#but now it’s subsided & i’m no longer panicking that i might have to take myself to A&E & endure the most humiliating day of my life
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I Hate to Interrupt This Alternate Universe I've Wandered Into
c!Technoblade x gn!reader
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Chapter 2 of my series Glimmer in the Eye of the Curious
PAIRING; c!Technoblade x gn!reader
SUMMARY; You and Technoblade have a bit of an...unwanted... reunion, but it's better than being dead
....well, is it?
WARNINGS/TAGS; nothing really - a bit of panic
A/N; so I realised I want this fic to feel like the song snowfall by Øneheart (you may know from tiktok) - sad, angsty undertones but still have happier, nostalgic vibes to it?? I don’t really know but I hope someone understands the vibe I’m tryna give
also - i have some questions;
- do you guys like this chapter length? would you rather longer/shorter?
- do we want this to be angsty? cause if you have read any of my other stuff you know i am a sucker for angst, but i want it to appeal to you guys!!
1.8k words
A tired yawn emitted quietly from your lips, your eyes struggling to open. The first thing you felt was a weary, refreshing euphoria – the type you would feel after waking up from a much-needed midday nap, or after sleeping for 13 straight hours. However short-lived the warmth is, you bask in the intoxication as it slips through your fingers and moulds into an aching agony.
You should be dead.
With an alarming amount of effort, you open your eyes, groaning quietly as your whole body floods with aches and pains. You notice distantly that you are still caked in blood and mud, and still slightly damp from the snow. It takes a second to soak in your surroundings, and the fact that you don’t recognise one thing nearby – coming rather quickly to the conclusion that this isn’t somewhere you had been before, and that needed to change.
Maybe it was all a horrible nightmare, and you were really dead, and this was your version of limbo. Honestly, a win for everyone.
A voice clears its throat from across the room.
So, not limbo – not just yet.
Ignoring the soreness of your neck and the protest of almost every limb in your body, you snap your head to see a fairly large man leaning casually against his sink, sipping something out of a mug as if this was just a normal Monday – or whatever day it was now – for him.
And knowing Technoblade, this very well might be.
“How ya feelin’?” he asks, not moving from his place. “You weren’t out very long – woke up much earlier than I expected, actually.”
You hesitate, expression falling. No. No, no no no no no. Not here. Not now.
As subtly as you can manage you look for an escape route, a way you can get out fast and avoid trouble.
“There’s no point. I’m not gonna hurt ya.”
You weren’t stupid. With the condition you were in, there simply wasn’t a way of leaving without injuring yourself even further.
You go to reply to his first remark, but all the rasps out from your throat is a rough croak, sending a throb of pain through your head. Closing your eyes to help the hurt subside, you don’t even notice Techno sitting by your side, gently pulling your ankle onto his lap.
A cup of water was in your hand before you could fully register what was going on, but you had drank it all without so much as a second thought.
“Been better,” you finally manage, watching as he unravels a slightly blood-stained bandage from around your foot. “You’ve seen firsthand how bad of positions I can get myself in.”
“Your ankle is the worst you’ve done, everythin’ else will heal just fine,” Techno murmurs. You noted how calm and collected he was. Like how he always was.
You knew he knew how you got in situations you were unfamiliar with – you were skittish, panicked, like a deer in headlights. So he had to tread carefully, not wanting to scare you off (Gods knew he was good at that).
“Doesn’t feel like it,” you chuckle, trying to ignore the burning in your chest. “Thank you for helping me, even after… uh- everything.”
You don’t need to see him stiffen, you could literally sense how he unconsciously sits straighter, holding your ankle a little bit tighter than before. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t wanna.”
“I don’t – at least not now,” you whisper, swallowing the lump building in your throat.
“Alright,” he softly agrees, but is still tensed up as if you would attack at any moment – and you both know you have every right to.
But that wasn’t you – you weren’t a fighter like he was, and you both knew it.
Slowly, he unwraps the bandage on your ankle, letting you assess the damage for yourself. He seems almost zoned out as you look at the brilliant purples and greens that taint your skin, an ugly bruise dark and daunting.
“And my shoulder?”
“Just dislocated. Nothin’ a healin’ potion can’t fix.” The monotony in his voice is one you are all too familiar with.
You hum in agreeance, fingers on autopilot as they trace where a scar should be on your thigh from that skeleton’s arrow. There’s nothing there – no marks, no dents, no lumps – no trace of any injury in the first place apart from the bloodied tear in your pants.
“You always had the best stuff, didn’t you?” you snicker a little, letting yourself relax slightly.
If he wanted you dead, you would be by now – he wouldn’t have gone through all of this trouble to keep you alive if that was the opposite of what he wished. He wouldn’t have wasted so many precious resources to keep your heart beating if it wasn’t in his best interest.
Ignoring the dull ache moving caused, you ran your hands through your knotted and muddy hair, realising how dirty you must look.
The hybrid had to have read your mind, pointing lazily to a closed door. “Bathroom’s in there, use whatever you need. I’ll get you a change of clothes.”
Limping over, you barely make it to the door before collapsing onto the side of the bathtub, the overwhelming pain shooting up your calf making your head spin in many different directions. Black dots violently painted your sight, bile slowly creeping up your throat. You push it away, not wanting to cause a scene.
Technoblade walks in, holding a pair of clean pants and a shirt. “Will you be alright to do it by yourself?” he asks, clearly wary of your ankle.
You give a curt nod, taking a deep breath through your nose.
He huffs, “Yell if you need anythin’, yeah?”
Closing the door behind him, you are left to peel the bloodied and snow-soaked clothes off your sore body, ditching them to lie forgotten on the floor. Your whole body was littered with scars, marks and bruises – some new, red and healing, others older, faded but still visible.
You couldn’t help but stare as you always did prompted with a mirror at the scar running from between your shoulder blades all the way down to the small of your back. It was a scar that never fully healed, physically and emotionally. The memory of how you got it made you want to vomit, especially since you were in his presence again.
The tub filled quicker than you had anticipated, and you wasted no time dipping into the warmth the water in the bath provided.
Almost instantly the water became a murky, rusty colour, yet it felt amazing as you scrubbed off the built-up grime off your arms and legs. You could feel the soreness in your muscles soften as it melted away with the heat. After a while of gently running your fingers through your hair, the tangles and dirt clumps are out, and the water ran cold.
Reluctantly stepping out, you dried yourself off with the first towel you could grab, shivering at the new lack of warmth. You weren’t overly excited at the prompt of wearing his clothes, but as of right now you didn’t have much of a choice.
Because of his sheer size, Technoblade’s clothes were way oversized on you, but you compromised with what you had. The pants barely stayed on your hips and were too long at the foot so you had to roll them up. The shirt came down past your thighs, sleeves much longer than your arms were.
Pure exhaustion clouded your vision, having to blink away the stars dancing across your eye line. Dizzy, you took multiple deep breaths to attempt to steady yourself, gripping the doorknob as if it was the source of all your problems.
You distracted yourself by thinking – thinking about leaving, going home, fixing yourself up there and never leaving again. Thinking about the closure you could finally get, the explanation you had dreamt of for many sleepless nights-
No.
You were going to go home, and never see this man again, just like you had planned in the first place.
Opening the bathroom door, you hardly manage to fight the wave of nausea that washes over you, and by some miracle, you had made it back to the couch you were on before.
Technoblade sat idly at his desk, trying his best to calm the voices – the same voices who screamed for blood, blood, blood at the slightest mention of your name. He made his hands work so he wouldn’t have to think, praying the tedium and repetition of it would quieten them down, at least for a moment so he could attempt to concentrate.
Your mask lay partially fixed between his fingers, the least he could do to try and rekindle what once was.
He sensed your presence immediately, turning to make sure you were okay. He watched your eyes flicker from his to your mask back to his, but ask no question.
Technoblade was the one to break the silence. “When was the last time you ate-?”
You immediately cut in, “I’m not staying.”
He ignores you. “Now would be a good time for food, and maybe another potion.”
You watch him stand and make his way to a cupboard, pull out a full glass bottle and make a piece of buttered toast.
He first hands you the brew of rich pinks and reds, waiting patiently as you waft the potion to ensure there is no foul play. It tastes of melons and light, yet recovery and safety. A soft sigh involuntarily escapes you as you relax into the warmth spreading through every part of you.
The toast finds its way into your hands and down your throat before you can really process anything, still too caught up in the soft exhilaration rush to think about things too hard.
“It’s late,” Techno finally murmurs, “and a snowstorm is on the way. Look, I’m not gonna make you stay, but I would strongly advise sleepin’ the night off and dealing with everythin’ when you wake up.”
There’s only one thing playing on repeat in your mind.
Two, if you count how pretty he looks in this lighting.
“Why’d you do it?” You whisper it with so much heartache, Technoblade can almost, almost feel it radiating off of you. “Why did you…why…”
“Go to sleep.” It’s quiet, barely there, but it does the job.
The piglin watches as you drift into a restless slumber, silently arguing with the voices about something he had no control over.
Sleep and you had a very delicate, fickle relationship – and yet tonight she decided to hold you dear and close, allowing you a long, overdue nights rest that was very much needed. If she was feeling up to it, she may even have given you a dream.
Or possibly show that dreaded nightmare you face every time you close your eyes.
Blood for the Blood God.
TAGLIST;
@raes-gay @howtobeamoth
#technoblade my beloved#reader insert#x reader#gender neutral reader#dsmp#technoblade x reader#dream smp#technoblade#angst#ameswrites#fanfiction#glimmer in the eye of the curious#chapter two
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Just One Night
Day 12, Story #1 is by @rafa-rafaelx / @whenihaveyouromione
Title: Just One Night
Author: rafa-rafaelx/whenihaveyouromione (or FireTheCanon on ao3)
Pairing: Ron&Ginny (sibling platonic) and background Romione
Prompt: "I'm learning to love myself, it's the hardest thing I've ever done." (I used this as a theme more than actual dialogue)
Summary: A moment between Ron and Ginny at Bill and Fleur's wedding.
…........
For the briefest of moments, as her lips grazed his cheek when the song ended, he considered kissing her.
But the moment passed just as quickly as the question had come. She stepped away with flushed cheeks, but smiling.
"That was fun," she said breathlessly. "But I don't think I can dance anymore. My feet… they're so sore. Thanks, Ron."
"No problem," Ron replied, feeling the rush of his emotions begin to subside now that she was no longer touching him. "I'm a bit tired myself… er… do you want me to get some Butterbeers? Go find Harry and I'll bring some over."
Hermione beamed and nodded. "That would be great."
Before anymore could be said, she disappeared into the crowd.
For a moment, Ron stood amongst the dancing crowd and closed his eyes, relishing in the time they'd just spent together. It had been thrilling, exciting, and he dared not think about what could have happened had they continued to dance.
He touched the place where her lips had touched his cheek. The spot tingled, and it was a good feeling. And they'd been so close… so…
I should have done something, he thought admonishingly to himself as he went to where the drinks were being kept. It had been the perfect opportunity. He'd had her in his arms, they'd been dancing, with their bodies so close… there'd been something there, he hadn't imagined it.
He shook his head.
It was too late now. The moment had gone, she was gone…
He grabbed three Butterbeer bottles and was on his way to find Hermione and Harry when something stopped him. In the briefest of moments, his already fragile heart had crumbled before him. It shouldn't have, because they weren't actually doing anything, but…
Krum. She was talking to Krum and she was smiling. She looked so happy.
She smiled with you, too, he reminded himself, though it wasn't much comfort. Ron might have been able to make her smile, but he didn't have the fame or the money or the popularity to go along with it. Making her smile was the only thing he had.
The familiar pang of jealousy hit him — swirling around him, engulfing him. He had no right to feel as he did, for she was free to choose who she wanted. But he wanted it to be him — he wanted it so much that the reality of the situation was near unbearable.
He loved her. He'd known for a while, working through the confusing, yet exhilarating, feelings it brought him.
He loved her...
"I have no idea why he got invited."
Ron startled, surprised to see Ginny standing beside him. Her eyes were also on Hermione and Krum.
Ron didn't say anything. He looked at the three bottles in his hand. "Yeah, well… I've got to go and give these to…"
He made to leave, but Ginny said, "You're better, you know?"
Ron paused, turning back to face her. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Ginny nodded towards Krum. "You're better than him. For her, I mean."
Ron felt his face flush, but he refused to look back over at Hermione and Krum. He watched his sister for a moment, trying to figure out if she was being serious or not. The look on her face told him that she was.
For the first time ever, he decided to be honest with her. "In what way?" he asked quietly.
Ginny shook her head. "I don't know… I'm just repeating what she told me. He's just a friend — she said she's not the slightest bit interested in him in that way. Her words, not mine."
Ron swallowed. When had the room gotten so warm? "She said that?"
Ginny nodded. "She picks you. She won't tell you, because of everything that's going on — you know, all your secret plans and all — but… it's you, Ron."
Ron finally found the courage to look back over. Hermione wasn't anywhere in sight, but he spotted Krum skulking the edges of the tent, watching everyone with his usual deadpan expression. He released a breath he didn't even know he was holding.
"Why are you telling me this?" he asked after a moment. It wasn't like his sister to be this nice, but he couldn't sense any mockery in her voice.
Ginny smiled. "Because it's a wedding, a celebration of love, and the pair of you love each other, but you're too stupid to do anything about it. Besides, I couldn't bear the look of self-pity when you saw them talking just a moment ago."
"I wasn't —" He stopped. Who was he kidding? He had been self-pitying.
Ginny raised an eyebrow, though she was being overly nice to him tonight so it didn’t last long. “Listen, I just thought you should know that you don’t have anything to worry about… about Krum. He’s… he’s not in the way. Not for her.”
Ron cast his eyes around the tent again, and through a gap in the dancers, he saw Hermione at one of the tables with Harry. She was still flushed in the face, smiling widely, and just looking happy to be where she was. She had spent a lot of time crying over the past weeks — over her parents mostly — so to see her smile warmed him.
At the end of the school year, he’d thought that maybe something could happen. He’d been hopeful that it would, even taking the time to read the book Fred and George had gotten him. And the time together before Harry arrived, even the time after, tonight… it had filled him with a joy that he couldn’t quite grasp.
There had been something there tonight. It hadn’t just been two friends dancing. It had been… something more. Maybe, had they let things go longer, it might have ended with them sharing a kiss.
But all it had taken was seeing her with Krum — someone better at Quidditch than him, someone more famous than he’d ever be, and someone with more money than Ron could ever dream of — and all that hope had gone out in an instant.
Now, Ginny was telling him something completely different to what his mind had imagined —
“There's no better time to do it than at a wedding," Ginny said, almost reading his thoughts.
Ron nodded, though he didn't make to move anywhere. Despite it all — despite wanting to — in a few short days they would be leaving, going to who knew where, and he knew that until they found and destroyed all of the Horcruxes then there'd be no time for romance. So what was the point?
Just one night, he found himself thinking. Just tonight, it can be good.
Still clutching the Butterbeers, he moved forward, keeping his eyes on her, repeating in his head what he might say. Maybe he'd take her from the tent, have some privacy, at least see what she'd have to say.
But he was only halfway there when the Patronus arrived. Kingsley, telling them the Ministry had fallen.
Panicked ensued after that, and Ron was thrown to the side as people made desperate attempts to escape what they all now knew to be an attack.
He felt the Butterbeer bottles slip from his hands and spill over his shoes. He ignored it, pushing through the panic.
Hermione was his only thought. He'd lost sight of her and Harry in the mess, but somewhere, somehow, he thought he could hear her… calling his name.
He followed it, and a moment later he saw them. He saw the relief on both of his friends' faces, not just Hermione's.
And then Hermione Disapparated them, sucking them into a void away from the danger. After that, any hope of the night ending well — of just enjoying one night with her — was erased.
Now they had to find Horcruxes.
#chudleycanonficfest2021#hp fest#hp canon pairings#canon fest platonic#canon fest romantic#submission#ron & ginny friendship
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if all stars fell at once (3) | xiao
pairing | xiao/reader
word count | 3.8k
genre | fluff, light angst, developing relationship, overall domestic
warnings | eventual smut, nightmares
Dark and suffocating. Every corner had entities reaching to restrain you. You were panicked, running down unknown streets despite lead-heavy legs— despite not being able to scream. Like a thick syrup, the stress crept into your chest, filling your lungs as your eyes darted back and forth looking for an answer, a way out.
This warped reconstruction of memories and experiences with sinister manifestations was never ending. A second weighed on you like a century; trapped in the box of dreams conjured by your mind.
The Sea of Clouds was nothing more than a desolate wasteland. Buildings you'd known for years looked unsettling with details that were a little off— stairs that led to nowhere, the shadowy forms that lurked in the deepest corners of your peripheral vision… This was the inescapable circumstance of the environment your mind constructed. Like a labyrinth of the mind that left a sense of impending peril. Though there wasn’t a soul that could be found in any of the deepest recesses of the harbor, there was an ever-present feeling of being followed— watched.
Something was after you. Down deserted streets and abandoned alleyways the ambiguous figures followed you. By the ominous presence of a colorless sky above the harbor, you knew anything encountered here would not seek to be well-intentioned. And still knowing this was nothing but a nightmare, there was always something that filled you with paralyzing trepidation at finding out what fate awaited you if the evil entities consumed you.
Fear of the unknown.
It was always like this. Yet you could never stop the suffocating dread that enveloped your form and drove you forward as adrenaline fueled your heavy limbs.
With legs fighting to continue forward, you take a sharp turn to increase the distance between yourself and the malevolent figures inching closer.
‘I’m scared.’ But your thoughts echoed helplessly around you.
The entities dripped with malice, pouring out of cracks in the buildings and trudging through the stone paths. No longer holding a cohesive form, they began to merge and fight to walk over each other to reach the nightmare’s victim.
You tightly squeezed your eyes shut, body seized with recoiling anxiety. But nothing came. Instead, there was a gentle hand that placed itself on your shoulder.
‘I’m here,’ Xiao’s voice reassured. He pulled you towards him, delicately holding you in a protective embrace. There was an immediate shift in the air around you. ‘I won’t allow them to hurt you anymore.’
Behind him, you could begin to see the harbor chip away into ashen particles that glowed wispily. The dark entities seemed to melt away, seeping into the cracks and grooves of the cobblestone like a murky syrup.
Your body became light and airy in his hold, and you wanted nothing more than to stay in his safety for all eternity. Now more at ease, you slowly raised your clouded gaze to meet his golden irises, firm and reassuring.
‘May this nightmare release you from its hold.’
Tenderly, Xiao pressed his lips to your forehead and the crumbling mind-space around you was forgotten. It was as if the nightmare was unraveled and recondensed within the palm of his hand, and left you feeling like a wave of drowsiness settled in to fill it’s absence. Everything went blank, feeling like you succumbed to another slumber within your slumber.
Euphoric and warm. Finally, peace found you for a restful sleep.
—
Distant hums of mourning doves and the tranquil drips of raindrops playing melodies on puddle surfaces greeted Qingce Village as morning settled in. The sky was grey yet maintained bright as the sun still managed to break through much of the condensed clouds. The sluggish morning greeted you with a breath of ease.
With a stretch and a yawn, you peered one eye open. Across the room, you spotted Xiao seated against the wall, arms crossed over his chest as his head slowly nodded off to the side. He was dozing off, if not already asleep. Had he stayed the whole night? You clutched the warm blankets a little tighter around your cozied-up form, eyes fluttering shut to try and recall your dream.
...Nothing.
No matter how much you tried to recall anything, even the vague feeling of the dream, ultimately you were left empty-handed. Though it wouldn’t be the first time that you woke up being unable to recall a dream, this time felt deliberate. There was a distinct feeling lingering in the back of your mind you couldn’t quite describe. You could only imagine that it meant the nightmare was eaten as Xiao mentioned.
You glanced back over at the dozed off yaksha, his face peaceful and loose stands endearingly strewn about his face. When he had first mentioned dream eating a few nights ago, you got the feeling he was a little reluctant to do so. Despite his usual calm, aloof demeanor, there was some body language you learned to pick up on. Xiao is never one to lie to you, as he is curt and blunt in his own polite way, so you could only hope he wasn’t putting himself in danger with this.
You force the spiral of thoughts away before it festers any longer. No use getting in your head about it. It would only worry you sick if you kept deliberating. And much like Xiao is straightforward, perhaps you, too, should just ask him about it. You’d think about it.
With quiet movements so as to not disturb the sleeping adeptus, you waddled over draped in warm covers to put around him.
‘He looks really tuckered out,’ you noted, brows furrowing ever so slightly with momentary worry.
The moment you crouched down to brush a strand of hair out of his face, his hand quickly shot out to grab your wrist. His golden eyes opened frantically, narrowing momentarily at the sudden disturbance only to be met with your startled whimper and remorseful expression.
“I–I’m sorry to scare you awake!” you apologized hurriedly. Upon seeing it was only you and not an enemy, his expression returned to a more neutral state as he released his deafening grip on your wrist. “I thought you might be cold sitting on the floor so… I…”
Xiao wordlessly eyed the large blanket that practically swallowed your entire form and trailed behind you. It made you look so tiny in comparison.
He eyed the way your fingers absentmindedly massaged where he gripped with a little too much force. Concern settled in, and his gloved fingers gently reached out to check the tender flesh.
“Your wrist— did I injure you?” His eyes searched your face intently for any hint of pain or discomfort.
It only tingled, the prior pressure lingering and slowly subsiding. You shook your head, gingerly draping half of the blanket over him and huddling up next to him. He didn’t protest the gesture, the gentleness of your actions becoming something Xiao’s grown fond of.
You offered him a reassuring smile. “No, I’m okay. I startled you pretty badly… Were you having a bad dream?”
He hummed, pensive as he leaned his head back to thump softly against the wall. “Adepti don’t dream. When a mortal dream is consumed, it lingers in fragments that soon disappear not long after. I can only briefly be part of that dream as a means to get rid of it, so it’s as close to dreaming as I can experience.”
Perhaps dreams were akin to adeptal realms, and he left such inferences at that. His only goal was to rid you of the nightmares that resurfaced as of late.
“I see...” You contemplated, both perplexed and enthralled by this ability Xiao had proven to possess. And though you didn’t actually witness it, the inability to remember last night’s dream was proof enough that it worked. “So, does that mean you got rid of one of my nightmares?”
“Yes. It’s fragments are mostly gone.”
With a looming sense of guilt, you asked, “Are they scary? The nightmares, I mean.”
“No,” he responded without second thought. Considering his past— the likes of which you were still vastly unfamiliar with— any nightmares he had consumed were few and far in between. “Nightmares are conjured by the mortal mind as visual human fears. Often adepti will not be able to experience this except for myself through dreams I consume, but I’m not afraid of what I encounter. No matter what I see, I know it’s only an illusion. The feeling of the dream only lingers similar to the taste of food.”
You felt like a curious child; asking too many questions about something that piqued your interest. Still, Xiao entertained you all the same, answering your questions about dream eating with all the patience in the world. It made for a nice morning chat on such a drowsy day made to be spent huddled under warm covers.
The sparkling glint your eyes held as you hung on every word, or the way your soft, pink lips parted slightly with a silent gasp as he elaborated— it never tired him. It made his chest ache sweetly with that recurring feeling. Perhaps if his range of emotions were similar to yours, he would be smiling like he biggest love-struck fool right now.
“So, think about it, okay?” You finished with a beaming grin.
Oh. You had been talking. How long had he been distracted? He can’t even remember the last thing you said, too busy sorting out his mind. The adeptus could only blink confusedly at you as you stood up, hands on your hips lacking admonishment with the amused smile that quirked the edges of your lips up.
Rare was the moment you would catch the highly-attentive Conqueror of Demons off guard. Though his face remained neutral, you didn’t miss the momentary bewilderment in his eyes when he wasn’t sure how to respond. You took that as cue that his mind had momentarily drifted elsewhere.
“I said I wanted to repay you for helping me with the nightmare issue, but you seemed distracted. Did you fall asleep with your eyes open?” you jokingly teased as you waved your hand in front of his face.
Xiao averted his gaze, lightly scoffing, “Don’t be absurd. Adepti have no need for sleep. And payment isn’t necessary— I did this because I wanted to.”
There are many things you know about Xiao, and perhaps twice as many more things you had yet to learn about him. Your knowledge was already far surpassing what most mortals knew of him, but your advantage lay within the boundaries of a more personal relationship with an adeptus— a true rarity indeed. However, the subtle shade of scarlet twinging his ears as he hid his composed facade behind dark teal hair… there was no doubting it, much to his unvoiced chagrin.
Ah, you noted, so he’s embarrassed.
A relationship, unclearly defined by little gestures and subtlety in words that were mere whispers of deeper pining. There were complex feelings at hand, but the universe would show kindness and move for you both at the pace needed to meet each other halfway. Not rushed, but never stagnant. It was achingly slow and sweet to share moments of vulnerability among each other, here within walls that weren’t privy to prying eyes. And it was moments like this that fell into a rhythm— a wavelength— that seemed to pull an invisible string connecting you both together.
You didn’t tease him for the embarrassed pinks on his cheek, and for that he was grateful.
“Still, I want to do something for you.” You stopped him before he could protest, turning at the door frame of your washroom. “I’m doing this because I want to. It can be anything you want, as long as it makes you happy.”
With that, the door clicked shut and he was left with his lips parted in quiet bewilderment. Distant sounds of running water filled the deafening silence as he sat back with a deep sigh. Adepti are the ones relied on for favors and wishes. How strange— to have a mortal so readily offer to fulfil an adeptus’s curiosities with your limited capabilities. To bring him happiness… Something he didn’t see any benefit in, nor did he think he was capable of feeling happiness.
Xiao thought deeper into it, analyzing what exactly it was that filled him with a strange unease. Something that made him happy…
Happiness. He scoffed at himself at the mere thought. He was made to kill, to defend the land by any means necessary. His happiness… It was never a factor in his contract. It played no greater role in how swiftly he cut down blighted monsters. Happiness was not the weapon he relied on in the face of evil he vanquished. So, why was he giving himself a headache trying to figure out what made him feel happiness? An emotion he wasn’t very familiar with to begin with.
Here you were, showing— what? Mortal arrogance? No. His perceptiveness as an adepti was far too knowing, and perhaps the truth was what puzzled him more. What you showed him was genuine kindness, and perhaps a shred of naivete you clung onto.
He found himself warm with amusement when he thought about it— about how you treated him like you would any human. Where most would tremble at the sight of him or treat him with the reverent idolization that mortals do, you were instead treating him like one would a close friend. And maybe, if it were anyone else, he would see it as blatant disrespect. But if it’s you— since it’s you, he oddly sees no reason to raise a fuss about it despite himself.
It was a nice change of pace to feel at ease around you. A lighthearted reverie of mundane human life, and a moment of freedom from the heartache that burdened him as an adeptus.
Languidly, he scanned the room with unfocused amber eyes, your distant hums echoing in a muffled melody from beyond the other room. The glaze lilies from the other night had been moved to the desk by a window, the closed buds subtly glowing as they picked up on muffled hums of wordless songs and opened up shyly to your song.
Much like it’s difficult to find the right harmony favored by the delicate flower, Xiao wondered what made you bloom… and decided he would find happiness in figuring out your melody.
——
You blinked, mouth wordlessly opening and closing just the same. The words even made you fumble with your needle as you were stitching some intricate embroidery.
Finally gaining some composure, you cleared your throat but still ended up stuttering out, “W–Wait, I– Um– Could you…run that by me again?”
He had returned later that same day, when the moon was high in the sky and fireflies illuminated the still fields of Qingce with their soft glow. Seated patiently across from you, Xiao held your gaze firmly with arms folded across his chest.
“I’d like for you to enlighten me more about mortal emotions. If I want to get to know you better, I can’t avoid being a bit more knowledgeable about them.”
The way he held your gaze firmly and with undeniable resolve meant he truly deliberated this for a while, though you hadn’t expected him to actually come forward so quickly. Truth be told, you expected him to take on an adeptus stance and simply pay you no mind.
With a softer voice, he added, “Consider it the one thing you can do for me. I want to… understand you. Fully.”
“A–Ah, I see. Okay, so I did hear you right the first time.” You were already starting to put away your materials. Better to avoid any mistakes while your mind was taking a second to refocus. “Well, it’s… it’s a bit of a broad topic, and I’m no Sumeru professor. But, I’ll still give it my best.”
Dealing with a battle-hardened warrior in an area they were unsure of was a little intimidating. But, you’ve seen moments where Xiao has shown you a gentler side, one more tender and soft. It gave you hope that things would come naturally to him over time. More than anything, your heart was taking the heat of the nerves. There was just… so much and yet so little to emotions— taken for granted when they were embedded into you without much second thought. It was a little dizzying to figure out how to best help him comprehend things he hasn’t experienced much.
You shook your spiraling thoughts away before they over-complicated themselves and made you short-circuit. “So, uhm, are there any specific emotions you don’t fully comprehend?”
Xiao hummed, eyes closed and brows slightly scrunched as he racked his brain. In the end he came up empty. “I’m not sure. I’ll leave it up to you.”
With a slow nod, you pieced together possible ways to go about this. For the span of time you knew him, Xiao always expressed his puzzlement with how humans worked— not out of disdain, but rather voicing his disconnect with them. To hear him want to finally break the surface rather than choose his usual path of avoidance, was surprising to you in every way.
Still, humans are social creatures by nature and such interactions are what sparks the reactive emotions as a result. You were positive his curiosity didn’t warrant the desire to be put head first in a sea of emotional enigmas. He wasn’t a ‘people person’— something you knew all too well. This desire to learn was something Xiao allowed himself to entrust you with. You and you only.
“I have no desire to figure out how every mortal works,” he explained, hoping it would help narrow down your jumbled thoughts. His voice lowered just a fraction— volume just above a whisper meant for you alone to hear. “Understanding you alone is enough for me to work with. Don’t overthink it.”
There was an undeniable heat that twinged your cheeks. Xiao was looking to unravel your feelings for him without even knowing it. But there was a slight excitement you felt at the idea of the dense yaksha in front of you figuring out what the ties that wound you both together meant. There was plenty to explore.
“Alright, well,” you started, “What I think you need is just… experience. On a human level. Maybe then some things will click easier.”
He felt the warmth of your hand as you sidled over next to him, hand reassuringly placed over his gloved one. Xiao nodded slowly, a little apprehensive at the prospect of needing to adjust his perspective.
You cleared your throat, anxious to be prying more into his personal being. “So, what makes you happy, Xiao?”
There was a brief pause, the gears visibly turning in his head as his brows knit together. He was left staring blankly at you. “Could you… explain?”
“Oh, right… Sorry,” you apologized. “It’s whatever makes you feel… uhm, pleasant. Like a warm, sunny feeling in your entire being. Sometimes it makes you smile or laugh, but in the end always leaves you feeling satisfied for a fleeting moment and then everything doesn’t seem so bad— no matter how much you’ve endured. It makes things worth the effort.”
“I see,” he nodded slowly. “What makes you happy?”
Avoiding the question— though it’s not like you expected him to answer easily. Some examples would probably help him understand best and you reasoned this would be a very hands-on learning experience for him in the end, anyway.
“Me? Hm…” You pondered it a moment, absentmindedly fiddling with the adepti amulet he gifted you. “Sitting under the stars. It’s one of my favorite moments of peace under the calm of the dark sky… The world around us shifts every moment that passes, but it’s a comfort that the stars remain a constant when I look up for hope to get me through another day.”
There was a distant look in your eyes that didn’t go unnoticed by Xiao. However, something about the delicacy of the moment told him now wasn’t the moment to prod into the heaviness that weighed on your heart. There was a reason you were still here, much like him— your will to go on became your greatest strength. You visibly snapped out of your musings, a rosy hue high on your cheekbones.
“Sorry for… that— Where was I? Oh, right. It’s not too hard to find something that makes you happy if it’s something you like doing. Reading books, the people I love and care about, the colors of the sky as the sun sets— all of these make me happy, too.”
The subtle embarrassment that tensed your shoulders at first was subsiding, settling into comfortable conversation. Maybe it’s the attentive way Xiao sat with his face propped on his fist, expression relaxed as he took in every little detail you gave— it was hard to feel flustered for long.
He leaned back against the wall, his arms folding over his chest as he exhaled from the effort it took to think long and hard about what sparked some form of happiness in him.
“And if I were to say that what brings me happiness is you,” Xiao starts, his amber eyes glowing subtly as they focused on you, “what would be your response?”
There would be many ways you could respond, but the instant the words registered in your head you were suddenly at a loss for words.
“T–That would depend… on what you consider me,” you stuttered out, voice slowly growing meeker under his burning gaze. The moment of silence as he hummed in thought felt like it lasted an eternity, your heart pounding loudly in your ears.
“I consider you my person.”
Your plush lips were left parted in quiet awe, eyes glittering like the sky you so dearly loved as they visibly widened. Any words you were going to stumble over were cut off when soft lips pressed at your cheek. The tender revelation didn’t need words, as Xiao was a man of communicating best through actions. Both mortal and immortal sat in the stillness of the room with matching rosy cheeks adorning their features.
“You…” The heat in your face seemed to match the intensity of the ache in your chest. “Kissing me so freely… You want my heart to stop, don’t you.” But you were smiling as you buried your face into his shoulder to hide the increasing redness on your cheeks.
Xiao shrugged, “You do it all the time.”
...Screw it.
Any other lighthearted remark he was about to say was cut off by your lips silencing him in a rushed kiss. It was hasty and sweet, your eyes tightly shut as you chose to respond in actions like he did. Golden irises widened briefly before fluttering shut, letting the feeling lead.
It was warm— the feeling in his chest, the shy innocence reddening his face, the gloved hand that settled on top of yours as it tenderly cupped one of his cheeks. Here before him you bloomed so beautifully that it made his heart ache and his mind go blank momentarily. Yes, he was positively sure of it now.
You made him happy.
#adeptus xiao#Xiao#genshin impact xiao#genshin fanfic#mii writes#genshin#genshin xiao#xiao fluff#fluff#eventual smut#pwp#developing relationship#xiao x reader#xiao/reader#dream eater#fic: iasfao
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Over the Heart
Request: omg that jinsoul one was so cute! can you do one for olivia hye with some angst? thank you!
A/N I’m glad you liked it! I hope this one is to your liking as well.
Pairing: Olivia Hye x Fem Reader
How did things get so screwed up? Just 24 hours ago Hyejoo thought she’d be in your arms right now, not watching you walk away from her in disappointment. In fact, she’s disappointed in herself too. It all started last night when Yeojin went to Sooyoung for advice. A classmate of hers that knew you mentioned that they had seen you on a date to Yeojin since they knew you were friends. Obviously, the maknae is aware that you’re in a relationship with Hyejoo, so she sought Sooyoung’s advice before going straight to Hyejoo. Sooyoung ended up telling her on Yeojin’s behalf.
At first, it didn’t bother her. She told them to mind their business if they didn’t see anything themselves. I mean, why would she listen to something Yeojin’s classmate thought they saw. So She brushed it off and never even brought it up to you. Then, one afternoon Sooyoung came to her again and said that this time she saw you herself and presented Hyejoo with a picture. It was you and a foreign-looking blonde girl laughing together at the cafe that you usually frequent with Hyejoo.
Obviously, now that there was clear evidence the raven-haired girl couldn't help the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. How could you do this and still come smile in her face like that? It didn't go as planned though. She wanted to confront you about your alleged affair but she didn't know how to. She thought about how she could approach you but she actually let it fester for almost a week before making any move.
Then came today, only minutes before this exact moment had she looked at you and put forth the accusations. Except now she was the one left crying as you revealed the truth.
"Hyejoo, she's a foreign exchange student at my school. We were language exchanging. She's been teaching me Russian every other day so I can learn it and teach you too and I've been helping her improve her English. I was trying to create another excuse for us to spend time together that BBC wouldn't mind. Is this how little you think of your own girlfriend?"
The hurt in your eyes only moments ago left her dumbfounded. She hated how you looked at her right now. Your beautiful eyes brimming with yet unshed tears and the way you clenched the promise ring that you had put on a necklace and you never took off. But she could actually hear her own heart start cracking in half when you reach up to take it off.
"Wait! J-Jagi you can't be serious. It was a misunderstanding, what are you doing right now?"
Hyejoo could feel sweat beginning to form on her brow and her distress levels were through the roof. You never took your ring off. Never.
"Clearly you can't trust me Hyejoo, maybe we need some time apart. Let's just take a break." You finally unclasp the necklace and place it in the palm of Hyejoo's reluctant hand.
There it was 'Let's take a break.' She had heard from her older members that always meant that it was over without saying it's over. The deflated look on her face must have triggered your affections for her because you gave her one more hug before you turned around.
"It's just a break Hyejoo, not a breakup."
With that, you turned around and began walking away. Hyejoo didn't call out for you she just let the tears fall silently. What could she say? You needed space and she wanted to give you that. She clenches your ring in her hand as hot tears spill from her eyes, effectively blinding her from the sight of your back. The physical symbol of your love, no longer hovering over your heart, where it belongs, but burning itself into the palm of her hand.
When you're gone she returns to the dorms where all of her members are sitting in the living room watching TV. Gowon looks over at the sound of the door but frowns when she sees her friend with tears streaming down her face.
"Hyejoo?" All the members turn to her with worried looks and then a collective gasp is heard when she holds up your necklace for them to see.
"She thinks it's best we take a break." Hyejoo's voice comes out the smallest they've ever heard it. But the two people she didn't even want to look at right now were the first to speak up.
"She wanted a break? After cheating on you with that random girl?" Yeojin practically screamed.
"I oughtta go over there and teach her a lesson myself," Sooyoung grumbled.
"Shut up." She said it so quiet that they almost missed it.
Tensions multiply in the room as the other members spectate what's about to go down. On one hand, Yeojin reads the room and gets quiet immediately. On the other, Sooyoung looks prepared to do battle with the younger girl.
"Excuse me?" Her tone is meant to be intimidating, meant to shut down any further disrespect or argument. It may have worked if she wasn't trying it on Hyejoo of all people.
"I said shut up! Because of you and Yeojin, I may have just lost my girlfriend forever! She wasn't cheating on me, that girl is a foreign exchange student that's living with her family. Now she wants a break but she gave the ring back. Why can't she keep it if she's planning on coming back to me?" With each sentence, her shouting turned into a whimper.
Hyejoo didn't have the strength to walk off and cry in private, so she broke down right there in front of her members. The girls watched in panic and shock as Hyejoo let out a sob that racked her whole body, only pain in her body and mind. Jiwoo was the first to move, she cautiously approached the younger girl and pulled her into a hug. Hyejoo didn't protest. Instead, she clung to her like a lifeline. Heejin approached next to rub her back.
"What exactly did Y/N say? Did she say it's over?" Gowon asked her softly.
"She said it's just a break, not a breakup. But if that's true why give the ring back? And why does it hurt so much?" Her crying has slightly subsided but she makes no moves to pull away from HeeChuu. In fact, having her two affectionate members' warmth around her was kind of soothing. Meanwhile, Sooyoung and Yeojin kept their distance out of fear they might trigger her even more.
"See? Y/N wouldn't have said that if she didn't mean it Hye. Maybe she felt like keeping it on would make her change her mind. I'm sure she just needs to clear her head."
Haseul pats her on the back a few times but the truth is they are all kind of worried. The two of you have never had so much as a mild argument let alone something like this. When she brought you home to meet them for the first time they started joking that Hyejoo would be the first to marry in the group and it would definitely be to you.
"Give her the rest of today and then give her a call in the morning." Jinsoul pet Hyejoo on the head, much to the younger girl's annoyance.
"But she said-" Jinsoul cuts her off.
"I know what she said Joojoo. But it sounds to me like she wants to know you trust her and it couldn't hurt to show her you'll be waiting for her. You are gonna wait right?" Jinsoul's eyebrow quirks up as she asks the question.
"As long as it takes."
"Then show her you don't want to just let her go."
"In fact, if I were you I'd just ask to meet up later this week to talk it over and hopefully cut this break as short as possible." Hyunjin suddenly speaks up.
"That's not a bad idea Hyunjin! Why don't you call her tomorrow afternoon Hye?" Heejin suggests.
"Fine, I'll try it."
That night Hyejoo could hardly sleep. You were supposed to stay over tonight. Be in her arms right this moment spreading your warmth around her and reminding her just how lucky she was to be the one you chose. Though you would definitely say it's the other way around.
By the time morning rolled around Hyejoo had maybe slept an hour. Oddly enough, at least to the others in the living room, she shuffled through the dorm with her pillow until she reached Jiwoo and Heejin's room. She knocks three times before she walks in after hearing Jiwoo's groggy voice. When she enters she sees exactly what she expected. Jiwoo and Heejin cuddled up in Jiwoo's bottom bunk. She could ask for Heejin's empty top bunk but that's not what she wanted right now. As the two girls look up at her in sleepy confusion, they don't make her say it. Heejin stands up while rubbing her eyes and gestures towards Jiwoo's open arms. With very little hesitation she situates her pillow on the bed and climbs into the older girl's embrace before Heejin follows right behind and wraps her arms around Hyejoo too.
There's no denying that this is unusual for all three of them but no one says anything because at least she's finding comfort in not one but two of her members. There was just something so comforting and warm about being in the arms of the two best friends. For one, she knows they care for her, they always look after her even when she isn't in the mood. Maybe it's the emotion from yesterday or maybe she just needs them to know but it's quiet when she mumbles it out and makes the two older girls' hearts melt.
"I love you unnies. Thank you."
They look at each other over Hyejoo's head and smile.
"We love you too Joojoo."
-------------------------------
That afternoon, they sat with Hyejoo while she called you on the phone. As usual, when you weren't busy, you picked up her call on the second ring. It's silence on both ends of the line until she croaks out a vulnerable 'Hey' that you returned with the same energy. She's slightly comforted by Heejin's squeeze on her hand.
"So I know you said you wanted a break but will you meet up with me?" She hears you sigh and say her name but she interrupts with an almost panicked pleading in her voice.
"Y/n, please. I need to see you. I can't accept this break without talking through the problem first. I love you, let me fix it."
You couldn't see her but you could hear the shakiness in her voice. Though you've been together a while now, you don't think you've ever heard her this distraught. But you didn't even really have to think about it because the truth is, you want to see her too.
"Okay." It's practically a whisper but it's all she needs to squeeze Heejin back and perk up a bit, much to the older girl's delight.
"Meet me at our spot?" Her voice holds so much hope that you can't help giggling a little.
"Okay, Hyejoo I'll meet you there tomorrow morning."
"Y/n before you hang up...Can you say it back?" She sounds shy and if you could see how beet red she was from the looks on her member's faces you'd tease the heck out of her.
"I love you too Hyejoo."
With that you end the call, both of you excited to see the other. Vivi comes and pats her on the head with a warm sisterly smile before they are all talking about what she should wear for her meeting with you.
The next morning, she's there about a half-hour early, not wanting to be late and make you feel unimportant. When you arrive you look as beautiful as ever. It starts off awkward with the two of you just looking at each other. Then, you speak up.
"I uh I've missed you. Ya know, even though it's been 2 days." You chuckle, trying to keep it light.
"2 days too long. I missed you too." She deadpans. You're only caught off guard a little but recover quickly.
"I just worry that you don't trust me. You should know by now that I'd never even think about someone else like that."
"I do! It's just that some of the members saw you out with her a few times and it made me nervous. I thought she might be better than me and she is really pretty."
"Jagi I'm sorry but Galina could never. You're the only one and you always will be." You reach across the table and kiss her hand.
"Does this mean break over?" Hyejoo sniffles a little as she holds back tears.
"I don't know yet Hye. I'm still a little disappointed that you think so little of me." Hyejoo hangs her head so you can't see the tears threatening to fall.
"Don't be Y/N unnie!" Suddenly Yeojin is standing over the booth right behind you and you both hear Sooyoung grunt in frustration.
"We came to apologize. Yeojin heard some things and I saw you out. I should've just asked you about it one on one instead of going to Hyejoo. We're sorry Y/N." Sooyoung places a gentle hand on your shoulder and Yeojin nods.
"It was a misunderstanding, I didn't mean to cause problems for you and Hyejoo unnie. Please don't break up with her."
You're still a little shocked by their sudden appearance but you get it together and place your hand on Yeojin's head and give Sooyoung a warm smile.
"Don't apologize. I'm glad you both were looking out for her. That makes me incredibly happy. And I'm not breaking up with anyone. Everything is going to be okay."
Hyejoo looks up at you through her lashes.
"Really?" You almost coo at how adorable your girlfriend looks right now.
"Really." Seeing your smile again gives Hyejoo the warm and fuzzies.
"Then hurry up and put this back on before I get mad."
Before you can really react Hyejoo is clasping your promise ring back around your neck and watching it rest where it always should be. Right over your heart.
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The one with the marathon
Part 7 of The one where Bucky has a cute neigbour series!
Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader (f)
Summary | Reader and Bucky become friends after he saves her from a creep in their apartment building. Each chapter explores a different point in their friendship - very slow burn!
Warnings | 18+ only, Smut in later chapters (this is a slow burn), swearing, unprotected sex, oral sex, (later chapters)
Mentions of PMS in this chapter! I’ve also given Y/N a couple of interests to add a bit more to the story to help it progress
Will include elements of TFATWS in later chapters
Chapter 7 |Chapter 6 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 1 | Masterlist
You’d been doing your best to dodge Bucky as soon as you felt your body's usual symptoms start to develop. It started as it always did with feeling bloated before the short temperedness set in. Bucky was sweet and kind and he didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of your temper so you opted out of your usual Friday night pizza with him, giving the excuse of being called into work which he accepted with disappointment.
Saturday morning came and as usual, painkillers did nothing to soothe the ache in your lower gut. Traipsing into your kitchen, you filled the kettle up with water before putting it on the hob and started to root around for your hot water bottle whilst you waited for the water to boil.
A knock on your door interrupted your hunt and rather reluctantly, you made your way over to the door, unbothered by your sleepwear attire.
Swinging the door open, you instantly regretted not ignoring it.
“Hey doll”
It was upsetting seeing Bucky look so good on a morning when you felt so rotten. Even worse, you were fully aware of how you currently looked - unbrushed hair, no make up and Bucky’s t-shirt which only just covered the tops of your thighs. Self consciously, you eased the door closed a little bit and shielded your body from view.
“Hi Bucky, what’s up?” You asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.
“Can I come in?” He asked, tilting his head to the side as he tried to catch more of a glimpse of you.
“Now’s not a great time…” You grumbled, feeling guilty as you saw the smile drop from his face.
“Are you avoiding me?” The words rushed out of his mouth before he had time to stop them.
Taken aback by his forwardness, you paused for a moment, your jaw opening and closing as you didn’t quite know how to respond. “I’m sorry, you don’t owe me an explanation. It’s just I heard you in your apartment last night crying but you said you were at work and I was worried-”
He started to ramble as he panicked he’d overstepped the mark so you swiftly cut him off. “Don’t be, you’re right, I have been avoiding you.”
“....oh” Bucky's eyes shot down to the floor as he nodded his head. Your admission cut deep and every insecurity Bucky felt rushed to the surface as he processed your words. “I thought-” he started but not quite knowing how to finish his sentence.
You cursed your inability to think before speaking as you reached out towards him, no longer caring about your appearance as you took his metal hand in yours. “It’s nothing you did, I’m just not myself at the moment, I’m not exactly great to be around when it's my time” You emphasised the last bit, hoping he’d get the hint without having to spell it out.
You were wrong.
Bucky lifted his head and looked back at you, confusion etched across his handsome features. “You’ve lost me”
“Remember how you got that scar on the back of your head?”
“Yeah my sister threw a book at me”
“Uhuh, and do you remember why she did that?”
“I ate the biscuits she saved for when she- oh!” It suddenly hit Bucky as to what you’d been hinting at and suddenly he felt like the world’s biggest idiot.
“Safe to say me and your sister have the monthly mood swings in common” You joked, trying to lighten the mood.
“Well...um… if you need me, you know where I am”
“Thanks Buck” You smiled up at him and tried not to swoon on the spot as he leant towards you, his lips pressing against your forehead, gently kissing you as he cradled the back of your head with his hand.
His thumb stroked the back of your neck as his lips left your skin, sending shivers down your spine.
“I’m sorry for avoiding you, I thought I was saving you”
“Trust me, I’ve survived worse” He joked, tucking one of your many stray hairs behind your ear. It suddenly dawned on you what your current state of attire was and you hastily tried to flatten your hair and pull the t-shirt down to cover more of your bare legs.
Bucky tried his best to avert his eyes from your state of undress, not having taking note of how you donned his t-shirt beforehand, too focused on your wellbeing but he found himself failing miserably. You were too cute with your bed head hair sticking up in random places and slightly dark eyes where you’d not completely removed yesterday's mascara. And then there was his t-shirt. Fuck - he’d nearly lost it when you’d warn it the night you’d gotten locked out of your apartment but thankfully your legs were covered. But now? It was driving him mad seeing inch upon inch of bare skin, his t-shirt barely covering your underwear. He wanted nothing more than to shove you against the wall and run his hands over your impossibly soft skin.
The sound of your kettle boiling over snapped him out of it and he watched as you darted over to the kitchen, leaving him standing in the doorway, facing away from you as he was positive he’d be able to see your ass as you walked.
“I’ll come back doll”
Before you had a chance to respond, he’d already closed your door behind him.
Hastily, you made up your hot water bottle and quickly jumped into the shower, unsure as to when he would return.
Half an hour later, Bucky was back at your door, grocery bag in hand. “I’ve brought you a few things for... y’know.”
Opening your door wide for him, you chuckled at his awkwardness and gestured for him to come in. “You really didn’t need to-are those Peanut Buttercups?!” Rushing towards him you grabbed the bag out of his hands and began rummaging through his purchases.
Laughing at your response he left you to it as he hung up his jacket next to yours as he usually did and took up his spot on your couch.
“I remember what Rebecca was like and figured you might appreciate a bit of sugar.”
You could only moan in response as you devoured your chocolate treat. Grabbing your hot water bottle from the side table, you made your way over to the couch and sank into the seat next to Bucky, resting your head against his shoulder.
“Any plans for today?” You asked, holding up the last bite of your candy bar.
“Nope” Leaning forward, he took the chocolate from you using his teeth as he finished it off.
“Then you’re in for a treat” You sunk deeper into the sofa as he lifted his arm up, resting it along the top of the couch cushion, letting you lean further into him. Bucky also took the opportunity to pull the blanket from the couch down onto you, tucking you into his side.
To say Bucky was excited when you told him there were sequels to The Hobbit would be an understatement. For him to then find out they were turned into movies was almost too much.
He was in heaven. He was watching Middle Earth come to life, just how he imagined it would be whilst cuddled up against his favourite girl.
He wished it could be like this all the time, when he was with you the memories of who he was before subsided, along with all the guilt and shame. Even when he was in Wakanda, he hadn’t dared to dream of having any sort of normal life, he’d accepted it just wasn’t on the cards for him. That he’d always be alone.
When Steve left, that only solidified his belief that he was destined to be alone. Part of him was okay with that, this way he wouldn’t hurt anyone ever again. But the other part of him, the part that even Hydra couldn’t wipe out, longed for a companion, whether it be platonic or romantic.
Finding you was a miracle. You were so carefree, so honest, open and kind. You put up with his old fashioned ways, you didn’t make fun of his odd quirks or question why sometimes he needed to just be on his own. You both also had a lot in common, you both enjoyed modern technology and sciences and often found yourselves watching documentaries and educational pieces on TV together. Bucky was also delighted to learn you were obsessed with motorcycles and was planning a road trip for you both for when you next had some time off work - a surprise he was having a hard time hiding from you.
Half way through the first film he felt you nodding off, having come down from the sudden sugar intake. Pulling you tighter against him, he kissed your head and lowered the volume on the TV, not wanting to wake you.
As the second film started, you stirred awake, the cramps returning with a vengeance. As you opened your eyes you realised you’d snuggled into Bucky, nuzzling into his chest, leaving a small amount of drool on his black t-shirt. Jolting backwards, you hastily wiped your mouth and tore yourself from his arms in embarrassment.
Bucky’s eyes hadn’t strayed from the TV as he remained completely emerged in Middle Earth.
“Sorry I didn’t realise-”
He quickly shushed you as he continued watching the film. However he did miss your warmth and spread his arms wide, inviting you back into your previous position. “C’mere”
Trying not to read too much into it, you smiled and sank back into his arms, sighing as they wrapped around you, his right hand resting over your stomach, soothing your cramps.
It was well into the night when you finished your movie marathon, both of you enjoying every minute. You knew friends didn’t cuddle - not like this. They didn’t make your heart race like Bucky did. They didn’t make butterflies erupt in your stomach every time they so much as looked at you.
You were in trouble.
#bucky#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#romance#fluff#slow burn#bucky x female reader#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky x y/n#tfaws spoilers#tfawts#tfatws
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Arkham Files: Pied Piper
Hugo Strange: From the patient files of Dr. Hugo Strange, director of Arkham Asylum. Patient: Hartley Rathaway, alias Henry Darrow; also known as the Pied Piper. The patient shows signs of depression and general emotional distress, but I have not yet been able to give him a full psychiatric evaluation. Session One. So, young man, your name is Hartley Rathaway?
Pied Piper: Yes, sir.
Hugo Strange: Any connection to Osgood and Rachel Rathaway, the billionaire publishing magnates?
Pied Piper: They’re my parents, sir.
Hugo Strange: (Surprised) You mean to tell me that you’re that Hartley Rathaway? The boy who was set to inherit a fortune as large as the GDP of some small countries?
Pied Piper: I’m the only Hartley Rathaway! Ever! Nobody but my parents would stick a child with a name like that!
Hugo Strange: So if that is who you are, young man, why in the world would you have ever decided to put on a costume, call yourself the Pied Piper, and embark on a life of crime using weaponized musical instruments?
Pied Piper: Because someone had to even the score.
Hugo Strange: What do you mean, even the score? You had life handed to you on a silver platter. You grew up in a palatial mansion, with servants to tend to your every need. You had the best education money could buy, you traveled all around the world, and you were set to inherit one of the largest fortunes in the country. What injustice could a pampered prince like you possibly have faced?
Pied Piper: None, sir. I’m not evening the score for myself. I’m evening it for the poor, the downtrodden, the people who through no fault of their own are denied the opportunity to even know that they’ll have a roof over their heads and food in their stomachs. My parents and people like them live in scandalous luxury that they didn’t even earn, and they have the nerve to say that the poor are lazy and selfish! It’s unjust and unfair, and yet everyone turns a blind eye! I...I had to do something!
Hugo Strange: (A bit taken aback) I must admit, young man, I was not expecting to hear a manifesto from someone of your background. (Pause) I take it that you don’t simply steal for kicks in the way that your file seems to suggest?
Pied Piper: Not often. Usually, I take the money from people who won’t even notice it’s gone and give it to people who really need it.
Hugo Strange: So you think of yourself as some sort of Robin Hood, then? Stealing from the rich to give to the poor?
Pied Piper: I wouldn’t have thought to put in those specific terms, but...I suppose I do, yes.
Hugo Strange: Why not just give away your own money, Mr. Rathaway? Certainly you have access to more than enough of it.
Pied Piper: (Laughs quietly) I tried that once. When my parents found out, it became part of the argument that got me disowned, disinherited, and thrown off of their estate without a dollar to my name.
Hugo Strange: Your parents disowned you?
Pied Piper: Yes. They even paid the FBI to give me the identity of Henry Darrow just so I could never be traced back to them. If the Flash and that brilliant young reporter hadn’t stumbled onto the connection between me and my parents somehow, Hartley Rathaway probably would have been effectively erased from existence.
Hugo Strange: That does at least explain why your file gives you two entirely separate names and histories. I admit that that had been puzzling me, Mr. Rathaway.
Pied Piper: Well, now you know. (Pause) How did I end up in Arkham Asylum, Doctor? Even if someone had become convinced that I was mentally ill, Breedmore Psychiatric Hospital would seem to be much more conveniently located.
Hugo Strange: It would be. In fact, there are any number of prisons and psychiatric facilities that would be more conveniently located to the area of the Twin Cities than Arkham Asylum...but through a series of judicial and political decisions to which I was not privy, somehow all of you “Rogues” were placed under my watch. (Pause) So, Mr. Rathaway, you went from being one of the wealthiest and most privileged people in the country to being homeless and penniless. I imagine that that was not an easy transition for you.
Pied Piper: No, it wasn’t. Although the panic didn’t kick in right away. It wasn’t until I used my sonic technology to steal forty thousand dollars from my parents’ company, and then gave the money away to people in need, that my anger subsided and it really hit me that I was impoverished. All I had left was my hypnotic flute and the silly costume I had made out of my mother’s nice shower curtains in order to disguise myself while I was stealing money from her company, and I was panicking. Which in hindsight is probably why I made the stupid decision to hypnotize a group of random crooks into becoming a sort of gang, told them that my name was the Pied Piper, and tried to become their leader. One of them probably would have ended up shooting me within a couple of days, but because my sonic abilities were quite unusual, the Flash showed up to arrest us before I got myself killed. They went to prison, but for some reason that was never adequately explained, I was released from the police station without even being booked.
Hugo Strange: How could that have happened, Mr. Rathaway?
Pied Piper: My parents’ money, of course. They hadn’t had the time to create a false identity for me yet, so I suspect that they simply bribed the police station into letting me go so that no one would know that the former heir to the Rathaway empire was now a common crook.
Hugo Strange: And what happened after that?
Pied Piper: I almost starved to death.
Hugo Strange: And what saved you?
Pied Piper: Well, I had sat down on a park bench and was sort of waiting to die when I suddenly came face-to-face with a pair of blue pixie shoes that were floating four feet off the ground. The pixie shoes were attached to a blonde kid in a garish leotard. He asked me if I was the kid with the magic flute, and when I said yes, he told me that he was the Trickster and invited me to stay with him in his apartment for a couple days. I agreed when he told me that he also had food. During the month I stayed with him, he gave me a crash course on how to survive on the streets...although most of the other Rogues insist that I must not have learned very much from it.
Hugo Strange: Why is that, Mr. Rathaway?
Pied Piper: Because I still give away basically all the money that I steal. Most of it goes to the poor, and the rest of it goes to my parents, to pay them back for the money they spent on trying to mold me into someone I could never be. That way, they can stop complaining about all the money they wasted on me. (Pause) Captain Cold insists that if I had any sense, I would keep some of the money for myself, but why would I do that? I spent my early life in unimaginable luxury. It’s only fair that I go without to help the poor now.
Hugo Strange: So you’re martyring yourself for the sins of your parents?
Pied Piper: I’m not martyring myself. I’m just doing what needs to be done.
Hugo Strange: Sacrificing your own financial well-being for the sake of others is not healthy, Mr. Rathaway. With a philosophy like yours, I’m surprised that you’re even still alive. (Pause) Incidentally, how have you managed to survive multiple stints in prison? A skinny, sheltered ex-aristocrat like you would seem to be an obvious target.
Pied Piper: Which is why I don’t call attention to myself whilst incarcerated. You’d be surprised how effective keeping your head down and your mouth shut can be. (Pause) Well, that, and Captain Cold has made it pretty clear that if anyone messes with me, they’re also messing with him. And almost no one is willing to get on Captain Cold’s bad side.
Hugo Strange: So your status as one of the Rogues protects you?
Pied Piper: Yes, sir. (Pause) But if I really had to, I think I could survive without them. I may be a sheltered ex-aristocrat, but I’m also a master hypnotist. I didn’t take up the name Pied Piper for nothing, Dr. Strange.
Hugo Strange: Yes, your file does go into great detail about the effectiveness of your hypnotic instruments. When you first arrived on the scene, there were even some people who thought that you might be the Pied Piper of the folktales, due not only to your powers but also the fact you seemed to appear and disappear almost at will, without ever really getting caught (Pause) Of course, from what you’ve told me, I can guess that the explanation for your remarkably infrequent imprisonments was due to your parents’ wealth, rather than to any magical powers.
Pied Piper: Those rumors were actually quite helpful. When people thought I might be magical, they put considerably less effort into tracking me, and that gave me a lot more freedom to do things like volunteering at homeless shelters and food pantries.
Hugo Strange: But you are not magical, Mr. Rathaway. You are only a man.
Pied Piper: I know that, Dr. Strange. If I had magical powers, I’d be a lot farther along in my goal of helping uplift the downtrodden than I am.
Hugo Strange: Mr. Rathaway, that was not what I was trying to tell you. Wanting to help others is an admirable goal, but the methods which you are taking to pursue it are decidedly unhealthy. You are a human being with human needs, and you are discounting them all in your desperation to prove that you are worth loving. While I believe that you honestly want to help others, I also believe that there is a part of you that is still trying to earn the love which it sounds like you were denied as a child. You’re hoping that if you sacrifice enough, you will finally be accepted as worthy...but you are giving too much.
Pied Piper: Too much?
Hugo Strange: Yes, Mr. Rathaway. Too much. (Pause) Think of it this way. If you starve to death because you have no money to pay for food, you will no longer be around to feed anyone else...and by giving away all of the money you bring in, illicitly or otherwise, that is effectively what you are risking. And it’s certainly what you’re doing to yourself on an emotional level.
Pied Piper: (Quietly) It’s what I was taught to do, Dr. Strange. What I wanted wasn’t important. What I needed wasn’t even important. The only thing that was important was upholding the family name. My parents have always made it quite clear that their love for me was conditional on whether I would sacrifice what I was to be their idea of the perfect heir, and I tried. For eighteen years, I tried, but it was never enough. Not after I’d been born deaf.
Hugo Strange: Yes, your files mention that. Your files also mention that your deafness was cured thanks to a pair of highly advanced hearing aids, which were created by Dr. William Magnus. The operation cost millions of dollars, and it granted you far more than the normal range of hearing.
Pied Piper: 14 hertz to 55,000 hertz. I hear more sounds than a dog. (Pause) And all the nasty things that people whisper behind my back when they think I can’t hear.
Hugo Strange: Are you glad that you were given these hearing aids, Mr. Rathaway?
Pied Piper: Very much so. Without them, I’d never have known what music sounded like. (Pause) But to be honest? If I had to choose between being deaf and knowing that my parents loved me, and being able to hear and knowing that it was entirely because my parents didn’t want the social embarrassment of having a disabled son, I’d choose the world of silence. And I hate silence.
Hugo Strange: Mr. Rathaway, you have spent your entire life sacrificing your own needs, either for the needs of others or for your parent’s desire for a so-called ‘perfect’ heir. That is why the request I am going to make of you will be so difficult. (Pause) Between now and our next session, I want you to write down something that you really want to do. Not something you think you should want to do; something that you actually want to do.
Pied Piper: But-
Hugo Strange: Mr. Rathaway, you will never be able to achieve healing until you recognize that your wants and needs are just as valid as anyone else’s. You will not be able to care for others in a healthy way until you learn to care for yourself.
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destiny | 09;
⇢ summary: you’re just about ready to give up on life altogether; your love life is in ruins, you’ve lost your job, and your family couldn’t care less about you… and then you meet your blushing guardian angel, and maybe life isn’t so bad after all.
⇢ relationship: jeon jungkook/reader, min yoongi/reader.
⇢ genre: supernatural, angel!au, demon!au, romance, thriller.
⇢ words: 6.5k words.
⇢ warnings: mentions of depression, violence, vomiting. slightly nsfw toward the end.
previously | next
a/n: happy new year! I know it’s been quite a while (literally an entire year since I’ve updated) but I’ve had this chapter pretty much ready in my drafts and just hadn’t gotten around to finishing because. everything. regardless, I hope this sort of makes up for it. love you all! hope you’re doing well. also WOW I swear a lot in this one.
His hand on your neck is meant to silence any screams that might slip out. He applies the perfect pressure to avoid crushing anything vital (and just by the feel alone, you know he’s got quite an amount of strength to pull that off) while simultaneously stealing all your air and forcing you to cower in fear. You don’t have to be a rocket scientist to know this guy isn’t someone to be fucked with, and all you can think about is the fact that Jungkook is right outside and has no fucking clue what’s going on. The very thought fills you with dread.
“Then again, you’ve got someone helping you.” What once was just a particular, calculated press against your skin becomes a deliberate act of violence as he begins to choke you harshly. You know the pain of his grip might last for weeks, and that’s only if you don’t die in the next minute. “Just makes me wonder what’s so special about you.”
“Nothing!” You rasp out, clawing at his hand now in some weak attempt at breaking away. If you could make enough noise, enough commotion, surely someone-
-but the stranger has already stopped you quick. You aim to throw the door open or something but his free hand quickly apprehends you until you’re just a squirming mess on the verge of passing out. Even your legs are pressed firmly to the wall by his own body, holding you fast so that you can’t help letting a few tears fall. There was no doubt in your panicked mind that this was Seokjin, the angel who’d been trailing you from the shadows for what felt like centuries. His grand act of approaching you, something you’d dreamed up to be a major climactic brawl in a battlefield made for a spectacle, turns out to be so simple. Perhaps that’s what you got for thinking biblically. Why go through all the trouble when he could just squash the problem the minute a chance presented itself?
Now, all you can think is “I can’t die like this”. A sobering thought of pure contempt. Drowning in the river was preferable to this.
You muster what breath you can, eyes blazing, “How does it feel… being God’s lap dog?”
Seokjin is, funnily enough, stunned for a moment. All bravado slips through a teeny crack in his demeanor when you say that, and even though it’s a low blow, it’s also enough for you to thrust a semi-powerful kick to the dressing room door to make the entire thing shudder like an earthquake. That sound, coupled with your comment, makes Seokjin release you in a panic. You hear some gasps from outside, a few people inquiring if you’re alright. An employee sounds most worried amongst the voices. You’re just shy of swinging the door open and forcing Seokjin to be revealed or to disappear all at once, but then he’s grabbed the back of your collar as you scream in frustrated fury. Seconds later, you’re no longer in the dressing room anymore.
Instead, you fall flat on a rough, sandy surface. You’re overwhelmed with nausea, pain, and fear, so your whole body is struggling to pick up on the most important things outside of that, but you do realize quite fleetingly that it’s sweltering. It takes you a few seconds as you curl up on the ground to peek behind your hands that shield your face and discover that it’s blindingly bright where you are, almost like a…
For fuck’s sake. “Of all the places…” You whine with a sore throat, coughing right after from the strain.
Seokjin stands above you and uses his foot to kick you onto your back so that you’re staring up at him and the baby blue sky. His hair color plays against it in an unfittingly gentle contrast, “I thought we might need somewhere safer to discuss things. Oh, and speaking of discussion,” he waves a hand near you and you instinctively flinch back before you feel the pain in your throat subside. You wait a few seconds, but it seems whatever he’d just done had no effect on the rising bile in your throat, so you assume that’s something you’ll have to deal with on your own. What an ass. “Feel better?”
“Fuck you! Maybe if you hadn’t choked me out in the first place-”
“You’d have listened?”
“Maybe if you hadn’t hunted us down to kill us, we would have!”
Seokjin frowns, “I didn’t bring you here to talk about you and that boy, I brought you here to talk about you. I am only concerned with you.”
Whatever that entailed did not sound good in the slightest.
You scramble to your feet and immediately regret the movement as it makes you sick again. The more than 100 degree weather does nothing to fix that either, the sun beating down on you and bouncing off the dusty white sands directly into your eyes. You’re feeling something nasty rising up from your stomach, ready to projectile…
Just as the scene changes, you paint a Victorian rug with streaks of your vomit.
Seokjin immediately groans out loud, placing a rough hand at the back of your neck like one would grab the scruff of a kitten. You’re far too weak to protest, rubbing at your mouth with the back of your hand, so you let him toss you into a chair. The jerkiness of the action should have sent another eruption out of you, but you recognize the relief that has overwhelmed you from the touch of his hand. Had he fixed that too?
“Never the matter,” the angel growls, waving his hand and making the mess evaporate from the very fibers of the rug, “you’re all very fragile. I should have prepared you first.”
“How can you do all that…?” You couldn’t recall Jungkook or Jimin showing off any power like that, and whether it was because of Seokjin’s status or their modesty (and adherence to rules), you were unsure. Most likely both.
Instead of answering right away, Seokjin reaches forward a moving cart and you finally notice there’s a glass pitcher of water (hopefully) next to an array of empty glasses. You take the time he spends pouring some water for you to examine your surroundings.
It looks like a secret room in an old English manor house. The walls are painted a deep charcoal and with the absence of natural light, you could mistake it for the void. The only light that does exist is a strangely dim white light coming from the ceiling. What looks like a rather ornate shell of a skylight (sans the window to actually reveal, well, a sky), seems to hide said white light somewhere in it. It’s such a vague glow that you can’t pinpoint if it’s coming from a lightbulb or magic.
The rest of the room is just as ornate as the “skylight”, filled with deep oak bookshelves, golden artifacts, and shining decorations that already look like they cost more than your house. It doesn’t really matter the longer you think about it. All of it has to be an illusion… right?
A glass is placed into your hand and you break out of your thoughts to make eye contact with Seokjin. He hovers over you with narrowed eyes and when you look back at your surroundings again, you notice all the little decorations have disappeared. Why had he- “We can negotiate those bits of the deal later if you so wish.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” You ask, hesitant to drink the water despite how much the heat of the desert had made you crave it.
“Like I said before, I brought you here to discuss you. I’ve been watching you and lover boy for a while and it has become clear to me that you’ve been pulled along for quite the ride. I’m sure it’s all very daunting.”
“It wouldn’t have been so bad if you hadn’t shown up.”
“How much do you know about our Lord and Savior?”
It was tricky to say the least. You’d grown up on tales of him, an over-powered being of immense stature. No one could come close to him, not even the devil. However, you’d learned bits and pieces from Jungkook, Yoongi, and the others to the point where your ideas of the figure had become skewed. There was no linear understanding of him. You honestly had no idea, “Probably not enough.”
Seokjin huffs, taking a seat from across from you in a chair similar to yours. Crossing a leg over the other, the angel stares you down, “Do you know why I’m after you both?”
“You want to kill Jungkook. Because he committed your sin.”
“Jungkook is my main target, yes, but it wasn’t my sin. My sin was sullying myself with a demon. Jungkook’s sin was sullying you.”
You frown, “He did no such thing! You had a fucking child! Jungkook saved my life!”
“You mean to say he ruined it. You were supposed to be dead a long time ago.”
You’d known that much, Jungkook had told you already. Even if he hadn’t, that had always been the plan. “It was… it was my choice and I wanted it then, I admit it. But I was hurt. I was overwhelmed. I wanted it because I was scared there would be no reason to keep going.”
The angel angles a brow upwards, “And the fallen was that for you? A reason to keep going?”
“It was- it was a lot of things. I was reminded that I existed, and that there are people who can love me the right way,” frustrated at the situation, you glare at him, “what the fuck? Is this some fucking therapy session?”
He has the gall to smile, “God knows you need one. I’d like to be the one to get inside that mind of yours.”
Shit. What if you’d given him just the right information to use against you?
You snap your lips shut and sink back into your chair, bubbling with more dread. He notices your sudden resolve and appears to want to ease your worries, “I’m not doing this to break you. Unlike God, I find you, as a person, quite redeemable. A gentle, pained soul who fell victim to the perversion of her guardian angel. It’s all very sad.”
So God did think you were a lost cause. Jimin had been right after all. However, you don’t want to keep talking when you’re so close to getting the information you’ve been waiting for. It seems even Seokjin isn’t fazed by your silence, continuing on without missing a beat. “You see, usually these angel and human matters can be chalked up to the angel getting too big for their britches. They think they can change things like fate: God’s very flawless plan from the beginning. They are simply… glitches in the matrix, you could say? That’s where I come in. I make sure these issues are handled and that everything goes back to normal. You see, God loves his humans. Truly. He has a bit of a temper, but it’s justified, you know? He loves you all so very much that seeing you stray from a holy and righteous path is heartbreaking for him. He can only excuse so much.
“So he doesn’t. But… sometimes I help him. I change his mind. Even Jesus had to convince God not to blame his executioners. The big guy gets real impassioned about those he loves. It’s all part of the territory of being in heaven’s sovereignty,” at this, Seokjin shrugs, “you were an unfortunate casualty of it. However, I brought you here because I think that you could be saved. You’re simply confused. I’m sure I could convince God to rethink... his punishment for you.”
Your eyes widen, nearly dropping your glass, “He’d do that?”
The angel nods, pleased, “Of course! After all, he just wants you to repent. If you show that you will, well, I could put in a good word for you. He and I are very close.”
“But only for me.”
Seokjin’s smile dims some. He was so sure he’d had you on the hook just then, “Well… yes. There isn't much I can say about angels. Humans are born sinful, but angels are born knowing better. If they succumb to sin, I cannot do anything about that. But… if you feel that you’d be leaving Jungkook behind, and if that would cause you to feel guilty, I can assure you that that would be taken care of. Your memory of him would be wiped clean and you’d receive another guardian angel in an instant. You’d be granted everything you ever wanted. You’d be able to live out a new path of life contrary to the one your fallen so selfishly carved out for you.”
At this, you begin to frown deeper than you ever have. It’s not out of confusion but deep, deep understanding. Seokjin’s deal was asking you to sell Jungkook out and in return… he’d make you happy. You’d forget all about what had happened and carry on a new person, virtually safe. You could only assume that meant forgetting Yoongi too. Everything you’d accomplished so far would be rearranged until the you that you’d become would be so unfathomable you wouldn’t ever consider it.
What scares you the most is that you actually consider it.
This all could end right now and you’d get out alive, maybe all the ordinary people you knew would get out alive too. You’d be completely removed from the situation. You’d just have to forget Jungkook.
“You asked me how much I know about God,” you start, thumbs twiddling, and Seokjin perks up, “the stories humans told of him always kind of scared me. He’s so powerful… he knew everything before it was even created. Nothing can get past him. And yet, he let humans have free will and the right to choose what their path in life would be. That part always boggled my mind. God’s supposed to love us unconditionally, but if we don’t return the favor, we suffer eternally. It seemed like a pretty big plothole in the otherwise ‘flawless plan’ you claim he made.”
“Yes, well, it’s not God’s fault that Lucifer’s so conniving.”
“But it is. Isn’t it? God created him. Lucifer is the one who brought sin upon the world but God is the one that created him. If he knows everything, why make him in the first place? It’s a fallacy,” Seokjin’s eye twitches just a bit as you lean forward, “that God knows everything. Isn’t it? He wouldn’t be so stupid. He had no fucking clue what he’d made when he made Lucifer.”
“I’d watch your tone. God hears all.” The angel’s ominous reply is all that you need to hear. He doesn’t tell you that anything else you’ve said is false or not. Of course not. You know as well as he does that you’re spot on.
You’re so stunted by the arrogance of it all that you have to laugh, “Allegedly.”
In that same moment, the white light above begins to flicker. A distant rumbling sounds from somewhere and that fear you’d felt earlier comes back with a vengeance. Seokjin looks annoyed, if anything, “I only have so much time to sit here with you to chat.” He stands up and walks over to you, seizing you by the arm, “So I’m telling you now that you still have a chance. No one else has to die. Do me a solid and make that a reality.”
Did he really not want to kill you? He’d had so many chances to. Even now, he could just… what did you have that made him hesitate? “You think I believe that?”
The ground rumbles underneath you and then you fall through, Seokjin’s grip slipping off your arm… or maybe being pried off.
Where you land next isn’t as disorienting as the last few times, but it doesn’t feel any better to be ripped away again without so much as a warning. For a moment before you land, you halt, almost floating. Then your feet make contact with stone and then your knees follow under the sudden press of gravity. A quick look around tells you that Seokjin is nowhere to be seen… and that where you are looks vaguely familiar.
The stone continues up the walls to the ceiling, creating a naturally cold room that expands no more than the size of a restroom (no toilets in sight, however). The furthest edge of the room from you is completely dark, while the other is helped by a fire stretching from one long, narrow wall to the other. There is no wood crackling beneath it though, nor is there an actual controlled area for it to burn. Flames simply lick up the bottom of the wall as if commanded by magic. While the rest of your body feels chilly, the warmth of the fire keeps your head warm like a fever.
You lay crumpled up on your knees and hands, staring into the flames with the most bemused expression, wondering what to do now. You’re definitely not intent on travelling to the other side of the room in fear of being met with something sinister you can’t see, but the fire only illuminates so much of the place and there doesn’t seem to be a door in sight. If Seokjin wasn’t here, you doubted this was a place he wanted to be.
Maybe he was torturing you? Intending to keep you in a dark, scary room in order to break your resolve? You didn’t know the extent of power he was allowed to wield but this whole transportation thing was starting to get really annoying. You chance a meek, “Hello?”
Your voice doesn’t echo like you expect it to. It sounds like it’s right up against your face, like you’d spoken into a pillow, the sound eaten as soon as it came from your mouth. Where the hell were you?
“...not exact, okay?!”
You pick up on a voice to your right and turn over with such speed that you land on your ass. Some stones move on the narrow wall, and then the room is illuminated from an entirely different source of light. It takes you a few moments to gather your bearings as your eyes attempt to adjust. Voices are frantic and coming closer, you can hear that much. You pick up on one instantly, “Jungkook.”
Your voice is weak with relief just as he comes into view. He looks an absolute mess as he throws himself at your feet and wraps you up into a bone-crushing hug. The strength of his hug doesn’t even bother you as you cling back with just as much force, grateful tears beginning to gush out of your eyes. You didn’t realize until then just how terrified you’d been, really. It was always there underneath the surface, but something about Jungkook’s sudden presence makes the reality of it all hit much harder. He smells like your shampoo still.
After a couple of minutes in his embrace, you pull away to examine his face, “Are you okay?”
He laughs and the way his tears have clogged up his throat make it sound more like he’s choking, “Who cares about me? Are you?”
You smile, tucking some of his hair behind his ear, “Better. With you here. Where are we?”
“Limbo, hell’s limbo.”
You’re not sure what to say in response to that. After what you’d been through in the last… however long it’d been, that seems the most plausible to you. “Is that like purgatory?”
“No,” another voice speaks from above you and only then do you realize that Yoongi is here too. He looms over the both of you but his gaze is fixed heavy on your face, “purgatory is where the dead go on their way to heaven. This is where the living come on their way to hell. Was a hell of a ride trying to get your ass down here.”
“Yoongi…” You peel back from Jungkook and stand up, a little wobbly as you lean against the wall, “...thank you. How did you do it? The places Seokjin took me… I felt like we were in a dream.”
His upper lip ticks up in a snarl, “It was. The place where you were is a void, heaven’s version of limbo. It’s where angels bargain with humans on the edge of death to repent. It’s an open playing field for angels to present themselves to their humans without them having to be dead or breaking a rule… not like the latter really applies to Seokjin, though. It’s only as strong as your will to be there,” with that, Yoongi reaches toward you and brushes what feels like sand off your cheek, or perhaps he just meant to touch you to make sure you were really here with the way it lingered, “and that’s the only reason I could pull you out.”
It was a lot to digest. You still couldn’t totally understand how he’d pulled you from heaven’s limbo if he was a demon, but that was beside the point. Right now, you just wanted to get out of this creepy box of a room for good. And it seemed you would be getting your wish.
Another figure became clear to you through the doorway, though this figure looked much more intimidating than the two by your side. Dressed immaculately with a sly smile that felt strikingly familiar, a man makes his way into the room, pressing a hand to his chest and bowing his head to you, “He had my help too, of course. A pleasure to meet you (Name), I’ve heard very little about you.” The man holds out a hand to you and you can feel both Jungkook and Yoongi stiffen on either side of you, but neither makes a move to stop him. This had to be another demon, no doubt.
You take his hand and shake it firmly despite your nerves, “T-Thank you for your help as well. May I ask who you are?”
The man grins wider, “You can call me Lucifer. Are you hungry?”
An entire array of human food is set out before you but you don’t have much of a stomach to touch any of it, though Jungkook seems right at home as he fills up his own plate. You can only guess he’s enjoying the hell out of having so much food at his fingertips without having to pay for it.
You can hear his delighted sound effects from the left of you as you both sit on one side of a long table. Lucifer sits at the head of the table to the right of you, also refraining from really eating anything. Yoongi sits right across from you on the other side with an annoyed expression on his face, fingers tapping the heavy oak table top in a rhythm you can’t decipher. It couldn’t be any more awkward.
“No appetite?” Lucifer asks, pointing to the food. There’s meat and vegetables and cheeses that you know and don’t know but none of it seems particularly appetizing to you at the moment.
You shake your head, “No. Actually, I have a few questions I’d like to ask you.”
“Ah, bet you’re bursting.” He chuckles and takes a swig of something you think might be wine. “Go ahead. I’ll try to recap the last couple of days as well as I can.”
“Days?!” You don’t mean to yell, you really don’t (especially not at the king of hell, but-), “It’s been days?”
Jungkook stops chewing to give you a concerned look, “Of course… how long was it for you?”
“Barely… half an hour, maybe more? But not days.”
“Yes, well,” Lucifer sighs, tucking his hands together in front of himself, “time works much differently in heaven and hell than it does here. Especially for those who end up in heavenly limbo. It’s essentially cut off from the rest of the universe which makes it that much harder to track those who end up there. Seokjin was smart in bringing you there than somewhere else on earth.”
Your head is throbbing at this point. If days had gone by, you could only imagine how much had changed since you’d been gone… “So… what has happened since then?”
“Apparently quite a bit, seeing as I was a last resort.” Lucifer’s tone almost sounds irritated. Like a petulant child, he glares over at his son with an unspoken tension that you would like to delve into much, much later when the important things have been moved out of the way. “These boys have been pretty busy trying to get you back. But we are all eager to know what happened while you were with Seokjin.”
Jungkook places a gentle hand on top of your knee under the table. For whatever reason, you note that his grip feels stronger than you’d grown used to. You’d thought the hug was just because he missed you so much, but even this simple touch was- “He… he found me in the dressing room, cornered me there and told me he’d been trying to get me and Jungkook alone. Somewhere he could really do some damage.” You recite all that you readily remembered, some details slipping as you focus on Jungkook’s touch. Yoongi’s eyes never stop boring into you. “He said a lot. He… he said he wanted to give me a second chance.”
Lucifer raises a brow at you, “At…?”
“Life. He said that if I… if I ratted out Jungkook, he’d work things out with God to set my life back on track. Memories wiped, a new guardian angel, the works.” You can feel Jungkook stiffen next to you.
“And did you take him up on it?” Lucifer inquires.
“No! No, I would… I would never. But he was so insistent… It sounded like he really wanted me to say yes. I don’t think he was planning to betray me if I took him up on it either.”
Lucifer heaves a heavy sigh. Folding his hands underneath his chin, the king of hell spares a glance at Jungkook, “He’s got a thing for innocents: those he believes did no actual harm in a situation. He’s always been soft that way. He has more of an affinity for humans than I ever did, but I have more reason to loathe humans than he does, so I guess it’s understandable.”
“He did… mention that none of this was my fault.”
“Of course! You were only following the path life laid out for you. It was the fallen angel you have beside you that decided to shake things up, and aren’t you lucky he did? It doesn’t surprise me one bit that you’re still alive. You’ve done nothing but suffer the consequences, it seems, against your own will.”
“But what about the demon he fell for? Or his child? Weren’t they killed so he could keep his spot in heaven?”
Lucifer leans forward, “I’m assuming your friends haven’t made it known to you yet, but they aren’t dead. They are both very much alive. In fact, the child in question was one of the people that helped in tracking you down. The mother… she is here, in hell, meant to stay imprisoned for all eternity. Or at least until the rapture,” with that, Lucifer drinks again, maintaining eye contact with your shocked stare, “but it was best that no one knew of their whereabouts. Only a handful of people even know that Inhui still exists. It’s become something of a legend amongst the demons and angels, shrouded in confusion. None of the angels would care for the mother, but the child would start an earthly war if they knew one still walked the earth. As far as they’re concerned, the child probably died from the natural complications of being an abomination.”
You frown, “How is that possible? An angel for every human on earth… that’s billions of angels and no one has even noticed the guy?”
“I was wondering about that, actually. He told us that he’d been walking the earth for a while now. Surely someone would have taken notice, right?” Jungkook speaks next, having abandoned his food entirely.
Yoongi snaps out of his bored stance, “Tae’s an anomaly. He’s forgotten everywhere he goes. His impression barely lasts long. Those people he encountered early on considered him a dream, or a hallucination, or a possession of the mind. His actual presence is… hazy. It’s easier to remember him by his name or his number, but everything else is-”
“Intangible.” His father finishes with a flourish. “No ordinary angel or demon could ever put a face to the name, only a feeling. Along with the rather excessive amount of glamours he employs when amongst the public, it is no wonder no one has sounded the alarm. Go ahead and recall his face in your mind, fallen. I’m sure you couldn’t piece it together even if you wanted to.”
Jungkook’s face screws up a little as an attempt, stricken dumb moments later when he can’t utter a thing. Your stomach churns at the thought, soiling your appetite even more.
It seemed like there was more to that story than you were being told, but you imagined that it would be quite a lot to relay to you in more than one sitting. After all, you still had no clue what you’d missed since you’d been gone, and it only hadn’t terrified you senseless because you were at least certain that the biggest threat to everyone’s lives had been right there with you the whole time.
“If you’re not planning to eat anytime soon, is there anything else you’d like to know? It’s not every day a mortal like you gets to talk to Lucifer.” With a small flourishing wave of his hand, Lucifer smiles at you, charming as ever. It was so strange. Yoongi acted nothing like his father, and yet you saw every bit of him in his expression.
You imagined Yoongi felt the need to distance himself as much as he could from his father’s intimidating image and had ended up creating his own in the process. Where Lucifer was inviting, however, Yoongi was… not for everyone. Even as he stares over the table at you, eyes hooded with what appears to be indifference rather than lasciviousness, you can’t help but see the other in him.
“I suppose not,” you murmur, “but now that I have the chance, I don’t really know what to say.”
Lucifer continues to smile, “Don’t fret! I’m sure after the doozy you’ve been in, you’ll need to rest up. You’re more than welcome to stay here until you feel it’s safe to go back topside.”
The thought of treating hell like a hotel to stay in was tickling to say the least. The minute you rise, Jungkook follows suit, nearly knocking his chair over in the process to follow you. “I’d appreciate that. Is there… perhaps a room I could cool down in? Maybe a bathroom?”
Lucifer had deposited both you and Jungkook in a rather nice room, fitted with all the things you’d find in a nice resort room overlooking somewhere like the Bahamas. The dark, brooding colors of Hell follow you even here, and what little light you are allowed in the room comes from fire or mysterious ambience. Still, it’s enough to splash your face with (what you’re definitely sure is) water in the ensuite bathroom.
Jungkook sits at the foot of the bed, watching you, “I missed you.”
Since the moment that the Lord of Hell and his son had left you to your devices, you’d become increasingly aware that something was off about your angel. You had imagined that it had been from the sheer worry he felt over you, but it was starting to feel different from that. Something not so easily explained. If only… if only you could figure it out.
You pat your skin dry and look over at him, measuring him up and down. Appearance wise, he still had the same haircut, same clothes, same shoes. It was the aura that felt different.
Slowly, you approach him from the bathroom and wish that there would be more light in the room to examine him with. In that same moment, what appeared to be a ray of warm light halos above you both, giving you exactly what you had wished for. When Jungkook looks up, he looks… radiant. “I missed you too…” You whisper, reaching out a hand to cup his jaw. At your touch, he shudders, melting into you, and those eyes then laser focus on your own. “Are you okay?”
“I am now.” He answers without hesitation, then turns to kiss your inner palm with such a sensual drag of his lips that you grow hot instantly. The surprise makes you yank your hand away and you swear you hear him whine at the missing contact.
“Y-You just look different.” You squeak, holding the aforementioned hand to your chest as if he’d burned you.
Jungkook’s bushy brows furrow. “Do I?”
When Jungkook had been an angel, he’d had a distinct glow about him that set him apart from others. It was cliche, but it made sense then. You knew that you were dealing with someone from another world. When he’d turned human, he’d felt softer, normal. He didn’t glow in any particular way lest the light hit him through the window just right. But now… that glow was back. In a way that didn’t feel familiar.
You reach your hand out again, but this time you let it wander. You push his fringe back from his forehead, then behind his ear, then down his neck to where a sweatshirt hides his collarbones. In a daze, you fall to your knees before his seated frame and push the fabric back some. You find… nothing. You don’t even know what you’re looking for. A vampire bite? What is so different?
Your hand starts to fall mindlessly as you wrack your brain, but it’s all for naught when Jungkook catches hold of it and intertwines his fingers with yours. His grip is warm and solid. But it’s still- “I thought he’d hurt you.”
You look back up into Jungkook’s eyes as he now leans over you with an intense stare. His hair curls around his cheekbones and twists away from his face at the nape, each strand fluttering as he inches closer until the longest ones are touching your face. “Not much. He healed what he did anyway.”
At that, your angel’s eyes narrow in their scan over you, “What did he do?”
You instinctively swallow. Perhaps because you remember the feeling. Perhaps because Jungkook looks like he could kill. “He… he had to get me to limbo. He had to…” You touch the skin of your throat the same moment you break eye contact, feeling the ghost of Seokjin’s fingers there. It wasn’t so long ago that it had happened after all. You could honestly still feel it.
The silence grows until it’s nearly unbearable, you eventually finding that Jungkook will say nothing while you continue to avoid his gaze. Against your better judgement, you chance a look up at him.
You don’t get very long to look. Jungkook takes both sides of your face and lunges forward like a man possessed and you are forced to follow. In your surprise, you stumble back onto your elbows and Jungkook slots himself between your legs, latching onto your lips in a searing kiss. It’s hot and fast and immature, the kiss of a person who has never kissed before and may never get the chance to kiss again. Youngho had never kissed you like this.
A gentle whimper escapes your mouth but Jungkook inhales it into his own. You feel something primal burn inside you when Jungkook growls out, crouching over you now like a predator cornering his prey, and he’s practically consuming you when you start to kiss back. Can you blame yourself? You easily fold into the feeling because it’s Jungkook and goddamn if you hadn’t wanted to kiss him badly before.
His inexperience does very little to dissuade from how good it feels too, and as you start to take over to guide him, he is all too eager to feel your reciprocated passion. The heady feeling he gives you in his sudden attack pushes all thoughts of Seokjin or the last few days out of your mind like a fast-acting asprin. All you can think of now is how tightly coiled you’d been and how Jungkook is loosening you up one press of his lips at a time.
He lays you on your back and you happily oblige, no cushioning found on the hard floor but you couldn’t care less. Jungkook is careful not to be too rough, aware of your needs as much as his own, and it’s jarringly sweet the way he cradles the back of your head to keep you from hitting it on your descent.
When he’s had enough of your lips (as if he could ever), he starts attacking your neck. He’s lapping at your skin and biting away as if he’s trying to remove all traces of Seokjin’s hands… as if he’s replacing the feeling with him and him only. “I’ll kill him,” Jungkook whispers, a foreign fury in his voice that makes your haze disappear in an instant while he continues to work at your neck, “I’ll kill him for ever touching you.”
Your hand shoots to his hair, feeling your heart beat faster from more than just the kisses, “Kook-” But any attempt at sobering up washes away when, to your surprise, he ruts against you. Youngho had never been that good at using his hips like that either. There was something definitely off with Jungkook.
As much as it pains you, you grab at his hair and yank back, ignoring (or trying to) the filthy groan that he gives in response before peeling away from your skin. You gasp for breath, absolutely winded, “What is going on?”
Jungkook pants past wet lips, “What do you mean-”
“Did Yoongi do this to you?” The sudden heated moment is over when you say that.
Jungkook’s blood has run cold. You have a very strong, haunting feeling that your mounting suspicions have proven correct. His eyes… as gentle as they always were when they looked at you, told you everything. He was not the same Jungkook you’d come to know. Something had happened to him. Something irreversible. You touch his face again and this time Jungkook does not move to embrace it. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world. “Why?”
In an attempt to escape your pitiful gaze, Jungkook’s eyes flutter shut, cutting you off from seeing him vulnerable any longer. It breaks your heart the longer he stays silent. There’s no denying it now.
A tear of his touches the palm of your hand instead of his lips this time, “How else could I protect you?” He chokes, weak, “I’m not your angel anymore. I can’t be like you. This is the only way... the only way I could stand to look you in the eyes again.”
#majwrites#jungkook scenarios#jungkook imagines#jungkook au#angel!jungkook#jeon jungkook#bts scenarios#bts imagines#bts au#yoongi scenarios#yoongi imagines#yoongi au#demon!yoongi#min yoongi#bts#jungkook angst#yoongi angst#angel bts#demon bts
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Just One Night
Title: Just One Night
Pairings/Characters: Ron&Ginny siblingness, side Romione
Summary: Ron and Ginny have a moment at Bill and Fleur’s wedding
Prompts: For @chudleycanonficfest
Warnings: None
Originally published: August 24, 2021 on Fanfiction.net, ao3 and Tumblr
Reposted: N/A
For the briefest of moments, as her lips grazed his cheek when the song ended, he considered kissing her.
But the moment passed just as quickly as the question had come. She stepped away with flushed cheeks, but smiling.
"That was fun," she said breathlessly. "But I don't think I can dance anymore. My feet… they're so sore. Thanks, Ron."
"No problem," Ron replied, feeling the rush of his emotions begin to subside now that she was no longer touching him. "I'm a bit tired myself… er… do you want me to get some Butterbeers? Go find Harry and I'll bring some over."
Hermione beamed and nodded. "That would be great."
Before anymore could be said, she disappeared into the crowd.
For a moment, Ron stood amongst the dancing crowd and closed his eyes, relishing in the time they'd just spent together. It had been thrilling, exciting, and he dared not think about what could have happened had they continued to dance.
He touched the place where her lips had touched his cheek. The spot tingled, and it was a good feeling. And they'd been so close… so…
I should have done something, he thought admonishingly to himself as he went to where the drinks were being kept. It had been the perfect opportunity. He'd had her in his arms, they'd been dancing, with their bodies so close… there'd been something there, he hadn't imagined it.
He shook his head.
It was too late now. The moment had gone, she was gone…
He grabbed three Butterbeer bottles and was on his way to find Hermione and Harry when something stopped him. In the briefest of moments, his already fragile heart had crumbled before him. It shouldn't have, because they weren't actually doing anything, but…
Krum. She was talking to Krum and she was smiling. She looked so happy.
She smiled with you, too, he reminded himself, though it wasn't much comfort. Ron might have been able to make her smile, but he didn't have the fame or the money or the popularity to go along with it. Making her smile was the only thing he had.
The familiar pang of jealousy hit him — swirling around him, engulfing him. He had no right to feel as he did, for she was free to choose who she wanted. But he wanted it to be him — he wanted it so much that the reality of the situation was near unbearable.
He loved her. He'd known for a while, working through the confusing, yet exhilarating, feelings it brought him.
He loved her...
"I have no idea why he got invited."
Ron startled, surprised to see Ginny standing beside him. Her eyes were also on Hermione and Krum.
Ron didn't say anything. He looked at the three bottles in his hand. "Yeah, well… I've got to go and give these to…"
He made to leave, but Ginny said, "You're better, you know?"
Ron paused, turning back to face her. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Ginny nodded towards Krum. "You're better than him. For her, I mean."
Ron felt his face flush, but he refused to look back over at Hermione and Krum. He watched his sister for a moment, trying to figure out if she was being serious or not. The look on her face told him that she was.
For the first time ever, he decided to be honest with her. "In what way?" he asked quietly.
Ginny shook her head. "I don't know… I'm just repeating what she told me. He's just a friend — she said she's not the slightest bit interested in him in that way. Her words, not mine."
Ron swallowed. When had the room gotten so warm? "She said that?"
Ginny nodded. "She picks you. She won't tell you, because of everything that's going on — you know, all your secret plans and all — but… it's you, Ron."
Ron finally found the courage to look back over. Hermione wasn't anywhere in sight, but he spotted Krum skulking the edges of the tent, watching everyone with his usual deadpan expression. He released a breath he didn't even know he was holding.
"Why are you telling me this?" he asked after a moment. It wasn't like his sister to be this nice, but he couldn't sense any mockery in her voice.
Ginny smiled. "Because it's a wedding, a celebration of love, and the pair of you love each other, but you're too stupid to do anything about it. Besides, I couldn't bear the look of self-pity when you saw them talking just a moment ago."
"I wasn't —" He stopped. Who was he kidding? He had been self-pitying.
Ginny raised an eyebrow, though she was being overly nice to him tonight so it didn’t last long. “Listen, I just thought you should know that you don’t have anything to worry about… about Krum. He’s… he’s not in the way. Not for her.”
Ron cast his eyes around the tent again, and through a gap in the dancers, he saw Hermione at one of the tables with Harry. She was still flushed in the face, smiling widely, and just looking happy to be where she was. She had spent a lot of time crying over the past weeks — over her parents mostly — so to see her smile warmed him.
At the end of the school year, he’d thought that maybe something could happen. He’d been hopeful that it would, even taking the time to read the book Fred and George had gotten him. And the time together before Harry arrived, even the time after, tonight… it had filled him with a joy that he couldn’t quite grasp.
There had been something there tonight. It hadn’t just been two friends dancing. It had been… something more. Maybe, had they let things go longer, it might have ended with them sharing a kiss.
But all it had taken was seeing her with Krum — someone better at Quidditch than him, someone more famous than he’d ever be, and someone with more money than Ron could ever dream of — and all that hope had gone out in an instant.
Now, Ginny was telling him something completely different to what his mind had imagined —
“There's no better time to do it than at a wedding," Ginny said, almost reading his thoughts.
Ron nodded, though he didn't make to move anywhere. Despite it all — despite wanting to — in a few short days they would be leaving, going to who knew where, and he knew that until they found and destroyed all of the Horcruxes then there'd be no time for romance. So what was the point?
Just one night, he found himself thinking. Just tonight, it can be good.
Still clutching the Butterbeers, he moved forward, keeping his eyes on her, repeating in his head what he might say. Maybe he'd take her from the tent, have some privacy, at least see what she'd have to say.
But he was only halfway there when the Patronus arrived. Kingsley, telling them the Ministry had fallen.
Panicked ensued after that, and Ron was thrown to the side as people made desperate attempts to escape what they all now knew to be an attack.
He felt the Butterbeer bottles slip from his hands and spill over his shoes. He ignored it, pushing through the panic.
Hermione was his only thought. He'd lost sight of her and Harry in the mess, but somewhere, somehow, he thought he could hear her… calling his name.
He followed it, and a moment later he saw them. He saw the relief on both of his friends' faces, not just Hermione's.
And then Hermione Disapparated them, sucking them into a void away from the danger. After that, any hope of the night ending well — of just enjoying one night with her — was erased.
Now they had to find Horcruxes.
----
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#weasleys#harry potter fanfiction#fanfiction#hp fanfiction#ron & ginny#romione#deathly hallows fanfiction
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A Place to Belong Chapter 26: Telling Stories
Chapter 25
Read on AO3
In late February, the Redcoats came back.
They were evidently not satisfied that Claire was who Jenny said she was the last time they were here, when Jenny had shown off the potato-baby.
Claire was in the middle of changing Brianna’s diaper in her bedroom when the front door burst open. Claire’s heart leapt into her throat and her hands froze for a moment. She carefully continued tying off the diaper as she listened to the hushed voices from behind her slightly ajar bedroom door.
“...rumors in the village…”
“...a healer that lives here…”
“How is your cousin, Madame Murray?”
Claire swallowed, feeling like prickly sand was running down her throat as she did so. Her bedroom was no priest hole, but she felt it would be wise if she and Brianna stayed hidden. If they decided to search the house, well...she’d worry about that when the time came.
“Kitty play!” Brianna shouted.
“Shh!” Claire hushed. “We must be very quiet, Brianna.”
In deliberate defiance, Brianna gave a loud shriek, and Claire thought she might vomit. Brianna dissolved into a fit of giggles, quite amused with herself.
The voices downstairs stopped briefly, and Claire’s pulse only returned to normal when she heard Jenny’s voice again:
“One of the bairns. Ye ken how they are.”
Once Brianna was dressed again, Claire rushed to the windowsill, where Lambert had been left.
“Let’s play with Lamb, darling. How does that — ”
She turned around and Brianna was no longer sitting on the bed, and the door was slightly more open than before.
Fucking hell.
Claire dropped the lamb and sprinted out of the bedroom and down the hall after Brianna, toddling with impressive speed toward the stairs. Claire hiked up her skirts and reached her in four quick strides, scooping her into her arms, eliciting a shrill yell from the toddler that halted conversation at the bottom of the stairs again.
Claire looked over the banister at the three Redcoats cornering Jenny, who remained calm and level-headed as ever. All four of them were now staring upward. Claire wet her lips, her heart bruising her ribcage. She forced a pleasant smile and curtsied slightly before quickly turning around with the intention of slipping back into her bedroom and keeping Brianna occupied until they were gone.
“Madame.”
Fuck.
“Do come downstairs, if you don’t mind.”
That is not a request.
Claire took a shuddering breath, and her chin began to tremble.
“Brianna, love, we’re going to play a game, alright?”
“Play game?”“Shh...yes, a game.” Claire was whispering into her hair, quiet enough that she barely heard herself. “A quiet game. You must not make any noise. If you win the game and stay quiet, you may have as many biscuits as you want.”
“Biscuit!”
“Shh...quiet, lovie. Yes?”
Brianna nodded silently, pursing her lips together absurdly. Claire slowly made her way to the stairs and descended, clutching Brianna tightly. No doubt the soldiers had heard Brianna’s half of the conversation, but thankfully what she’d said could pass as a child making unprompted requests.
The other children were likely in the nursery with Mrs. Crook, aside from wee Jamie, who was likely outside with Rabbie and Fergus. If only Claire had changed her diaper faster, had been able to get her to the nursery before they were noticed…
“Good day, Madame,” the captain greeted. Claire smiled woodenly.
“This is the very same babe ye saw the last time ye were here, Captain,” Jenny interjected before he could prompt Claire to speak. She stretched out her arms, smiling brightly as she took Brianna in her arms. “My wee Brianna Murray.”
“How very charming,” the captain said dryly.
“Lizzie is her godmother,” Jenny continued, flashing a secret look at Claire. “Ye remember my cousin.”
Elizabeth. Jenny’s cousin, Brianna’s godmother. The role I’m playing right now.
“Indeed,” the captain said, eyeing Claire suspiciously.
“Mistress Fraser is visiting us again just now,” Jenny went on, rocking Brianna gently, keeping her smile wide.
Thank God Brianna would do anything for a biscuit. If I hadn’t pulled the quiet game out of my arse she’d have called me Mummy eight times already.
“And does Mistress Fraser have any healing abilities?” he pressed.
“Oh, aye,” Jenny said warmly. “Whenever she visits she offers what help she can to our tenants. We’re very grateful to her.”
“Tell me, Mistress Fraser,” the Captain said, turning to address Claire directly. “Where did you learn such abilities? Family trade?”
“She — ”
“I’d like to hear her myself, Madame Murray,” the captain said, clipped and aggravated. “Go on, Miss.”
Claire was trembling head to toe. She cleared her throat and answered in a raspy whisper: “Aye, Sir.” She took care to emphasize the ‘r’ the best she could.
“Do speak up, please.”
Claire exaggeratedly cleared her throat again, then touched her throat before forcing herself into a coughing fit. Jenny immediately caught on.
“Apologies, Captain. My cousin has caught something from one of our tenants, and she’s been having trouble wi’ her voice lately, ye ken.”
Claire carried on with her coughing, and the three soldiers unconsciously stepped back a few paces.
“Collins. Get the lady some water, for God’s sake,” the Captain ordered.
“Yes, sir.”
“Dangerous for the child, is it not?” The Captain said. “Having a sick woman hold it so close?”
Claire finally let her coughing subside, and she allowed herself to start panting.
“Och, the bairns have all had the sickness already. Canna catch it again,” Jenny said offhandedly, and despite the situation, Claire swelled with pride.
She’s been paying attention when I speak of these things.
“Ah. I see.” The captain took a step forward, unclasping his hands from behind his back. “Such a...vibrant color.” He reached a hand toward Brianna, and wrapped a curl around his finger. Claire’s stomach lurched. “Quite...red.”
Red Jamie.
“Aye, my mother’s color,” Jenny said with pride, though Claire could see the fear in her eyes.
“None of your other children have it,” the Captain said, amused. “It’s astonishing, really.”
Collins returned then with a glass of water, and Claire accepted it with a polite nod, having to concentrate very hard to keep the water from sloshing out with the force of her trembling.
“My wee Maggie has a bit of it as well,” Jenny said dismissively. “Bits of red woven in wi’ blonde — ”
“Remarkable isn’t it,” the Captain went on. “The resemblance. Don’t you think, Collins?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Resemblance, Captain?” Jenny asked uneasily.
“To her...uncle.”
“Och,” Jenny said quickly. “Unfortunate that the traitor inherited much of our mother’s beauty as well. Suits the bairn much better, don’t ye think?”
“Indeed.” The Captain’s finger was still woven into Brianna’s hair, and Claire had never before felt such a deep urge to kill somebody.
Jamie would cut his bloody hand off.
“Are you a widow, Mistress Fraser?” The Captain said, abruptly turning his head to face her, his hand still touching Brianna. “And a mother, perhaps?”
Claire shook her head.
“Lizzie’s never been marrit,” Jenny said lightly. “I often tease her about it.”
Jenny made a move to shift Brianna, to inadvertently get her away from his grip, but he very abruptly seized a fistful of her curls and held on tightly, forcing Jenny to cause Brianna pain by pulling against his hand. Brianna yelped and began wailing. Jenny’s face turned white, and Claire’s vision went red, pressure building between her temples.
“Are you quite sure, Mistress Fraser?”
“Captain, please, ye’re hurting her — ”
“I’d like the truth, please, from Mistress Fraser’s tongue.”
Brianna shrieked again.
Claire forced herself to start coughing again, using all the breath in her lungs to create as realistic a hacking sound as she could manage.
“For Heaven’s sake, Madame. Enough.”
Claire let the glass slip from her grip and shatter at her feet, then rolled her eyes to the back of her head and dropped to the ground.
“Lizzie?” Jenny called. “Captain, please, she needs help, she’s ill — ”
“Get her up onto the sofa!” The Captain barked, beyond irritated.
Brianna’s shrieking was growing louder and louder, likely distraught to see her mother topple over. Claire’s heart was in her throat, tears gathering behind her closed eyelids, her arms aching to press Brianna into her.
Claire was roughly lifted by the two soldiers and laid out on the sofa. Jenny called for Laura and ordered her to take Brianna into the nursery with the other children. Claire bit her lip to stifle her sigh of relief; this meant that the bastard no longer had his hands on her daughter.
Jenny began fretting over Claire, putting a rag on her head, dabbing at her neck.
“She’s burning up,” Jenny cried, distraught.
In a different century, Jenny would make quite the actress.
“Captain, I’m heart sorry, I’ll be happy to answer any questions ye have, but my cousin is no’ well, as ye can clearly see.”
A heavy, tangible silence followed, and Claire could hear the Captain sigh heavily, almost giving way to a growl.
“Very well. When she wakes, offer her my well wishes and a fast recovery.” His voice was thin and tight.
Three sets of footsteps retreated, and then there was a great crashing noise that made Claire jump on the sofa. The footsteps continued and the front door opened and slammed shut.
Claire immediately shot up off the sofa, and Jenny firmly grabbed her shoulders. Claire vaguely registered that the contents of the mantle had been swept onto the floor, creating a mess in the parlor in the Captain’s rage.
“Stay, sister. In case they return.”
“Brianna...I need her…” Claire’s eyes were wide and frantic, her breathing shallow and panicked.
“She’s alright, Claire. She’s wi’ Mrs. Crook. He didna hurt her.”
“I could kill him...disgusting, loathsome man…” Claire spat, her entire body trembling under Jenny’s hands.
“I ken. It’s over now, sister. It’s alright.” Jenny wrapped her arms around her, and despite the urge to run, to kill, to scream, Claire simply melted in her arms, weeping bitterly.
“That was...horrible, Jenny…”
“I ken, mo ghraidh. It’s over now. Ye did well.”
“Her screams…Oh God…”
“I can bear pain myself, but I couldna bear yours. That would take more strength than I have.”
I cannot bear her pain.
“She’s alright, Claire. She willna even remember this.”
Claire nodded against Jenny’s shoulder, sniffling. At least there was that one small comfort.
“I think it’s been long enough, now. Let’s go,” Jenny said, smiling weakly. “I feel I must hold my own bairns just now, as well.”
That night, and every night thereafter, Claire wondered how much longer they’d be able to keep up this act.
——
March 19th, 1749
It was one of those rare moments of peace, a crackling fire accompanied by the glowing moonlight. Claire was knitting new arm warmers for Maggie, as she’d outgrown her old ones yet again, passing them down to Kitty, who passed her old ones down to Brianna. Brianna was restless beside Claire in bed, tossing and turning back and forth, Lamb tucked under her arm.“Mummy,” Brianna blurted.
“Shh...quiet darling,” Claire whispered. “It’s time to sleep.”
“Story, Mummy.” Brianna sat up and began tugging on the sleeve of Claire’s nightgown. “Story, Mummy.”
“Story, Mummy...what?” Claire looked up from her knitting, cocking an eyebrow at the demanding toddler.
“Story Mummy please?” Brianna said, her ocean-eyes widening, and her bottom lip sticking out in that irresistible pout.
“Well, alright,” Claire grinned, setting aside her knitting on the side table. “Since you asked so nicely.”
Brianna grinned a crooked, toothy smile and clapped her hands.
“Come here, lovie.” Claire opened her arms, and Brianna crawled into her lap, nuzzling herself into Claire’s breast, resting a pudgy palm on the soft flesh at the top of her nightgown, the latching instinct apparently not having left her just yet despite being recently weaned.
Claire hummed with contentment, feeling her little girl settling into her, safe and protected in her mother’s arms, where she belonged.
“Which story do you want to hear, darling? The one about the little princess, and the seven dwarves?”
Claire was not brought up on fairytales at all; any tales told to her by Uncle Lamb were folklore of whatever land they were currently occupying, based in culture, religion, or scientific fact. She hadn’t been raised on princes and princesses like other girls had. She hadn’t gone to see Snow White in 1938 for any reason other than curiosity at its novelty: the first full-length animated motion picture. She’d enjoyed it, and teared up more than she’d liked to admit during the dwarves’ funeral for the princess, mostly because Uncle Lamb had been openly weeping, surely remembering the funeral that Claire was too young to be affected by, a funeral of matching coffins.
It was a fond memory she kept tucked away, something she stopped speaking about after Uncle Lamb had passed. She found herself speaking of it again, telling Brianna the little fairytale as best as she could remember from her one viewing of it. It was simple enough: little princess runs away from an evil queen, lives with seven little men, is saved by her prince, and off they go to happily-ever-after. Brianna enjoyed it well enough, and it made Claire smile to think of telling her about motion pictures someday, and revealing that her favorite of Mummy’s stories was actually created by a man named Walt Disney, each frame individually drawn and painted with as much care as the portraits done by her Grannie Ellen and her Auntie Jenny.
“No Princess. No dw-avs,” Brianna says simply. “Queen, Mummy.”
Claire smiled wistfully, a quiet sadness settling in her chest.
The tale of Laird and Lady Lallybroch was another one of her favorites.
“Alright, lovie.” Claire kissed the crown of her head.
“Once upon a time, there was a brave, dashing warrior.” Claire felt her little girl smile against her breast. “He had hair like flames and eyes like deep water. Just like yours, baby. He called himself Laird Broch Tuarach, and he lived with his Lady.”
“Lady Bock Too-wack,” Brianna cooed, and Claire gave a watery chuckle.
“That’s right, sweetheart. Lady Broch Tuaroch. She was the most important thing in the world to the Laird. She was…”
“Queen!” Brianna said.
“And he was…”
“King!”
“That’s right, lovie. Their own little kingdom. They loved each other very, very much.” Her voice got tight, and she wound her arms tighter around Brianna. “So very much, that they decided to bring a little princess into the world.” Brianna gave a little giggle. The more she heard the story, the more she began to process that the little princess in question was her.
“The Laird had to go away, leave his Lady and their little princess. But, he left behind a special gift before he had to go away. Special for his little girl.”
Brianna proudly held up the little lamb, and Claire chuckled again.
“That’s right, darling. Fraser colors, so that your father will always be with you.” She pressed a fervent kiss to the top of Brianna’s head.
“The end,” Brianna said contentedly, pressing Lamb back into her chest.
Claire didn’t say anything for a moment. She rocked Brianna silently, her chin resting atop her wild curls, feeling her squishy cheek pressed into the crook of her neck.
“Brianna?” She broke the silence. “Do you know that the warrior, the Laird, the King...do you know that he’s...he’s your Da?”
Brianna had heard the word before. Her cousins said it every day to Ian, about Ian. She wondered if her little brain could grasp it yet, what it meant to have a Da. Or to not have one.
She didn’t expect Brianna to say anything, didn’t expect her to understand well enough. This story was Claire’s way of telling her daughter that she had a father that loved her, even before she would understand. Someday she’d understand.
Claire thought she was hearing things again when Brianna’s little voice said:
“Da.”
She’s just parroting. She’s only two-and-a-half years old. She doesn’t understand.
But logic was powerless to stop the raw emotion that slammed into Claire at the sound of Jamie’s daughter calling out to him.
“That’s right, baby,” she croaked, squeezing her as tightly as she dared. “Da loves you.”
“Da…” Brianna cooed once more, before the sound morphed into a little snore, and she was fast asleep against her.
Claire allowed the tiniest of sobs to escape her lips before she clenched her entire body to silence herself. With the greatest care, Claire laid Brianna on the mattress beside her and then clamped a hand over her mouth, feeling hot tears run over her fingers.
How many tears must I cry? How many nights must I burn alive with this pain?
And yet...how blessed have I been…?
She took a shuddering breath, running her fingers lightly over Brianna’s downy soft curls.
How blessed am I to have you here still? How blessed am I to raise her in your honor, to teach her to love your memory as much as I loved your flesh and blood?
Could she? Could Brianna ever understand the depth of her father’s love for her, the depth of her mother’s love for him?
I’ll do my damndest, Jamie.
I will never stop telling our story.
#outlander#outlander au#outlander fanfic#outlander fanfiction#claire fraser#jamie fraser#jenny murray#brianna fraser#brianna randall#claire beauchamp
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Gratitude
I was not initially planning to post about this, given that my unfortunate tendency to over-share has caused me quite a bit of grief in the past, but the truth is that I simply couldn’t resist this time. Typically when I am overcome by an uncontrollable desire to post it is because I am desperately in need of attention or validation, so much so that I can’t actually remember a time when I posted because I was genuinely eager to share something. It was always out of some perverse and misplaced sense of obligation, but it finally feels as if that burden is lifted. While I was writing this post, it was because I felt a genuine…. pride over something I had accomplished, something I genuinely wanted to share with the world. When I chose the name of this blog I didn’t earnestly expect that I would ever feel anything other than shame about myself… it seemed more an ideal than an actual plausible prediction. I’m just so relieved my wish came true.
Anyway, I suppose that is quite enough navel-gazing for the time being… I can only imagine my followers have probably had enough of that to last a long and fulfilling lifetime. I reckon it’s time to move on to the actual story.
As most of you well know, following the dramatic events of the Kristahlia drama, I suddenly found myself with the new responsibility of parenthood. There are certainly aspects of my new lifestyle that have been difficult to adjust to… principle of which is that I am supposed to serve as a sort of role model for these developing and damaged boys. I have never been particularly aspirational, in fact you would be hard-pressed to find someone as underperforming as me. Although I was prone to overcompensating for such things, always desperately trying to prove that I was capable of as much as the bare minimum, looking back I see that I grew too comfortable with those low expectations. When it registered that as a caretaker I would suddenly have to perform a sort of excellence, not for the sake of my fragile ego but for the betterment of these children… I was immediately overcome by a painful inadequacy. However, as our first week together progressed, I came to realize that in certain regards all of us were personally inadequate, and it was for that very reason we had taken on this responsibility together. Although I certainly had my short-comings, that wasn’t something unique to me, and over time we all began to coordinate better and help manage each other’s weaknesses. I was somewhat surprised to learn this was not only true of the adults, but the children as well. The dynamic we developed as a family was rather symbiotic… I found that regardless of age we all had something to offer each other.
Regardless, I promised myself that I would do whatever it took to keep my found family as distant as possible from my most severe personal issues. My past was something I felt I had to resolve independently, no matter how tempting it was to once again depend on the people in my life to solve my problems in my stead. That is why when I made the decision to start looking into Anton’s whereabouts, I never spoke a word about it to my housemates.
Facebook made finding his account incredibly easy, distressingly so in fact. I became acutely aware of the possibility that he might have been recommended my account numerous times over the years and had consciously chosen not to send me a friend request, which although completely understandable still hurt immensely to imagine. Perhaps my hopelessly romantic dream to reconnect with the man was unrequited, and would be rejected with extreme prejudice if vocalized. Eventually, however, I managed to muster up the courage to actually inspect his profile. I discovered that after our quarrel six years ago and his subsequent transferral Anton had moved back to his hometown in Ann Arbor to complete his degree in art and design. Since graduating, he had been working as a freelance artist and animator… he often posted about how proud of his projects he was, and it was reassuring to see his enthusiasm had not diminished in the slightest over the years. One detail about his profile that immediately jumped out at me was his relationship status, which was currently set to single. Despite myself, I immediately felt a small flicker of hope ignite within my quickened heart. Upon further investigation, it appeared he’d been involved in several relationships over the years that had ultimately ended in failure, although the circumstances were unclear. I only hoped he hadn’t made a habit of dating unappreciative losers…
I managed to quell my anxiety briefly and force myself to send him a friend request, which almost immediately filled me with a sense of mounting dread. My anticipation wasn’t even allowed much time to simmer, because mere minutes after I sent the message I was notified that it had been accepted. Instinctively, I slammed my laptop shut and jumped out of my seat, forgetting that I was incapable of standing up so quickly without losing all feeling in my legs and face planting into the floor. I instantly regretted not taking Addy’s advice and getting that checked by a doctor, because soon enough the entire family was in my room gathered around my body and asking questions with varying degrees of concern and amusement. Although I had wanted to keep my activity a secret, at that moment I was swept away in the drama, and so I began to mindlessly rant about the situation.
I don’t know what I was expecting, but soon enough there were six pairs of hands all frantically scrambling for control of my keyboard. While I laid incapacitated on the floor, my friends had taken it upon themselves to respond to Anton’s messages, each expressing their own thoughts from my account in randomly alternating orders depending on who had managed to prevail in the wrestling. It seemed that Iara maintained the upper hand most of the fight, although it was admittedly difficult to tell over the frenzy at times considering my limited view from the floor.
Eventually, the chaos subsided and everyone turned to look at me with beaming smiles on their faces, some more devious than others. I immediately began to worry that they had sabotaged me somehow, be it in light-hearted jest or in an earnest act of betrayal, and so I asked them nervously what exactly they had done. For a moment it seemed they were trying to contain their excitement, but it didn’t take long for them to erupted into an uproarious celebration, complete with victorious chants that Anton was coming to meet us in person this evening!
I didn’t know how to react. All at once a tempest of conflicting emotions completely overpowered me… and I mean that quite literally. I knocked out cold, and when I finally woke up I discovered that not only had Kyler been trying to shock me awake by applying Takis to my tongue, but that the situation had not miraculously resolved itself. Although everyone else had mostly settled down, my mind was whirling a mile a minute with all of the things I had to do to prepare. I had a whole bucket list I needed to accomplish before I was comfortable standing in front of Anton again… and as much as I hated to admit it, I couldn’t possibly get everything done myself over such a brief time. To my surprise, I didn’t even have a chance to put my reservations aside before they had already agreed to help me based off of my panicked listing of errands alone. Despite my reluctance to involve my new friends in the more turbulent aspects of personal life, it seemed they were actually eager to get involved themselves… I discovered that my problems were not an inconvenience to them, but rather something they were excited to help me work through.
The first obstacle I had to overcome was also the hardest… that being that I had never properly apologized to Gabriella and Lana for my dishonest and frankly abusive treatment. It wasn’t so much that I didn’t have the words to express my remorse or that I hadn’t processed my guilt, but that Gabriella’s parting words to me specifically informed me not to contact her and I didn’t want to once again disrespect her wishes. However, after some words of encouragement from the family, I managed to write a relatively concise three thousand word email taking responsibility for my past actions and wishing the couple well. As I was writing this post, I actually received a response from the two telling me they appreciated my apology and were glad to see I had grown into a more mature person. Apparently they have just finished settling into their cottage and are now doing better than ever. Lana even expressed an interest in meeting Addy and Iara in particular sometime… I suppose it’s a sapphic thing. I’m just glad that they’re finally living the happy life they deserve without being held back by backwards men.
My email took longer to type then I had expected, and although I certainly can not regret pouring my heart into the message given its importance, it did mean that we had to pick up the pace with the rest of the bucket list. Kyler took this quite literally, speeding at what must have been 100 miles per hour towards the mall despite nearly giving me a heart attack and my insistence that he not set such a bad example for Chris and Klav. We actually ended up getting pulled over, but luckily Iara managed to scare the officer away with her signature scowl. The next few hours were a frantic rush of errands, all focused on helping me actually express myself without the burden of repression. There were moments when it was a struggle, such as when I nearly hyperventilated in Claire’s before they pierced my ears, but ultimately I am immensely satisfied with the results. The most fulfilling moment was finally getting the tips of my hair bleached white to match my new profile picture. Chris actually got his hair dyed alongside me, changing his style from pale blond to black and white to reflect his new kin. It was incredibly rewarding to accomplish this alongside him… I had never been the subject of anything but disappointment from my parents, so it was an incredible feeling to be able to experience that absent parental pride for myself, even if it was with a different perspective.
By the time Anton was forecasted to arrive, my appearance had been upgraded to better reflect my current sense of self… all that was left was for me to get in the right mindset. Luckily, my family was perfectly eager to act as my own personal “hype beasts,” as Kyler put it. They offered excellent emotional support in the half-hour we sat in the den patiently awaiting his arrival, especially Addy, who really took my mind off things by offering to play me in a game of chess. I lost quite handedly, but for once I don’t have it in me to be a spoilsport. When we heard that fateful knock at the door, they all immediately ran into the nearest closest and shut themselves inside to give us some space, but not before giving me a final set of encouraging thumbs up. I hesitated for a moment, questioning once again whether I was really ready to take such a big step in my life. My hand paused, hovering over the door knob uncertainly… until I heard the faint sounds of Steely Dan’s Come on Eileen coming from inside the closet, accompanied by the muffled sound of Klav’s giggle. Reignited by the familiar sounds of my favorite musicians, I swung the door open with a new and uncharacteristic conviction.
And there he was… I was immediately captivated by just how strong his presence was. My memories hadn’t done him justice… it really was like I was in the presence of an angel. I was comforted by certain familiar aspects of his appearance, such as his golden brown eyes that glistened like stars, his long curly hair with its comforting strawberry aroma, and his signature checkered scarf that he had been consistently wearing for almost decade now… but what really excited me were those new features. Normally I am turned off by change, but I was positively breathless as soon as my eyes wandered to the golden butterfly tattoo on his exposed shoulder. I felt as if I was going to faint for a second time in one day.
I couldn’t find the words to express the depths of my emotion no matter how hard I searched my impassioned soul... there were no words strong enough. Instead I just cried, and wordlessly he accepted me into his arms… just like he had on that life-changing night all those years ago. I finally told him everything I had so obstinately refused to say during college… that I was gay, that I was in love with him, and that I was sorry. Although I was openly weeping, I don’t think I’ve ever felt more relieved in my life.
Eventually, he managed to pacify me… and so I was able to explain to him the entire story of the Kristahlia drama. It was difficult to explain that I had managed to go from discoursing with these teenage kinnies to adopting them, but he was as understanding as he ever was. He was so excited to meet my family that he even brought his cat Apple all the way from Michigan just to introduce her to them. I don’t think I have ever mentioned this publicly, but when Krissy died I had to take her dog Diogenes in myself, and I was surprised to find that the two animals got along perfectly. It really did feel like the entire house was accepting him... it was as if this was meant to be.
Since Anton had gone to all the trouble of making the ten hour drive to Iowa, he suggested that we might as well all hang out together in Cedar Rapids over the weekend. I suppose it’s a date... I must say that I am looking forward to it, as are the others. I know I didn’t deserve to be accepted by him again just because I spent a few hours shedding tears and profusely apologizing, but for once I don’t feel guilty that I have received something I don’t deserve. I just feel... an overwhelming gratitude for the opportunity.
I am certainly still inexperienced at this whole family business and have accepted that I will inevitably make some mistakes in the future, but I don’t think I’ve done too poorly for a first week, if I do say so myself. I am truly grateful to all the people in my life who have supported me through my journey, who have taught me that it is possible to rely on others without being a parasite and to be relied on without shouldering the entire burden.
To my partners, my friends, my children, and my love... from the bottom of my heart, thank you.
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11. Geranium (determination)
“Come on,” Steve called, voice echoing a little in the empty pool. “Come to me.”
“I can’t,” Tony said in response, words hissed out through gritted teeth. “I would already be there if I could.”
“Yes, you can,” Steve said patiently, not rising to the anger in Tony’s voice. “Just let go of the side and walk.”
Steve said it so simply that Tony would have rolled his eyes had he not been concentrating so hard on staying alive. His grip on the tiled side only grew tighter to the point that his knuckles turned white from the strength.
“I can’t.”
“Tony,” Steve’s voice was calm but had a slight plead to it. Unsurprising really, given how long they’d been stuck in the same situation. It had to be at least an hour, if not more. Never let it be said that Steve didn’t have the patience of a saint. “Let go.”
“Steve, it’s too deep!”
“It’s not, sweetheart, I promise. Just take one step.”
Tony growled and rubbed his face on his bicep, not wanting to risk releasing his hands. “I can’t do it.”
“Yes, you can. Just take one step. Let go of one hand from the side and take one step out here.”
Tony took a deep breath, then another, and then one more. His left hand stayed firmly on the solid edge, but his right relaxed slowly until it finally slipped from the side, his arm rigid so that his hand stayed hovering in the air.
“That’s it, Tony,” Steve coaxed, pride warming his voice. He was stood a few feet in front of Tony, his hands outstretched in welcome.
Tony lifted one foot and took a single step forward before he froze, legs apart. “Steve, I can’t do this.”
“You can, you know you can. Take one more step.” Tony opened his mouth but Steve held up a hand. “I wouldn’t lie to you, would I? It’s okay. One step.”
Tony squeezed his eyes closed and sucked in a breath, pursing his lips and letting the air out slowly. He shuffled awkwardly until his feet were together once more. He took another step until he was far enough out that only his fingertips were touching the tiled side. His arms began to shake and his breathing started to come a bit quicker.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” Steve coaxed, smile widening. “You’re doing so well, I promise. Take just one more step and you’ll be standing on your own.”
“Steve, I can’t.” Tony stopped and stared up at Steve, eyes wide and frantic. He hated water. He hated everything to do with water. Most days, he was lucky if he managed to take a shower that lasted longer than five minutes, and he made sure Jarvis spoke to him the entire time that his head was underwater in order to wash his hair. Static water made up most of Tony’s nightmares, even as many years as it had been since the cave. “I can’t. I can’t, I can’t.”
“Hey, hey.” Steve was quick to call out, but he didn’t take a step towards Tony, choosing to beckon instead of touching. Tony shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut once more, not wanting to look at where he was standing or be tempted to do something stupid like walk towards Steve’s ridiculously-inviting arms. “Do you trust me?”
That snapped Tony out of his panicked protests and his eyes flew open again, looking over at Steve like he’d gone mad. “What?”
“Do you trust me?” Steve repeated, his voice slow and words deliberate as he held Tony’s gaze.
Tony didn’t have to think about his answer for a moment. “Yes.”
It was only a simple reply, but that one-word answer that might have been the most truthful word Tony he’d ever said. Despite the length of time that it had taken them to get there, Tony knew that there wasn’t ever going to be a time in his future where he didn’t trust Steve Rogers with everything he had.
“Then do it,” Steve said, voice ever so gentle as he dropped one hand to play with the surface of the water. “One step; just the one. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, ever. Just trust me.”
Tony took another deep breath, chest heaving and hands shaking. He took one miniscule step forward, though it was a large enough distance for the cool touch of the tiles to disappear from his fingertips. His pulse raced as he moved, steps starting to move a little quicker in his desperation to touch Steve. When Tony finally got close enough to take Steve’s hand, the man beamed at him, smile brighter than the sun.
“What are you smiling at?” Tony asked. It didn’t seem like there was all that much to be happy about; his palms were sweating, his head hurt, and he was shaking far too much. The water was at least warm, but that was the only positive that Tony could draw from the experience.
“Look around you,” Steve said, his voice impossibly soft and his grin not faltering.
Tony finally dragged his eyes from Steve’s and looked down to see what he was talking about. He startled violently when he saw the ripples swirling around his waist, the clear blue water splashing up onto his chest. His eyes snapped up to Steve’s in shock and something in his chest bloomed as he took in the pride clearly flashing in them.
Keeping one hand firmly intertwined with Steve’s, Tony very slowly, very carefully, lowered his fingers to the water. The moment seemed to go on forever and ever before he finally broke the surface of the pool, dipping the very tips of his fingers into the warm liquid.
Nothing happened.
Tony wasn’t entirely sure what he’d been expecting, but he still let out a startled laugh when absolutely nothing did.
He couldn’t believe that he was standing here, over waist deep in water for the first time in years. He turned his head to look over his shoulder, needing to see proof that he was standing in the middle of the swimming pool. The tiled edge was a few feet away from him and suddenly a thought occurred to him. He turned back to Steve with one eyebrow raised.
“I thought I was only taking one step?”
Steve grimaced sheepishly. Hesitation was clear in his expression, though his look of pride didn’t sway in the slightest.
“Yeah, I’m sorry,” he started, squeezing Tony’s hand tightly. “I took a couple of steps back when you were walking to me, but you were doing so well. I couldn’t help myself. I’m sorry.”
There was some part of Tony that knew he should be angry, but he was more shocked of the fact that he had walked into the middle of a swimming pool. Willingly. And that he was still standing in said swimming pool without spiralling out of control.
His shakes hadn’t subsided and he could feel his heart still racing in his chest, threatening to beat a hole through his rib cage, but he had done it and he was still on his feet. There was water swirling around him and he wasn’t drowning, wasn’t screaming and shouting as he thrashed and flailed.
His next move wasn’t planned and he hadn’t thought it all the way through when he suddenly surged forward and crushed his lips to Steve’s. Before Steve could respond, Tony pulled back.
There was silence as the two stood gazing into the other’s eyes, their fingers still twisted together and water gently swirling around their bare chests. All of a sudden, Steve smiled again, a slow and beautiful grin that lit up his whole face.
“Yeah?” Steve finally asked, words little more than a puff of air.
Tony licked his lips and nodded. “Yeah. Thank you.” He took a little pride in Steve’ dazed expression before he squeezed his hand. “Now, can I get out?”
#i wrote a thing#august in bloom#stony fic#stony fic rec#stevetony fic#stevetony fic rec#stony au#tony stark#steve rogers#tw: water#tony stark is scared of water#steve helps him but fair warning#you might think he helps wrong#stony fluff
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Fulfilled Geralt Whump Prompt:
"Omg can you please write a fic where Geralt is trying to appear normal when he’s feeling really sick and he inevitably throws up in front of jaskier and still tries to look like he’s okay and jaskier panics but does his best to look after Geralt who is still pretending he isn’t sick?"
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Jaskier woke up as Geralt thrashed in the bed beside him, turning himself over violently onto his side and mumbling something unintelligible as he wrapped his arms around himself. Jaskier pulled himself to a sitting position, letting the shared blanket pool around his waste. The sun was already well in the sky. It wasn't at all like Geralt not to wake him up far before the sun to get a head start on the day. Jaskier couldn't remember the last time they'd slept in.
"Hey," he said, putting a hand on Geralt's shoulder to wake him. Geralt jolted upwards, amber eyes bright in the still-dim room, entire body taught and strung tight with fear.
"Nightmare?" Jaskier asked, and he just offered a grunt in response.
"We need to go," he said, pushing himself the rest of the way upwards. "We've wasted daylight." Now that he was up, Jaskier could see the deep-set dark rings around his eyes, how purely pale and exhausted he looked.
"Are you okay, Geralt?" He asked, swinging his legs off the side of the bed, regretting having to pit his feet down on the cold floor. "We could stay here another day, if you don't have the coin I can foot it. Rest up proper and go out in the morning?"
"We have to leave now." He was already flinging things into bags and gathering everything up, acting as if the nightmare had never happened. There was something very off, Jaskier was sure, but he couldn't quite place it yet. He watched Geralt another moment and then sprung into action himself, tying their things up to Roach.
He followed along singing, as he always did. The niggling feeling of unease wasn't enough to stop him from that.
"Okay, Geralt. I need your opinion on a line. Should it start-"
"Jaskier."
Something in the tone stopped him. "Geralt?"
"Please. Can you be quiet. Just for once. For an hour, even." It wasn't harsh like it normally was when Geralt had finally had enough of the constant chatter. It was quiet and hollow and exhausted and Jaskier didn't like it. He looked up and was immediately alarmed at the way Geralt was sat on roach, half slumped forwards with his face pressed into her neck and an arm around her throat to keep himself on.
"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked.
Geralt heaved his body up straighter as if it were a heavy burdon and cast a glance back at Jaskier that was probably meant to be scathing but that came out hollow. "I'm fine. We need to pick up the pace. I'd like to be much further gone than we are." He pressed one hand to his eyes, rubbing harshly as if a headache had settled there.
They continued on like that for some time, Geralt drooping down onto his horse and then becoming aware of it and pulling himself upwards again. Jaskier was getting increasingly worried that he'd fall off altogether.
"Do you have an injury I'm not aware of?"
"No."
"Are you sick?"
"I don't get sick."
"That just seems like a falsehood."
Geralt tugged back on Roach's reigns, slowing her. Jaskier looked up, confused.
"Being that you keep asking, I assume you need to stop. We'll rest for an hour before we start up again."
They both knew that they weren't stopping for Jaskier, but Jaskier guessed that whatever would get the Witcher to rest for a moment was a good enough thing.
Geralt's legs wobbled as he dismounted and Jaskier lunged forwards to steady him. Geralt ignored the grasp, ignored the gesture entirely and sat down at the edge of the path, letting his head droop.
"I'd rather you tell me what was wrong than let yourself keel over." Jaskier said, sitting next to him. Geralt said nothing,
And the lack of continued denial was even worse than Geralt insisting he was fine. "You're shaking, Geralt." Jaskier hadn't noticed before, but Geralt was trembling all over. Geralt still said nothing. "You can't make it better by pretending that I'm not here, you know.
"Please, Jaskier. Leave me be." Geralt mumbled. Jaskier took it as a clue to absolutely not leave him be. He moved in closer. Geralt was pale, almost ashen. His breathing also seemed wrong, less the steady, even breaths you could time a metronome to and more harsh and short, breaths of pain. Jaskier reached out without being sure of his intent; checking for a fever or just laying a hand across his shoulder as he sat there looking so much smaller and more vulnerable than usual, hunched in on himself.
"Leave off!" He snapped, and then stood up on legs that still seemed as if they might dump him to the ground at any moment. He set off walking in what seemed like no particular direction except away from Jaskier and Jaskier was let him go to cool off (he knew when he'd gone too far; travelling with Geralt had taught him as much.) Geralt had made it maybe 30 paces away when he stopped still, posture reading stiff and uncomfortable and wrong, and Jaskier couldn't help but call out and then rush to him. Jaskier wasn't exactly panicking but he was certainly not liking the situation, either. He wished that for once Geralt would give him a clear and truthful answer.
Geralt pressed a hand out behind him, stopping Jaskier from coming closer than arm's length. His other arm was wrapped around a tree, bracing himself against the tremors that wracked him. Jaskier could see that his eyes were closed.
"We're not doing this, Geralt. You can play at being fine all you want once you're lying down and resting."
Geralt didn't answer. He lunged forwards without warning and retched, knuckles turning white around the tree he hung onto. Jaskier swore and caught him by the back of his tunic, trying to help keep him upright. He heaved again, emptying his stomach of the half-digested tavern food they'd had the night before. Jaskier put a hand on his back and his whole body shied away from the touch, almost an involuntary reaction. Even with nothing left in his system his body kept fighting against him and Jaskier really was beginning to be afraid. He swept Geralt's hair back and held it, and as the spasms finally subsided, Geralt nearly fell back into his arms.
"C'mon, we're setting up proper camp and we're laying you down and that's that." He snaked an arm around Gerslt's middle to lead himand Geralt, lacking the energy, allowed the touch.
"I'm alright, Jaskier."
"That is NOT alright. For once in your stubborn life could you let yourself be vulnerable and let someone take care of you?"
Geralt let out a shaky sigh. Jaskier half dragged him back to their camp and sat him down as he laid out their bed rolls.
"What is there that you're not telling me?" He asked Geralt half fell onto his bed roll and curled up into a ball.
"I think someone slipped something into my drink at the bar last night." He said after a long pause, as if deciding there was no skirting around it any longer.
"You think WHAT? Like poison?" Jaskier's blood turned to ice in his veins. He felt like throwing up himself.
"People have tried before. My body has a way of ridding it. Just be miserable for a while."
"And you weren't going to tell me?!"
"Didn't want to scare you." Geralt closed his eyes and swallowed thickly. Jaskier looked around for something he could be sick in if need be and found not much of anything.
"Well it didn't work. He sighed and pressed a hand to Geralt's forehead, finding no heat but a terrible clamminess. "Why would someone there want to poison you?"
"Not everyone is as accepting of what I am as you are, jaskier. Less mutants in town, the better, to some."
Jaskier had never felt so sure about killing another human being. In fact, he'd never really considered killing anyone before until now, but the murderous rage rose in him like a fire licking at his brain. He'd go back and burn the entire tavern to the ground if he had to. He'd-
He was interrupted by Geralt mumbling something about needing to be sick again and then doing so, just making it to lean away from their beds. Jaskier grabbed a water skin and held it to his lips, afraid that Geralt would otherwise spill it.
"And what good did hiding that you were unwell do you?" Jaskier didn't have it in him to scold very hard when Geralt looked so completely miserable. Geralt said nothing but there was the undertone of shame in showing weakness, of insecurity, of fear.
"Would tea help?"
"No."
"Would anything?"
"Letting my system purge it. Otherwise no."
Jaskier laid down next to Geralt and tugged him until he relented and rested his head on Jaskier's chest. Jaskier put one hand over his belly and started rubbing at the spent, sprung muscles there, leaving his other hand to card through Geralt's hair.
"Nobody is going to hurt you here. I'll take your sword and run them through myself. Parade around on roach with them like a skewer in case anyone else gets any bright ideas to follow"
The ghost of a smile flitted across Geralt's face and some of the ice in Jaskier's veins melted.
"Sleep, okay? I have you."
And Geralt slept.
#anon bless you for letting me have this bit if angst and whump#i really like hurting Geralt oof#prompt#the witcher#geralt x jaskier#geraskier#sickfic#whump#vomiting
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With All My Heart
Chapter Fourteen: I Won’t Let Go
Pearl could only watch in horror as Steven clung to Spinel, whose gem was still slowly splintering. Her mind was racing, trying to think of anything that might help this. Steven was still begging Spinel not to go through his tears while Pearl went back to the chest and searched it frantically. Maybe there was another rejuvenator in there. Maybe they could poof her again until they figured out what to do about this. Figure out why her Gem was cracking like this. It was hard to see through her panicked tears, but there was nothing of the sort inside the chest and Amethyst had broken the Rejuvenator they found before.
Pearl suddenly shot up, “K-Keep her going,” she shouted with frantic breaths, “Roses fountain! I’m going to get the water from her fountain! I—I—I’ll be back as quickly as I can!!” Pearl dashed from the room as fast as she could. If Steven couldn’t heal her Gem, this was the last option they had and she wasn’t just about to let Spinel shatter without doing everything she could.
Left alone in the Garden, Steven held Spinel tight against his chest. He too was trying to think of something, anything, to help Spinel. Part of him hoped that if he held her tight enough, it would keep her Gem together somehow. They didn’t even know why it was breaking like this and his healing powers were useless. What was the point of them if he couldn’t save her? He’d helped so many other people, why couldn’t he help her?
“Please…” Steven sobbed, “…why isn’t it working?!” He had heard Pearl leave and though he hoped the fountain water would work where he failed, he was scared that they wouldn’t have enough time. Pulling Spinel back, he tried again to heal her Gem. Maybe it wasn’t working because he was too upset. His power often fluctuated with his emotions after all. He took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm down, but when he looked down at Spinel’s face and her splintering gem, he couldn’t stop the tears or the panic that completely engulfed him.
“S-st-Steven. …Don’t—“ Spinel pleaded with a forced smile, unable to stop her own tears, but she wished she could stop his. After all, Spinel lived for his smile. It would be nice to see it in the end.
“Don’t what?!” Steven choked out, his right hand pressing against her Gem. “If I knew this was going to happen…I would have left you without your memories and just made you fall in love with me all over again…” he whispered through his tears.
Spinel placed her hand over his, “I think…that’s why…--th-this—ha—happened…”
“What do you mean?” asked Steven asked, unwilling to look away from her face, even if it continued to glitch in and out, every moment he could look into her eyes, he wanted to make sure he didn’t miss it.
“I think—I—think I—loved you too much. Thinking I couldn’t be with you---it—I think it broke---broke what was already broken.”
She wasn’t sure Steven would understand what she meant, but speaking made it even more difficult to keep her form steady. She didn’t want Steven to think this was his fault. It wasn’t. How could it have been? Still, maybe her Gem was breaking because she loved him. Didn’t humans often use that phrase? ‘Dying of a broken heart.’
“Then stop loving me,” pleaded Steven, “If it will fix this, I’ll do anything. I’ll love you enough for the both of us.”
“D-Don’t worry. I—I—I know you have always loved us—“
“Not like that!” Steven shouted, shaking his head, “Not like Garnet, Amethyst, or Pearl! You were never broken! …Loving someone you already care about…it just means that our friendship is stronger than anyone else’s. …I love you. You can’t leave me before I get the chance to tell you that more and more.”
Spinel gasped lightly, happy to hear that Steven loved her like she loved him. It even made her Gem glow a warm light, but it didn’t stop the fracturing. He’d told her he loved her all his life, but he just made it clear that this love wasn’t the same. She was over the moon to know this, it was just bad timing. If anything, it made her feel like her Gem was breaking even more. He loved her…and this was how they had to part?
“Spinel…p-please…I don’t know what to do…” Steven sobbed, taking his hand from her gem so that he could lean down and kiss it, his tears spilling over her gem and slipping into the cracks. Who could he ask for help? Who could he bargain with to keep her by his side? All he could do was to try as many times as possible to heal, praying to anyone that the next attempt would be the one to work. If just one worked just once, it would be worth it to try 100 times.
Until now, Spinel could think of nothing else but to accept this. She thought that if she had to shatter, being in Steven’s arms at the end would be the best way to do that. At least then she could see his face and feel his warmth one last time, but now, how could she possibly be okay with this? The worse her gem got, the closer she came to actually shattering, the more frightened she became. Would she really not ever get to feel this warmth again? She wanted to tell him she loved him too. More and more. She wanted to hear him say it more and more. “I—I don’t—know what to do either…” Spinel finally sobbed. All she knew was that she didn’t want Steven to let her go.
As Steven kissed her gem, the warm glow from it began to slowly heat up and get brighter. Steven pulled back, staring down with his bloodshot eyes, the light starting to hurt his eyes. Was she shattering? He’d never seen a Gem shatter before.
It was enough for him to panic, “Sp—“
“—Steven! I got the water!!” Pearl shouted desperately as she ran into the room with a large pale filled with pink liquid. She didn’t bother questioning the light or waiting for a response, instead, Pearl rushed to their side and poured the entire pale of water over Spinel’s gem. The light didn’t stop, Pearl and Steven both having to cover their eyes until the light faded completely and they were left with Spinel laying there in Steven’s arms, her gem fully healed, but her body completely soaked along with Steven’s lap.
All three of them were silent, each one afraid to speak, as if breaking the silence would ruin what had just happened. Pearl and Steven’s tears hadn’t stopped, but Spinel was no longer crying. At least, not until she looked down at her gem and then back up at Steven.
Tears welled in her eyes once again. She was okay. Her gem was shining like new. Whether it was the water or her finally fighting it, she didn’t know and it didn’t matter.
“Steven…Pearl…” Spinel began, finally breaking the careful silence. “I’m okay!”
Without any words, Steven and Pearl began to sob once again, both tackling Spinel and hugging her close. Each one so happy they practically laughed through their tears. Even though she was fine, it took a while for them to let her go. They had been so desperate and so scared; it was in fact a long while before any of them calmed down. After what felt like hours, the tears finally subsided and all three of them had separated, if only just a little. Steven was still had a hand around Spinel’s waist, simply refusing to let her go completely. A pleasant smile had returned to Pearls face as she sat on the ground with them. Reaching over, she took one of Spinel’s hands.
“Spinel…can you forgive me? …I wanted to protect you…but I’m afraid this mess…was entirely my fault. I didn’t mean to make you think you were wrong…or broken. I just…when you changed the first time…I…worried that you might—“ as Pearl apologized, Spinel raised her free hand to stop her.
“You didn’t cause this. I always felt…broken. I hated looking at myself and seeing what I’d changed into and it made me worry that you all saw me as broken as well. …but…now…” Spinel trailed off, glancing at Steven with a smile. She didn’t say it aloud, but when her gem got fixed, she probably could have changed back to her old appearance, but instead, Spinel decided to stay like this. After all, this was the appearance that Steven had fallen in love with. If Steven could love her like this, this form couldn’t be as distorted as she thought, right?
“You were always perfect,” Steven insisted, leaning in to plant several cheerful kisses along her cheek, overjoyed that she was still here in his arms.
Spinel blushed and Pearl glanced away awkwardly before clearing her throat a bit.
“And I-I’m glad you two are…affectionate with one another, but we should probably discuss some ground rules. After all, you are both quite young and haven’t been through—“
“—seriously?” Steven interrupted. “Is this really the time?”
Pearl sighed heavily, but she smiled anyway. “Okay. We can talk about it later,” she relented, just grateful this all worked out.
“…but uh, Pearl?” Steven started, a little embarrassed, “…I’m sorry about all the things I said before. I was…upset.”
Pearl didn’t want to bring it up, but it had been weighing on her mind. She hated thinking that Steven was upset with her or blamed her.
“I’m sorry too. I was scared…so I said things without thinking. ...come on, we should go out and tell the others that everything is okay. Amethyst is no doubt eating her own hair in worry.” Pearl joked a bit as she got to her feet.
Steven nodded and rose to his feet as well, lifting Spinel up along with him, carrying her bridal style as he turned for the door.
“St-Steven, I’m fixed now, I can walk on my own!” Spinel stammered bashfully as her cheeks began to burn.
“Nope,” Steven replied simply, carrying her out the door and out of the temple, greeted by a shocked and happy Lars and Amethyst.
“She’s okay!” Amethyst shouted happily, slapping Lars on the back in excitement, knocking the pink boy down onto the floor.
Lars groaned, “Why is it, that when good things happen for you guys, I’m the one that suffers?”
Amethyst smiled apologetically and helped Lars up by the arm as Steven carried Spinel over to them. Finally letting her down so that she could give Amethyst a hug, Pearl nearly crying again as she watched the happy scene.
Spinel turned to Lars now, a little embarrassed that he had seen her old self and that she had inconvenienced him. She knew that Lars often found her to be a little much.
“…thank you for finding me…and…for putting up with me so I could find my way back here…”
Lars smiled with a sigh, “I’m just glad you’re okay. Rutile will be glad too. She wasn’t so pleased with all the hugs for some reason.” He was just glad that Sadie was out of town for a concert while this happened. He didn’t want to have to explain it all to her.
“Still, you guys did a lot for me. So…thanks.” Spinel said again, stretching up a bit to kiss his cheek.
Lars’ pink hue got a little deeper around his cheeks when she kissed his skin. Though he wasn’t all that surprised when he felt Steven’s hand on his other cheek, shoving his face away from Spinel with what appeared to be a feigned smile. He was clearly angry.
“Yes, thank you, Lars.” Steven added, happy for his help, but still not over Spinel being so affectionate with him.
Spinel blushed lightly, secretly pleased that Steven was jealous.
Lars simply chuckled a bit and shrugged it off. After all they went through, this was small beans. He pat Steven’s shoulder, “Don’t overdo it now, Steven. I mean, she stretches, but you might actually break something.” Lars teased before heading for the door, eager to get back to his everyday routine.
It took Steven a moment or two, but when he figured out what Lars meant, his face turned completely red and he stared at the ground quickly. Now thanks to Lars, he had several new images in his head that he would never admit to having aloud.
“Well, we should all get some sleep. It’s been a really stressful day. I mean, I know I’m fried, so you two must be ready to keel over.” Amethyst said with a relieved smile, glancing at Spinel and Steven. More than anything, she was sure they would want to be alone for a little while. They probably had a lot to talk about.
“What’d you say, Pearl? Fancy a nap for a change? I make a pretty comfy pillow.”
Pearl blushed slightly, “Amethyst!” she huffed.
“Sleep does sound good,” Steven agreed, taking Spinel’s hand and leading her back towards the temple door.
“But Steven, your room is—“ Spinel started.
“Nope. We’re sleeping in the temple tonight,” he replied adamantly.
“Together? Is that a good—“ Pearl tried to protest.
“Yep,” was all Steven said in return as he and Spinel went through his temple door, letting it shut quickly behind them. Finally alone once again, Steven took both of Spinel’s hands in his and pulled her closer to him. “Last time we were in here together, you ran off before I woke up…” he said softly, placing his forehead against hers as she stared up at him with flushed cheeks. “…you can try again if you want, but this time, I’m not letting you go,” finished Steven with a loving smile.
#steven universe#stevinel#su#CG spinel#spinel#steven and spinel#pearl#with all my heart#su fanfic#stevinel fanfic#fanfic#chapter 11
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The Healer and the Dragon
CHAPTER 1
I land on my feet but have to grip the brick building beside me to stop myself from completely falling on my face. My best friend Darcy is standing beside me and she looks completely unfazed by the fact that we just passed through a portal. Something that is super dangerous and not practiced often. Me on the other hand am super weak and nauseous from just opening the portal. I can’t sense the nature around me. If I wasn’t so weak I might start panicking about the lack of nature. My legs wobble beneath me and I can no longer stand. I drop to my hands and knees. I don’t have a mirror but I am certain that my face is red and blotchy from the crying I did. Even though opening the portal has made me very weak I feel very pleased with myself for being able to concentrate with everything that happened.
Darcy puts one hand on my back and the other on my upper arm. “You alright?” I nod my head even though I am unsure. Darcy puts my right arm around her shoulders and her left arm around my waist. She struggles but she gets me standing upright. “Alright Evelyn I know you are weak right now but I need you to help me here,” Darcy says struggling to keep me upright. “If any one were to see us they would suspect that we are up to something and I would rather not draw a lot attention to us right now.” I straighten up. “There is a bed and breakfast over there can you make it.” I nod my head even though I’m still unsure.
I loop my arm through Darcy’s and I take most of my weight so we can walk normally. Because I’m so weak we don’t move very quickly but after a few minutes we reach the front door of the bed and breakfast. As we walk in we are greeted with a stair case that leads to the second floor. We walk through the archway that leads into the lobby of the building. I sit in one of the Queen Anne chairs sitting in the lobby while Darcy talks to the woman who watched us walk in.
The lobby of this bed and breakfast was basically deserted but for the two of us and the one lady sitting behind a makeshift counter set a few feet from where I am now. There is a fireplace in front of me. Because it is the middle of November, the fire is lit. I didn’t even realize how cold I actually was until the fire started to thaw me. Behind the little lobby area is a door that leads to a big wrap around porch on the back of the house. The leaves outside are starting to turn that golden brown. When I was little seeing the leaves this way always excited me because I knew that my birthday was only weeks away.
I see tissues on the circular table that sits between the two chairs in front of the fireplace. and I grab one to wipe the tears from my face. My head is starting to pound. I bend over and place my head on my knees. My long blonde hair falls like a curtain around my face. Even though we only left home a few minutes ago it seems like hours have passed. I close my eyes tightly trying to force the pounding in my head to subside.
A hand rubs my back and I jump. “Sorry,” Darcy says. “Come on we have a room.” The woman who was sitting behind the counter is now standing in the archway that we entered through. I stand up and follow her and Darcy up the dark wood staircase. The woman is older probably in her forties. She has her red tinted hair in a bun at the base of her scalp. She is wearing a floral blouse and black slacks. She stops at the last door to the left of the stair case.
She hands Darcy the key and starts into what time check out is and when breakfast will be. I ignore her and take in my surroundings. I forgot how different Earth is compared to Magicus. A beautiful chandelier hangs over the forum where we first came in. I hadn’t noticed when we first got here but from the second floor I can see it. There is a window across the way from the chandelier and the crystal sparkles when the sun shines in. The upstairs is decorated just like the downstairs. Across the way from our door is a mirror. Our room is isolated from the rest of the Inn. There isn’t another door on this side of the hall. I wonder if the woman did this on purpose because we are acting strange or if Darcy requested it.
After the woman finishes her monologue, she leaves us be and Darcy opens the door. The room is bigger than I expected. I walk in to find another fireplace to the right of the door but this one is electric unlike the one in the lobby. Two chairs are sat along the wall next to the fire place with a door that I’m assuming leads to the bathroom. A foot from the bathroom door sits a grand oak bed. The wood is stained darker to match the rest of the décor of the Inn. On the wall across from the bed is a dresser with a TV sitting on top of it. And on the wall opposite the entrance is a giant window. I can see the sun is slowing starting to disappear behind clouds.
“Alright I want you to stay here,” Darcy says walking into the room. She closes the door behind her but doesn’t take a step further. “I’m going to go buy us some new clothes along with hair dye and scissors.”
I’m too exhausted to argue with her. I climb onto the soft bed and hug one of the cream colored pillows to my chest. Darcy’s face softens and she comes to sit beside me. “He’s actually gone,” I say through my new coming tears.
“I’m sorry sweetie.” She puts her arms around me. “But he did it to protect you.”
“I should have died!” Tears fall faster down my face.
“Evelyn you are the last of your kind. Garden-fairies were always our protectors. When we thought all of them were gone our society panicked. We need to keep you safe until you are strong enough to fight.” I don’t fight her. I am too weak and too sad to do so. She gives my shoulders a squeeze and then leaves me alone.
I lay down on the bed and close my eyes. Darcy and I met right after I arrived at Luxington High. Luxington is a school in the realm of Magicus. It is a school to study light magic. I moved to this realm after I turned sixteen and I found out what I was.
My great-grandmother was the only Garden-fairy to survive the massacre back in the 20’s. When she was nineteen, the fairies who wanted garden-fairy power attacked the Garden-fairies. Garden-fairies are like royalty in Magicus. They are some of the most powerful beings in the realm. But the dark fairies were able to get the upper hand over the Garden-fairies because they were not expecting it. Because of Garden-fairies’ peaceful nature they didn’t know how to fight back.
My great-grandmother passed away when I was thirteen and when I was sixteen her daughter, my grandmother, told me the story of my ancestors. How they kept peace in the realm of magic for hundreds of years. Three days after my sixteenth birthday, Divo Justice, the headmaster of Luxington High, came to visit me. I then went with him in secret to study magic. That is where I met Darcy. She and I were forced to be friends in a way. Headmaster Justice put us in the same room in the dorms. Plus, she was the only one out of the entire student body to know who I was. After finishing high school majority of the school knew my true identity.
I must have cried myself to sleep because when I open my eyes again Darcy is sitting on the edge of the bed. Her fire red hair is now dark brown and in a pixie cut. I reach up and touch the ends of her hair. “You cut your hair,” I say. She gives me a sad smile.
“I didn’t really want to but I figure that it will grow back eventually so I took one for the team. Come on we need to dye your hair now and if you want me to cut it I can.” I stand up and my knees wobble beneath me. I sit back down on the bed. Darcy gives me a concerned look but when I stand the second time I feel a lot stronger.
I walk into the bathroom and I see dark brown hair dye. I sit on the side of the tub and Darcy gets to work on my hair. For me, she only trims the hair so it lands about three inches below my shoulders. Then she dyes my hair dark brown the same color as her hair. I know that it will be safer for us if they cannot recognize us by the color of our hair but it still makes me sad to see the blonde disappearing. It was the last piece of my great-grandmother that I had with me. All of my belongings are still in my apartment in Magicus.
“You’re done,” Darcy says to me. I stand up from the edge of the tub and take a long look in the mirror. My dark hair makes my blue-green eyes look brighter. Darcy gives me a hug. “It’ll be hard to get used to but I promise it will get better.” I give her a small smile.
We go back into the bedroom. Darcy has new clothes laid out on the bed next to where I was laying. It’s just plain blue jeans and a sweatshirt with the name of a college from the area. We can pass as college students on Earth. I take them and go back into the bathroom to change into them. It is so weird to be back on Earth after not being here for five years.
I come back into the room and Darcy is trying to get the T.V. to turn on. In Magicus the T.V. comes on with just a flick of your wrist. Like I said. Magicus is a lot different than Earth is. I stand next to the nightstand while watching Darcy struggle. She hasn’t noticed that I came back into the room yet. She curses under her breath before trying again. At this point I press the power button on the remote sitting on the nightstand. She lets out a relieved sigh. I can’t contain it anymore. I giggle at her expense. She spins around quickly and notices the remote in my hand.
“I didn’t do anything did I,” she says sheepishly. I giggle and shake my head.
“I’m sorry, but TVs on Earth are a little easier to work then the ones on Magicus. Remember how long it took me to get the hang of the one in our dorm room when I first came to Luxington.”
Darcy starts giggling too. “Oh yeah, what was it a week before you got it?”
“More like a month,” I giggle. “Is there something specific you wanted to watch?”
“I wanted to see if they might be monitoring who is coming into their world.”
“Earth is very different from Magicus, Darcy. The only people who know we are here are the ones who saw us on the street and even they don’t realize that we are different. Even our old clothes look like every day Earthan clothes.”
“So we won’t be caught being here?”
“No and that also means if whoever attacked us back in Magicus comes to Earth we’ll never know if they are here either.” Darcy lets out an aggravated sound. And flops into the chair next to the window. She pulls out the laptop that she had in her backpack when we were attacked. The only reasons she was able to bring it is because it was with her when we left. I lay on my stomach on the bed and watch the news. I keep wondering where we are. The woman at the front desk has an American accent so I know that more than likely we are in America. When they show the map for the weather it is revealed to me that we are in New York. I’m still not sure the name of the town. But I grew up in New York and the thought of just being in the same state that I was born in makes me excited. I turn my attention back to the news hoping they would soon name the town. Rain showers are coming into the area this evening but still no specific town is mentioned.
The only thing useful this weather station is giving me is the fact that rain is coming which I can already tell. My sense of nature returned after I rested. “Darcy rain is coming in tonight,” I say.
She looks up from her laptop to look at the TV. “At least one thing is on our side.” She then goes back to the laptop. The rain should wash away any trace of us off the street.
In Magicus there are creatures that look like dogs but have a keener sense of smell. If brought here, they could sniff us out in a heartbeat. They wouldn’t even need to sniff anything that belonged to us. We don’t smell like Earthans do. They would be able to figure out our scent is different.
Bored of the news and frustrated I’m still not sure where we are, I flip through the stations to find something else on the television. There isn’t anything extremely interesting on at four o’clock in the afternoon, so I flip to a random sitcom that I have never heard of and I lay my head down on my arm. I hear Darcy gasp and I sit up on my hands. “What is it?”
“If this is correct an hour after we left Magicus two other people left as well.” I gulp.
“Could it be whoever attacked us?”
Darcy looks up from the screen. “Not necessarily but I still want to take precautions. They exited through one of the trains. Which means they would have to of gone through security to leave the world. If they attacked us they more than likely wouldn’t have gone through all the trouble of security to find us again. They would have tried to open a portal.”
“Would they be strong enough to even open a portal?”
Darcy shrugs her shoulders. “If someone studied dark magic they could possibly be trained in opening portals. I’m not sure though. More than likely this was just a tourist. Because Earth doesn’t monitor who comes in or out of their world I can’t tell if the train they are on arrived here or a different realm.”
“So as long as we are careful we should be fine,” I say. Darcy nods her head. “Hey Darce, could you possible pull up our coordinates so I can know what town we are in?”
“Yeah of course.” She types something into the laptop and waits for it to process. “We are in some place called Ellicottville, New York. Do You know where that is?”
I feel excitement stir in the pit of my stomach. “My great-grandmother settled here after she met my great-grandfather. I was born and raised in Buffalo, New York which is about an hour from here.” I hesitate and then add, “it doesn’t have to be at the top of our priorities but I haven’t seen my dad or brothers since Headmaster Justice came and brought me to Luxington. Do you think that maybe we could go see them?”
“I’m not sure if that is safe or not. I’m only thinking of the safety of your family members. If whoever attacked us is watching us they could attack while we are visiting and they could end up like…” Darcy doesn’t say anymore. She got her point across regardless.
Leo was a guy I fell in love with my second year at Luxington. He was extremely athletic. He did every sport that was offered through the school. But he was also smart. Leo was amazing at math and I had to get him to tutor me for a while. Luxington was not an all magic school. It taught mathematics and literature just like any high school on Earth. He and I became very close while he tutored me. So close that I ended up coming to every single game or match that he had. When I was a senior, he asked me to be is girlfriend. We had been together for two years now.
When we were attacked, I was going to meet Leo for lunch. Even though I graduated on time I still had to take classes to make up for the lost years before I came to Luxington. I was getting out of class an hour earlier than usual so I promised to meet Leo for lunch. As I was walking across the street to meet him, that’s when we were attacked. Darcy just so happened to work at the café we were supposed to be going to so she was there to get me away to safety.
Before I could start crying again, I focus on the sitcom I still had on the TV. I ignore the rest of the world and focus on just the characters. Every time one of the characters would kiss another one I would flinch.
Around seven, Darcy calls for pizza delivery. It arrives and we eat in silence as we continue to watch the nonsense on the TV. After a while I turn back to the news hoping that we could more information about the weather that’s coming.
Lightning flashes across the sky notifying us the rain has arrived. Not a minute passes before the heavens open and the rain falls. It is heavy. I can hear the rain on the roof. I look at the time on the clock beside the bed. It reads nine-thirty. I look through the clothes that Darcy brought back for us. I find a pair of cotton shorts and a plain grey t-shirt. I change in the bathroom and crawl under the covers. The exhaustion from the day consumes me as soon as I am under the warm comforter. It takes seconds for me to drift off to sleep.
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Smoke and Mirrors
Word Count: 8.5K words
Chapter 15 - Ron IV: Australia Magizoo (link to full story on FF.net)
Featuring: Ron Weasley & Hermione Granger
Warnings: Explicit sexual content. 18+/Rated R.
Author’s Notes: At the time of writing this was pretty much the longest chapter I’d ever written. I’ve read a lot of fluff/sex scenes in fanfic over the years, some good, some bad, some ugly, so whilst writing my first proper long-running fic I was somewhat hesitant about including it. I didn’t want to have it just in there for the sake of it, but if I could find a scene or chapter where I felt like it would work well for the story and the arc of, in this case Ron’s story, then I thought I would throw it in. The cool thing about this chapter I felt was playing around with subverting people’s expectations upon reading at the start, then have it go full circle towards the end of the chapter. It’s probably not the best chapter I’ve ever written, but it was one of the more entertaining ones to actually write.
A warm breeze brushed across Ron’s face, as he felt his fringe pushed to the left hand side of his face by the summery wind.
He leaned forward casually on the white marble railing towards the end of their hotel balcony, wearing just his sky-blue swimming trunks, whilst he watched the stunning sunset taking place across the scenic artificial beach that lay not far from their room.
Ron was not quite sure what kind of magic the Australians were using to conjure up such a relaxing ambience, but he was very impressed by it all the same.
There were entire geo-magical landscapes and weather-enchantment spells surrounding the inner walls of the hotel, which were all very carefully adapted for the preferences of different guests. Their part of the hotel had a tropical theme, equipped with a synthetic summer climate, palm trees and a beautiful beach, with the clearest of seas that one could imagine.
The hotel’s colossal size was such that Ron and Hermione had not managed to venture out to any of the other geo-magical landscapes yet. However, Ron read in the glossy brochure (entirely devoid of any magical moving images in full faux-muggle style) that there was also a secluded woodland retreat theme for lovers of nature, as well as a winter wonderland, equipped with a massive mountain for skiing - and there was even a newly built and increasingly popular section entirely based on muggle Britain’s royal heritage.
Brad hadn’t been joking when he’d said that Wizarding tourism was booming in Australia – and they were even taking advantage of people’s reluctance and fear to travel to Britain too. Ron wondered how long they would be able to capitalise on that particular niche, as Kingsley’s new government was hopefully going to help usher in a new era of peace and prosperity in the coming months and years.
“Ronald!”
Ron heard Hermione’s faint call of his name, which was barely audible above the gentle whirl of the simmering bubbles in their enormous en-suite hot-tub.
He stared down into the bubbles for a brief moment.
There was something about the water that did not look quite right, but he could not put his finger on what it was that was off about it.
He was, for a brief moment, utterly mesmerised by the relentless pulse of the bubbles and he very nearly hurled himself into the warm and inviting water, but then thought better of it.
“Ronald! Oh do hurry up, it’s urgent!”
There was a more frantic tone to his girlfriend’s call this time – and it was much louder too.
Perhaps she had received word that they had found her parents.
He paced quickly across the paved floor of their balcony and back into the room to see what it was that she wanted and… and…
Hermione was laying on her back, facing the balcony door… but her eyes were closed.
Ron looked at her in complete shock.
He couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.
She was completely naked, except for a black lace bra that slightly covered her small, firm breasts.
Her eyes were closed, but not in a state of sleep – no, quite the opposite in-fact, they were closed in a state of pure pleasure, as, with the fingers of her right hand, she softly played with herself.
Ron felt his cock harden slightly and it began to bulge in his swimming trunks as he watched her caressing her completely shaved cunt.
Hermione opened her dark, brown eyes and she grinned devilishly as they met his own.
She bit her lip slightly and motioned with her spare left hand for him to join her on the bed, whilst she continued to masturbate with her favoured right.
Ron could not quite believe his luck and momentarily paused in panic.
He had been dreaming of this moment for months, or years really.
He had secretly hoped once it was confirmed that Harry was no longer coming with them to Australia that this moment might somehow present itself, but to have it fall into his lap this way really was like a dream come true.
Ron excitedly pulled down his trunks and discarded them to the floor, letting Hermione have her first look at his now fully erect penis, which burst out from a bushy bed of red pubic hair.
“Oh fuck,” Hermione moaned, as she bit her lip once more and began playing with herself with increased vigour.
Ron had never heard her say fuck before.
It didn’t sound quite right coming out of her pure, pretty mouth, but it turned him on and made his cock swell up even more, as he began to pull himself onto the bed towards her.
“Quickly Ron,” she sighed desperately, as he clamoured towards her gorgeous naked body. “I need you inside me… please… I’ve been waiting so long for you to finally fuck me!”
Ron began to slowly pull his bulging dick towards her tight, wet vagina.
This was it.
The moment of truth.
The moment he had waited so long for.
He thrust his cock towards her, but just as he was about to enter her everything went black and faded away.
Ron woke up in a panicked, nervous sweat, breathing heavily as he came to terms with the fact he had just been dreaming.
His arms were clutched around Hermione’s waist, with the pair having slept cradled together in their pyjamas in the lightly air-conditioned room.
He felt Hermione stir slightly – and, to his absolute horror, he discovered that the erect penis part of his dream had in fact been based on reality.
His crotch was positioned in such a way that his bulging erection, which was pressing mercilessly into his pyjama bottoms, was also pressing mercilessly into Hermione’s bottom.
He thought that there was no way that she could not feel it.
Ron adjusted the positioning of his thighs slightly so that he was no longer making direct contact with her with his lower body, but just as soon as he had done that she had wriggled herself backwards a bit, which meant his cock was now pushed up against the back of one of her thighs instead.
He wriggled slightly to get away from her again, but after a few moments she once again moved back towards him, inadvertently nudging his hard-on in the process.
It was almost as if she was doing it deliberately, but she was still half-asleep and probably hadn’t even noticed what was happening.
Ron lay awake in their king-sized bed still spooning Hermione for another ten minutes, with it gradually becoming less awkward as his erection slowly subsided.
It soon became apparent though that he would not fall back to sleep any time soon, so he relented and decided to get up and shower
.
The hotel bathroom was state-of-the-art, even by muggle standards according to Hermione – and it was all very impressive, with the hot water jets blasting against his fair-skin soon ensuring that he was fully awake and energised.
Ron spent a considerable amount of time in the shower, as once he had fully washed his hair and body he slowly lathered himself up once again and masturbated, thinking of the naked Hermione from his dream as he relieved himself and eventually climaxed.
It took several minutes to ensure the last of his cum had trickled down the drain… then, just as the last of it was washing away there was a knock on the bathroom door.
He ignored the knock as he meticulously watched the final traces of his semen slide out of sight.
There was another knock on the door, but this time it was a fair bit louder.
“Ronald! Are you alright? You’ve been absolutely ages in there!” Hermione remarked, with a slight sound of worry in her sleepy sounding voice.
Ron quickly wrapped himself in a towel and in a slightly panicked fluster he opened the door.
“I’m fine,” he said. “Just enjoying myself in the shower,” he blurted out.
“Oh, I see-
“Enjoying myself because it’s bloody brilliant!” he quickly added. “I mean, as shower’s go, its right up there… it’s really good… wakes you right up… you should try it!”
“Right, yes… well, I will have to, when I have a wash myself…” she replied, perhaps a bit confused at his feigned enthusiasm for the shower. “I was just a little worried that’s all, I know, I was just being a bit silly, but you don’t usually take that long and you locked the door and…
“You’d get used to locking bathroom doors too if you grew up living in a house with Fred and George!” he replied softly, with what he thought was a well-timed save, as he remembered the countless times that his older twin brothers had tormented him and caused many a toilet-related mishap, which were now nothing more than bittersweet memories.
“Yes, of course,” Hermione retorted. “And I know you would never wish for me to intrude or invade your privacy-
Ron momentarily considered correcting her on this point, as, on the contrary, he would’ve loved nothing more than for her to walk in on him naked, but he swiftly decided against it.
“I suppose what I’m trying to say is that I just wanted to make sure that you were alright,” she said, as she blushed slightly.
“As always I appreciate your concern,” he joked, before leaning forward and kissing her on the lips, which caused his soaking wet hair to press right up against her dry, bushy mane.
She was slightly taken aback at first, but then soon pressed her lips back to his – and she even briefly parted them, to allow him to slip his tongue into her mouth, before she reached back and broke free.
“Oh and can you believe this?” she demanded, instantly killing the moment, as she then reached down towards the bed and picked up their daily newspaper, which must have been delivered whilst he was washing.
It was The Sydney Spell, which seemed to be the Australian equivalent of The Daily Prophet.
“CROOKED KRUM SEIZED AS MATCH-FIXING SCANDAL ROCKS THE QUIDDITCH WORLD!” read the headline, which was accompanied by an animated picture of Viktor Krum catching the snitch in the World Cup final they’d seen live all those years ago, before the Death Eaters had wreaked havoc on the camp-site.
“Bloody hell!” Ron exclaimed.
“My thoughts exactly,” Hermione added in a glum tone. “You’re obviously a lot more clued up on the nuances of a Quidditch match than I am…” she added, as Ron reflected on whether this was the first time she had ever admitted that he was more clued up on something.
“You watched that match… do you really think it’s possible that it was fixed?” she asked.
“Well… I dunno,” he began, as he thought back to it. “I mean, it was a little odd that he caught the snitch in a losing position, but it does happen… it’s a very fast-paced sport so he could well have missed something or thought the score was closer than it actually was… and… well, Quidditch players aren’t exactly renowned for being the most intelligent of people -
“You know full well that Viktor is not stupid!” she hissed slightly.
“Well… no,” he conceded. “But if I remember rightly both Krum and Lynch spotted the snitch at the same time, so if Krum hadn’t have caught it when he did then they would’ve still lost anyway, just by an even bigger margin.”
“Yes, that’s what I thought,” Hermione replied, deep in contemplation. “Although Krum was, or rather, still is considered one of, if not the greatest seeker of his generation, is he not?”
Ron felt a slight flush of jealously at hearing her talk about Krum with such high regard.
“Well… I mean, some would argue that to be considered the greatest seeker of a generation you would have to win a World Cup, which Krum has never-
“If not the greatest, then one of the greatest then?” she sternly replied.
“Yes, one of the greatest, of course,” he quickly conceded.
“Then wouldn’t one of the greatest seekers of his generation always be aware of what the current score was? And wouldn’t one of the greatest seekers of his generation do everything that was physically possible to avoid catching the snitch until he was absolutely sure it would win his country the World Cup?” she asked rhetorically, perhaps now questioning herself more than Ron.
“I… I suppose-
“Think back to our 3rd year… the final game of the season against Slytherin, when Harry caught the snitch to win the House Cup,” she said, once more deep in thought.
“Oh yeah – that was brilliant!” Ron exclaimed, as he remembered the moment Harry had captured the little golden-snitch with both hands off of his broom.
“Think harder!” Hermione urged. “You remember, don’t you? Gryffindor had to win the game by at least 210 points, otherwise Slytherin would have still won the Cup on point’s difference.”
“Yeah… yeah I do remember, of course,” Ron said, as he thought he began to grasp what she was getting at.
“Wood drilled it into Harry for ages… whatever you do, Harry, do not catch the snitch whilst it is mathematically impossible for Gryffindor to win the Cup. You do remember that, yes?” she demanded.
“Yes… yes of course I remember. So what are you saying then? You actually think that this stuff about Krum is true? That he really did agree to throw the final?” he asked, slightly bewildered at what she seemed to be insinuating.
“No. Of course not!” Hermione snapped back.
Ron was completely lost now.
“But I thought you were saying-
“I don’t think for one moment that Viktor agreed to throw the match. His professional pride, desire to win and love for his country would prevent him from doing that,” she said solemnly. “However, I do think there’s a very good chance that it was fixed and that somebody may have been controlling him... but who… how… and to what end?”
Australia Magizoo really was quite something.
Their day had begun with an extremely filling breakfast that could’ve possibly put even Hogwarts to shame, as Ron loaded up on copious amounts of poached eggs, bacon and sausages.
Hermione had settled for a few freshly made French pastries and a slice of toast with something called Vegemite spread onto it. Ron was not sure what exactly Vegemite was, but it had an awful smell to it and did not look up to too much cop either – his girlfriend reassuring him that it was just a type of yeast extract did not particularly sell it either. It looked like it had been scooped out of the bottom of a cup in one of Professor Trelawney’s tea-reading classes.
Following their stomachs being filled by their respective breakfasts, they had spent nearly the entire day exploring the gigantic grounds of Woollahra’s wizarding tourist attraction – and Ron could see why it was such an attraction.
The park was filled with almost every creature that you could possibly name, with a large section even being dedicated to housing non-magical creatures of interest too - such as lions, giraffes and even wild polar bears in a sub-zero arctic section!
A lot of the magizoo’s star attractions were dedicated to beasts that Ron and Hermione had been fortunate (or unfortunate) enough to encounter before. He had never really considered how lucky they’d actually been over the last seven years, at least in terms of seeing such a wide array of creatures.
Children and adults alike were crowding round for a glimpse of a phoenix in the flesh, which Ron shrugged off as nothing too exciting, as he’d seen Dumbledore’s one countless times before in their former headmaster’s office– and he’d even been flown out of the Chamber of Secrets by it in second year.
They balked at a massive queue that had formed for rides on the thestrals, with many lucky adults and children very excited at the prospect of riding on a beast that was invisible to them. Hermione read on a sign that outside of Britain the wild populations of thestrals were dwindling quite a lot, so for many non-Brits this would be their first and possibly only chance to ever see, or indeed, not see a thestral, which any British student would obviously just take for granted - they were even used as a mode of transport at Hogwarts!
If they had thought that the queue for the thestrals was large then that paled in comparison to the one for the hippogriffs, as everyone longed to receive a bow from one of the delightful, but deadly part-horse, part-eagle creatures. They did not linger there too long, as again, unlike much of the world’s population they had also had their fair share of experiences with hippogriffs.
The next portion of the park following the hippogriffs was dedicated to the world’s deadliest beasts – and after Ron hastily hurried Hermione away from the acromantulas, they spent a while looking at the magnificent Antipodean Opaleye dragon. The purple dragon was a New Zealand-native and as such, one of the more locally sourced creatures in the entire magizoo, although they soon noticed that the next part of the tour was actually dedicated entirely to the magical creatures of Australia.
At first they were introduced to the bunyips which were based in a large swamp. They were peculiar creatures, with big tusks, flippers for feet and large bushy tails. A sign near them spoke of how over the years there had been several infamous incidents where rogue bunyips had got loose and attacked muggles, with the beasts coming out at night in the cover of darkness to attack small children, women or defenceless household pets.
One of the world’s last living muldjewangk was housed in a lake not far from the bunyips. The muldjewangk, who did not surface whilst they were at the lake, were described as kind of like a cross between giant squid and merpeople.
It was said that in centuries gone by hordes of muldjewangk terrorised muggle fisherman all over the Indian Ocean, but in the last hundred years they had become an endangered species thanks partially to pollution in muggle waters, but mostly due to wizarding-poachers hunting them for their teeth and blood, with both apparently fetching a pretty penny due to their rarity and variety of uses.
It was just as they were walking away from the lake, somewhat disappointed at not glimpsing a sight of the muldjewangk, that they bumped into Tezza, who was the porter that had taken their bags upon arrival and asked about You Know Who’s nose. It seemed that Tezza performed an array of roles at the hotel, one of which also seemingly involved working with the creatures themselves.
“Alright guys?!” he chirped excitedly when he spotted them, as they said hello and made some small talk.
“Didn’t get to see the muldjewangk? Don’t be too down guys, they don’t like coming out during the day much anyways. The kids here are always devo at missing out like, but let me show you some little buggers that I think you’ll both be stoked on seeing.”
They followed Tezza over to some large gum trees, which had magical protections placed just in-front of them, indicating how dangerous whatever beasts they housed must be.
“Now these little ones might look cute, but trust me, they’re fierce little bastards especially if they’re after a bit of grub,” he said, as he pointed to what looked like a tiny little bear climbing the tree nearest to them.
“Isn’t that a koala bear?” a confused Hermione asked, as Tezza burst out laughing.
“They might look like koalas, but take a look for yourself,” Tezza said, before waving his wand and erecting a human-like mannequin on the ground about 10 metres directly below the creature. It noticed and after a brief second of contemplation it instantly threw itself down through the sky, claws first, soon landing on the head of the mannequin, tearing it apart with both its paws and teeth.
“Bloody hell!” Ron swore.
“You can say that again, mate!” Tezza replied. “That little bugger is called a drop bear and well… it lives up to its name,” he added, as the little beast tore furiously at the prop, before Tezza conjured it up a few dead rats for it to feast on instead as a treat for its part in the show.
“Do they mind being here… at the magizoo… with all these people ogling at them?” Hermione asked Tezza.
“The drop bears?”
Ron felt a little awkward as he guessed the train of thought and line of questioning that his girlfriend would have for Tezza.
“Yes, the drop bears, but, well, all of the creatures and beasts you house here really. Do they like it here… rather than being in the wild?”
“To tell you the truth Miss Granger,” Tezza said, as he paused for a brief moment before continuing. ”For most of them now there ain’t no wild no more anyway... what with all the poachers like, and it ain’t as easy as it was years ago keeping ‘em away from exposure to muggoes neither. It’s the same way most the muggo animals are going too. Woollahra’s the best place for ‘em I say.”
Hermione seemed content enough with Tezza’s response, although Tezza was hardly going to turn round and admit the creatures all hated it there if they did anyway.
The magizoo worker began guiding them away from the drop bear enclosure and further along to a stretch of grassland in the distance.
“Course, we don’t house any beasts that are sentient,” Tezza continued, as Hermione nodded along in approval. “You won’t find no centaurs, vampires or werewolves here… ‘tho all the guests would be clamouring to see ‘em if they were, as you can imagine, like.
Fancy that ehh? Seeing an actual centaur or werewolf in the flesh, now that would be proper gnarly!”
Ron was once more left feeling a bit spoilt by his education.
He couldn’t quite believe that Tezza had never seen a werewolf or centaur in the flesh, at Hogwarts they’d had a werewolf and a centaur among the faculty at varying intervals of his stint at school.
“What about house elves?” Ron asked nervously, as he stole a quick glance at Hermione, who looked even more interested in Tezza’s response to the latest question posed to him, as they walked past a giant, yellow warning sign that read:
“CAUTION: YOU ARE NOW APPROACHING THE YARA-MA-YHA-WHO ENCLOSURE. THIS BEAST IS EXTREMELY DANGEROUS! DO NOT ENGAGE IT IF IT ESCAPES! CHILDREN UNDER THE AGE OF 15 MUST BE ACCOMPANIED BY A RESPONSIBLE PARENT OR GUARDIAN!”
“You certainly won’t find no house-elves here!” Tezza said in a slightly bemused tone. “Not working for us anyway… course we get lots of rich families from America, India and France come and visit who bring theirs along for the trip… ya’ kno’, funny thing is I’d never even seen one in the flesh before I started working here myself!”
“Why is that?” Hermione asked. “Are house-elves against the law in Australia?” she added, with a hopeful tone in her voice.
Tezza audibly chuckled.
“Against the law? We’d have to bloody have some for ‘em to be illegal! Never really caught on down here since nobody could bloody afford one. I’m sure whoever cooked up the idea for this place could have their pick of them now though, like, you know I-
“WHAT’S THAT?!” Ron burst out, as Hermione instinctively grabbed his hand, as she too saw a giant bear-like creature waddling towards them.
It was just their luck.
The one time they visit the magizoo was the time that the extremely dangerous creature broke out.
Why was it always them?!
At least Tezza would know what to do.
He didn’t look in the slightest bit afraid, which reassured Ron that he must know how to handle the very dangerous looking beast heading towards them.
“What’s what?” a bemused looking Ted asked them, as Hermione and Ron both drew their wands, which confused him even more.
“Over there!” Hermione gasped, as she pointed over to the furry giant which was getting closer to them, albeit at a fairly slow pace.
“HA-HA! You can’t mean… oh you think that silly bugger is the dangerous beast that sign was warning yous about?” he asked with a patronising look on his tanned face, as Ron nodded awkwardly.
“HA-HA! You wait until all of the lads hear about this one!” he blurted out, with a furious grin washed across his face. “Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger frightened off their rocker by a silly old yowie! COME HERE YA BIG WALKING CARPET!” Tezza shouted, as the yowie responded to his call and quickened his pace, although only slightly.
“They’re clever creatures, yowie’s, but they’re bloody pussies. Wouldn’t hurt a mozza, even if it was biting on one of their balls!” Tezza joked, as he stretched his arms out for the yowie to give him a hug.
The yowie towered over him, it must’ve been at least seven foot, but he showed no fear when it barked softly and wrapped its furry arms right round his thin-frame, almost lifting him off of the ground with enthusiasm as it hugged him.
“We call him Chewy,” Tezza said excitedly, as the yowie released him. “You know, like the wookie from Star Wars.”
“What’s Star Wars?” Ron asked blankly.
“Only one of the greatest bloody movies of all time, mate!” Tezza replied indignantly.
“I’ve never watched any movies,” Ron responded.
“You ain’t ever seen a single movie in ya’ life?”
Tezza looked in a state of shock, perhaps he was a half-blood or a muggle-born and had grown up with the muggle television.
Ron shook his head in response.
“Blimey. Where did you find this guy?!” Tezza quizzed Hermione.
“It’s kind of a long story,” she replied, before smirking a little at both Tezza and then Ron himself.
“Now you run along now Chewy,” Tezza ordered to the yowie. “Shouldn’t be out here near the yara-ma-yha-who anyway you daft git,” he added, as he poked his bear-like companion. The yowie obeyed, sauntering off in the opposite direction after uttering what sounded like it could only be a laugh at Tezza.
“Oh my goodness,” Hermione mouthed, seemingly noticing something in the distance. “Is that… is that…
“Too right-o, Miss Granger,” Tezza replied. “That is a yara-ma-yha who.”
Ron saw it out of the corner of his eye, rested on a similar tree to the one that the drop bear had been grasping to before it flew out of the sky.
The yara-ma-yha-who was a slightly slimy, amphibious looking red creature that can’t have been much bigger than the average goblin.
Its dark blood-red body resembled a frightening cross between a frog, an octopus and a common garden gnome.
It was truly hideous.
It hung to the tree by its tiny red hands, but it also had thin, slippery suckers on the rear of its body which it used to swing around the tree too, almost like a monkey would do with its tail.
“That little bugger is damn-near the most deadly beast in this entire magizoo. If I had to face the dragon or that thing without a wand – I’d choose the dragon every bloody time… you wanna kno’ why?” Tezza asked, pausing slightly for effect.
Ron suspected that he would tell them the answer whether they wanted to hear it or not, but nonetheless he humoured Tezza all the same.
“Alrite, I’ll tell you why… you run into a hungry dragon on a bad day, it’ll smoke you alrite… but dragons don’t play with their food… a dragon will roast ya’ long before it thinks about eating ya’ to stop ya’ from runnin’ away… but these things… mate… ya kno’ what these things do to ya? It uses those suckers to drain you of your blood, but not enough to kill ya’… na’, it takes just enuff to weaken ya’ and keep ya’ within its grasp… then it will swallow ya’ whole… they can swallow up to four time their body weight… but that’s not the last of it, oh na’, wouldn’t be so bad if it was, like, but that’s only the start of it… ya’ see once it falls asleep it pumps oxygen right through the victim’s brain and airwaves… acts kinda like an oxygen tank in there… to try and keep ya alive… then as it gradually comes out of its slumber it slowly regurgitates ya’… then… when it wakes up… it starts the process all over again. They can sometimes keep their prey alive for over four days before finally killing it for good.”
Hermione said nothing, but she had a look of utter disgust and horror on her face.
“And has one of those…things… ever actually escaped?” Ron managed to muster.
“Oh Christ no!” Tezza jibed. “They’d probably shut the whole place down if one of those got out and killed a poor little ankle biter or somethin’. Can you imagine the bad press we’d-
“ATTENTION ALL STATIONS!”
A loud, slightly muffled booming voice came out from what looked like a small, portable muggle radio on Tezza’s belt.
“WHO WAS THE LAST OF YOUS TO HAVE SEEN OUR BRITISH VISITORS? I REPEAT, WHO WAS THE LAST OF YOUS TO HAVE SEEN OUR BRITISH VISITORS? OVER!”
Tezza smiled slightly.
“Funny you should ask that, Zoe,” he said into the radio. “I’m with ‘em right now. Over.”
“Is that you Terrence? Over.”
“Sure as hell is, Zoe, you see-
“What’s your nearest assembly point? Over.”
“Well… we’re just by the old Yara-ma-yha-who enclosure… so I’d say…erm… ah ya! The Great Barrier Reef café. Over.”
“That’s great. Head over with them now… I’ll meet you there in ten minutes. Over.”
“No worries, Zoe, mate. I’ll bring ‘em right down. Over,” he said into the radio, as he started heading east, then motioned with his hand for them to follow him.
The Great Barrier Reef café turned out to be a massive muggle-style aquarium, with a sizeable restaurant in the back serving up mostly seafood-based cuisine. The aquarium hosted mostly exotic fish found in the seas of Sydney, but there were also other creatures like sharks and turtles housed there too.
Tezza stayed with them in a waiting area of the main reception, which housed a large open-tank filled with different types of rays, which people, mostly children, were able to reach in and feed if they so pleased.
Whoever had designed the hotel had really gone all in on the muggle-theme, as this particular section even had a large boxed television raised up high on the wall, with some kind of muggle wildlife program playing.
“That man on the television. Is he a muggle?” Hermione asked, as the blonde, burly man in a khaki outfit stalked a large crocodile whilst he talked to the camera.
“Who? Steve Irwin?! He’s only one of the most famous muggoes in all of Australia! Surprised you ain’t heard of him,” he replied.
“But how… but how is he able to avoid being killed by that crocodile? If he’s not a wizard?” Ron quizzed, as he too began watching on at the TV in surprise.
“Beats me, mate. But he ain’t in no danger – those crocco’s love him,” Tezza said with a wry smile on his face, as he placed his left hand into the water and reached down. “Why… Steve-o up there’s in no more danger with one of those crocs than I am with this little sting-ray,” he added, as he caressed one of the floating flat creatures with his fingers.
“AH YA CUNT!!!!” Tezza blurted out, splashing water everywhere as he quickly removed his hand from the tank.
“The little bastard stung me!” he exclaimed in outrage.
“Hermione Granger? Ron Weasley?”
Ron saw a middle-aged lady with heavily tanned skin and thick dark hair, who he guessed had been the female voice from the muggle radio. She was well dressed, with a face full of perfectly applied make-up and the fixed-forced smile of someone who had probably been working in customer-facing roles for a long time.
“That’s us,” Hermione responded eagerly, with a distant sound of hope in her voice.
“I’m Zoe Federici. Head of Guest Relations here at the hotel,” Federici said, just before shaking both of their hands. “The Ministry have sent us word that they have found your parents, Miss Granger,” she added, flashing a brief smile and her bright, white teeth in Hermione’s direction.
Ron heard an audible gasp of both relief and excitement from Hermione, as she grasped onto his hand very tightly.
“Given the circumstances they thought it best to err on the side of caution and have opted against using magic to transport them here. Their current working plan is for you to be re-introduced just after breakfast tomorrow morning… meet me in the main lobby reception just after 10AM... and in the mean-time, please, if there is anything I or any of my staff can do to improve your stay with us, all you have to do is ask.”
The good news that Federici had delivered to them earlier in the day had come as a pretty big relief to Ron, but it couldn’t compare to the relief that it had taken off of his girlfriend’s shoulders. In the hours that followed Hermione had finally allowed herself to properly enjoy the extravagant and exotic surroundings that they found themselves located in.
Their first act, on Zoe’s own suggestion, had been a trip to the beach bar in their section of the resort. The Guest Relations manager had insisted on pouring their first round of celebratory cocktails herself, which had presented a new dilemma for them, as neither of them had ordered an alcoholic cocktail before in their lives.
This did not act as a set-back for Federici, more-so, it actually put a genuinely excited smile on her face, as she whipped out a strange, leathery brown hat which had several corks attached to it with string.
“This isn’t just any old hat,” she had said. “This hat has been charmed to explore your mind, body and soul to work out the exact cocktail that you would most like at that given moment.”
They had each had a go at trying on the hat over two hours ago – and were both now pretty tipsy after consuming their fair share of cocktails at the bar. Hermione drinking the refreshing rum, lime and mint mojitos, with Ron knocking back the even sweeter pineapple and coconut concoctions called pina coladas.
Ron was now drinking his fourth, or maybe his fifth, as they relaxed on comfortable cushioned chairs back up at their balcony whilst watching the artificial sun-set. The synthetic weather was still warm enough that Ron sat with his top off, just wearing a pair of swim-shorts, whilst Hermione relaxed in a white swimsuit, which was nicely cut around her cleavage.
Ron was sure that Hermione had caught him on one of the few occasions that he had stolen a quick glance at her slightly protruding breasts – and to his surprise she had not told him off, instead she had said nothing, merely looking away hesitantly with a wry smile on her pretty face.
“You know… there was something Miss Burke said back at the Australian Ministry that I found a little… odd,” a tipsy Hermione said, as Ron looked over at her, pondering his reply as he tried to avoid staring at her cleavage.
“Did you know that Kingsley had a brother?” she said with a confused look on her face before he could think of anything to say in response. “She mentioned that back when they were at Hogwarts together Kingsley and his brother used to gloat to her about the Quidditch results.”
Ron did vaguely remember Olivia Burke making an offhand comment like that, but such was his mental and physical state following that horrific portkey journey that it had completely passed him by, not registering as particularly odd at the time – or if it had, that train of thought had swiftly departed the station of his mind just as soon as it had entered it.
“No… no I don’t think he’s ever mentioned having a brother before,” Ron responded, as he searched through his less than sober mind for any recollection of such a conversation.
“Don’t you agree that that’s a little bit odd?” Hermione offered, as she took a deep sip on her straw, twirling around the little mint leaves in her sugar-coated glass as she did so.
It was a little bit odd, Ron agreed, but that sort of thing wasn’t completely unheard of in the wizarding community.
“Perhaps a little, yes… but Mum never likes to talk about her brothers… maybe Kingsley’s brother was killed in the first war too.”
“That’s a good point,” Hermione said. “I hadn’t considered that… yes… yes, you may well be right.”
“Always the tone of surprise,” he teased sarcastically, as Hermione smiled a little, then let out a tipsy laugh.
“I do understand why she never talks about them,” Ron continued, suddenly steering the conversation to a more serious direction, perhaps partially due to the influence of the alcohol, as he noticed the expression on Hermione’s face turn from a smile to one of sympathy.
“Dad always said that a little part of her died the day she found out that they’d been killed… and I know it must have been really hard for her… but I do sometimes wish she would’ve talked about them more. Even just told us some funny family stories or something. It feels weird to even say their names out loud since nobody would ever talk about them…
Hermione reached over and placed her soft, warm hand on top of Ron’s, caressing his hand with her slim fingers as he kept talking.
“… I won’t ever let myself do that with Fred,” Ron added, trying to reassure himself more than Hermione.
“When we’re married and have children of our own I’ll tell them every funny story about Fred that I know and-
Ron stopped himself as he realised what he had just said.
Hermione had already started laughing.
“Wait- that’s not what I meant- I-
“When we’re married and have children of our own?” Hermione jibed, as she sarcastically raised her eyebrows.
“No- no- I meant- you know what I-
“I’m very interested to hear what you meant to say, Ronald,” Hermione said, still giggling at his mistake, as she stood up from her chair after finishing the last of her drink.
Ron clumsily pulled himself up from his chair so that they were standing face to face in the sunset.
“Well I just meant if… you know if-
Hermione kissed his lips before he had a chance to finish.
He felt her arms wrap tightly around his shoulders, pulling him in even closer, as he rested his own arms around the back of her slender waist.
“I don’t know how much you know about the human anatomy Ron,” she said softly, almost in a whisper, as she temporary broke away from the kiss. “But it seems a little premature for you to be thinking about getting me pregnant when we haven’t even… you know…”
Ron felt his heartrate rise rapidly.
He didn’t quite know what to say.
Her skin looked so soft and creamy.
His eyes fell on her cleavage once more and he noticed the outline of her two nipples and breasts against her white swimsuit.
His cock tingled slightly as he imagined what it would be like to have one of her breasts in his mouth.
“Why is it that we haven’t yet, do you think?” Hermione asked.
“I dunno… I mean-
“I suppose I have been awfully stressed about my parents… and I’m sure it has been awfully difficult for you too… we’ve been so caught up with everything we just haven’t really had time to think about it,” she concluded, as Ron nodded in agreement, even though it wasn’t the slightest bit true that he hadn’t had time to think about it.
“You do want to… you know… don’t you?” she whispered, with a look of doubt on her face.
“Yes!” he blurted out. “I mean… if… only if you want to,” he quickly added.
“You don’t think I look awfully stupid… in this swimsuit, I mean. You don’t think I look too-
“I think you look perfect,” Ron drunkenly pronounced, as he pulled her close and passionately kissed her lips. He heard her sigh softly as he ran his hands gently down her back, eventually resting them on her bottom.
Ron squeezed her bum cheeks firmly as her tongue aggressively fought its way into his mouth.
He lifted her up and stumbled slightly, before she straddled her legs around his waist as they continued lustfully kissing whilst he carried her into the bedroom, before thrusting her down onto the bed and pressing her down against the sheets as they continued their steamy embrace.
Ron broke away from kissing her lips and quickly worked his way across first to her right cheek, then further down the side of her face before he began amorously pecking her neck.
Hermione sighed softly, then began to press her nails across his back as he remembered the technique that Lavender had taught him during their brief fling in sixth year.
He opened his mouth as if to bite her neck, but instead he sucked strongly, causing his girlfriend to gasp with pleasure. Ron wondered if he would be the first person to give Hermione a love-bite, he hoped he was – and the jealous thought of Viktor Krum, or anyone else having done this to her only caused him to suck with a renewed sense of vigour.
Hermione scratched his back in delight as he felt his penis grow harder and harder, as he broke free of his sucking to begin snogging her again, tasting the rum, lime and mint on her tongue and breathe as he did so.
His train of thought briefly went back to Lavender Brown – and he quickly pushed the horrific sight of her dead, mutilated body out and away from his mind.
He pulled back from his embrace with Hermione and got up slightly, before untying the cords and taking off his shorts, leaving him fully naked and exposed in-front of her.
Ron’s cock stood firmly to attention and Hermione studied it with enough curiosity for him to feel reassured that his was the very first that she had seen in the flesh. The excitement of her studying his naked body like it was a brand-new book made him feel about as horny as he could ever remember feeling.
She followed his lead in getting undressed and smiled shyly at him, before sitting up and slowly taking off her white swimsuit and casting it aside, leaving only her glorious, bare-naked skin in its wake.
Her body was scattered with occasional freckles, much lighter and less noticeable than his own, but noticeable in their own way nonetheless. His dick stiffened up even more as he finally cast his eyes on her beautiful breasts and perky, pink nipples. She had a small mole on her left breast and just above her belly button – and upon seeing those little imperfections he had never felt more intimate and close to her.
He stared at her bare, naked body as she did the same to him, for all his sneaky glances at her breasts throughout the last hour or so, she was more than getting even now as she bashfully eyed up his cock.
Ron looked towards the middle of her legs and unlike her smoothly shaven sex in his dream that morning, her vagina was covered by small tufts of bushy, brown pubic hair.
They caught each other’s eye at the same time and hungrily embraced once more, lips against lips, tongue to tongue, as they began to explore each other’s body with their hands. Ron fondled her breasts firmly, as she reached out and got her first grasp of his erect cock.
He was surprised he didn’t cum there and then, but he relaxed himself as she begin gently pulling up and down on his penis as his right hand trickled down from her breast to her stomach, before he eventually reached the inside of her thighs and the tufts of her pubic hair.
Hermione moaned and swore under her breath as his fingers slowly glided their way through the hairs and reached her glistening clitoris and he began to softly rub it, as Lavender had once taught him.
At the time of their break-up Ron had harboured a slight tinge of regret that they had only ever gone as far as to fondle around with each other, but in hindsight he had absolutely no regrets considering that he was about to lose his virginity with the girl that he had loved for several years now.
The sight of Lavender’s dead corpse once again entered his mind though - and for a brief moment all sense of arousal was lost.
“Don’t stop,” Hermione whispered gently – and he was soon just as horny as he was before when she increased the speed and force of her grip on his cock.
He continued to press his fingers against her, feeling her wetness increase with each stroke, causing her to dampen her pubic hairs and cover his index and middle fingers with the fruits of his labour.
“I think I’m ready,” she softly gasped, as she reluctantly relented her grip of his cock and lay back, opening her legs even further.
He stared down at his beautiful naked girlfriend, her dark brown eyes gazing down at him with a look of both excitement and slight nervousness on her face.
Ron remembered that he hadn’t yet uttered the contraceptive spell and quickly grabbed his wand from the bedside table, muttering the spell he had first seen written on a desk in one of the Herbology greenhouses in 3rd year.
A feint and very quickly invisible trail of white smoke brushed against, then evaporated onto his penis, as he held onto Hermione’s thighs and then slowly but surely entered her tight, wet cunt.
Hermione gasped heavily, with what seemed like a mixture of pleasure and pain.
So this was it.
This was what it felt like.
The sight of Lavender’s corpse once again entered his horrified mind as he came to terms with the fact that he was finally inside of Hermione and had lost his virginity.
He reached out and held one of his girlfriend’s hands, softly pulling his penis slightly out and then back inside of her again.
Now he saw Remus, Tonks and finally Fred’s lifeless body laid out in the great hall.
Ron tried to get the horrible, graphic images out of his head but they just wouldn’t budge.
He slowed his rhythm almost to a halt entirely - and felt the blood and the excitement of his arousal slowly shift away from his penis.
His eyes opened slightly and Hermione shot him a curious, concerned look.
“Are you alright?” she murmured.
Lavender – dead.
Remus – dead.
Sirius – dead.
“Ronald?”
Mad Eye – dead.
Tonks – dead.
Dobby – dead.
Dumbledore – dead.
Fred… Fred… dead.
“They’re all gone,” he mumbled, as he felt the hot tears began to form in his eyelids.
“They’re all dead.”
The tears began to slowly run down his face, before he quickly began blubbing his eyes out.
Hermione held him tight for a while, as he buried his face into her bosom and then slowly cried himself to sleep.
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Longing For Feelings Pt. 4
That night, your sister and her husband held a surprise birthday party for you. They came to Yongguk's house with a lot of food and cake. It was a waste to eat that much food with only the four of you, including Yongguk. However, they couldn't invite people since they didn't let Yongguk know about the surprise beforehand. You were thankful that they respected Yongguk as the owner of the house.
Your brother-in-law was a lot older than Yongguk so it was obvious how much Yongguk respected the man. If he usually ignored you when you were talkative, he entertained your brother-in-law's chatty side kindly.
After two hours, they excused themself because you were already drunk. You hadn't had alcohol for so long so you lost track how many glasses of soju you could handle.
"Why did you drink so much?" He said to you who was lying down on the couch.
Your head was light and your body burning up. "Yongguk?"
"What?"
"Can you come here?"
"What do you want?" He steered his wheelchair to approach you. Once he was close, he gasped when you suddenly plopped onto his lap. "What the hell are you doing? You're drunk."
"You haven't said it yet. Wish me a happy birthday." You patted his chest.
"Happy birthday." Surprisingly, he did as asked albeit monotonously.
"That's all? Where's my gift?" You opened your palm to him, head resting on his shoulder. Then, you laughed. "Nevermind. You don't have to get me a gift."
"I couldn't go out to prepare anything for you." He explained although you didn't blame him at all. Of course you knew, you were together with him all day.
"It's okay." You assured him. You weren't sure if it was because of the alcohol in your system or you had been waiting for the right time to say it to him. You said, "You allowing me to be here next to you is a blessing. The only gift I could have asked for. I like it here. It's so much better than the city, that's why I came back."
He touched your arm when you didn't say anything while resting your body more comfortably on his body. Your eyes were closed. "Are you sleeping?"
"No," came your soft answer. "Yongguk?"
"Hmm?"
"I want to stay here."
"No one is chasing you away."
"But you don't want me to stay neither. When did we become like this? Was it because of what I said about her?"
"Don't go there." He warned. He didn't want to be reminded of her, his ex-girlfriend who left him for another. The same woman who caused you and Yongguk to drift apart.
"I'm sorry. I am sorry I said that about her. I was upset." You lifted your head and fluttered open your eyes to meet his. His eyes widened when he saw your glossy eyes. "I am sorry for liking you more than a friend. I… It was my fault." You buried your face on his neck and cried. You and Yongguk used to be so close that people mistook you as a couple. Everything changed after you told him about her meeting someone else behind his back.
"Stop it. Why are we even talking about this?" Yongguk was not sure what he should say. "Hey…" Yongguk was alarmed when your body went limp against him and the cry subsided. A feeling of relief washed over his being when he heard your soft snore.
"It's your birthday, you dumb. You should be happy." He fixed the position of your head and wrapped his arms around your body to prevent you from falling.
The next morning, you woke up with a terrible body ache. As soon as you opened your eyes, you were greeted by his sleeping face that was too close for comfort. Slowly, you realized you had spent a whole night on his lap. It must be uncomfortable for him.
You couldn't really remember what happened yesterday after your sister and her husband went home. You got off his lap, before waking him up, "Yongguk." You shook his shoulder more than twice.
He groaned while stretching out his arms, yawning. "My body aches," he complained. "Why did you drink so much?"
"I'm sorry." You apologized, blaming yourself for being so inconsiderate. How did you end up on his lap? You promised yourself you would not do it ever again. You shouldn't burden his legs with your weight. "Sorry for hurting you." You looked at his thighs apologetically.
Yongguk realized what you were thinking. He said, "That's not what I mean. My back hurts sleeping on this wheelchair." He tried to clarify but you were so guilty it didn't get through your head.
"Do you want to lie down? Let me send you to your room."
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door and a voice calling out your name. It sounded like your brother-in-law. You went to get the door and were greeted by him. You laughed because he was holding a bouquet of flowers.
"How many surprises did you guys prepare for me?" You smiled as you received the flowers.
He shook his head, "It's not from us."
"Then who—"
"I have to rush to work. Happy birthday again, sister." He patted your head and left you dumbfounded.
You marvelled at the beautiful arrangement, trying to guess who was the sender. There were no cards or letters so it was really hard to guess. You entered the house while inhaling the rosy scent.
"I got flowers." You showed the bouquet to Yongguk who didn't look interested. "I wonder who gave me this. My brother didn't let me know. Oh? Maybe…"
"Maybe?"
"Maybe Youngjae?" Since he lived nearby your sister's house.
"Are you serious?"
"Huh?"
"It's me."
"It's you?" You couldn't believe your ears. Yongguk asked your brother-in-law to get you flowers? You looked at his face for confirmation but he looked away and nodded his head. With a bigger smile, you walked toward him and shyly kissed his cheek.
He blushed red, still looking away from you.
"Thank you for the flowers. And for the thought. I really love it."
"You love it?" He asked after he gathered enough courage to look into your eyes. You prettily nodded, eyes shone with happiness. "I'm glad, then."
"I had never received a flower before. I never thought of myself as a fan of flowers but now that I got one, I know why women are kind of obsessed with flowers."
"Why?"
You chuckled, "It might sound silly but receiving flowers makes me feel...pretty? Even though I am not."
He furrowed his brows, "What do you mean?" He didn't like your last sentence.
"Sorry." You chuckled again. "Did I sound conceited? Just forget it. Thank you again, Yongguk."
***
"You are putting too much effort." He commented when you diligently changed the water in the vase. The flowers he got you were still alive.
"I want them to last longer." You said, taking care of the flowers like it was your child. "It would be sad to see them wilt."
"You can always get another flower."
"It won't be the same."
"They're just flowers."
"They're from you."
He stayed silent for a few seconds before clearing his throat to calm his heart.
Another day, another knock on the door. You eagerly went to the door just to step back in horror.
"What are you doing here?" You asked in fear.
"Come with me." A woman gripped your arm but you pulled away and ran into the house.
Yongguk was perplexed with your action. "What's wrong? Who is it?"
You couldn't answer him because your body was trembling. Your aunt from the city was there with her son. They were there for you, to force you to go back to the city.
"Tell me." Yongguk insisted, approaching you to hold your cold fingers. You stood in misery in front of him. You gasped when they trespassed into the house. "Who are they?"
"I'm her aunt. We're here to take her back home."
"No!" You interjected and let go of Yongguk's hand to hide behind his wheelchair. "I don't want to go home."
Yongguk didn't understand anything but for sure he didn't like their presence.
"Come with us or we will make you." She threatened you. You were not fond of his son because he was rough. You knew he was capable of hurting you if his mother told him to. "Your father sent us here."
"I will stay here with my sister."
"Liar! We know you've been here for weeks. Why are you slaving after this man when there's someone better waiting for you?" She signalled his son to get you.
You whined, didn't have anywhere to go. Your cousin gripped your arm and roughly pulled you to his side. "Let me go. You're hurting me."
"Stop it." Yongguk interfered, holding another arm of your. "She said she doesn't want to go with you."
"She got no option." Your cousin tugged harder on your arm but Yongguk also tightened his grip on you.
"Just bring her here." You aunt demanded, giving her son permission to act as he pleased.
You winced in pain when your cousin pulled you harder. You lowered your body to increase your weight but the way Yongguk was also pulling you closer to him made you fall onto his lap on the wheelchair. He took the chance to hug you tight and pushed your cousin away roughly.
"This is my house. I want both of you to leave." Yongguk's voice was icy cold, eyes glaring. He was angry, you could tell. "Get the fuck out!"
Seconds later, you were crying while Yongguk was cursing out. Yongguk struggled to protect you from your cousin, but there was not much he could do in his condition.
Suddenly, you were hit by realization that the situation was not good for Yongguk. He was exerting too much force from his weak body. The vein on his neck was bulging.
"Stop it!" You left his lap to use every ounce of energy in your body to push your cousin away. "I'll come with you. Stop hurting him!" You yelled out, surrendering yourself.
"No!" Yongguk became more panicked. "You're not going with them." He shook his head with wide eyes, denying you.
"Go and wait for me in the car. I am going to pack my things." You said, heading toward your room.
"15 minutes." Your aunt said and exited the house with her son.
"You're not leaving! No." Yongguk followed you around in his wheelchair in distress. "Why? You said you don't want to go home?"
You ignored him and lifelessly packed your things.
"Talk to me! Why are you ignoring me? Are you leaving me?" Yongguk tried his best to get your attention. "Say something!"
"I'll ask my sister to come here. I am sorry I can't take care of you anymore."
"That's not important! Why are you leaving me? Why do you have to go with them? What do they want from you?!" He raised his voice.
You broke down in tears, cupping your own face with crouching on the floor. "They want me to marry someone."
"What? No way. No fucking way. Stay here with me. Fuck them. You don't have to go."
"I have to. If I don't go with them now, they will come back again. It would get worse." You wiped your wet face with the back of hand before zipping your luggage. "I'm sorry, Yongguk. I had to break my promise. I am a terrible person. I am so sorry."
"Don't leave. You said you like it here. Don't go. Why do you have to listen to them?"
"That's true. I like it here. But the thing is, Yongguk, I don't belong here. There's no place for me here." You bitterly smiled at him. "I tried. I tried to find my place here while knowing I was not invited. I forced people to accept me here. My sister...her husband
.. and you."
"That's not true!" He denied, heart aching because of how unwanted you sounded. "You're wrong. Nobody—"
"I have to go." You stood and held the handle of your luggage with tears falling down your cheeks. "Get well soon, Yongguk. Don't forget your medicine and listen to my sister, okay?"
"No… no. You are not going anywhere!"
"Goodbye, Bang Yongguk."
Few minutes after you left, your sister arrived to a trashed house. The living room was a big mess with almost everything broken and thrown to the floor. Yongguk was on his wheelchair, pathetically crying while holding a vase of fresh flowers on his lap.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
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