#and he put The Hideous Hidden on hold and went away | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cyren-myadd · 2 months

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Could you make a Quaritch ticklish fic with his son Spider, please?

I've never gotten a request before! I hope you enjoy:

“Hey, Quaritch, look at this!”

Quaritch looked up from where he was washing his sweat-soaked tank top in a small stream at the sound of Spider’s voice. It took him a moment to spot him crouched among a bunch of oversized ferns, with something cradled in his hands. He couldn’t tell exactly what it was from his position. When Spider saw he had his attention, he very, very slowly stood and walked over to Quaritch with his mysterious prize hidden in his arms.

Alarm bells immediately went off in Quaritch’s head and his ears twitched up in alarm. Spider never did anything “very, very slowly,” so there had to be a reason for it. The shit eating grin on his face gave Quaritch the sneaking suspicion that whatever the reason was, he wasn’t going to like it.

Quaritch went back to cleaning his top and hoped Spider would get bored and leave him alone, but he had no such luck. To his dismay, Spider marched right up to him and gently displayed his hands with a soft, “ta da!”

“Ugh!” Quaritch didn’t bother trying to hide his disgust at the sight of the hideous little creature in Spider’s hands: it looked like the nightmarish offspring of a scorpion and a hornet, and it was about the size of a small dog. Coarse, wiry hair covered its spindly legs, and a wicked-looking stinger hovered mere centimeters above the unprotected skin of Spider’s palm. Quaritch’s ears flattened back in revulsion. Why such a beast would ever need to exist was beyond him. God, he hated this damn planet.

Spider snickered at his reaction. “You like it?”

“No! What the hell even is that? Why are you holding it?” Quaritch leaned away from Spider warily. He wouldn’t put it past the kid to try and throw it at him for shits and giggles. “Put that thing back where you found it before it stings you for Christ’s sake!”

“The Na’vi call it kalwey. Humans call it tarantula-wasp.” Spider explained, calmly letting the little nightmare crawl over his arms.

“If this is your way of asking for a pet, the answer is no.”

“Kalwey isn’t a pet. It’s a game!”

Quaritch stared balefully down at Spider and his new “friend.” He didn’t even want to ask. In the end, he didn’t need to ask because Spider continued explaining anyway.

“So, kalwey have a venom for hunting their prey. It’s harmless to Na’vi and humans, but it sure stings a lot. The Omaticaya have a game where you take turns holding the kalwey to prove you can stay calm under pressure, ‘cause the kalwey is easily startled, but it won’t sting as long as you keep your cool, see?” Sure enough, Spider stayed relaxed and the kalwey crawled up and down his arms without threatening to sting. It even crawled all the way up to his head and onto the plexiglass of his exopack. The damned thing was so big Quaritch couldn’t even see Spider’s face behind it, but he didn’t need to see to know he was still grinning like an idiot.

“Well, that’s great, kid. I’m so glad you were raised by people who think this is a good past-time.” He responded dryly.

“Wanna play with me?”

“No.”

“Aww, why not?” Spider whined while the kalwey migrated to the top of his head. It must’ve thought his dreadlocks were a good place to nest, because it folded up its legs and sat there like the world’s ugliest hat.

“Because this is ridiculous. Put it back.”

“What’s the matter? You scared?”

“I said, put it back.”

“You know, Jake is, like, really good at this game. It’s probably impossible to beat him…”

The mention of Sully instantly made Quaritch narrow his eyes. He stared Spider down for a long minute. Then, he heaved a heavy sigh and stuck out one hand. “Fine. Give me the damn bug.”

“Ha!” Spider crowed victoriously before gently removing the kalwey from its perch on his head and placing it into Quaritch’s palm.

Quaritch grimaced at the feel of its hairy little feet digging into his skin. Then, to his horror, it started crawling up his arm. He held his arm away from his body, hoping to discourage the creature from getting closer to him, but he had no such luck. It scuttled over the eagle tattoo and reached his shoulder, putting it uncomfortably close to his face. He realized he should’ve put his tank top back on before agreeing to play this ridiculous game, but it was too late to do anything about it now. All he could do was watch as the creature inched closer to his unprotected torso.

“Spider…”

“Just relax! The rule is that you have to let the kalwey go where it wants.” Explained Spider, who looked like he was enjoying Quaritch’s discomfort immensely.

Quaritch was about to tell Spider to take the damned thing off of him before it reached his neck, but then Spider said with a smug little smirk, “don’t tell me you’re scared?”

“Of course not!” Quartich snapped, mentally resigning himself to letting the kalwey have free reign of his body until Spider got bored of the game. He had a pretty short attention span. Hopefully, this would get old for him soon.

To Quaritch’s relief, when the kalwey reached his collarbone, it didn’t crawl up onto his neck, but instead went down onto his chest. Then, Quaritch found himself wishing it had crawled onto his neck when it reached his sides. Eight tiny, prickly feet dug into his striped blue skin as it crawled up and down.

Quaritch pressed his lips together in a tight line. His tail twitched and his chest started to shake. He prayed the little monster would move down onto his legs, which were protected by his pants, but unfortunately, it seemed to like skittering over his belly and his sides. Quaritch jammed his fist against his lips as his shoulders started to shake even harder.

Spider’s impish grin faded as he watched Quaritch shake. “Uh… are you okay?”

“Take it— take it off.” Quaritch wheezed through clenched teeth.

“What?”

“I said, ta– ake it off,” he repeated, his voice strained.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“Spider—” he snapped in irritation, and suddenly, he couldn’t hold it in anymore. A small laugh escaped him that made his belly shake. “Aha, ha!”

Spider recoiled in surprise. It was the first time he’d ever heard him laugh. He probably hadn’t even thought Quaritch could laugh.

Unfortunately, the way Quaritch’s body shook from struggling to hold in his laughter upset the kalwey. It let out a warning hiss at having its exploration disturbed, and raised its wicked stinger menacingly.

“Spider, now!” Quaritch barked between strained laughs.

Right before the creature could sting him, Spider snapped out of his surprise and smacked it off his body so fast it didn’t have time to strike. Once the kalwey was gone, all the laughs Quaritch had been holding back finally escaped him.

“Ha, ha, ha— oh, hell!” He wheezed out a deep belly laugh before quickly sobering up into a scowl.

Spider stared up at him in confusion. “Quaritch?”

“Don’t ever ask me to do something like that again. That’s an order.” He snapped. His skin itched with the memory of little feet scampering over his skin.

“Wait a minute…” Spider began slowly. The confused look on his face was quickly giving way to something much more mischievous. It was a look Quaritch definitely didn’t like. “Are you ticklish?”

“No, I am not ticklish.” Quaritch glowered down at Spider, whose grin was growing wider by the second.

“Yuh-huh, you totally are!”

“I’m not a child, Spider. Of course I’m not ticklish. Now, come on, let’s get back to the rest of the squad.” Quaritch grabbed his wet tank top and quickly turned to leave, hoping if he changed the subject fast enough Spider would forget about the whole affair.

He didn’t make it five steps before a small set of hands dug into his sensitive sides. It startled him so much that he let out a small squeal of a laugh— a sound so unmanly it was downright shameful. The embarrassing little giggle was quickly drowned out by Spider bursting into laughter.

“Holy shit, you are ticklish! Ha!” He guffawed.

“You little—!” With a growl of embarrassment, Quaritch whipped around to scowl at him. He couldn’t believe Spider actually had the audacity to tickle him. Fucking tickle him. Quaritch was a colonel for Christ’s sake, not one of his little Na’vi friends to play around with.

While Spider continued to laugh at his expense, Quaritch scrambled to come up with the appropriate reaction to his behavior. If one of his subordinates had ever dared to tickle him, he would’ve had them court martialed faster than they could say Jack Robinson. But Spider wasn’t one of his subordinates. He couldn’t exactly court martial a teenager with no rank. Technically, Spider was a prisoner of war, but no POW would ever be in a position to mess with a colonel. Besides, Quaritch didn’t really want to treat him like a POW. At a loss for how to discipline him for his insubordination, all he could do was continue to glare at him disapprovingly while he howled with mean-spirited laughter.

“Alright, that’s enough. Shut up and come back to camp with me.” Quaritch ordered. He hoped the warning tone in his voice would be enough to make Spider forget this ever happened, but Spider either didn’t notice or didn’t care that he was on thin ice.

“Oh my god, the big bad Colonel Quaritch is ticklish! Who knew this was your weakness all along?” Spider snickered.

Quaritch turned to stomp back to camp, and this time Spider barely waited for his back to turn before a sneaky little hand snaked towards his exposed side. Unfortunately for Spider, this time Quaritch was ready for him. Before he could tickle him again, Quaritch seized his wrist and pinned the giggling Spider to the ground.

“Let’s see how you like it!” Quaritch snapped before he dug his fingers into Spider’s sides just how he’d dug his hands into his. Nothing happened. He changed tactics and tried to get a reaction by lightly tickling his belly and then his armpits, but it didn’t work. Instead of helplessly laughing, Spider just smirked.

Quaritch sat back on his haunches, but kept a hand on Spider to keep him pinned. “You’re not ticklish.”

“Nope! Just you.” Despite being pinned to the ground by someone who could easily crush his ribcage, Spider didn’t look worried at all. In fact, he was grinning so wide he looked like the cheshire cat.

Quaritch’s ears twitched down in embarrassment. What the hell was he doing? He was squatting in the mud trying to tickle his captured translator like an idiot; he was making a fool of himself! When Spider had tried to tickle him again, he hadn’t thought it through, he’d just reacted, wrestling him to the ground on instinct. Why was this of all things his first instinct? This wasn’t any way to treat a subordinate, and it certainly wasn’t a way to treat a POW. If anything, this was— Quaritch’s tail flicked upwards as he realized where he’d seen this before. A hazy, half forgotten memory swam to the surface of his borrowed psyche: a much younger, much more human Miles Quaritch play-fighting with his father long, long before he’d ever even heard of a place called Pandora. With a jolt, Quaritch realized that Spider looked a lot less like a POW getting chewed out for messing with his captor, and a lot more like a young Miles smiling as he played with his dad.

Quaritch didn’t know how he felt about that.

Before he could make up his mind, a small hand snuck past his defenses and pinched his side, sending him into another fit of compulsive laughter. Spider crowed in delight at successfully tickling him again.

“Boy, if you don’t cut that out—!” Quaritch cried, but this time there was no venom in his tone. He let his inner turmoil go and let his instincts take over. Scooping Spider up into his arms, he put him in a headlock and rubbed his knuckles into his dreadlocked head.

“Hey, get off!” Spider protested as he tried to squirm out of his grip, but there was no real urgency to it.

This wasn’t the first time Quaritch had held Spider, but it was the first time he’d done so without Spider genuinely fighting to get away from him. Though Spider pushed back against his over-sized arms, his movements were playful and he laughed as he did it. It was nice, Quaritch realized. He liked the feeling of holding Spider and knowing he wasn’t scared; knowing he trusted Quaritch not to hurt him.

Once Spider started to tire from pushing against Quaritch’s much stronger arms, Quaritch swung him back onto his feet and let him go. “Alright, you little knucklehead. You’ve had your fun, but if you go trying to poke me again, I’m gonna throw you in the creek, you hear me?”

“Aye, aye, captain.” Spider replied with a sarcastic salute.

They started to walk back towards where the other recoms were setting up camp for the night. Before they were in ear shot, Spider shot Quaritch a sly grin. “So, does the rest of the squad know you’re ticklish?”

Quaritch lightly smacked his leg with his tail as he walked by. “Remember what I said about throwing you in the creek?”

Laughing, Spider threw up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. Your secret is safe with me, old man!”

#avatar #atwow #avatar the way of water #avatar fanfiction #spider socorro #avatar spider #atwow spider #miles quaritch #colonel quaritch #avatar quaritch #atwow quaritch

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danddymaro · 3 years

Text

Conflicted | Vincent Sinclair x Reader

Fandom: House Of Wax

The reader wants to run away, but there's just one thing that stops her. (She's conflicted, hence, the title )

A/N:

Thoughts are in italics and quotations // ‘ Example,’

Flashback are all in just Italics

Word Count :1407

Conflicted

He'd underestimated her, unaware that beneath the softness that lay beneath the (s/c ) flesh was well-hidden strength that was both raged and brute.

She was quick in movement, and if it weren't for the annoying pain that pushed him back every time she delivered a strike, he might have watched in more wonder and surprise.

The massive man was then put down, somehow landing on his back as he was given a slingshotted fist to his right cheek.

It had been her last blow before she decided to flee, but during then, his hand caught her wrist, which ended with him pulling her, forcing her to stay while restrained by an iron grip that shook.

It was an angered force, one she shuttered at, because she was certain that it was brought forth by his intent to kill.

The thickened air of the room became suffocating as the bursting adrenaline that had fueled her to take action no longer ran through her threads of scarlet. It all left her at the unfortunate moment, and she was left like a devastated rabbit, knowing of its demise and terribly afraid, but left motionless in wait.

However, in spite of the devastating hold, there was no violence that fueled him, but rather, fear.

She was strong, he'd give her that, but nothing hurt more than the panging in his chest as he realized that no matter what he did, she would never want to stay.

- Not with him.

Not with a hideous monster who hid behind a crafted mask that now crumbled like brittle, decayed leaves of the autumn season within a closing palm.

' Don't go.

Don't go

Please...don't go. '

He lamented, all while lingering in the same silence he had all his life.

He held onto her tightly and as he expected, she thrashed.

She continued to resist against him, but rather than hold the same certainty that had surged her before, there was now a clear as day panic and fear that drove her, forcing her to move like an animal dragged into imprisonment.

And throughout the entire struggle, he could see the fear that swirled within her pretty (e/c) colored eyes before the sentiment manifested into heavy globs that rained upon him.

He suddenly felt the tiny specs touch his flesh, and it was only then that he realized that the blank mask was no longer, becoming just a mess of pieces that decorated his knotted, crow-colored hair as it lay sprawled beneath him.

- And his heart stilled, his body shivering as he watched her face register his disfigurement.

He watched her wide, panicked eyes somehow open up more, all to a point he was certain it must have hurt.

" You…" she breathed as her body suddenly melted, soon becoming subdued and weak, and he wasn't sure what she felt most, whether fear or disgust as she processed the sight, because the wide-eyed gaze held a range of emotions that all merged together into a muddled blend.

' This...This is what you've been hiding,' she thought to herself, staring down at the scarred flesh, wondering what had been the cause of it, and much more, if he felt any pain at all from it.

She continued to cry as she watched him, and although he had only one eye visible to return the look, it was a large enough window to his soul that showed her all of the instabilities that lay within the man.

She had not seen sunlight in what felt like an eternity, knowing nothing but silence and the man who accompanied it throughout the entire time. All she had come to know was the quiet man who brought her meals, the very same one who petted her and gazed at her for long hours without end.

She wanted to escape, to run far and never return, and yet, all the same, she began to feel warmth by his caresses.

She'd quickly become expectant of his gaze, and was more than happy to sit in silence with another individual that seemed just as content as she was by the simplicity of another human's presence.

And she wondered if it was strange to feel so... comfortable and serene during the nightmarish imprisonment.

'Is it really a nightmare?' she then wondered, her sentiments similar to that of a caged bird.

She was stared at with awe, tended to with a care that was soft and genuine, and yet, she lacked the ability to spread her wings.

She missed the outside world.

She missed her freedom, but she relished within his worship.

' No...No' she thought herself. ' I have to get out of here,' she reasoned, sickened by the warped nature of her mind, all for romanticizing such a sickening truth.

Her delicate smile twitched with uncertainty, all while his fingers threaded through her (h/c) hair, gently weaving through knotted bits that formed in her sleep.

' What's wrong with me?' She went on, her stomach clenching at the shutter that was performed as his hand then found her flesh and the surprisingly soft palm caressed her face.

Her eyes fluttered close, and she inhaled a low breath that picked up her thudding chest, all in hopes to calm the unsteadied and wild beat.

She soon opened her (e/c) colored eyes and stared right at wax lips, her own true ones trembling as his thumb lightly grazed the pouty flesh of her mouth.

' This is sick,' she went on, feeling her legs tremble as the towering man dared to come closer, gravitating closer with a tilted head that was cocked out of interest that had been peeked by her breathy, trembling state.

' He's a monster!' She inwardly cried as she looked on at the blank mask, trying hard not to think of how somehow, his single eye managed to glow and express so much more than any other man could with an entire face exposed out to the world.

Sadness and sorrow, loneliness and longing were all silent messages that were sent to her through the dim, yet sky-colored beauty and with a longing glance to them, the woman regained the consciousness needed to return to the present time.

She recalled just why she'd become so feral, and just how she ended up in the position she was now,

straddling him, crying and trembling, and locked eyes with the single blue orb.

- Fear and abandonment, she could read it them both, and she hated how hard it was for her to draw back.

She could see it all clearly, and it was then that her body completely gave in, falling onto him suddenly.

" What's happening to me?" she breathed brokenly, her aching chest becoming unbearable.

Her shaky breaths fanned over the flesh of his neck, each warm exhale heating his flesh in a way that made his body shudder.

" Why do I want to stay here?" She said in a small, waved tone, "Why…? She asked again, wanting an answer.

"Why do I keep thinking of you?" she breathed, "Why is it that when I think about running far away, my heart practically bleeds at the thought of leaving you behind?" She said through grit teeth, already well aware, but not wanting to accept it just yet.

Warm droplets rained on his flesh, and silently, he looked up at the ceiling, not quite ignoring her, but rather, taking in all of her troubles.

As she continued to cry, holding him dearly with a shaken conflict, he continued to stare up at the ceiling, processing it all.

His chest then vibrated, and little huffs left him as he slowly understood it the only way he could, and it was that somehow, she'd become just as connected to him as he had with her.

"...I don't want to go," she finally admitted, and when she said that, his soft breaths became more hearty, and for once in his life, true laughter fell past him.

Through his disbelief that was invaded by merriment, he then looked up at her, gazing at her as she watched him with the same distress.

"Stay..." he finally rasped out, begging in his unused voice.

The salted shower continued to fall, uninterrupted even as she fisted his clothing, holding onto him tightly as she moved to press her lips to his.

The last of her resistance was washed away with the single touch, and soon after, she only presented him with give.

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linksacryptid · 2 years

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hi yes this is oc number one of sixty-five (for now) his name is Kazren E.H. Kingston and he is traumatized:

Kazren is my oldest oc, both in the real world (8 years!), and in his world. He’s 2,000 years old and in the best shape of his life. He’s 6’6”, and built like a brick shit house. He’s got long, bright red hair that goes mad and curls at the slightest bit of humidity. (aka its always curly as hell) The hair goes all the way down his back.

He obviously takes fairly good care of himself, without obsessing over any detail too much. He wears exclusively hideous hawaiian shirts with a leather jacket over it, well loved jeans, and work boots with black laces that have seen better days. He’s got one icy blue eye (right eye) that almost glows softly in low light settings. His left eye seems to be made of black glass, and seems to hold all of eternity and nothing all at once. It's simply mesmerizing if you gaze into it. His left eye is usually closed, however, and has a long scar running across it, from below his hairline to just above his lip.

His teeth are white and his skin is not so white, after many years of hard work in the sun. He never takes off a black cord that's around his neck. It holds two simple iron rings, a series of dog tags from various wars, and a single gem held in a glass vial.

BACKSTORY TIME

He was born the son of a Norse King. He ran away because his father beat him to "make him stronger". His mother died giving birth to Kaz. He was adopted by a fisherwoman and his wife (butch lesbian and trans femme woman). Their names are not important, because I am too tired to remember them. Anyway Kaz was raised by this super loving and super poor couple and their community. He learned to fish, hunt, gather herbs and cook and make things with his hands and how to heal. He went off to fight in many wars to make money to help in supporting his community. He got really good at fighting and incapacitating his enemies, even whole mobs of enemies, without killing a single one. Kaz came home big and strong and without an ounce of guilt on his soul.

That was, until the dragon came. You see, a dragon lived in a hill somewhat near his town. It was forbidden to even tread near the hill, because of what was hidden there. Well some rebellious teens decided there was no such thing as dragons, and they were going to prove it. Not only did they go near the hill, they started digging into the top of it. They were eaten swiftly.

Kazren, the motherfucker with balls of steel, had made it home just in time to lead a small group of villagers against the damned thing. They evacuated the whole village as he single-handedly took on the beast. His strength was renowned, as was his heart of gold and balls of steel and tongue of silver. I mean all around a clever and strong and brave and just cool guy.

ANYWAY, he fights this dragon while everyone evacuates. He lets himself get eaten (in one bite thank the gods) and saves the teens by cutting it open. There was just one problem, that he didn't realize. If he wasn't out fighting the dragon, who was? The answer will put your heart in an early grave then piss on that grave: Kazren's mothers. They took up his sword when he was eaten and started battling the dragon. It incinerated both of them with one bellow of its fire-breath.

He had to rip the dragon open from the inside with his bare hands and pull out the teens, only to discover his mother was nowhere. When Kazren found his moms, they were dead. Some of the villagers explained what happened. He immediately took a running dive off of the nearest, highest cliff into the water. That's where the real story begins. You see, his biological father wasn't the king (whew). It was Thor, the god of storms and stuff.

As Kazren took that flying leap, he was struck by lightning, and made immortal. When he landed in an epic superhero pose, he realized his whole life was leading up to this.

Boy howdy was he pissed.

Nowadays, he runs an orphanage and is a licensed private investigator in his free time.

I made him when I was 13 and I mean yeah I've edited and remade his story since then,,,

art will be incoming soon?

edit: art is here gods bless @solibis

HEEM

#original character #show and tell #links ocs

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caramelfuzz · 3 years

Text

Sick Ai/zawa

Alright people, take the garbage man with a cold. I really wanted to make it erasermight so we’ve got an awkward All Might trying to take care of his disaster boyfriend.

It’s common knowledge among the UA faculty that Yagi Toshinori’s weakened physical state left him with a variety of vulnerabilities, most of which Aizawa Shouta became even more aware of once he began dating the man. Of these vulnerabilities, the increased susceptibility to sickness is what worries Aizawa the most. If he gets sick it inevitably goes straight to his chest, which causes even more severe respiratory issues. It’s frankly quite worrisome, even if Aizawa still has issues expressing his worry to the fragile man.

That’s why, the second Aizawa feels a prickle in his throat one night on patrol, he decides it would be best for him to go back to his own place instead of Toshinori’s as they’d planned.

He decides to forgo sending any form of message so he doesn’t have to lie to his boyfriend, instead opting to curl up in his sleeping bag and pray he’s being paranoid and that he’s not actually coming down with something.

When he awakens to a completely stuffed nose, a burning throat, and an incessant tickle in both he knows his prayers have gone unanswered.

He checks his phone, 4 texts and 2 missed calls from Toshi, great.

After an experimental sniff he finds his nose completely blocked, which won’t do at all.

Considering his options, Aizawa decides that avoiding Toshinori entirely would be the best plan of action. He would die of guilt if his simple head cold turned into bronchitis or pneumonia for the world’s symbol of peace.

“Hahh… Ih'CH-ISH! 'TSHIEW! Eh’nGXTCH’uh!”

He pitches miserably into his hands, wishing for a fleeting moment that he had the luxury of calling in sick. Nezu had requested that, short of the stomach flu, hospitalization, or death, no teacher is to miss class. There is far too much at stake for students to miss a day of learning. With that thought fresh in his mind, Aizawa drags himself out of bed to get ready for work.

As he walks toward his classroom he sees something flash in the corner of his eye. Crap, he’d recognize that hideous pinstriped suit anywhere. Before he can make any sort of escape, All Might, in all of his muscular glory, is in front of him. He’s smiling but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Aizawa-kun, hello! Did you receive any of my messages last night?”

Aizawa stands frozen, unsure of what to do. If he speaks he’ll give himself away immediately, his voice is wrecked and it hasn’t even been a full day since he felt the cold coming on. He’ll have to find some sort of way out of this conversation that doesn’t involve speaking, breathing, or hurting Toshinori’s feelings.

Suddenly Midoriya comes bounding around the corner, panting and looking exceedingly concerned.

“Hey All Might! I, uh, need to talk to you?”

Toshinori, in his endlessly enthusiastic manner, whips around to face the young hero and bellows,

“What can I do for you, young Midoriya?”

Aizawa takes the opportunity and hurries away from them towards his classroom. He can’t hang out in the teacher’s lounge, not with the danger of his boyfriend going in there at any point during the day. If he were to cough or sneeze in that room he could potentially infect Toshinori if he went in there later.

He’s in desperate need of tissues, and considering how sore his nose already is, he feels a visit to pilfer some of Recovery Girl’s nice lotion-infused ones is in order.

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

“What? Aizawa is sick?”

“Yes, and I would advise you to keep your distance or else you could catch it too, Toshinori. He only popped in for tissues earlier and he wouldn’t let me take his temperature but I’m positive that boy had a fever. Stubborn man.”

While Recovery Girl continues to complain about how stubborn the pro hero is, Toshinori can’t help but worry about his boyfriend. What if he tries to patrol while he’s sick? Recovery Girl said he had a fever earlier, what if he passes out somewhere?

He shakes the thoughts from his head. He realizes Shouta likely won’t allow him to come over and take care of him, but has to do something. Aizawa has already cared for him far too many times during their short relationship and he wants to repay the favor. There is something so intimate about taking care of an ailing partner that Toshinori doesn’t want to miss out on just because of his compromised immune system, so he devises a plan.

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

By the end of the day Aizawa is ready to drop. His students can be a handful even when he is healthy, but with a raging head cold and a fever it’s a lot more difficult to deal with them. Not to mention the fact that he’s trying to suppress his symptoms so as not to infect his students on top of everything else.

“huh'EHSCCHH'uh! Ih'CHISSSH-xt! 'TSHIEWW! eh’nGXTCH’uh!”

He cringes at the unexpected sneezes, they’re getting harder to hold in. He’s walking home, shivering as the wind picks up. It looks like it might rain.

It does in fact rain, the sky opens up when he’s about 5 minutes from his apartment but he’s too exhausted to muster anything faster than a brisk walk which only shortens his journey by a minute or so.

When he arrives home all he can do is remove his wet scarf and curl up on the couch, pulling a thin afghan around himself as tightly as he can. He quickly drifts off as exhaustion takes over.

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

Aizawa jolts from his half-sleep to a timid knock at his door. His first thought is that a villain had somehow found his place of residence, but it’s exceedingly unlikely for a villain to just knock on the door. Come to think of it, it’s exceedingly unlikely for anyone to visit him. Maybe it’s someone else’s door being knocked on. When the knocking persists, however, he clears his throat and tries to call out.

“I-ihh- I’mb cahh-cobigg,”

He rasps, grabbing onto his coffee table for support as he staggers through the living room. He grabs his scarf, it’s still wet but it will have to do, and approaches the door. His hitching breath forces him to detour to the tissue box.

“Godda sdihh-gh’hh! Ugh, sdeeze. Hh’mmph! Gktshhh! H’HCKCH!”

He dissolves into a coughing fit which he muffles into his arm as he approaches the door, not bothering to check who it is, which he immediately regrets when he sees a soaked Toshinori with two flu masks on his face.

Aizawa’s breath leaves his lungs and he staggers, feeling like he might pass out for a moment from the sheer shock of seeing Toshinori in such a state, why was he out in the cold rain? He can get really sick if he does that! He quickly comes back to his senses and ushers his boyfriend into his apartment, thoughts solely on getting Toshinori warm and dry as quickly as possible. He grabs a towel and begins to dab at his hair and arms, growing frustrated with himself as a sneeze builds within his sinuses and he’s forced to jerk away with a throat-wrenching triple.

“Hahh… Ih'CHISH! 'TSHIEWW! eh’nGXTCH’uh!”

He dabs at his nose with his scarf, once again turning his worried and exhausted gaze to the drowned rat he’s dating, only to see him with a mirrored expression.

“Aizawa? Shouta, I’m fine!”

Toshinori’s voice is muffled by the masks but still very audible, but his reassurance seems to fall on deaf ears. Aizawa is feverishly gathering an assortment of long sleeved shirts and thick socks and placing them onto the bed before them. Once he’s satisfied with his choices he starts to push his boyfriend toward the bathroom almost frantically.

“Warmb up, take a shower or sombethigg. You’ve got to be freezigg.”

“I’m really not,” Toshinori chuckles, pulling up his sleeve. Aizawa squints at his arm through blurry eyes, unsure of what he’s supposed to be looking at.

Upon closer inspection, it appears Toshinori is wearing thermals beneath his work clothes. It’s smart given how frail he’s become since his injury and Aizawa is relieved for a moment, but then he remembers that he’s a walking germ factory at the moment. He scrambles away from his boyfriend and shields his mouth with his damp scarf.

“Wh-what are you doigg h-hh-here, Toshi?”

“I heard you were sick so I brought things to take care of you. You don’t look so good, Shouta.”

“Who told you that? I’mb finde.”

“Then why are you avoiding me like the plague if not to avoid infecting me? I thought our relationship had been going well.”

He looks so sad and Aizawa feels his heart lurch at the knowledge that he is the cause of it, but he has to remind himself that this is ultimately for a good cause. He can’t infect the symbol of peace with his rotten head cold.

“I’mb finde. Just ndeed sombe space right ndow, that’s all. Could you still put ond sombethigg dry, please? Just ind case?”

Toshinori complies, selecting a pair of sweats and some socks from the pile and going to change. The moment Aizawa is alone in the room he coughs, keeping his face hidden in his scarf. His chest is much more congested than it was earlier and he’s once again reminded that he has to find a way to make his fragile boyfriend leave before he catches this.

When Toshinori emerges dressed in clothes just a little too big on him, his resolve almost breaks. His sweet boyfriend looks so cuddly like this and all he wants to do is snuggle up with him in bed and sleep for a year. A wrenching coughing fit forces him to double over into his scarf and he’s pulled out of his fantasy. He can’t do that.

When the coughing fit doesn’t let up Toshinori moves to pat his back, but Aizawa feels a small burst of panicked desperation course through him and he smacks his hand away with a bit more force than intended. He sees a small tear of hurt in the smaller man’s eyes and immediately regrets his split-second decision.

“I’mb-kff!-I’mb s-so sorry, Yagi-san.”

Toshinori’s heart breaks a little more at the sound of his boyfriend being so formal with him. Is this another tactic to drive him away so he won’t be infected? Or is it something worse?

He’d never been one to give up easily, though. He’s determined to go out with a bang. If Aizawa does want to break up Toshinori is at least determined to take care of him before he ends things.

Shouta drops his gaze to the floor guiltily, cold-dulled senses failing to pick up on Toshinori’s silent approach. He jerks when he feels a cool hand being pressed to his brow, looking up in shame at his boyfriend as he tuts gently at the heat. He doesn’t pull away, almost leaning into the cool touch before he stops himself.

Toshinori takes this as permission to speak freely.

“Now I know you’re worried about infecting me, which is why I'm wearing two masks, but if it will make you feel better you can wear one as well, I brought more.”

Aizawa snatches the offered mask and secures it over his mouth and nose before leaning away from his boyfriend to cough roughly.

“Are you going to let me take your temperature? I heard you were a bad patient for Recovery Girl earlier,”

Aizawa bites back a groan, so that’s how Toshi found him out.

He begrudgingly lifts the mask a bit, allowing his boyfriend to slip the device between his parted lips before shoving him toward the sink, aggressively miming hand washing. His boyfriend mimics his gestures in an equally exaggerated fashion, earning a weak chuckle from around the thermometer.

When it beeps, Aizawa yanks it away from his boyfriend’s reaching hands, shaking his head aggressively. At least Toshi looks amused instead of upset.

“You don’t want me to touch it again?”

Aizawa nods, squinting down at the blurry numbers flashing on the screen, 1… 107? No, that would be fatal. 100? The third number continues to evade him, which just goes to show that he probably has a fever, and he finds frustrated tears filling his eyes. Toshi sees his irritated squint and approaches his boyfriend, gently petting his hair as he peers over his shoulder.

“102.1, that’s not great, babe. Have you taken any medicine?”

Shouta ducks into his shoulder to stifle a harsh sneeze before shaking his head sheepishly. It’s honestly pathetic how incapable he is at taking care of himself and yet the school continues to entrust him with the lives of impressionable teenagers.

He’s startled out of his thoughts by a glass of water being pressed into his hand, but almost immediately after taking the glass the infernal tickle that has plagued him all day rears its head again.

“Hh’ghh… hah… ihh’hih!”

Before Toshinori can even process what is happening, Aizawa jerks to the side to sneeze, sloshing chilly water into his lap in the process,

“huh'EHSCCHH'uh! Ih'CHISSSH-xt! 'TSHIEWW! eh’nGXTCH’uh! Sdf! ‘Scuse be.”

He shivers violently and now it’s Toshinori’s turn to worry about keeping his boyfriend warm. He gathers a warm sweater and socks from the pile of clothing Aizawa had accumulated for him and returns to his boyfriend.

Shouta is desperately hacking into his sleeve when Toshi returns with the clothing and the few parts of his face that aren’t obscured by the mask or his hair are pink with exertion.

When he notices the worried presence looming before him he attempts to straighten up and appear healthy, but his lungs won’t grant him that luxury and he starts to cough again. He finally feels the urge die down along with a gush of phlegm in his mouth. Disgusted, he snatches the clothes from his boyfriend and stalks to the bathroom, ripping the mask off and spitting into the sink. He dons the mask once more to change his clothes, unwilling to breathe any of his germs on anything Toshi could potentially touch. He leaves his clothes in a damp heap on the bathroom floor but keeps his scarf wrapped around his neck. It’s still wet from the rain and causes goosebumps to break out on his skin. He dismisses the feeling with a single shiver and walks back out to his small living room.

Toshinori looks up from where he’s putting on the kettle and frowns, brows furrowing. It makes Shouta self conscious of his appearance. His nose tingles and he scrubs at it from over his mask to force the tickle away, a single hitch leaving his throat. He’s so focused on not sneezing that he doesn’t notice his boyfriend approach, again.

“Why are you still wearing that scarf? It’s all wet, Shouta. We both know you’d never let me wear something wet if I were sporting a head cold as bad as yours.”

He scolds softly, settling onto the couch and patting the cushion next to him. Aizawa hadn’t realized he was still standing, he must be more out of it than he thought.

The kettle sings from across the room and Toshinori gently guides Shouta to sit on the couch before going to turn it off. He returns with a mug of tea and a pack of medicine, which he presents to his boyfriend shyly. He’s usually the one being taken care of and it feels oddly intimate to take care of his boyfriend like this. Aizawa just stares at them blankly for a moment, another shiver wracking his thin frame. He takes them eventually and swallows the medicine before listing into Toshinori’s side, exhaustion creeping up his body.

“Sleep, Shouta.”

And he does.

#aa writes #i have finally gotten over my like three year long writers block apparently #and i'm currently obsessed over the garbage man again #i started this fic probably a year or so ago #the ending is a little rushed #i'm bad at endings tho #sick aizawa #aizawa sneeze #bnha

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valdomarx · 4 years

Text

Winterverse: a fic about Geralt and Jaskier sharing beds and catching feelings Previous parts [1] [2] [3] [4]

Jaskier is no coward.

Certainly, Geralt knows he is wont to be overly dramatic about minor inconveniences and rather too concerned with the state of his fine clothes. But when Geralt gets a contract on a dangerous beast, when any normal human would shrink back in fear and hide in their homes, then Jaskier insists on accompanying him.

He rather wishes Jaskier would be a little less brave on occasion. His apparent disregard for his own well being is more of a worry that Geralt would like to admit.

Still, he could never really deny Jaskier anything. So when he begs and wheedles to be brought along on a contract for a fiend, Geralt relents, even knowing the danger the beast presents.

The hunt begins as is typical: finding a victim’s remains, following a scent trail, locating the dark area of forest where the creature is hiding during the daylight hours. Geralt prepares his blade oil and his potions, and Jaskier even helps, handing him ingredients as he needs them. Geralt wonders when Jaskier learned so much about alchemy.

The trek through the forest is damp and dim, but nothing his senses can’t handle. Jaskier trails behind him, jumpy and uncertain.

Most people run away when they see a monstrous, inhuman witcher approaching them. But not Jaskier. When he’s scared, when something unexpected happens, or when immediate danger threatens, Jaskier runs towards Geralt. As if he feels safer beside him.

Geralt is usually too distracted by whatever danger Jaskier has just awoken to dwell on his actions. But when he thinks back on these moments, it makes something tug deep inside his chest to recall how Jaskier’s eyes soften and his body relaxes once he gets near him.

On this particular occasion, Geralt smells the beast before it comes into sight. He’s ready with a Devil’s Puffball bomb the moment the creature’s enormous antlers and scabby, shaggy fur come into view.

There’s little that surprises Geralt at his age, so he’s not taken aback either by the fiend’s hideous appearance or by its stench. Jaskier, however, is a little less hardened to the realities of monster hunting, and gags as the fiend scuttles towards them on four legs, like a twisted, nightmarish version of a deer.

Geralt throws the bomb high and the creature staggers back, quelled for a moment by the staggering boom the bomb causes in the quiet forest. He doesn’t have much time though, so he knows has to move in fast and hard. He rolls in and slashes in quick, ugly strokes with his silver blade before the beast has time to attack. There is no space for compassion here, and he works efficiently, whittling down its strength in a relentless dance of attacks and dodges.

Jaskier has hidden behind a tree stump, mercifully intimidated enough by the sheer scale of the fiend to stay down. But the moment Geralt looks around to check on Jaskier he knows he has made a mistake in switching his attention.

The fiend rears back and lets out a ear-splitting cry, and Geralt can only watch as its third eye, located in the middle of its forehead, flies opens to reveal a burning red ember, coal-like and smoking.

The forest is plunged instantly into a night as black as pitch. Even with his heightened senses, all Geralt can see is that terrible red eye and all he can hear is the ringing in his ears. He staggers back, vertigo throbbing through his head and the pull of the fiend’s magic churning in his very bones. But this is nothing he hasn’t experienced before, so he steadies himself as Vesemir taught him, regains his balance, and rolls away from the beast to crouch concealed in the darkness.

Jaskier, however, has neither his training nor his experience. Geralt smells Jaskier’s fear more than he sees him, the acrid scent filling his nose as he hears the beast roar and tense, preparing to charge.

He knows Jaskier is in front of him, right in the fiend’s path. He can sense the disorientation and confusion coming off Jaskier; he knows how magnetic the pull of that demonic red eye is to humans, compelled to step closer even as they finally comprehend they are approaching their own oblivion.

Geralt moves fast. He charges forward into the darkness, body checking Jaskier out of the beast’s path and hearing him land with a confused oof in the dirt a few meters away. He doesn’t stop to check on him, instead rolling low and coming up within mere inches of the fiend, close enough that he can feel its stenching breath on his face.

He holds his blade low and thrusts upwards in sharp, vicious bursts, puncturing the beast’s lower jaw. He feels bone and skull shattering beneath his onslaught, and the creature lets out a terrible scream of agony. He has to dodge the wild swinging of its taloned limbs but he doesn’t stop, returning to redouble his efforts . With one final thrust he pushes his sword into its bottom jaw, through its mouth and then its brain and out the top of its skull.

The fiend screams once more, a hideous sound of pain and anger that shakes him down to the marrow, and then it falls. As its red eye dims and finally winks out, the dappled light of the afternoon bleeds back into the forest and Geralt feels like he can breathe again.

As the light returns, he goes straight to Jaskier’s side and picks him up out of the dirt, quickly checking him over. No blood, no obvious injuries, no lasting damage save the woozy, confused expression on his face which indicates a human shaking off an enchantment. He’s fine.

He sets Jaskier on his feet and goes about the messy but necessary business of collecting a trophy from the fiend. It takes him a few minutes of concentration before he notices that Jaskier is uncharacteristically quiet, and that the acrid stench of fear is still hanging around him in clouds.

“Geralt,” Jaskier eventually breaks the silence. “What in the hell was that?”

“Fiend,” Geralt says, factually. “They have ancient forest magic. They can hypnotise humans with their third eye."

Jaskier swallows. “That was the most horrific thing I’ve ever experienced.”

Strangely, Jaskier isn’t waving his arms around or being melodramatic. His voice is small and quiet, and his arms are wrapped around his body. Geralt has never seen him this subdued.

A lingering effect of the magic, he assumes. It’s just a bit of trickery. Jaskier will shake it off soon enough.

“It’ll make for a good song, hmm?” he says, lightening the mood, trying to cheer Jaskier as he’d assume he wants. But Jaskier only pales further and says nothing.

Geralt doesn’t understand humans. He realises this more and more as he spends time with Jaskier. From his point of view, today went as well as could have been hoped: the job is complete, no one had been injured, and he’d been paid in full for once. There’s an inn where they can eat and rest. The alderman even thanked him for slaying the fiend. It’s as close to a good day as he gets.

But Jaskier won’t settle. He won’t sit down for more than a minute and he’s been fidgety all night. He hasn’t so much as made a joke, or hummed an annoying tune, or strummed at his lute all evening. Instead, he paces.

Geralt rarely experiences fear these days, but he does remember how it felt as a child. The crushing weight on your chest, the way your feet seem to be glued to the floor, when the air is pulled from your lungs with such force you can’t even scream. He remembers it as a sharp and pointed thing, something acute and of the moment, something to be deflected and overcome. Something temporary.

He doesn’t remember this lingering feeling of distress that’s radiating off Jaskier, long after the danger has passed. The fiend is dead. Why would Jaskier still be afraid? It makes no sense.

Geralt tries to provides comfort the ways he knows how to: he makes sure Jaskier has the larger portion of food, and he moves so he is not blocking the door and Jaskier can always see the exit.

It doesn’t seem to help, and Jaskier remains quiet and withdrawn. Geralt never thought he’d miss Jaskier’s incessant chattering, but he finds himself uncomfortable with the silence that stretches out without Jaskier’s words to fill it.

He determines he will tell Jaskier the legends about fiends, where they come from, what their weaknesses are, which organs can be cut out and sold or used for potions. For him, having this knowledge of a creature makes it less intimidating: here are the facts, and with those you are forearmed should you ever need to face one.

It doesn’t seem to work with Jaskier. He barely gets out a few words about the differences between fiends and chorts before Jaskier cuts him off, with a terse, “I’ve had quite enough of fiends for one day.”

It’s odd, because Jaskier usually loves to hear about monster classifications. It’s one of the things Geralt likes most about him, the way he pays attention to the things that Geralt says and the way he appreciates the finer details that others overlook. But Geralt is out of ideas and Jaskier is still on edge, so they retire to bed.

Their room is spacious and even has two beds, making it practically luxurious by their usual standards. Yet Jaskier is still downcast.

“It’s okay,” Geralt tries one last time, stumbling only slightly over his words. “The fiend is dead. It can’t hurt you now.”

Jaskier looks at him, and myriad emotions parade across his face in a matter of seconds, racing by too fast for Geralt to comprehend. “I know,” Jaskier says eventually, bottom lip wobbling. Tears are welling in his eyes. “It’s just -”

He trails off, and then he’s bounding across the room and clutching Geralt, fisting his shirt tightly in his hands. “I really thought I was going to die.”

“Oh.” Geralt stills for a moment, uncertain how to react to this flagrant display of emotion. But he puts his arms around Jaskier, and it’s easier that he would have thought to hold him and to stoke gentle circles into his back, the same way he’d calm Roach if she were scared. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

Jaskier sniffles and tucks his face into Geralt’s neck. “It was horrible,” he says, voice wobbling. “It was like every dark, awful feeling I’ve ever had was magnified and I knew the fiend was going to rip me apart and even then I was drawn to it. Like I wanted it to kill me. I couldn’t stop it.”

“It’s okay,” Geralt says again, unsure what he could possibly say that would help. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

Jaskier pulls back and gives him a watery, lopsided smile. “You wouldn’t,” he agrees. His eyes flick to the bed Geralt has taken under the window, and then to his own bed on the far side of the room. “Could I...” he trails off. “Could I sleep in your bed tonight? I’m sorry, I know it’s silly, but I really feel -”

“Of course,” Geralt interrupts him. That’s easily done, and if it makes Jaskier feel better, then it’s no imposition on him. “Of course you can.”

Jaskier manages a smile, a real smile, at that and Geralt is already glad he can be useful. If he’d known that something as simple as physical contact would have helped Jaskier, he’d have offered it sooner.

They shed their clothes and lie together on the uneven straw mattress, each on their back and staring at the ceiling. Jaskier flops to face away and curls up in on himself, bringing his knees up to his chest and holding his arms around his legs.

That doesn’t look like a happy situation, but Geralt is hesitant to impose himself. What comfort could he offer? Still, Jaskier had asked to sleep here, so he’s clearly not averse to Geralt's touch.

Geralt carefully, gently, rolls over and puts an arm around Jaskier’s waist. He‘s ready to back off in an instant should Jaskier show signs of being uncomfortable but... instead, Jaskier sighs softly and relaxes into him.

Good. That’s progress. Geralt shuffles a little closer so that Jaskier can feel his warmth all along his body, and Jaskier uncurls against him with a low hum, bringing his hand up to lace their fingers together.

“You’re safe with me,” Geralt murmurs, voice quiet and, he hopes, reassuring. “I’d never let anything hurt you.”

Jaskier lets out the tiniest sob and Geralt holds him closer, determined to show Jaskier that he’s safe even if he doesn’t know how to put it into words. Without thinking about it, he drops a chaste kiss onto the crown of Jaskier’s head, the wavy hair soft beneath his lips.

The tension leeches out of Jaskier’s body bit by bit, and with each breath in and out that pungent smell of distress lessens and Jaskier’s natural scent of lavender and linseed and home returns. Soon enough, Jaskier slips into sleep as Geralt holds him close.

It’s incredible, really. Every other human Geralt has met has wanted to run from him. They’ve seen his monstrous visage and sensed the aura of death that surrounds him and they’ve felt discomfort and horror and fear. And yet, here is Jaskier, who runs towards him, who follows him around through the mud and the muck just to watch him do his job and sing his praises. And more than that, in his darkest moments, Jaskier feels better for having Geralt around. He feels safer in his presence.

It is an extraordinary gift, to be blessed with such trust, and one which Geralt can only hope in time to live up to.

#i'd forgotten how much i loved emotionally unaware geralt #it is a lot #also: fiends. hawt.#geraskier #the witcher #my writing

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mermaidssonshipss · 4 years

Text

ruin the friendship

another request! yeehaw! so i didn’t know if you wanted like an established relationship or not and i tend to not write established relationships (the pining and angst and hidden touches are always the best part once ur in a relationship it’s boring lmao) so i’m taking this and running with it but also putting my own twist on it but i really hope you enjoy it. it took me forever to write and i don’t know why i just. wanted it to... work? idk ANYWAYS! i hope you enjoy it yeehaw.

warnings: smut, obviously

pairings: rudy pankow x reader

word count: 3,082

At the age of 21, you were still a virgin, and the thought irritated you. It wasn’t like you hadn’t had the chance, or that you’d never had a boyfriend, the truth was you were just scared. When you were 16, your older sister had come into your bedroom right after she lost her virginity, whining about how bad it hurt and how uncomfortable it was. She couldn’t even sit down. She’d went into detail and to be quite frank, you were traumatized. So, whenever the opportunity to have sex presented itself, you’d always back out, which lead to many of your breakups. You knew you were being silly about it, but you just never felt like the guys you were with would care enough to take your feelings into consideration and make sure you were comfortable. You’d dated nothing but assholes who only wanted you for your body, and finding out you were a virgin never turned them off, it only made you a challenge, and when they realized they weren’t going to concur you, they dropped you.

Currently you were sat on Rudy’s couch, the both of you arguing over whether he should shave his mustache or not. You were highly against the hideous thing, arguing that it looked like he had a caterpillar above his lip, and he argued that the caterpillar was his friend.

“Question. Have you kissed a girl since you’ve had that thing on your face? Honest answers only,” you pressed, though you knew the answer already. He opened his mouth to reply, but fell short, his back falling into the couch as he glared at you.

“Is it really that bad?”

“Yes.”

He huffed out at that, crossing his arms and turning his face back towards the TV. You got up, making your way into his bathroom and coming back out holding shaving cream and his razor.

“Shave it. Now.”

“You shave it if you want it gone so bad,” he replied, raising his eyebrows, challenging you.

“I literally will, Rudy. I’ve been shaving since I was like.. 13. I’m not afraid to use a razor,” you quipped back, and he threw his head back, letting out a groan before he pushed himself off the couch and snatched the items from you, making his way to the bathroom as he shot a glare at you over his shoulder.

You settled back down on the couch, grabbing your phone. A couple of texts from your best friend, Han, popped up, and your cheeks turned red as you read the contents.

Han: dude... did you see Jake’s tweets?

Han: he’s literally subtweeting the fuck out of you.

You quickly opened the twitter app on your phone and went to his account, your heart dropping. The past several tweets were about how he was tired of being led on by “prudes,” how his last ex (you) thought she was too good for anyone, and finally, he ended it with “never date a virgin, dudes. they’re the worst.” You were hurt, but you weren’t really surprised. He’d broken up with you two days ago after he’d tried to pressure you into having sex with him again, and you’d held your ground, saying you weren’t ready. He’d stormed out of your apartment, screaming that you were over.

A tear slipped down your cheek and you quickly wiped it away as Rudy entered the room, now sporting a clean-shaven face. You tossed your phone to the side as you looked up at him, throwing a smile on your face at the sight, but it was clear to him you were upset.

“What happened?” He asked, sitting down next to you and you shook your head, giving him a shrug.

“Nothing. Jake being a dick. It’s whatever.” You’d never really discussed your sex-life with Rudy. It wasn’t that you weren’t comfortable with him, to be honest you were more comfortable with him than you’d ever been with anyone, it just never came up. He’d assumed you weren’t a virgin due to your boyfriends, and you never told him why things actually ended.

“What’d he do?” He looked angry, and you smiled at him softy; it was cute how much he cared.

“Just some stupid tweets,” you replied, not expecting him to grab his phone and go onto Jake’s profile.

“What’s his fucking problem? Why is he calling you a prude? You’re not a virgin?” His tone was questioning, realizing that you two had never really talked about the topic.

“I am a virgin,” you responded simply, scrunching your nose up slightly as you looked at him. He was silent for a moment, his mouth opening into a silent O.

“Close your mouth, Pankow. You’ll eat a fly,” you laughed and he quickly snapped his mouth shut before placing his phone next to yours.

“If you don’t mind me asking... why?” he was genuinely curious, his eyes watching you closely. At this question, your cheeks heated up. You weren’t ashamed that you were a virgin, but you were definitely embarrassed about the why. Without letting yourself overthink it, you launched into the story about your sister and how scared it had left you.

“I know it’s stupid,” you groaned, your hands covering your heated cheeks, “but seriously... the way she talked about it... like I’m fully expecting it to feel like I’m being ripped in half and I’m not okay with that! If I could find the right guy maybe I’d think about it but everyone I date is a fucking asshole that only cares about getting themselves off, and not my precious vagina. Like I don’t need to be in love with the dude I just need to know he’s gonna take his time and not hurt me!” your cheeks were absolutely flaming at this point, your fingers running through your hair as you tugged on it. Rudy was laughing next to you as you rambled, his eyes closing as tears leaked down his cheeks from how hard he was laughing. “Stop laughing!” You shouted, but you yourself were also laughing.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, trying to calm down, “Like it’s not funny I get it but the way you talked about it is hilarious,” his laughing had calmed down now, and he sent you a sincere smile, “I’ve definitely heard it hurts for a girl though, but like you said, you just need to find someone who’s gonna be careful with you. Someone you trust and are comfortable with.”

“Rudy. Men suck. You’re the only man I trust with my life,” you dead panned, and he raised an eyebrow at you. He was quiet for a moment, and you could see the wheels turning in his head before he finally spoke up.

“Let me take your virginity.” He was confident as he spoke the words and you sucked in a breath, not expecting that to come out of his mouth.

“Rudy...”

“Hear me out,” he sat up straighter now, his entire body facing you, “We’ve been friends for how long? Like 10 years now, right? I know you better than anyone else, and vice-versa. You also just said you trust me, and are comfortable with me. I’ll admit I’ve never been with a virgin before and I don’t want you to think this is me trying to check something off a checklist or whatever, but I care about you and your feelings in general, so of course I’d care about that in bed. I’ll be gentle. I’ll listen to you and what you want and make sure you’re as comfortable as you possibly can be.”

You thought about it for a moment, weighing his words around the corners of your brain, before deciding that he had a point.

“Okay. But it absolutely cannot ruin our friendship.” He nodded his head in agreement, running his fingers through his hair as it flopped into his eyes.

“Absolutely. I don’t think anything can ruin our friendship at this point, anyway,” he was smiling softly at you as he spoke, and you knew you should feel nervous under his gaze, but you were comfortable. This was Rudy, your best friend, and you trusted him with the world.

The two of you were silent for a moment, letting the reality of the situation sink in, before Rudy stood up and held his hand out for you.

“If you’re sure you want this, I’m gonna wager losing your virginity in my comfy bed is much better than on my couch,” he smirked at you, and you rolled your eyes, but slipped your hand in his anyway. He tugged you up gently and lead the both of you to his bedroom, shutting the door gently after you had fully entered.

“I’m gonna kiss you now.” his voice was a whisper as he stepped closer to you, his hand resting on your cheek softly as his other hand landed on your waist, giving it a gentle squeeze. You simply nodded, not trusting your voice at the moment.

His lips were on yours moments later, all of the nerves in your body melting away as the two of you moved in-sync. For the first time in a very long time, you felt butterflies exploding in your stomach from a simple kiss, and you wound your arms around his shoulders to pull him closer to you. Your shirt was currently being bunched up under your ribs, his hands moving it up slowly as his fingertips trailed against your warm skin. He broke the kiss for only a moment, pulling your shirt off and tossing it onto the floor before his lips were attaching to yours once again, this time the kiss much more passionate. The two of you were stumbling slightly as he pushed you over to his bed, a few soft laughs being exchanged as he almost tripped over a pair of his sneakers.

“Remind me to clean up this mess,” he mumbled against your lips, and you could feel a smile on them as he hoisted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he crawled onto the bed and gently placed you down, your head resting on his pillow.

His eyes were drinking you in as he hovered above you, and you silently thanked yourself for putting on your favorite red lace bra that morning as his pupils widened at the sight.

“Beautiful,” he mumbled, and you weren’t sure if you were supposed to hear him, so you just smiled up at him before your fingers began fiddling with his shirt, tugging at it to signal you wanted it off. He was quick to pull it off and toss it across the room.

“Don’t forget to clean that up later,” you smirked, and he glared at you, but you could see he was holding in a smile.

“Can I?” his hand had slipped underneath you, his fingers resting on the clasp of your bra, waiting for your answer.

“Rudy, we’re about to have sex. Which I already agreed to. You’re allowed to undress me.” You could see his cheeks turn red as you spoke, but he rolled his eyes at you and quickly unclasped the bra before sliding the straps down your arms slowly, removing it fully. For a moment, you were tempted to cover yourself, but something about the way Rudy was looking down at you, his eyes scanning from your chest to your eyes, stopped you.

Soon his lips were back on yours, both of you fighting for dominance as he tugged at your shorts, pulling them down your legs and kicking them off the bed. His hand wrapped around your thigh, pushing your legs apart as he trailed feather light touches up the soft skin, goosebumps erupting across your body. His lips were moving down your neck and to your chest now, softly sucking the skin as your fingers flew to his hair, tangling them into his blonde locks.

Without warning, he slipped his large hand under the fabric of your panties and cupped your mound roughly, causing you to let out a sinful moan. You could feel him smirk against your chest as his thumb rubbed against your clit, drawing figure eights on the already throbbing bud. If you weren’t wet before, you definitely were now.

“Just gotta get you ready.” he whispered against your skin, his lips wrapping around your nipple as he let his teeth graze the sensitive peak, causing you to gasp and tug at his hair, which awarded you a groan from Rudy. You would gladly let him get you ready at any moment if it felt like this.

His finger teased your entrance, gathering up the wetness that pooled around the hole before slipping in easily, reaching places your own had never reached before. He was quick to slip a second finger in when he realized how wet you were, and he bit down on your nipple a bit too hard as he heard you moan out his name. It sounded sinful, and he wanted to hear you chant it for hours. As you writhed underneath him with each pump of his fingers, he was tempted to make you cum like this, intrigued to see you coming undone just from his fingers, but he didn’t want to overwhelm you, not this time, at least. When he could feel you clenching around his fingers, your whimpers growing louder, he pulled away, causing you to gasp out in displeasure.

“M’not done, princess,” he assured you, rolling next to you on the bed as he quickly pulled his pants and boxers down in one go. He was painfully hard, his cock slapping up against his abdomen the second it was free, and he let out a hiss as the cold air hit it. Quickly he threw his bedside table drawer open, feeling around it for a moment before his fingers finally latched onto a condom and he let out a sigh of relief. It’d been a while since he’d sex, to be honest, and he wasn’t sure if he had any condoms around.

“Hurry up,” you breathed impatiently, your hand slipping down as you began to rub your own clit, and Rudy thought he was going to explode at the sight.

“Jesus christ,” Escaped from his clenched teeth, and he was quick to move himself back on top of you, ripping the condom package open with his teeth before rolling it down his length, a painful moan escaping at the friction. He slapped your hand away, positioning the head of his cock against your entrance for a moment before dragging it between your folds, collecting your wetness on the condom.

“Please,” you whimpered quietly, causing Rudy to bite his lip. He had pictured you underneath him many times, but he had never pictured you begging him to take your virginity.

Slowly, he pushed inside of you, watching as your head pushed back into the pillow, your mouth falling open silently. It stung, but he was so gentle and so slow, giving you time to adjust as he very slowly pushed his entirety into you, finally bottoming out, you barely felt the discomfort.

Your hands wrapped around his back, your fingernails digging into his tan skin, and you whispered quietly into his ear, giving him permission to move. His body was resting down on yours gently, his own arms between your body and the bed, clutching onto you as he began to move his hips, dragging his cock against your tight walls as slow as he could force himself to go. His continuous moans mixed with yours, both of your names rolling off one another's tongues in ecstasy. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your heels digging into his ass slightly as you pushed him deeper into you, your body consumed with pleasure. His lips found yours again, but this kiss felt different. His lips were rough against yours, but there was a passion behind it that he had been holding back, feelings that had been hidden for years pouring between the two of you as he finally decided to give in to them.

He could tell you were close, your walls clenching around his cock, causing his hips to stutter at the feeling. His hand slipped between the two of you, finding the button that would let you release around him, and he began to circle his fingers around it quickly, the pressure of his fingers varying.

“Let go, pretty girl,” he whispered into your ear as he finally pulled his lips away from yours, soon resting them on your shoulder, his teeth sinking into the skin as you exploded around him, yelling his name out as your fingernails dug even deeper into his skin, leaving scratches behind. You’d gotten yourself off many times before, but it had never felt like this. You’d never felt this full, his cock deliciously scraping against your walls. He continued to pound into you, relishing in your whimpers before he too was coming undone into the condom, riding out his high until there was nothing left.

His body collapsed onto the bed next to you, sweaty and sticking to the sheets as he pulled the condom off and tied it up, tossing it into the bin next to his bed. You were absolutely blissed out, a soft smile on your lips, and Rudy pushed himself onto his side, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you into him, his fingertips trailing up and down your side.

“Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” his words were genuine as he looked down at you, his eyes full of adoration and what you think looked like love.

“I’m... wonderful,” you decided on, your own hand reaching up and tracing along his jawline, “It stung a bit in the beginning but after that it was... jesus I can’t believe I haven’t done that before,” you laughed, and Rudy laughed with you quietly, leaning down and placing a gentle kiss on your lips for a moment before pulling away and resting his forehead on yours, his eyes staring into yours, “think it only felt that way because it was with you though,” you admitted, your voice small as you spoke, and Rudy once again pecked your lips. He had decided kissing you was one of his favorite activities.

“I think... we just ruined the friendship,” he admitted, but he was smiling against your lips, and you knew what he meant.

“I think I agree.”

#rudy pankow smut #rudy pankow x reader #jj maybank x reader

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whumpingcrow · 3 years

Text

Pt.10 "The Gruesome Aftermath"

CW: gun mention, nightmare/ptsd/panic attacks, character death mention, murder mention, low self worth, emotional whump, brief medical mention, drugs/alcohol/cigarettes, tics/tourettes, injury description, past noncon/dubcon mention, aftermath of sexual abuse, begging (let me know if I missed anything!)

"You left me," August spat, the gun shaking in his hand. He was pressing it to his own temple, tears of anger were streaming down his face. He was going to hurt himself, he was going to hurt himself horribly and it was all Elias's fault and he couldn't do anything to stop him. "You needed me, you stupid bitch! I took care of you and you left!"

"August please!" Elias sobbed. He didn't know when or how he ended up there, but he was on his knees, hands clutching desperately at Augusts shirt. He couldn't move more than that, his body aching and weak. He wasn't entirely sure what happened to put him here, but he could put the pieces together. It was often that he was left in this position when he was with August, bruised and bloody and hurting. "Please don't do this, I'm so sorry! I won't ever leave again! Please!"

"You are nothing without me. You are made just to amuse me. So I'm going to show you what it feels like to be nothing, you'll never see me again."

"August no!" Elias screamed, bolting up out of bed. His chest was heaving quickly, every time he took a gasping breath images of blood and brains clouded his vision. He flinched away from the hands that reached out of the dark and grabbed his shoulders, crying out in fear. When the light flickered on, he saw Tyson facing him, his eyes wide.

"You ok?" He asked, his voice rushed and panicked, unable to think of anything else to say after being jolted out of his sleep.

"I'm ok," Elias sobbed, wiping furiously at the tears on his face, "I'm sorry I woke you up."

Tyson frowned at the apology, as if it was Elias's fault that he had a nightmare, then shook his head. "Hey, it's ok. Are you hurt?"

Elias looked down at his body to try and find any new injuries. There wasn't any new pain, at least, he could only feel a dull aching from the old bruises that tightened at every gasping breath. "No, I'm ok," he repeated. Even as he said it though, his breathing was still quick and he was choking on his tears.

Tyson nodded slowly, taking a deep breath to gather his thoughts. Elias wasn't hurt, he was safe, nothing bad was happening. "Come here," he whispered, holding out his arms to him. He was pleased when Elias crawled over to him and nestled into his chest, allowing Tyson to hold him close. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Please just hold me," Elias murmured, "just tell me it's gonna be alright."

Tyson did just that, holding him close and placing kisses against him here and there and rubbing his back gently, whispering that "its all ok, Eli. Everything is gonna be just fine."

"I killed someone Tyson," Elias whispered abruptly, his hands suddenly clutching at his shirt. "He made me shoot him in the face. I fucking killed hi...him." he wasn't sobbing anymore, just speaking in shaky, fragile words.

Tyson was shocked into silence for a good minute. He tried to imagine the trembling person in his arms holding a gun, pointing it at a living person, adding pressure to the trigger. Even the Elias that he knew before August could never do something like that, he thought. Sure, he was short tempered and rough around the edges sometimes, but he couldn't picture even that version of him killing someone. "Oh Elias..." He murmured softly, prompting him to start whimpering out broken cries of guilt again.

"I didn't want to!" He insisted, like Tyson would ever believe otherwise. "They pushed me in the pool and shot at me and when I got out he made me shoot him. I begged him not to Tyson, I swear I didn't want to kill him!"

"I know baby," Tyson said, "of course you didn't want to. It's not your fault."

"He ruined me. He made me into a fucking monster." He curled closer into Tyson's grip, squeezing his eyes shut. "He made me hideous."

"Hey, stop it, Elias. You've done nothing wrong. He's the monster, not you." He pulled away and took his face in his hands. He wiped his tears gently, holding him with a softness that often overwhelmed Elias with how little he felt deserving of it. "You're perfect, you're just hurting right now. It's gonna be ok."

Elias bit his lip and leaned into his touch, wanting to believe that he was telling the truth, but not able to escape the harsh feeling of dread he still felt. He stopped crying after that, leaning against Tyson's chest and listening to his breathing, his heart beat, the rumbling in his chest when he spoke. He fell back asleep after awhile, feeling safe and comfortable being held, being protected.

He woke up the next morning soaked in the sunshine bleeding through the window, he could smell weed and Tyson's cologne in the air around him and he felt at home, safe. He stretched a little, huffing when his body was still tender and sore, then sat up. Tyson wasn't in the room with him, but he could hear him speaking to someone in the kitchen. Great, more strange people who he had to let stare at him and try to look pretty for despite his ugly injuries. Maybe he would just stay in bed. Maybe he could just ignore every problem until it was just him and Tyson. But then he was hearing his own name dropped into the conversation, and he felt like he was being summoned, so he stood up rather quickly and rushed out of the room, stopping in the doorway of the kitchen.

Tyson was leaning against the kitchen counter, Allen and Leo were standing across from him, and they all looked up at him as he stumbled in. He regretted leaving the safety of the room the minute all of their eyes were on him, he wanted to go back to bed, crawl under the covers and pretend he didn't exist.

"Good morning," Tyson smiled at him, holding a joint in between his fingers. Elias grimaced at how it reminded him of August smoking. He could picture the way he would take a drag and close his eyes, looking focused and calm and almost harmless until the exhale. He remembered how his eyes would get red and puffy and he would grin at Elias and look very relaxed. That relaxation would often turn to him sitting on the couch, forcing Elias to his knees in front of him and undoing his pants. Elias would feel so embarrassed and disgusted in himself that he couldn't help the tears streaming down his face and the saliva dripping down his chin. August would hum to himself and he would say such sweetly vulgar things to Elias when he looked like that.

Instead of allowing those memories to bother him, he stepped forward and took the joint from Tyson, taking a long drag. Tyson didn't say a word as he watched him, but he did grab his wrist gently and rub his thumb against him.

"Morning," Elias finally coughed out, "why didn't you wake me up when you got up?" He kept his voice quiet, refusing to look up at anyone but Tyson. He knew that it would give them permission to stare back, and he didn't want that.

"You were sleeping so peaceful, I just wanted to let you rest." He took the joint away from him, grinning playfully. "You gotta be careful, lightweight." Elias smiled at him as he ruffled his hair, leaning into his touch.

Allen couldn't help but stare at Elias, or rather Elias's visible injuries, from the second he walked in. He felt sick to his stomach at the reddened bruises on his neck and the barely healed ones around his wrists. One of his hands was mangled with purple and blue splotches, and when he got a quick glace at his face his eyes were incredibly bloodshot and the bags of his eyes were scarlet with popped blood vessels. He could only imagine what he was hiding under his sweatshirt, Allen had hidden under a hoodie for a long time, too, and knew the secrecy of it all too well. He knew the way the fabric would sometimes rub painfully against burns and scrapes, he knew that people often would touch or grab injuries they weren't even aware they were hurting and all he could do is wrinkle his nose and try to breathe through the pain.

He felt Leo's hand on his own, and when he looked at him he was met with concern. "You ok?" He mouthed. Allen forced himself to nod, then reached for his pack of cigarettes with nervous hands. As he searched for a lighter, he saw Elias moving toward him. When he looked up he saw that he was holding a lighter in his hand, looking up at Allen with wide eyes.

"Can I join you? I'll share this," he wiggled the lighter at him, offering a dull smile.

"Yeah, of course," Allen said politely, stepping to the side to let him lead the way outside.

Elias looked wistful as he held the cigarette to his lips, staring off at something that Allen couldn't see. His eyes were sort of droopy from the weed, and Allen felt a little jealous. He wasn't allowed to get high to numb the pain that August caused him, why could Elias? He shook his head at the stupid thought, lighting his own cigarette.

"They think it'll help if we talk to each other," Elias mumbled, "about what happened."

Allen nodded slowly, surprised when Elias turned to look at him. "Yeah, Leo was saying that."

"Do you....do you think it would help?" He whispered, his voice suddenly small and broken.

"I think...we've both gone through things that no one else would understand. Even Leo and Tyson, they were scared and hurt too, but they don't know what we went through."

Elias was tearful suddenly, and he cleared his throat to stop the tears. Allen was looking at him closely, waiting for him to break. He had to, didn't he? He'd been with August, after all, and Allen was well aware that Elias had to have been pushed past his breaking point long ago. Yet here he was, smiling and joking and acting fine. If Allen couldn't see his brutal injuries, the physical evidence of what he'd been through, he would really think he'd just been having a hard week.

"I feel so ugly now." He finally choked out, his hand shaking as he brought it up to wipe at his eyes.

All at once, Allen could feel the weight of Elias's aching, the turmoil that he had been so good at hiding moments ago, right inside. He had been through a horrific amount of pain all alone with no comfort or support, he was so much younger than all of them, he wasn't equipped to handle that amount of violence. He had been killed, had been considered medically dead, at only 19 his life had come to a screeching halt and then was jump started again.

"I know," he breathed in understanding, leaning toward him and placing his hand over Elias's, "but you're not. And that feeling will go away overtime, I promise."

"I uh...did he ever tell you that you weren't a person? He told me I was made just for other people's entertainment. I'm no one if I'm not used."

You are just a worthless toy, a piece of meat. You exist just to amuse me.

"He's a liar, Elias. He would say anything to make you easier to manipulate." He took a deep breath as he chose his next words carefully. "You are more than what he told you. We are both more than what he tried to turn us into."

Elias broke down in pained sobs, barely resisting when Allen pulled him into a hug. "When do you stop-" he choked on a cry, clutching at Allen's jacket, "stop being scared?"

"Oh, Elias..." Allen cooed, like he was talking to a hurt puppy. "You... You don't. But listen to me, he's gone now. He can't hurt us anymore."

"But I can't handle it! I can't stomach the fear, it's eating me alive!"

"Hey, hey!" Allen hushed, pulling him closer. "I promise you it's going to get easier. You've got Tyson, he's so great and he really cares about you. Like, a crazy amount. Trust me, it's a little ridiculous how much he cares about you. And you have me and Leo, if you need us. You're not going through this alone and it's going to get easier."

Elias pulled off of him all at once, wiping his tears away quickly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cry all over you. I'm sorry."

Allen sighed, reaching out to pay his back with a shaky hand. He knew what Elias was feeling, the dread that came with crying, waiting for the shouting or the pain.

Why are you crying like that? I've hardly even done anything yet. Pathetic. I can't wait to see just how hard you cry when I actually hurt you.

"You're allowed to cry," he assured him, "nobody's gonna hurt you for it."

"How do you do that?" Elias whispered. "I mean, how do you just tell yourself that and believe it? I keep waiting for Tyson to swing at me. I feel like...like I'm hoping he does."

Allen nodded slowly. "Yeah, I felt like that for awhile, too. You just stop wanting that pain, eventually. You realize that you don't actually deserve it."

"Ok," Elias mumbled, putting out his cigarette and then immediately lighting the next one. They sat outside and talked for a long while after that, both of them cried a bit at the overwhelming comfort and simultaneous horror of being understood. Elias was so relieved to find that he hadn't been the only one August was horrible to. Allen, in a way, felt a sick sense of pride that August had been senselessly violent with Elias, it meant that Allen had behaved better. He hated himself for thinking that way, knew it was just August's own twisted words in his head, but he couldn't help it.

They must have lost track of time, because soon Tyson was opening the door and peering out at them nervously. For a long time, he just stared between Elias and Allen, taking in their matching red puffy eyes, evidence they'd both been crying. He noticed that the looks that passed over their faces when he opened the door were identical, a timid hopefulness that was akin to begging to be told their doing something right. "Please tell me I'm good. Promise me that I'm not doing anything wrong, that you won't punish me", it said. Allen only had it for a split second, like it was reflexive, and then he seemingly soothed himself down to relax again. It only got worse with Elias, though, every second longer that Tyson stood silent, observing him, was another ounce of desperation added to his face.

So, with lungs weighed down by the sympathy pains he felt through the both of them, he forced out: "You doing ok? Been out here a while."

Elias nodded, standing up with a huff. "Yeah, I think I wanna go lay down." He kept his distance from Tyson, still freaked out from what they had talked about, still not ready to be touched. He leaned away from Tyson as much as he could as he passed him to go inside, like they were two magnets, like the idea of the comforting touches Tyson would inevitably offer was enough to repel Elias. His throat was raw as he did, he could almost feel Tyson collapse when the person he ached to protect and comfort shrank away from him like he was the one who had given him all of the ghastly injuries. It wasn't his fault, right? Elias just had to have time to heal. Allen let Leo touch him now, Elias just had to heal a little before he'd let Tyson touch him again, right?

Still, it was difficult not to take that shit to heart.

Allen followed them both in, watching Elias sink down to the couch with a pained expression. Once he was relaxed, he focused his stare at the floor, and all at once he looked vacant and far away. Allen cringed, wishing he could just reach in and pull the poor kid out of those torturous memories, ones he knew all too well. Leo must've been waiting for him to come back in so they could leave, because he was ready to leave by the time they all came back in, and they hastily said their goodbyes. They had to get on with their day, after all.

"You and Allen were gone for awhile," Tyson remarked after they were gone, sitting next to Elias. "Did it help?"

"Um...I think so. A little." His voice was just a soft murmur as he sat up and moved closer to Tyson, nervously leaning in, like he was waiting for Tyson to jump on him. Tyson could tell he was thinking hard about something, that whatever he was debating saying was dancing right on the tip of his tongue, and he wasn't sure if he should say it or just choke on it instead. "Hey Ty?"

"Yes love?"

"Did you ever think about...about having sex with me?" He looked down at his hands, suddenly ashamed. "I mean, before all this, before I got all used up-"

"Elias." Tyson said firmly. Elias cowered a little, when his name was said that like that it sounded like a curse word. He told himself that this was it, that Tyson was finally going to hit him, tired of his brainless questions. But then he was talking again, his voice soft and patient, just as it always was. "You aren't used up. You're a human being, you have value outside of what he did to you."

"You didn't answer my question," Elias whispered, despite how afraid he was to push Tyson any further into frustration, "did you want me or not?"

Tyson sighed, leaning toward Elias until they're shoulders were touching. "I want you, Eli. All of you, you as a person. Of course I desire you, but I want it when it's the right time."

Elias looked up at him, glancing down at his lips as he reached forward and ran his fingertips over his cheek. "Can now be the right time?" He asked.

Tyson was reminded of the first time Allen got back from August, how submissive and trained he was, how he offered himself up just to feel like he was doing something right, just to be praised. Tyson didn't understand the weight of his damage then, and now he'd have to walk with the guilt of foolishly sleeping with Allen in that newly broken state. He was smarter and more in control of himself this time, though, he couldn't possibly take advantage of Elias like that. "I don't think so, baby. You're not in the right mindset for it."

"Please, Tyson," he breathed, closing the gap between them until their lips barely brushed, and Tyson dropped his frigid shoulders a little at a time. "I want to know how it feels when it's with someone I...someone I care about."

All that Tyson could think of was that it would be so perfect to hear Elias begging like this, if it wasn't because he was practically rewired to plead for attention, for touch, for a distraction from the pain. He wasn't able to fully enjoy the way his hands nervously brushed over Tyson's clothes, or his shivering breaths against his skin, or the barely audible desperation in his voice. Not that it wasn't ravishing to hear him so desperate, so close to bothered without anything having happened yet, not that it wasn't mouth-wateringly enticing, but because it wasn't for him, not really. It was Elias's trained need for reassurance, to get affection in any way that he could get it.

"Elias, I can't do that to you. Not right now, not while you're hurting." He pulled away from him, watching his face fall to a dejected frown. It was gut-wrenching to see him look so pained by the rejection, but Tyson was more worried about the ugly alternative if he gave in.

Elias felt suffocated, he felt like he could still feel August's hands all over him, his stare burning into him and his body pressed close enough to crush him. He didn't want to belong to him anymore, he didn't want to exist feeling like some used up toy. "You don't understand," he whimpered, "I feel so filthy, I need you to clean me."

Tyson sighed heavily, looking up at Elias as he crawled into his lap, arms looping around his neck. "You're just not in the right head space. I'm not gonna take advantage of you."

With a dismissive shake of his head, Elias pressed himself closer, kissing gently at his neck. "Please," he gasped, eyes welling up with tears, "please, Ty. I don't want to feel like this anymore."

Tyson pushed him away, taking his face in his hands. He inspected his bloodshot eyes, his pale face and his purple stained skin. He was so fragile, so breakable, so weak. Tyson was afraid if he touched him the wrong way he would crumble and die. "I can't take that feeling away, and you know that. Doing this would only help for a second, and then it will be worse. Trust me, baby, it's not worth it right now." The way he spoke had an air of finality, one that told Elias that he was going to get absolutely nowhere by pleading with him.

Tyson didn't want him that way, Elias was meant to just fester in the filth that August left on him. While the idea of that made him sick, he tried to console himself as best he could with the reminder that any type of emotional turmoil here was better than all of that pain August put him through. At least here he was with Tyson, safe. Unwanted, but safe. He would just have to live with it that way.

After a moment of thinking, Elias swallowed back his tears, nodding slowly. "Can you at least kiss me?" He tried one last time, obviously afraid of the answer.

It was a request Tyson could do, it was innocent enough, so he pulled Elias close and kissed him gently, holding his face as he did. Elias was submissive in this way, too, making himself pliant in his arms and following whatever Tyson was doing, simply melting into the kiss. When he pulled away, Elias was breathless and had a new wave of tears in his eyes, this time accompanied by a light blush.

"Thank you." Even though he spoke in a hushed mutter, it was earnest and full of emotion. He smiled when Tyson kissed him one last time, then slid off of him and onto the soft couch. Tyson stroked his thigh lovingly a few times, reaching for one of the nearby blankets to hand to Elias when he yawned.

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lunewell · 3 years

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The Lunewell Saga - Natura: Chapter 2

Can also be read on ao3 by clicking here

First part is here (:

Third part is here

Book Sumary:

Zarifa Birch, an antique shop worker with an unusual past, has made a home for herself in the sleepy town of Lunewell. Though the shop she works at is not exactly ordinary, with cryptid items and odd occurrences, she has managed to carve the normal life she always desperately wished for out of it.

However, all that comes crumbling down, as a woman from Zarifa’s past throws everything into chaos. Faced with unimaginable horrors, seemingly unsolvable mysteries, and returning repressed feelings and memories, Zarifa along with her coworkers, must find a way to return the balance- and escape the cruel hands of death in this eldritch horror mystery

Chapter 2:

At 03:45 in the morning, under a night sky covered in a thick blanket of storm clouds, Zarifa was woken, not by any natural phenomena, or by her antique alarm clock, but by the sound of her phone screeching out what was effectively deafening trumpets. Though this had never happened before, Zarifa knew instantly what it was, and threw off her warm, cotton duvet immediately.

Grant, who frankly was the only one who had anything even close to technology related competence, had wired up an alarm system in the shop not too long ago, and connected it to Zarifa’s phone. He had also, of course, been the one to design the hideous sound. As she gripped her phone with a speed that almost made it go smashing to the ground, she turned it on to see that the alarm of Thorn’s Antiques had, in fact, just gone off.

She rubbed her temples, shivering slightly. Neither the room nor the outside world were particularly warm, with a chilly wind seeping on through the wall and around the room. Her bed was a haven of heat, and a place that could soothe the ever-growing, tired ache in her bones, and her entire body protested when she turned on her heels and began walking towards the closet, shuddering.

Zarifa threw on clothes at an impressive haste; a warm turtleneck and a pair of jeans that were just the slightest bit too small, then snatched her phone and purse, and put on her necklace, before rushing out the door.

She wasn’t all that worried about the robbery, not really. While they were an antique shop, they didn’t have anything really valuable, at least not that she was aware of.

Besides, if anything of value truly had been stolen, there was pretty much only one culprit, and lucky for them, Zarifa knew exactly where to go should that be the case.

No, her haste came not from a place of fear of the robber, or worry over the supply, but from Valour’s reaction. Valour, though usually apathetic, had an overprotectiveness of the shop, and any damage to it, might lead to the new rising of a mass murderer. The butterfly over her turtleneck saw one last glimpse of the light, before it was covered in a thick, black coat, and slipped outside into the shadowy night.

The breeze was particularly strong, fiery trees not so much swaying in the wind as almost being knocked down by it. Zarifa pulled her coat tighter, shivering as a cracking whip of gust slammed her face. The stars above, usually visible in the dimly lit dirt paths, were shielded behind towering, puffed-up storm clouds, almost menacing in their own way.

She walked onto the pavement, passing her small and worn car parked outside the small cottage. She debated on taking it, before deciding it really wasn’t worth it. Lunewell was so small anyway, and the shop hidden in the far corner was but a ten-minute walk. Though driving should technically have been faster, navigating her way around the roads and towards Lune Lake, where the shop lay, would take just as long as walking there. Even after living there for five years, Zarifa still found the roads and paths an absolute maze, like the village was purposefully trying to trap its inhabitants.

As she rounded a corner, and headed towards what had become a very small street of other local shops and one bar, a wave of newly baked pastries broke through the ozone-scented air, sending yet another hard hit of a gust that pushed her back ever so slightly. She didn’t mind the wind though, as her tight expression morphed into a delighted smile and her body became infinitely more aware of how long it has been since she’d eaten.

Zarifa relished in the smell for just a little longer, though she kept her pace up, before she froze in place at the edge of a lamppost light. Mr. and Mrs. Carr, both bundled up in striped, hand-knit scarves, were walking towards the bakery hand in hand, clearly preparing to open for the day. Zarifa stood almost inhumanly still in place, as though the Carrs were hunting predators and she was their prey, her breathing having grown shallower and tighter.

Taking a step back further into the shadows, she hoped the light was poor enough and their eyes old enough that she would slip under their senses. Or, at least, that was the plan, until her feet knocked against an empty can on the ground, sending a rattling sound that resonated through the street.

Their heads snapped up, landing first on the can that had rolled into the light, and then on Zarifa herself, who was still holding her breath, even her heartbeat muted. Mrs. Carr, who had never particularly liked Zarifa for whatever reason, gave a wave and a slightly tight smile as her greyed hair blew haphazardly around her head.

Her husband turned to see what she was looking at, lighting up when he saw Zarifa, who had edged herself into the event horizon of visibility. “Zarifa!” he greeted enthusiastically, but quietly, “Hello dear. What are you doing out here at this hour?”

Zarifa rubbed the back of her neck, shuffling further forward. “Good morning Mrs. Carr, Mr. Carr-”

“As I’ve said before, just Harold’s fine love.”

“Apologies,” Zarifa said, hands moving from her neck to the gold that hung around it. “I’m not in the best mindset right now,” Mr. Carr sounded an ‘Oh?’, as Mrs. Carr headed inside slightly huffy, “you see, the alarm for Thorn’s Antiques just went off.”

Mr. Carr’s eyebrows shot up in concern, wrinkles bunched on his ever-balding forehead. “That’s dreadful,” he exclaimed, “not the kind of thing you’d expect to happen ‘round here. You better be off, Lilly and I’ll drop by with some of the baked goods later in the day.”

“Oh, that’s very generous but you don’t have to,” Zarifa reassured in a slight panicky tone, “no point in dragging you two into this mess.”

“Nonsense,” he said, “everyone needs some baked goods in situations like this. Besides, I’m sure that young lad of yours with the glasses - Graham? Brant? - would be very appreciative.”

“If you’re positively sure it isn’t an inconvenience, that would be lovely,” Zarifa said, finishing it off with a warm if anxious smile. Any lingering silence was broken by the sound of Mrs. Carr calling for her husband and co-worker in a way fit for a dictator. Mr. Carr turned towards the door

“Yes, I’m coming, I’m coming!” he shouted, back, a stark contrast to the gentle lull of his tone before. “I believe my wife needs me. We’ll stop by later. Good luck!”

Zarifa took off like a jetfighter, sprinting away with a wave and footsteps that bounced into the streets. At her speed, it wasn’t long before she was no longer landing on cobbled streets but on overgrown dirt paths covered in damp leaves. The shop, a small stoney thing with dirty windows that practically looked abandoned, came into view, and her eyes moved to the door, which was in fact left just the slightest bit open.

Sliding inside, she closed the door behind her, though the shop remained equally cold. It looked almost eerie at this time, the furniture remnant of old times, empty and abandoned, a few vases smashed on the floor from where someone had been in a rush, and a stillness so quiet that it was deafening to her ears.

Picking up a blue floral patterned shard, she continued onwards, keeping her footsteps as light as a ghost. Well, as light as a ghost that could not sneak past a deaf person, but she digressed. Pushing open the door to the back, wincing as the door hinges made a shrieking creek, reminiscent of a whining child, she made her way in.

The employees’ lounge looked, as she had expected, fine. Everything was exactly as they had left it, slightly disjointed, except for Bruin’s desk that had been organised meticulously. She began heading for the downstairs, to see if any of the inventory had been stolen, when she heard a muffled thud from upstairs, releasing the pressured silence in her ear and exchanging it with dread.

Thud, thud, thud , multiple slamming sounds, equally light, equally muffled, radiated from upstairs. She could track the being’s every movement from the sound alone, see the continuous patterns of thuds make their way through the upstairs rooms. Her eyes trailed them vigorously, pupils jumpy, as she tightened the grip on the shard. The fact that it dug into her hand, almost piercing through her thin bicoloured skin, didn’t register.

The shop yet again went quiet, though any illusion of silence was broken by Zarifa’s hammering heart. She glanced around the room, gaze going to the cellar where she could take her hiding, to the second exit, and back up to Valour’s personal floor. She looked up, waiting for any more signs of life, before snailing sneakily up the stairs with the shard held out in front of her.

The steps, normal stairs instead of the never ending spiral leading to the basement, stayed as silent as herself throughout the ascent, as though they themselves were afraid of the intruder above. Zarifa tipped-toed up them, the yellow stained walls that the stairs were encased in almost suffocatingly tight, and ever closing in.

At the top of the carpeted steps sat a black door crested in a slightly lighter shade, with a pair of Bobby pins stuck in the lock. It was the only entrance Zarifa had never taken in the shop, looming above her and guarding a floor that even so much as seeing would lead to great punishment.

It was too dark to peek into the room, and there was no sound but her own swallowing and the wind that had picked up outside. She took another step up, and reached for the handle as though it was shatterable glass. With a prayer directed more towards the cosmic force of luck rather than anything specific, she gave one push of the door.

Luck, it seemed, was on her side, as the hinges opened without the slightest squeak. She took the final stairs up, giving one last glance to where she came from, and stepped inside what was effectively Valour’s house.

Even through the fog of darkness, she could see the layer of dust, and the sheer amount of things thrown astray on the floor. Outlines of books with unreadable titles spilling over the carpet, sheets of aged papers crumbled into what she assumed had once been a paper bin, and antique knick-knacks placed in tall piles, disfigured by the low lighting.

At first glance, it seemed disorganised, but as her eyes adjusted more to the lightless room, it became clear that similar items were bundled together, and that there was some kind of system. She just hadn’t quite figured out what that system was.

Looking away from the silhouettes of mess that seemed ever-shifting, she turned her eyes downward, looking at where a path had been cleared. Whether it had always been there, or whether the dear intruder had made it, she was unsure about. She walked across it like a minefield, eyes trained on the ground and not looking at the piles which were getting higher as she went along and spilling further towards her.

She stopped at a hallway, leading in two different directions, which was deserted compared to the room she had just arrived in, only containing a painting, a few near empty shelves, and a drawer. Though equally riddled with swirling, sand-like dust, it felt cleaner, and had a little bit of light poking through a curtained roof window. It shone on the portrait hanging large and proud above the wooden desk, enough so that she could see the illuminated face of a younger Valour with colour still in her hair and a rather androgynous person she couldn’t quite recognise. They invoked the same familiar feeling she had felt yesterday, albei more distant.

She took a step closer, staring intently. The person, a sickly pale figure with light brown hair and odd, pink, heart shaped sunglasses, was almost entrancing, to the point she had barely realised just how close her hand was to the canvas.

The trance was broken not by the touch of the oil canvas, but by a sound that Zarifa, when asked at a later point, could only have described as bounding . It was the sound of a constrictor wrapping around its prey, of tight ropes encircling a wrist, of becoming trapped and helpless.

A flash of light blue light, ever so faint and ever so quick that one couldn’t be scolded for mistaking it with a hallucination, appeared in the corner of her eye. Her head snapped towards one of the doors, hair on her arms rising, as she made her ways towards the source.

From the outside door, she could hear whatever was making that sound wrap further, deeper, and for a second, her mind cleared. She considered walking out; walking safely home, telling Valour that she couldn’t find anything stolen, and not getting involved. Letting this, whatever this was, live its life or death peacefully.

After all, was that not why she had come to find herself here in the shop in the first place? Was that not why Grant, Bruin, or even to an extent Valour herself had found themselves in this antique shop? To escape a past of unexplainable events, whilst simultaneously saving others from having the same brush with the eldritch, the unexplainable? To, for even just a split second, live in the illusion of normalcy, the lie that nothing had ever been wrong?

Zarifa turned on her heels, sneaking past the portrait of Valour and Heart-Glasses, which almost seemed to be judging her choice. Valour wouldn’t have turned away, which perhaps explained the scars and bruises. She couldn’t, however, bring herself to care, as her ever growing frantic footsteps made their way down the hall.

Now, what must be understood for the following sequence of events to make sense, is that Zarifa, deep down, was one thing; caring. She sees her fellow employees as great friends, always up to help or let them take breaks, she handles her books with delicate strokes and gloves hands, and she is always up to help.

Whether Zarifa’s caring nature always outshined her cowardice and self preservation is debatable, and a subject she preferred not to dwell on. However, in the word always , lies a hidden, implied one; sometimes.

Like when Zarifa, halfway down the hallway, heard a cry and groan of pain that was so distinctly Lottie , that she would have recognised it even if her ears got chopped off. As though someone had a pressed a button, she turned right back around, sprinted with loud thuds, and pushed the door with a speed that almost broke a whole in the wall. She stood panting in the doorway, all fear evaporated into a feeling that was not quite protectiveness, not quite caring, not quite pity, and not quite anger, before the muddled emotion transformed back into fear as her eyes landed on the strawberry blonde.

Lottie sat on the floor, legs dug into by long vines dressed in a barrier of thorns, arms tightly pressed against her body in a twisted bend that no human should have been able to achieve, and a streaming, jet black smoke arising from the leaf engraved ornate box in front of her and travelling right into her deep green eyes. Zarifa moved towards her and the box without even thinking, making her jerk, digging the thorns even deeper into her skin. “Don’t… to-touch a thing,” Lottie commanded, voice unbelievably hoarse, as though she had been shouting for hours, and Scottish accent more intense.

“I can’t sit by and watch… whatever’s happening!” Zarifa shouted frantically, panic stirring in her. She crouched down to the floor, even as Lottie made a sound of protest. “How can I stop this?”

“Y-you can get the fuck out,” Lottie managed to gasp out meeting her eyes. Her brows were stern, but her expressive emerald eyes were scrunched and her face was in a grimace that drew at Zarifa’s heart strings like a wound bow. All the while, the black smoke from the box-

The box. Of course. If she just closed it, Lottie would, theoretically, be fine. She began reaching for the moonlight-reflecting gold leaf, one of the only items visible in the otherwise almost pitch black room. She stopped as she heard her name called desperately from beside her, followed by a string of curses.

“Don’t touch it!” Lottie pleaded with a tone laced in anger, voice teetering on the edge of death, “Just get out of here, butterfly!” And oh, if her heart didn’t skip at that slip-up, “Don’t want to…” she gasped again, not quite managing to bite down another whimper, “d-drag you into this shit again.”

Zarifa looked at Lottie, her pained glare, the arms that looked like they had been put on backwards, and the pierced legs. She took a breath; “I’m sorry,” she said, and before Lottie could say so much as a word, she snapped the lid shut with a snap that hit like an atom bomb.

As soon as the bomb landed, everything went quiet. Zarifa moved quickly, as Lottie fell limp into her chest like a stuffless ragdoll, arms clicking back into the place with an audible sound, and eyes fluttering open to give one last angered, intense stare before shutting. The smoke, escaping Lottie’s eyes in a violent manner, balled itself up into the center of the room, the thorns vanishing and joining it to create a rotating, black and dark green, spiral-patterned sphere.

Keeping a close eye on the orb, she scrambled further backwards, pulling Lottie along with her. Her mind raced as she scanned the thing, trying desperately to decipher what it was, what it could possibly be. Though she wanted to leave the room, to drag Lottie and herself outside and never enter again, her eyes were entranced in the beautiful, indescribable spiral. It was, Zarifa thought grimly, a bit like the train incident all over again. Or the summer camp, for that matter, but she preferred to keep a lock on those memories.

The orb continued spiralling, room still quiet except for Zarifa’s heavy breathing, and the wind outside. It was then that she saw something in the spirals, something beyond the mist of black. She squinted, though in the light and with the colour it was hard to see much of anything except the swirling pattern. She began leaning in ever closer, though recoiled almost instantly as soon as the orb came to life.

A hand, pink and fleshy and clearly human, pushed against the pattern, stretching the orb to translucency like a tight latex glove. It pushed against the swirls, followed by another, then three hands, then 10 hands, and then an uncountable number. Everywhere you looked where skin covered fingers, all trying to break the barrier that had slowly stopped swirling.

Though they pushed and pushed, hands clawing with the ferocity of a starving lion, pounding with all the force of a hurricane, the barrier refused to move, just stretching to expose the arms further up. It had gotten to the point where Zarifa could clearly see knobbly elbows bending robotically, aimlessly through the cover. She regarded the arms from where she sat, eyes trailing their every movement, before she turned over, head still on them, and took a single, crawling movement towards the door.

All the hands stopped pushing, falling limp into the orb as though their strings had been cut. They were dragged back jerkily into the core, pulled out of sight as quickly as they had appeared. Zarifa held her breath watching the orb move towards her and out of the moonlight, the colours fading to nothing but a monochrome silhouette, and the shape morphing into something reminiscent of a bald human, albeit with arms just the slightest bit too long. She could not see its face, or any details on its body, even as it took an unsteady tumble towards her.

When Zarifa was twenty-one, and visiting Lunewell for the first time since the train incident, a seventeen year old girl, younger than herself, but already the owner of a shop, named Valour Thorn had taught her a very important lesson; When faced with the unexplainable, always close your eyes. At that time, Zarifa had yet to see what that would do. After all, simply ignoring danger when it was so close seemed like a sure fire way to get yourself killed, but a method of saviour.

Now, however, faced with an ever-approaching, vaguely human-shaped blob, staggering towards her like a drunken man with a concussion, she realised that situations like this could only have two outcomes, and closed her eyes. She kept her breath and body stiff, even if she knew she had already been spotted by the sound of bagged, wet meat slapping against the ground. The sound stopped completely mere inches in front of her, and everything went quiet, on what could very well have been the last moment of her life.

A breath, muffled as though it was coming through fabric, though no less warm and moist than what would have expected, blew against her cheek. It sounded strained, as though it’s lungs were thick as needles, but the breathing was rhythmic and distinctly alive. The breath inched closer, warming by the second as she squeezed her deep brown eyes tighter, mind caught in a loop of prayers to all the gods she could think off.

Lottie, who had previously been nestled comfortably against Zarifa’s jacket, let out a slightly pained groan. Her heart stopped, as she felt the creature's breath pan over her face, and towards where the pigtailed girl rested. In a flurry of movements that made Zarifa flinch violently against the wall, she felt the weight of Lotie lifted off her in one sharp movement. A dazed whimper once again admitted it from her, but it sounded distant compared to the one that had been right against Zarifa’s ear.

She desperately wished to open her eyes, to see what was happening, to make even a singular heroic movement to save Lottie, but she stayed in her prey position; paralysed and blind. It was a grim but realistic reminder that she had and would never be a saviour, nor a survivor, just lucky. Regardless of prior experiences, she was no more competent or threatening than a shot deer.

The squishy sound returned, just as the warmth where the creature had poised left her neck. There was a distinct dragging sound on the floor, a sharp leather and zippers scrapping on wood, as the wet splotches rounded around her. She still didn’t dare open her eyes, until the footsteps and dragging vanished.

As the house and flat quiet, her eyes opened slowly, the lids still recovering from the glued fear. She glanced down to her hands, and realised that somewhere along the way, they had reached up to grip the necklace, which she squeezed as she took a shuddering, shallow breath. She reminded herself that both she and Lottie would be okay, that they’d both been through far worse, but the comfort only resonated on a surface level.

Looking around the dark room, she noticed the outline of a light switch right by the door, which stood more ajar than she had previously thought. With a final, semi-deep breath, she flicked it on. The room burst harshly into a bright yellow lamp, her eyes burning at the harsh contrast. She blinked rapidly, trying to blink away the tears that at first came from brightness, but as her vision cleared, came from a true realisation of what had just happened.

In the light, it became clear that this tiny room was a study. There was a dust laden desk with old, leather-bound journals, a desk light with a shattered bulb, and a computer just slightly more modern than the one downstairs, a corkboard with images connected by different coloured strings that looked like a conspiracy theorist's wet dream, and lots of shelves populated with antiques and books. However, Zarifa was not so much focusing on the small glimpse into Valour’s elusive personal life, as the floor where the encounter happened.

Splattered across the planks were puddles of a black, tar-like liquid, intertwined with small specks of blood. The ornate box itself had at some point been knocked over, tilted on its side, spreading a few small, thin sheets of ancient looking paper out. Zarifa gently made her way over, stepping past the puddles with a scrunched up nose, before reaching the papers. She didn’t pick it up, nor touch it, instead tilting her head to read what the dull, brown ink said.

To whom it may concern…

In this letter lies the seal, which I fear must not be opened till The Dawn. If the time is not right, you must close this box, and ignore this. Do not read onwards, or you will bring upon yourself the cruelest of fates.

In a worst case scenario, if the seal has been unsealed before The Dawn, if doors ideally locked stand open, you must be prepared to make a key.

A key is forged by fragments of Touched sanity eating a sight of one that Sees, dipped in water oh-so divine. Once the key has begun, the fragments must sew themselves between the fabric, letting all webbed light shine on them. As they are blessed by the minute, and after the final step of-

Zarifa’s eyes widened, turning the page frantically looking for the continuation of where the text had been ripped off. She glanced around the room, looked once again inside the box, only to find it an empty chasm. With a shaky breath, she wiped away her tears, determaimly, and pulled up her phone.

Zarifa furrowed her brows as the time, reading precisely 06:00, appeared onto the screen. Had it really been two hours already? Nevertheless, she decided to ignore it for now, opening up her contacts, and quickly clicking the one person who she knew would already be up at such an early hour.

“Hey Grant? I need you and Bruin to come in as soon as possible. We have a slight… situation on our hands.”

#original writing #bookblr #book excerpt #writeblr #horror books #The Lunewell Saga - Natura

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passivenovember · 3 years

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@coffeeandchemicals (aka the sweetest angel bb) asked: For the drabbles, 55 or 60 or 72 with harringrove! Please and thank you!! 💙

55. “Our first date is a picnic. On a beach..under the stars? Have you swallowed a romance novel? Do I need to call a doctor?

Paper Angels.

The things is. Steve’s always had a sixth sense when it comes to falling in love. Can smell that shit from a mile away, the reeking infatuation that turns his already liquified brain into something like sludge. Mashed potatoes with too much milk, or something.

And it used to be that Robin would point it out in that usual way of hers, before Steve became a pro at monitoring his own downfall. Pick your tongue up off the floor, dingus.

And it used to be that Steve would take it like. A basketball to the back of the head, the realization that he was bleeding out in an open field for fucking whoever. Nancy Wheeler or Mark Lewinski or Brittani Clark. Robin could always sense it when Steve’s feelings started leaking out of his ears, but.

Billy Hargrove was something else entirely.

Neither of them saw it coming. The pushes and snarky comments that morphed into butterflies and concealed smiles under the light of the full moon, it was like.

Crossing a deserted road only to be fuckin’. T-boned by a cyclist who doesn’t have their lights on, or something.

One day they were enemies. Avoiding each other like the plague--Billy actually gagged when Steve passed by him at parties. Called him Steve “Sloppy Seconds” Harrington, and. Yeah. The feeling was fuckin’ mutual, alright?

Because Hargrove always wore too much cologne and Steve had the sneaking suspicion, after that night at the Byers’ when contact sports took on a whole new meaning with the sound of ceramic against his skull, that Billy perfumed his dick.

Sometimes guys did that, he’d heard. And if Steve had to bet, like, cold hard cash on it, Billy Hargrove was definitely one of those guys. And not that Steve really. Thought about it much or anything but kissing Billy was probably like licking the inside of an ash tray.

Just the thought of made him gag.

So, yeah. The feeling was mutual. The queasiness in Steve’s tummy was, like, disgust or something. Every time he saw that curly top above a sea of drunk high schoolers, he would start sweating a shit.

Bullets. Like he was going to face the electric chair, and. Steve had never thought for even a second that that feeling was mutual.

That Billy would be anxious to see him. Would escape the moment he heard Steve rounding the corner into whatever lame party was on the ducat this week, so. When they eventually became friends. Best Friends, close as a couple of girls, it felt like Steve had solved the most difficult puzzle in the universe.

They were shitfaced. Drunk enough to forget ceramic plates and nervous feelings, and Billy had tried to high-five him. Steve, on his way out for a smoke. Passed by with a little, well if it isn’t the leftover turkey, and. It would’ve been cool, but. They missed.

By a lot. Two guys who never sat on the bench during a game, they. Fuckin’ couldn’t land a high five from less than a foot away and that was it. Billy’s walls crumbled around them like so much graham cracker dust, and.

His eyes were pretty. Had they always been that pretty? Steve couldn’t remember but then Billy was leaning in, cheeks pink from laughter and whispering, You ain’t half bad, Harrington, into the shell of Steve’s ear.

Like it was a secret only the two of them could remedy, and. Billy pulled away. Winked, waggled his stupid, ridiculous tongue, and. When he passed by he smelled like summer rain. Black pepper and grapefruit.

Steve closed his eyes and felt the love leaking from his ears.

Shit.

After that it was like surviving a forest fire. Billy would show up at Steve’s just before midnight with a six pack of Budweiser and a half smoked joint. On bad day’s he acted like coming to Steve’s house was a chore, like. Steve was holding him at gunpoint, preaching about commitments like Steve had even asked for his company in the first place, and.

On those nights it almost wasn’t worth it. The feeling of being close to Billy, it was. Hard to talk to him.

And it wasn’t like falling slowly. Through syrup or stacks of blankets, like his usual style, it was like.

Getting in the car and driving way, into the night, with no map and no funds and no clue of what the end would look like. Steve fell hard and fast and slammed into the ground until he was one with the molten earth, on the good nights, too. When Billy grinned and cracked jokes and fuckin’. Winked.

So. The good outweighed the bad. For months, for millennia, it seemed. Until Steve couldn’t remember a time when midnight didn’t signal the arrival of love. And he would take it, anything, everything, for just a peak at the person he knew was hidden under all that hairspray and chiseled skin, so.

When Billy showed up one night with his car packed full of shit, Steve grabbed his coat without a word.

What are you doin’, Harrington.

I’m coming with you.

No you aren’t, that’s not. Look. I just came to say goodbye, so.

Not that easy to get rid of.

Billy tried to fight him, tried to. Hold him off, or something. Like any force in the fucking universe would be strong enough to keep them apart.

Steve made a face.

And Billy knew what that face meant so he cleaned out the passenger side of the Camaro. Stupid shit like lamps and folded quilts, shuffling it all to the back seat where there was clearly enough space.

It was almost like. He had known what Steve would do.

It was like he’d been preparing to say no, baby. I don’t have enough room, see? I’m saddled with more than I can take already, and I just--

Almost like he was hoping Steve would insist, anyway, and.

“Go pack a bag, pretty boy.”

Steve would follow him anywhere.

Billy came alive in California. The bad nights stopped existing out in the open air, they hid instead. Under the blanket of nightfall, under the sling of Steve’s arm. They paid extra for a two bedroom apartment on the beach, because.

I’m not expecting you to. Sleep in my bed, Steve.

Right. They were still pretending.

The second bedroom sat collecting dust. Steve emptied his trash bag of essentials into the dresser in Billy’s room, because. The love was constantly ruining his shirts, these days.

Steve bled blue and gold. Blatantly. Because he never felt it before, this. Feeling. Like the sand is being washed from his skin. Like he’s curling up in bed after a long day of hard work.

Billy makes him feel that way, so.

Steve can’t hide it. And he doesn’t try to. Not when they watch cartoons together on the couch, not when Billy sucks a hole into his neck under their blanket in their bed and asks, we goin’ steady? Like it’s even a fucking question, or something, but.

Steve realizes they went backwards. Won the game before actually learning the rules.

Do you wanna go on a date with me? He asks one morning. It’s raining, so Billy isn’t surfing and Steve isn’t sketching out on the porch, and.

It seems as good a time as any.

Billy has milk running down his chin when he looks up, eyes so blue and wide like he never expected it to fucking happen. Isn’t this a date?

What?

Right now, Billy says through a mouthful of Lucky Charms. We’re eating. Alone. Making eyes at each other over our meal--

Steve snorts. This isn’t a date.

And Billy’s face, fucking. Falls. He rinses his plate in the sink and kinda, doesn’t turn back around. Steve doesn’t know how he fucked it up already.

Bills?

What’s a date look like then? And that. Makes Steve laugh.

You’ve been on, like. So many dates, baby.

Not with you. Billy says flatly. When he turns around again his cheeks are pink. Not from laughter, but. From something else. I never went on any dates with you, so. How would I identify one in a crowd.

And Steve knows. Instantly, knows he’s not going to get out of this one.

Perfect first date shit, alright, I can. I can do that. He leans back in the hideous avocado green chair Billy picked out and. Sucks on his bottom lip. We have the day free. Because, um. It’s the off season. Right after labor day and, uh. The shop’s getting ready to shift into winter.

Billy grins. So in your perfect scenario we’re broke?

Listen, asshole wouldja just--

Alright, baby. Billy sits in the chair across from him and looks, fucking. So pretty in Avocado Green. I’m listening.

So Steve tells him. Their perfect date begins and ends with ease, it’s as simple as breathing. The way it’s always been for them. Natural. Steve packs a basket with a goddamn. Charcuterie board and like, fresh fruit and shit. The sun sets and Steve gets down on one knee and--

Our first date is a picnic. On a beach..under the stars? Billy doesn’t look even a little bit like laughing, not. Not when his nose goes all bunchy. Have you swallowed a romance novel? Do I need to call a doctor?

Steve isn’t really in the mood for jokes.

He covers his face with his hands, because. They went backwards. Never even put labels on it, or second guessed anything because Steve won the lottery. That night when the high fives went up in smoke, he.

Got everything he ever wanted.

Billy tugs at his wrists. Yanks and soothes and rearranges Steve’s skin until they’re chest to chest against avocado green. His eyes are teary. Fuck.

I didn’t mean to make you cry, baby. Steve says. ‘S a bad idea anyhow, too much pressure. You mean a lot and I fuckin’. Made you cry. Tears were never a part of the deal.

Billy lets Steve wipe his cheeks and then he’s smiling.

Not grinning or smirking or teasing, but. Happy. We could make this a date.

Steve shrugs. Yeah, I guess we could.

Pack some sandwiches, sit on the patio. Billy winks. Just like all those nights when neither boy could give their emotions a name. Take away some of the pressure.

I kinda dig the pressure, though.

Were you really gonna get down on one knee? Billy whispers. At the end of our first date? You know the statistics on divorce are--

Against his will, Steve’s chucking.

And on the first date? Billy tuts, cheeks pink again. You know I don’t put out for any ol’ pair of brown eyes, Harrington. I wait until at least the fourth date.

It’s been five years.

So marry me. Billy says. On Tuesday or something, we can. Go to the beach or whatever. Elope.

And.

Just like that night. With the Camaro stuffed to the brim, and Billy gripping his fingers like a lifeline in a storm, Steve has no choice. He never did, because. Yeah.

He kisses Billy, each cheek, both eyelids, before carrying him to their bedroom and wonders. If they’ll ever start at the beginning.

#harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #again #this ran away with me #I hope it reads alright #domestic fluff #california #running away together #first dates

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roseabelle21 · 3 years

Text

No. 1

Requested by: @mirukobecomingbothered

I might have gotten carried away with the headcanon, I'm sorry! 🥺🥺 I added a few twists of my own and I hope it reached your expectations. I hope you like it! ♥️♥️♥️

Pairings: Hitoshi Shinsou x reader, Katsuki Bakugou x reader

Status: Unedited

Genre: Fluff with a tiny weeny bit of angst.

Quick Background:

An outcast because of a 'villainous' quirk? Check.

Do you have friends? Not sure if you can call them your friends when they are all blithering idiots who want to mess with the spirits.

Does everyone think that you will be a villain someday? Every time.

Is everyone afraid of you because you look like you've been dead for the past five years but still walking above ground? Absolutely!

When do people see your cat do they automatically think that you are a witch? Yes, but more like a demon in disguise.

You shrugged them off, your quirk might be on the freaky and terrifying side but it is powerful.

Contrary to popular belief, ghosts are nice, most of the time. Maybe a bit clingy and attention seeker towards you since you are the only one who can see and hear them.

They are a nice company to be around. Most of them.

There was a time you used to hate your quirk, there never seems to be a privacy when you see those supernatural things.

You see things you wish you couldn't, things that can go beyond your imagination.

Everyone thinks the worst in you, and there are days when they get to you.

When that happens, the ghosts always have your back.

You try your best to prove them wrong, and when you got into UA and placed top 5 in the sports festival, some perspective changed, and some called you a freak.

Though they are all wimps since they can't say it directly in your face or around your friends, especially your boyfriend.

Lord knows what'll happen when someone talks shit about you around them.

They probably met Jesus soon after.

Shinsou Hitoshi

Straight off the bat, your favourite date, past time, and other couple activities are sleeping.

Him catching up on his well-deserved sleep and you calm your mind from everything.

Nothing in between.

Naps in the couch, beside the window, your rooms, maybe beside the window in the common room after stargazing.

You have to pry this headcanon from my cold dead hands.

This sleepy boi understands the pain and suffering you go through the best, especially since he's been there.

Both of you start as acquaintances.

You met him when your cat decided to give you a heart attack by running off to who knows where and not coming back for h o u r s.

It freaked you out since staying out late is unlikely of your lazy ass cat.

Despite your fatigue from training, you rushed outside to find them.

You didn't have to look for too long, you found them at the park accompanied by an Einstein inspired purple-haired guy with a UA uniform.

You let out a breath of relief, it didn't last long as anger bubbled up in your chest.

Yelling out their name that startled not only your cat and the guy, but the rest of the people at the park as well.

Shinso stared at you scolding your cat whilst bringing them in your arms.

Amused and curious at the same time.

Thinking that you took that TikTok meme "I'm alive but I'm dead" a little too far.

A chuckle that left his lips and your glare started a long interesting talk.

Both of you started eating lunch together at school with the Dekusquad.

A few teasing looks from Uraraka when he sat down beside you and greeted you before anyone else.

They started inviting him to your hangouts outside of the school and study dates.

It happened almost every day once he transferred from class 1-A.

A month after that Uraraka and Kaminari started teasing the both of you.

It confused you when they made a big deal about you and Shinsou spending more time with each other than the rest of the class.

It only confused you further when Shinsou started blushing every time you look at him or even go anywhere near him.

He finally confessed to you when both of you got stuck in the closet playing 7 Minutes In Heaven.

It was hard to listen to him because of the endless teasing of your ghost friends.

They approved of him the moment he talked and looked at you like a normal human being.

Shinsou as a friend was protective of you, knowing all of the nasty looks and what people say about you because of something uncontrollable.

And now that you're his girlfriend? Oh boy, haters can run but they can't hide.

He is the most chill person you will ever meet.

But once you decided to talk shit about his girl, just pray my dude.

Or beg for mercy.

If they are one in a million lucky ones, it might work.

But they're not so.

Not even Aizawa can stop him, cause he will turn blind eye.

Nobody talks shit to any of his children students and stay alive to tell the tale.

The both of you are his prodigies, they know nothing of the hard work you both put in your training with him.

You and your boyfriend are the best in stealth missions and gathering information.

You use your friends to gather information undetectable and Shinsou tricking the villains to brainwash them.

In short, you guys are the power couple of Class 1-A and everyone agrees.

A force to be reckoned with.

Besides, no one can pull off the cosplay of Morticia and Gomez Addams better than both of you can.

You rely on each other when times get rough and needed reassurance.

Being each other's rock to hold on and find comfort in.

Shinsou will wrap his arms around you as you spill everything to him.

Reassuring you that you are his hero, muttering sweet things in your ear, stroking your hair to calm you down, and humming you to sleep.

He knows what it feels like to hate something that is apart of you.

And he tries his best to make you see the best in the worst you think of yourself.

Everything about you is beautiful, nothing that is apart of you is worth hating.

Honestly, you couldn't wish for anyone better to be your significant other.

They can call you anything they want, but you will always be an angel in his eyes.

All of them can keep talking, and he finds great pleasure once they see your true power and find themselves speechless.

"That's my girl."

Bakugou Katsuki:

Not gonna lie, he will probably think that you are a zombie or somewhat related to them.

From the moment you walked through the door, slouched back, droopy red eyes, panda-like eye bags underneath, paper white skin that is unhealthy to look at, he was certain that you are going to collapse at any given moment.

He scoffed, wondering how the hell you managed to get into UA, let alone the Hero class.

Were you even in the right class or are you just that tired to not see that huge ass sign at the door?

Either way, he didn't care.

So long as you don't stand in his way from being the best, which is highly unlikely to happen in his eyes.

So imagine his shock when you managed to score higher than him in the Physical Assessment Test.

What in the hell?

"Hey, freak bitch! How the hell did you score higher than me?! What are you playing at?!"

Kirishima immediately held him back and apologized profusely to you.

Bakugou's anger at you only increased when you only stared at him blankly before rolling your eyes and walked away.

Throughout the rest of the day, whenever he tries to call you or even go near you, he finds himself tripping over nothing or his things randomly dropping.

To say it freaks him out will be an understatement.

However, that didn't stop him from pestering you.

Constantly asking yelling- at you demanding your quirk and challenging you for a fight.

You're nonchalant response and sassy remarks only ticked him off.

The two on two activity was useless since you did nothing and Todoroki handled the rest.

Cue the USJ incident and he is finally satisfied when he saw your quirk at first hand.

Skeletons rising from the ground and villains mysteriously flying away from you when they get too close to you.

He immediately put everything together and he is ecstatic.

An unusual quirk but powerful nonetheless.

Katsuki finds himself watching you in the classroom and during training.

Finding your quirk nothing short of weird and curiosity of finding out how you use it is eating him alive.

Sometimes, he catches you talking to yourself and it only makes him more curious.

And think that you are crazy.

The moment you agreed to challenge him was the beginning of your friendship.

He overheard a few girls that you went to school with talking about your hideous appearance and quirk when walking towards the school for training.

A slight twinge in his heart when he saw you, although your face didn't reveal anything, your eyes sure did.

He dragged you by the arm to go faster and reassured you in his blunt way.

After that training with Bakugou became a routine.

The Bakusquad saw you both walking out of the park.

You declined their offer of going out saying that you have something to do and Bakugou just saying that he's not interested in going.

So the teasing of when both of you will make it official happens every. Single. Day.

Be it weekends or weekdays.

They will not stop their teasing even if they are on the verge of death.

Your bond with Katsuki strengthened when you came to rescue him from the villains and when he failed the Provisional License exams.

You were the first one to notice his change and the first and only one to confront him.

He was shocked.

He thought he had it hidden well but not to you.

At first, he was hesitant to tell you anything. But one hug from you and his walls came crashing down.

After that incident, you came to each other to open up.

You told him how you hate your quirk sometimes. Seeing things that gives you nightmares and paranoia.

In a short but somewhat sweet way, he told you about how those fears make you a stronger person. Physically and mentally.

He's by your side no matter what happens, he won't let you go through this alone.

To further emphasize it, he gave you a one arm hug.

He asked you out a few weeks later, quietly and all blushy face which was the first for him.

Of course you said yes.

You both agreed to keep your relationship a secret from everyone until Halloween where - much to everyone's surprise- he joined in.

The real icing on the cake was when they saw you both in a cliche couple, Harley Quinn and Joker.

Mina and Kirishima were the first ones to realize and Denki being the last.

You are practically inseparable after you relieved your relationship.

Anyone who talks badly about you and your quirk won't last long in the face of the earth.

Katsuki Bakugou is already explosive enough as he is, and you decided to talk shit about the love of his life?

Girl/Boy bye.

I hope you crossed everything off your bucket list cause the last thing you will see and hear is the sound of his explosions.

He once asked you about what your spirits think of him.

You were silent for a while before you replied, "I don't think you wanna know."

You know he won't stop there, he kept pestering you, again and again, every chance he gets to ask.

Annoyed you told him.

"They think you are a crusty pomeranian and they find you amusing since it's a miracle that you still have your voice after al those yelling."

They like annoying him, whenever you both are alone, they whisper things to you that'll get you to giggle and he'll angrily question what they were talking about.

Making his things fall or mess with his hair.

They like him for you.

As long as he keeps you safe and happy, they'll keep him safe and sound.

From the villains and the bad spirits.

Random:

You have the perfect quirk to scare the living hell of your friends and family during Halloween season.

Who are you to deny the advantages of it. 😏😏😏

Various crosses and other blessed items by the priest litter around your room to keep the spirits away.

#Request #hitoshi shinso headcanons #hitoshi shinsou #hitoshi shinso x reader #hitoshi shinso x y/n #shinsou hitoshi #shinsou x reader #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki x you #katsuki bakugou x you #bakugou x you #katsuki bakugou headcanons #bakugou katsuki headcanons

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sassysaku · 3 years

Text

Day-18 Prompt: Enemies

They were supposed to be enemies. He became an enemy and traitor of the village when he left. She was a loyal kunoichi of The Leaf. But love knew no bounds. She knew that it was wrong to sneak out of her house to meet him every night. But she did. She knew it was wrong when she gave excuses to Ino whenever she was invited to the sleepovers. But she did.

It all started when Sakura was travelling to a small town near Land Of Iron for a solo mission. She was supposed to deliver the medical herbs which Tsunade-sama gave her. The mission was a success and to celebrate her success, she visited one of the shops to have some dango. She knew that, that shop sold the best dangos of the town (as Ino had said).

However, she didn't expect a loud red-haired banshee to proclaim her love for "her dear Sasuke-kun". She froze during her bites when she heard the name. She looked at the direction from where she heard the red-haired girl to confirm her suspicions. Her suspicions were confirmed when she saw a tall, dark-haired man sitting and the red-haired girl hugging his arm to her. She noticed the other two members of his team. Suigestsu and Jugo.

Could she convince him to come back with her?

Probably not.

Their last encounter with him wasn't a good memory. He made his intentions clear that he wouldn't go back until he killed his brother. He was an avenger and avengers don't calm down without revenge. It was impossible for her to bring him alone.

She left the dango shop in disappointment. He was her enemy and not a teammate anymore. After walking a few metres, she felt as if someone was following her. The follower's chakra signature was well-hidden and it was not possible for her to recognize it. The stalker continued following her till the forest.

Thinking that enough was enough, she pointed a kunai in the direction of the stalker before yelling, "You can come out now. I know you are following me."

The offender came out from behind the trees and said in a mocking voice, "I see you have finally improved."

Her eyes became wide and she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Standing in front of her was, "Sasuke? Why are you following me?"

She didn't put down her kunai and continued looking at him.

Sasuke uncrossed his arms and started speaking, "Oh, you think I didn't notice you looking at me back at the shop? Tch, Sakura."

His smooth voice rolled out the 'r' in her name and Sakura's mind was getting fuzzled. She noticed him getting close to her so she raised her kunai and took a defensive step.

"Don't come near me, Sasuke."

Sasuke put up his two hands in defense and continued walking towards her before saying, "Don't worry. I didn't come to attack you."

"Then, what are you intending to do, Sasuke?"

"Tch. No 'kun'? "

When did he become so talkative?

"Answer my question."

Sasuke feigned hurt and said, "What? Can't I have a nice chat with my teammate?"

"You are forgetting that we are no more teammates. You have forged the bonds already."

In the fraction of second, Sasuke disappeared from her line of sight and immediately appeared behind her. He snaked one of his arms around her waist from behind and held her hands captive with his other hand.

She felt him come closer and whisper in her ears, "So what were you saying, Sakura?"

She continued to struggle to take out her hands but it was futile. Sasuke was much stronger than her.

Sakura looked at him and snapped, "Leave my hands, Sasuke."

"Do I want to?" He pretended to think before saying, "No, I don't think so."

He placed his chin of her head and sniffed her hair.

"What are you doing?"

Sasuke looked at her and counter-questioned, "What does it look like, hmm?"

"Move away."

Sasuke moved away from her but held her hands captive. He pushed her to the trunk of the tree and placed his other hand beside her head.

He continued looking at her with his dark eyes and she squirmed under his gaze. This was the love of her life looking at her and giving her his full attention. She closed her eyes and looked sideways but she felt his hands on her chin prompting her to look at him. She could see something in his eyes but couldn't describe it.

She didn't have any time to think before he placed his lips on hers and began to kiss her. He loosened his hold on her, giving her the chance to move away from him. She was frozen in place. Her brain was trying to process what was happening. Sasuke was kissing her. Sasuke was kissing her. And what was more hideous was that she was responding to his kiss. It was like her body had its another mind.

"SASUKE-KUN, WHERE ARE YOU?"

They both heard the loud voice of a certain redhead coming closer to them. She was a sensory ninja so it was possible that she sensed Sasuke's chakra. Now that she thought about it, Sakura could feel his chakra too.

He moved away from her and she immediately felt the loss of his warmth. Damn.

"Sakura, go back. Meet me tonight near the Konoha forest."

He disappearent in a cloud of smoke and Sakura stoop gaping at the place he stood. She lifted her head to see the red-haired girl standing before her.

The red-haired girl pointed a finger at her and said, "You. What are you doing here?"

Sakura lifted a pink eyebrow and said, "And why am I supposed to tell you?"

The other girl sighed before saying, " I suppose not. Did you see Sasuke?"

"Why would I see him?"

"Don't answer my question with another question."

"Hmm, I guess you are right. No, I didn't see him."

"Oh, I see."

She left the place and Sakura released a sigh of relief. She began to run towards Konoha.

Sakura went out of her house to meet Sasuke. She was seeing him for the last three months every night. They didn't stay for long and often shared kisses and hugs.

She reached their meeting place and saw a dark figure standing against the tree.

"Sasuke-kun."

The 'kun' was back at his insistence.

"Sakura."

His voice caressed his lover's name with affection. Yes, lovers. They both loved each other. They were supposed to be enemies but here they were loving each other.

END.

@ssskmonth

#ssm21 #ssmonth21 #ssm21d18 #sasusakumonth2021

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augustwxllow · 3 years

Text

part three

maybe this will be the last instalment maybe it won’t be idk, we’ll both find out at the end together

henry’s pov

henry watched as the doctor scrambled for the paddles and the nurse started doing chest compressions on alex

he didn’t know if the doctors knew he was there but soon they probably would if he sobbed loudly

“charging... clear!”

the anaesthesiologist took the oxygen tube, which connected to the machine, out of henry’s mouth and the nurse removed her hands just in time as the shock was delivered

both the nurse and doctor, as well as henry, looked at the heart monitor

no change

the nurse immediately went back to doing chest compressions as the doctor waited for the paddles to recharge

“charging... clear!”

it was a routine that went on for two minutes and henry started to panic

he felt his hands fidgeting with the strap across his chest

henry caught attention of the doctor who took a step back and shook his head at the nurse

the nurse didn’t stop but instead nudged her head towards henry’s direction

henry’s panic only became worse when the doctor turned around and saw him and went wide eyed

the doctor quickly turned back to look at his patient and then back at henry and then grabbed the paddles immediately

“charging... clear!”

no change happened but he looked at the nurse

“go find me as much ice as you can and bring it here. im not having the death of the first son of the united states on my hands”

the nurse immediately ran out and almost came back immediately with two buckets and placed it around alex’s head

henry’s panic kept rising as he watched the clock

“come on love. don’t do this to me” henry whispered

“don’t leave me”

“charging... clear!”

no change

the nurse resumed compressions

“it’s almost four minutes doctor”

henry thought he squeaked at that and he knew he did when the nurse looked at him

henry knew not all medical shows weren’t accurate that didn’t mean he didn’t research stuff afterwards

but henry knew that after four minutes there would be permanent brain damage

“please love. i love you. please” henry begged one last time

henry watched as the doctor charged the paddles

“history, huh? bet we could make some” henry whispered to himself

henry looked down at his feet as he listened to the doctor deliver the last shock which would help prevent permanent brain damage

that sound

the sound of reassurance

the sound of life

the sound of henry’s fiancé being here

henry looked up and saw the heart monitor beeping at a normal rhythm and watched as the doctor quickly put the paddles away and worked on fixing alex’s shoulder

“fucking hell alex you dramatic asshole” henry let out in a shaky breath

henry watched as the doctor finished up with tying the wound up without the worry of alex would flatline again

henry stayed where he was

he didn’t think he could move after he watched alex laying lifeless on the table for nearly four minutes

suddenly the sound of a door opening caught henry’s attention

he turned around and saw the doctor there looking at him

“apologies your royal highness. im sorry you had to witness that”

henry held back the urge to roll his eyes

“the first son is in a stable condition and hopefully he will make a full recovery. we will have to keep him here for awhile to see if there is any brain damage due the amount of time he was deprived of oxygen”

henry just nodded and the doctor looked at him

“i know im not to speak to like this in front of a royal but he is one lucky bastard”

henry smiled at that and laughed smally

“that he is” henry replied

the doctor nodded and moved his head in the direction of the exit and showed him to alex’s private room

when the doctor reached it with henry he turned around when he heard his sister yell out his name

“you do rather need to be quiet in places like this bea”

“im sorry but i did call out for you four times but your brain was clearly preoccupied with the thoughts of your fiancé being okay”

henry sucked in a breath as the doctor looked at him

“i will not speak a word” he said simply as he held the door open for bea and himself

the two of them stepped in and bea handed him a bag with some clothes in it

“please do get changed so we can burn that uniform. i don’t want to see it again”

“when did you have time to get the clothes?”

“well when you originally told me to go get them i went downstairs and got shaan and zahra and then when i was waiting out there i got bored so i decided to go home and get you some clothes and eat your hidden stash of jaffa cakes”

“excuse me?”

“oh hush hush. just get out of that hideous thing”

henry listened to his sister and went into the bathroom and stopped out of the uniform

“you know what have a shower too” bea called out

henry did do that because he needed something to clear his thoughts before he sat down beside alex’s bed for the next god knows how many days waiting for him to wake up

henry felt clean when he stepped out of the shower and felt comfortable when he pulled out his sweatpants and the alex’s shirt

when henry stepped out, he saw bea had taken occupant of the lounge as she channel surfed so it left henry with the chair next to alex’s hand no doubt bea doing it on purpose

henry sat down and took hold of alex’s hand just as zahra and shaan burst into the room

“shhhh!” bea scolded

shaan shot bea a look but zahra’s eyes were focused on the rise and fall of alex’s chest

“i have to call ellen” zahra stepped out of the room, shaan not far behind

shaan and zahra never came back in and henry could only presume they were standing outside guarding the door

it had been hours since henry last ate and he was starting to get hungry but as if bea knew she left and immediately came back with food for henry

“you can go home bea. i will be quite alright” henry told her as he ate a bit of whatever she got him

“so who proposed to who?”

henry choked

“what?”

“did you propose to alex, or did alex propose to you?”

“it is none of your concern” he told his sister simply

“oh dearest brother, how could possibly think i would not want the juicy details?”

“i really do not think you would want to know bea” he gave her a look

she did not deserve to know who proposed to who it was henry of course as if she couldn’t tell by the band that was around alex’s finger

she also didn’t deserve to know the aftermath either henry hid a smile after remembering that did more than just two rounds after alex said yes

bea just gave him a disappointed look

“you’re no fun baby brother”

henry smiled at that and finished off whatever he was eating and just looked at the rise and fall of alex’s chest

henry had no idea how many days had passed

two???

three???

he didn’t know and his heart began to sink at the thought he would recover

bea had persuaded henry to go home multiple times but he refused there was no home if alec wasn’t there

ellen had flown in two nights ago with june and nora in tow

they’d all stayed for a bit and nora grinned when she saw the band on alex’s finger and june freaked out and ellen just gave henry a kiss

henry didn’t realise how welcoming they claremont’s had let them into their arms nora was a given since she was dating june

what surprised him most is when his nan had sent flowers to alex though when he looked at the card he could tell they were not from her as the words were too kind for her bitter heart about henry’s love for alex

henry was sitting in one of the chairs when he heard someone enter the room. he turned around and saw his brother standing there

“phillip?”

“i just wanted to pass on my congratulations to you and alex”

“im sure you don’t mean that” henry scoffed

“i know i may not approve of it like nan does not but bea may have slapped some sense into me the other night”

henry took notice of the bright red handprint which cover his brother’s cheek and he held back a laugh

“oh... well um thank you i suppose”

awkward silence sat between the two of them and henry wished he would leave already

“just because i do not approve of it-”

“phillip” henry gritted out

“doesn’t mean i shouldn’t stop you from being happy”

“bea made you say that didn’t she” henry said after a moment

“no. i may have had martha slap some sense to me too” he commented as he pointed to his other cheek

at that henry did laugh

“i’m sorry if i haven’t been the best of brothers but hopefully some time in the near future we could become better”

henry sat there for a moment and thought bullshit like that would happen

“i’d like that” henry said simply i would very much not like that

not long after henry said that phillip left and bea entered the room

“did you really slap phillip?”

“yes and it felt bloody good to do so” she beamed

henry laughed at his sister

“mum wants to come to visit but she can’t bring herself to. she thinks it’s her fault since the assassination attempt was on you because she made you go out to the research facility”

“mum can come. im not mad at her or hurt by her if that’s what she thinks”

bea nodded at her brother and then left the room silently

henry let out a sigh and bea entered the room again

“also, not the best time but there are a whole bunch of music playlists people have been making on spotify-”

“bea” henry groaned

“you need to listen to them. the playlist all have to do with you two and i don’t know whilst you’re waiting for your fiancé to wake up maybe you could pick out a song for your wedding”

“you need to stop saying it like that”

“i will ask alex, as soon as he wakes up, who proposed to who, watch me”

bea left the room again and it was just henry and alex

alex and henry

just the two of them like it was and how it should be

stealing moments together

but not like this

this was pain and torture

“please love. come back to me” henry said as he squeezed alex’s hand

not long after henry released his grip, the other hand twitched and henry felt his heart surge up and almost go through his mouth screw the exaggeration

henry looked at him and the heart monitor started to increase slightly but died down when alex’s eyes opened

“love?”

alex gave him a quizzical look and henry almost burst into tears

he didn’t like that look

not one bit

he hated himself for having to witness that look

the look of ‘who are you?’

#im so evil for giving another cliffhanger #i promise you though part four will be the last one #i swear on my life #henry fox mountchristen windsor #alex claremont diaz #bea fox mountchristen windsor #phillip fox mountchristen windsor #zahra bankston #shaan srivastava #red white and royal blue headcanon #red white and royal blue #rwarb headcanon #rwarb #rwrb #casey mcquiston

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iknowyouthinkimbulletproof · 3 years

Text

The Scar- Calum Hood

A/N: another 5sos fic! Calum hood x y/n. Y/n’s gender is female for this fic, it just made it easier to write, my apologies to anyone it might upset, but you can always request. Feel free to correct any mistakes! there will be a part two!

WARNINGS: this fic does contain multiple mentions of an abusive family, read at your own risk.

Not my gif!

plot: y/n and Calum meet for the first time!

2430 words

When y/n was still a child she had always dreamed of becoming a celebrity, like every other kid. unlike the other children though, it seemed impossible to her. To y/n, she sounded horrible, not to mention the looks. y/n had always thought this way because there was never one person to tell her otherwise. It's not like anyone knew what she was struggling with to be fair. Years of practice and motivation from her parents, the only time they encouraged y/n, lead to y/n being the perfect actor in front of others. No one would notice the damage done to y/n because the walls built around her took a team of three to build and would most likely take an even bigger team to deconstruct. Or at least that's what she thought. Apparently all y/n needed was a wrecking ball.

Day after day y/n would wake early to sit in front of her mirror with a brush. She normally wasn’t the type to hate anything, other than her parents, because nothing could compare to the years of trauma her parents had stocked her up on. So when y/n said she hated her foundation brushes, she meant it.

Makeup used to be one of her favorite things, she used it as a pastime. When she was a young teen, she spent most of her time in her room trying as many looks as possible. It wasn’t like her to believe that you could only have one aesthetic, she would change her look up as many times as she wanted. Going from “emo” looks one day to “kawaii” looks the next. It only made sense that she would do the same with her makeup as well. Her parents didn’t seem to mind the looks. Whatever would cover up the bruises they gifted her seemed to be helping them in some twisted way. One day it all fell apart though. Everything her parents had built was destroyed.

The process left y/n with a humongous scar on her face. The scar started right above her right eyebrow. If it had ended below the eyebrow, it would have just seemed like she wanted an eyebrow slit, she might have even been able to cover it easily with a brow pencil. If it had ended there, but it didn’t. It ended right above her jaw bone. It wasn’t straight either. Most scars can go away with time, but hers was too deep. It would never go away. It showed her and the world her past. She hated it.

So, as much as she hated the foundation brushes she used every morning, she continued to use them. That hideous scar needed to be covered up. Especially with all the attention she was getting. Once news came out that two well liked members of y/n’s small hometown abused their child, people were furious. Many tried helping y/n. One of the teachers at school had convinced her to try out for the drama club. She received the leading role in Annie for the school’s play. News spread fast in the town and soon people had begun to call colleges and agencies to come watch her performance, all of which y/n had no clue they were doing. One specific agency had agreed to work with her for free until she got off the ground. She almost rejected the opportunity. That was until her foster mother had informed her that her parents weren’t going to spend as much time in jail as they had hoped. Taking the opportunity had forced y/n to continue high school in Los Angeles. She was also set up with a new foster home. Throughout all of this, the scar was hidden. She didn’t want her chance to leave to be taken away.

Years later and no one she surrounded herself with knew of her past, or even seen her scar. Not even the makeup artists she’s worked with. She always showed up a foundation on and since it was a perfect match to her color, the makeup artists let it slide and just continued to transform her into her characters.

y/n had in fact gotten off the ground, it was now a daily thing for her to be recognized. She even met some celebrities she grew up with.

There was one day though, soon after her 23rd birthday, that y/n had not put on foundation. She felt that she wouldn’t be recognizable without it, so she wanted to try it. She had woken up later than usual then dressed herself in shorts and a tee. She went on a run and low and behold, no one recognized her. She ended up at her usual cafe. Just like every morning, she walked up the cashier and ordered her usual. The cashier, Linda, a nice old lady, who had worked there every morning tried not to stare. It was a weird experience for both of them. Linda could have sworn that y/n looked familiar, but she shrugged it off. y/n was holding back an expression of surprise, she thought that out of everyone Linda would have noticed her. Once she received her coffee, she went to leave. That is when she ran into her wrecking ball, not that she knew it. y/n had spilt her coffee all over the strange man she knew as Calum. She didn’t know much about Calum, she only knew his name from the few times she had heard his name being called for his coffee. She also knew that Cal was well aware of who she was, with makeup that is.

“Im so sorry!” y/n exclaimed. She might’ve still been in shock from the events that had happened so far into the day, but there was no way she could have missed the look she received from the man. It wasn’t one of disgust, but more of one of surprise. The look he had however, didn’t match hers. He wasn’t in surprise from the coffee he had spilt on him, but rather the girl in front of him.

“It’s fine really.” Calum stated as kindly as possible. There was no way he could ever even think of being rude to a lady so beautiful.

“It’s really not, I can pay for the shirt and for whatever you were gonna order.” she offers in a hurried tone even if she wasn’t in a rush. This is because she thought he was trying not to give her pity.

“No need, I actually feel as if I should buy you another one-” he offers, “- it was my fault anyways, i'm so clumsy i’ve been in this situation before.” he lied. y/n was well aware of the lie. Most of the time she was here before him and left after him, she had not seen it happen. An argument be that he’s done it before she moved into the neighborhood, but that also wasn’t true because y/n had witnessed him and Roy struggling to carry a couch into their home while on her run. She had actually had a conversation with Roy and she probably could have become good friends with him if she had tried.

“It's fine really” the words coming out of her mouth this time. Before they could interact anymore though, Linda had appeared to usher them both out of the way to clean the mess that was made. She had begun to lecture Calum, one of her favorite clients, on making a mess when y/n slipped out of the Cafe. she stuck her head back in though to apologize to one last time to both of them before running off.

She had made it home and took a shower when there was a knock at the door. Realizing that her scar was uncovered, she tried to cower.

“Y/n, it’s Roy! I...um brought cookies to celebrate your new movie! Oh and a friend.” That was the last thing she had expected to hear through her door. She knew the friend had to be Calum, she also knew she would have to explain herself to the men. Finally getting the courage, she opened the door. Before you could say anything Calum had begun to talk.

“Hey, it’s you again. What are you doing here?” he asked. Suddenly feeling shy y/n lowered her head.

“Are you ok?” Calum pressed. Looking up again she can see both the boys now wearing concerned faces.

“Y/n?” Roy questioned. Gulping, y/n decided to just rip the bandage off.

“Yep, that's me. Nice to see you Roy.” slightly shaking she opens the door wider as if to invite them in. Roy understood what she meant and walked in, his expression now gone and replaced with his original smile, Calum on the other hand still wore his as he followed his friend in. She led the men into her living room.

“Sorry for the mess.” she states. Calum and Roy looked around to see what she was talking about. Cal’s brows frowning more. There was no mess. To them anyways, to y/n her only thought was that her parents would murder her for having friends over without vacuuming and tidying every corner of the house. They sat down and y/n left to go get them drinks. While in the kitchen she could hear them whispering about her. Wiping any look of sadness from her face, she picked up the drinks and headed back into the living room. Handing them their drinks, she places coasters onto the table for them. They have a light conversation, them being Roy and y/n. Cal was too busy staring at her. He was confused, how could he have not realized. How come he didn’t know that the beauty of both women was actually the beauty of one. Finally giving into the stares y/n sighs.

“I know you’re probably confused about the...um you know-” she says, gesturing to her face, “i just didn’t want anyone to find out about it yet. There’s not really any good memories that came with it. You understand right?”

“Of course!” Roy claims, nodding his head then nudging his friend, who also nodded but not nearly as harsh as Roy had done.

“We won’t say anything if that's what you’re asking” Calum states, he could see that them agreeing with her hadn’t reassured her enough. She smiles gently at him as Roy agrees again. The conversation had now been a lot more free. All three of them were involved now. The conversation drifted to her movie and their music at points. y/n felt bad as she had genuinely gotten a liking to them, Calum in particular. She wanted to talk to them again, but her past was coming to haunt her, she couldn’t. The cookies were amazing, store bought, but amazing. They trio all slowly coming quiet, they had spent hours together chatting. It was now 4 in the afternoon. It seemed as neither man wanted to leave. It had been a while since they had made a new friend. Calum excused himself to the bathroom, leaving y/n and Roy. she tried her best to hint that it may be time for them to leave without seeming rude. Roy helped her bring the cups and trash into the kitchen. He watched as she cleaned each cup multiple times. To him it must have seemed as if she were nervous because she was being watched. To her though, each mug needed to be perfectly spotless or something bad would happen. It was rooted into her mind. If you dug deep enough into it, you would see y/n’s memories of being yelled at and having dishes and pots thrown at her for not having the house perfectly cleaned. Calum, finally out of the bathroom, joined Roy. together they watched the woman dry her hands before turning towards them. Before she could get a word out, Roy suggested that they should get going. Cal’s eyes couldn’t have missed her smile quickly dropping before resuming back to its original place. y/n nods before leading the kind men back to her front door. Roy leaning slightly to give her a hug and saying a quick bye, she responded as she knew how.

“Goodbye.” It was a simple statement really, but she was taught to never try to stay in touch with people outside of necessity. Though she did give him another kind smile, one that shows her teeth in just the slightest way. Now facing Cal who, unlike his friend, was staring at the floor. Roy, waiting for him at the gate, tries his hardest not to watch their interaction. From his point of view, he can see them talking before y/n goes completely still. y/n was in shock, she had never been in this situation before. She didn’t know how to respond. Cal had asked for her number. She didn’t have anyone who wasn’t work related on her phone, should she let herself add a contact for Cal? She didn’t know the answer, she stayed still, evening out her breathing while she felt two different sets of eyes on her. Still as stiff as humanly possible, she smiles and hands her, now open, phone to Calum. He grins so softly that y/n missed it, he handed her his unlocked phone as well. He creates a contact in her phone with all his information before snapping a quick photo of himself. He listed himself as “cute neighbor”, which is quite bold seeing as he had no idea if y/n liked him, and pressed save. On Calum’s phone, y’n had simply only typed her phone number and listed herself as “y/n”. Before she could press save, Calum handed her phone back to her, she looked at the contact and her lips lifted. She turned off her phone and put it in her pocket. She looked back to Calum’s phone and changed her name to “scar girl” before saving the contact and passing the phone back to him. Unfortunately for her, Calum didn’t look at the contact and just shut off the phone. Which might have been better if she thought about it. She didn’t want to see Calum’s reaction to the name, she just hoped it was positive. As they looked into each others eyes, a blush formed onto their cheeks. y/n whispered a silent goodbye before walking back into her home and softly closing the door.

#calum hood x y/n #calum x reader #calum hood #5sos imagine #fic #imagines #lots of love #-lizza

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teethhunter · 3 years

Text

Better than a Dream

Rosegarden Secret Santa Gift for @jealouscartoonist based of their Cinderella AU

The kingdom was absolutely bustling with news of the Grand Ball.

Rumor had it that this event was to find a proper suitor for the Crown Prince, Oscar.

It was to be the largest event of the decade, more open to the public than many events but also with many important and influential people planning to come. There was much talk of the preparations happening at the palace in the weeks leading up to the event as even those with no plans or no means to attend enjoyed participating in the excitement.

Many were sent into a tizzy of daydreams of meeting the love of their life at the ball. With all that talk about the prince those daydreams tended to prominently feature him. For some the daydreams morphed into full on scheming and for others they remained fun fantasies that filled the streets with quiet whispers and giggles of just how romantic it would be to get a moment alone with such a charming and handsome prince.

The rumors, however fun, were patently false.

Yes this was to be an event of massive proportions and King Ozpin certainly hoped that a few people might find a spark of romance for themselves that night but he wasn’t doing this to marry off his adoptive son to the first or most enthusiastic party-goer who made a move.

“Just because that wasn’t what you meant to do, doesn’t mean they won’t try.” Oscar pointed out, voicing his anxieties as the day of the ball grew closer.

“Ah but that’s just part of the fun!” Ozpin replied, a far too pleased look on his face.

“Fun for you maybe…”

“And fun for everyone else too. They are making their own fairytales that prominently feature themselves. The human imagination is a wonderful thing.”

Oscar sighed, he should have known that a chat with Ozpin wouldn’t exactly quell his fears in a normal way but it did sort of help even so, just a little bit. “You’re sure I have to go?”

“You’ve never had a miserable time at a party thus far. You can see your friends, maybe meet someone new… Just try to celebrate with everyone.”

In this kingdom still bustling about a ball lived a beautiful girl named Ruby Rose.

Ruby had never been to a ball. In fact Ruby couldn’t at all recall attending a party where she didn’t have to do all the prep work and clean up, only getting scraps of the food that was served.

She lived in a lovely house with her stepmother Salem, and her two stepsisters, Cinder and Neo. Despite the high status of the family and the fact that they could more than afford to hire servants, Salem treated Ruby as nothing but a scullery maid herself. She made Ruby do all the work around the house while Cinder and Neo did seemingly everything they could to make it more difficult. Cinder was more direct in her ways of showing disdain, she would make huge messes right when Ruby had something important to do,or she would burn Ruby’s possessions for fun. Neo was more subtle, waiting until no one was looking to set up situations that would frame Ruby as having messed up. Putting bleach into the wash with the dark clothing Ruby was cleaning, or slipping an ingredient someone in the family was mildly allergic to into a meal Ruby was preparing.

Ruby had grown rather numb to all their antics after dealing with them for so long.

The step family was of course planning on going to the ball and all the talk of the prince looking to find a suitor had certainly gotten back to them. For the last month Salem had been coaching Cinder in this elaborate scheme to catch the prince’s attention, ensuring that they had planned down to the last little detail.

Ruby thought it all a little silly because no matter how much they planned there was always a change that Cinder wouldn’t run into the prince at all, or he wouldn’t like her if he did meet her, maybe even see through that thin veneer of faked kindness to how cruel Cinder could actually be.

None of that was Ruby’s problem though and she had the sense to not voice any of these opinions. She had other things on her mind.

For the first time in her life she was going to go to a ball. Salem had given permission (however offhandedly, it was still a yes!).

For years, during her limited free time she would work at Pietro’s mechanic shop in town to earn money. She had a certain talent for weapon repairs which were nearly always a necessity for anyone traveling outside the city limits where beasts and bandits lurked.

Most of the money she earned at this job was tucked away to someday move far away from her stepfamily but for the last few months she had saved up the money and bought herself a lovely dress. The style of it might have been a bit unconventional- particularly when in combination with the boots she was planning to wear with it- but the fabric was silky to the touch and a deep red color and trimmed with an intricate lace at the hem. She was incredibly proud to have this tangible proof of the work she had put in to get to this point.

The morning before the ball, Ruby woke up early to go to the market to do the grocery shopping. She knew if she wanted time to get ready she would have to get all of her chores done as quickly as possible because here was always a chance Salem would add new tasks to the list.

The excitement in the air was palpable everywhere she went. It was the only thing anyone around was talking about it seemed. Normally Ruby was happy to talk idly with the owners of the various food stalls but today she just nodded along politely as she filled her basket, not lingering for the chit-chat.

Ruby arrived home, basket heavy with produce heavy on her arm, with plenty of time to complete the rest of her chores. She put away all the food and went immediately to cleaning. She took extra care to avoid her step family as Salem was already getting the girls dressed up and ready meaning they would all probably be looking to take their anxiety out on her.

By early afternoon Ruby has finished up and finally can retire to her room to rest and get ready. Her room was in the cellar, not much larger than a closet. It could get cold and damp in there during the winter and after downpours of rain though right now it was pleasantly cool compared to the hot summer weather.

She had done a lot to make it cozy and comfortable. Every inch of wall was decorated, her bed piled up with blankets, and her shelf lined with books she bought over the years from a thrift store in town.

When Ruby opened the door to her room she saw something that made her blood run cold. Cinder, perfectly dressed up and ready for the ball, perching on the end of her bed, holding Ruby’s dress.

Cinder smirked with an awful twist to her lips when she saw Ruby, like she was laying in wait for this moment, a lit candle held in one hand.

The dress had been hidden at the back of her closet so there was no way Cinder just tumbled on it.

“I thought you were joking about going to the ball. You can’t be serious.” Cinder said with a mock laugh.

“No… I wasn’t joking.” Ruby’s voice already held a hint of defeat, already knowing where this was going to go.

“Do you seriously think anyone there would be interested in /you/?” Disgust radiated from Cinder in those words.

“That’s not why I-” Ruby was cut off before she could finish her sentence.

“And this dress. You’ll be turned away at the door for wearing something so low class.” Cinder held the dress up as if appraising it for it’s every flaw, as if it was too hideous to look at for too long.

“I…” That hurt more than it should for how many insulting things Cinder had said to her over the years. She had grown a rather thick skin about it but this dress was really important to her.

“Really, dear sister, I should save you from the embarrassment. You could tarnish our family name.” Cinder brought the candle up until the flame of it licked the lace trim, making it curl, then crisp, then catch fire.

“Please stop.” Ruby whispers, knowing it was useless, she knew what was about to happen the moment she saw Cinder in here.

It didn’t completely catch fire, put a few flames eat at the edges and creep up the bottom of the skirt, leaving it a mess of holes and ash. Cinder says nothing else to her, simply unceremoniously dropping the dress in a pile on the ground, stepping on it as if to put out a still burning ember on her way out.

~~~~~

Ruby waited until the last of the burning embers died down before picking the dress up and bundling it in her lap as she sat on her bed. She sat frozen like that in silence, her ears ringing as she tried to bite back tears. There was no way she could mend this in time for the ball. She couldn’t afford to get new fabric even if she had the time.

All she had wanted was to share this one special night with everyone who was so excited about it but that was ruined.

“I wish I didn’t live with these awful people.” She muttered to herself. “I wish they would just disappear.” She took a breath and all at once any anger she held just deflated into grief as tears finally spilled. “No… I just wish I could go to this ball.”

In her mind she had held this event as a moment of defiant freedom, that if she could never escape Salem and she lived the rest of her life like this then at least she got this one wonderful moment.

“You called?” A voice broke the silence, startling Ruby so badly she nearly fell off the bed.

In front of her was a familiar man- er Fairy, technically. He stood in proper Fairy Godmother attire, a clearly enchanted black dress with translucent red fairy wings fluttering behind him. In contrast with the traditional look was his much less conventional scythe-style magic wand at his side and the full martini glass held precariously in his hand.

“Oh! …. You.” Ruby sighed in relief as she got her bearings after being so startled.

“Well don’t go sounding too thrilled about seeing your Fairy Godmother kiddo. You summoned me, remember?” He put on the airs of being dramatically offended though his smile told a different story.

Ruby wiped the lingering tears from her eyes before she spoke. “No it’s… sorry, it’s good to see you actually Qrow.”

In all honesty she had almost forgotten that wishing for things summoned him. She didn’t exactly even know why that happened. When she asked before all she got was a shrug from Qrow and some half-excuses about the ‘mysterious ways of magic’.

It had been a long time since she’d wished for anything actually. Her memories of her childhood were blurry at best but she could vaguely recall how she’d make all sorts of silly wishes just to have him come visit. He was odd and always a little tipsy but he was also so much nicer than her step-family that it made her earlier years with them much more tolerable.

“I didn’t actually mean to call you, it was sort of an accident.” She admitted after a moment.

“Hmm, well even if it was an accident, I’m here now so why don’t you tell an ‘ol Qrow your woes. Looks like you’ve had a rough time of it.” He walked with a strut in his step over the small distance to her bed, sitting down next to her. He took a long drink from his seemingly never emptying glass as he waited for her to talk.

Ruby started and stopped her attempts to explain several times before she got all the words out, still stumbling over herself. She gave more detail than could possibly ever be needed but this was the first time in a long time she ever let all these emotions out. She had friends in town but she never ever let any of them know the cruelty of her ‘family’. Her Fairy Godmother already knew of these things so for once it was safe.

She began to cry again as her words flowed. Qrow was content to listen in his somewhat drunkenly glazed over state.

“-and now I can’t go because my dress is ruined and it’s not like I have anything else I could wear and the ball is in just a few hours and I’m never going to get a chance like this again.”

Ruby finally took a pause and Qrow chuckled.

“Well if it’s only an outfit you need then I can fix you up fine.”

“Wait, really?” It hadn’t actually crossed her mind that he could help with that..

“Yeah that’s what I’m here for. Mmm, but there’s limits to it, I think you remember that.” Qrow said, fiddling with is scythe-wand as he got ready to do some magic.

Yes Ruby remembered there were limits, there were always strange caveats to any wish she made but right now she could barely bother to care. “Okay! That’s fine, I don’t mind as long as I get to go. Wait um what are the limits?” “It’ll wear off at the stroke of midnight. Indefinite magic gives the worst sort of headache to do.”

“Are you sure that’s not just a hangover?” Ruby mumbed, being immediately met with a shove and grumble from Qrow.

“Shush you. No sassing your godmother. Magic works in mysterious ways.

Speaking of which, magicking you up might make you a little harder to recognize. Not that you’ll look different, just a side effect of illusionary magic.”

Ruby nodded along, none of those terms sounded awful and now she was just in a rush to make it happen. “Okay goes away at midnight and I’m sorta in disguise, I can handle that.”

“Great, go put that dress on then and I’ll get you all set. Best to work from a base product to build onto y’know.”

“Get out of my room then please?” Ruby started ushering him out of her room so she could have space to change.

“M’kay, I’ll wait outside.” He swayed as he walked out of the room, leaning against the wall in the hall as she got ready.

Ruby carefully slipped the dress on, as if trying to prevent it from crumbling more than it already had. Dark ash smeared her skin as the burnt bits brushed against her. She put her boots and accessories on to finish the look. One glance at her small, cracked mirror had her frowning. She looked absolutely ridiculous. It took her longer than it should have to build back up the confidence to call Qrow back in but eventually she did.

“Oh good, you’re all ready.” Qrow came to stand beside her. “Time for the magic words, you know the drill.” He lazily waved his scythe-wand over her head while in a dramatic and slurred fashion exclaiming “Bippity boppity boo!”

Ruby could feel the hum of magic before she could see it. The dress seemingly mended itself all at once, fitting even better than before. She was so captivated by how well it worked that she did notice the other alterations until she took a step and immediately lost her balance, sticking her arms out to keep herself from falling. Her nice practical knee high boots were now sparkling ruby red heeled shoes.

“Why did you give me stilts to walk on?” She asked, still trying to keep herself upright.

“Isn’t that just what people wear to these things?” Qrow shrugged, completely unbothered.

“I’m going to trip and die before I get there.” Ruby commented half to herself, but she didn’t want to be ungrateful and he had done something wonderful for her.

“Thank you for this.” She eventually added.

“Yeah yeah, any time. I’d love to stick around but I do have things to do, places to be. So go enjoy that ball, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” He said, seemingly uncomfortable with the appreciation and in a rush to escape it, he disappeared in a blink.

Ruby walks the length of her room several times, trying to get a hang of walking in these shoes.

She didn’t dare leave her room until she was certain her step family had already left for the ball because she dreadd what Cinder might do if she saw Ruby all dressed up- or worse what Salem might do.

~~~~

When finally she is sure it is safe to leave, she heads out immediately to the palace.

The ball was in full motion when she arrived. It’s the most beautiful thing she has ever seen with people laughing, drinking, and dancing the night away to beautiful music performed by a live orchestra. There were tables filled with the most luxurious snacks and servants going around to cater to guests as well. There were of course guards posted around but even they seemed to be enjoying themselves. Ruby was a bit out of sort, unsure what to do with herself but more than content to just take it all in.

She has been seated in a quieter corner, enjoying some snacks when a man sidles up next to her to start a conversation which leads into asking her to dance. She politely declined but this repeated itself once again with an entirety different and more persistent lad who was determined to dance with her. She wouldn’t be able to dance in these silly shoes even if she knew how to or wanted to so she less than politely bid him farewell and walked away, trying to find somewhere she won’t be pestered.

She weaved through the crowds, paying little attention to who was there. It was during this escape that she stumbled terribly, instinctually grabbing at something to keep herself from falling on her face. The tearing sound of fabric was audible as she realized she grabbed the sleeve of some woman’s dress. The horrified screech from that woman was what made her realize the person she had grabbed was none other than Cinder.

Ruby stole a glance at the scene, Cinder having clearly been mid-conversation, now with a torn sleeve and wine covering her whole front from a glass that had been jostled.

Ruby quickly ducked her head, hiding her face, planning how to escape, praying that Cinder hadn’t noticed who she was. As it turned out, an escape plan was unnecessary as Cinder stormed off and away from all the prying eyes watching this scene play out.

Ruby stayed knelt there, stewing in her own mortification, wishing in her head to just disappear.

“Hey, are you okay?” Someone asked, bending down and offering her a hand up.

“I’m… fi- fine?” Her voice cracked mid word as she took his offered hand and finally got a proper look at him. Her gaze sliding from his face to the circlet on his head. Without that, she would have no clue who he was, she had never seen the prince before after all.

She had made no move to stand yet but Prince Oscar had also made no move to help her up either. They were frozen like this, hand held, staring at each other.

For Ruby it was the shock of meeting the prince and him kindly trying to help her (and he was as pleasant looking as everyone said).

For Oscar it was because when his eyes met her he was utterly and inexplicably captivated. His heart skipped a long beat and he couldn’t seem to look away.

In the same instant they both snapped out of it. Oscar helped her up in one swift motion, completely red in the face as he processed just how long he’d been staring at her.

“I’m-” Ruby was instantly interrupted.

“No I’m-” Oscar tried to say.

“Sorry” “Sorry.”

They said in the same moment, looking down and away from each other.

They fumbled over each other’s apologies for another moment and finally got the courage to look at each other again. Another pause, just for a breath and they both laugh.

“It’s not a big deal. If I’m being honest you sort of saved me there? I had been trying to get out of that conversation for a while and that definitely took care of it.” Oscar explained, rubbing the back of his neck as he confessed that.

Ruby held in another laugh, it would be very difficult to explain just how funny this situation was to her personally. “Well I’m happy to be a help?”

She shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot as she was quickly becoming acutely aware of just how many people were still watching them. “I should probably go do- do something else, something ball related, you know.”

She turned away and tried to disappear into the crowd, headed outside to get some fresh air. “Wait!” Oscar called but she didn’t seem to hear him. There wasn’t a thought in his head as he followed right after her out to one of the balconies. It was quiet out there and a major relief for him to have a break from people constantly wanting something from him.

When she noticed him approaching he flustered again, he had no reasonable explanation for why he followed her other than this undercurrent need to get to know her.

“Are you enjoying the ball?” He asked, internally cursing himself for such a bland introduction.

Ruby was more at ease without so many people around. Even if it was a little nerve racking to be speaking to someone so important, she was somehow less on edge than when anyone else at the ball had approached her. “I don’t really have anything to compare it with but it’s sort of amazing?” It was true, it was all so grand and amazing, even if she did have to dodge a couple of people it was still one the most incredible things she’d ever been a part of.

“Oh, so it’s your first time attending a ball then? I’m glad it’s been good.”

“Yeah I mean, all the books I loved when I was little had castles and grand balls in them and I never thought it would actually be like those stories. Turns out yeah it really is.” Ruby took a seat on the bench to finally get off her feet.

“I loved those sorts of stories growing up too. I guess it’s weird now to think about how people dream of becoming royalty, being a prince or princess. I went from living on a farm to being adopted into this and then those stories were less fun to read.” He hadn’t really read any books like that since he moved into the palace, now that he thought about it. They all lost their charm.

“I always wanted to be a knight in those stories actually.” Ruby admitted.

“Oh really?” Somehow that didn’t seem surprising at all, he had known her for no more than a few minutes but there was a certain spark to her that made that so believable.

“Yeah I just loved the idea of protecting people that can’t protect themselves, y’know?”

“Remind me to introduce you to the castle guards sometime, I really think you’d like them.” Oscar noted. “But that’s a really nice dream you have though. I think sometimes imagining things is more fun than the reality of it? I’m very lucky to be in this position but living it made dreams of it more dull...I’m sorry I’m rambling!”

Ruby covered her mouth to conceal a grin. “No, it’s fine. I know what you mean but I want to believe that sometimes reality can be even better than dreams if it’s the right reality for you.”

“That’s- hm I think I’d like to believe that too.” Oscar mumbled, leaving them sitting in comfortable silence side by side for a long moment.

“Would you like to go back inside and dance?” He eventually asked, worried she might grow bored with him otherwise.

Ruby shook her head immediately “Oh please no! I mean I’d love to but… erm you saw me trip back there, I don’t really want to have a repeat performance.”

“Okay then do you want to go on a walk?” Oscar just didn’t want to leave her side, not yet.

“That would be nice actually.” Ruby didn’t particularly want to end their conversation either.

Like a proper gentleman, Oscar offered her his arm to link together which abated any of her lingering anxiety about tripping again.

Oscar led her through a quieter path out of the castle and out along a cobble pathway that snaked around the rear courtyards and into the gardens. Lit only by the moonlight it was gorgeous, overflowing with different flowers and vines covering every surface other than the path itself. Their evening was filled with conversation, once past the initial awkwardness they slipped into comfortably chatting about all sorts of meaningless things.

Time had melted away for the both of them.

That was, until the gonging sound of the clock tower atop the castle interrupted Ruby mid sentence.

She went pale.

“I have to go.” She said, pulling away from him. She could already feel the magic beginning to fade as she hurried away.

“Wait come back!” Oscar held a hand out like he wanted to stop her, like he hoped she would listen and turn around for even a moment.

Just before she was out of Oscar’s view she stumbled once more, the heel of one of the slippers getting caught between two stones in the path.

Oscar flinched, taking one step forward. “Oh, are you okay?”

She didn’t have time to waste and she hated these stupid shoes anyways so she just slid her foot out of it and kept on running.

Ruby was well on her way out when Oscar stooped down to pick up her shoe. The clock had struck midnight and that slipper had reverted back to its old form as a boot. “You left your...boot?” He muttered to himself in complete confusion as he stared at it.

Ruby’s dress was back to it’s charred state by the time she had left the palace property. She hobbled her way home with one boot and one foot with nothing more than a sock on it.

Sneaking back inside her home went better than she was expecting. She was able to get to her room and change out of the ruined dress without anyone seeing her. None of that stopped Cinder from being in a foul mood and barging demanding Ruby draw her a bath. This time Ruby couldn’t even claim that Cinder’s mood wasn’t her fault, even if Cinder wasn’t aware that it was Ruby who had interrupted her plans.

~~~

The morning after the ball Oscar sulked through breakfast. He just couldn’t get his mind off the girl he had spoken with at the ball.

Four of his guards who were more just friends of his than anything else often joined him for meals when there was no formal gathering in place. Today was no different but there was a certain tension in the air.

“Soooo, how was the ball?” One of his guards, Nora asked, breaking the silence with a smile that told him she was already perfectly aware of how it went. “It was fine. It was a ball.” Oscar answered blandly, still staring at his food that he pushed around on his plate.

“Just fine? Hmm well I heard you disappeared with some pretty girl and didn’t show back up all night.” Nora pressed more, leaning in with an intense expression like she was rearing for a full interrogation. Ren put a hand on her shoulder to try and rein her in.

“Oh you met someone?” Jaune asked and Oscar genuinely couldn’t tell if he was teasing or if he was completely out of the loop. “What’s her name?”

Oscar shrunk in on himself with a quiet sigh.“I don’t know, I didn’t ask.”

“Wait wait wait, you spend all night with this girl and you don’t even ask her name? How are you going to find her again?” Pure horror present in Nora’s voice as she asked that.

“I guess I probably won’t.” Oscar said like he was trying to come to terms with that himself.

“If you are meant to meet again, I think your paths will cross.” Pyrrha chimed in right as Oscar was getting ready to leave the table.

The entire day following Oscar felt like he was in a daze. He couldn’t concentrate for any of his lessons, which got him scolded by one of his etiquette teacher, Glynda, and told to leave early since he clearly ‘had his head in the clouds’.

Even King Ozpin commenced on it in passing with that odd smile on his face that always irked Oscar just a little bit.

When he finally had enough of all the ‘knowing’ comments and teasing he dug out his commoner clothes from his closet and slipped them on. He used to sneak out much more often because sometimes he missed being looked at like a normal person. He hadn’t done this in a while and the clothes didn’t quite fit anymore but he really needed some space.

Oscar wandered aimlessly through the maze of streets in the city surrounding the palace. For the first time all day he felt relaxed as he blended into the crowd with on stares or comments. There was always the slightest bit of tension he held from always having to perform in a princely manner, but here no one expected anything of him.

He was window shopping at an antique store when someone passing by catches his eye.

Maybe Pyrrha’s comment about paths crossing if they were meant to wasn’t so silly because he sees this girl and his brain goes completely fuzzy like it was trying to piece things together while his heart skips in a way that’s becoming very familiar to him.

“Hey wait!” He called out, jogging to catch up with her, not paying mind to how odd this might seem to bystanders.

Ruby doesn’t immediately realize it’s her that’s being called out to. Not until he catches up to her. She started, stopping mid-stride to look at him. Despite his change of clothes she recognized him immediately. She was nervous and happy and confused all at the same time. She never thought she’d see him again and didn’t think he would care to talk to her again either.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to scare you. I guess that was pretty weird to do.” Oscar said apologetically, realizing this was the second time in a row they had an awkward greeting.

“No, no it’s okay I just wasn’t expecting to see you again!” Ruby explained, unsure what to say or do now. “Do you come around here often?” She asked, just to fill the silence.

“Sometimes it’s just nice to be able to take a walk without people staring, you know?” Oscar answered, genuinely thrilled to talk to her about literally anything right now.

“Won’t people recognize you?” Ruby thought he was fairly recognizable, but then again she also had a whole night to take in the details about him.

“Well no one has so far, I think when people aren’t expecting to see me I sort of blend into the background.” The only person to recognize him thus far was her, but that was because he came running up to her so obviously.

“You weren’t expecting to see me but I didn’t blend into the background for you.”

“Oh it’s your eyes…” Oscar tapered off quickly, not wanting to admit that he’d been subconsciously scanning the crowd every moment he was out, hoping to run into her again.

“Hey, have you eaten lunch yet?” He changed the subject abruptly.

“I haven’t but-”

“Well, would you care to join me? There’s this little bakery I love around here.”

Ruby was anxious both because the longer the less chores she was getting done but also because she didn’t have the money on her to pay for lunch. But he looked so bright eyed and hopeful and that smile was killing her.

“I can’t be out for too long, but okay.” She answered finally.

“Really? Great!” Oscar was nearly bouncing on his feet as he offered her his arm reflexively, an overly formal gesture but sweet nonetheless.

Ruby laughed quietly but took his arm, ignoring the couple odd glances they earned.

Oscar led the way to this small corner shop filled to the brim with various baked goods. The sweet scent made her mouth water. She looked at all the different offerings as Oscar chatted with the old lady running the place, listing off the pastries he wanted to get.

He turned to Ruby after a moment and asked “What would you like?”

It hadn’t occurred to her that he was offering to pay for her until then, she didn’t have the money on her to actually buy anything so she was planning on just quietly not ordering anything.

She paused, internally scrambling to make a decision. “One of these?” She pointed to a flaky chocolate croissant that had caught her eye earlier. He picked up on her hesitance quickly and ordered both that and a couple of his personal favorites for her to try.

Once they gather up all their pastries they sit at the one small round table next to the window, settling down.

“ Okay, weird question but it’s been killing me ever since I last saw you.” Oscar asked.

Ruby nodded, giving permission for him to go ahead and ask.

“How do I phrase this,,,,When you left, you dropped your boot? But you definitely weren’t wearing a boot before that?”

Ruby blinked at him then laughed. “Yeah I get why you’d be thinking about htat for so long. It’s well, it was magic? And no I’m not joking! I really mean it.”

At first Oscar gave a slightly doubtful look but she seemed so genuine and there was no other good explanation either. “You know someone that can use magic then? Wow that’s pretty rare nowadays.”

There were traces of magic, some people were born with minor magical abilities and there were healers that cultivated that particular skill but it was rare to have someone perform magic for something like this.

“Yeah I’ve known him for my whole life I guess. Kinda an odd guy but also he’s always been there or me so I guess I can’t complain.”

With that they fell into easy conversation once again and once again time slipped away.

Until she was abruptly brought back to reality from a comment by the old lady running the shop.

“Are you two planning to just honeymoon it here or what? We’re losing daylight!” She asked, halfway between amused and annoyed at the two lovebirds.

Ruby froze, glancing out the window to note that indeed the sun was going down.

“Oh no, I have to go.” She should’ve already been working on dinner and none of her other chores were done yet, scrubbing the floors always was so time consuming.

She was out the door before he could even call out to her, almost impossibly quickly.

“I didn’t even ask you your name. Oscar grumbles as he buries his face against the cafe table.

~~~~

Quite predictably Ruby was immediately scolded when she arrived home. She hadn’t washed Neo’s clothes in time and all her other chores were left to do too. She had to work far into the night without dinner to get it all done, though she wasn’t too bothered after having a lovely lunch with Oscar. She figured that would be the last time she saw him, that fate decided to give her that nice little bit of closure with him, one nice happy moment she could think about as her knees ached from crawling on them scrubbing floors.

~~~~

Oscar however wasn’t at all satisfied in that being the last time they met. In fact had been skipping out on his lessons and duties, sneaking out in commoner’s clothes constantly. It was not like him at all, normally he was highly responsible and took his role seriously.

After several days of this, King Ozpin interrupted one of his escape attempts. “If you needed a break, you could always just ask for one.”

Oscar, very much having not expected Ozpin to be lurking by the exit he always snuck through to get to town, startled. “I’m- it’s not that- it’s-”

Ozpin just nodded, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “You met someone.” He answered for Oscar.

Oscar just sighed and nodded.

“Well, a little birdy was telling me about this girl who works at a mechanic’s shop. Pietro’s I believe? Interesting thing about her is she’s got bright silver eyes, a pretty rare trait.” Ozpin explained casually.

“I… didn’t tell you she has silver eyes?” As odd as it was, Oscar had grown somewhat accustomed to Ozpin’s odd ability to know things he really shouldn’t be able to and knew that the half shrug and smirk he was given at that comment was all he would receive.

Ozpin stepped aside, clearing the way to the exit and gesturing for Oscar to go on.

Oscar began lingering around that shop whenever he could. He didn’t see the girl that day, or the day after that. In fact it took almost a whole week and he was beginning to feel rather creepy for doing this.

He just wanted to know her name. If it turned out that she wanted nothing to do with him after that, then so be it.

But finally his determination paid off and she was there that day. He didn’t approach her while she worked, not wanting to interrupt and be incredibly rude.

Instead he waited until she was off shift and out of the store, making himself very visible as he approached her. He had a whole thing to say planned out but it all left his brain the moment she saw him and looked happy to see him.

“Sorry to ah- ambush you here but I- someone told me where to find you and-” He just couldn’t string a sentence together. “What’s your name?” He finally blurted out.

Ruby was surprised to see him but already grinning at his awkward entrance. “Ruby, it’s Ruby.”

“Ruby.” He repeated back to her with a look of wonder on his face that made her stomach flip. He said it like it was the most beautiful word he had ever heard.

“So Ruby, you work at a mechanic shop?” Oscar asked, as if he was looking for an excuse to say her name again.

“Yeah, I work on weapons mostly, it’s fun.”

“Weapons huh? How come?” He wanted to know everything about her, he realized.

“Well… same reason I dreamed of being a knight as a kid I think? It helps protect people, in any way I can manage. That and the way weapons are put together is sort of like a puzzle? I find it calming I think and- oh, I do have to get going soon though.” She interrupted her self, knowing full well that they could talk for hours again.

“Come visit sometime!” Oscar said in a rush, not wanting to lose the chance to see her again.

“I can show you around, show you what it looks like when it’s not crowded with people for a big party.”

“If you’re sure that’s okay…” Ruby wanted to see him again too and seeing the rest of the palace sounded really interesting too.

“Absolutely! It won’t be a problem, no one around will mind.There’s always a guard up at the front gate, just tell them who you are and they’ll let you in.”

Ruby felt warm at the implication he'd mentioned her to enough people that the guards would know who she was. She nodded. “I’ll stop by as soon as I can, I promise.”

She left for home feeling light and with every intention of visiting him.

~~~~~

Bogged down by chores, it’s nearly two weeks later when she first gets a chance to visit. At the entrance to the castle stood a tall red haired woman in armor standing guard.

Ruby opens her mouth to introduce herself but doesn’t even have to as the guard is already opening the door. “It is very good to meet you.” she says. Ruby guessed Oscar really wasn’t exaggerating about the guards knowing who she was.

“Wait here and the Prince will be right down.” The guard assured.

Ruby stood in the main hall, looking at all the tapestries and portraits lining the walls as she waited.

Oscar showed up only minutes later, looking ecstatic and slightly out of breath as if he’d been running to get to her.

He reached out to her then hesitated. Like he wants to hug her or some show of affection but his etiquette training kicked in.

He held his hand out, palm up.

Ruby wasn’t entirely sure what to do but took a guess and put her hand very lightly on top of it.

His fingers curled around hers as he lifted her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles.

This was by noble standards a very appropriate greeting for a woman he highly respected- if not a little strange because of their status difference. Yet it felt more intimate than just about anything else he could have done. She stood there,red faced and dizzy as he lowered their hands but still held hers in his. “I’m glad you actually came.”

“I promised I would, didn’t I?”

“Well I’m very glad you keep your promises then… I missed you.” He mumbled the last part before clearing his throat.”May I give you a tour?”

“Of course, lead the way your majesty.”

Oscar walked with her hand-in-hand through all the major parts of the castle. Quickly his tour got off track to them discussing other things with him briefly stating what room they were in but otherwise not bothering to give details about it, much more interested in the conversation at hand.

The sun is setting once again when they part ways, Oscar inviting her back any time she wants.

~~~~

Rumor has it that the Prince is seriously courting a girl. She is over many times a week and several servants whisper of the fact they have seen the two snuggled up together when they thought no one was looking. Even without that damning evidence, the bright mood the Prince was constantly in told the story plainly enough.

Ruby had taken to visiting the palace rather than working at the shop. She knew Pietro would welcome her back no matter how long it had been since she last worked. Still, it made her a bit anxious to not be working on her savings currently but for once in her life she was so very happy.

~~~~

Oscar had been serious about properly introducing Ruby to his guard friends. She got along with them easily, so easily in fact that they had begun teaching her the basics of fighting out in the training yard.

Whenever Oscar knew that was going to happen, he tried to get out of his duties early to go watch, it was always worth it to see.

This time around he got there just in time to watch Nora flip Ruby, pinning her to the ground.

“Nora… please try not to kill her, I think Oscar might actually get mad at us then.” Jaune pointed out as Ruby stood up and brushed herself off. “Oh come on, I’m not that breakable.” Ruby laughed. “You next then.” She grabbed one of the wooden training swords and stood at the ready for him.

A few parries from either side before Ruby went on the offensive, half accidentally Jaune over the head with it.

“Ow okay please don’t kill me either.” Jaune whined cradling his head.

Ruby snorted in an attempt to hide a laugh, completely unable to feign concern. “Hm but if I kill you do I get to take your place and be a guard?”

“What! No! Now I’m afraid you’re actually going to kill me.”

“You don’t need to kill Jaune to have a place here. You are more than welcome to stay” Pyrrha said while sympathetically rubbing Jaune’s shoulder, the only one willing to comfort him in his dramatics.

“I think there’s another role you’d prefer over being a guard though.” Ren noted, backed by Nora wagging her eyebrow to punctuate it with implication.

Ruby was less embarrassed now by this than she used to be. This teasing was commonplace now. There was no way it wasn’t glaringly obvious to everyone that the prince was courting her. Honestly she hadn’t put a whole lot of thought into it, it sort of just had been washing over her. Shows of affection are basically constant and they weren’t exactly secret about it even if they weren’t exactly clear about what they were to each other either.

~~~

It became a regular thing for Ruby to join Oscar for lunch or dinner on days when she visited. It was during one of these meals that she first met the King who apparently had the time to join them that particular day. King Ozpin was quite kind and welcoming to her, that dinner actually wasn’t nearly as awkward as she was expecting it to be. The only thing was that he kept saying things that made it sound like he’d met her before. It was odd but also hard to put her finger on exactly. When the meal was over and they parted ways Oscar assured that he was just like that but that the King really did seem to approve of her.

~~~

Some days she and Oscar would go spend their time in the palace library together. Usually they would just quietly enjoy having the other around, leaning gently against each other as they read. Sometimes they would talk about the books they were reading and get completely sidetracked. On this particular day they were going through the shelves of storybooks, quick and simple to read but filled with nostalgia. One particular set of books caught Ruby’s eye, pages faded to yellow with age and a gold trim around the edges. She grabbed for them before she noticed what she was doing, thumbing through the pages looking at the print and little illustrations. She hadn’t noticed how long she had been standing there when Oscar snuck up behind her and wrapped his hands around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder.

“What’d you have there?” He whispered.

“These books, I just, I remember them from when I was little but I think you’re missing one?” There were three books she found on the shelf from this series but there should be a fourth one, the one she remembered best. “My mom- my birth mom used to read these too but my favorite was this one that had these warriors who could turn all the beasts in the forest to stone with their eyes? And well, they had silver eyes which I thought was so cool because both me and her had them too.” Ruby explained, she couldn’t even recall how the stories went, just like she couldn’t really recall her mother. Sometimes she’s sure she just dreamed it all up.

~~~

Oscar wasn’t too keen on giving gifts. It felt odd to do when he had so much wealth, like he was trying to buy affection. Today though was different. It was Ruby’s birthday and he’d been looking for this particular perfect gift all month long. Once she arrived he could hardly wait to give it to her.

“You’ve had that silly grin on since I’ve gotten here, it’s making me nervous..” Ruby said, eyeing him carefully.

“Okay, okay, I was going to wait until later but, well- hold on.” He turned tail, running up to his room and back to go grab the unwrapped present, returning soon after. “Here you go.”

In her hands he placed a book with those yellowed pages and gold trim. She stared at the title ‘The Warriors of the Woods ’, her fingers tracing the letters in awe. Her cheeks ached from the grin stuck on her face as dragged Oscar into a tight hug.

“Thank you so much!”

“Happy birthday.” Oscar said as he hugged her in return.

~~~

Ruby’s step-family was growing ever more suspicious as she kept returning home happy and grinning, humming songs to herself. Nothing seemed to manage to sour her mood whatsoever and every happy moment she showed only earned her more disdain and chores from Salem. Ruby did them all without complaint.

~~~

With Ruby around so often, Oscar began constantly skipping his lessons. All of his tutors eventually came up with a way to circumvent this by simply pulling Ruby into his lessons as well. Oobleck more or less ambushed them in the garden and gave them no room to politely escape as he handed them textbooks, paper, and pencils, diving right into a history lesson of the internal politics of the Kingdom of Vale.

One thing Oscar had learned about Ruby early on was that she hated being forced to sit still if it wasn’t her choice. She began to fidget, then doodle, then as all this information droned on made her head buzz she began to drift off into a nap.

Oscar nudged her awake a couple times before taking his paper and writing her a little note.

‘Think you’ll survive?’ He slid that over to her just before she began to doze again.

‘I don’t know! Is he always like this?’ Her writing was scrawls that took Oscar a moment to decipher but once he did he quietly laughed.

‘Pretty much, why do you think I skip out on this and spend time with you instead?’ He replied.

‘Saying I’m better than this isn’t a compliment :( ‘

This was the first, but definitely not the last time Ruby was brought into his lessons. Any time they could get away with it they passed notes and laughed like little school kids to pass the time.

~~~

When Oscar was having a bad day, he liked to go climb up into the rafters of the stables. The palace had a large stable where they kept the horses and a few chickens roamed freely. It felt familiar and safe to him. It wasn’t often that he had a truly bad day but today he was feeling very off. Ruby had come to visit that day and while it cheered him up in the way it always did, it didn’t exactly fix everything. That day Oscar decided to show Ruby his hiding spot in the rafters. He led her to the stable and showed her how he climbed up there, sitting comfortably on one of the beams.

“You don’t have to tell me but, is something wrong?” She asked, he had been so quiet today and they had never gone to spend time out here like this before.

“It’s nothing… nothing in particular, just a bad day, I guess.” Oscar admitted. “It’s silly, I mean it’s hard not to feel guilty about having a bad day when I have so much going or me.”

Ruby scooted closer to him, wrapping an arm around his waist. “I don’t really think it’s silly, if you want to talk about it, I’m right here.” She rests her head against his.

Oscar took a moment to try to put it into words. “I’m thankful, for everything Ozpin has done for me. I’m a prince now, and he doesn’t even push all these outdated royal rules on me or anything. But… I didn’t exactly grow up this way? I grew up on a farm, and sometimes I just miss how simple everything was there and I miss my aunt and everything else.”

Ruby understood then why he would want to go hide out here and in a way she could imagine how overwhelming this must be for him since what she’s experienced of palace life was awfully overwhelming to her too.

She didn’t think about it for even a moment before she turned her head to press her lips to his in a sweet reassuring kiss.

Now, affection was shown quite freely between them in private, nearly constantly touching. Kisses, on the cheek, forehead, back of the hand, those were all commonplace for them nowadays. Yet this right here was their first proper kiss.

They were both a bit red in the face at the realization but it felt like it hardly needed addressing, like it was inevitable.

“Hey when you said Ozpin doesn’t push outdated rules on you? I mean he’s not going to have a problem with…” Ruby gestured between the two of them.

Oscar laughed, kissing her in return finally before answering. “I think he’s all for this. He approves of you and he wants me to be happy, and well, you make me happy.”

~~~

Ruby shouldn’t have been surprised when one night she came home to find that book Oscar had gifted her a charred pile of illegible paper in the middle of her room. Cinder had always had a knack for knowing just which of Ruby’s possessions would hurt the most to lose. That, and the whole family had been completely furious with Ruby being so upbeat lately that of course Cinder would do something like that.

Somehow it is so much worse than the dress being burnt. She re-read this book every night before she went to bed to remember what she could of the family she once had and to remember that someone cared enough about her to go through all the effort to find it for her.

She cleaned up the pile, feeling cold and empty and like she was entirely trapped here. Maybe it was just because she’d summoned him last time Cinder burnt something of hers, or maybe she just desperately needed someone to talk to in general but once she is calm she whispers “I wish I could see my Fairy Godmother.”

Once again Qrow appears in front of her in a blink. “Y’know, you can call me when you aren’t crying.” He sighs. “What’s it about this time? I thought the last gig went well. Heard you even snagged yourself a prince.”

“Where did you hear that?! I- never mind, it doesn’t matter.”

“Am I wrong?” Qrow raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms.

“That’s not the point. But even if I did you shouldn’t pat yourself on the back about it. You nearly killed me with those heels.” Ruby was trying to sound serious but having something meaningless to argue over was such a relief it was difficult to keep that tone of voice.

“Oh I’m definitely patting myself on the back. When you two get hitched that makes me royalty by extension.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works.” Ruby mumbled, hiding a smile by ducking her head.

“Well, enough of that. You never answered my question, what’d you need?”

“I don’t know. Nothing, I guess. I think I’m just tired of this place.”

It was nothing he could fix anyways, not permanently at least probably. “Could you stay for a while? We could play games like when I was little?” She asked, of all things she thinks that might cheer her up right now.

Qrow seemed a bit confused and maybe even a touch startled at that statement but hid it quickly. “Didn’t think you remembered any of that.”

“You were always around, it’d be a little hard to forget!”

“Hmm…” For a moment he looked to be deep in thought before he shook his head. “I guess I can spare a little time.”

~~~

It was a few days before Ruby visited the palace again, longer than she had gone without visiting in quite a while.

When finally she does come by, Oscar is visibly worried.

He greets her with a kiss but lingers close. “Did something happen?”

“No, no I was just really busy.” Ruby said blandly.

Oscar had an expression that said he knew that wasn’t the whole story but he wouldn’t press her on it either.

“Just some family trouble, talk about it later okay?” Ruby added to try to quell his concerns.

Before they could continue their conversation they were interrupted.

“Ah, you’re here, excellent!” Said Ozpin as he approached the couple who took a respectful step away from each other. “See, I wanted to formally invite you to our next upcoming ball.” He handed Ruby a sturdy envelope embossed with her name in silver print on the front.

“We’re having another ball?” Oscar asked.

“Yes, it’s been a few months since the last one so I thought it’s time for another celebration.” Didn’t I tell you?”

“It must have slipped your mind.” Oscar muttered, half sure that Ozpin came up with this on a whim just today.

“This one is by invitation only. Hence why I wanted to personally ensure that Miss Rose received hers.” Ozpin shot a meaningful look Oscar’s way as he said that before turning to direct his next statement to Ruby “Mm, anyways, don’t worry about attire, we can have you fitted for a dress, one properly suited for a night of dancing.”

He left no time for either of them to respond before heading off elsewhere. They both are left standing there, confused about what just happened.

“Hey Oscar?”

“Mhm?”

“So, I don’t actually know how to dance?” She was embarrassed to admit it, since it seemed like something everyone around knew how to do but her.

“Oh, well there’s some excellent tutors around here, you don’t have to worry about that!” Oscar reassured.

“Okay but what if I’m afraid of embarrassing myself in front of the tutors?”

“Are you afraid of embarrassing yourself in front of me?” He asked and she considered the question.

“Somehow a lot less afraid.” Ruby answered, there was a level of comfort she’d reached in being that vulnerable around him.

“Then how about I teach you?”

~~~

That started what would become the weeks of dance lessons leading up to this next ball.

“It’s easier than it looks. I was nervous the first time around too.” Oscar said, standing in the large empty ballroom with Ruby as he started the record player on some basic waltz music.

He demonstrated the base steps alone, explaining them as he went.

“Okay, want to give it a try?” He asked.

“I guess, sorry if I step on your toes.” Ruby was still pretty apprehensive even after watching him demonstrate.

Oscar chuckled, putting one hand on her waist. “I’ve seen you practicing sparring with the guards, you’re actually really graceful.”

“When I’m sparring I’m supposed to be aiming to hurt people, and here not so much.” She retorted.

That was only met with a fond kiss and Oscar’s other hand finding hers. “Come on, giving it a try?”

She began to follow his steps but it was clear how uneasy she felt no matter how long they tried it for.

“Here, let’s try something different. You lead.” Oscar offered.

“Won’t that make it worse?” Ruby thought that would just give her more opportunity to step on his feet.

“No, I think it’s pretty awkward to learn to do these all backwards, it’s easier to learn if you’re in the lead role.”

“Okay…” Ruby reversed their position, putting her hand on his waist to mirror the way he had been holding her before. They were nearly the same height so it worked perfectly in that sense.

It’s awkward at first still but Ruby was much less nervous, actually it was Oscar that was stumbling more now because he wasn’t used to this role.

By the time they had made their way around the room once, she was grinning.

When the music ended she hugged him.

“Thank you, that was way less awful than I was expecting.” She mumbled against his shoulder.

“Ha, glad it was better than awful?” His arms wrap around her in turn.

“But you aren’t done quite yet. That’s just the very basics, and you still need to practice this more too.”

Ruby feigned a pout with a grin hidden behind it. “What? There’s more?”

Until the day of the ball they continued to practice. Oscar had been made to take dance classes since he’d been adopted so he was more than happy to show off some of the more intricate steps and dances. Ruby’s personal favorite was dips mainly for that cute dazed expression Oscar got on his face when she could easily dip him and pull him back up for a kiss.

Rumor had it that the Prince will be engaged to miss Ruby Rose by the time this exclusive ball is over with.

This rumor may or may not have been started singlehandedly by one royal guard by the name of Nora Valkyrie. Regardless of how it started, word spread far and wide.

Word spread so far and wide in fact that it reached Salem. She was fuming, oh how could that wretched girl catch the prince’s attention so easily?

As much as she wanted to lock Ruby away and have done with her, Salem knew that if the prince truly cared for the girl then he might very well go looking for her. So she bided her time and came up with a plan, forging an invitation for Cinder to go to this new ball.

Ruby didn’t know any of this. Maybe Salem was a bit more cold and cruel than usual, but Ruby had already grown to expect the worst so she couldn’t even tell the difference.

~~~

The night of the ball arrived rapidly and Ruby had snuck out without finishing her impossibly long list of chores knowing full well she would pay for it tomorrow.

She wore a lovely floor length dress in a similar red color as her previous one, this time with her comfy boots underneath rather than those awful stilts.

Ruby was happy with how she looked, and so much more relaxed without the constant fear that her step mother or sisters would somehow ruin this for her.

Her confidence only grew when she met Oscar at the entrance and he offered her his arm. “You look beautiful.” He said, sounding so genuinely awestruck.

She really had to hold herself back from kissing him or even hugging him since there still was etiquette to follow for an event like this.

“Thank you, you don’t look bad yourself.” She replied as she took his arm.

Oscar didn’t leave her side all night. As he was Prince, they did have to make the rounds of talking with anyone particularly important but everyone was quite polite and seemingly excited to meet her too.

Once all the niceties were out of the way, they joined everyone else on the dance floor.

Ruby wasn’t nervous anymore, though she put her hand on Oscar’s waist to immediately take the leading role in this dance. Oscar just laughed and tried to stealthily kiss her on the cheek, an action many caught sight of regardless, because of course people were keeping their eyes on the prince and his girl.

For the whole night they only dance with each other which no one seemed to take issue with.

Well, no one took issue with until one particular unwelcome guest mader appearance. A song had just ended when Ruby felt a harsh tap on her shoulder, a fingernail basically gouging into her arm. When she looked up at who was trying to get her attention, she tensed, staring wide eyed. Cinder stood here, a fake overly polite smile plastered on her face as if she didn’t know exactly who Ruby was. “May I have this next dance with him?” She asked, putting Ruby in a position to look very rude and possessive if she were to say no.

Ruby couldn’t find her words at all, even if there was little Cinder could directly do to her here she still couldn’t help but be afraid.

Oscar picked up on something being wrong immediately, he’d never seen Ruby look so vacant and afraid, and this woman who had approached looked vaguely familiar. He frowned slightly before looking at the guest. “Would you excuse us for a moment?”

Cinder, seeing how this wasn’t going her way and so incredibly angry with Ruby getting her way, did not in fact excuse them for a minute. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think you heard me, I said may I have this dance?” Her grip on Ruby’s shoulder now bruising as she tried to rip her away from the Prince.

Oscar immediately got in between the two of them, and the guards were there almost immediately. Cinder did not go easily or quietly, in fact it made for a rather impressive wrestling match to watch in the middle of the dance floor before she was actually dragged off.

Everyone was quiet, shocked, and confused but slowly the party came back to life with people chancing quiet conversation and then returning to their dance.

“I’m sorry- about that.” Ruby mumbled, voice trembling slightly.

“That wasn’t your fault… at all. But, you seemed to know her?” Oscar spoke carefully, not wanting her to feel obligated to answer.

“She’s my stepsister.” She answered shortly

Suddenly something clicked for Oscar about the ‘family issues’ Ruby had alluded to before and it left a bitter feeling in his stomach. “Hey, you’re safe now.” He said, pulling her close.

“Yeah, for now.” Ruby sighed, she would still have to go home to.. To whatever was going to happen now.

“No, for always. You could stay here, stay with me.” Oscar blurted out, more than anything just wanting to make sure she was safe and happy. It took him longer than it should have to realize just how that sounded. “Okay, uh to be clear that was not a proposal. I promise that will be much better thought out and not asked when you’re dealing with a lot of stress-” His explanation was interrupted with a kiss.

“You do realize you just implied you’re going to propose, right?” Ruby asked once she pulled away.

Oscar laughed, giving her one more peck on the lips. “I thought that was obvious.”

#rosegarden #rosepine #ruby rose #Oscar Pine #secret santa #my fic #rwby

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