which caused everyone to freeze and look at each other worriedly.

“Charlotte Stevens?” Luna asked, taken aback by the news.

“Oh don’t look so surprised, when Charlotte and Gil used the jet they left a single phone number for the pilot to give to me and said I get to use it once. And I knew Charlotte wouldn’t want to miss the milestone in Hazel’s life because Charlotte knows she probably won't be welcome at the wedding since Cor is one of Titus' groomsmen, so I used it and told Charlotte the plan and she was very grateful for the invitation since no one else in her family knew how to get a hold of her to tell her. Besides, Titus’ family was blissfully ignorant of who she really was and Hazel’s family got to have a nice little reunion within the realitive safety confine of a public space and Charlotte got to see Hazel in her wedding dress as a good sister should. It was fine, I mean she had to be carrying four guns on her and who knows how many knives on her person, she had to have two guns in her outfit and at least another two in her purse and her four henchmen were armed to the teeth as well and she could only stay for about an hour but Hazel found the dress and everyone gave it their stamp of approval and Charlotte gifted Hazel some really pretty jade jewelry which is customary for a Chinese bride to receive which honored that part of her heritage and traditions, which was really nice, it was a lovely time.” Sylva waived off as she got the picture and showed everyone the family picture she took.

“She has got to have the biggest balls in the world.” Tredd noted, impressed when he saw the picture.

“She’s got you beat, that’s for sure.” Stella teased.

“She’s got everyone beat.” Sylva laughed.

“So is this everyone or are more coming?” Sylva asked.

“More are coming.” Luna reported.

“How many more?” Sylva asked before her doorbell rang and slowly then all at once, everyone came as everyone started pulling all the components at the table, setting it up for a large extended friends and family meal before Luche and Ada came in last, both of them having anxious smiles on their faces.

“Is everything ok?” Sylva asked Luche as she tried to keep her knowing smile to a minimum.

“Yeah, yeah, everythings great.” Luche reassured her.

“You sure?” Sylva asked as she looked from Luche to Ada who had the same anxious smile on her face.

“Ok, so we have some news and we wanted everyone to be around to make the announcement and we don’t exactly know how it’s going to be received.” Luche hinted.

“If it’s what I think it is, I will do my best to lead the way in accepting the announcement with all the happiness and joy that such an announcement garners. But I also want to be the first to offer my congratulations.” Sylva reassured them both.

“Thank you.” Luche and Ada breathed in relief.

“Come on, dinner is getting cold.” Sylva encouraged them before they all came into the kitchen where everyone was getting something to drink with their dinner.

“So Luche and I chose wedding invitations!” Ada happily announced as she handed every couple an invitation as well as one to her parents and one to Luche’s parents as well.

“Wait, I thought we agreed on May 18th, this is in December..only three months, it’s the weekend before Nyx and Luna’s wedding?” Linda pointed out.

“Well that brings us to announcement number two. We’re pregnant, or rather Ada is.” Luche announced as there was just a hint of nervousness to his excitement as Sylva was the first to squeal, almost an excited scream in delight, only half a second before Crowe did which got everyone else to cheer joyfully as Sylva came over and hugged them both and offered her first “official” congratulations which got Linda and Ada’s mother Amelia and Linda to get over their initial shock and plaster on happy smiles and congratulate them before Ada was swarmed by the girls with hugs and congrats as the first ultrasound pictures were passed around that she had gotten the day before.

“So how far along are you?” Sylva asked.

“Ten weeks.” Ada announced as Tredd, Nyx and Ravus shared a rather knowing smile, but no money was passed between the three because Tredd and Ravus had “seen it” when Sylva had as well. Crowe especially was super happy because she wasn’t the only one pregnant anymore as her own little baby bump had seemed to pop out since her own wedding.

“Baby bump!” Crowe happily cheered as she gently bumped her little baby bump into Ada’s belly which got Ada to giggle as the two hugged tightly and couldn’t stop laughing.

“Congratulations man!” Libertus congratulated Luche as he hugged him super tightly.

“Thanks.” Luche laughed into the hug before he got more congratulations from everyone else as even Tredd was, for once, gracious.

“So what are you hoping for?” Tredd asked.

“A healthy baby and a non complicated delivery.” Luche answered honestly.

“Good. Ok, everyone listen up! Taking bets on due dates and gender, where’s a white board?” Tredd suddenly turned, raising his voice to shout over everyone as he received a mixture of laughter and groans from some of the adults as Sylva laughed the hardest as Tredd took the whiteboard off the fridge and the little marker and erased all the important reminders after taking a pic of what was on it so none of it would be lost.

“Ok so that technically puts Crowe five months ahead of Ada so if gestation is 40 weeks, that’s basically ten months and Ada is already ten of those 38-40 weeks in- that puts us at...holy shit you’re due on your original wedding date- May 18th. OK, So, taking bets on three day spreads May 18th, 19th and 20th? Any takers?” Tredd continued undeterred.

“You asshole, I announce my fiance is pregnant and you immediately turn it into a bet?” Luche laughed, not surprised by his friend’s behavior, but was hoping he would have at least five minutes before Tredd turned into “The Lovable Douche Asshole”, the lovable part was questionable though most of the time.

“May 12th through the 15th, and a boy and the winner gets bragging rights but all the money and proceeds go to Luche and Ada.” Sylva said as she fished several hundred dollar bills out of her wallet and handed them to Ada before discretely handing Tredd another one too.

“Sweet, first better, Sylva Caelum, May 12th through the 15th and a boy.” Tredd repeated as he wrote that down and put a note in his phone.

“Oh what the hell. Twenty quid on the 16th-19th and I want a granddaughter so I’m betting on a girl.” Amelia offered as she handed Luche and Ada the money with a laugh of her own.

“May 9th-12th, a boy.” Ignis said as he handed Luche a few hundred dollars as well.

“May 19 through the 21st and a boy as well.” Luna giggled as she handed the couple a few hundred dollars too.

“May 14th through the 17th, boy as well.” Ravus added as he gave Luche most of the money in his wallet.

“Amelia it looks like if it is a girl, you’re getting amazing odds, five to one, that’s pretty awesome.” Tredd grinned at Amelia.

“Oh hell, I say May 21st through the 24th, also a girl.” Linda added as she gave Luche and Ada some money too as soon Luche and Ada were holding wads of cash and laughing as their friends were giving them money as Tredd was taking “bets” from everyone as everyone joined in on this impromptu gamble.

“Ok, so this isn’t so bad.” Ada had to confess to Luche as they tried to organize their “winnings” into a “gift bag” that Sylva had on hand before they all sat down to eat dinner as Luche nodded his agreement to that. That had gone way better than he was fearing as Selena, Stella and Luna all looked at their fiances with thinly veiled suspicion as they were looking at each other knowingly as they also noticed that Sylva also seemed particularly smug as they all happily enjoyed a very nice friends and family dinner as they discussed baby shower ideas as well as when to plan all the bridal showers and such and made a new, accelerated timeline.

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ellewritesathing · 3 years

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Infernal VII

Summary: In your sleepy little town of Greendale, nothing ever slept for long. And ever since October, everything felt like it was waking up. Everything except for you, that is. One teensy trip to Hell (and an infuriatingly cute guy) later and suddenly you felt wide awake.

Word-count: 3.3k+

Masterlist Prev. | Part 7

A/N: we’re back witches

The Shores of Sorrow was never meant to be a peaceful place. It was perfectly designed to torture lost souls for eternity, to damn them to an existence where they are forgotten by all except the high tides that mercilessly embraced them. Perfectly designed for torment, and yet you felt nothing but peace as the waves washed over your feet and the sun clung to the horizon … that is, until you sensed the demon behind you.

With a quick exhale, you summoned the Harpe and let it guide your muscles to cut down your attacker as you turned. Though it had been clumsy and cumbersome when Caliban had first given it to you, you’d grown used to the weight of the sword and learned the necessity of the sickle. The Harpe was an extension of yourself.

“Careful, love.” Caliban wielded his smile as dangerously as you wielded the Harpe. He’d jumped out of the way of your blow, but his The Doors t-shirt was too slow. The Harpe tore through the right side of his shirt, barely missing his skin. “You could hurt someone like that.”

Tilting your head to the side and leveling your sword at him, you said, “That’s kind of the point, babe. Sorry about your shirt though.”

Caliban looked at the Harpe for a moment before smiling to himself and stepping backward. Kneeling down and sinking his hands into the sand, he said, “I think it suits me better this way, don’t you?” He rose with twin obsidian daggers.

“I think it would look a lot better if you weren’t threatening me.”

“I’m not threatening you. I’d like to see what those malignants have taught you.”

“Oh, would you now?”

Grinning, Caliban twirled the daggers and struck out. He was fast, but you’d been trained to be faster.

You pulled the Harpe in to block the dagger headed for your chest and swiped to knock it to one side. Caliban turned into the movement so as not to lose the blade. He circled you with a dangerous smile, searching for a weak spot. You knew he’d found one when he tossed one of the daggers in the air and caught it with an overhand grip. Yet his determination still surprised you when he lunged and aimed a strike at your side.

Dropping the Harpe, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him closer - ignoring the stinging in your side to make a play for the other dagger. Caliban laughed at the clumsy attempt until you kneed him in the gut.

Twisting out of his hold, you summoned the Harpe and readied yourself for the next attack. For a while, Caliban moved in insufferable silence, but soon he started throwing witticisms and critiques your way as well. As distracting as the words were, they kept you from overthinking. Your moves were smoother, hits were harder, and strikes quicker. Still, you were restrained; no matter how easy it would have been to lean into the Harpe’s viciousness, you couldn’t risk hurting Caliban.

The sparring only stopped once you’d knocked each other to the ground, a dagger pressed to your ribcage and the Harpe at Caliban’s throat. You were frozen, the never-setting sun washing his features in pale pink light and contrasting the flecks of gold in his eye. He smiled.

“If this were a real fight-” he pulled the dagger back to twirl around his index finger before throwing it into the sand, “I would have cut out your heart by now.”

“If this were a real fight-” you leaned down slightly, applying ever so much more pressure to the Harpe “-I would have summoned Hellfire in your lungs and watched you burn alive by now.”

With a dangerous smile of your own, you pulled the Harpe back and let it vanish as you rolled over to a seat. The sun hung ambivalently on the horizon, blanketed in clouds. With the water slowly washing the shore, you could almost forget the souls of the damned drowning further out to sea.

As you sighed, Caliban rolled on his side to face you, head cradled in his hand. He touched your elbow and ran his index finger along your arm as he said, “Summoning Hellfire is new. Last week you just threatened to stop my heart.”

Truth be told, you couldn’t have stopped his heart even if you wanted you. You’d learned to master many of the gifts Lilith had given you, but telekinesis always gave you a nasty headache. “Keeping track of my powers in case I’ll follow through one of these days?” you asked, turning to him with an easy smile. You reached over and pushed some of his hair behind his ear.

Catching your hand with his, Caliban said, “Not at all.” Carefully, deliberately, he ran his thumb across the outside of your hand, connecting the scars scattered along your skin. “I won’t mind if you do, but I only ask in a vain attempt to determine when Lilith will be satisfied with your training.”

You choked out a laugh. “Lilith is never going to be satisfied with my training.” Rolling your eyes, you moved from your seat to lie in the sand. You stared at the clouds ahead, darker than you’d ever seen in Hell. “Every time I get the hang of one ability, she comes up with some fresh punishment. I’m hoping she’ll chill out once my replacement is born.”

Caliban was quiet. He looked at you with the same curious, indecipherable expression he’d used when you met on the Shores of Sorrow; jaw clenched, mouth barely upturned, and eyes searching. You asked what he was searching for.

“I was wondering where exactly I fit in the grand plan,” he said.

“Right next to me?” He didn’t seem convinced. You reached for his hand again. “Honestly, I don’t know where I fit into the plan either, but I do know they’re showing all the Alien movies at the Paramount this Friday. Maybe you could-”

A drop of rain landed on your face, but when you wiped it away, your hand was smeared black. You bolted upright, and the world around you shook.

“Caliban, what’s happening?”

“Someone’s trying to wake you, but you have to be careful-”

Electricity cracked through your skull, the pain so overwhelming that you didn’t register the tightness in your chest at first. Every muscle in your body ached, cramping from the sudden tension. You’d only experienced this kind of pain your first time using dream manipulation, when Lilith purposely pulled you out too suddenly to teach you the dangers of the waking world.

Lilith wasn’t the one who woke you this time. The white spots faded from your vision to give way to your dad, frantic and shaking you. By the time your hearing came back, he'd moved to the window. He rocked on his heels as he peered between your curtains. His words were incomprehensible.

“Dad, what’s wrong?”

Your dad turned his whole body to look at you. He blinked twice, slowly, before saying, “Oh, good. You’re awake. All the lights are out.”

Gingerly, you tested your muscles before trying to sit up. Everything still hurt, but you could move. “Did you try messing with the breaker?”

“I was an English major,” he told you seriously.

You rolled your eyes, thankful that he was at least lucid enough to crack a joke. He’d gotten better when Lilith was still coming around, but she stopped visiting almost as soon as she started. “I’ll go see if it’s affecting anyone else or just us.”

Crawling out of bed, you waited for the world to come into focus before making your way through the house to the breaker in the garage. You were just about to open the door when the toaster dinged behind you. It was working perfectly. The fridge was cool inside, even if the light wasn’t working. The only flaw you could find with any of the appliances you checked was the lack of light.

With a shudder, you told your dad that you were going to Sabrina’s.

He’d seemed completely himself since you woke up, but now he looked at you with a glassy expression that you knew all too well. Instead of telling you to be careful or that he’d see you soon or that he loved you, he said, “The instruments of darkness tell us truths.”

“Right,” you said with a sigh. You grabbed your jacket from the back of the chair. “I’ll keep that mind.”

---

One thing that you never understood about the Spellmans was that they never locked their doors. You understood now that a lock couldn’t keep out the threats they faced and there was no need to keep out their friends, but you still smiled to yourself as you let yourself in through the backdoor. Once inside, you found Sabrina, Ambrose, Nick, and Prudence huddled around the breakfast table as Ambrose warned them against something he called the eldritch terrors.

He told them to imagine a world without light, just perpetual darkness. Chaos would follow, and eventually so would death. You shuddered at the dark clouds in your dreams. “Worse comes to worst,” he said, “We cannot allow the darkness to escape Greendale.”

Prudence promised to work with the coven to seal Greendale’s borders as Nick offered to work with the Fright Club to contain the miners. Sabrina and Ambrose would work to disperse the darkness. None of them sounded very hopeful.

You took a step forward and tried to sound braver than you felt. “I can help.”

“Okay, sure,” Sabrina said, nodding at Ambrose over her shoulder. If she was surprised to see you after lurking in the corner of her kitchen, she didn’t say anything about it. “You can help Nick look for a spell to stop the miners.”

“No, Brina, that’s not what I meant.” Taking a deep breath, you held out your hand, palm up to the sky. You summoned the Hellfire and let the dark paint the flames and your eyes black. “I can help.”

There was only one time in your life that you’d ever left Sabrina Spellman at a loss for words: you were nine years old and Billy was testing the limits of the school’s zero-tolerance bullying, Sabrina was using her words the way Aunt Hilda had told her to, and you used your push-kick the way your dad had told you to. The speechless that overcame her now, however, was a different breed. When you were young, it had been a kind of admiration; now, it was a kind of betrayal. The quiet of a broken promise.

While Sabrina was still processing how her best friend could summon Hellfire, Prudence leaned in closer. She tilted her head as she took you in, intrigued by you for the first time since you’d met her. Even as Nick dragged her out, she kept her eye on you like a cat watches a mouse. Just before she disappeared, she winked at you.

You’d been so caught up in the whirlwind that is Prudence Blackwood that you didn’t notice Sabrina’s recovery and Ambrose’s diatribe. She pointed out that even if you could keep the darkness at bay long enough for her to create light, her powers wouldn’t be enough. Ambrose argued that the consequences of her suggestion would be cataclysmic.

“Aren’t we facing something cataclysmic?” she asked.

Ambrose sighed. Sabrina, begrudgingly, had made a fair point. “How do we go about this? No one other than myself can see the two of you together.”

“Uh, hi?” You stepped forward carefully. “Could one of you please explain what’s going on?”

Sabrina looked at Ambrose uncertainly. He nodded - after rolling his eyes - and she took a deep breath. “Remember when I gave up being Queen of Hell?”

“Yeah…”

“I didn’t really do that. I broke a time loop and created another version of myself so that I, Sabrina Spellman, could have this life and she, Sabrina Morningstar, could continue being Queen of Hell.”

“Damning the rest of us to a universe that could potentially fold in on itself in the process,” Ambrose finished.

“Oh.” You couldn’t say that you weren’t surprised that there were two Sabrinas - it didn’t make sense for Caliban to tell you stories about Sabrina advocating for reforms in Hell when you’d seen in her homeroom that same morning stressing about a trig midterm - but you were surprised she’d managed to keep it a secret so long. “This explains why you were muttering about time paradoxes when we were researching the fairy circles outside the Academy,” you said to Ambrose.

All Ambrose could do was choke out a laugh and shake his head. “Yes, Scout, that is why I was muttering about time paradoxes and why I will die prematurely,” he said, turning on his heel to focus on Sabrina. “Get Sabrina Morningstar, keep contact to a minimum, and we will meet you both at the mines.”

“Got it!” With a grin, Sabrina disappeared to prepare a glamor.

Ambrose stared at her, stunned, before saying, “I think she’s actually enjoying this.”

“What’s not to enjoy?” you asked. You laughed at Ambrose’s outrage over your joke and told him you’d meet him at the mines. There was one thing you had to do before you took on the eldritch darkness.

Ambrose didn’t ask any questions; he just told you to be back as soon as possible.

Luckily for you, teleporting to Hell took almost no time at all. The only reason it took you so long to get back to the mines was that it was nearly impossible for both Lilith and Caliban to slip away from the Courts unnoticed. If getting them in a room together was nearly impossible, then getting them not to tear one another’s throats out required a miracle.

It seemed the only thing the two of them could agree on was that it was too dangerous for you to go into the darkness alone.

“I won’t be alone,” you said for the umpteenth time. Careful not to mention the other Sabrina, you explained, “I’ll have all the Spellmans with me. All I’m asking from you is …” What exactly were you asking from them? Help? Forgiveness?

Lilith rolled her eyes. “While the Spellmans may have an uncanny ability to vanquish their foes, I severely doubt their ability to ward off one of the eldritch terrors. Especially without their resident Morningstar.”

“And what exactly are you suggesting we do, Lilith?” Caliban asked. He said her name as if it were a poison. He used the same steely voice to talk to her that he used when he challenged her claim to the throne, even if he paired it with a smile in your presence.

Lilith simmered, pulling her lips into a tight smile. Some part of her, you thought, enjoyed the fact that Caliban was defiant, but you knew that an even larger part of her disliked others doubting her. Turning to you, she said, “No one other than the three of us can know about your claim to Hell. I cannot help you face the darkness, but if we bind our powers together, you may have a chance of surviving it on your own.”

“Even with your power, how would I even go about fighting something like this?” you asked. “I can’t make light.”

“You don’t need to,” Lilith said. “You can feed on the dark, acknowledge it as yours, and draw power from it.”

Caliban doused the fire building in your veins with water as he stepped forward. “The effects of absorbing that much darkness could be deadly.”

“So is doing nothing,” Lilith said. She tilted her head up to him and narrowed her eyes. “So, Prince of Clay, unless you have any better ideas, I suggest we get a move on before the eldritch dark ends us all.”

---

You weren’t sure what to expect from the other Sabrina. You’d supposed they would be the same as Wardwell and Lilith: they’d share a face and be impossibly different from one another, but that wasn’t the case. Sabrina Morningstar was an exact double of Sabrina Spellman; if anything, she seemed to be a more hopeful version of your best friend, despite her extended stay in Hell.

“I see what you mean about the energy down here,” she mused, looking ahead to where the Darkness lay. “It’s … evil. And old. I feel terrible.”

The Darkness didn’t feel evil to you. It felt sad, bottomless, and empty, but not evil.

“And that will only get worse once you’re inside,” Ambrose said. He tore his eyes away from the Darkness. “Prolonged and acute exposure to the Darkness is lethal. Death by despair.” He sighed. “So who’s first?”

Sabrina Morningstar shifted next to you. “Me.”

She squeezed your hand before letting go to pick up the giant lightbulb at her feet. She threw you a trademarked Sabrina smile before disappearing into the Darkness. Even in the pit of despair, there was a light in her that seemed utterly unable to be snuffed out.

You took a deep breath, shook every other thought out of your head, and focused on the dark. The Dark wasn’t evil, it wasn’t cold. It was pulling faces over a flashlight under the covers with Roz, Theo, and Sabrina. It was Tommy teaching you and Harvey about astronomy through a cracked telescope. It was warm, and sweet, and deeply, intrinsically sad.

The Darkness filled every cell of your being, replaying every birthday you spent wishing that your mother had loved you enough to stay, echoing every degrading word school bullies had said to you. It was smothering.

Sabrina stood right next to you, but her voice was barely audible. “Something’s wrong, Ambrose. The- the light’s fading.”

“I’m afraid so, cos,” Ambrose said.

You fought to pull yourself out of the Darkness, but it was like shedding a second skin. The Darkness felt like a part of you, more you than yourself.

The instruments of darkness tell us truths.

Breathing in, you opened your eyes and steadied yourself. The Darkness was a part of you, maybe the truest piece of you, but that’s all it was: one part of you, one version of the truth. You reached for Sabrina’s hand and forced a smile.

“Let’s go help her.”

Sabrina stepped into the Darkness first, but then she froze. She couldn’t feel the energy in the dark like you. Carefully, you led her through the Dark until you found Sabrina Morningstar, Darkness seeping out her nose and eyes. She was crying, hope snuffed out.

Hope, it turned out, took the form of Sabrina Spellman. She picked the pieces of Sabrina Morningstar off the floor and told her that they could face the Darkness, and anything else that came their way, together. And maybe with a little help, you added, as you knelt with them.

Taking their hands in yours, you drew the Darkness out of their hearts. While Sabrina Spellman hadn’t let very much in, Sabrina Morningstar had worn her heart on her sleeve. She felt every emotion the Darkness threw at her with full force and let her shattered past cut her open. Taking her Darkness was one of the hardest things you’ve ever done, but it was worth it to see the two of them smile over a lightbulb filled with Absolute Darkness.

Ambrose was a wreck when you found him again. He looked ready to cry at the sight of you. “Congratulations! Unbelievably, the three of you have managed to do what is nearly impossible: you trapped an eldritch terror.”

“We did it,” the Sabrina’s said, each squeezing one of your hands.

“We should get that lightbulb somewhere safe,” Ambrose said. He took another shaky breath and shook his head as Sabrina Morningstar scooped the Darkness up and started wading through the mines. “I can’t believe that actually worked.”

“Yeah,” you said softly, watching them disappear down the tunnel. Lifting a hand to wipe your nose, you saw the familiar sticky Darkness painting your fingertips. “Neither can I.”

Tagged: @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e @miss–moose @marrypuffsstuff @harryscarolinaa @igorsbby @foji2000 @hxlalokidottir @artaxerxesthegreat @thxmagic @strawberriesandknives @xealia @hotmessindisguise @acciomaximoff @reheated-coffee @shelby-x @perseny-blog @millie-753 @luneerius @shizzybarnaclee @lettherebelovex @throughparisallthroughrome @ietss @thebookwormlife @mechanicalanimalz @mariamermaid @nqbmf @caliban-is-my-girl @shephard17895 @andie-kathleen @clockworks-world-to-fandoms @luquincy @marina468 @olivia-west-allen @drrramaaaqweeen @roxytheimmortal @blondeeee-e @piensa-bonito @supportstudies

#caos #caos rewrite #Caliban #Infernal #chilling adventures of sabrina #caliban x reader #caliban imagine

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stilloutofmyvulcanmind · 3 years

Text

Light From The Shadow Part 3

Fandom: The Lord of the Rings

Pairing: Aragorn /Reader

Characters: Reader, Aragorn, Gandalf, Elrond

Word Count: 1785

Warning: Talk of death and torture

Author’s Note: Heyyyyy anyone remember this? It’s been a hot two years minute, right? But I was re-reading the first two parts, and it inspired me, so here it is, part 3 at long last! I hope there are people out there who are still interested, and if you want to see the rest, let me know!

Cath up here: Part 1 Part 2

The sound of footsteps was familiar to you by now. It was easy to tell who was approaching your cell, and even what their intentions were. Usually, it was soldiers bringing meals and seething insults. Occasionally it was Mithrandir, trying to prise words of your past from you. The Elf Lord Elrond had visited once, but he had done nothing other than stare at you with intensity for several hours. It was none of them who approached now. No, the footsteps belonged to Isildur’s Heir, Aragorn. He had appeared often enough over the last few weeks, sitting outside your cell and regaling you of tales of this ‘Y/N’ he still seemed to believe you were. The things he said meant nothing, the lands, and people he described calling forth no memories or thoughts of emotion. They were strangers to your mind, and despite your constant reaffirmations of that, Aragorn refused to give in or even stop.

He came into view in front of you, wearing a simple green tunic and brown slacks, looking nothing like the King he now was, except for the sword that hung from his belt. That was something he did not usually have. He stopped, looking down to where you sat on your thin bed. “What is your name?”

It was the same question he always asked, still clinging to the hope you would suddenly start believing you were someone you weren’t. “My name is Asgareth, as it always has been, and always will be.”

Aragorn sighed, standing in silence as he watched you for a few moments longer. “It is clear now that my words are of no use here. Whatever is preventing you from remembering the person you truly are is stronger than any tale of times gone by,” he said, taking the key he held in his hand and using it to unlock the cell door.

Your eyes travelled back to his blade as he stepped inside, wondering if he was finally going to kill you and end this tedium. But then he knelt down in front of you and swiftly released the shackle that sat around your ankle. The action took by such surprise that you found no chance to attack before he stood back in front of you, grasping the chain that bound your wrists together.

“What are you doing?” You asked, watching him closely. “If this is to be some drawn-out execution, do not bother. Kill me now and end this hell.”

“No. I have not yet given up on you, Y/N. Words alone cannot bring you back, so perhaps something physical will. Come.” Tugging on the chain, Aragorn pulled you forward, leaving you with no choice other than to follow him.

Your steps echoed quietly off the stone as he led you past the other cells and upon out of the dungeon. You did not fail to miss the looks you received from the guards that lined the halls, or the way their fingers twitched on the hilt of their blades. Each and every one would rather slay you on sight than see you walk along the halls they’d fought to protect. You kept your head up high, meeting the gaze of every man who dated meet yours. They all looked away first.

It was out onto an open training space Aragorn brought you. High over the city with only one door. You smiled. Despite his honeyed words, it was clear Aragorn did not trust you. There were no other soldiers in the area, but Mithrandir and Elrond stood to one side, watching you both.

They neither approached or spoke as Aragorn led you to a table in the center of the room. On it lay three weapons. A dagger, a blade, and a bow. Finely crafted, they were both unknown to you yet somehow familiar, as though you’d once seen them long ago.

“These once belonged to you,” Aragorn said. “We recovered them from Angmar after your disappearance, and I made sure to always keep them well in your memory.”

Aragorn was watching you, clearly waiting to see if you had some sort of reaction. “These cannot be mine. I have only ever fought with a blade.”

“You are one of the best bowmen I have ever seen. Your skill matched that of the elves.”

You looked back at the bow, long and sleek with a perfect curve. The wood was dark and obviously well cared for. Something deep inside you itched to touch it. “You are mistaken. I have never touched a bow.”

“Then try it now.” Aragorn moved swiftly and you found the shackles around your wrists falling free.

“Aragorn!” Elrond was immediately moving forwards but halted when Aragorn raised a hand.

“She will not harm me, my lord. I know it.”

Neither Elrond nor Mithrandir seemed convinced, and you could see they were prepared to move swiftly should you make the slightest wrong move. It was tempting. You eyed the hilt of the blade. Perhaps you could end Aragorn’s life before they retaliated. You would die, yes, but it would be worth it.

You reached for it.

Instead, your hand closed around the bow.

It was a light but sturdy weight in your hand as you ran the fingers of the other over the wood. You knew you had never picked up a bow before, but why did it feel so right? Like greeting an old friend?

“Try,” Aragorn said again, offering you an arrow as he pointed towards a target at the end of the room.

He was handing you his death on a platter. Even with no experience, you could use the bow to kill him at such a close range. It would be easy. Possibly the easiest death you’d ever earned.

You found yourself sliding the arrow into place on instinct, the bow singing as you released it towards the target. The arrow struck the middle.

Next to you, Aragorn smiled. “I knew there was a part of you trapped inside somewhere. I should have thought of this sooner.”

The bow clattered as you dropped it to the ground, taking a step back from it. “I do not know what magic this is, but I will not fall for it! I am Asgareth! And I serve the true Lord Sauron! As I always have and always will! Your cheap tricks will not convince me otherwise!"

"Y/N-"

"No!” You dived for the sword, but Aragorn was quicker. He grabbed you, his hold on you secure as he brought you to your knees.

“Remember!"

"Never!” You fought him, but he won out and you found yourself shackled once more. “Kill me!"

"I will not."

Aragorn took the chain back into his hands and led you silently back to your cell. He stood inside it with you still, simply watching. He looked sad you noticed. Why did some deep part of you twist at that revelation?

"I had not planned on revealing this to you yet. I feared it might be too much to learn in your current state, but I see now that I have no other choice. If this does not bring you back to me, then nothing shall.” Aragorn reached under his shirt and pulled a silver chain over his head. Hanging in the middle was a ring with an emerald stone set in the centre. Aragorn removed it and held it up for you to see better. “Do you know it?"

"No.”

He sighed. “It belonged to my Mother. A gift from my Father when they became betrothed. I in turn presented it to you when you agreed to marry me.”

Marry? No. You could never have been betrothed to this…this ranger. It was impossible. “You are saying-"

"We loved one another.”

You shook your head. “Now I know that you trick me for there is no path I would ever walk that could possibly lead to me loving the likes of you.”

Aragorn had the strength of will not to flinch, but you saw the pain in his eyes at your words. “You know not what you say.” He stepped closer, taking your hand in his and refusing to let go when you jerked back. “Wear it. Remember,” he whispered, slipping the ring onto your finger. It was a perfect fit. “Remember.”

Then he was gone and the cell door locked once more.

“I cannot,” you said.

“You must. You must, my love.”

He left you then, and you slid to the floor, back pressed against the cold wall. You stared down at the green gem gleaming up at you, the weight of it on your finger feeling both foreign and disturbingly familiar. What he said was impossible. It had to be. Marriage? Love? They were things not designed for you. Your only purpose was to serve. Your only goal to win battles. What Aragorn suggested was so much more. More than what you were. More than you deserved.

Your head hurt. A splitting pain seared across your forehead. The candlelight was too bright. The echo of footsteps and the incessant drip of water too loud. Scrunching your eyes closed, you placed your hands over your ears to drown it all out.

The pain got worse.

It was too much.

Images flashed behind your eyes.

Fighting a man so much larger than yourself with a wooden sword. You knocked his from his hand and he cheered, picking you up and swinging you through the air. You were laughing.

The same man, but now a woman joined him. They smiled as they handed you a small bow.

Meeting a young man with kind eyes and a handsome face. He smiled at you when your arrow split through his own.

Travelling with him. You crossed mountains and great plains and forests together. Fought back to back. Tended to each other’s wounds.

Sitting on a high hill under the stars. The way he looked at you made your heart flutter. He asked you a question. You laughed and said yes. He presented you with the most beautiful ring you’d ever seen, the emerald glittering in the moonlight.

A long journey to a dark land. Fear filling the air. An attack. Screams.

A cell.

Dark. Alone. Pain.

A figure.

Your Lord.

No.

Not your lord. Monster. Evil. Enemy.

You screamed as the pain in your head worsened, fingers tangling in your hair and pulling. You screamed and screamed unable to stop. More memories. More pain.

“Y/N!"

Someone took you in their arms, strong and secure. Safe. You prised your eyes open, looking up at his face through blurred vision. It had been so many years. Too long. Your betrothed. Your love.

"Aragorn.”

#aragorn x reader #aragorn fanfiction #aragorn son of arathorn #aragorn son of arathorn x reader #the lord of the rings fanfiction #lotr #The Lord of the Rings

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boldlyanxious · 4 years

Text

Remember when

Part 7: Control

RW masterlist

Tim looked up as Dick walked up. The coffee and boxed cupcake could be considered a gift but Tim recognized the logo. It Dick's way of letting him know that they found his secret place.

"Did you know that even if you turn off the tracking on your phone, laptop, and other electronics that you can still be found by the gps on your motorcycle?"

"So you tracked me to find out where I've been working away from the office?"

I did. I had a point to prove. Cute worker. But also stops to help those in need."

"Is there a point to this?"

"Not really. My original plan was to tease you about it mercilessly."

"Oh, I can hardly wait."

"You are going to have to. Before anything else I need you to remove that video of her from the internet and anywhere else."

"What? Why?"

"She was really closed off when I asked her anything. She started acting really uncomfortable."

"Sounds a lot like she isn't interested in you."

"I agree. She definitely wasn't but when Babs showed her the video she got really upset, possibly distressed. We think she is in hiding."

It took Tim a while and he was distracted by urgent business a few times but by the end of the work day he had removed every trace of the video he could. He sent a message to Babs to double check and make sure she was unable to find it. It was then that he even had the thought that Babs probably could have done the same thing as him. He wondered what was keeping her so busy that she couldn't help remove the video. It wasn't like Dick to just give up the opportunity to tease him mercilessly when for something as simple as a crush.

---

When Marinette got home from work she looked all over for the video. She wasn't very good working with computers. She could use them functionally but beyond the basics of setting up a website that she used to sell her designs. The trickiest thing she had done was set it up online without connecting it to her former identity. Actually she never really stopped being Marinette, it was the only identity she had in any system and how she still thought of herself. But she hadn't told anyone that name in years, not since leaving France.

She was getting really agitated. She searched everything she could think of to locate the video the couple showed her but she found nothing. Hopefully that meant it would be hard for other people too but she didn't have the resources of someone like Gabriel Agreste and she didn't know what kind of technology existed that he could use to find her. She didn't even know if he would be making an attempt to find her but considering the everything he put Paris through as Hawkmoth and the fire she didn't want to take any chances.

---

Racing across the rooftops was the best way she knew to relieve stress. She didn't even bother with listening in on the bat channel. She did check to see that they were watching out for an expected move by the drug runners again, something that seemed far too complicated for her to get involved with so she just moved to a different area. She liked to do the little things that would make a huge difference to one person rather than take on all of the major crime in Gotham. Tonight she was mostly just running and swinging to feel the air on her face. It would help her clear her head and relax.

It had been more than a month since she had helped the children out of the fire. She wasn't sure what the bats current policy was on her rooftop activities. She had seen Batgirl and Hood on separate occasions since the fire but she wasn't sure if she had been seen or if their claims of not bothering her had only been for that night.

She chose not to worry about it tonight because she just wanted to feel free. She hadn't seen anything going on tonight and she would rather just run. She stood for quite awhile on a tall building just staring at the lights in the city and beyond that to the bay where the lights reflected back. She stood and watched until she started to feel cold through her suit and her worries no longer plagued her before she looped around to head home.

With a surprising lack of crime during her patrol the city felt very peaceful. She was swinging along towards her apartment when a bright blue flash and crackling electricity encased the building directly in front of her. There was an explosion to the right about a block away and another in the other direction somewhat further away. The loud pops were followed by the sound of energy draining and the lights clicking off in succession.

Rouge Gorge has dropped suddenly out of her swinging in surprise at the sudden flash and sound. Her eyes felt like they were swimming in the dark chasing bright spots of light and her ears were buzzing at the sudden sounds. She needed a moment to recover before heading home but she didn't get the option. Hands wrapped around her arms from behind and there was a clicking sound that she thought was probably a gun.

As her eyes regained her vision more she could see a man in front of her. He had an armored suit that was crackling with blue lightning. The rest of the blocks nearby had darkened and the man in front of her provided the only light. He signalled and 3 men with them set off fireworks, she assumed this was to hide their activity and provide cover for the sudden light and black out. She pulled at her arms to test the hold while she still might have a chance of escaping. The hold was firm but that mattered less as she could see that she was surrounded and near their get away vehicles.

For the number of them working it was a quiet operation. At least it was until a man was dragged out of the big house. He was struggling and yelling. The man before Rouge Gorge approached him and with a flash of blue from his gauntlets the body collapsed. The woman who had been focusing on trying to get away to reach her children let out a piercing scream. Her mouth was quickly muffled by a hand and the man in charge threatened her in a low voice that couldn't be heard from a distance. She still struggled and one of the men holding her struck her.

"The children!" said Rouge Gorge desperately. She struggled herself to get to them. She pulled at her arms and flung her head back making contact with the person's face. As soon as the grip loosened she rushed over to the children and had them face away from their parents. She wrapped them in her cape and hid her movements. She wasn't sure what time she would be allowed before she too was bound as the parents were currently being restrained or killed for being in the way.

She flipped the switch on her radio. She kept her voice low and comforting for the children and to not alert the guards with guns who were luckily giving her space for the moment. She asked the children if they saw the flash of light or heard the transformers blow but they had been asleep. As she spoke she tore off a bit of her cape and wrapped it around Red Robin's logo and a scrap of paper she wrote the license plate number on. She put it under her foot with the logo down hoping that it would be found by the bats after the group left. She hoped they could hear over the radio the names of the children Sofia and Alberto and they could use the information and the black out to find them.

Taglist

-several of the tags didn't work. I'm trying to figure it out but if you asked and I didn't tag you it wasn't on purpose I'm just really bad at this.

#maribat #timinette

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chrysalispen · 3 years

Text

#6 - Avatar

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33640546/chapters/83854915

Despite his best efforts, they have overtaken him. The gunblade bullets strike true, once, twice, and even the indignant roar of the dragon within is no match for the stark fact of his mortality.

Estinien drops to one knee with a thickly muttered curse, spitting blood and unable to breathe. One bullet has struck his upper arm and exited through the meat- painful, but recoverable. The other, however, found his chest: high and to the right, nicking his lung, and that will be the strike that ultimately kills him. He will either spend the last of his aether fighting or die trying to staunch the flow.

His pursuers draw short and form ranks about him, just far enough out of range- no amateurs, this lot. If they know enough to be wary of his lance then it is like they have been debriefed on the skillsets of their opponents. Praetorian Guard or some other high-profile unit dedicated to special forces wetwork- Gaius explained the difference to him once before, and buggered if he can remember or care to mark the difference just now. Doesn't matter. They're here to kill him either way and they've probably just succeeded.

Above the high-pitched wail of the wind, there is a chorus of metallic clicking. Hammers on those infernal Garlean weapons poised to fall, and once they do the Azure Dragoon of Ishgard will be no more. He will die alone in a snow-covered wilderness as he had always assumed he would in his younger years, but in the frozen wastes of far northern Ilsabard, so like and yet unlike his home.

"Savage." This uttered through the flat and tinny blare of one of the officers' helmets. "Give us the Black Wolf and your death will be quick."

Gaius will know to continue south and east toward Ala Mhigo with the others if Estinien fails to show at their pre-designated meeting place. The longer Estinien can keep their attention on him, the better.

He can hear a whistling noise that he realizes, in a slow and detached way, is the sucking chest wound taking in air with his every attempt to breathe. Bloody froth bubbles at his lips and with as much deliberate disdain as he can muster, Estinien tilts his chin and spits a great mouthful of it into the snow. Crimson splatters across blinding white and is covered almost immediately by the bitter gale whipping his hair into his eyes.

"If 'tis information you want, then come and get it," he rasps. Swiving imperial whoresons. He'll take his pound of flesh with him as he goes.

Aether rattles about the length of his lance and spins down the shaft to power the blade as he prepares for one last blow that never comes.

A choked gurgle to his left presages the clatter of what is unmistakably a weapon falling to the ground; by some miracle, the shock does not cause it to fire. Estinien's trembling limbs tense, grip tightening upon his lance- and then he notices the imperials are looking too. He should take the opening but half-addled from blood loss he instead follows their gaze.

It is a gruesome sight: a man hangs suspended several ilms in the air like a pinned butterfly, booted feet kicking for purchase and a river of blood pattering to the frozen ground beneath his feet. His fingers pluck weakly at the thing which has killed him - a massive black steel blade, gleaming a pale and flickering blue like will-o-wisp light through torn flesh and carbonweave and pulverized bone - before he slumps forward with a groan. The corse slides only a few ilms before the blade's wielder does the rest, pitching down and violently left to dislodge its burden. It tumbles into the snow and permafrost and lies still.

Haloed in whirling ice and the starkness of sodium lamps from the magitek searchlights, a figure black as pitch lifts its weapon, and Estinien is not a farmer nor a botanist but he knows what a scythe looks like when he sees one.

"What in the seven swiving hells is that?" someone whispers.

The figure does not speak. The wickedly curving blade flashes in reply, with an almost superhuman speed that reminds him of Thancred of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, Thancred and his twin daggers. In its wake follows a splash of crimson and a wet ripping sound and an abruptly silenced scream. Then another, and another.

Realizing his men are - quite literally - being cut down like wheat sheaves, the shocked centurion finally shouts,

"Open fire! Kill him!"

They cannot raise their weapons fast enough. A few manage, and Estinien can see the flash of fire at the muzzles before they fall to that spinning disc of blue and black: some fantastical dervish that seems formed from the Void itself. As one, watching their comrades slaughtered with such horrifying ease, the line of armed and armored soldiers falter. Even in this poor visibility Estinien can see their centurion's hands fumbling, one for his gunblade and the other at his helm.

The transceiver, he realizes.

"He's calling for reinforcements!" Estinien shouts.

The black figure reacts swiftly, cutting another swathe through the ranks before it is flying through the air, its edges suddenly moving and fluttering- and Estinien can see now that it is neither a voidsent nor a spectre but someone as mortal as himself, dressed head to toe in black reinforced leather and carbonweave and cermet-plated steel.

It lands feet first in the snow with a soft crunch, scythe extended. The blade's curved tip now rests just at the wrist joint of the centurion's right gauntlet. "Drop your weapon," a smooth voice orders.

"You are interfering with a highly classified milita-"

"I don't give a swiving damn who sent you out here. Drop your weapon or I'm happy to see the task done for you."

Through his steadily growing haze, Estinien can hear a warning growl somewhere in his mind as another figure seems to materialize alongside the first: this one cloaked and indistinct save for the two spindly arms that wrap about its partner's shoulders like a lover's embrace. Be on your guard, Nidhogg warns. Something is sorely amiss with this mortal. There is a darkness about its aether that should not exist.

The gunblade tumbles from the centurion's suddenly limp fingers to the snow.

"Abomination," the Garlean spits through the speaker in his helm. "Reaper. You- I know who- what you are."

"Then you know what your next course of action should be," the figure replies. "And I suggest that you make all due haste. My friend is still very hungry."

He doesn't need to be told twice. The centurion staggers a few steps backward and once he is out of immediate range of the scythe, breaks into a sprint. It is all the impetus his underlings need to flee at his heels. The line folds and breaks and dissipates, fading into the blizzard and breaking apart like wet paper.

Now that he is alone, the last of Estinien's strength leaves him.

His lance clatters to the hard-packed ground as he slumps forward from his knees to his side, coughing and gagging on a mouthful of blood. Absurdly when he tries to think of Ishgard the first thing that comes to mind instead is that little teahouse down by the Kugane docks and the dried squid snacks available for purchase just beyond its doors. Dried squid. Fury's frozen cuntflaps, what a bleeding ridiculous godsdamned final wish.

At the blurred edges of his failing vision, he can see the slow approach of the black figure, the edge of a long cape whipping in the wind like a tattered battle-standard, massive scythe slung with an almost casual insolence over one shoulder.

Nidhogg is snarling and spitting, a posturing beast.

Beware. Beware-

He has just enough time to wonder if he is next before the world is lost to white.

#ffxivwrite2021 #estinien wyrmblood #aka frost has reaper headcanons and isn't waiting for endwalker #6: avatar #cw: violence #mysterious reaper!oc #who is that masked lady with the giant scythe #chrysalispen writes

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remywrites5 · 4 years

Text

Remus looked at himself in the mirror as he brushed his teeth. He really needed to get more sleep, the bags under his eyes had taken up permanent residence there, and his roots were starting to come in. He spat into the sink and then rinsed his toothbrush off. When he glanced back up at himself, there was the same harrowing reflection staring back. He needed to at least re-dye his hair pink or else pick a different colour.

He’d dyed it pink on a whim after his last breakup. He thought maybe going from his usual tawny curls to something else would make him more exciting, more cheerful, more something. “Why are you never smiling?” Benjy had asked Remus all the time. As if Remus should just constantly be smiling like some kind of insane person.

Remus walked over to his desk and flopped into his rolling chair. He sat with one leg bent up towards his chest and hunched over his tablet. The thing was so old it was practically a dinosaur. The program he used to draw on was always crashing – causing Remus to do almost constant saving. Drawing web comics wasn’t exactly the most lucrative use of his art degree, but it paid the bills.

There was some sort of ungodly sound outside and then the distinct clatter of something breaking. Remus jumped to his feet in surprise, wondering if someone had climbed up to his flat to murder him. Two shadows appeared at his door and then one of them knocked. Well, if they were murderers, they were of the polite variety.

Remus walked over tentatively, his pen for his tablet still in his hand as his only means of defense. He figured at the least maybe he could poke a few eyes.

“I don’t think anyone is home.”

“He has to be home. I haven’t seen him leave the house in days.”

“Hmm, paying close attention, are we?”

“Shut up, Jamie.”

“Ow!”

Confused, Remus opened the door to find two guys standing on the other side. The dark-skinned one with glasses immediately smiled, while the pale one with long dark hair kept his face neutral.

“Hiya! I’m James and this is Sirius,” James said, moving what was in his hand so that he could wave. “We run the bakery downstairs. We just came to introduce ourselves and bring you these!”

Remus took the container when James offered it, still a little bit stunned by the whole thing, and opened it up. Inside was an assortment of baked goods. “Oh. Thank you,” Remus said, a little bit at a loss for words. “This is really nice.”

Remus was suddenly struck by the fact that two very attractive men were on his doorstep and Remus was wearing the same hoodie he’d worn for three days. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d put on deodorant. Embarrassed beyond belief, Remus felt his cheeks flush.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” James prompted his friend, shoving at Sirius’ shoulder.

“Hi,” Sirius said, running his fingers through his shoulder-length hair.

Remus swallowed thickly and quickly put the container of goodies down. He didn’t trust his shaking hands not to drop them. “Nice to meet you.”

“Whoa, are you an artist?” James asked, noticing the pen in Remus’ hand. “Do you think you could design something for us?”

“James, don’t impose,” Sirius said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I’m not imposing!” James insisted, turning and shooting Sirius a look. “We’ll pay for the work. It’s just right now our menus are so bland! They don’t really say ‘Padfoot and Prongs’ Patisserie.”

“That’s a fancy name,” Remus said, tucking the pen behind his ear so that he could shove his hands in his pockets. Suddenly they’d gotten all sweaty.

“Yeah well, this wanker is half French, so he wouldn’t let me call it a pastry shop,” James said teasingly. “By the way, you haven’t told us your name.”

“Oh,” Remus said, realizing that James was right. He shuffled his feet slightly and kind of wished James and Sirius would leave. He hadn’t had such a long social interaction in months. This was getting to be a bit much, and James’ enthusiasm was draining. “Remus. Remus Lupin.”

“So do you think you can design something for our menus?” James asked excitedly, his hazel eyes big behind his glasses.

“Um, sure, I’ll take a stab at it,” Remus offered, even though he kind of didn’t want to. He had deadlines to meet and he was already a little behind. But then James and Sirius had brought him baked goods without having even met Remus before. Besides, how hard could designing a menu be?

“Great!” James said, slapping Sirius on the back. “Isn’t that great, Padfoot?”

Sirius sighed. “Sure is.”

Remus pulled out his wallet and handed James one of his business cards. It had been Benjy’s idea that Remus get them. This was only the second Remus had even given out. The first one had been given the Benjy. What a waste of money.

“My email is at the bottom,” Remus explained, pointing to it on the card. “Just send me the details of what you want and I’ll work something up.”

Sirius tilted his head to the side. “What are your rates?”

“Um…” Fuck, Remus hadn’t exactly thought about it. He knew what he charged per page on his web comic but this was completely different. “How about you just, um, let me get a free baked good from time to time and we’ll call it even?”

“Of course!” James said, nodding emphatically.

“Hold on,” Sirius interjected, putting his hand up to stop James. “For the rest of time you want free shit from us? Just for a doodle?”

“Sirius –“ James cut in, his face slightly aghast at his friend’s harsh tone.

“I – I won’t abuse it or anything,” Remus said, feeling his face heat. Christ, the way Sirius was looking at him made him nervous. “It won’t be every day or anything like that.”

Sirius huffed and turned his face away. “Fine. But I reserve the right to cut you off.”

“Okay.”

“Perfect,” James said, tugging on Sirius’ arm. “We should get back downstairs. We’ve still got a lot to do before we open. I’ll email you later, Remus!”

“Sounds good,” Remus said, waving after them as they started down the fire escape. The moment he closed the door, he felt like he could breathe a little easier. He didn’t know what Sirius’ problem was, but the fewer interactions Remus had with him the better.

***

Remus finished up the latest update for his comic and sat back with a groan. It was already 10:30 at night and Remus hadn’t had any dinner. For once he had been in a good flow and hadn’t wanted to stop. Now his stomach was so empty it hurt. He couldn’t remember eating breakfast either.

He walked over to where he had left the baked good James had dropped off and carried the container into bed. He sat munching on them as he scrolled through his phone. He had eaten about half of them when he remembered James was supposed to contact him. He pulled up his email and sure enough there was a message from James Potter.

Apparently they wanted something kind of classy involving a buck and a black dog. Remus was intrigued, and popped a custard crème into his mouth. Their stuff really was mouth-wateringly good. Remus was glad he had asked for pastries instead of cash. While he could use the money, he tended to live on instant noodles and bacon sandwiches. Having something from the bakery from time to time would be a real treat.

***

Remus’ flat was on the top floor of the building and it meant he had almost exclusive rooftop access. He hadn’t done much with it except put out a table and two chairs. He really only went out there to smoke anyway. He stood by the side of the roof with his elbows on the ledge, watching the street below, his cigarette resting between his lips.

Sirius exited the bakery and walked down the side alley of the building. He seemed to be having a heated discussion with someone on the phone. Remus felt himself tracking Sirius with his eyes, even though he didn’t mean to.

“Damn it, Reg, I already told you –“ Sirius seemed to be cut off by the other person on the phone. “I don’t care if they cut me off. I’m not going on a blind date that my mum set up with a woman! I haven’t lived in that house for five years and she still thinks she can control me. Now she’s even roping you into it.”

Remus felt a bit bad for eavesdropping, but the street was relatively quiet at that time of day, so it was difficult not to hear. Remus wondered why Sirius had said woman like that, as if he were offended by being set up with someone female. Remus didn’t want to get his hopes up that Sirius might also be gay. Thinking that was a dangerous route to go down. He tried to finish up his cigarette and go back inside before he was spotted, but it seemed Sirius was done with his conversation. He dropped his phone by his side and looked up at the sky. His eyes seemed to immediately land on Remus and Remus felt his cheeks heat up in response. He took a slow drag of his ciggy and let it out, letting his eyes drift away as if he hadn’t just been staring.

He wasn’t wholly surprised when he heard footsteps making their way up the fire escape. He finished his cigarette and lit another one. He usually didn’t chain smoke like this, considering all the nicotine often made him dizzy, due to how little he ate most days. He turned when Sirius made it onto the roof and somehow managed to meet Sirius’ accusing stare.

“How much of that did you hear?” Sirius asked, slipping his phone into his pocket.

Remus scratched his cheek with his free hand. “Uh, the whole thing?”

Sirius sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Can I bum one of those?”

Remus opened the pack and shook one out towards Sirius. Sirius slid it between his lips and leaned in when Remus flicked the lighter to light it. Remus hadn’t noticed it the first time they met, but Sirius had grey eyes. Remus had never seen someone with eyes like that before.

Remus had no idea what to say, so he just continued smoking, watching Sirius out of his peripheral vision. It was a little awkward, but not unbearably so, and it seemed Sirius was happy to smoke in silence. Sirius’ apron was covered in flour, and what Remus hoped was jam of some kind. not something more nefarious based on its red colour. The last thing he needed was a Sweeney Todd situation in his building.

Remus and Sirius finished their cigarettes at the same time and both killed them in the ashtray. They were standing so close, should to shoulder, and Remus had no idea why that made his heart race. He turned towards Sirius in order to say his goodbyes, and suddenly Sirius was even closer.

“Well, I should –“

Remus didn’t finish that sentence as Sirius was leaning in. He was moving with intent and his lips just barely brushed against Remus’. Remus gasped, the sound getting swallowed up as Sirius’ lips pressed more firmly against Remus’. Remus let himself enjoy it for a moment, Christ, it had been so long since he’d kissed someone, before he brought himself back to his sense.

“What are you doing?” he demanded, pushing Sirius away.

Sirius’ eyes searched Remus’ for a moment and then he took another step back. “Fuck, I – I’m sorry. I don’t even have an excuse.”

Remus grinned as he watched Sirius flounder for a moment. He decided to let Sirius off the hook. It was just a little kiss after all. “Hey, I’m almost done with the menu design. Do you want to see it?”

The tension in Sirius’ shoulders ebbed at Remus’ offer. “Yeah, sure.”

Remus told Sirius to sit down at the little table while Remus went inside to get his tablet. He brought it out and sat down across from Sirius. He opened up the menu design and placed it in front of Sirus. He was actually a little nervous as Sirius looked it over. It was a buck and a dog running through a forest surrounded by berry bushes. James had explained in the email that their homemade jam was a huge selling point for them and they wanted the menu to emphasize that.

“It’s not too dark, is it?” Remus asked, chewing his bottom lip.

“No, I think it’s perfect.” Sirius glanced up, and for the first time Remus had seen, Sirius smiled. “We’re doing a soft opening in two days. You should come.”

“Will I have to pay?” Remus teased, resting his chin in his hand and looking at Sirius.

Sirius laughed. “Fine, you don’t have to pay. What kind of pastry do you like best? I’ll make it for you.”

Remus considered it for a moment. “Jammy dodgers.”

Sirius’ grin widened. “You got it.”

***

Remus went to the soft opening, even though he hadn’t been around that many people in a while, and it put his social anxiety through the roof. He met James’ wife, Lily, and their son, Harry. He also met quite a few of James and Sirius’ closest friends. Even though everyone was very nice, Remus couldn’t help feeling a bit like an outsider.

However, Remus didn’t miss the way that his jammy dodgers seemed to be the only ones with little hearts in the middle. That knowledge alone was enough to make him stick around.

***

Remus was in trouble. His web comic was about a werewolf and a vampire that fell in love with each other. The werewolf character struck a striking resemblance to Remus, although the character had Remus’ original hair colour. The idea had come to him based on his name. The vampire character, however, had short dark hair and red eyes. Yet, whenever Remus found himself drawing him, his hair seemed to be getting progressively longer for no discernable reason and his eyes seemed to be grey.

It didn’t help that Remus saw Sirius pretty much every day. During his lunch break, Sirius would bring up something from the bakery, and they would sit together at the little table and eat and smoke. Remus had gotten to know Sirius, little by little, cracking away at Sirius’ shell to the gooey center underneath. Despite his first impression of Sirius, and his original cold exterior, Remus found the man himself was mushy and romantic and sweet.

Remus told Sirius about the fact that he’d always meant to make a little rooftop garden, but as of yet hadn’t really gotten around to buying any plants. Sirius showed up the next day with a little tree.

“It’s called Dogwood,” he’d said with a knowing grin. He had continued to buy Remus several flowers and plants since then. He’d even brought some herbs for cooking, even though Remus insisted he didn’t really cook. Every time Sirius and Remus found a place for the new plant, Sirius would get that same smile. A smile that had started to cause butterflies in Remus’ stomach.

There was no talk about the conversation Remus had overheard or of the kiss they’d shared. Remus figured both topics were off limits.

Maybe that’s why he couldn’t get Sirius out of his head.

***

Remus dropped his head back and groaned. “I told you if you didn’t stop me I would eat all six éclairs.”

“An impressive feat,” Sirius said, grinning behind his wine glass as he took a sip.

“I hate you,” Remus said, scrubbing his hand over his face. He was starting to sweat a bit from overeating. “I’m going to put on so much weight.”

“You could use some more meat on your bones,” Sirius responded with a shrug. “You barely eat as it is.”

“I was right, this is a Sweeney Todd situation, you’re fattening me up to put me in a pie,” Remus bemoaned, clutching his stomach. That last éclair had really done him in.

“We don’t even serve meat pies at the bakery,” Sirius said in amusement. “I think you’re safe.”

“I’m not buying it,” Remus said, staring at Sirius accusingly. “Why else would you bring me all these sweets?”

Sirius glanced away, twirling his wine glass between his fingers. “For an excuse to come see you.”

“Oh,” Remus said, a blush rising to his cheeks. “Really?”

Sirius stood up and walked over to Remus, placing his hand on the back of Remus’ chair, and leaning into him. “So, I made a mess of our first kiss. Think you might let me try again?”

“Um.” Remus stared up at Sirius and let out a shaky breath. “Yes. W-we can do that.”

Sirius slid his fingers through Remus’ curls until his hand came to rest at the back of Remus’ head. Then he guided their lips together into a soft kiss. Remus opened his mouth first, and Sirius was quick to follow suit, their tongues meeting in a mixture of chocolate, wine and cigarettes. Remus eagerly chased the taste from Sirius’ mouth.

Sirius pulled back after a few life-altering moments. Remus felt his eyes flutter open to find that Sirius was smiling at him. God, Remus loved it when Sirius smiled. “I could eat you up, I really could,” Sirius sang softly.

Remus busted out laughing. “Do not sing Sweeney Todd at me when you’re trying to be romantic.”

Sirius chuckled and pulled Remus up into a hug. “Noted. Should I just tell you I love you then?”

Remus hugged Sirius back, burying his face in Sirius’ neck, ignoring the deep blush currently on his face. “I-I think that would work.”

“Well?” Sirius asked expectantly, turning his face and pressing a kiss to Remus’ forehead.

Remus hugged Sirius tighter. “I love you too.”

Remus stood there, in a moment so like a fairy tale that he didn’t want it to end, wishing he could freeze time. He stood in the moonlight, embracing the man he had come to adore, surrounded by all the plants Sirius had bought just for him. It felt like more than Remus deserved, but he wasn’t about to let it go. He could only hope the next moment would be just as sweet.

#wolfstar #I write things #fluff #bakery au #can you tell I just read The Baker On the First Floor?#sirius black x remus lupin #I don't know why there's so many sweeney todd references in this #they just kind of happened #long post #background jily #pink haired Remus inspired by Fel #artist Remus #baker Sirius #smoking

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hellowkatey · 3 years

Text

Febuwhump Day 1

Prompt: Mind Control @febuwhump

read on ao3

A Magnet for Trouble

"This," Anakin kicks at a ball of dust, causing the particles to go flying everywhere. "blows,"

His Master coughs, and Anakin looks up to see he has kicked the dust directly into the face of Obi-Wan. He supposes he earned the disapproving scowl this time.

"Not every mission is going to be exciting, Padawan. Sometimes we receive tasks that are a little more on the mundane side."

Anakin examines his Master's face as he continues to brush dust out of his bearded face. Though he has the typical Obi-Wan Kenobi stoicism, Anakin has known him long enough to see that he too isn't exactly pleased about their task.

Some random Outer Rim planet claimed to have found some ancient Jedi artifact, so the council sent them to go fetch it. Literally, anyone could have done this, but they decided to send a Jedi knight? Master Nu would probably love this kind of thing, but Master Obi-Wan wouldn't let him suggest that to Master Windu.

So now they're searching through this dusty old house that smells like bantha poodoo and mildew because the local officials were too afraid to touch it. Apparently even too scared to get close enough to the artifact to get a decent holo. From the dark image, it looked like a deactivated Holocron, so Anakin isn't sure what all the fuss it about.

"Why would the Jedi leave something valuable in this kind of place?" he asks, crinkling his nose at a pile of something in the corner that seems to be a source of the horrible smell.

"This house is old, Anakin. I suspect long ago it was quite elegant and beautiful. During the Great Peace, Jedi Masters often opted to retire in their home worlds or places they liked. It is entirely possible this was the residence of a Jedi Master."

"I thought Jedi didn't like material things, though. This place is huge!" They'd spent the last hour or two making their way carefully through the three-story winding home.

Obi-Wan chuckles. "We are taught not to keep material things, but that does not mean some Jedi don't like them anyway. I'm sure you and that desk of projects you have can relate."

"Those are practical, Master."

"A bolt slingshot is practical?"

Anakin looks away from the wry gaze of his Master. He may or may not have broken a mug or two with that slingshot, but it was a prototype.

They go into the next room. It's the largest bedroom by far, with a canopied bed and large heavy furniture in various places. White sheets haphazardly cover the tables and paintings.

"Surprise, surprise. Another dusty bedroom." Anakin sighs, tugging down one of the sheets to look at the painting. In the dark, it is difficult to see, but he can tell it's a portrait of a woman.

"This is the main bedroom. Perhaps our artifact is somewhere in here."

"You'd think they'd tell us where they found it."

"I suspect they forgot which room it was."

Understandable, I suppose. There are literally over twenty different bedrooms that all look similar. While Master Obi-Wan looks through the drawers of the bedroom, Anakin continues to take interest in the painting. He pulls his lightsaber out, igniting it to get a better source of light.

"What are you doing?" Obi-Wan asks, his back still turned to him.

"Need more light." He waves the lightsaber close enough to the painting to see the face of the woman. Intense golden eyes stare back at him, almost like they are locking him into a gaze. He is entranced by her dark shiny curls that cascade down her shoulders and seem to fade into the elegant dark robes she is wearing. His eyes settle at the necklace that hangs from her neck, its dark metal forming a teardrop shape with a red gem in the center.

The woman is beautiful. Scarily beautiful. Were her eyes brown she might look a little bit like Padmé, or at least how Anakin remembers her. It's been nearly eight years since he's seen her, and he misses her sweet smile dearly.

"Anakin, what have I told you about gawking?" Obi-Wan teases, tugging at his padawan braid as he passes.

"I'm not-- oh nevermind," he groans, pulling his braid back in front of his shoulder.

"I'll check the closet, keep looking here."

"Yes, Master." He lowers his saber, about to turn it off when something catches his eye. The glow of his saber shows a space at the base of the wall. Anakin crouches down, placing his hand at the baseboard, and indeed feels a bit of a draft coming from underneath.

Interesting. He puts his saber away and stands, running his hands along the sides of the painting. To his excitement, he finds a seam in the wall, hidden well by the frame. He grins and reaches out with the Force. If this is the home of a Jedi, they undoubtedly would have a secret door that is Force activated! Maybe I can figure out how to put this in my room...

The section of the wall shutters and then slides backward, revealing a darkened room.

"Oh wizard," Anakin mutters to himself, pulling his saber out. He is about to walk into the room when he turns, looking to see if Obi-Wan is anywhere near. He probably should tell his master what he found, but maybe checking it out first would be a good idea. He would hate to take him away from his search for a dead-end...

He will call for him if he finds something. If this is where the artifact is, then he can say he found it all by himself!

Anakin steps into the room, using his lightsaber to light his path. It is larger than he expected, just a desk in the far corner and a bookshelf that is now empty and covered in cobwebs. He walks right up to the desk, giddiness running through him as he spots a cube in the center of the table. He picks it up, turning it around in his hands to examine it.

The holo they gave was dark, but this seems to be the artifact! It is a dark metalloid material with markings that do look like a Holocron, but it doesn't glow blue as the ones he has seen. In fact... it doesn't seem to be a Holocron at all. If it is a Jedi thing, maybe it too responds to the Force? He closes his eyes, trying to get some sort of signature from the object, but it is like it is just out of reach for him.

Strange. He decides to show Obi-Wan and walks out of the secret room. In the light of the main room, now Anakin can see there is a latch. Oh duh, it's a box!

"Hey Master, come look at this," he calls, as he undoes the latch.

"One moment, Anakin."

With the latch open, Anakin tugs at both ends, and the cube opens at the center, sending something from within rattling out and onto the floor under the bed. He cringes, hoping he didn't break whatever it is. He crouches down, feeling around the dusty floor until his hands lie on something cool and metalloid. He draws it out, his eyes widening when he realizes it's a necklace.

The necklace from the portrait. Its teardrop design is smooth in his hand as he examines it. Somehow, as old as it must be, it isn't tarnished.

Skywalker.

He looks over his shoulder, but there is no one there. Anakin could have sworn he heard his...

Skywalker, come to me.

He looks the other way. The voice is quiet, indistinguishable of gender though it is definitely speaking basic. When it whispers his name once more he looks down at the necklace, suddenly realizing that the voice is not coming from around him, but from it.

He flips it over, revealing the beautiful red stone. It shimmers as though it is its own light source, entrancing Anakin in its kaleidoscope of colors. He runs his thumb from the side of the necklace to the stone to feel the smooth-looking gem.

The moment he touches it, he is struck with an icy chill that runs from his fingertips down to his toes. Terror fills the Jedi Padawan, and he staggers backward, his mind telling him to drop it but his body not listening. He clenches the necklace in his freezing hands, and the world around him tunnels.

Obi-Wan is going to be so mad at me...

And then there is only darkness.

_______

A clatter and a thump resonate from the other room. Obi-Wan sighs. What has he done this time? He found nothing in the closet so he heads back to see what his padawan has gotten into this time. While he had hoped Anakin would outgrow his propensity to attract trouble, it seems the sixteen-year-old is still well endowed in finding mayhem.

"Anakin, if you managed to break something--" he trails off as a chill runs up his spine. A warning in the Force. Obi-Wan puts a hand on his lightsaber and reaches out through their bond.

On the other end, he feels nothing but static.

"Anakin!" he calls, now running into the bedroom. He skids to a stop at the sight of one of the walls caved in, an open box lying on the floor, and Anakin's body slumped to the side. Though he still senses danger, he doesn't see anything that could be causing it. He drops to his knees beside his padawan, rolling him so his head lies atop Obi-Wan's legs. He lays a hand on Anakin's cheek and pulls away in horror at how cold he is. "Anakin, wake up!" he orders, shaking him firmly.

Obi-Wan gets a sudden feeling like he's been here before. For a split second, his teenage padawan becomes his graying Master lying motionless in his arms on Naboo. Panic grips him, and he grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut. As quickly as he sees it, it is gone.

Freezing fingers enclose around his wrist and Obi-Wan's eyes snap open to see Anakin staring back at him, but there is something off about him. He opens his mouth to say something, but before he has time to process what is happening his body is being flung across the room with tremendous force. His back slams into the wall and he sags to the ground, vision spotting with black dots.

Anakin stands now with his lightsaber in hand, and Obi-Wan realizes what is wrong with his padawan is that his bright blue eyes now shine a dusty gold.

"Padawan," Obi-Wan says carefully as he pulls himself to his feet. He doesn't dare reach for his own lightsaber. "What happened?"

"I am no padawan," he says back, his ashen face devoid of any emotion. Though it is Anakin's voice it isn't Anakin. Obi-Wan has never heard him speak in such an inflection.

"Then do tell me who I am speaking to."

"Anakin Skywalker."

Obi-Wan shakes his head. "I'm afraid not."

"I am Anakin Skywalker, and you, Obi-Wan Kenobi, will die by my hand."

Anakin raises his saber, not in his usual starting position but in Form II-- Count Dooku's preferred form for its elegance and dueling superiority. Anakin has never once taken interest in the fluidity and discipline it takes to learn Makashi.

Obi-Wan still doesn't grab for his own weapon. Anakin lets out a guttural yelp and darts forward, jabbing his lightsaber aggressively. Obi-Wan twists out of the way much to the displeasure of whatever is controlling Anakin.

"Draw your weapon, coward," he hisses.

"What have you done to him?"

Anakin's face twists into a sinister smile that Obi-Wan has a feeling will likely give him nightmares in the weeks to come. "He is my vessel. A strong one, at that, for an apprentice. I have inserted my Life Force into him, and now we are one."

The boy lunges at him again, and Obi-Wan is able to evade him once again, but this time his shoulder is grazed by the tip of the lightsaber. He bites his lip at the red-hot pain igniting his upper body but swallows it back.

"So what is the plan then? What is your purpose?"

"Does there need be a purpose besides the chance to walk the galaxy once again?"

He stares at the boy, recognizing the tell-tale shadowing of him about to strike once again. If whatever is occupying his padawan is telling the truth, then Obi-Wan knows what he must do. He finally draws his lightsaber grimly, raising it above his head parallel to the floor in the opening move of Soresu. He points in Anakin's direction.

"You will not take over the soul of a boy for your selfish purposes," he says, and then Anakin's saber is crashing against his.

Obi-Wan has sparred with Anakin so many times throughout their training. The boy is a natural with a lightsaber, and one of the best padawan fighters among his age mates. He is quick and decisive, pouring every ounce of his endless supply of energy into each brutal strike. Even with another controlling his mind, his body still moves like Anakin. Thankfully, this is a feat Obi-Wan can easily accomplish. He blocks every strike, knowing exactly what he is planning before Anakin even knows it. Every one of his jabs is met with Obi-Wan's lightsaber waiting patiently for him to catch up. With every crackle of their blades striking another, he can see the fire in Anakin's eyes grow. His golden eyes are not unlike the piercing yellow of Darth Maul, filled with hatred and anger.

Through his anger and fatigue and many minutes of combat, Anakin becomes more and more sloppy. Obi-Wan takes this opportunity to lash out with a rapid kick to the center of his chest. He goes staggering backward in surprise, and Obi-Wan is quick to sweep his legs and cause him to go tumbling to the ground.

"I see you are not used to the awkward body of a teenager," Obi-Wan says, kicking the lightsaber out of Anakin's hand and using the Force to pin him to the ground. He thrashes against the hold, but Obi-Wan is tapping deep into his Force abilities to hold him still. He can already feel the tremendous headache blossoming in his temples.

"You know you will have to kill him to stop me," The thing says lowly. "There is no other way."

"No," Obi-Wan shakes his head. "There is always another way."

"The boy is kin to the darkness. It wraps around him and he accepts it with open arms," he grins. "Anakin Skywalker is a natural in the dark side, and so you must kill him to free him."

Obi-Wan kneels down beside the restrained boy, placing a hand on his forehead despite his attempts to pull away. He looks Anakin-who-is-not-really-Anakin in the eyes, reaching out once again through their bond.

Anakin. He calls against the distant sliver of his padawan's Force presence. Come back to me, my padawan. You are stronger than it is. Fight against it. Take hold of the light.

A girthy cackle. "You think the boy can fight me? A Master of the ancient Sith arts?"

Obi-Wan smiles. Through their bond, he hears the quiet voice of his padawan. Distant, but determined.

"And you think you can silence my padawan? I assure you, I have tried. Many times."

The darkness that taints the Force suddenly begins to flicker, and the Sith's prideful face flickers with sudden worry. "This is-- this is impossible," it says.

Master! Obi-Wan hears Anakin saying with great distress, and he lays his hands on either of his cheeks.

Anakin I am here! I am with you, keep trying! Obi-Wan is growing wearier and wearier by the moment trying to keep Anakin still.

"I will not be bested!" the Sith grunts and Obi-Wan is thrown back. He manages to stay on his feet, but his hold finally slips. The bedroom erupts in a whirlwind of raw power. Loose objects and a cloud of dust fly around at terminal velocity. Obi-Wan squints through the dust storm and sees Anakin now on his feet, his saber back in his hand and ignited in front of him. His eyes stare wildly at the blade as he rotates it in his hand before looking back up at Obi-Wan with a sinister look. "Not by you, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and certainly not by a padawan."

Obi-Wan's eyes widen, "No!" he yells, lunging forward as Anakin's wrist turns to point the tip of his blade toward his own heart. Naboo flashes before him once again, and Obi-Wan is filled with a burst of energy from the Force.

He will not watch the Sith take another from him.

Obi-Wan flips through the air and manages to jam his blade between Anakin and his own lightsaber, deflecting it away from his chest and smashing his wrist in the wall. Anakin's cry of pain rings out as his shoulder dislocates from the force Obi-Wan uses. It makes him feel like his heart is tearing in two, but a dislocated shoulder is worlds better than a lightsaber through the heart. Anakin's lightsaber drops and Obi-Wan summons it to his hand with the Force. Now he is restrained once again, this time physically rather than through the Force. He can feel the heave of his padawan's chest, and the feral thrashing of his body.

Obi-Wan blankets himself with the Force, allowing it to take control of his strength. He reaches through their bond once more, pushing past the barriers the Sith had placed. To his relief, he finds Anakin's Force presence shining brightly, just lost.

I am here, padawan. Come back to me.

__________

Anakin opens his eyes and immediately closes them. His head hurts.

As his grogginess begins to clear, a few questions prod at him. Why does my head hurt? Why am I on the floor? Where is Obi-Wan?

An exacerbated exhale beside him makes him realize maybe the answer to his last question is easily answered. Anakin rolls to his side, squinting through the pounding headache at his temples. Obi-Wan lies on his back next to him, head flopped to the side so Anakin can clearly see his face. Shock pangs through him and he ignores the pain and makes himself sit up.

Bad idea. His shoulder now erupts in shooting pain, and he looks down to see it is not in the correct position. He blinks back some tears that have formed and tries to focus on his master.

Blood drips down from Obi-Wan's nose, coloring the mustache of his beard a dark crimson. He spots a char mark across his left shoulder-- from a lightsaber?-- and dark circles so dark they look like two black eyes..

"Master!" Anakin yells, grabbing him by the lapels of his robes.

He doesn't remember what happened. How they ended up unconscious in the bedroom-- which looks war-torn with kicked up dust and broken objects. A glint of metalloid catches his eye and he picks up his own lightsaber that lies in Obi-Wan's other hand. His stomach drops. What could make Obi-Wan need to dual-wield? He isn't sure he's ever actually seen Obi-Wan fight with two sabers.

Anakin reaches out through their training bond, and his master winces in his sleep. He immediately withdraws, eyes wide. Their bond is strained. Obi-Wan's shields are simultaneously locked tight and clearly on the brink of collapse. Force exhaustion.

His master isn't the only one suffering from it, either. Anakin slumps himself forward to lay on Obi-Wan's chest, careful of his dislocated shoulder. He matches his master's even breaths to calm himself down and ease his own pain. He is nearly falling asleep when he feels movement below him and fingers carefully rifle through his hair.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan says stiffly. "Why are you on top of me?"

He perks up, turning around with glee at the sound of his Master's voice.

"Have a nice nap, Master?" he says, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

Obi-Wan slowly pushes himself to a sitting position. He leans his head back against the wall. "Oh, a lovely one," he says dryly. Then his expression shifts to worry. "What do you remember, Anakin?"

Question of the year. "I remember finding the secret room. And opening a box that had a necklace in it. And then... I woke up here."

"Nothing else?"

He takes a slow, deep breath. "I kind of remember hearing you telling me to come back, or something," his eyes flicker up to meet Master Obi-Wan's. "Did I pass out? Were we attacked?"

The Jedi Knight stares at him for a long moment-- so long it begins to feel uncomfortable. Anakin can tell he is not saying something important, or at least debating whether or not to actually say it.

"It seems your snooping got you into trouble again, my padawan. That necklace... held the Force presence of an ancient Sith who managed to... control you for a small while. I suspect the request was forged to lure Jedi here."

Anakin blinks with confusion. He looks at the lightsaber mark on Obi-Wan's shoulder and the pieces start to fall together.

"We fought... I did this... and I hurt you," he says, shame filling him.

"To be fair," Obi-Wan shrugs. "I accidentally injured your shoulder so don't feel bad about something you didn't consciously do."

Still, Anakin bows his head and stares at the floor. He messed up and got them both hurt in the process. Probably lost the artifact as well. When will I stop being such a screw-up?

A finger taps at his chin, and Anakin looks up to see Obi-Wan looking at him with a comforting gaze. There is no anger or disappointment in his face or the Force that flows between them. "This was not your fault, Anakin. In fact, you did amazingly. You were the one who stopped the Sith, forced it from your body and sent it back into the Force where it cannot hurt anyone anymore. You were brave and strong and didn't give up."

Anakin smiles, the negative feelings melting away easily now. Obi-Wan slowly pulls himself to his feet and reaches his hand out to help Anakin up as well.

"Come, padawan. I've had quite enough of this mission."

They begin to stagger toward the door. Anakin looks over at the painting and feels his heart skip a beat. The woman is gone now, leaving only the simple background on the canvas. In the back of his mind, he can hear her now. Feel the darkness surround you, Skywalker. Embrace it. Use it. Fuel your power and extinguish the light.

But more clearly, he can hear Obi-Wan. You are stronger than it is. Fight against it. Take hold of the light.

Their commands echo through his mind, the Sith one becoming quieter and quieter until it is gone completely. Relief finally washes through him as the darkness fades away.

They walk back through the dusty halls, slowly and leaning on one another. Anakin remembers their conversation as they walked these corridors earlier and smiles.

"I suppose this wasn't a boring mission after all,"

Obi-Wan sighs. "I should really stop wishing for mundane missions. There seems to be no such thing. We could be farming and you would find a way to attract trouble."

#febuwhump #febuwhump 2021 #febuwhumpday1 #star wars #obi-wan kenobi #anakin skywalker

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notchesandbullets · 3 years

Text

Saving Her (Ojiro Mashirao x Wolf!Reader)

Part 5: Mall trip with the girls plus Kaminari, Shoji and Ojiro as you’re all followed by your scruffy homeroom teacher that would much rather sleep than chaperone you all. It’s not exactly what you expected when you’re cornered the second you’re left alone.

Word Count: 5k

Warning: harassment

Excited shrieks filled the air and you would've cringed at the ringing the loud volume had on your sensitive ears if you weren't so excited yourself. Shooting down the hallway at lightning speed, the girls passed the two of you in a flash to get to the first floor of the dormitory, leaving you and Ojiro alone.

He laughed, then extended a hand out to you in a silent invitation. You took it without so much as a pause and the two of you started to head downstairs.

Then he frowned as something unwelcome popped up in his head. "The mall is pretty crowded this time of day."

It was still light outside since they were just let out of school. He knew there was going to be a lot of people and didn't know how well you fared in a crowd. You seemed extremely jumpy, especially around strangers and he didn't want to put you in a position where you felt uncomfortable.

Swinging your joined hands leisurely, you tugged it a little to gain his attention. "I think I should be okay."

He squeezed your hand once and made a mental note to ensure your safety while you were out. Those people were probably still looking for you. He would've gone by himself but he had a feeling you weren't going to let him. Not to mention, you hadn't been exposed to all the wonderful things this world had to offer.

And he was going to introduce you to all of them. Starting with the mall that held endless amounts of entities to entertain you.

When you arrived on the common floor, you were surprised to see Shoji and Kaminari waiting along with the girls. Ojiro had texted them, asking if they wanted to come with.

"Ojiro!!" Kaminari waved excitedly, bounding up to you. "Can we tag along?"

"If it's not too much of a bother." Shoji interjected, folding his duplicate arms over his chest. "We'd like to accompany you."

They were asking more for your benefit than his.

"Sure!!" Ojiro responded after sharing a look with you to make sure it was okay. "We'll need a car though to get there since taking a train isn't an option if we're bringing back a bed. Uh, does anyone know how to drive?"

Since no one raised a hand, they didn't have much of a choice and took a trek to the private room near the dormitory. A separate office building for the homeroom teachers.

Aizawa opened the door to his designated study and raised an eyebrow at the sight before him. You were standing on the other side, along with all the girls from Class 1-A, Ojiro, Kaminari and Shoji.

After you explained your plan to your homeroom teacher/temporary guardian, he begrudgingly agreed to take you all there, renting out a van large enough to hold the group of ten children and one very tired adult.

Since you were all minors, you needed to be escorted by a guardian after school let out. That was a new measure of safety instilled by the principal since the USJ incident and the attack at the training camp.

Naturally, Aizawa was the most suitable choice since he was the only adult who could tolerate all of you and your craziness on a daily basis.

The disgruntled teacher wandered around his office to collect his bag and capture weapon, grabbing something else on the way out.

To keep you from attracting too much attention, he had insisted that you cover your ears and hide your tail. He lent you a scarf but it didn't do much. Because you go excited easily, your ears would perk up and the fabric would fall off, usually blocking your vision.

He would've thought it was endearing if he wasn't busy worrying about how easily you could be kidnapped in a soft target, like the huge mall they were going to. It would be hard to protect you.

You came up with a solution. After you wrapped his scarf around your head, you put up the hood of Ojiro's hoodie to secure it, raising your arms cheerfully at your success.

His smile, borderlining on fond, faded as you bounded away towards Jirou. It wasn't like him to show so much emotion in front of his students and he needed to correct it before it got out of hand and he was subjected to, heaven forbid, his students' teasing.

Instead, when you were out of earshot, he instructed Ojiro not to leave your side. His student replied back that he wasn't planning on it since this was for your benefit. Not to mention, he really didn't want to be anywhere else besides your side.

Aizawa glanced at him out of the corner of his eye as his students piled into the van, noticing the color on the usually calm and composed teenager's cheeks for the very first time.

He shook his head, guessing what was going on relatively easily.

Kids these days.

Thirty very long minutes later, he had barely parked when the side door was being thrown open and you were practically dragged out by a very enthusiastic Ashido and Hagakure while a worried Yaoyorozu shouted for them to slow down.

Ojiro raced to catch up with them and Aizawa sighed, motioning for Shoji who had stayed seated out of consideration for him, that it was safe to leave now that he had turned the vehicle off.

Your eyes lit up with awe at the huge building before you packed with people that you were guessing was unique for a weekday judging by the expression on Jirou's face.

"This is pretty weird," She mused, tapping an earphone jack to her chin absentmindedly before dropping it in realization, expression clearing. "Ah, that explains it."

Following her gaze, you saw several signs advertising a huge sale taking place in most of the stores today in honor of Hero Day. You had no idea it was Hero Day, let alone that such a thing existed.

Together, you all eagerly ducked inside.

Aizawa lagged behind, not able to keep up with the energetic bunch. He opted for doing surveillance since he really didn't want to be here, but that was until you had begged him with puppy eyes to come along with.

And although he was tired and didn't really want to walk around and have to talk to people, he agreed for your sake. Warmth bloomed in his chest as he watched you interact with Yaoyorozu and Kaminari, and a fond smile pulled at the edge of his mouth.

Yeah, as long as it was you, he didn't mind.

Shoji soon broke off to go find some free weights that were at an acceptable price, and Asui and Uraraka tagged along with him as Yaoyorozu, Ashido and Hagakure high-tailed it into a fashion store.

Jirou tagged along with you, Ojiro and Kaminari, having nothing better to do and not really wanting to go off on her own.

Hands stuffed in his pockets, Aizawa trailed behind you as you walked towards the home goods store.

You wanted to laugh so badly.

Kaminari, Ojiro, Aizawa and Jirou were all positioned in a way around you that made you think they were your bodyguards. They certainly were acting like it.

Although, it was really cute how Kaminari was playing with Ojiro's tail, the latter being conscious not to move it too much unless it was to tickle his face.

Pure and wholesome.

Unbeknownst to you, Aizawa had already warned off several creepers with a sharp look that could kill. He didn't know why these guys decided to try their luck with you but he wasn't going to let them lay a finger on you.

Ojiro had grasped your hand the instant you stepped in the crowded mall and hadn't let go yet. You liked how his hand in yours felt, but you didn't want to feel like he needed to protect you all the time. You felt like it was a lot of trouble for him.

Although, the sentiment was sweet.

Once you got in the home goods store, you ran off towards the beds, shouting over your shoulder that you would be right back and that they could stay there. You knew exactly what you were going to get, you had seen it online just the other day and it was perfect.

Ojiro immediately went to go after you but you had promised to be back in a minute.

Kaminari toyed with the fluffy end of Ojiro's tail while they waited for you to finish picking out what you wanted. Jirou struck up a conversation with Aizawa about something he had taught in the lesson earlier that she still didn't quite understand, and that led to an in-depth but concise spontaneous lecture.

Ojiro's eyes didn't stray from where you had disappeared, waiting for you to come back. The area only had one entrance and exit, so no one could get you without them noticing at least.

But as a couple minutes passed, he was getting more worried. The more logical side of his brain told him that he was being irrational but he didn't care.

"Dude, she's only been gone for a few minutes, I'm sure everything's fine." Kaminari reassured him as his tail jerked out of his hand, flicking nervously back and forth.

But Ojiro shook his head, already making his way over to the back of the store where you most likely were.

"Jirou!!" He shouted over his shoulder, ignoring the strange looks he got as he called to his friend. "Where is she?!"

She looked puzzled, breaking off Aizawa with a quick apology. "What?"

"I... I've got a bad feeling," Ojiro couldn't explain it well but his eyes were frantic. "Can you find her?!"

Jirou shot him a look that said he was overreacting but obliged anyways, understanding where his concern was stemming from. "Yeah, of course, give me one second."

Plugging her jack into the floor, her brow knitted in concentration. Kaminari looked on and would've been impressed yet again by her quirk if she hadn't suddenly shot up to her feet, nearly knocking into his chin.

Jirou didn't offer the boys any explanation as she sped left, veering off to a part of the store Ojiro had completely missed before.

"This way!! Hurry!!"

They tore after her and catching on quickly, Aizawa dashed after them.

They may have only been his students inside the classroom but at this point he couldn't help but worry about them outside of it. He caught up to them within seconds, his strides longer than theirs, but what he saw as they all rounded the corner made his blood boil.

And the rage on Ojiro's face was portraying the exact level he felt.

You were being cornered by three boys who were much bigger than you, your hood off and scarf discarded on the floor, revealing the flattened ears against your head. Your tail was bristling as they advanced further, giving away your distress as though it wasn't already rolling off of you in waves. You were snarling at them, baring your canines threateningly but they continued to sling suggestive and hateful comments at you.

"Oooo, a wolf quirk, huh? You want me to call you puppy?" One of them sneered.

His buddy egged him on. "You have heats? I bet I could help you with that, baby."

"Freak." The last one spat, clearly angered for a reason you didn't understand.

You were close to tears but you didn't want them to get the satisfaction of seeing you cry. That was easier said than done as the angry one yanked your tail. Pain spiked through your body and you clapped a hand to prevent you from screaming as tears slipped down your cheeks.

"Aw, look. Puppy's crying." The big one taunted, smirking. "Don't worry, I'll take good care of you."

You snarled, though it lost its potency as you cried. "Get the hell away from me."

They poked and prodded you, egging you on until you felt like dying of humiliation.

They caught you off guard. It all happened so quickly, you didn't know where they came from. One minute you were looking at merchandise and the next, your front was pinned against the wall. You were able to get out of their hold before they did anything, but you weren't able to escape them entirely.

Cut off from your only escape route from the back of the store where there were literally no other people, you buried your face in your hands, wanting nothing more than to fight your way out of here but were held back by a deep-rooted rule ingrained in you.

Voices taunted you, grating against your ears as if you could hear them for real.

No fighting.

Listen to what your master says.

If you so much as scratch one of us, we'll put you down.

This is the price of being the monster that you are.

You wanted to defend yourself. You wanted to stand up for yourself. But you couldn't no matter how much you willed your feet to move. Resigning yourself to your fate, your shoulders stopped shaking and your eyes glazed over.

Their hands inched closer to you, veiled threats barely concealed and you willed your claws to retract.

You're worthless.

You'll never be free.

You'll always be someone's pet.

That's all you'll ever be good for.

Something made contact with your hair but as quickly as it came, it left. You blinked, the haze diminishing as you registered someone standing in front of you. Your eyes widened as his familiar scent flooded your senses.

The growl that emitted from Ojiro's chest would've sent you running for the hills if he was directing it towards you.

"Back the hell off." He hissed at the three scumbags, livid and fuming, his stance broad and tail curling around you protectively. "If you so much as look at her again, I will bury you six feet under."

The threat was so unlike his calm and easygoing personality that you actually whimpered, mistaking his anger for them towards you instead and he relaxed his stance for your sake.

In that split second, the boldest one out of them all saw him letting down his guard as an opportunity and took it. His hand shot out, intent on hitting you where it hurt the most: your ears.

In a flash, he was being electrocuted by volts that would've burnt him to a crisp if Jirou didn't retract her earphone jack and Kaminari ceased his electricity surge in time. Both of them had on two different degrees of disdain, but their anger was palpable.

"I really wouldn't suggest doing that again." Jirou said, narrowing her eyes at them. "Unless of course, you want to die."

Kaminari smirked, but it looked more deadly than anything else, his hands still sparking. "Please don't come any closer to her. If you do, I won't be responsible for what happens after."

Not very hero-like behavior, but neither student could bring themselves to care at the moment.

The trio took one look at the group defending you, along with a man behind them whose eyes were burning red and capture weapon floating towards them menacingly, and fled like the cowards they were.

The broken sob that bubbled past your lips had Ojiro gathering you in his arms, hugging you tightly.

"I've got you, princess." He murmured, stroking your hair. "You're safe now."

You whimpered again, this time in a lot more pain than before. "H-Hurts..."

His brow furrowed, and then he saw the source of your pain. You were grasping the base of your tail with one hand, desperately rubbing it, trying to ease the little shockwaves of agony still shooting through it.

"O-Ojiro... I-I can't." You pleaded even though you didn't know what exactly you were asking for. "Please, h-help me..."

His hand snaked down your spine until you stiffened and his hand came to a stand still on your lower back, just above your tail.

"Right here?" He asked softly, caressing that spot gently.

You sighed, leaning against him fully as relief flooded over your body. You couldn't find it. There always was a spot that could alleviate pain but you had never been able to pinpoint it.

It changed for every injury, making it rather difficult. You were glad he was there. That they were all there.

Thank you. You wanted to say but you couldn't find your voice. I was saved by him again.

Stretching up on your tip-toes, you hesitantly scented him. When he crooked his head to the side further to make it easier to you, you did it more enthusiastically, taking comfort in him as he continued to ease your pain.

After a minute, he brushed the tears away from your face, examining you closely. "Better?"

Your eyes were glossy but it was more from relief than pain.

"Mmhm," You hummed quietly, still a bit shaky. "Thank you..."

He gently kissed the top of your head, not able to bring himself to say anything just yet. He wanted to scold you for going off on your own but he knew you already probably blamed yourself. Besides, he was the one most at fault for leaving you alone. However much he wanted to protect you, he still wanted to respect your wishes and give freedom and you had wanted to try and do this one thing by yourself.

Perhaps there was a way you could come to a compromise but that discussion could come later. He didn't trust himself to speak, only hugging you tighter.

In addition, he really only cared about your wellbeing. At least now, you were safe.

The four of you went over to where Aizawa was making sure the trio didn't come back, turning to face you as you meekly tugged on the back of his shirt.

"You alright, kid?" He asked, eyes dark with an intensity that took you slightly by surprised.

You shakily nodded your head, swallowing hard.

Aizawa's shoulders slumped in relief. Other than the dimming wild look in your eyes, you seemed to be okay.

He leaned over as Jirou and Kaminari seamlessly took up guard while he attended to you.

"Did you recognize them?" He asked you lowly, so that no one else but you and Ojiro heard him.

You shook your head again, more confident this time. "I... I don't think so."

You knew he was indirectly asking you if those boys had been Quirk Traffickers. Of course, he would figure it out eventually, being an underground hero and all. It didn't take a lot for that kind of information to circulate when someone messed up a mark.

He bit back a scowl, not wanting to alarm you any further than you already were. Distracting himself, he picked up the discarded scarf he had given you earlier, shaking it off before wrapping it around your neck. He always felt better when he could hide his face in his capture weapon, and while he didn't know if it would do the same for you, he wanted to try and give you some semblance of comfort.

Luckily, Ojiro's presence seemed to be doing a pretty good job of keeping you calm.

Aizawa questioned you a bit more. What they looked like, how they approached you and what they said to you specifically and you told him all that you could remember; which regrettably, wasn't a lot.

It all happened so fast.

As you talked with Aizawa, Ojiro was left with his thoughts.

There was one thing that didn't add up but he was too afraid to ask. When they left, your tail had been safely tucked away from sight underneath the oversized hoodie of his you were wearing. Now, it was out in the open and he had a feeling you didn't take it out by yourself.

Either they had forced you to, or they had forced themselves on you, and he was not willing to entertain that thought any longer.

"Y/N," He called quietly to get your attention and your ears swiveled to show that you heard him. "Your tail."

You tensed up and faced him, cocking your head to the side with a puzzled look on your face.

Ojiro gestured to where it was poking out from underneath the layers of cozy fabric. "You tucked it away, right?"

Your face grew bright red in embarrassment but as you stammered out it was because you had been so excited at the prospect of buying your own bed that it had wagged out of its confines by itself before you could contain it, relief broke out on his face.

So it wasn't because of any of the other things he had thought of, that was good.

Jirou and Kaminari approached you as Aizawa gave them the okay once he checked you over, expressions flooded with worry.

You hastily reassured them that they were okay and thanked them for coming when they did, an embarrassed flush creeping up your neck clueing them in on your shame at having to be rescued.

Kaminari was dense and didn't notice it right away but Jirou elbowed him in the side, glancing pointedly at how your ears were drooped and his eyes cleared in understanding.

You clutched onto the black scarf wrapped around your neck, breathing in deeply. Coffee clung to the soft fabric and it brought a smile to your face. It smelled just like your da— Aizawa.

Shoot.

The five of you milled around the store, seeking out what you had originally come here for.

Well, you and Ojiro walked with Jirou and Kaminari while Aizawa stationed himself at the door. Just in case those boys decided to be dumb and come back.

You didn't know how you ended up smushed between Ojiro and Jirou with Kaminari in front of you, walking backwards so that he could talk to you, and yet, here you were.

Kaminari waved his hands frantically to keep your attention when your eyes strayed to a tag attached to a fancy pillowcase. He was currently in the middle of a mild breakdown now that it was all over.

"We got worried when you didn't show up, so we went to go look for you!!" He shouted, gesturing wildly to nothing in particular.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Jirou asked worriedly for the tenth time in the last five minutes but you weren't bothered by the repetition.

In fact, you felt rather touched that they cared so much.

You nodded, thanking them for protecting you again before curiously asking how they managed to find you so fast.

Before Jirou even got a chance to explain her quirk to you, Kaminari was interjecting, making broad and expressive hand gestures to gush about her abilities and your eyes filled with awe, as if you were hearing about one of the top heroes who had just won a battle against a villain.

Jirou turned away, obviously embarrassed by the pikachu's telling of the tale but you caught a small smile on her face and thanked her once more.

"I'm glad you're safe now." Was all she said before folding her arms over her chest and leaning against the nearest wall.

From here, she was within eyesight of Aizawa, since the three of you were heading towards another part of the store that he would be unable to see. Acting as a middleman, she pulled out her phone to entertain herself while she waited for you to finish getting what you needed.

Ojiro shook his head, amused as Kaminari took no notice of Jirou's departure and rambled on, taking you through all of the quirks that their classmates in Class 1-A had.

You nodded your head along eagerly, excitement seeping in and replacing the fear that had gripped your chest earlier.

Ojiro had to admit, he was sure Aizawa was going to chew them out for using their quirks without explicit permission, since it was a rule everyone had to abide by, but he was surprised when he didn't. The teenager had a feeling though that it was just pushed back until you were out of range to hear his scolding, since it would probably just serve to pile on the guilt more if he wasn't careful.

Still, he thought he saw a flash of pride in his teacher's eyes as they stood up for you. Maybe it had been his imagination.

Your eyes were starting to shimmer once again and your tail wagged as you spotted what you had been looking for all along.

Ojiro made sure to stay by your side, your hand in his as he twisted around, spotting Jirou striding towards you guys with Aizawa in tow.

"Uh, Y/N?" Kaminari's questioning tone made your ears perk up. "Why are we in the dog's section? I know you're part dog but isn't that a little—"

He cut off with a yelp as Jirou smacked him over the head for saying something so insensitive. But even she was dumbfounded when you beamed, holding up a medium-sized box proudly.

"Um, Y/N? You do know that's an inflatable dog bed, right?" Jirou asked cautiously, growing even more confused when you nodded enthusiastically. "I'm not sure that's—"

"That can't be your bed!!" Kaminari blurted out, incredulous.

You would barely fit on it, let alone the fact that it would be extremely uncomfortable. How would a pillow even stay on it?! Or blankets?!

Not to mention, static cling was the worst on these things.

Ojiro frowned sadly, hoping that this wasn't what they all thought it was. "Y/N?"

Your eyes were downcast and he tipped your chin up to him, his gaze sympathetic.

"What is it?" He inquired, not beating around the bush as he brushed a thumb against your cheek.

"I... I don't have a lot of money." You confessed and tensed after hearing a sharp intake of breath from Jirou. "All I have is just enough for this. I'm thankful I can even get this much."

Ojiro's horrified to hear you speaking like this. Like you were used to being devoid of simple necessities.

"I'll pay for it." He rushed out, gripping your shoulders, his tail jerking behind him. "Pick something more suitable, alright? You can choose whatever."

Sure, he could afford it. Since being enrolled in the prestigious hero school, he had saved up a lot of money and hadn't spent any of it. UA covered all of their expenses for food and housing, so this was the least he could do for you.

Your eyes went wide. "I can't let you do that!!"

He opened his mouth to insist when someone beat him to it.

"He can't but I can."

Aizawa stuffed his hands in his pants, shrugging nonchalantly as his students and foster daughter regarded him in shock. He may or may not overheard your conversation due thanks to Jirou's help.

"Go ahead but try not to take too long. We don't want to linger here." He jabbed a finger towards the entrance. "I'm going to keep watch to make sure they don't come back. Can I trust you three to watch over Y/N?"

"Yes, sir!!" They all chorused together.

You hesitantly browsed the shelves as he left you to it, making you promise to come and get him when you were ready to checkout.

"Ojiro-kun, is this really okay?" You asked timidly, playing with your fluffy tail self-consciously.

It was too sensitive for you to tuck away and you were growing nervous at how many people were staring at you. You exhaled shakily as he carefully intertwined his fingers with yours and tilted his neck, encouraging you to scent him.

You did so without much prompting, growing lax at his comforting scent washed over you.

"Aizawa-sensei wouldn't have offered if he didn't mean it." He told you, squeezing your hand reassuringly. "I'm sure he meant every word."

After wandering around aimlessly and getting distracted by the littlest things, Ojiro had to tug on your hand more than once to keep you on track. As much as he wanted to let you roam free, he did not want a repeat of what happened earlier. He would feel better once they went to a different store.

You, on the other hand, were forgetting the situation you had just been through and were throwing yourself into the hobby that was shopping, the new experience thrilling and exciting once you didn't have to be too worried about being cornered again thanks to their presence.

Kaminari was actually the one to find foldable cots, small and suitable for your room, not to mention, cost efficient. You eagerly enlisted his help in picking out one with a sturdy metal frame while Jirou selected a plush pad that you could store easily, making it easy to transport back to the dorm.

Ojiro found a comfy pillow for you and that marked the end of your little haul for this store.

At the register, Aizawa mysteriously showed up right on time to pay, even though Ojiro already had his wallet out and was ready to take care of it.

You giggled, poking his cheek as your tail batted his playfully. "Don't be sad, Ojiro-kun."

Yelping as he twined his tail around your waist to draw you close, you blushed as you felt his breath right by your ear.

"By the end of today, I will buy you something and you can't refuse it, okay?" He chuckled as you stared up at him cluelessly. "Consider it a welcome home gift."

You blushed, shyly thanking the cashier for your things and grabbing your bags. "A welcome home gift?"

He nodded, escorting you out of the store, the other two and Aizawa falling in step behind the four of you. "Since you're going to be staying with us now, we'll make sure you get a warm welcome."

Kaminari's eyes lit up excitedly and he nudged Jirou in the ribs. She rolled her eyes but even though she didn't show it as clearly, she most definitely matched his enthusiasm. They were both excited you were going to be staying with them for the foreseeable future.

Wait until they told the others.

Taglist: @katsukis-sad-angel

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baby-grayson · 4 years

Text

Sweet Enigma: Part 1

The year is 2023.

The date is January 1, 2023.

Kathleen Walker is sitting at her desk, in her lab. She is biting the nail of her right thumb while scrolling through a massive spreadsheet of data with her left hand. Above her, fifty-year-old fluorescent lights beam down with a gentle hum. She is alone, working through the New Year’s holiday to wrap up a project that will eventually change her career.

Behind her, mounted in the corner of the room, is a small box TV—maybe 13 inches wide at maximum. That TV was usually reserved for either mundane things, like the weather report, or extremely special occasions, like presidential inaugurations. On that night, Kate had flipped it to a random channel, E!News, providing her some comforting background noise in the dark and eerie laboratory. She grunts softly to herself, feeling as though she is thinking in circles.

The black of night had just fallen on the skyline of LA. Outside her small window, Kate could hear the consistent drumming of rain beating against the pavement. Kate despised the amount of rain LA got in the winter; it was a meek imitation of the wonderful snowfall in her beloved Philadelphia. The pouring rain only adds to her negative feelings about working through the night.

Her bad mood only worsened when the next E!News segment came on. Usually, when something crossed her path about Grayson Dolan, Kate was quick to change the channel or shut off her phone. Not because she harbored negative feelings towards Grayson, but because it wasn’t fair to hear about the life of her ex-boyfriend from third-party news sources, without an avenue to ask him herself or tell him about her new life. When the Dolan Twins would get themselves involved in the rare scandal or controversy, Kate would silently support them, remembering in her heart that they were good people.

And that’s all Grayson Dolan was, a memory. The kind of memory that Kate sometimes wondered if she was glamorizing in her mind, or if Grayson was truly as dreamy as she remembered him.

But Kate’s frustrations only grew when the peppy host on E!News started her latest segment from the small box TV.

“It has been two weeks since Grayson Dolan announced his engagement to fitness designer and model Sherry Maddox—” this is usually when Kate would roughly grab the remote and change the channel before any of the report’s words traveled to her brain. However, this time Kate slowly spun in her desk chair to see what Grayson’s new fiancé looked like.

Kate is greeted with the image of curvy, busty, blonde who looks something like a cross between Marilyn Monroe and a Disney Princess. She had bouncy blonde curls and a beauty mark on her upper lip. The TV showed a clip of her hanging onto Grayson’s arm at some event. Kate is struck by Grayson’s image: he really is as every bit of gorgeous as she remembered him.

Kate brusquely turned around—disinterested, a bit bitter, and ready to get back to her work. She quickly grabbed the remote and muted the TV after hearing the words, “Grayson Dolan is scheduled to celebrate his new engagement to fitness designer and model Sherry Maddox tonight. The pair are reported to be planning their wedding in Califor—” Kate stopped the sound before the reporter could continue.

Kate took a deep breath before returning to her computer. She tried to get back to work. She sincerely tried to grab her calculator and punch in some numbers. Her own brain betrayed her. She dropped the calculator on the surface of her desk and sighed. She huffed and puffed, unsatisfied with her own performance that night.

Her head lifted when she heard a drumming noise coming from the hallway. She thought she was the only person working late on New Years’ day.

Before she can stand from her chair to investigate, a man barrels through the door. She freezes in fear, suddenly acutely aware of the dangers that working alone harbors. In an instant, her pulse quickens to a dangerous rhythm. If she were calm, she would grab her work phone and quickly dial campus police. She is too frozen in fear to move. But her fear fades into awe as she recognizes the sharp jawline of his face and the gold flecks in his eyes—he looked as if he was pulled straight out of her memories from Summer 2020.

Grayson’s eyes hold a veil of panic as he stares back at Kate. He lost his breath for a moment.

This gives Kate the opportunity to peer down and see Grayson dressed in button down shirt and printed, velvet suit pants. A much more formal outfit than anything she had ever seen him in.

Grayson’s mind finds an air bubble of clarity as he drowns in Kate’s big brown eyes, plush round mouth, and the wisps of hair escaping from her ponytail to frame her face. “I’m sorry,” his voice sounded as frantic as that moment felt, “I didn’t know what to do, “He ran his fingers through his hair, clearly disturbing his hair sprayed droop. He took in a hard breath and licked his lips, “I don’t know what I’m doing. But I know what I’m doing,” he nodded softly with wide eyes, “I needed to see you. Now. With everything that’s happening. I needed to see you. To see you like here to like in person. Sherry’s been going crazy since…well she flew her sister Coral out for tonight and was mad when I gave my mom the guest room and not Coral, even though she’s pregnant, and my mom kept complaining that our colors were dark for an engagement party and we needed more flowers but Sherry doesn’t like any of the florists in LA and Ethan kept telling me to hold it together this is just the energy of the moment but it’s not the energy of the moment it’s the energy of everyday and this is going to be the everyday for the rest of my life and I—well I—” Grayson was breathing as if he had just run a marathon.

“Gray—son” Kate finished, not being comfortable using his nickname when he was basically a stranger. “What are you doing here?” Grayson inhaled deeply and looked down at her. He met her eyes. His gaze lost its wild veil for a moment as he said surely, “Two and a half years ago, I said goodbye to you because I knew I wasn’t ready for the kind of love you brought into my life. Well today, I’m ready for that kind of love but I’m engaged to someone who reminds that I will never get back everything I lost when I gave you up.”

“What are you talking about?” Kate gaped, looking from Grayson’s shoes and back to his face, as if she could find the answer on his body. Grayson took in a few ragged breaths while she folded her face in confusion. A million questions ran through Kate’s mind in that moment, but the one that made its way to her lips was “How did you even find me?”

Grayson licked his lips, which were dry from hoarding hot breaths “The school was closer than your apartment,” he strategically avoiding noting that his memories placed Kate’s apartment on the more hostile side of LA, “Google gave me your office number,” he exhaled and held his palms out, “I just hoped you were here.”

“What would you have done if I wasn’t?” Kate’s brown eyes looked up wide, her voice was low and grounded.

Grayson closed his mouth into a tight line, “I—I don’t know.”

Kate had a valid question. If Grayson hadn’t found her working late on New Year’s Day, would he have returned to his engagement part, and his life with Sherry? Truthfully, he really didn’t know the answer. In choosing to escape from his ensnared life, he let his heart make decisions over his mind. His heart didn’t think things through, it only sought out the last person to make him truly happy: Kate.

Kate broke their silence first. “What do you want to do now?”

“I don’t know.” Grayson’s voice was more breath than sound.

Kate’s eyes locked on Grayson’s, for the first time in two and a half years they shared each other’s gaze. Kate’s heart dove into her body, suddenly remembering the feeling of Grayson’s fingertips tracing her naked skin on Sunday mornings, his lips finding comfort on hers for the first time in his van, and the vision of the sunlight dancing off of his bone structure in the early morning on the beach. The emotional unrest of the moment took hold in her mind. No matter where he had been, Grayson was once the other half of her heart: he was clearly hurting, and she wanted to fix it.

Kate stood up and abruptly started shoving her computer and things into her backpack, “Where are you parked?” She held a sense of urgency in her voice.

Grayson shook his head quickly, “I ran.” Kate stopped packing to look up at him, bewildered, “You ran?”

Grayson nodded, “Yeah I ran,” he passed a hand from his forehead to his hair. It was then that Kate noticed the his damp hair, and the drops of water falling from the collar of his button down shirt. Kate wanted to ask how far he had come but decided that his disshelved look was enough of an answer. She opened her desk drawer to grab her keys and told him, “We’ll take my car” Grayson’s eyes held a sort of innocent uncertainty, “Where are we going?”

Kate looked at the ground, her backpack slung around one shoulder and her keys in her palm. She sucked her lips in quickly, and exhaled. That was a great question, where were they going? Where would they go? Where do an exhausted PhD student and her wayward, engaged, famous ex-boyfriend belong?

They stood there for a moment, in silence and contemplating what the best next move was. Across town, Grayson’s family and fiancé would tell him that the best place for him would be at his extravagant engagement party; Grayson’s heart knew that any place was better than that party. Kate’s senses told her to drop him off at home; but something about being with Grayson lit a fire deep in her. They stood there: shells of two people who were once in love but had been worn and changed by the courses of the individual lives.

Kate looked up at Grayson. He looked so much like what she remembered but decorated in the strokes of a forlorn man: messy hair frizzing at the edges, a heaving chest, wide eyes, swollen lips. Kate gulped hard, recognizing that the last time she had seen Grayson like this, was the last time she had seen Grayson at all.

Grayson sucked in a breath, wondering if he had brought Kate back to reality. He rocked on his heels subtly, wondering if he was testing her kindness by asking her to give comfort to his aching heart. At that moment, his brain realized that Kate might not have even known about his engagement. He closed his eyes quickly, becoming acutely aware of how much he was expecting out of her when, in the current moment, she was only a kind stranger.

Kate exhaled when Grayson closed his eyes. The tension of her heart strings wanted to tether him to her, until he looked like a capable man again. “My place” she announced, “We’ll go to my place.”

The car ride to Kate’s apartment was eerily silent. Kate’s mind was as full of questions for Grayson as Grayson’s was with questions for Kate. What had happened after they broke up? Had they both been okay? What did okay mean anymore? Did you think about me after we ended things? Do you still think about me now? The answer to that last one was obvious to Kate, Grayson had to still be grasping onto some piece of them to come to her on the night of his engagement party, professing his love for the woman he hadn’t seen in years.

The rain pounded on Kate’s windshield, filling the car with a consistent drumming noise. The sound of the rain highlighted the lack of sound coming from the pair.

Kate still lived in the same apartment she had when she first moved to LA. Grayson noticed how much homier it seemed then, two and a half years later. Kate’s space was still filled with IKEA furniture, but it had been decorated in throw blankets, house plants, and polaroids with her new friends. It was having been a cozy apartment, had it not been filled with the memories of the tainted spaces from that faithful summer.

When they approached her front door, Grayson was caught by the memory of standing on the other side of the door while Kate was stranded in her own bathroom. When Kate inserted her key and turned the deadbolt, Grayson was washed by the sensation of kissing Kate the first night he apologized to her, feeling her towel slip off and hit the ground as they moved toward her bed. When he stepped in the doorway, he was hit by the feelings crawling out of Kate’s apartment after ruining their morning by placing terms and conditions on their relationship.

Kate moved forward, unaware of the conglomeration of thoughts and emotions bombarding Grayson’s brain. She dropped her backpack under the table, laid a hand on its surface and leaned on it. Her mouth went dry when she tried to speak, “Do you want a change of clothes? Or something?” Grayson looked down at himself, now suddenly aware of the wet mess he looked like. His black velvet pants were soaked and ruined, and his shirt was so wet that it clung to his body like a wet shirt at the beach. Any other day, Grayson would have been slightly proud of the bulge of his muscles under the thin fabric. Today, it made him look like the kind of mess he felt. He opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted by the sound of a key turning in the front door. Grayson looked confused. He turned to Kate, wondering if she had gotten a roommate in the time since he had last visited.

Kate’s head whipped around to face the front door; her eyes went wide. The person on the other side of the door fumbled with their key in the lock.

“Shit,” she muttered.

“What is—” Grayson didn’t finish his question because Kate grabbed his arm and quickly ushered him into the bathroom. She shoved him threw the bathroom door and sent him hurdling toward the back wall.

“Just—just wait here,” she took in harsh breaths and closed the door on him, trapping him in the bathroom.

Frantically, she tried to position herself in a way that looked as close to normal—as if that night was anything normal. She leaned against her dining room table, laying a gentle hand on the corner. She picked up a banana, in hopes trying to appear as if she belonged in the scene—of her own apartment.

As the lock on Kate’s front door opened, a tall young man with a bright smiled walked through the door. He kept his hair trimmed tight, even though it held a close curl to his head. He had a wide nose and kind eyes. Wesley was objectively good looking: not the Greek God that Grayson Dolan was, but still an attractive man.

Wesley slipped in the doorway with a smile, none the wiser to the soaking Dolan being hidden in Kate’s bathroom. “Hey Katie,” he smiled and walked over to kiss her cheek, “didn’t think you’d be here tonight.”

Wesley Brooks was a medical student, hoping to become a neurosurgeon. He met Kate at a party last summer, about six months ago. He had instantly fallen for her big brown eyes and joyful laughter.

Wesley had quickly become a staple in Kate’s life: he would run coffee to her when she was working late, cover for her when she slept in too late, and give her his containers of duck sauce when they ordered Chinese food because he knew how much she loved it.

As a couple, Wesley and Kate made sense. They were both beautiful, brilliant, driven, and young. Kate sometimes felt out of place at school, where most of her peers came from wealthy families and privileged backgrounds: Wesley was one of the few people who could relate to her. He had grown up in rural Georgia and went to college on a generous, philanthropic scholarship.

Kate gave Wesley the key to her apartment about four months ago, when classes had started up again. Wesley regularly stopped by to start making dinner while Kate cleaned up her lab, or to water her plants when he knew she was having a busy week. That night, Wesley stopped by to pick up his gym bag, that he left in her coat closet, before he headed off for a late-night cardio session.

He walked into the room with a graceful step. He kissed her cheek quickly. Kate threw her shoulders back and stiffened her jaw. “You doing alright Katie?” Wesley’s voice was warm and sweet, triggering Kate’s stomach to start lurching.

She nodded quickly as Wesley walked over to the coat closet to grab his bag, “Yeah, just stress. I’m still finishing that project,” her voice wavered no less than three times over the course of that sentence.

Wesley threw the duffel bag around his shoulder and looked back at her, “I’m surprised you’re home honestly, I thought you’d be pulling another all-nighter. Make sure you eat dinner and get some sleep tonight, okay?” He smiled at her from the corner of the room. Kate nodded erratically, “I will,” she threw him a half-hearted smile. “Love you Katie,” Wesley said with his hand on the doorknob. He walked out of the room as she muttered a meek, “Love you too”.

Grayson slowly crept out of his clandestine hiding place in the bathroom. He had heard every word while dripping water onto Kate’s bathmats.

“You have a boyfriend?” Grayson’s question was more of a statement.

Kate exhaled and closed her eyes, hoping that the tension of the moment would disappear if she pretended it wasn’t there.

“I’m sorry,” Grayson started, “I’m so so sorry.” His lips curled. “I should have never left the party, I should have---I could have---I—” “It’s alright Grayson,” Kate’s voice was sure and confident in her answer.

She took in a deep breath, “Let’s go, let’s not—be here anymore.” She hated herself for fearing another intrusion from Wesley.

That Malibu beach remained the same since the last time they visited: embracing on a towel after declaring their love for each other for the first time. Neither one of them was sure who suggested they take refuge on its shores, but it was the perfect place for Grayson and Kate to be alone on that January night.

The rain soaked into the sand, muffling out the drumming noise. The dark sky was not suitable for a midnight walk, so the pair found shelter under a large boulder. They sat down, each not wearing anything that was acceptable for a beach. Sand sneaked its way into Grayson’s dress shoes. Kate’s leggings were being soaked by the wet terrain.

She moved first, looking at him as the wind whipped her dark locks around her head. Her voice was earnest and sincere, “What happened Grayson?”

“After we broke up, I—I didn’t exactly know what to do. I thought about you all the time, nearly every day. But I knew that wouldn’t do my any good.” Grayson thumb at a where the sand met his wet pants. He exhaled roughly.

He spoke the next part with a vigorous sureness in his voice for the first time that night “I didn’t know—At first, I threw myself into my work: I took up some directing projects, poured energy into Wake heart projects-- I worked with Ethan to design a clothing label. We wanted to remind people to stay positive and keep smiles on their faces.”

He took a deep breath and nearly mumbled his next few words, “It’s ironic, smiles were so much emptier without you.”

“Eventually, I-I shook myself out of it and started seeing some ….people, started trying to work on all those things that I stupidly did to you back in the day.” He wiped sand from his hands and turned his eyes to the ground, not wanting to have Kate, even in his peripheral vision as he continued.

“I met Sherry about a year and a half ago; she went to an event as someone’s plus one. We started dating like right away. She understood. Not-Not understood me in the way that you do-- did of course, only Ethan comes close to that. But she really understood what kind of pressure was on me with all the businesses and the attention. She always wanted a family, she said that on our first date. I proposed at Thanksgiving, I figured there was no reason not to be with a woman who not only understood my lifestyle but wanted to start a family like me.”

He shook his upper body, as if trying to shake off the raindrops from his messy figure. He looked up from the ground to meet Kate’s gaze as the wind whipped her hair around her face. It was an enchanting image: the sight of her on a beach at midnight; the kind of image that would come to him in his most feverish, rare dreams. She was everything feminine and sweet, with eyes that could offer him comfort after any plight: so different from everything else in his world: his sweet enigma. He swallowed hard and licked his lips, his voice took on a breathy, desperate tone.

“But there is a reason. And that reason is you, Kate.”

#kind stranger #book 2 #grayson dolan #dolan twins #fanfic #grayson x oc #grayson dolan x oc #concept #blurb #ethan #ethan dolan #long fic #series

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