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starshine583 · 3 years

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New Girl on the Block (17)

(sorry for the late update everyone! I spent time with family this weekend and got a little side tracked lol anyway, please enjoy chapter 17 of “New Girl on the Block” and as always, feel free to check out the mini series connected to this called Journal Entries!)

Ch.1 / Ch.16 / Ch.18 (ao3)

Chapter 17: Subtlety Is Key

The platform ladder that Marinette was standing on sat firmly in Felix’s grip as he watched her attempt to pin a stream of hearts to the wall. She appeared to be having trouble deciding which angle was best, moving her end of the stream up and down while staring at the other end, which was already pinned up, and squinting. He half wondered if she was going to take this long on every stream of hearts she pinned up, since she'd been doing the same up-and-down motion for a while now, but he also didn’t mind waiting if she did. The longer he stood here, the better his chances were of escaping the task of writing those “thank you” cards that Allegra liked to put in her party favors. She always managed to rope him into it, saying that his handwriting was the best amongst them, which, in truth, it was, but why not save the trouble and type out the message on the computer in a curly font? Surely, it would have the same effect.

“Felix, does this look straight to you?”

Felix dragged his gaze back up to Marinette, who was frowning at the spot that she’d finally decided to stop on. The stream of hearts hung to her right, making a nice curve on the wall that looked fine, but he wouldn’t be able to say for certain until he acquired a level, which they didn’t have.

“As straight as it can get, I imagine.” He replied. Even if it was a tad off, the guests would hardly notice. They’ll be too busy mingling and dancing around.

A sigh fell from the ravenette, and she lowered the hearts to give him a tired look. “How is that supposed to help me?”

“Well, it’s definitely not straight now. Does that help?”

Marinette pressed her lips into a thin line, obviously disgruntled, and Felix clenched his jaw to avoid smiling. Perhaps he should wait until she got off the ladder to continue. She might kick him in the face otherwise.

“Why are you here if you’re not going to be useful?” She grumbled, turning back to the wall.

A snort escaped Felix’s lips. “I am being useful. I’m holding the ladder so you don’t fall and break your neck.”

“Bold of you to assume I won’t fall whether the ladder is steady or not.”

“Which is another reason why I’m here.” He replied smoothly. “To catch you.”

Marinette hummed, glancing down at him from the corner of her eye. “How kind of you.”

“Yes, it really is, isn’t it?”

She breathed out a small laugh and shook her head, coaxing a smirk from Felix as well.

It’s been about a week since they stayed up all night talking at Allegra’s house, since things between them changed, since things with him changed. He couldn’t quite place what had caused it, except that it was most definitely her. The way she listened to him wholeheartedly throughout the entire night, hanging on his every word, offering support when needed and trading a few stories herself- It made him feel heard, which was immensely strange. Because he’d been heard before, plenty of times in fact. It was nothing new. So why was that night different? Was it because of the soft atmosphere that the moon provided? Or because they were both somewhat tired despite saying otherwise? Why did his entire being feel so clear and refreshed when they went up to bed later on?

Whatever happened, he’d assumed that the feeling would be gone by morning, since nighttime conversations hardly travel to the next day, but imagine his surprise when the feeling swelled full force in his chest the next day, specifically when he greeted Marinette in the hall. It was as crystal clear as the night before, and it had yet to fade even now.

Felix didn’t understand. Not at all. But he certainly wasn’t going to dispute it. He actually began encouraging the feeling, talking with Marinette on a more constant basis, muttering in her direction during conversations, asking more casual questions, throwing around a joke or two about the others when it seemed appropriate- he even found himself teasing her at one point, which led him to the wonderful realization that Marinette Dupain-Cheng was much sassier than he’d given her credit for. Despite her surprise, she’d snapped back immediately, a playful glare in her eyes and a smirk on her lips, and with an unexpected reaction like that, Felix couldn’t not tease her more. That would simply be a waste.

In the following week, he continued to talk with her, and continued to learn how much of a wild card she truly was. She never reacted to his teasing the same way. For example, one minute, she would blush, the next she would smack him, or roll her eyes and shoot right back without a second thought, or even pout. There was no telling what she was going to do next, and Felix eagerly anticipated her next move each time. It was fun for him now, fun to talk with her, fun to see her smirks and glares and giggles when he did. He could understand why Claude, Allegra, and Allan would want to talk with everyone and anyone if they all acted like her.

Their dynamic had definitely changed over the last few days, and although he wasn’t sure how much Marinette had noticed it herself, Felix knew he was thoroughly enjoying the shift.

“There.” Marinette said above him, leaning back to put her hands on her hips. “How’s that?”

Felix’s eyes glazed over the stream of hearts again, and he let out a hum. “A bit more to the left.”

Her shoulders drooped. “Are you serious?”

“No.”

The narrowed yet playful glare that she shot him had Felix holding back another chuckle, and he innocently moved to grab one of the pink, inflated balloons on the table next to them to hand it to her.

“Why do I ask you anything anymore?” She asked as she took the balloon from him.

“Because you know I’m an excellent judge when it comes to fine craftsmanship, such as the stream of hearts hanging above us on the wall right now.”

Marinette scoffed, tacking the balloon to the wall just above the first decoration. “What, are you kissing up to me now? Are you trying to butter me up so I’ll bring you more cheesy croissants?”

Felix shot her a look of feigned offense. “I wouldn’t dream of it, not after the amount of pain and effort that went into the making of those decorations.”

Now she was glaring at him. “Exactly how long do you plan on holding that paper cut against me?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.” Felix replied, a slight smile betraying his lips as he did.

Marinette huffed, letting her eyes flick up in an eyeroll, and started back down the ladder. Felix moved back to let her off, before grabbing the ladder again to lift it over to the next wall. They still had two more streams to put up.

“You seem to be more present today.” He commented, thinking back on the get-together they had yesterday. She’d been lost in her own thoughts through the first part of it, so much so that Allegra felt the need to ask her if she was alright. Marinette didn’t get to answer due to Claude jumping in, but when Felix asked her about it again a bit later, she quickly froze up, saying that she’d rather keep it to herself for the time being.

Felix understood, of course, and he said as much, but that didn’t stop him from being curious. Or even a bit concerned. She always had a specific look when that model was involved, and she’d worn it openly yesterday. Therefore, he could only assume that that was part of the trouble, but how much trouble? Did they run into each other again? Did he text her? Did he go looking for her somewhere? There were too many possibilities and not enough clues for Felix to draw a firm conclusion. He couldn’t even be sure that Agreste was the problem in the first place.

“Did your troubles sort themselves out?” He added, trying not to look at her too much as he did. Felix didn’t want to pry, but he did want to make sure she was handling herself alright. (Not that that was really in question at this point. After that run-in with the akuma, they all knew quite well that Marinette could take care of things when she needed to.)

Marinette paused at the base of the ladder, tilting her head at him with a questioning glance. “My troubles?”

A slight frown tugged at the corner of Felix’s lips. Had she forgotten already? It must not have been that important, then..

“You said something was bothering you yesterday.” He said anyway.

“Oh!” Understanding washed over her features, but a grimace quickly followed. “Oh.”

Felix rose a brow. Did that mean the problem wasn’t resolved?

“Um.. no.” She said, offering a bit of clarity as she fiddled with the next stream of hearts that they were supposed to be hanging up. “No, it’s still very much there, unfortunately. I’m not sure how everything’s going to work out yet.”

Felix nodded. “I see. I apologize for bringing it up, then.”

“No, no, you’re fine.” She insisted as she climbed the ladder. “I know you were just trying to help.”

“Besides,” Marinette threw another smile over her shoulder, one that was clearly softer than the smirks she’d been giving him earlier, “if it gets to be too much, I’m sure you’ll come to rescue again. So you can have something else to brag about.”

Felix’s eyes widened, admittedly knocked off balance by the comment. Joking about being rescued wasn’t entirely unusual, but ‘again’? What did she mean ‘again’? Did she think he rescued her before? When? Why did he find himself feeling immensely pleased with the thought?

“Of course..” He muttered absently. “I do love to brag, you know.”

It was a bland remark to be sure, not nearly one of his best, but Marinette laughed anyway, as she always did, and turned back around to start pinning the next stream of hearts to the wall.

Felix continued to watch.

~~~~~~

Bzzt. Bzzt.

Adrien lunged for his phone, unlocking it with his fingerprint before it could even finish vibrating, and tapped the notification. Was it her? Had she finally decided to text him? Please let it be her!

A news app flashed onto his screen, and his shoulders sagged as he realized that Marinette hadn’t texted him. How long was she going to wait? It’s already been a full day, and winter break was fading fast. He knew these things could take time, but they honestly didn’t have a lot of that right now. Once school started up again, his schedule was going to go right back to packed, and he’d barely be able to breathe let alone go see her. He didn’t want their precious chance to hang-out to go to waste.

“You good, dude?” Nino asked next to him. “You’ve been hovering around your phone all day. Is something going on?”

“Oh, uh-” Adrien sat up, pushing away his phone and disappointment. Marinette was going to text him eventually. He just needed to be patient. “No, everything’s fine. Père just likes to stay in touch with me while I’m out, so I want to make sure I don’t miss any text messages or anything.”

Nino frowned. “Isn’t sending Gorilla with you enough?”

Adrien shrugged. “Yeah, but you know how he is. He likes to stay on top of things.”

Disgruntlement flicked across Nino’s features, and he tugged his hat down slightly to hide it, muttering, “Or he just likes to control everything.”

Adrien smiled despite the comment. “Come on, he’s not that bad. He let us hang out today, right?”

Nino nodded, though his frown didn’t fade. “Yeah, I guess that’s true.. Just don’t let him distract you from our game. We still have a tie to break.”

Adrien straightened and grabbed the controller that he’d dropped earlier. “Course not! Père or no, I still have plenty of focus to beat you.”

Nino let out a playful scoff. “Sure, dude. We’ll see who beats who this time.”

Adrien chuckled and positioned himself on the couch, and the two jokingly counted down before starting the next match.

Keeping Nino in the dark about Marinette wasn’t something Adrien enjoyed- they were best friends, after all -but he didn’t want to risk talking about her now. The class was only just now starting to be suspicious of Lila, and even then, it was light, joking. They weren’t serious about it yet. If they knew he was meeting up with Marinette, the person they still weren’t entirely fond of, it might serve as a disadvantage to him. What if they stopped listening to him because he was talking with her? He couldn’t take that chance. He needed to get his feet planted firmly on the ground before taking any rash steps forward.

That said, he did need to take some sort of step forward. Lila trying to make a deal with him last week was extremely reassuring, since it meant that she herself thought of him as a threat, but he also knew that he couldn’t slack off because of it. Muttering over her shoulder wasn’t going to work forever, and if he didn’t find a way to crank up the pressure soon, she would start countering his subtle attacks. Maybe he could start talking to people directly? While they were alone. He could talk to them more about Lila and ask if her stories are suspicious.. But what if he talks to the wrong person? Depending on who he conversed with, they might round on him in an instant, and his plan would crumble again. No, he needed to be careful about this. He needed to start with someone he could trust.

“....So,” Adrien glanced at Nino, because who better to start with than his best friend? “what are your thoughts on Lila?”

If Adrien wanted to change everyone’s opinion of Marinette and Lila, he supposed he would have to know those opinion’s first, and Nino, he felt, was the perfect candidate for that. He was a chill, relaxed person, who pretty much liked everybody. (Everybody except Adrien’s father, that is.) His opinion of Lila should be similar to an average of everyone else’s opinion, and Adrien could use that as an estimation of Lila’s- hopefully decreasing -popularity.

Nino scrunched up his nose, clearly confused by the change of subject. “Lila? I mean, she’s alright. Pretty nice. Alya really likes her.”

Adrien nodded thoughtfully. That was about what he expected him to say. “What do you think about her stories? It seems like she’s been everywhere, doesn’t it?”

Nino snorted. “Right? She says she knows everybody and anybody. It’s pretty crazy.”

Adrien’s eyes widened slightly, though Nino didn’t notice. ‘She says she knows everybody’? Not ‘she knows everybody’? If Adrien didn’t know any better, he might say that sounded a little bit like doubt.

“You don’t believe her?” He asked, carefully.

“No, no, I do.” Nino rushed to say, ignoring the game console that was now blinking ‘defeat’ on his side. “It’s just.. you know.. crazy. She’s been all over the world, knows all these different people, and she’s only fifteen. And she kept up with the school the whole time. It sounds like a lot.”

“Yeah, it definitely does.” Adrien agreed, setting his controller aside and hiding a smile. “And now, she’s been taking up the job as class president, even though she’s still planning charity events and working at homeless shelters and hanging out with Alya and the rest of the girls and doing homework.. It makes you wonder how she fits it all into her schedule.”

Nino chuckled. “Yeah, I- It’s.. I don’t know. I definitely couldn’t do it. What about you, though? What do you think about her? You seem to be really interested in her lately.”

Adrien had to bite the inside of his cheek to avoid laughing. Interesting was a word.

“Ah, well.. I guess I’m just curious about her more than anything. I’m a model who goes places and meets people all the time, and I haven’t met nearly as many famous people as she has. I wanna learn how she’s managed to not get in any news or magazines so far-”

Bzzt. Bzzt.

Adrien paused mid-word to whirl around and check his phone. He was honestly preparing himself for the disappointment already- why would this time be any different? -when his eyes landed on the tiny speech bubble that represented his text messaging app. His insides leaped at this sight, and he tried to swallow his excitement as he tapped the notification. Was it her? Had she finally texted him?

Marinette’s name splayed across the top of the screen, and it took every ounce of discipline for Adrien not to leap off the couch and cheer. She’d texted him! Marinette had finally texted him back!

~Hey, sorry it took me so long to text you. I’ve been helping my friends out with something. If you want, I can meet up with you at (something) café for lunch on Feb. 15th? Does that work for you?~

Lunch! Adrien wanted to scream. She was inviting him to lunch! Marinette did want to hang out with him more! This was perfect!

He quickly texted her back.

~That sounds great! I’ll see you then ;D~

Adrien hadn’t even checked his schedule yet, but that didn’t matter. He was making this lunch date no matter what. Then he could talk with Marinette about his plans and maybe convince her to come back and-

“Was that your dad?” Nino asked, breaking Adrien from his thoughts yet again. That was probably a good thing though. He shouldn’t be getting too ahead of himself. From the way things looked, Marinette was really enjoying her new school life. It will probably take a lot of convincing to get her to come back. For now, he needed to take things slowly.

Slowly.

“Oh, yeah.” Adrien said, cool as a cucumber. “He was just telling me about my next photoshoot.”

“Another one? It’s not going to stop us from hanging out, is it?”

“No, no, it shouldn’t.” Not that he knew of, anyway. The only thing his meeting with Marinette would hopefully affect was everyone’s opinions of Lila.

Nino relaxed slightly at the answer. “Good. He over-works you way too much. You should ask for a raise or something.”

Adrien laughed. “I think I’d rather keep the time off that he gives me. Anyway, you ready to play another round? You lost, so now you have to catch back up.”

Nino eyed his controller with a slight smile. “Whatever, man, you know I’m gonna pass you up without a problem.”

“Sure you are.” Adrien smirked. “Just like how you were gonna pass me up last round.”

Nino laughed and snatched his controller up. “Oh, it’s on, dude.”

~~~~~~

Allegra drew in a deep breath, reveling in the scent of the special candles she’d ordered. Patchouli and Rosewood- the perfect thing to accentuate the rose bouquets delicately placed on the round tables and encourage the romantic mood for their party. With the lights dimmed and everyone dancing together on top of that, hearts were bound to be captured, and she couldn’t wait to see it, especially when it came to a particular pair.

Allegra set her candle down and subtly glanced over her shoulder at Felix and Marinette, who were currently stringing up the last stream of hearts on the other side of the room. They were both laughing and talking together, completely comfortable as Felix held the ladder steady and Marinette pinned her last balloon at the end of the stream. It was a cliché couple, really- the stoic, uptight rich boy falling hard for the sweet, adorable bakery girl -but Allegra was determined to see it work out. She’s always prided herself on getting unlikely people together, and these two were going to be her ultimate achievement. Of course, at this point, she supposed she could hardly call them an unlikely couple. They’ve been rather in-step with each other as of late. What with their muttering to each other during group-hang outs and sharing secret looks and sitting near each other on a regular basis. She might be inclined to be excited for the progress if she had any idea as to why they were suddenly so close. Last week, Felix was still gritting his teeth about being caught looking at Marinette, yet today, he’s talking and smiling and laughing with her openly. Laughing! Felix doesn’t laugh. He scowls and hisses and maybe smirks when he’s in a good mood, but he doesn’t laugh. Something monumental must have happened between the two that would encourage him to do so. So what was it? When was it? Her entire body was itching to know, and the fact that she knew she couldn’t ask only made it worse. If she tried to ask Felix about the event, he might clam up again, regressing the friendship. If she tried to ask Marinette about the event, the ravenette would probably become flustered or more hyper aware of Felix’s subconscious advancements, which, again, would probably regress the friendship. She was stuck either way.

“They’re driving me crazy.” She finally said, knowing the boys would hear her. If she couldn’t confirm her theories about Felix and Marinette’s interactions, she would rant about them to Claude and Allan instead.

As usual, Claude was the first to respond, glancing up from the party favors she had him arranging to ask, “What? Who’s driving you crazy?”

Allegra turned to him with a sigh and tilted her head ever-so-slightly in the “lovebirds’” direction. “They are. They’re acting differently than they were before, and I don’t know why.”

Claude straightened to glance over her shoulder for a moment, his brows furrowing slightly.

“You mean Felix and Marinette? They look the same to me.”

Allegra scrunched up her nose with a scoff. “What do you mean they look the same? You think Felix just laughs like that on a regular basis?”

Allan wandered over to their conversation then, also watching Marinette and Felix. The blond and ravenette didn’t even look up from the hearts on the wall, which was another big sign that they were becoming increasingly engrossed in each other. Felix was normally highly aware of his surroundings, as was Allegra, and he usually would have noticed the trio’s stares by now. But he didn’t, because he was too busy looking at Marinette instead.

“They have been a bit chummy lately.” Allan agreed, bringing a smile to Allegra’s lips. At least someone besides herself was paying attention.

“Well, yeah, but we knew that already.” Claude said. “They like each other, don’t they? Of course they would be chummy.”

“Yes, but not like that.” Allegra insisted. “Whether Felix likes her or not doesn’t change the fact that he’s technically being open around all of us right now. Isn’t that a bit strange to you? Besides, we still don’t actually know for sure that Marinette has a crush on Felix.”

Claude gave her a look. “What? I thought you said that she got all blushy and stuff when you talked about Felix at the sleepover.”

“She was, but Marinette gets blushy about a lot of things. And I was talking about how comfortable Felix is around her. That would probably make any girl blush.”

“She has a point,” Allan spoke up, “but I do think she might like him. She always gets this certain vibe when he’s around.”

“Oh, it’s definitely a possibility.” Allegra agreed. “You can totally spot the little ‘glow’ she gets when he talks with her, and even that’s improved since Felix changed things up.”

Claude’s eyes widened as he glanced at the pair again, seeming to study them closer this time. “Do you think she’s glowing more because he’s changed?”

“I’d say so,” Allegra answered, tapping her finger to her lip, “But what I want to know is why he changed and when. It can’t have been anything short of last week, because they only started acting this way recently, but what could have happened that we didn’t see? We’ve been with them the whole time.”

“Maybe they’ve been hanging out by themselves?” Allan suggested. “They’re not tied to us, you know.”

“I know, but wouldn’t we have heard about it? Marinette sends us pictures and such all the time. She would have mentioned her and Felix hanging out by themselves.”

Unless Marinette simply didn’t want to offend them, but Allegra still didn’t buy that explanation. As far as she knew, Felix and Marinette’s shift happened sometime after the sleepover, if not right after. It was as though they’d fallen asleep as usual, then woke up as different people entirely when it came to each other. So whatever happened must have happened during the sleepover.. but when? They were all together most of the night. Allegra supposed it could have happened during Hide and Seek, when they were all spread across the mansion, but moments like those were too quick and too tense and she certainly would have noticed Felix’s change in behavior then. That left her with.. A dead end, because the rest of the night, Marinette and Felix were always with one of the trio, even when they were all sleeping.

Unless the two hadn’t been sleeping..

“I don’t think we should overthink it.” Allan said, lightly nudging his shoulder into Allegra’s. “Marinette seems happier around Felix, and Felix is definitely happier around Marinette, so I say we take the win and let them keep getting closer on their own.”

“I agree.” Claude chimed in, surprising Allegra. He normally enjoyed meddling in others’ affairs as much as she did. “If they’ve made it this far without us getting too involved, they're bound to confess to each other at tomorrow’s party, especially with the ‘fake date’ we have planned for them.”

A smile found its way back onto Allegra’s lips. So he did intend to meddle. He just didn’t want to overthink Felix and Marinette’s sudden progress. She should have known.

“That reminds me: I still have to finish arranging that.” Allegra remarked.

She spun on her heel, leaving the boys to their tasks again, and began crossing the room to Felix and Marinette. Their chuckles and smiles quieted down as she approached, but she paid it no mind. Felix was mostly the one to stop laughing, anyway.

“Are you guys all done?” Allegra inquired, not missing the way Felix gently touched Marinette’s arm to help her get off the ladder.

Marinette flashed her a smile. “Yep! We just finished the last streamer. What’s next?”

Allegra let out a hum. “Well, Felix still has to write all of those ‘thank you’ letters for the party favors-”

A tired sigh left the blond.

“-and we have to set up the caterer’s foods, but they aren’t coming in till tomorrow. So I think we’re pretty much done. Claude and Allan are just now finishing their last tasks too.”

“Oh, good!” Marinette beamed. “The place looks great already. I can’t wait to see everyone’s reactions tomorrow.”

Allegra smiled. “Neither can I. By the way, since everything’s practically set up, you two can go ahead and stay home until the party starts. That way you both have time to get ready.”

A hint of concern flicked across the ravenette’s features as she knitted her eyebrows together. “Are you sure? I don’t mind coming in early with you guys.”

“I do,” Felix cut in, a slight smirk on his lips as he added, “and I will gladly take the extra free time.”

Allegra smirked as well, because she knew that comment had to be for Marinette’s viewing pleasure. He wouldn’t have had a smirk otherwise, nor would he have held that mischievous glint in his eyes.

Of course, Marinette breathed out a chuckle and briefly rolled her eyes, capturing Felix’s attention immediately. She then offered Allegra a meaningful smile.

“Well, if you change your mind, you can always text me.”

“Of course, but in case I don’t, why don’t you have Felix pick you up for the party tomorrow? Since you’re both not going to be arriving until later.”

Marinette and Felix exchanged a look, as though they were silently asking each other’s opinions, and Allegra had to hold back a snort. They were already reading each other and communicating in their own way. It was too cute and all too obvious. How did Claude not notice the difference earlier?

“I wouldn’t mind if you need a ride,” Felix finally spoke, pulling his shoulders up in a slight shrug, “but it’s your decision.”

Allegra swallowed a coo and glanced to the side, because this person in front of her who used to be dead-set on not helping anyone or scowling the whole way was being incredibly considerate, and she desperately needed a before-and-after video.

Marinette smiled up at him. “A ride would be nice, thanks. That way I don’t have to bother Maman or Papa about taking me at the end of their work shift.”

It was just the answer Allegra wanted to hear. Felix will be the first one to see Marinette in her new dress, and he will have plenty of time to become flustered over it during their drive to the party. Missing Felix’s face when he went to fetch Marinette was going to be a shame- since he himself mentioned how stunning she would look -but if they were lucky, perhaps he’ll still be wearing the expression when the two arrive.

“Great! I’ll call my driver so we can start getting ready to leave then.” Allegra said with a smile.

Marinette nodded. “Sounds good. I’ll go grab my purse and put up the ladder.”

“I’ll put up the ladder.” Felix cut in, already moving to close it.

A frown tugged at the corner of her lips. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. They like their tools to be put back a certain way.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks, then.”

Allegra watched Marinette walk off, feeling a fresh wave of determination.. Gosh, they were already acting like they were in love with each other. Well, Felix was at least. Marinette was about that kind to anyone. Either way, things were going smoothly now, and it should only take a carefully-timed push for the two to really get the ball rolling.

Valentine’s Day, Marinette and Felix being dressed up, both of them being alone together while dressed up, the sudden closeness- finally, all of her plans were coming together. The only thing that could possibly make this better was if Cupid himself came out to see them swoon over each other.

That wasn’t going to happen, of course, but it didn’t need to, because Allegra was going to be glad to take his place.

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#felinette #Marinette #Felix Culpa #Quantic Kids #New Girl on the Block #Rosemary AU #Miraculous Ladybug

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milks-writings · 3 years

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✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ ｡⋆♡° ✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ ｡⋆♡° ✫

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ PAIRING: Atsumu Miya x Male!Reader

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ WARNINGS: mention of stabbing, Hurt buT LOTS OF CUDDLES AND COMFORT AFTERWARD, mention of death (meaning of the red anemone)

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ REQUEST: all right so.. atsumu ⭐️ can you please write m!reader and him being teammates and reader being a big friend of osamu. he knows that reader is gay and in love with his brother, so he always like.. quietly supports him and takes care of him, helping with reader’s crush on his chaotic brother :D so imagine a training camp mhm, the team spends all the time together and reader has all this *gay panic* since atsumu is always there, near him (i also just can tell atsumu is damn handsy person) atsumu is mocking reader (in a loving way of course, cuz he crushes over a sweet boy himself) since reader is that shy and cute, but he doesn’t understand his words hurt him because reader is too sensitive to his words and actually thinks that atsumu is making fun of him. so just one day without any intense atsumu makes reader cry with his mocking and like.. he has no idea what to do and he’s like “eey.. wait.. wait! samu! he’s crying! what should i do?!” :0 please gimme some hurt/comfort 🤍

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ A/N: OMG YES ATSUMU REQUEST HASHDFHIXOANSDF THANKS SO MUCH I LOVE THIS MAN--

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ Masterlist

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ Scenario: After one loss would always follow one win

Shuffling over the court and leaving some squeaking noises behind was almost a calming sound that came to your ears, echoing through the big volleyball court. Between the two sides, of your teams side and the other teams side was only a net that divided the thick air. There would be always one team at least one point ahead, and depending on who it was, the air seemed to be bearable or rather toxic and suffocating.

It was only a training camp, yet the feelings were fatal. Each point would cause the opposite team to get panic, to fill up with the anxious feeling that screams ‘Just one point’

No one would give up so easily. No one wanted to give up so easily. It was just a training camp, yet it felt like their life depended on this whole game. Each point felt like the string was about to just cut into a half, but no one knew who would get the longer string since the scissors were wandering on the string, waiting for some random moment to finally break the nervous atmosphere and end this whole game that drove everyone insane. The heavy breaths filled the court with some kind of beat, since at this point everyone just wanted to rest, yet no one was ready to give up already. Until the last bit of power would they fight.

For a brief moment, you thought, only a brief second, Atsumu would look back at you. The tiring game must’ve made you delusional. It was quite some while since you guys played against such a great team, also known as Itachiyama. Osamu had told you quite often that Atsumu never really labelled himself with a sexuality, giving you at least some rising hope. Honestly, your crush towards him felt like trying to take care of an almost dead flower. And not just one flower, it was the well known red anemone that symbolizes death or the act of forsaken love. For some reason, it never wanted to open up. The petals stayed up, risen to the sky and not showing the truth behind the facade of the red petals. The secret was just laying on the stigma of the flower, waiting to get opened like a present and to outshine everyone's appearances. But as long as the flower wouldn’t open, the love felt one sided.

The last point felt like a long moment of silence. It wasn’t a real game, yet it was laying heavily on your shoulders. Your team lost. Kita would be disappointed, but you just knew that he wouldn’t scold you. As a Libero it was literally your duty to keep the ball over the floor. Even if it was one centimetre, one finger between the ball and the floor, anything could be done to win this god damn game. For a moment, your mind tricked you into thinking that this was an actual game, but seeing the others just walking off with the words “thanks for the training game.”

Osamu already had taken place beside you with two bottles of water, passing you one of the ones he held while just letting out a small sigh. “That was intense” He admitted, and if he said such a thing he really meant it. He was fucking right. This game was intense.

The water slowly went down your throat, giving you a cool down and filling your senses with some refreshing thoughts, among with the thought of Atsumu.

That’s right, the boy you have a crush on, the boy who is the twin of one of your closest friends, Osamu Miya. It was like your thoughts had to manifest the boy that filled your mind with worries but also with dreams you never thought would come true. “Hey!” The setters hand landed on your shoulder, making your cheeks heat up and leaving a pinkish blush on them, almost like it was naturally after a hard game. But sadly the blush didn’t blend in, it rather made your red exhausted face ever worse. You could swear, for a moment the wind hit the anemone, almost opening the flowers with the sweet sound of the wind blowing but somehow the windflower stayed closed, not letting you enter yet.

“Ya wanna grab some food with me and ‘Samu?” Atsumu asked you, making you slowly nod in agreement.

It has been a curse or a blessing that Atsumu always suggested you three to hang out. Being around those Twins was like walking on a thin rope, over the water with shaky feet. You could never know what would happen, if the rope would just tear apart or if you would fall into the water out of balance and if anyone would safe you. “I didn’t even agree, jerk!” Osamu huffed out at Atsumu’s statement. And there they went again. Barking at each other like two mad dogs, yet they didn’t rip their heads off since they still loved each other as siblings. Osamu soon snapped out of it though, and gave you all his attention again. “Ya want onigiri?” His eyebrow raised in sync with his words, like the words were pulling it slowly up and the question mark set an end to the pulling, but instead tilted his head to the side. With slowly moving your head up and down as a nod, you answered his question. It was the first day of the training camp so the left overs from the drive to the training camp were still good and it would’ve been a pity to let them get bad. “Yer just tryna to get him fat!” Atsumu snapped at Osamu, somewhat sounding mad for something. You weren’t sure if Atsumu preferred skinny people -- or if he was trying to make sure that Osamu wouldn’t feed you too much so you could still eat together. Nevertheless, you didn’t take it personally, yet. Just brushed it off and moved on, thinking that nothing too bad could happen with ignoring that. “No I am not! Back off pisshair!” Osamu complained with a hiss. Sometimes he could only wonder how you could fall in love with such an idiot like him. “Let’s grab some food” You finally broke the heavy and almost hatred atmosphere that was among you three thanks to the twins. No one could blame them though. It was just a typical conversation between two siblings.

A small wind seemed to have blown over the flower when you three were sitting in the small cafeteria and chatted. The anemone was about to open, to show it’s real colour, but you got hit with the train of disappointment as soon as Atsumu let his guards down again and begun to mock you. “Yer aren’t in yer top form today huh?” Atsumu smirk only grew with the last words, beginning to push you into the corner of just a breakdown. “Not really” You honestly admitted. It always had been him mocking you, him pushing you off your edge emotionally. With pressing your lips together you hoped to swallow the slightly painful comment down your throat, but nothing seemed to help. “Yer gotta be more self confident!” Atsumu implied, almost complained about you. He wanted to help you. For the three people on the table, Osamu, Atsumu and you it was very clear that Atsumu cared about you, but the way he would say things would be sometimes sharp, like a stab in your heart. But in reality he would be patting your head and stabbing your negative feelings instead of you. “Listen, it’s not easy you know” Your voice laid hoarse in the room, creating a short yet uncomfortable silence. Just when Osamu was about to butt in, Atsumu had taken advantage of the situation. “What if yer-” Just as Atsumu was about to continue his sentence, the tears that you had swallowed down along with the rice balls had just came up, running down your cheeks. The mocking sometimes got overwhelming to you. All you wanted were sweet words, but all you got was sweet mocks. Of course, it was probably his way to tell you that he liked you… or not. “No no pretty boy don’t ya cry!” Atsumu’s voice was filled with worries and confusion, immediately jumping up and sitting besides you. Osamu, who sat on the other side of you, just let Atsumu be. He should take care of you. He was the one who thought that mocking was a way for flirting and a way of showing someone his love. “Osamu what should I do?” he asked confused, but his twin just carelessly kept eating the Onigiri, like you two had been ghosts.

The tears that had been just streaming down your cheeks were like a soft, yet meaningful wind that had blown over the red windflower. With the soft wind blow, the dead petals fell down onto the ground, and the flower opened like a present, showing of its beautiful colourful petals. They were glowing under the rain, almost like the sun kept on shining behind the clouds. If a human eye would get to see the bright presence of the flower, they could forget for a second about the rain that was pouring down. And if someone, who saw the flower opening up and showing their beauty, would see that it was actually a white anemone, just waiting to show their sincerity.

“Hey hey hey- I didn’t mean to hurt you!” Atsumu said while getting a hold of your hands, “I really like you, you know and I tried to flirt with you” It was like he begun to rant his heart out, not trying to find an excuse to hurt you, but to explain the situation to you. To make you understand better, to cheer you a little up. “Let’s uh… Let’s get some food, huh? Or a warm tea?” Atsumu offered, not letting you talk until now. The tears that had been streaming down your face became less and less after seeing the not red, but actually white anemone in his eyes. The rain stopped.

“You… you do like me?” Your voice was dipped in some spark of hope, and also sealed with some confusion.

“Do ya want tea?” “Atsumu do you really like me or did you use it to cheer me up?” “I am not sure,” “You have to give me an honest answer. Yes or no.” With a sigh the boy finally gave in. It was useless to fight with you now. “Yeah kinda like ya” a small pout formed on his lips, seeming to be rather a little embarrassed than pleased by saying that.

“I like you too” There was nothing to save or to destroy now. You had been at your end, emotionally, and Atsumu also just opened up like a book, letting you read whatever had been written deep down in his feelings and mind. “Yer want cuddles?”

That question took you off guard.

Cuddles was the last thing you would expect him to ask you, but could you say no?

With a small sob that had been still saved from the crying just a few minutes ago your head slowly motioned to a yes, making his goofy smile grow. “Good thing we share a room!” He cheered, ruffling your hair.

After that sentence you can guess what happened.

Lots of loving cuddles and hugs were exchanged this night.

After one loss would always follow one win.

«𝐛𝐲 𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞»

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babylooneytoonz · 3 years

Text

a little bit of you, a little bit of me

— pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

�� summary: Tommy and you had a one night stand right when Tommy was 18 and you were 17 and you fell pregnant with a baby girl- but wanted to convince your husband it’s his- so Tommy grew up seeing his daughter every day grow up in the street and with her other dad. And on her eighteenth birthday she comes into the garrison for a drink with a purpose to meet Tommy.

This is requested by an anonymous, although the request was slightly different, I have modified it a bit and I hope you like it.🤍

A/N- I just modified it a bit because I am really not good with the timelines so there might a slight difference in the age . Let's just assume this is set in 1908 which I suppose is when Tommy would be 18? and then later in 1926 when Grace had been shot and all [end of season 3 - beginning season 4] I'm not sure and my math sucks please correct me but I think Tommy was born in 1890 or something I could be seriously wrong though.

— warnings: mentions of extra marrital relationship, trigger warnings, unplanned pregnancy , a lot of angst (Please do not read if you're not comfortable, thank you.)

*Please reblog if you like it, do not repost or claim my work as yours.

[My Masterlist]

You were only seventeen when your parents succumbed to bankruptcy and disease, leaving you an orphan, an only child; but not without ensuring that you were married off to a young man. You weren't in love with him, or with anyone else, and thus, it was easy for you to accept.

With the war not yet begun, you and your husband moved to Birmingham City, hoping to find yourself a place to live at half the rent as compared to London.

And it was during that time, when you met Tommy Shelby, a young lad who lived four houses away from yours.

It was innocent at first, just a glance through the window, or a mindless bump against each other on the road which then developed into greetings and then smiles until finally, one day, when you found yourself sat by the docks late one evening, shielded by unwanted, prying eyes with Tommy Shelby next to you, talking about life in general.

You opened up, telling him about how you were never lucky enough to find someone to love, and to marry for love. Although you had utmost respect for your husband, you couldn't bring yourself to love him, yet. But it wasn't all sad talks.

Sometime, in between the morose and sad revelations, a lighter topic broke out, and they two of you began talking of your favourite pass times, your hobbies and the most embarassing moments of your life.

"Don't you have to go back home, [Y/N]? Isn't someone bloody waiting back home?" Tommy raised an eyebrow, his eyes glistening with amusement and you snorted, pressing your index finger into his chest playfully as you pushed yourself up.

"So, Tommy, what are we friends now?" You remembered smirking, the corners of your plump lips curving into a devilish grin as you stood up, wiping the back of your skirt with your palm.

"Do you want us to be?" He smirked back, and reached forward trying to grab the hem of your skirt, but you dodged, biting your lip as you shook your head, running your hand through your hair.

"Friends don't grab a lady's skirt, Mr. Shelby," you curled your lips teasingly, and taking Tommy by surprise, your fingers slid through his matted hair ruffling them up, before you darted off, the sound of your running the only voice audible to Tommy as he kept sitting by the docks, grinning.

That was only the beginning; and the flirt only rose after that, it didn't die down, no matter how much you knew it was wrong. You couldn't help yourself be attracted to him.

"[Y/N], are you going out, eh?"

You stopped, mid steps, your coat halfway through your arms as you slowly turned around and gave your husband a nervous smile.

"We're out of bread, and tomatoes, and eggs. I thought I'd stock up for two days." You looked at him, glancing at him through your fluttering eyelids, and he simply nodded, pulling a lit cigarette up to his lips, "Don't be gone long, love. It's going to get dark outside."

You grabbed your purse, and fixing your hair with your hands, you pulled open the front door and ran out of your home. You looked left, and right before you crossed the road to the other side and slid through a cramped alley, ducking underneath the clothes that were hanging to dry off from ropes.

Finally, Tommy was in sight.

His hair were disheveled, and his shirt had dust stains on it but you didn't mind; he was perfect in your eyes. You smiled, parting your lips, your tongue sliding out of your mouth as you moistened your lower lip. Your walking turned to running, and the next second, you were standing chest to chest with him, his hand fixed on the low of your back, holding you against him.

"You—"

"Don't, Tommy. Don't make me change my bloody mind," you whispered immediately, cutting him off.

His palm came to rest on your cheek, his thumb stroking against your supple flesh, his blues fixed on yours. You could see the ocean in your eyes, and although you were guilty in that moment for willingly be ready to give yourself to this boy, your guilt was far less than the feelings your heart held for him.

"This one time, Tommy—" you whispered, placing your palm against the fabric of his dusty shirt and balling it into your fist, pulling him closer, you blinked, giving him a nod.

It all flew by in a buzz then. One moment, the two of you were laughing like little kids, chasing after a butterfly, your hand entwined in his, as the two of you ran through the alleys one after the other. Tommy pulled you into one of the structures, made out of bright red brick walls, until he shut the door and pressed you against it, both his hands gripping your neck, his lips pressed to you.

Kisses, moans and gasps. Feelings, passion and unshed tears.

"Can you leave him for me?" Tommy whispered against your ear as he undressed you slowly, his fingers sliding over your bare velvet like skin, making heat and current radiate all through you.

Amongst moans and archs of of pleasure, the crowning and the curling of your toes and Tommy showed you the stars, as he filled you up completely, you moving in sync with him, like dancing to a slow song, you couldn't help but wish.. that maybe you had met him a few months back.

"You know I can't. It's too late now.." Would things have been different then? Would he have married you and then left for war?

"I know love, I know. I'm sorry I didn't find you before." He moaned into your ear, his fingers tracing your spine.

"Tommy.." You threw your head back, your fingers tightly clutching the sweaty boy's head in front of you, as you felt him teasingly bite you on the nape of your neck, all the while, his movements now becoming sloppier inside of you, and the two of you came, and collapsed in each other's arms.

The two of you remained entwined in each other, holding on to each other like either of you would slip into the sands of time. Finally, Tommy's hold on you relaxed, and he brought his fingers to your face, stroking through your sweaty hair, that were sticking to your face.

"This is goodbye then, love?"

You looked up at him, your eyes shriveled with unshed tears, and inexplicable emotions as you swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded, "I will still see you, only the world will never know. Maybe someday.."

Tommy was true to his words, and he never let anyone find out, about that one slip of the moment the two of you had shared, that had led to the creation of the light of your life.

Days turned to weeks, and weeks flew by, turning into months and Tommy watched you from afar as you walked down the street with a friend of yours whose name was Greta. Your head hung low, your stomach bloomed and swollen, the glow on your face bright enough to compete with the brightness of the sun. He was happy for you. You deserved to be happy, and he was okay, even if it wasn't with him.

Upon seeing you with a smile on your radiant face as you entered the bakery, Tommy could not control himself, something that he had been doing for months now at the sight of you. He pushed open the bakery door, with a tiny jingle of the bell, and that caused you to turn towards the door, your eyes immediately widening at the sight of him.

He kept his eyes fixed on you for a second before he looked away, and fixed himself on the counter right next to you, as he began looking around, looking for anything he could buy and not be suspected.

You pulled the coins out of your purse and handed them to the bakery owner, and with one glance at him, nodding in courtesy, you turned away, hurriedly walking out of it. Your steps were fast, as fast a six months pregnant young lady could walk and thus, it was easy for Tommy to catch up to you.

"Greta," you looked at your friend, your eyes widened, and the girl next to you smiled.

"Go," she whispered and looked around, just to see if there were any prying eyes that were looking at the two of you.

You slowly stepped into the alley, and Tommy followed until he had you in a corner, and his eyes fell to your stomach. You parted your lips but all that came out was thin air.

"I'm sorry, love. I couldn't bloody keep myself away from you. You look beautiful."

You gave him a tiny, lingering smile, fluttering your lashes as you looked down at your belly and then back at him, "Liar. I feel humongous."

"You're a sight for my sore eyes, love," his words were breaking you down, piece by piece. The wall that you had created, the thin wall of what was right and what was wrong was slowly crumbling down again. Your lips ached, your body ached, for his touch, once again. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Finally, you opened your eyes again, and with a finality, you said, "Find yourself a nice girl, Tom. I want you to be happy."

A woman he did find. As time flew by, Tommy did find love again in your best friend, Greta Jurossi, and you were happy for them. You lay in your bed, your sheets coiled over you, covering up your modesty as the midwife examined you. Waves of pain flushed through you, causing you to ball the fabric of the bedding and the towels and let out cries of anguish. Your husband was downstairs, walking up and down; his shoulders tense, listening to your cries of pain.

After fourteen hours, you finally held your little black haired girl to your chest. Your heart filled with unconditional love; as you kissed the mass of her hair, you realised you couldn't love anyone else like you loved this girl.

Tommy held Greta's hand as the two of them entered their spot under the bridge. He pushed her to the wall, keeping a hand at the back of her head so she didn't hit it against the wall as he kissed her and finally made love to her.

"Why do you look like you've seen a bloody ghost, love?" Tommy's eyebrows perked up, as he pulled out a cigarette and flicked it to his lips, lighting it with a match.

"Not a ghost, Tommy, it's just that Marigold keeps us up all night long, she is such a fussy babe," Greta sighed, smiling softly when the image of your baby girl flashed infront of her eyes. She was in love with that little angel, but she knew she was Tommy's, you had told her this as you were her bestfriend. She looked down at her hands momentarily before looking up at Tommy, pursing her lips. She knew this man, and you, better than anyone in the world and she could read your faces like a book.

"Sometimes, I wonder," she hopped off the place she was seated at, pulling her skirts properly at place before she bent down as pulled up her stockings. Tommy took a drag of the cigarette and flicked it away, stepping on it, "What would have been if she would have left him."

"She made her decision, Greta, and I respect it," Tommy called out and she flinched, slowly turning towards him, chewing on the insides of her cheeks.

"Still, it's tragic, isn't it? Watching her everyday and knowing she can never be yours?" She whispered.

"I've made my peace with it." Tommy grumbled, under his breath, shaking his head as he threw his hand towards her and she accepted, entwining their fingers together as he pulled her into him.

"She made me swear something, but I can't keep it inside me anymore. This secret.. I feel like you deserve to know. Will you keep it?" Greta suddenly stopped walking and turned towards him, placing her hand delicately over his chest, and giving it a soft stroke.

"What is it, love?" He asked, his voice husky, and low. He kept his eyes fixed on her, like fireflies drawn to a source of light, that light being the impassivity of her words.

"Marigold is yours, Tommy. She's your daughter. She's got your eyes, and that sweet little smile."

Tommy parted his lips, as if wanting to say something, just anything but he felt like someone had choked him. He couldn't speak. No words flew out of his plump, trembling lips. Waves of anxiety suddenly flushed through him, and he clenched his fists, drawing his hands away from her as a gnawing emptiness filled him up.

Nothing felt worse than the bitter, aching slice his heart felt; as though someone had shot him through his heart, and the bullet was now lodged through. Yet he couldn't bring himself to hate you, although you had never told him, not once in these nine or so months that the baby you were carrying was his.

He laid back down, his head resting against the hard pillow. His mind was intoxicated, his thinking fuzzy yet he couldn't throw out the anguish he was feeling, no matter how hard he tried. The girl he had grown to love, the girl who had pulled him out of the feelings he had for you, the girl who had breathed life into his cold heart once again, the girl he wanted to marry, destiny snatched her away from him like a joke. Was he cursed to not be with the one his heart desired the most?

With a heavy heart, and a tormented soul, Thomas Shelby and his brothers left for war.

The war lasted for years, and so did Tommy, and every single time he felt like death was lurking close by, it never really touched him. When war was over, Tommy Shelby returned a different man, a man with a hollow heart, mind tormented completely differently now. He could hear the shovels in his mind, the clawing of metal against metal. He returned from war, and so did your husband and as the years passed, Tommy watched his daughter grow up, from a young little petal into a full blooming flower, and he never said a word. It was like a silent promise made to you, to protect your honour, something he had sworn with his life.

As the years passed, the hollow void left by you and by Greta slowly died down, and Tommy found himself a woman called Grace. She was enchanting, and she made Tommy feel whole again, complete again, although the shovels never stopped, no matter how hard he tried. Yet, Tommy didn't stop silently watching over the little girl that lived across the street, Marigold.

"Tommy, love?" Grace asked him one day, as she rolled over in bed, the sheets wrapped around her tiny frame and she laid her hand on his rising and falling chest, her fingers tenderly stroking his flesh, "Does that girl mean something to you? I've seen you look at her when she steps out with her mother out on the street, your face lights up."

Tommy didn't reply and instead buried his face into her side, letting himself get lost in her sweet fragrance, soaking him up. When he didn't answer, Grace didn't ask again, but the question remained at the back of her mind, until the day she left Tommy and went to London, breaking his heart all over again.

Just three months later, Tommy found himself standing at the back, his head hung low, staring at the wet soiled ground as your husband's coffin was lowered to the ground. You sniffled, your palm pressed to your lips, as you pulled Marigold closer to you, letting the thirteen year old child grieve, and cry her heart out as her father was lowered to the ground.

As the guests started dispersing, the two of you kept sitting in the front, on chairs that had been put out for you by someone kind. Tommy slowly walked up to you, hesitant and reluctant. Marigold was the first one to look up and Tommy felt his heart swell at the sight of her. It was like he was staring at himself, the same ocean like eyes, her hair just the same amount of dark like Tommy's were, the nose was, however, you and so were the lips. This was the first time Tommy felt he had seen her this close, and the more he saw her, the more he felt how she was the most beautiful girl he had ever laid his eyes across.

You looked up then, and a faint, weak smile crossed your lips,"You came, Tommy? I never thought.."

"If you need anything, I'll always be here for you," that was the only words he could bring himself to say to you for he had by now, suffered so much, he had leaned to lock the young boy that had fallen in love with you, away in a corner. You watched, your eyes cloudy, as he left the cemetery, and you weeks later, left Birmingham, never to look back again.

1926,

The warm liquid rushed down the canal in Tommy's throat. His sleeves were rolled up, his hair messy and tumultuous, dark bags already forming under his eyes as he has been working mostly through the nights. Garrison was as usual, crowded but the Shelby room provided him with the solitude and the peace that he didn't find anywhere else.

It was just then when a knock resonated from the door and his head snapped upwards as Curly poked his head through.

"What's gone wrong now, Curly?" He said, dryly.

"Tommy, a young girl who goes by the name Marigold says she has some unfinished business with you?" He knew instantly who she was. He hesitated for a bit, his fists clenching slightly before he nodded, "Let her in and close the door, Curly."

Marigold bit her lip, yes she had a purpose to be here and yes, she had thought she had motivated herself enough to finally do this, yet one look at the man seated in front of her made her insides churn with nervousness. This was much difficult as it appeared to be.

"Take a seat, Miss.." Tommy pointed towards the empty couch in front of him and she nodded, absentmindedly sitting down with her hands now resting against her lap, "Marigold [Y/L/N]."

Tommy raised an eyebrow, regarding her through his cold, ocean like eyes, "You don't go by your father's name?"

Marigold didn't reply; instead she gave him a knowing smile and Tommy leaned forward, letting his elbows rest against the table, his hand absentmindedly grabbing his glass of whiskey, "Curly said you had some, eh, unfinished business?"

She nodded, her fingers toying nervously with other.

"Care to walk me home, Mr. Shelby? We can talk while we walk."

"Alright then," Tommy nodded as he stood up downing the drink in one go and began reaching for his coat, "I'll walk you home then," Tommy's eyes flickered as he waited for Marigold to walk out first, and once she did, he closed the door behind her and walked out of the Garrison.

Tommy couldn't describe the feeling; although there were no words, there was a warmth. Right next to him, his little girl, now not so little anymore, walked. Slowly, he craned his neck towards her as he pulled out a smoke and flung it to his lips, "How is your mother?"

"Growing old, that's her words, not mine."

Tommy smiled, looking up at the sky, his eyes fixing on the moon for a split second before he looked at her again, "I'm sure she is just exaggerating, yeah."

"Mr. Shelby, it mind sound like I am poking my bloody nose into your business, but I think I deserve to know. There was something between my mother and you once, wasn't there?" She suddenly asked, as blunt as a knife. She had the same fire burning in her eyes, like that in her real father's.

Tommy faltered upon hearing her words though, for he hadn't expected her to ask him this. He paused for a minute, looking at her with a perplexity, he wasn't sure how to answer her. She waited for a second and finally, reached out, grabbing the lit cigarette from his hand and flung it to her lips, taking a drag of it.

"Why would you think that ey?" Tommy blew out.

"Come on, Mr. Shelby, I'm not a little girl any more. I remember you at my father's funeral, the way you looked at my mother, even my dad didn't look at her that way. Come with me," Marigold suddenly grabbed Tommy's hand rather inappropriately if anyone was looking at the interaction and she began walking in a fast pace towards the building now right in front of her eyes.

"Hey, will you bloody slow down?" Tommy tried, but she was headstrong, and the grip of her on Tommy's hand was strong, although Tommy could pullout his hand in one jerk, yet he didn't. This felt personal and it somehow, warmed his heart.

Marigold finally came to pause, her hand letting Tommy's wrist go as her hand flung to her chest, and she began gasping like a fish for air, looking at Tommy.

"Now are you going to answer me? My mum's asleep upstairs by the way." The girl bit her lip, looking from Tommy, pointing her finger upwards, and Tommy realized that she had brought him to her house.

"Did your.. mother.. ever remarry?"

Tommy finally muttered, in a low voice although he had no bloody idea of whether he was ready to hear the answer or not.

"No, she didn't, Mr. Shelby." Tommy felt he could breathe again.

"Is that the unfinished business you wanted to talk about? Because its late and I don't want your mother worrying about you, Marigold," Tommy's eyes remained stoic, not a sign of emotion reflecting in his ice like radiant face. "Goodnight then," He turned away, letting his hands slide into the pockets of his coat when she called out from behind him, making him freeze on spot.

"I know you're my father, Mr. Shelby. That makes me Marigold Shelby, doesn't it?"

Tommy turned around, slow as a snail, and fixated his eyes on her. She had half the door open and she was leaning against it, her chin resting against the back of her hand with which she was holding the door and smiling.

"What did you say?" Tommy almost choked out, surprised.

"Aunt Greta left me some letters, for when I would turn eighteen. She left you some too, if you want?" She slid her hand into the pocket of her trench coat and pulled out a letter that still had a seal on it. Slowly, she extended her hand and Tommy looked from her to the letter, his hand trembling as he took it. It had Greta's signature on it. He blinked, an inner turmoil forming inside of him. Finally, he gave up, and handed the letter back to her.

"Won't you read it?" She asked, confused.

Tommy sighed, "It's better for the dead to stay dead."

"Christ, Marigold, what's gotten into you?" You frowned and watched your eighteen your old act like a five year old, her arms crossed against her chest, as she blinked, impatiently, "Mum, can you hurry up and get dressed? We are going to miss the 7 o'clock show."

"Alright, alright. I'm getting ready. Don't make a fuss, love."

Now, an hour later, you were stack in an almost empty movie hall, watching the black and white movie that Marigold was so interested in watching. And next to you on the right hand side was the man you had least expected to be there, Thomas Shelby.

"She planned this all, didn't she?" You whispered, leaning towards him. It was only days back Marigold had told you everything, especially about Greta's letters and you had been shocked. Now here he was, days after the revelation, and it couldn't have been a coincidence.

"You know I can't bloody say no to her. If it were up to you, I would have never known she was mine." Tommy whispered back, and you stiffened.

"Greta played a nice game," you drawled, absentmindedly turning towards Tommy, who was looking at you with a look of amusement in his eyes.

"What?"

"You're still beautiful. And look sixteen."

You flushed, your cheeks turning a scarlet red, and you were thankful you were in a dimly lit movie hall, and he couldn't really see. If amazed you, how almost nineteen years after you had ended things with Tommy Shelby, he still gave you butterflies, like you were eighteen again,"Jesus, Tommy stop. You're not eighteen anymore, and neither am I."

"Jesus, mum, dad, can the two of you please stop? I'm trying to watch something." The eighteen year old protested, but unbeknownst to the two of you, she had an amused, content smile playing against her lips, as she forced herself to look away.

You glanced at Tommy, and without uttering another word, you slowly sunk into him, letting your head rest against his shoulder, and your hand snuck into his, your fingers entwining with his.

If the two of you were eighteen and seventeen again, who would have thought that it would take losing Greta, and losing your husband to finally end up in Tommy's arms nineteen years later?

What made you smile, however was the fact that he was still the same; he still smelled the same like he did before the same lingering smell of burnt cigarettes and alcohol, mixed with a strong scent of musk; his hands were the same amount of calloused and warm, and your hands still fit perfectly into his. You were sure his lips would too, but maybe that was a thing for another time. You wanted to enjoy this night, watching the film, as a family of three.

Permanent Tommy Shelby Taglist:

@really-dont-forget-it @thepeakygurl @baumarvel @captivatedbycillianmurphy @nyotamalfoy @peakyfooky @buckyxreader99 @theflamecrystal @milea

Want to be added? Please ask, message or comment.✨

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders

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sohotthateveryonedied · 4 years

Text

No Matter What

Read here on AO3!!

Summary:

Bruce figures out that his son isn't straight from an early age.

That doesn't make him love him any less.

- Eight Years Old -

Bruce is finally starting to get a hang of this parenting thing.

The first few months were rough, there’s no disputing that. Bruce lost track of how many times he panicked and called Leslie Thompkins whenever Dick burst into tears over something and Alfred wasn’t home. Not to mention all the times when Alfred would leave Bruce on his own for dinner, insisting that one must learn how to raise a child without a butler to help. Bruce fed the kid burnt chicken nuggets and garlic bread for two nights straight. Now, though? Bruce is immensely proud of how far he and Dick have come. He’s even taken to attending PTA meetings, if only for the free coffee and doughnuts. He hears the front door open right on time, then wet boots hitting the floor. Dick had a half day today to make room for meet-the-teacher night later. Bruce isn’t looking forward to spending two hours sitting in a chair made for eight-year-olds, listening to a teacher in plastic pearls talk about an elementary schooler’s oh-so challenging curriculum. At least he’s only got the one; he has no intention of having more kids after Dick. Bruce busies himself with his mostly unburnt slice of toast, one ear trained on the footsteps through the foyer accompanied by unceasing chatter that Bruce has grown quite fond of over the months. “—and then they let us outside for recess even though it was raining, and I went on the swings and my hair got all wet and it was so cool.” “That explains the muddy clothes,” Alfred says. “Sorry, Alf. I’m not immune to mud puddles.” “It would appear so, Master Dick.”

The two of them enter the kitchen, Dick working his elbows out of his yellow rain slicker to reveal the school uniform beneath. His cheeks are rosy, his eyes bright. “Hiya, Bruce!”

“Hey, champ. How was school?” “It was awesome. It was raining all day and at recess there were a ton of puddles all over the playground and a million worms. I didn’t touch them though, ‘cause the teacher said not to.” “What snack would you like, Master Dick?” Alfred asks, taking Dick’s discarded raincoat and folding it over his arm. “Can you do ants on a log?” “Coming right up, sir.” Dick heaves himself up on the bar stool beside Bruce, his sock feet kicking against the lower cupboard. Bruce spreads marmalade over his toast. “Tell me more about school. Any fights today?” “Nope,” Dick says proudly, flashing his gapped teeth. Dick and another boy got into a scuffle on the first day over a comment about whether Dick’s parents being from the circus meant they were part monkey. It’s a miracle Dick only gave the kid a nosebleed and didn’t break anything. The principal let Dick off with a warning since it was his first time at a normal school, but Bruce has a feeling the only reason he wasn’t expelled was because his guardian is the most powerful man in Gotham City. Bruce had a stern talk with Dick when they got home about the importance of controlling one’s actions. Traveling the world in a circus train car doesn’t do much to help one’s impulse control. He also banned Dick from watching television for the rest of the night, but Dick’s crocodile tears swayed him to balance it out by letting him have ice cream before dinner. That’s good parenting, right? “I even made a friend,” Dick says. “Oh? What are they like?” “His name is Caleb and his desk is right next to mine, so we talked during reading time. Then he gave me some of his chocolate during lunch and we played on the swings together at recess.” “Ah, the wonders of childhood friendship,” Alfred says from where he’s slicing up a celery stalk at the other end of the counter. He sounds relieved, and Bruce finds himself matching it. Dick has been at Gotham Elementary for almost a week and hasn’t made a single friend until now. Bruce can’t tell if that is more because of Dick’s circus background or because he is a tan-skinned boy with the barest of Romani accents attending a predominantly white private school. Sometimes (all the time) Bruce loathes being associated with Gotham’s high society. If you’re not white, straight, and rich, you are automatically shunned in their minds. “He sounds great, Dick.” “Yeah! And he’s got really pretty eyes too. I can’t tell if they’re brown or green, but they’re sparkly like glitter.” Bruce arches an eyebrow. “You must like him a lot.” He takes a bite of his toast, making eye contact with Alfred over the boy’s head. Alfred doesn’t react but for a twitch of his mustache. Dick nods, focus switched over to the plate Alfred slides in front of him. Dick takes a celery stick and picks off the first raisin coated in peanut butter, licking it off his thumb. “I hope he talks to me again tomorrow. Alfred, can I bring an extra snack to lunch tomorrow so I can share it with him?” Alfred smiles. “Of course. I will pack a second cupcake in your lunchbox tomorrow morning just for him.” “Thanks, Alf.” Dick goes right back to eating his ants on a log, cheerful as ever, completely unaware of the swarm of question marks buzzing around in Bruce’s head. Huh. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

- Eleven Years Old - Bruce gets home from a three-hour business meeting, his sandpapery eyes aching to close and stay shut for...let’s go with ten years? That should be enough. He loosens his tie and prepares to go upstairs to his bedroom where he’ll spend the next decade of his life hibernating, until he sees his ward on the living room sofa. Dick is lying on his stomach with his face buried in a throw pillow, as if he’s waiting for the sofa to swallow him whole. Must have been a bad day if he’s not sliding down banisters and flipping over chairs like usual. Sighing, Bruce goes over. “Dick? You alive over there?” “Mmph.” At least he’s conscious. Bruce sits on the arm of the couch, shaking Dick’s thin shoulder. “Come on, kiddo. Use your words.” “Mmph.” “Bad day, then?” Dick nods. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” Dick shakes his head. Bruce sits back with a frown. “Alfred?” he calls. Alfred pokes his head in. “Yes, Master Bruce?” Bruce gestures to their anguished preteen. “It would seem that our lad had a rough day at school. He wouldn’t tell me what, but I’m making his favorite casserole for dinner. Hopefully that will perk him up.” Bruce turns back to Dick, who hasn’t moved. “C’mon, Dickie. Sit up so I can see your face.” Reluctantly, Dick forces himself upright with one last groan into his pillow. His hair is mussed, standing up on one side. There’s a pillow crease on his cheek. He sits back against the sofa, miserable. “Better.” Bruce prods Dick’s ribs which earns him a giggle, goading the kid into sliding over a few inches so Bruce can sit beside him. Dick leans into his side immediately and Bruce puts his arm around him. “Now, tell me what’s got you down.” “I want to transfer schools.” “How come?” As far as he’s known until now, Dick has loved middle school. His childhood took a bad turn when his parents’ ropes snapped, but preteen life is at a good start. Until now. Dick’s gaze is trained on his sneakers, kicking them where they hang over the edge of the couch. “Some kids in my science class were talking crap about me.” “Don’t say crap.” “Can I go to a new school? Please?” “What did those kids say about you?” Dick picks at a dime-size hole in his jeans. “They called me gay,” he says quietly. Bruce tightens his arm around the boy, his heart panging. Of course someone had to bully Bruce’s kid. As if his life hasn’t already been hard enough without stupid teenagers making it worse. “I wasn’t even doing anything wrong. I was just talking to my lab partner, and the guys at the next table over started whispering about us. Then they started throwing papers.” “Did you tell the teacher?” “No. But I know she noticed. Everyone did. She just didn’t do anything about it.” That sets Bruce’s blood to a boil. Teachers have a responsibility to protect their students, no matter what. What gives her the right to turn a blind eye to bullying, just because a couple of students might not fit the agreed-upon standards of “perfect” upper class society? “I’ll set up an appointment with the principal,” Bruce decides. Dick’s eyes get wide. “Bruce, no. Please. It’s fine, really. I don’t want this to turn into a big deal.” “What did you do when it happened?” Dick shrugs. “Nothing. My lab partner stopped talking to me, so I just asked to go to the bathroom and didn’t come back until the bell rang.” Bruce sighs. Middle schoolers are the worst, every last one of them. (Except for Dick, of course; he is perfect.) “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Kids can be cruel—especially at your age, when they start learning new words that they don’t understand the way they should. They think some words are insults or something to be ashamed of when they’re not. Most kids grow out of this. Too many don’t.” “People suck,” Dick mutters. “I don’t even know why they were saying all that stuff. I’m not...I’m not like that” Bruce bites his cheek. He’s going to have to be careful about this. “Dick, do you know what being gay means?” “Duh. It’s when two guys date each other. I’m not stupid.” “I know you’re not stupid. But gay can mean a lot of things. Men can like other men, just as women can love other women. Like Kate, for instance. Then there are bisexual and pansexual people who love all genders, and asexuals who don’t like either.” Thank god Bruce thought ahead and read some LGBTQ+ research books all those years ago when he first began to suspect that Dick wasn’t heterosexual. “And transgender is when someone doesn’t identify with the gender they were assigned at birth. Sometimes people feel more like a man, a woman, neither, or both.” “...Okay?” “I just want to make sure you understand these things, because part of being a respectful person means respecting others for who they are. And if you don’t completely understand the label they identify as, then it’s your job to try and understand it the best you can.” “Why?” “Because too many people in this world judge others for things they can’t control, and that’s not right. No one should have to feel like they were born wrong. And I want to make sure you know this, that way you can be better than those who choose to hurt others for things they can’t control.” “Does that mean the guys who made fun of me are bad people?” “I’m sure they aren’t. They might just be confused because they don’t understand that being gay isn’t anything bad or dirty. The people in this part of Gotham...they don’t accept a lot of things. They think that being queer or a person of color means you don’t deserve respect, and that’s wrong. It was wrong of those kids to tease you and your lab partner the way they did.” Dick nods slowly. “I’m not gay.” “I know. I just want you to be aware of these things. And if you ever have questions or need to talk, you can always come to me.” He ruffles Dick’s hair. “Even when other people are nasty, remember that I love you no matter what, got it?” Dick shoves Bruce’s hand away and smoothes his hair back out, grinning. “Yeah, yeah. I got it.” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

- Thirteen Years Old -

What’s the difference between a growth spurt and a shark?

Dick doesn’t have any sharks. “We’re home!” Dick announces. He and Alfred stumble into the house, their arms filled with all kinds of shopping bags. With Dick shooting up half an inch nightly these days, he’s growing out of his clothes at a rate even Bane would gawk at. Bruce and Alfred can barely keep up with the kid. “Want to see what I got?” “Show me, pal.” Bruce sets aside his tablet and pushes his reading glasses up on his head. (He does not have poor vision, thank you very much. Leslie just made him get a prescription as a precaution, that’s all. He’s still young by anyone’s standards, just ask Selina.) Dick starts pulling clothing out of the boutique bags, showing off every one of his new sweaters and pairs of Alfred-approved jeans. After ten minutes that Bruce desperately tries to look interested during, Dick pulls out what looks like a t-shirt that’s been sliced in half horizontally. The fabric is bright pink with a chibi whale on the front. “This one is my favorite,” Dicks says. His grin is blinding. Bruce stares for a long moment, his brain a lagging computer drive. “What is it?” “It’s a crop top. You know, like a belly shirt?” Memories from Dick’s Kim Possible phase flash in front of Bruce’s eyes. “Alfred let you buy that?” “Yeah?” Dick’s smile flags. He lowers the crop top, suddenly self-conscious. “Do you not...like it?” “You were supposed to get winter clothes, Dick. For cold weather.” “So?” “That’s clearly something you’re supposed to wear during the summer.” Dick pouts. “But I like it.” He holds it up against himself, twisting this way and that like an amateur model. “Sorry, kiddo. You’re not leaving the house in that until springtime.” “Oh, so Robin can wear tiny shorts in the winter, but Dick Grayson can’t wear a harmless crop top? I smell hypocrisy.” “Yes, because Robin has thermal leggings and a built-in heater in his uniform.” He looks back at the pink monstrosity, at Dick’s pleading eyes. “I would be open to negotiations if you’re willing to wear a sweater under it.” “That’s not how fashion works, B.” “I don’t care. You can wait until it gets warmer out to wear it.” “You’re such a drag,” Dick whines. He lifts his dozens of shopping bags and goes to leave, then turns right back around. “What if I wear a jacket over it and promise to keep it closed whenever I’m outside?” Bruce considers that. “Fine. But not below fifteen degrees, got it? And if I see you outside for even five seconds without the jacket, I’m confiscating the Xbox. Deal?” “Deal.” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

- Fourteen Years Old -

Something is different about Dick today. You’d think his boots were made of helium with the way he floats through patrol, and then smiles into his late-night milkshake like it did his homework for him. Bruce sits beside his Robin on the roof of Wayne Tower, silent for as long as he can bear before he can’t hold it back any longer. “Did anything interesting happen today?” “Huh?” Dick looks up as if Bruce pried him and his thoughts apart with a crowbar. “You’ve been...different. Happy.” “Am I not usually happy?” “No, you are. Just seems like you’re...extra happy, for whatever reason.” A blush dusts the kid’s cheeks. He sips his chocolate shake and shrugs. “Dunno. It was just a good day. Nothing special.” Yeah, and Bruce is a goddamn unicorn. Still, he knows better than to pry where Dick doesn’t want him. It’s a delicate thing. “If you say so.” “I got a hundred on my English essay,” Dick offers. It’s a start. “Was that the one on Grapes of Wrath?” “That was last month. We’re on Animal Farm now. It’s not my favorite.” “Yeah, I wasn’t a fan of Orwell either. Shakespeare was okay, but I preferred his tragedies over his comedies.” “Of course you did.” That makes Bruce laugh. He’s not worried; the two of them are high enough that no one can hear it. Bruce even has his cowl down, his face exposed to the cool air. “They had quinoa burgers at the cafeteria today.” “Mm-hm.” Dick is dodging something, beating around whatever bush he wants to talk about. Bruce can be patient while he figures it out. “And I spent some time with Barbara after school.” “Oh?” “Yeah. We walked home together and we took this old path through the park. Then we kissed.” Bruce chokes on his milkshake. He coughs, his sinuses burning and eyes watering. When he recovers, he says, “That’s...that’s great, chum.” “Yeah.” Dick can’t stop smiling, a true schoolboy in love. “And she asked if I wanted to patrol with her tomorrow night, but I said I needed to check in with you first.” “I don’t see why not.” It’s not like Bruce hasn’t patrolled without Dick before. Sure, he misses the company on the few days a week he’s alone, but he’s not about to deny Dick the thing he clearly wants. “You sure? You look...freaked out.” “No, no. That’s...great, that you kissed. Congratulations.” Awkward. He’s so fucking awkward. Stop being awkward right now. He doesn’t know why this is messing with his head so drastically. Bruce has listened to Dick moon over girls for the entirety of his pubescence, talking about them like they’re goddesses he’s forbidden to look upon, Barbara included. And Bruce has seen the way Dick and Barbara interact with each other in between muggings, always talking with their heads bent close like they’re the only two people in the world. Who would have thought Batman could be a third wheel? “I’ve liked her for a while now, but I didn’t know if she liked me back and I was too nervous to ask.” Dick’s face goes even pinker. “Kissing her was cool.” Part of Bruce’s brain jumps at the realization that, holy shit, Dick just had his first kiss, my little boy is growing up, what a milestone. The other part is far less happy about this new development. Yes, Bruce has seen Dick win brawls with men three times his size. He can fly the Bat-jet on his own, knows six languages, and is even leading his own superhero team. And yet, all Bruce can think is, no, not my little boy, he’s just a baby, Batgirl is corrupting his innocence and She Must Be Stopped. With great effort, Bruce holds it all back. He’s read the parenting books, he knows that it’s important to be supportive when they’re at this age. “Good to hear. I’m happy for you.” He pats Dick on the shoulder. “Thanks, B.” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

- Sixteen Years Old - “Hey, Bruce? Can I talk to you?” Bruce doesn’t look up from the metal flakes he’s testing. “What is it?” “I can come back later if you’re busy.” “No, I’m just analyzing some samples. I’m looking for residue from one of Zsasz’s blades.” Dick steps forward, tentative for once. “Need any help?” “I would like for you to come out with whatever it is you clearly need to tell me.” Dick snorts quietly. “Nice phrasing.” “What?” “I think I’m bisexual.” Bruce turns around, forgetting about the samples entirely. Dick’s arms are crossed over his chest, his eyes skipping between everything that isn’t Bruce’s face. At sixteen years old he’s finally tall enough that he doesn’t have to crane his neck to look at Bruce anymore. “You...think?” “I am. I’m bisexual.” “Okay.” “Is that cool with you?” The question shocks Bruce. “Of course it is.” Did Dick honestly think this would change anything? Has Bruce done something wrong, made Dick think that he wasn’t loved unconditionally? Dick squints, appraises Bruce’s reaction. “You knew, didn’t you.” “No.” “Bruce.” “I knew a little bit.” Dick rolls his eyes. The tension slips from his shoulders. His arms uncross. “Of course you did.” “Well, you weren’t exactly subtle about it.” “What the hell does that mean?” “Language,” Bruce chides, more out of habit than anything. “And do you realize how often you would come home after elementary school complaining about stupid pretty boys?” “That was just me being dramatic.” “I’m not disputing that. But they were still crushes, pal.” “I figured you thought it was just a phase.” Bruce shrugs. “Maybe for the first few days. But trust me, I have known you liked boys since you were a kid.” “Then why didn’t you just say so? It took me years to figure this all out, and you’re telling me you’ve been sitting on this info the whole time?” “Because this is your truth, not mine. I knew that you would tell me about it when you were ready. And you have.” Dick is clearly fighting a smile. He bites his lip instead, runs a hand through his mop of black hair that not even Alfred can wheedle him into combing anymore. “Well, I’m heading to the tower for the night, so don’t wait up, ‘kay? Kay. Good talk.” He goes to leave, but Bruce stops him. “Hang on. Why choose now to tell me?” Dick stuffs his hands in his pockets—an obvious tell. “No reason. I just...wanted you to know. Just in case.” “In case of what?” “Oh, you know.” Dick waves his hand in a gesture that clarifies absolutely nothing. “Life happens. People meet each other. You know how it is.” Bruce’s soul implodes. “You have a date?” “I never said that.” “You implied it.” “Real detectives rely on evidence, not theories.” Dick winks. “Tell me who it is. Are they a civilian? A hero? Do they come from a respectable family?” If it’s Roy Harper, Bruce might have to bury a body tonight. Especially after learning about Harper’s drug problem. Dick is too pure for someone like that. Or—heaven forbid—that Wally West kid. Dick is already walking away. “See ya, Bruce!” “You come back here, Richard John Grayson! Do I know him? Does he know your father is Batman?” Dick’s cackle echoes around the cave. “It had better not be a speedster!”

#soho speaks #batfamily #batfam #batman #bruce wayne #dick grayson #robin #nightwing #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #this is so fluffy my teeth fell out in the first two paragraphs #bi dick grayson #bisexual dick grayson #bisexuality #gay #lgbtq

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immortalcoelacanth · 3 years

Text

Between the Walls, Chapter 5: Turtles, Bees, and Hybrids in Between

*drags self out of hole and drops chapter*

God this was a struggle to write with school but here we are! Clocking in at either the second or third longest chapter I've ever written for a fic! Please forgive me if there's any spelling errors!

... I didn't help that every time I opened the doc I use to work on this it kept opening up to the chapter that involves Dream XD

Word count: 9016 (yes, you read that right)

Summary: Tubbo sets out to reunite with Tommy, Tommy makes a new friend, and a ghost unintentionally makes their reunion harder.

“Where did you take Tommy?!”

“Keep it down, kid, or else you’ll get in trouble!”

“I don’t care! Where is he?!”

For the past several days, Tubbo had been trying to figure out where Tommy had been exiled to. He had interrogated practically all the other borrowers who had been involved in kicking his friend, his brother, out of the only home he had ever known.

All the borrowers other than the one responsible for actually taking him to where he was exiled to, that is. Fortunately, finding the woman had not been all that hard since he knew the… wilder borrowers tended to stay near either the front gate or the market when they were trading items they had managed to scavenge. After asking around the market to see if anyone knew where she was, made tougher by the fact that he had no clue what her name was and only had a vague description of what she looked like, he had eventually been told that she was last spotted at the front gate.

Which led to the current predicament with Tubbo facing one of the borrowers responsible for his friend’s exile. His hands were planted on his hips as he glared the woman down, refusing to let her pass until she answered his question.

The woman placed her head in her hands and sighed loudly. “Listen, I can’t. I can’t tell you. I can’t take you to him. I can’t do any of those things since I’d get in so much trouble-”

“I. Don’t. Care.” Tubbo spat, the pure venom and anger in his voice causing the other borrower to recoil. “And I’ll do whatever I have to so I can see Tommy again! So, uh…”

The anger on his face faded, turning to sheepish embarrassment. “What’s your name?”

“Sara.”

“Alright, Sara,” The venom was back, albeit not as strong as it was before. “I won’t rest until I’m with Tommy again, so you had better tell me where he is! Or else!”

Even with his unusually angry demeanor, Tubbo doubted his threats would be taken all that seriously thanks to both his unfortunately short height and typically meek demeanor. He had never been all that good at standing up for himself and fighting back, Tommy had always been more confident and headstrong, willing to stick up for him no matter what.

He missed Tommy, so much.

It was like there was a piece of his heart missing. His very soul seemed to ache with each passing day and, even though some of the adults in Borrowton were a bit nicer to him, their warmth failed to chase away the cold feeling that had engulfed him. He needed Tommy, needed to see his best friend again and make sure he was okay, and he would do whatever was needed to accomplish this goal.

No matter how weak or scared he was.

“Alright, alright.” Sara sighed as she held her hands out. “How about this. I can’t take you directly to him, but I’ll drop you off nearby and point you in the direction you need to go. That sound good?”

Tubbo immediately nodded his head, his previously aggressive stance relaxing as relief flowed through him. “That would work! Can we leave now? Soon? By the end of today? When do you think-”

“Holy crap, one thing at a time.” The older borrower interrupted, looking more than a little annoyed at the sudden bombardment of questions. “Luckily for you I was gonna leave soon anyways. Just let me get all my supplies packed up and then we can go. You’ll probably want to get some stuff for yourself as well.”

Perhaps it was a bit naive of him to not question her further, drill her on why she had changed her mind so fast, but he was too caught up in his excitement to think about anything other than his reunion with Tommy. He quickly nodded once more, already thinking about what he would need to get from his… house.

Not a home, it was never a home.

“Then get outta here! I’ll meet you at the front gate.” Sara insisted as she shooed Tubbo away. “Scram before we both get in trouble!”

“Y-Yeah, and thank you!” The younger borrower called out as he quickly ran off, stumbling in his haste to reach his destination. He did his best to stick to some of the darker, more hidden paths so he could avoid encountering anyone else lest they see the hopeful look on his face.

Borrowton itself was not at that large, but it was tall. The settlement had originally been built underground before reaching upwards and connecting with a tree that grew above it. Roots had been carved to form staircases and ladders stretched down from the higher levels. There were also wood and rope pathways that connected each of the towering structures, allowing people to use them to easily cross over to other towers, or simply sit on them and rest while taking in the scenery.

He and Tommy had frequently sat up on these pathways, staring down at the ground that was so very, very far below them, or use it as a chance to annoy some of the borrowers who walked underneath them.

Fishing rods were perfect for stealing hats, and other interesting looking items.

Shorter, more typical houses also littered the ground. They were some of the oldest structures in the settlement, made long before some of the borrowers who founded this place decided to get a bit more creative and inventive with their building. And it was in one of these old, dilapidated houses that Tommy and Tubbo lived.

Well, it wasn’t really their house. It was more so a place that they had permission to live in, since no one else wanted to take them in or offer up their own place to stay. A blatant rejection by their community, but Tubbo had learned to stop caring about that a long time ago.

The second he reached his destination, he flung the door open, raced inside, and quickly closed it behind him.

“Okay, okay. Get the important stuff and don’t worry about the rest.” Tubbo mumbled as he quickly scanned the dark interior of his house. He didn’t bother to light any of the lamps and instead opted to grab a backpack and start filling it with supplies. Tools, food, some bottles of water, and building supplies were all quickly shoved into the bag, haste taking priority over organization.

Of course, with his speed and intense focus, the borrower was bound to slip up and make a mistake somewhere. This manifested in him accidentally smacking into one of the walls near the staircase that led up to the loft, knocking it loose and causing it to slide to the side-

Revealing their hidden stash of items.

Tubbo froze as he caught sight of the worn-down jukebox that had been shoved into the corner of the cramped space. The wood was chipped, he could recall the splinters he had to help get out of Tommy’s hands on multiple occasions, and the varnish had long since faded entirely.

And yet, even with all that damage it still sounded amazing.

He smiled gently as he reached out and carefully patted the top of the jukebox. This item had brought them both so many happy memories, moments of joy without having to worry about anything else. It was undoubtedly the most important item the duo had, a title shared only by the two discs that the borrowers had kept hidden from the community that had shunned them.

Such rare items that could only be found and never replicated were priceless and would have immediately been used to handle all sorts of vital trades with other settlements, but the duo did not care. The discs were theirs, and that was that. He knew for a fact that Tommy would never give them up, and he wouldn’t either.

Tubbo reached around the jukebox and carefully removed the thin, wooden container that had been hidden by its bulky frame. He quickly opened it to check and see if the items it contained were still okay. The two discs, Cat and Mellohi written on both of them to help identify which was which, immediately greeted his worried gaze. They were both perfectly fine, no scratches or blemishes to be seen, and the borrower let out a relieved sigh.

Even if he couldn’t bring the jukebox with him, at least he could give Tommy the discs once they were reunited.

The case was carefully added to the backpack, some items placed on top of it to hide it from sight, and Tubbo took one last look of the closest thing to a home he had ever known. From the low hanging ceiling and the loft that housed both of their beds, to the tiny kitchen Tommy had set on fire more than once, the house was just as worn down and broken as they were, but they had lived their best life regardless.

Discarded like the trash everyone thought they were, left in a rotting home and ignored, but he and Tommy had come out all the stronger in spite of it.

A quiet, near inaudible voice whispered that he should set the house ablaze, turn his past to ashes and rise out of the destruction that had caused, confident and victorious. To leave a remainder that they had failed to break him, break his spirit, but he quickly ignored it and instead shouldered his backpack.

No, it would be better to disappear without a trace and show them how insignificant they all were to him. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction in letting them know how badly they had all hurt him. How close they had gotten to their goal.

So, Tubbo turned and left his old house behind. The door was carefully shut and he patted it, knowing it would be the last time he saw this place. It was bittersweet, leaving like this, but he knew this was the right path forward.

He had to see Tommy again.

He would see Tommy again.

With that thought, that promise, in mind he quickly ducked back into the darker alleyways and slowly but surely made his way to the front gate. Occasionally he would have to stop and wait as other borrowers, and the occasional guard, passed him by, but he ultimately managed to reach his destination with little difficulty.

He immediately spotted Sara after making his way up the hill that connected the gate to the rest of Borrowton, having internally panicked the entire time about being seen. It looked like the guards were busy with something else, probably patrolling parts of the dark forest for any items dropped by mobs, which meant this was the perfect time for his departure from Borrowton.

Using up the last of his energy, he sprinted the rest of the way to the older borrower, dropping to his knees beside her as he took a moment to catch his breath. It was a moment that was quickly interrupted as Sara snagged the back of his shirt and dragged him towards the collection of shrubbery that surrounded the front gate, hiding it from sight.

And in turn hiding both Tubbo and the other borrower from the guards.

He let out a yelp as he was finally let go, dropping flat onto his back while Sara crossed her arms and tapped her foot in annoyance. He glanced up at her and opened his mouth to speak, but before he could start talking she turned around and disappeared into the foliage.

Taking that as his sign to follow her, he quickly pushed himself upright and raced through the last bits of greenery that helped hide Borrowton. Shoving through large leaves, and nearly getting smacked in the face by a twig, he burst into the warm sunlight that peeked between the trees.

It was weird seeing the sun, but it was even weirder seeing the large fox that must have been patiently waiting for them, bags full of supplies scattered around it. The life he lived was not a sheltered one, per say, but he rarely got the chance to leave Borrowton and really experience the world around him. He had always been good working with his hands, and the adults all told him that he would grow up to create things, to build and help their home. Whenever he asked about Tommy, about what his role would be, he had only ever seen disappointed frowns and the shaking of heads.

Like they had given up on him before trying, deciding he wasn’t worth whatever effort they were willing to give out.

“This is my fox.” Sara explained as she patted the animal’s flank, unintentionally snapping Tubbo out of his memory filled haze. “He’s gonna be our ticket to getting you to your friend, so you better be nice.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be extra nice!” He assured her as he got up and made his way over to the fox. Once he was close enough, he scratched behind the fox’s ears, grinning at the happy noises the animal made. A contemplative look crossed his face, and he decided to voice his question. “Does he have a name?” “No? He’s just a fox.” Sara stiffly replied as she started tying the bags to the fox’s sides, attaching them to the near invisible harness the animal was wearing. “And everyone knows he’s mine, so he doesn’t need a name.”

“Oh…” Tubbo mumbled, appearing downcast before perking up. “Can I give him a nickname, then? Something I can call him?”

Though she seemed incredibly confused by his question, she hesitantly nodded. “Yeah? I can’t really do anything to stop you.”

“I’ll call him Squeeks then!” Tubbo beamed. “Because he sounds all squeaky, but spelled differently! Uniquely!”

As if agreeing with Tubbo’s decision, the newly named Squeeks let out an excited squeal and bumped the young borrower. He laughed and continued to love on the energetic creature as Sara finished up their preparations.

Time seemed to both drag on and race by, and before Tubbo knew it the other borrower had finished packing up and was already climbing onto the fox, with him following behind a moment later. The fur beneath his hands was nice and fluffy, as soft as Squeeks was, and served to be the perfect distraction that stopped him from noticing the little whistle Sara let out.

“Time to go!”

That was the only warning he got as the fox started dashing between the trees and emerging into a large, open field. He winced and lifted a hand up to block the harsh rays coming from the sun. It was so… so bright out here! And all the blue-

“Is that an ocean?” Tubbo gasped, jaw dropping in surprise upon seeing the massive body of water that was apparently situated not that far from his old home. “We live near an ocean?!”

“Lived, in your case, and yeah.” Sara answered, quickly glancing back at the younger borrower before returning her eyes to the horizon. “Water and borrowers don’t really mix, so it’s more of a restricted area.”

“Well that’s a dumb rule.” He huffed. “How else are we supposed to get used to water if we aren’t around it? It just doesn’t make sense!”

“Rules don’t tend to make sense, and enjoy the scenery while you can since we gotta go pretty far inland.” The older borrower said before falling silent and focusing on making sure the fox was headed in the right direction. There were several times where Tubbo opened his mouth to speak, wanting to ask a question, but ultimately remained silent and instead opted to watch their slowly changing surroundings.

It gave him plenty of time to think, too. Think about where he was going and what he was going to do, and ask himself some questions that he knew would go unanswered.

Questions about humans.

What did a settlement of humans even look like? He had only heard about the occasional town, knew there was one close to Borrowton, but he had never been allowed to visit it. Too small and dangerous for borrowing, apparently. Would this place be like that one? Small and difficult to find a good hiding spot? What about the humans?

Would they be as cruel and cunning as he had been told, or would he find a human who was nice and wouldn’t kill him if he was spotted? He had so many questions, and the time for their answers would have to come much later…

“Here we are.”

The sound of Sara’s voice snapped Tubbo out of his thoughts and he straightened up, eyes landing on the collection of structures ahead. Some were made out of wood, others out of what appeared to be different kinds of stone, and there were sprawling wooden paths that stretched out in all sorts of directions.

It was… intimidating to say the least.

He had no idea how long it would take him to try and find Tommy. There were so many spaces a borrower could hide in. From the buildings themselves to the various trees and shrubs that could easily be used as a hiding spot, practically everywhere had the potential to house a borrower to some extent. And this was only a portion of what he would need to explore.

Tommy could be anywhere if he found him at all.

Tubbo nervously swallowed as he slid off of Squeeks, the fox immediately started nuzzling his back and nearly knocked the poor borrower over. He let out an awkward laugh, mood lightening just the slightest bit, and turned his attention to the affectionate animal.

“It was nice meeting you, Squeeks.” Tubbo said as he scratched at the fox’s ears and got that signature, laugh-like noise in response. He didn’t see how Sara’s eyes narrowed in annoyance, and it was only when she loudly cleared her throat that he looked up at her.

“And thank you for your help, Sara!” He hastily added. “I’m grateful, truly! I don’t know how I can repay you-”

“Don’t worry about that since this is the last time we’ll see one another.” She interrupted, her face rather blank and betraying none of her emotions. “So, forget about any of that and just live, alright kid?”

“Mhm!” Tubbo quickly nodded. While he wasn’t all that fond of leaving on such a note, debts were a powerful thing after all, he knew there was nothing he could say to change her mind. All he could hope was that working with her didn’t come back to bite him.

Maybe… maybe he and Tommy could stay here. There was always the chance that they could turn this place into their new home, a place they could live in without having to worry about being bothered by other borrowers. Of course, there was still the challenge of finding food, a good source of water, and actually building their home, but that was something they could work on over time.

Yes, that was it! He would build a temporary base, find Tommy, and then work on creating their own home!

With a plan in mind and hope filling his heart, Tubbo waved once more to Sara and set off on his mission. Dashing between the undergrowth and other forms of cover to keep himself from being seen by any humans, or dangerous animals, that might be nearby

Sara sighed softly to herself as she watched the younger borrower vanish from sight. It was so strange knowing that this was the second time she had done this, abandoning a child to some horribly doomed fate, but at least Tubbo had a better chance of surviving then Tommy did.

She let out a quiet snort and shook her head. It was highly unlikely he was still alive thanks to his temperament and what she knew of the Blood God. It wasn’t that she thought he was a bad person, but his habits and choices were… dangerous. It would have been all too easy for him to expose Borrowton to outsiders and humans. He never seriously considered what the consequences his actions would have when something went wrong, how selfish and immature he was.

He was nothing more than a threat to all the borrowers he interacted with, a threat to their way of life.

Good riddance.

xxxxxxxxxx

Warm sunlight shone down on the lonely cabin sitting in the middle of the empty tundra. The light brought with it an unusual warmth, making it the perfect day to spend some time outside gathering resources or fixing up the cabin.

Which was exactly what Technoblade had decided to do.

After repairing the damage that he had dealt to the porch, ignoring the borrower who had followed him outside and immediately started teasing him, the hybrid had decided to spend the rest of the day working on Carl’s stable. The least he could do was improve it so that way the horse would be comfortable in the harsh chill of the tundra.

Surprisingly enough, Tommy had trailed after him as he went from place to place using his own secret passages to keep up with the hybrid. It was fascinating being able to see the hidden doors that had previously gone unnoticed by him, and he was relieved to know that the property value of his home wouldn’t be going down.

Nothing was worse than having a bunch of holes in your house that made it look like it was infested by mice.

Still, the amount of ingenuity required to make something so simple yet complex, even if he had been taught how to do it before, was immense. Hell, if it wasn’t for naturally loud Tommy was, Techno doubted he would have ever found out about the borrower and all the passageways he had made. So, he ended paying more attention than he expected to Tommy when the borrower started making a pathway that connected to the top of Carl’s stable.

A bit unsurprising since he seemed to be very fond of the horse. He wasted no time in pointing out how much Carl seemed to like him, although Techno personally thought the horse was fairly apathetic towards Tommy’s attempts at friendship and only used it as a chance to get carrots from the borrower.

Carl was definitely the smartest being on the server, hands down.

Plus, he was immensely amused as he watched Tommy struggle to hold each carrot up, the vegetable practically the same size as the borrower. It was only through sheer stubbornness and willpower he was able to lift the thing in the first place.

And the occasional nudge from Techno that helped him keep his balance when he tipped back too far. Fences weren’t the safest of places to stand on, of course.

All in all, the day was turning out to be surprisingly productive and peaceful, even if he had to deal with listening to Tommy ramble on and on about whatever topic entered his mind. Techno was surprised to find himself actually listening more than he thought he would, occasionally chiming in with his own point or teasing the borrower. It was a welcome change after the excitement of freeing Carl.

A change that he knew wouldn’t last. Peace was an unfamiliar concept to his family, chaos was naturally drawn to them. Funnily enough, it was a trait that Tommy seemed to share. Speaking of the borrower…

“You’re just jealous that Carl thinks I’m better than you!” Tommy teased, smugly smirking at the hybrid, who just rolled his eyes and shook his head. “He knows how great I am!”

“I just think it’s pretty funny that you don’t realize your greatness,” Both the term and the heavy sarcastic tone had Tommy’s smile turning into a disgruntled frown, but Techno wasn’t done yet. “Is resulting in you getting exploited by a horse.”

“He’s not exploiting me!” The borrower objected. “We’re buddies! Best buddies! For someone who’s so smart with all his fancy words, you don’t seem to get it!”

“Oh, trust me, I get it completely.” Techno drawled, sparing a quick glance over at Carl. For as challenging as it was to pinpoint the horse’s emotions, he didn’t miss the cunning gleam in Carl’s eyes.

Suddenly, a screen popped up beside the hybrid. Tommy jumped back in alarm, nearly falling off the fence he was perched on. Fortunately, Carl quickly helped him resettle himself with a quick nudge and an exasperated sounding snort, as Techno turned his attention to the messages he had just received. Messages from Philza.

Shit.

He cursed under his breath as he began tapping away at the screen, ignoring the curious looks thrown his way by both the borrower and the horse. “Fuck, I forgot about Phil.”

“The fuck is Phil?” Tommy immediately asked, running along the stable’s fence as he tried to keep up with Techno’s strides. “And what’s with that screen thingy? You sending messages to any girls? Looking for any local hot women in the area?”

Naturally, his questions went unanswered as Techno continued mumbling to himself, something about bees and farms, leaving the borrower more than a little annoyed. Not wanting to be left behind, both literally and in terms of the conversation Techno was having with himself, he quickly came up with a plan to keep up. A plan that relied on a rapidly closing window of opportunity.

So, Tommy made his move.

He did not bother trying to get the hybrid’s attention and instead sprinted towards the end of the fence. The moment he reached the edge, he bent his knees and jumped.

For a moment, pure fear filled him as he lunged through the air, refusing to look downwards and instead remaining focused on grabbing onto the swaying braid in front of him. He could feel his heart pounding as he got closer, and closer, until-

His hands made contact with pink hair and he immediately held on as tight as he could. He crossed his ankles, locking his feet together, as he took a moment to catch his breath. He felt all sweaty and jittery, the lingering hints of adrenaline running through his veins. Once he finally felt calm enough to move, and his hands stopped shaking, he slowly started climbing up the long braid.

At this point, Techno had made his way into the cabin and was rummaging through the chests. He was completely unaware of the borrower climbing up his hair until he felt a particularly harsh tug at the back of his head followed by the sounds of Tommy cursing.

“What the fuck, man?! You nearly left me behind!” The borrower exclaimed as he heaved himself over the edge of Techno’s crown, flopping into the pink hair. He could still feel his heart racing from both the dangerous climb and the terrifying jump, but he also felt badass.

He knew of no other borrowers that could brag about such an achievement and, despite how out of breath he was, he found himself smiling as he lay sprawled out on top of the hybrid’s head.

“Sorry.” Techno said, sounding not at all apologetic as that screen appeared once more. “Figured you could use the exercise with those twiggy legs of yours-”

“And here he goes again! Big, scary Blade acting all mean and stuff! Gotta keep up that tough guy act!” Tommy grumbled while waving his hands in the air dramatically.

He heard Techno let out an amused snort at his antics, making a grin appear on the borrower’s face. There was something satisfying about seeing a positive reaction to his antics for once instead of being scolded or told off. For as dangerous as the hybrid could be, Tommy had developed some trust towards him.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to make Techno suffer for almost leaving him out in the cold. Revenge was in the cards, and he refused to miss this chance.

“... You know it’s okay to look up hot old men in your area too right-”

Tommy’s grin grew as he heard the strangled wheeze escape the hybrid, and he threw his head back and cackled. Flopping back into the soft, pink hair he rolled around as he laughed and nearly smacked into the crown surrounding him.

“You’re horrible, and your jokes are cringe.” Techno grumbled. “Phil is my-”

What words could properly describe the connection forged between them? A pact sealed in bloodshed, violence, and a level of comprehension that far exceeded anything he had ever known in his life.

The look of understanding in Philza’s eyes. A grounding voice, a source of stability in a crimson sea of death and loneliness.

A mentor, a savior, a-

“... Dad.” He finally settled on, figuring it would be the easiest way for Tommy to understand what he meant. “He’ll be here, soon.”

“What?!” The borrower squawked, his previous amusement fading and quickly being replaced with dread. He stood up, gripped the edge of the crown, and looked down into Techno’s face. “Y-You have to tell me these things! We’re roommates! And you have a dad?!”

“To be fair, he was supposed to visit a couple days ago, but then Carl happened.”

“That doesn’t explain anything!”

A brow was raised at the shout, Techno easily picking up on the anxiety that made the kid’s voice crack and left him trembling. It was bizarre seeing Tommy so openly terrified, and at the thought of meeting Philza no less.

Philza Minecraft, who had the unfortunate habit of picking up any homeless kid he found on the street and giving them the shelter and support they so desperately craved.

Even if he occasionally left for long periods of time...

His ears twitched, the distant sounds of Wilbur’s shouts and Phil’s pleas for him to calm down ringing in his head. He glanced upwards, eyes meeting the wide, terrified stare of the borrower, and felt the neutral look on his face soften. He didn’t like the idea of the kid being scared, in general and of Phil, and it just felt… wrong.

It felt wrong for Tommy to be afraid of anything. For his arrogance and loud nature to become so quiet and muffled. To see that spark in his eyes dull.

“There’s nothing you need to be worried about-”

“Easy for you to say!” Tommy interrupted with a scoff. “You’re you! You’re all tough and mehmehmeh look at all these swords and potions I’ve got! You don’t have to be worried! You don’t have to be scared! You…”

His words trailed off with a sigh and he braced himself against the edge of the crown, eyes shutting. “You don’t know what it’s like to have to be scared of everything.”

No, Techno didn’t know anything about what it must be like to live at such a diminutive size, although he was familiar with the fear and struggle of trying to survive.

Scorching hot air, bubbling lava. Frantic running and a gold sword clutched tightly in his hands-

Perhaps that familiarity was why he found himself speaking up, repeating the words that had been spoken to him years ago.

“I won’t let anything hurt you.”

The declaration that had slipped out of Techno left the duo frozen and silent, each contemplating the meaning behind his words. While the hybrid was mentally berating himself on making such a claim, not that he couldn’t easily fulfill it, the borrower’s eyes snapped open and he looked down, meeting Techno’s gaze once more. He swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, and spoke up.

“... Really?”

He hated it, hated how childish and weak he sounded, but at the same time he craved reassurance and wanted to know that he would be okay, that everything would turn out okay.

He just wanted to know that he’d be safe.

Techno nodded, unintentionally jostling the borrower around a bit as he struggled to figure out how exactly to word what he wanted to say. Eventually, he settled on a simple. “Yeah, really.”

A moment of silence passed, then two, and then-

“Okay,” Tommy relented, letting out a quiet sigh and nodding. “I trust you, Blade.”

“Wait over here for now. You’ll warm up to Phil pretty quick.” Techno suggested with a knowing tone in his voice as he plucked the borrower off the top of his head and carried him over to the table. Even as Tommy scampered across the surface to duck behind a book he had left out, fear and uncertainty clear in the kid’s eyes, he knew those feelings would vanish soon enough.

Phil had a way with people that he could never hope to comprehend, a skill that had come in handy when they had first met all those years ago in the scorching heat of the Nether. A skill that had equally come in handy when a grungy child carrying a broken guitar had been found rummaging through the trash.

Instinctively knowing how to soothe them and their worries, to calm their fears.

So, despite the anxious looks that were sent his way, he walked over to the front window and waited.

Tommy honestly had no idea what he expected Phil to look like. Techno had given him no information whatsoever, the prick, and the only thing he knew was that Phil was his dad, which meant they probably looked similar?

At least he now knew that he had gotten one of his first jokes about Techno right.

Simply put, it was only when he caught sight of the short, blond man entering the cabin that he realized Techno was adopted, or was most likely adopted. They didn’t seem to have anything in common based on their appearances, other than the fact that both of them looked to be fond of capes since Phil was wearing a long, black cape that stretched towards the floor.

Funnily enough, it was pretty stiff for a cape. There was none of the cool flowing he had grown used to seeing, but maybe that was because of the cold.

Anything would freeze out in the open tundra, including capes.

However, his assumption that Phil and Techno were both just cape obsessed fashionistas was quickly proven false when the newcomer’s cape moved. He heard something that sounded like the rustling of leaves on a windy day and watched in awe as the cape seemed to expand and open up, breaking into two separate parts-

Wings.

“You’ve got wings!” The borrower exclaimed, ducking out from behind his hiding spot and pointing at Phil. Both hybrids, assuming Phil was a hybrid of some sort, immediately turned to face him. He was more than used to Techno staring at him, all analytical and like he wanted to figure out everything about the borrower, but Phil was-

Different.

Where Techno’s eyes were cold and hard, Phil’s carried a warmth and softness within them. Even the smile on his face was gentle and, for some reason, helped soothe the lingering anxiety Tommy felt. It was a look he had seen addressed to many children back at Borrowton, but never to him. From that expression alone, he immediately knew one thing.

Phil wouldn’t hurt him.

“Hello there.” The winged hybrid greeted, taking a step closer to the table but still keeping his distance. “Didn’t know someone got a roommate-”

“Infestation.” Techno quickly corrected with a snort. “I didn’t put out an add or anything. Roommates suck.”

“Aw, it’s okay to feel lonely, Tech-”

Tommy watched as the duo started bantering back and forth, Phil continuing to tease Techno while the other hybrid responded in kind with his own barbs and jests. It was weird seeing him be so openly social, and for once in his life he found himself speechless.

That is, until Phil’s eyes landed on him yet again.

He didn’t stiffen up, nor did he try to hide from the winged man’s gaze. He instead held it and waited to see what would happen next, immediately being surprised when Phil sent him that same gentle smile from earlier.

“It’s nice to meet you, mate. I’m Philza, but you can call me Phil.”

“Tommy.” He mumbled, voice barely loud enough to be heard.

He felt so out of his depth in this new situation, everything was moving so fast and he had already possibly befriended someone else? The kind look in the winged hybrid’s eyes certainly made it seem like he cared, which would imply that friendship was not far off, right?

“So, is he joining us?” Phil asked, turning to Techno and in turn missing the confused look that crossed the borrower’s face.

“Joining? What’s going on?” Tommy piped up, his curiosity helping him find his voice. “You two going out somewhere?”

“Phil and I need to make some farms.” Techno explained. “A bee farm and a turtle farm, but we need to gather the resources first. I wasn’t planning on you tagging along, but you can if you don’t bother Phil.”

Asking Tommy to behave was out of the question, he understood how excited the kid could get and in turn how forgetful and unobservant he could become. The bare minimum he could hope for was for Tommy to reign in his excitement just enough to stop him from bugging Phil and distracting him.

Like he expected, Tommy’s eyes lit up in excitement and he eagerly nodded. “Fuck yeah! We headin’ out now? I can go grab my stuff-”

“The sooner you get ready, the better.” Techno interrupted as he shooed him away. “So, scram and get ready.”

As Tommy rushed into the nearby borrower hole that he had thankfully made the day prior, his excited rambling cutting off not long after he disappeared from sight, Techno pointedly ignored the smug look Phil sent his way.

“So, adoption-”

“Eugh, cringe.” Techno immediately interrupted, not wanting the conversation to progress any further. “Taking in an orphan? Providing emotional support? Couldn’t be me.”

“Nice to know what you think of me.” Phil quipped. He let out a laugh when he saw the concerned, almost horrified, look that crossed his adopted son’s face. “Relax! Relax, it’s just a joke, mate.”

His amusement faded and his smile took on a more concerned edge as he looked Techno over, eyes landing on the familiar blood red cape. “You’re more high strung than usual. Did something happen?”

“You mean aside from the nuisance that invaded my home?” Techno dryly retorted. “And I’m…”

Lie, lie, lie-

“... As good as I can be.” He answered, voice growing quieter. A quick inspection of his father had him noticing the dark shadows under Phil’s eyes and how dull his feathers were compared to their typical luster. “You?”

“Eh, I’m holding up.” Phil shrugged. “L’Manberg’s been busy, keeps me busy too.”

The look of disgust and annoyance that crossed Techno’s face got a laugh out of the other man. “You still got something in mind for them, mate?”

“A plan, and some trips to the Nether.”

“Nice, tell me if you need anymore help-”

One of Techno’s ears twitched and he glanced over at the borrower hole, a clear sign that their conversation was finished for now. Together, they both watched as the cover to the hole was moved and Tommy stumbled out of it, a bag now slung over his shoulders.

He looked… relatively unprepared compared to the two armor wearing and weapon carrying hybrids.

“Is that everything you need?” Phil asked, frowning slightly as he took in the simple bag Tommy was carrying. “No tools?”

“... I have my axe? My grappling hook?” The borrower hedged as he picked up a rather shoddy looking stone axe that had been attached to his belt. “Dunno what else I’d really need, old man.”

Already seeing Phil starting to get all concerned parent thanks to the look on his face combined with the fluffing up of his feathers, Techno decided to jump in and spare Tommy from the mother henning that was about to happen.

… He also stubbornly ignored the faint ache of his heart, unintentionally recalling how Wilbur had given Phil that title and teased him relentlessly with it.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got him covered.” He interjected while striding towards the chest at the edge of the room. “Armor’s still a struggle, but I finished something else up.”

“Armor?” Tommy visibly perked up and stared intensely at Techno’s back. “What armor?”

“Your hypothetical armor.”

The borrower’s jaw dropped while Phil looked more than a little interested, stepping forward and glancing at the chest that was being rummaged in. Techno ignored the both of them until he found what he had been searching for.

Straightening up and facing the duo, he presented the item he had been working on. “I was planning on giving this to you later, but now works too.”

It was a needle. A simple needle forged out of some dark metal that looked wickedly sharp to the touch. It was the perfect weapon for someone Tommy’s size, and the borrower carefully accepted it as it was passed to him. He could see his reflection staring back at him in the carefully polished metal.

Why…

“If you stab yourself I’m taking it back.”

“Wh-I won’t!” Tommy shouted, quickly looking up and glaring at Techno. “I know how to use this! We’ve been practicing-”

“And we’ll keep practicing until you stop tripping over your own feet.”

“Fuck off!”

The winged hybrid let out a contemplative hum as he inspected the weapon. “Why not try enchanting it as well? Fire aspect could be helpful.”

“I’m not giving him something that’ll let him burn down my house, Phil.”

“I bet he would’ve done that by now if he really wanted to.” Phil chuckled while shaking his head. “And you know what I mean. A bit of pain won’t scare everyone off, but some fire could help with that.”

The unspoken a needle can’t pierce through all armor and fire might deal more damage.

Techno remained silent as he thought the suggestion over before eventually nodding. “Alright, I’ll look into enchanting it once we get back. We’re far enough behind on those farms and we need to get them finished as soon as possible.”

“How about you go and get those turtle eggs while I take Tommy to find some bees?” Phil suggested, smiling to himself when he saw how excited the borrower looked. “Gives you a break and splits up the work so we can get it done faster.”

“You sure you can keep up in your old age?” Techno teased. “Make sure you don’t hurt your back.”

The wing that lightly smacked his side along with the exaggerated eye rolling made him feel both warm and cold. The familiarity of the gesture bringing back fond memories, and reminding him that those moments would stay memories no matter what.

That there would always be someone missing from their family, even with the husk that had been left behind.

He could see that lingering grief in Phil’s eyes, too, recalling times that had long since passed. An unspoken agreement passed between the duo, a promise that neither would mention the tragedy that had struck their family while Tommy was around.

Their grief was not something they wanted to share, nor did either of them want to dampen the excitement he clearly felt. So, Phil kept smiling as he replied.

“It’s been a bit, but I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

xxxxxxxxxx

“THIS IS FUCKING AMAZING!!!” Tommy shouted, his voice quickly lost to the wind whipping around him. He heard Phil chuckle above him, and the borrower’s smile grew.

After practically begging the winged hybrid to take him flying, Phil had agreed with some conditions. The first was that Tommy was to be on his best behavior, no trying to jump out of the man’s hands or anything crazy like that. The second was that he couldn’t distract the flying hybrid, but conversations and the occasional excited exclamation was okay. As for the third…

He had to stay warm.

Part of Phil’s cloak had been wrapped around the borrower, blocking out the glacial gale. Gloved hands carefully cupped Tommy close, keeping him tucked against the winged hybrid’s chest. It was surprisingly cozy, and more than once he had zoned out and found himself unintentionally cuddling up to the man carrying him, listening to the steady beating of the powerful wings that made him soar through the air.

He wasn’t as warm as Techno was, but he doubted anyone could match the amount of heat he seemed to give off.

He was more than a little surprised at how quickly he had come to trust Phil, especially in comparison to Techno. While it had taken him some time to warm up to the pig-like hybrid, an experience that he was certain had been mutual, with Phil there had been an almost instantaneous feeling of trust he felt towards the winged hybrid.

It was honestly terrifying when he actually thought about it, how willing he had been to literally put his life in the hands of someone he had met only minutes ago, but at the same time it felt…

Right.

Like a puzzle piece sliding into place, the same feeling he had felt when Techno protected him oh so long ago. It wasn’t something he could explain with words or rationalize in any way. It just… was what it was.

A feeling that left him more hopeful than he had felt in years.

The sensation of descent that left his legs tingling and his stomach flip-flopping was enough to shake Tommy out of his thoughts, and he looked over the edge of Phil’s hands to see the snow covered ground slowly approaching them. A couple careful flaps of those massive wings slowly lowered them until Phil’s feet were resting on the ground.

“We have to do that again!” Tommy said, looking up and sending Phil a wide, excited smile. “It was awesome! And fast! Way faster than I thought an old man would be-”

“Alright, alright, settle down.” The winged hybrid chuckled. “We can’t do that with the bees-”

“Fuck the bees! Them and their queen!”

“But, we can always go flying again later.” Phil continued, fighting to keep down the laugh that bubbled up at Tommy’s words. “Probably not today though. Farms need to be made and all.”

To the borrower’s surprise, instead of being put down on the ground like he assumed, Phil lifted him up to his shoulder. He hesitated for a moment before carefully climbing over and situated himself among the folds of clothes and the side of Phil’s neck.

The man wore layers, and Tommy instinctively wrapped the outermost one around himself, unconsciously letting out a soft sigh as the heat sank back into him. He missed how the wing behind him was raised up higher, blocking out more of the brisk winds.

Phil knew he’d get a cramp at some point, but the last thing he wanted was for the tiny kid to freeze. His clothes weren’t made for the cold, something he’d have to look into later, and it was obvious Tommy had lived somewhere much warmer before ending up in Techno’s cabin.

Yet again, the man found himself wondering what events had led to Tommy winding up in the tundra. Had he gotten lost? Been separated from his family somehow? He didn’t know how much Techno knew about the kid’s situation, and resolved to ask about it once they got back.

Fortunately, it didn’t take all that long before they stumbled on some bees that had been buzzing around in the near empty tundra as they struggled to find flowers. The occasional hive could be spotted between the spruce trees as well, making this the perfect spot to abduct some bees.

The next several minutes were filled with the sounds of cheerful conversation as Phil slowly gathered up the bees and collected their hives. Tommy spent most of his time asking the hybrid about his wings and flying, while the borrower answered several questions about his own people. The answers were never too detailed, of course, just generalized explanations that wouldn’t risk exposing the location of Borrowton.

Despite the conversation bordering on some rather heavy topics, such as Tommy’s obvious lack of home and the fact that he had never heard about hybrids before, weird since he had met two before he had encountered any humans, they were able to steer it away from any risky questions.

In no way did Tommy wish to discuss the pain he had endured back in Borrowton, nor did Phil want to go into the injustices and discrimination that hybrids faced on a daily basis. Both topics were better suited for conversations much later down the line.

Unfortunately, even with his efforts to avoid talking and thinking about his old home, and the best friend he had left behind, the subject reared its ugly head eventually.

Caused by none other than a bee, of course.

It had been an especially curious bee out of the bunch they had gathered so far that spotted the borrower tucked away under a layer of green fabric. His hair had probably caught its attention, the bright blond extra visible thanks to the green surrounding him. Tommy laughed as the bee drifted closer, nearly bumping into him as it tried to inspect him. It was so large, and absolutely covered in fuzz. There had always been something about seeing bees that never failed to cheer Tubbo up-

Tubbo...

A sharp, agonized noise escaped him. Guilt surged through him as he slowly leaned away from the bee, scooting backwards and taking shelter behind Phil’s neck. He felt the man stiffen up before shooing the bee away.

“Tommy, you alright?” Phil asked, voice quiet so he didn’t accidentally upset the borrower further. “Did something happen? Did you get stung?”

“... No, it’s fine.” Tommy replied, pressing the fabric wrapped around him to his face. He could feel the chill that the tears slowly streaming down his cheeks brought on, but he refused to acknowledge them. “M’fine.”

Sensing the sudden melancholy that had taken over the borrower, the winged hybrid decided it was time to leave the snowy tundra. Carefully holding the leads in his hand, he trudged through the snow as the bees buzzed around them. “Let’s get back to Techno and see how many turtles he’s got left.”

“Got left?” Tommy repeated, mood slightly lifting at the change in topic. “You mean hatched?”

“Not exactly, mate. You’ll see what I mean when we get back.” Phil said while gently smiling at him. It was a smile that was shakily returned with one of Tommy’s own before fading a moment later.

The trip back was far more silent than the flight had been with the borrower making no jokes, nor commenting on their surroundings, and Phil not pressing and asking what was wrong. At least he didn’t have to worry about being interrogated and being forced to explain his feelings.

Explain Tubbo…

Returning to the cabin and finding Technoblade patrolling the perimeter of the turtle farm was enough to make that smile return to Tommy’s face and, when the hybrid started freaking out after the tiny turtle disappeared in a pile of snow, the laughter he let out was almost enough to make him forget about the ache in his chest.

Almost enough to distract him from the feelings of guilt that would haunt him for the rest of the day.

Tubbo.

I’ll come get you soon.

I promise.

xxxxxxxxxx

“This should be the place.” Tubbo quietly mumbled to himself, carefully hidden from sight. So far, he had barely been able to explore much of the expansive… town? City?

Whatever this place was, with all its structures made out of strange materials, it was massive, incomprehensibly large, and it made him worry all the more about how hard it would be to find Tommy in this mess of a place. To make matters worse, multiple times he had been forced to hide as people made their way across the paths.

All heavily armored and carrying shields, swords, bows, or axes.

This place was dangerous, very dangerous, and the sooner he found Tommy and got out of here, the better. The risk of being found was way too high, and what would happen to them after they were found-

No, he wouldn’t think of such things. Wouldn’t dare to think about the fact that Tommy could be dead, dying all alone-

Despite his efforts, such thoughts consumed his waking mind and permeated his subconscious. Ever since Tommy had first been forced out of Borrowton, Tubbo had not slept. Sure, he napped occasionally, but every time he shut his eyes he could not stop himself from imagining what could happen to Tommy when he was out there, all alone. It ate at him, even when he was awake, and left him far less mindful of his surroundings than he normally was.

As such, he was completely unaware of the figure looming over him until it was too late. Distantly, he noticed something blocking out the sun, a shadow falling over him, and it took him a moment to realize that the shadow was not shaped like a cloud-

He whirled around, terror filling him as he saw a pair of grey hands reaching for him, sunlight somehow streaming through them and making them seem… ghostly, as if they were not really there. He quickly stepped backwards, tripping over his own feet, and dropped to the ground. He cringed as pain raced up his wrists from his hands making impact with the ground, but he ignored it and scuttled backwards.

Unfortunately, he was far too slow to escape or find any sort of shelter to escape the towering being that had cornered him. Just as those hands closed in around him, he heard a cheerful voice ring out above him.

“Hello, friend!”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Did Phil end up spending an unfortunately short amount of time with Tommy? Yes, but that's fine. He'll be spending plenty of time with another borrower in need of emotional support!

#my story #fanfiction #dream smp #dream smp fic #sleepy bois inc #sleepy bois inc fic #borrower au #dsmp tommy #dsmp tubbo #dsmp techno #dsmp philza #dsmp ghostbur #borrower!tommy #borrower!tubbo

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gohyuck · 4 years

Text

↠ na jaemin; assassin in florence, italy, year 1469

the brotherhood: guide

pairing: assassin!na jaemin x renaissance artist!reader; based on assassin’s creed

genre: fluff, angst, suggestive (explicit allusions to sex)

word count: 2.8k

warnings: minor characters die, excessive overuse of the term “my love”

“i have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.” - sarah williams

↳ personality: he’s flirtatious, almost too flirtatious, as he walks through the streets of florence, decked in the beautiful and extravagant cloths of italian nobility; you don’t mind it, though, not when he pulls you from your fruit stall in the central market and into a neighboring alleyway to trail open-mouthed kisses along the column of your neck, tugging your own, coarser neckline down to access the skin he wants to nip at. there’s a tiny hole at your waist where your skirt starts, one you haven’t mended yet, and he doesn’t fail to exploit it, placing his thumb against your skin to rub circles into it as he slips his tongue into your mouth.

there’s something arrogant, but bearable, about the way he carries himself. he’s boisterous, impossible to ignore when out with others. you’re dragged along to lavish parties, draped in dresses he gets specially made for you, even if it’s a life you’re unused to. still, with jaemin, you’re the center of every party. though people whisper about you - how you do not belong to any family, how you stay alone and all by yourself - their badly hidden passing glances bounce off of you when you’re with jaemin.

sometimes, he’s loud even when you’re alone with him, vocal in his pleasure as he forces you deeper, deeper into his mattress, which is a luxury you yourself cannot afford. you firmly believe that he’s the most beautiful in these moments - bare in front of you, larger than life and still so very human all at once. you run your fingers over his collarbones to ground you as your eyes roll back into your head, his own grunts and gentle, loving words muffled against your neck.

other times when you’re alone with him, though, in the little space of your home that you use as a makeshift studio, he’s quiet. jaemin insists on sitting crosslegged in the corner, elbow on his knee and chin in his palm, as he watches you paint. sometimes it’s a sunset, dazzling against the open sky. sometimes it’s a bird you’d seen while peddling your foodstuff. often, it’s jaemin himself - his eyes, especially. there’s something playful but serious, sweet but cunning about them. he’s not one to hide his feelings, but his eyes tell stories nobody else will ever get from his mouth. you always make sure to listen.

↳ origin: you’re forced to watch from the back of the crowd and through a flurry of tears, hand over your mouth and shoulders shaking, as jaemin’s brothers and father are hanged in the center of town, not a stone’s throw away from where your stall usually operates. jaemin himself is nowhere to be seen, but that doesn’t stop worry from pricking at the back of your mind - could they be torturing him extra? the florence nobility are ruthless, even amongst themselves, and you don’t even know what the na’s had done to deserve such a cruel end.

jaemin’s mother had died years ago. he is now all alone in this world. you may be the only soul he has left.

still, even as the bodies are cut down and thrown carelessly into an awaiting cart, you know that you can’t go looking for jaemin. he will come to you when he’s ready, if he’s ever ready. you pray that he’ll be ready.

you sit at home, and you wait.

he drops in through your window that night, scaling your walls by moonlight. jaemin is stoic, silent, and that’s how you know that something, everything is wrong. the air around him is still, and for the first time since you’ve known and loved him, you feel almost suffocated. he has a hood drawn over his head, nowhere near as rich or flashy as the clothing you’re used to seeing him in, and you can just make out glinting metal against his clothes and skin.

you have no time to ask anything, no time to get out a word. he forces what looks like a document - you later find that it’s a letter to you - into your hands before pressing a quick, chaste kiss that holds more meaning than you want it to to your lips. you can’t even move and reach out to touch him before he’s gone, back out the window he’d come through.

in your disarray, something on the document catches your eye, drawing your eyes down towards it.

discard after reading is scrawled on top of the folded parchment.

↳ i have loved the stars too fondly...: you gather up the rainwater from the storm that night in the closest thing to a small tub you have. as you thoroughly soak the paper - tear-stained, already, as it is - running it under the water over and over again as the words into the paper and all of it dissolves into a mushy, inky mess that falls apart in your fingers, you can’t help but wonder why it’s your life that is like this, why it’s your jaemin that must face this.

the words swim before your eyes, running through your mind even as you destroy them.

my father was hanged as he discovered a plot to... displace the medici family, he’d written. the very people he trusted with his knowledge were the ones that had the ropes tied to his neck. i must go - it is no longer safe here for me. more importantly, i must go so they do not come for you. i must go, and train for revenge. you deserve much more than a killer.

the paper is practically destroyed by now, the water entirely murky and a grayish color. still, you continue kneading whatever you can grasp, if only to maintain the little composure you have left.

i will not be back for a long, long time, my love. i should not even be telling you of this, but i have business to attend to far, far away from florence. it is not business you need to find yourself a part of. i will pray nightly that you do not find yourself a part of this aspect of my life. i know you will want to be with me, to care for me, but the best thing you can do for me is live without me. you let out a small whimper as you go over the letter, again and again and again, in your mind’s eye. whatever ‘aspect of his life’ he was talking about is consuming him, you know it because you know jaemin. it’s possible - too possible - that he is no longer a part of your life and that you are no longer a part of his.

you are all that i have left. i cannot promise you much, but if i can promise you anything, it is that i will keep you safe. be well, my love, my adoration, my flower. apple of my eye. be well for the both of us.

forever yours through distance and through time,

jaemin, house of na

you don’t quite want to part with the letter, knowing full well that it may be the last thing you ever get from the love of your life. still, you know you must kill the fact of its existence somehow. the next morning, you throw the leftover papery mush out with the rotting old fruits that remain at your stand after a full day of selling. you ignore the way your hands tremble, the way you wipe your hands hastily on your skirt to be done with the whole affair.

you use the inky water as paint, sheer and gray against your canvas. thicker paint goes on top of it as if to hide your bare soul, your truths, your sins, and though your days are far emptier than they had been, once, you find some respite in your art.

you paint jaemin with the words he’d written specially for you. it takes months, twisting itself into a project with a scale unprecedented to you. you paint a larger-than-life portrait of his face, his hand holding a bitten-into peach - it was meant to be an apple, though you’d miscolored the inside of it - against his thin lips. there’s boredom in his eyes, something you’d never truly seen in them in person. if you give his eyes the feelings you remember seeing reflected in them, you think that you’ll break for good.

the painting of jaemin becomes a symbol of your compartmentalization.

in the mornings and throughout your days, you’re the same fruit vendor you’ve been for ages, trading whatever is in season for much-needed money or amenities. you give children free apples when they run up to you, chat easily with the woman who sells bread right next to you. all is well.

in the evenings, you speak to the painting. it’s no substitute for the real man - jaemin, your jaemin, always responded to your woes by pulling you close and holding you closer - but at least the artwork can’t be made to leave you. you have no anger towards your love - not when you know why he had to go, not when you’d witnessed the gruesome deaths of his family members - but you do have a never-ending sadness. you tell it of your day, of how you grit your teeth subconsciously when you see the people who’d caused the real jaemin to leave. you speak of the things you would’ve painted in your life before what you’ve mentally dubbed The Departure - there was a young child who looked so angelic in the sunlight this morning, a droplet of water against an old man’s beard. your fingers twitch when you speak of creating art, but you make no move to actually do so. you have a feeling you’ve already created your magnum opus.

the nights are the hardest. no matter how hard you try, you cannot escape them - the dreams. flashes of jaemin’s bright smile, snippets of his teasing laughter, soundbytes of his voice against the side of your face as his lips brush against your earlobe, they all haunt you. the feeling of his fingers dragging across your jawline, running down your side, pushing into you as he stares into your eyes with all the love in the world pooled in his own. no matter what you do - covering the painting before going to sleep, switching positions, sleeping fully clothed - you cannot get them to stop.

you ignore the fact that you don’t really want them to.

↳ ...to be fearful of the night.: in the end, over a full year later, it’s your evenings that get you.

there’s not much of an explanation to be gleaned from the men that barge into your living quarters, pull you up from your bed, and tie your wrists together. you’re too harried to make out what they’re saying, but you’re present enough to realize that the painting isn’t covered.

jaemin had been a member of one of the wealthiest and most powerful families in florence once. most everyone knows his face.

you don’t struggle - you can’t, really, but you refuse to even make an effort - because you find no reason. you feel fear, great fear, yes, but there’s nothing you can do about it. from the snippets of harsh conversation that float around you between the men who are twisting your arms, you realize that someone must have heard you speaking to the painting, referring to it as your lost love, not long ago.

you’d never closed the makeshift shutters of your one window in the hope that, someday, jaemin would climb through them again.

before you know it, you’re tossed into a prison cell, wrists raw from rope chafing but finally untied nonetheless. to your surprise, you’re confined alone. this realization almost makes you laugh.

you’re a vip - very important prisoner.

you hope your death is worth it for whatever greater good is out there.

↳ full circle: they decide to hang you at night, under the stars of the city that’s given you so much and taken so much from you. you’re glad - you don’t want an audience to witness your end. you wonder if you’ll join jaemin in the afterlife, or if he’ll join you.

the bag is already over your head and the rope is being placed around your neck by coarse hands that crush purposefully against your windpipe when it happens.

a soft thwack, followed by another, and then two low groans and drawn out gurgles. the pressure against your throat lets up, but you don’t hang. the box underneath your feet remains there. your hands are still tied behind your back, and the itchy bag remains pressing against the skin of your face, but you’re still alive.

why are you still alive?

before you can try to figure out what’s happening around you, someone’s soft breath appears against your neck, and nimble fingers work at pulling the noose off of you and undoing the ropes around your wrists. the bag is lifted last, and your heart jumps to your throat.

although it’s what you’ve been waiting for for all this time, you’re still shaken at seeing jaemin in front of you in all his rugged glory.

he sets his hands on your waist, pulling you off of the box and into his arms at once. although his white robes feel foreign against your skin as you burrow your face into his chest, he still smells the same. the way his hands trek over your back is the same, the way you feel in his arms is the same. you’re overcome, overwhelmed with emotion, and judging by the steel grip he has on you, jaemin feels the same.

“how did you know?” you manage to ask, voice tight with nerves as you survey him and he surveys you. he doesn’t seem to expect you to be afraid; he’s unperturbed by your lack of hysteria. out of your periphery, you can see that the two men who were fated to kill you are now dead, crossbow arrows piercing through both of their throats. you assume the arrows had come from the gauntlet that adorns jaemin’s hand, though you don’t voice this out loud. he smiles down at you - a genuine smile, one that leaks into his eyes - and you realize that he’ll never tell you.

he’s so different from the man you fell in love with, yet he is still so much of the same.

“i’m here to stay, my love, at least to leave my roots here. the danger that forced me to leave no longer exists.” he finally speaks, deflecting your question as you knew he would. jaemin takes one of your hands in one of his, and your fingers trace over the rough callouses of his palms as if it’s second nature. you hear his breath hitch at this, and you realize how likely it is that, whatever he’s been doing, he hasn’t felt the touch of someone that truly loves him in a long, long time.

“even if you leave, you’ll come back, right, my love?” you ask, startling yourself with how your voice wavers at the prospect. the moon illuminates jaemin’s face as he raises a hand to cup your cheek, tracing a thumb against your cheekbone. it comes back wet, and you realize that, sometime in between seeing him for the first time in so long and now, you’ve begun crying. he nods, belatedly answering your question.

“you know,” he starts, and you realize that tears are pricking at the corners of his eyes, too. still, you’re more drawn to the way his lips quirk up. “i always liked to see you cry. for different reasons, of course.”

the tension in the air is not broken entirely, but with his in-character quip, jaemin eases both of you into being around each other again. you smack a hand against his sturdy chest indignantly, though you can’t help the grin that splits your face in half.

“you’re utterly indecent,” you claim as you both finally step off of the base of the gallows. he pulls you into the shadows almost immediately, placing his arm around your shoulders and practically attaching you to his side as he does. his body language screams that he’s worried, but he still cracks a smile at your response. jaemin leans in, his lips brushing your ear.

“take me back to your home and i’ll show you how utterly indecent i can be.” he whispers, and the smirk is audible in his words. as the moon begins illuminating your world and jaemin’s brilliant grin outshines it, you can’t help but think one thing.

maybe everything will be alright, after all.

#jaemin #nct-writers #thekpopnetwork #kwritersworldnet #jaemin fluff #jaemin angst #jaemin smut #na jaemin #jaemin x reader #jaemin scenario #jaemin scenarios #nct #nct dream #nct dream scenario #nct dream scenarios #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #nct smut #nct dream smut

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liklty · 3 years

Text

Wizard And Sorceress - Hisirdoux Casperan | Becoming: Part 4

Plot: (Y/N) (L/N), a 17-year-old girl who has long known she was a sorceress, has been roped into her cousin’s Trollhunter adventures alongside a couple of friends.

Word Count: 3129

Warning: Swearing and poor writing towards the end

A/N: Hello! If you were wondering, I’m not dead! Sorry if I didn’t update this story in quite a while. I was just really busy with school and I kind of struggled with motivation when it came to writing this chapter, but I pulled through! For what’s it worth, I really hope you guys enjoys todays chapter. I’m thinking having my update schedule to be every 2nd Tuesday, if that makes sense, and I hope to keep with that moving forward! Also, just to give you guys a little heads up, Douxie is probably going to appear after a couple of chapters, so get ready for that :3 Sorry that it isn’t sooner.

Also, I wanted to give a big thanks to @wanda-peitro-lorna-maximoff from coming up with the nickname, “Young Hecate” Stickler has for the reader! I just love that nickname so, so much, so thank you for allowing me to use it in my story!

“So, what did you decide?” As the three of you walked through the locker room, Toby asked the taller boy, nudging Jim's arm with his elbow.

“That if anyone finds out what happened in my kitchen last night, all of us will be committed,” Jim replied, his face serious as he looked at Toby.

“I meant about kicking Steve’s butt.” Toby clarified while karate-style chopping and punching motions with his hands.

Jim told him, “Give up the dream, Tobes,” as he walked ahead of the two of you.

You heard a brief dinging sound that disappeared as quickly as it came. From where you were walking, you saw the amulet, which was in Jim's bag pocket, shining softly. You drew your brows together. Toby seemed to have noticed it as well, as he grabbed Jim's backpack and stopped the boy as the brunette peered into your cousin's bag pocket. You, too, came to a halt and looked.

“Does this thing run on batteries?” As you heard the bell ring in the distance, Toby asked, moving his head to get a better look.

“What’s it doing?” You wondered as you took a closer look.

“How should I know?” Jim whispered, his hand covering your view of the amulet, “It didn’t come with a manual.”

“Does it feel like you’re going to, you know, change?” The shorter boy asked, taking a quick glance around.

“Oh no,” Jim breathed out, his shoulders slumping and eyes widening in realization.

“Oh-oh! Then we gotta get you somewhere that isn’t here!” You said this as you hurriedly considered where you and Toby might take Jim.

Toby nodded and forcefully shoved Jim into the boy’s changing room behind him, leaving you by yourself lonesome.

“I- oh.” You mumbled to yourself, debating whether you should wait outside or go somewhere else so you don't seem strange for standing outside the boy's locker room.

You turned around after deciding to stand by a nearby locker and immediately collided with someone. You staggered back and quickly looked up, apologizing frantically, your brain not completely registering who you had collided with.

“It’s quite alright, Young Hecate.” A familiar male voice informed you.

You blinked twice before lighting up.

“Oh, hello Mr. Strickler!” You greeted the man with a smile to which he returned.

“How are you doing? How are your lessons going?” He asked you.

“I'm good and I'm doing well in my classes,” You nodded, swinging back on your heels before leaning forward on your toes, “But math is super hard! I’m not sure how I’ll make it through it! It’s going to absolutely kill me!” You wined, straightening your back and waving your hands around.

“You're a smart kid, (Y/N),” Stickler chuckled and patted your head with his pen. “I'm certain you'll be able to get through the year with at least one of your brain cells intact.” He said, making you laugh.

“A girl can dream,” You said, patting the area above your chest as you closed your eyes.

“I’ll see you later.” He said, bidding you farewell as the two of you parted ways.

You peered from the corner of your eye to see the man enter the locker room. You came to a halt and stared at the entrance, nervousness rising in your stomach. You hoped Jim wouldn't be caught.

----

“Give me my Romeo and when he shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars and he will make the face of heaven so fine that all of the worlds will be in love with night.” Claire recited on stage, performing for the role of Juliet for the play, Romeo and Juliet.

When she was finished, the small crowd in front of her started to applaud.

“It would have been easier to tell him that I’m a Trollhunter. I don’t even know the play.” Jim told you both, frustration evident in his voice.

You, Jim, and Toby were tucked away to the side of the stage in the school's gymnasium. Toby had told you that Mr. Strickler had seen Jim in his armor back in the boys changing room and Jim, in a panic, had told him that he was going to audition for Romeo in the school play while the three of you were rushing to get to the gym earlier.

“Thank you, Ms. Nunez.” Ms. Janeth said to Claire.

When Claire approached Jim, her arms crossed and a grin on her face, the girl nodded, and the sounds of clapping died away, “John?” She asked.

“Um, Jim.” The boy corrected her.

“And here I thought you didn’t like Shakespeare.”

“Oh, no, he’s my favorite. I totally love him.”

“That costume,” Claire started, gesturing in disbelief and awe at Jim's armor, “Is incredible. Did you make it?”

“No,” Toby replied, drawing your gaze to him, “He discovered a magical amulet that does it.”

“You're funny,” Claire chuckled as you and Jim glared at him.

You slapped Toby’s shoulder, earning a “Hey!” from the brunette, “Yeah, you’re a real comedian, huh?”

“Next!” Ms. Janeth called out.

"I believe that's your cue," Claire said as she stepped back and pointed to the stage. “Break a leg,” She said, keeping her hands behind her back.

As he walked towards the center of the stage, Jim muttered under his breath, "I'd prefer that."

“Good luck, Jim!” You cheered.

Your cousin grinned and gave you a little nod as he looked at you. When they observed his ‘costume,' people murmured in surprise and Jim gave a nervous chuckle.

“Who are you?” Ms. Janeth inquired, her brows furrowed at him and her pen pointing in his direction.

“James Lake Junior.” He responded timidly.

“And what are you trying out for?”

“Uh, Romeo.”

“Well, we are all ears.” Ms. Janeth said, jotting down a few things on her clipboard.

Jim caught a glimpse of you and Toby, who gave him a reassuring smile and two thumbs up. He gave Claire a quick glance before looking away, a slight smile tugging at his lips before forming a thin line.

“Destiny is...” Jim started after taking a deep breath. “A gift,” he said as he closed his eyes for a few moments before opening them. He chuckled as he looked at his amulet.

“Some go their entire lives living an existence of quiet desperation, never learning the truth that what feels as though a burden pushing down upon out shoulders,” He drew his sword from his holster and pointed it at the small crowd, eliciting a few gasps, “Is actually the sense of purpose that lifts us to greater heights. Never forget that fear is but the precursor to valor.”

You smiled when you noticed the stunned audience before returning your attention to your cousin's performance.

“That to strive and triumph in the face of fear is what it means to be a hero.” Jim raised his sword and aimed it at the ceiling, “Don’t think.” He spun the weapon around, causing the drama teacher to cower in her chair and hide behind her clipboard, her eyes peered over the edge. Jim swung the sword back into his back in one swift motion, “Become.”

The crowd clapped enthusiastically, with a few people also getting up to do so.

“Um, thank you.” Jim thanked sheepishly.

Eli stood up and stomped away, throwing his sword to the ground angrily. You couldn’t help but giggle.

----

As the three of you rode home on your bikes, a bell clang could be heard in the distance, and the sun was setting in the background, painting the cloudless sky with purple and orange hues.

“Dude! That was amazing! You were amazing! I’m amazed at how amazing you are!” From your left, Toby exclaimed cheerfully, making you smile.

“I can’t believe you were able to do that!” You cheered, “You were great!”

“I can’t believe I did that too!” Jim said.

“And did you see how the Chiquita was looking at you?” Toby smirked as he crossed his arms and balanced his body on the seat of his bike, “Your armor totally did you a favor.”

“I’m still getting the hang of it,” Jim admitted, unsureness indicated in his voice.

“Blinky said it reacts to your emotional state, right?” You began, “The-”

Toby had then collided with a wooden plank on the side of the road and swerved to the side, his bike wobbling as he tried to recover his balance. He returned to your side after that, Jim softly chuckling.

“Are you alright?” You asked, your brows furrowed in worry.

“Oh, yeah. I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.” Toby responded, chuckling nervously.

“Ok good.” You turned back to Jim, “Anyway, the armor appears when you’re in distress.”

As the three of you rounded the corner, Jim said, "But I wasn't in distress back at school."

When the three of you spotted a massive, dark beast with a set of horns and what appeared to be swords attached to his back standing on the other end of the street, you and the others came to a halt. It roared, making you all finch back and weep in fear.

Jim straightened his back and said, "But I am now."

“Trollhunter. Merlin’s creation,” The beast growled, getting down on all fours and stomping the ground with one fist, “Gunmar’s bane.”

Toby whispered to Jim, leaning against his side, "I think he's talking to you."

Yeah, no shit.

The beast roared once more before rising and stomping on the ground with his hand. He took a step to the side before stomping on all fours again. When he got closer, you saw a small portion of his hand go into the sun's light, which made him hiss and recoil.

Huh, his weakness must be sunlight!

“Guys, take a look. He can't go into the sun,” You said quietly, drawing their attention to you, “It hurt him.”

“Not for much longer!” Toby said as the sun started to set.

God fuckin damn it.

“The amulet!” The beast said, his voice booming, “Surrender it and I will give you a speedy death.”

“Doesn’t know how to negotiate, this guy. Go, go, go!”

As the large horned beast chased after you, the three of you screamed and raced towards the nearest corner. You rounded the corner and hid in the limited space between two trucks. Your heart raced when you heard a growl nearby.

“Hurry up!” You hissed shakily, “Put your armor on, please!”

A loud clank was heard, followed by the sound of a big truck being thrown. You rubbed the area above your chest, trying to keep your breathing steady.

“Okay. For the glory of Merlin, Daylight is mine to command.” Your eye twitched as the amulet softly glowed a blue colour before fading away. Jim's eyes widen as he exclaims, “It’s not working!”

When you heard heavy footsteps approaching, all of you slipped behind the truck quietly. You clenched your handlebars tightly when you heard growling.

“For the glory of Merlin, Daylight is mine to command.” Jim repeated, but nothing happened, “Seriously, it’s mine to command. I’m commanding here!”

The truck in front of you was raised, and your gaze was snapped in that direction.

“Centuries of Trollhunters and I will have killed two in almost as many days.”

“Oh no! He’s good at math!” You and Toby both yelled, and the three of you booked it on your bikes.

He hurled the truck at the three of you, and fortunately, you all narrowly avoided being hit as you made a sharp turn that nearly caused you to crash into the ground. Your pulse was quickly pounding through your ears, and adrenaline was coursing through your veins.

When the beast leaped in front of you, the three of you swerved out of the way, avoiding the beast's brash arms. You peered over your shoulder as he pursued you and fired a beam at him, causing him to fall back a little.

“Head down Delancy!” Jim demanded s you, him, and Toby made another turn to avoid another truck coming your way.

“Behind Stuart Electronic!” Jim ordered as he glanced behind him.

“You know I can’t fit there!” Toby complained.

“You got this!” You said, trying to offer Toby some encouragement.

“No, I don’t!”

“You’ve been on a diet remember?” Jim pushed his way into the narrow alleyway with you trailing close behind.

Toby became trapped when he reached the alleyway and tried desperately to move forward saying, “I can’t fit! I can’t fit!”

You and Jim came to a halt at the end of the alleyway and you fired another beam into the beast's eye, causing him to hiss in agony, saying, "I'm going to have your head sorcerer!"

“Please don’t!” You said.

“I can fit! I can fit! I can fit!” Toby chanted happily as he made his way closer to you, “I fitted! Yay diet!”

Before you and your friend rode off towards the bridge and biked over it, you gave him a big smile and congratulated him. The three of you came to a halt around the final curve, panting heavily. You closed your eyes and leaned your forearms on your bike handlebars. Your legs were killing you and you absolutely hated that.

“Look at me, look at me. We’re not dead, right?” Toby asked, his face lying between his palms.

“Master Jim!” You turned your head towards the source after hearing a familiar voice chuckled. You, Jim, and Toby were approached by Blinky and Aaarrrgghh. Blinky was waving at you, Toby, and Jim while Aaarrrgghh was hiding behind a bush, “Ha-ha!”

“Bular’s trying to kill us! He chased us all over town!” Jim screamed as he approached the two trolls.

You sighed softly as you sluggishly followed. Toby was close behind.

“You have a sweet voice, but you bring death with you!” With a finger pointed at Blinky, Toby said.

You let out a shaky laugh.

“You can fight him, right?” Jim asked optimistically.

“I could not hope to possess the skill to defeat Bular.” Blinky answer as the troll trolls laughed.

“What about him?” You questioned, gesturing weakly to Aaarrrgghh, “He’s buff.”

“Pacifist,” Aaarrrgghh said, tilting his head slightly.

“Seriously?” Jim said in disbelief.

Toby patted his arm and said, "Man, what a waste of a hulking brute."

“Thank you.”

“This is why there is a Trollhunter, Master Jim.” Blinky explained, “Aaarrrgghh renounced the violent path ages ago.”

Oh?

Bular jumped out and growled at all of you before anyone could say anything else. Blinky had told you all to join him and that you'd be safe in a place called Heartstone Trollmarket if you did. So that's what you did when the giant beast chased after you, shrieking.

You were sobbing in your head, desperately not wanting to continue pedaling to your limits. Perhaps you should just let Bular kill you so you can be free of this torment. You swear this is the most physical activity you've ever done in your life.

Bular knocked down a row of street lamps, causing Toby to collide into one of the fallen lamps and was launch into the air. Fortunately, Aaarrrgghh had caught him and immediately laid the boy on his back. You were riding down the path towards the canal and you screamed as you slide down the canal at high speeds on your bike.

You used your magic to bring your bike to a stop, causing you to jerk forward and groan. You sloppily dismounted and dashed toward the two trolls and Toby. You watched as Jim was finally able to wear his armor and landed on the cement floor of the canal.

Jim was in a combat stance, but after seeing Bular coming at him, he noped it real hard and booked it towards you. When you, Binky, and Toby tried to persuade him to take on the beast, Bular leaped in front of him. His blade flashed a vibrant blue hue when it struck Bular, sending them both sliding in opposite directions.

“Hurry! We must open the portal!” Blinky said as he took out a flickering orange object that looked like a miniature sword from his pocket and tossed it at Aaarrrgghh, who caught it.

Aaarrrgghh carved out a semi-circle into the wall with the orange object and punched it, causing it to crack. When it released a blue colour, the fragments started to hover out of the way, creating an entrance.

“Jim!” You call out, “Hurry up!”

“I’m a little busy here!” Jim responded, trying to fight off the beast, which only resulted in futile.

Jim dashed towards you, but the portal began to close.

“Come on, Jim, hurry!” Toby exclaimed, reaching out his hand.

Your heart sank when the portal closed, but thankfully, Aaarrrgghh reopened the portal, although barely, and dragged Jim to the other side. After that, the gateway was instantly closed. You and the boys took deep breaths while the adrenaline levels steadily dropped after the rush.

“He nearly… We nearly… He almost…” Jim said breathlessly.

“Nearly what, Master Jim? Speak up.”

“He almost killed us!” Jim exclaimed, raising his hands into the air.

“‘Almost’! A very important word.” Blinky said, turning around as you and the younger boys looked at him with disbelief, “A life of ‘almost’ is a life of never.”

“Why’d the armor suddenly shut off?” Jim said as you all followed Blinky.

“Master Jim, you are the first human to possess an amulet crafted for trolls.” Blinky stated, “It’s to be expected its behavior will be… unexpected.”

After passing through a very wide doorway, you noticed the dark crystals pinned to the wall below you, creating a staircase that led all the way down. The crystals started to take on a blue hue, illuminating the pit and making it look absolutely beautiful.

“Woah.” You and Toby exhaled deeply and leaned forward.

You latched to Aaarrrgghh's arm, terrified of falling to your death.

“Are you sure we’re safe in here?” Jim asked as you all made it down the staircase.

“Indeed. The incantation forbids entry to Heartstone Trollmarket by GummGumms such as Bular, for they are the most fearsome of trolls.” Blinky said as you all managed to get to the end, “Now, Master Jim.” Blinky said, turning Jim to look the other way.

You strolled over to Toby’s side.

“This is the world you are bound to protect.”

As you take in the stunning scenery in front of you, your mouths were agape. Hearthstone Trollmarket appeared to be made up of a number of buildings and stairwells arranged around the town. Throughout the place, there were various minerals and crystals that provided lighting, and in the middle of it all was a massive amber-like crystal that towered above everything.

“This is Heartstone Trollmarket!”

#hisirdoux x reader #hisirdoux casperan x reader #douxie x reader #douixe imagine #douxie casperan x reader #toa imagine #tales of arcadia imagine

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lailannajacobs · 3 years

Text

Good Intentions & Broken Promises | Prologue

Pairing: fey!Loki x fem!reader

Chapter Summary: You’re summoned before Odin while Loki learns there’s a storm coming.

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: This little chapter is a set up for what’s to come so it’s not the most exciting, but I hope you enjoy all the same! I’m really excited about this fic and I’d love to know what you think! <3

There was never anything good about being summoned before Odin. Not the first time it had happened and not any time since. The only difference between then and now was that you knew what to expect, and unfortunately for you, it was never anything good. You jut up your chin, the anger thrumming through your veins keeping you warm.

Every step you took down the pristine, snow-white hallways to the throne room felt like a march toward death; only the death you were walking toward wasn’t your own. You couldn’t explain why this time felt different, but you knew deep in your bones that it was. You could handle it if it was your life on the line. You’d been trained to accept that your life would always be second. What you couldn’t handle was knowing that if he asked you for the impossible, you would lose the only person you cared about — the one person that was alive, not only because you loved her, but because she was too important to be killed by the tyrant sitting on the throne. Your only mission was to keep your sister alive. Everything else, including revenge, came second.

Your escorts pushed open the doors, freezing air rushing out into the hall to greet you. The king, like most people in this realm, thrived in the cold, their powers akin to the everlasting winter that was Niflheim. All the Frost creatures had varying degrees of power, but none that match that of the king. Sitting on a throne carved from ice, the palace was almost as cold and cruel as he was, the cold biting through your thin sweater. For the average human, the palace was practically unbearable, but you were neither human nor a Frost creature. Your ability to blend in with humans was the only reason he had never found out who you were — the reason both of you were still alive.

King Odin brushed back his white hair, tiny flurries of snow bursting at the movement. He appeared uninterested by your arrival, half asleep on the throne, but the slip in control of his magic spoke otherwise. Something had pissed him off and you weren’t sure you wanted to know what it was. His icy blue eyes narrowed and you were afraid he could sense that you were itching to find your sister somewhere in the palace so you could grab her and run so far he’d never reach you. The day he had captured you, Odin had made her a part of his court as collateral for your good behaviour — a decision he’d only made after torturing her so that I would agree to work for him. It was nothing more than a glorified prison, but at least she wasn’t in the dungeon.

Making sure your face was nothing more than emotionless mask, you waited, refusing to speak before he did.

“Vojak,” he used the native term for soldier. He’d never once spoken your name and you seriously doubted he could figure it out to save his life.

You bowed deeply, “I am yours to command.”

The words tasted like acid in your mouth and you fought the urge to straighten and wreak havoc on the palace, knowing you were far too outnumbered, even with your abilities, for both of you to make it out alive. For now, you had to play the obedient soldier until you thought of a way to get you and your sister out, and you held the bow until he told you to rise. Even now, after decades of ruling, Odin never tired of watching his subjects bow to his power. You could only dream of wiping the sneer from his face.

“Enter Natasha,” he barked.

Your sister walked into the throne room, head down, with two guards flanking her. Her face was paler than usual, with dark circles under her eyes, but otherwise, she seemed unharmed. It didn’t mean you could breath any easier. The fancy dress and meticulously braided hair was a poor attempt to hide the fact that he hated humans and was biding his time before he could revive the war on purity.

Nat refused to look at you. You didn’t want her to either. Any shared look could mean either of your deaths, no matter how innocent. Her fingers tapped twice at her side, somewhat easing the pressure on your chest. Two taps: I’m okay. Your own tapped three times on your pant leg: I love you.

“I have need of a book,” King Odin boomed, jolting everyone to attention.

Your heart dropped in your chest, dreading what he would say next. There was no doubt in your mind which book he was referring to. After all, there had only ever been one book worth having for a power-hungry narcissist. Only the book was a myth; it didn’t exist. You rolled back your shoulders, counting the massive icicles dripping from the vaulted ceiling to keep from crying out or attempting to kill him before your failure brought his wrath down on Nat. You tried not to let your emotions carry you away. He hadn’t asked for the impossible yet. He could be talking about any book. You didn’t need to get riled up and do something stupid.

“The Hand of Damnation,” the words, spoken so casually, sucked the air from your lungs and you couldn’t breathe, “I have word that it’s in Asgard. I need it. Retrieve it before the Orange Moon.”

He didn’t need to threaten you; the words went unspoken. If you didn’t get the book — the most infamous artefact in the nine realms — then your sister would die, but not before a long and torturous session to remind you of your failures. It didn’t matter that he was asking for the impossible. It didn’t matter that Asgard was an island with nothing other than rumour coming out of it. It didn’t matter that since the war, the magic-welding Fey had closed their borders except for their port town. All you knew for sure was that anyone who got past that town didn’t come back out, all you had were six moons to get in, get the book, and get out.

A guard stepped away form the king’s side and handed you a black pendant, no bigger than an apricot seed hanging off a thin, black rope. There was no design on it, and to anyone else it wouldn’t look like anything other than a simple gemstone, but you knew different. You’d been handed the horrible thing too many times before. When it turned white and freezing , your time was up. You slipped it around your neck, already feeling like it was strangling you — another gruesome reminder of what would happen if you failed.

You lifted your chin, surprised by the sound of your voice when you said, “consider it done.”

Gamora walked into the courtyard, an expression on her face that Loki couldn’t decipher — not that he’d ever had much luck knowing what she was thinking. All he knew for sure was that whatever she was coming to tell him couldn’t be good.

“Found anything?” he asked by way of greeting.

She stopped a foot away, the gentle breeze ruffling her long, dark hair, “nothing of concern to me.”

A sense of dread gripped his stomach and he jammed his hands into his pockets to keep from fidgeting. Whenever Gamora wasn’t needed in Asgard, she was gone, searching the other realms for a way to break her curse. She shouldn’t have been here today. She should have been in Alfheim, which could only mean that whatever she’d seen had been too important to ignore. Loki wasn’t sure he wasn’t to know what it was.

Still, he found himself asking, “how bad?”

She fixed her gaze on him, her dark soulless eyes the only indication of what she truly was, and confirmed what he’d already guessed at, “enough death to have brought me back.”

“Can I stop it?”

She was already here so his question was in vain, but he’d needed to ask it anyways.

“Not all of it,” she stated with absolute certainty.

Loki shivered, though he knew it had nothing to do with the weather. He wanted to ask her how to stop it, but the how was a question she’d always refused to answer. Loki didn’t know if she refused because she couldn’t tell him or because she didn’t want to, but he knew there were other questions she would answer that were worth almost as much.

“What causes it?” he asked.

Her lips puckered in disgust, the most emotion he’d seen on her face in a long time, “your sister is coming. Hella intends to take back the throne.”

#Loki Laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki x you #loki x reader #loki #loki x female reader #loki x y/n #fake dating

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thebrotherssalvatore321 · 3 years

Text

Keeping Secrets Ch. 16

Keeping Secrets Masterlist

Pairings: Damonxoc, Tylerxoc, Elijahxoc, Klausxoc endgame. Warning: Mentions of mental and physical abuse.

Katie stood in her bedroom looking at herself in the full length mirror. Her dark red hair was pinned in a sideswiped style, the nicest thing about her look for her date tonight. Tyler had told her to wear something casual. So she simply wore distressed dark wash skinny jeans, red flats and a black long sleeved Henley shirt.

She was applying a thin layer of clear lip gloss when her text chime dinged and she looked at her phone to see a message from Tyler, “Change of plans. Meet me at the Grill.”

Katie texted back, “Okay, leaving now.” Then tossed her lip gloss in her bag, grabbed her keys and headed out.

When she pulled up to the grill she noticed it looked busy for a Sunday night, but she brushed it off and headed inside to meet Tyler. As soon as she stepped inside everyone yelled “Happy birthday!” as they blew horns, twirled noise makers and popped of party poppers. Katie yelped and jumped back, completely taken off guard causing everyone to laugh.

“Sorry, I got roped in at the last minute.” Tyler said with a shrug as he stepped out of the crowd. “I blame them.” He said with a point at Bonnie, Caroline and Elena standing a few feet away from them with smiles on their faces.

“Hey, don’t blame us.” Bonnie laughed and held her hands up in surrender

“Yeah, we know you hate surprises.” Caroline added.

“We were just going to give you your gifts at school tomorrow like we always do.” Elena said with a guilty look.

“Then whose idea was it?” Katie asked with a look around.

“That would be me.” Damon spoke up as he strutted out of the crowd with a cocky smirk on his face. “I wasn’t aware that you hated surprises.” he told her as he walked over to her. When Damon got too close for comfort, Tyler wrapped his arm around Katie’s waist. Damon looking at Katie, cut his eyes over at Tyler “Give me a minute with the birthday girl?”

Tyler looked at Katie, silently asking her if she wanted to be left alone with him. “I’ll just be a minute.” she said awkwardly and he kissed her then walked off. When she was out of sight she looked up at Damon.

“Happy birthday.” He told her with a smile as he showed her a metal clasp envelop.

“What is that?” she asked as she tried to take it from him, but he jerked it up out of her reach.

“Your birthday present.” He told her with a look that told her it was the obvious answer.

“Yeah I realize that, but what’s in it?” she asked getting playfully snippy with him.

“It’s a surprise that you’re going to have to wait till the end of the night for.” He told her as he brought it back down to her level. “So I’m going to ask you not to bring your boyfriend home with you tonight, because I want to be with you when you open it.” he told her as he held the envelop out to her. She started to take it, but he pulled it back. “Deal?”

“Deal.” She told him and he handed her the envelope. “I’ll go put it in the car and I promise I won’t peak at it.”

When she got in from putting the envelop in her car she met up with her friends where they stood at a table with a few gifts on it. “Open them.” Caroline told her cheerfully then announced to the room that it was time for gifts.

“I’m going to murder Damon.” Katie mumbled under her breath as the people that had brought gifts gathered around, which wasn’t a lot of people. Most of the people in the grill, making it so packed were just there for the party atmosphere, not because they knew or cared about Katie.

“This one’s from us.” Elena told her as she picked up a white, oblong box with a teal bow tied around it.

Katie untied the bow and took the lid off the box revealing a bracelet with three different colored star charms hanging on the chain. “Best friends are like stars. You may not always see them, but they’re always there.” She read the inscription on the underside of the lid out loud. “Aw, you guys…” she got engulfed in a group hug. “Thank you.” she told them as they let go of her then turned back to the gift table as Bonnie walked off to join the onlookers and Elena moved to stand with Stefan and watch her open the rest of her gifts.

Caroline picked up a square brown box with a navy blue bow tied around it. “That’s from me.” Tyler spoke up and walked over to stand beside her while she opened it. “I was going to give it to you on our date tonight but then this happened.” He said with a motion to the room.

“It defiantly smells good.” Katie comment as she untied the bow then lifted the flaps of the box the revealing 10 thin bars of soap. She took out the card and read, “Enjoy these little leftovers of our handmade all natural soaps.” She smiled at Tyler. “Who told you I like hand made soap?” he pointed to Caroline who just shrugged. She looked back at Tyler and pressed a lingering kiss to his lips. “Thank you.”

“One more.” Caroline told Katie, as she picked up a thin, rectangle, unwrapped white gift box. “Who’s this one from?” Caroline asked looking on the box for any indication of who it was from, but she found nothing. “Okay, well, here’s this one.” She shrugged and handed the box to Katie.

She popped open the scotch tape that was holding the box closed and took the lid off. White glittery tissue paper covered the gift so she lifted it up revealing a framed picture of Katie, Tyler, Caroline, Matt, Elena, Stefan and Bonnie that had been taken at the Christmas festival. The picture was framed in a thick, silver, metal frame with rhinestones inset into it. “I really wish I knew who this was from.” Katie said feeling an overwhelming amount of love for everyone in the picture who were also watching her open her gifts. None of them seemed to give any indication of who it was from. So Katie set the photo back in the box and stacked the other, smaller gift boxes on top of it.

Seeing that she was about to take the gifts to her car to get them out of the way, Damon stepped up and took them from her. “I’ve got that, you enjoy the party. Pretty sure Caroline’s about to shove cake down your throat.” He said with a nod at Caroline.

She was bringing out a cake with cobalt blue icing flowers on the corners of it. Caroline lit the candles and everyone in the restaurant started singing happy birthday. Katie blew out the candles setting off another round of horns, noisemakers and party poppers.

While everyone else ate cake Katie and Tyler danced. They took a break to eat dinner with her friends then when the night was over Tyler walked with her to her car, kissed her good night then they went their separate ways. Katie wished that she hadn’t told Damon that she wouldn’t bring Tyler home with her, she had been looking forward to spending time with him, but she had promised. So she went home alone.

When she walked into her room and set her gifts down on her bed. She was about to open the envelope Damon had given her when she heard a knock on her window. Damon was standing on her roof, outside her window. Katie walked over and opened it. “Since when do you knock?”

“You’ll see. Now, invite me in so we can open your gift.” he said then smirked at her.

“Okay…” she drawled. “Damon Salvatore will you please get your ass inside my house so that I may open my birthday gift?” she asked with sarcasm dripping from her words.

“Thank you smart ass.” He told her as he ducked inside then sat down on her bed. He patted the spot next to him so she sat down. He watched her lift up the metal tabs of the clasp then pull out a stack of papers. “There was a reason I didn’t want you to open this at the party.” He warned her as she looked at the first piece of paper.

“You got the house put in my name?” she asked with a look from the paper to him.

“Yep.” He popped the p at the end of the word. “You are officially legally able to kick your grand father out of your house.”

“I think I’ll keep him around for a little while. He pays some of the bills that I can’t.” she told him with a frown.

“Keep going.” He motioned to the papers.

As she flipped through copies of news articles from New Orleans and reports from private investigators she started realizing what this was and why Damon hadn’t wanted her to look at it at the party. “Oh my god.” Katie covered her mouth at the image of her mother’s dead body. A wooden stake was sticking out of her chest, her skin blue with protruding veins. As she continued through the paper work she found out that her mothers body had been shipped to the Mystic Falls mortuary where it was incinerated and disposed of. “All it says about my father is that he’s still missing and has an empty grave in the Mystic Falls cemetery.” She pointed out with a confused look at Damon.

He took the envelope from her and looked inside then pulled out a color photo of her father exiting a brightly lit bar in New Orleans. Damon pointed at the time stamp in the bottom corner. “I took this myself.”

“My father’s still alive?” she asked with a wide eyes smile.

“Yes and no.” he answered glumly making Katie’s smile fade and her heart sink.

“He’s a vampire.” She said more than asked and he nodded. “You obviously got close enough to snap this picture. Did you talk to him?”

“I didn’t let him know I knew you.” he said with a frown. “I casually mentioned that I hated making myself stay away from my human family.” He explained. “I got him drunk enough that he mentioned his daughter, Scarlett.”

A tear slipped down her cheek at the memory of her father chasing her down the hall as a little girl, calling her Scarlett as she ran away screaming and giggling. “He always called me his Scarlett.”

“Katie he…” Damon started reluctantly as she wiped the tear and put on a strong face, “He made it clear that he would never have anything to do with you. He said you were better off without him. That it wasn’t safe for you to have a vampire in your life and he hoped you never learned about us.”

Katie’s brows creased as she struggled to keep confused, hurt tears from falling. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she asked.

“I don’t know.” Damon told her with a pained look.

She stood up, placing her hand over the pendant that hung around her neck as she started pacing the room. “How…how could he just…” she was losing the battle with her tears, taking beep breaths in a futile attempt to calm herself. “How could he leave me here?” she could no longer talk or pace as tears flooded her face and sobs shook her shoulders.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Damon stood up and placed his hand on her shoulder, “come here.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her face into the crook of his neck. He threaded his fingers into her hair, cupping the back of her head as he shushed her soothingly. After a few minutes he scooped her up and laid her on her bed. “Be right back.” he told her quietly then went to her bathroom and grabbed a soft wash rag and wet it. When he walked back into her room he saw that she had sat up and was leaning against the head board with her knees pulled up. Her arms rested across them. “Didn’t mean to make you cry on your birthday.” He told her as he handed her the rag and sat down beside her.

“It’s my party. I’ll cry if I want to.” She joked flatly as she took off her glasses and wiped her face. Damon smiled a little and rubbed the small of her back. Katie tilted her head back, resting in against the headboard behind her and draped the rag over her face. When the rag got warm, she took it off of her face and tossed it into the clothes basket across the room. Damon looked down at her as she leaned over resting her head on his shoulder. “It’s always felt like there was this huge blank space in my life, not knowing if my parents were alive or lying dead in a ditch somewhere…” As she spoke Damon moved them around so they were lying across the bed. “I used to tell myself that they got dragged into some cult or mafia madness and couldn’t come back for me because they had been placed in witness protection.” She snuggled into his side placing her hand on the expensive black button up shirt that covered his chest. He slid his slender hand over hers holding it in place. “It’s a stupid story I know, but now I don’t have to come up with stories. I don’t know the whole true one, but I at least know the ending.” She tilted her head up to look him in the eyes. “Thank you for filling in some of that blank.”

He gave her a small smile as he cupped her cheek in his hand. “You’re welcome.” When she laid her head back down on his shoulder he kissed the top of her head and wrapped his arms around her. Things fell quiet as they both got lost in thought and the feel of each other. So Katie was confused when Damon said, “It was Stefan by the way.”

“What?” she asked with a frown up at him.

“The famed picture. It was from Stefan.” He elaborated. “He didn’t want to upset his jealous little girlfriend or your boyfriend.”

“Huh, never would’ve guessed it was from him.” She said as she sat up, pulled the box out from under the others that sat on the foot of her bed and pulled the photo out.

Damon sat up and looked at it over her shoulder. “Gotta admit, I’m kinda bummed I’m not in that picture.” Katie looked at him over her shoulder with a frown. “What?”

I just realized that I don’t have a single picture of us.” She stated.

“Here.” Damon grabbed her phone, pulled up the camera then leaned in and pressed his cheek to hers as he snapped a picture. She laughed as he propped his chin up on her shoulder and took another one. She was turning to kiss him on the cheek and he was about to kiss her on hers when their lips brushed. They both paused and looked into each others eyes for a second. Katie’s slipped closed as he closed the few centimeters of space between their lips causing her heart to race.

Without meaning to Damon snapped a picture then the phone slipped from his hand to her bed as he wrapped both of his arms around her waist. All too soon the fog cleared from Katie’s mind and she looked away from Damon, breaking the kiss. “Damon I-”

“You love Tyler.” He finished for her and she nodded. “I know. I’d have to be blind to not see it.”

“I’m sorry.” She whispered, her eyes getting misty as she closed them and pressed her forehead to his. “You told me to stop stringing you along and choose. I choose him. I choose normal and simple.”

“You’re happy. Don’t be sorry for that Katie Cat.” He whispered then pulled his head back to see her open her eyes and give him a look that asked if he was okay. “I’m not going to go murder anyone if that’s what that worried look is about.” She just rolled her eyes and gave him another look that told him to be serious. “I know how to admit defeat.”

“Who are you trying to fool?” she asked sarcastically.

“Okay so I’m a selfish, sore loser.” He admitted and she cracked a small smile. “But I love you. So I’ll settle for friends.” He said as he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. Her eyes slipped closed when he brushed his thumb over her cheek bone and she heard the whoosh of him leaving through the window. She opened her eyes to see the curtains blowing in the wind.

She picked up her phone to see the picture of them kissing on the screen. An ache shot through her chest at the sight she had never seen before. Knowing she couldn’t keep it on her phone for Tyler to possibly see she emailed it to herself, saved it to her computer then deleted it from her phone.

~Eight Days Later~

She stood in the dressing room of the founder’s hall taking the rollers out of her hair while wearing a corset and puffy skirt to fill out the white and green dress that Scarlett O'hara wore to the party at the beginning of Gone with the Wind. After she finished her hair complete with green bows that matched the dress on each side of her head where her hair was pinned up to look like Scarlett's, she put on the dress and headed outside.

As she headed to the float her eyes found Damon and Stefan staring at Elena in her time era dress making Katie realize that they both were probably feeling like they had been jerked back in time. She ignored them and was walking past them when she heard Damon call out in an Irish accent, "Katie Scarlett!" She found herself smiling as she stopped and turned around to see him walking toward her. "You took the theme and your name a little far don’t you think?”

"I've always wanted an excuse to wear this dress." She said with a smile down at her outfit.

"The 1800s really suit you." He told her as he walked closer and adjusted one of the green bows making her roll her eyes. "Seriously if you were alive back then every man within a fifty mile radius would've been fighting to be your beau."

"And would you have been one of them?" She asked being coy.

"Absolutely." He told her with a cocky smile.

"Liar." She told him making his smile fall. "You wouldn't have seen me for Katherine standing in the way." She walked around him to Tyler who was walking over to them. "Hey handsome." She told him as she looked him up and down taking in his grey soldier’s uniform for the float for the history class. "You know, all ladies love a man in uniform."

"Oh yeah?" He asked as he leaned down and kissed her.

"Are you sure you can't be on the founders court float with me?" She asked with a frown.

"You know I can't. Mr. Saltzman's grading all of us on it." He said with a shake of his head. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine. The guy that escorted Caroline for the pageant has agreed to stand up there with me." She sighed.

"Guys, get on your floats." Tyler’s mom told them as she walked by.

"Yes ma'am." Katie sighed then kissed Tyler one more time before she headed to the float where Caroline was standing higher than the rest of them. Elena and Stefan stood on the pillar below Caroline while Katie and her substitute escort stood one down from them.

TVDTVDTVD

When the parade was over Katie went to the founder’s hall and changed into street clothes then met up with Tyler and enjoyed the festival. Eventually when they had their fill of cotton candy they went to the grill and started playing pool.

"You know, one of these days I'm going to beat you." Katie said after she stood up from failing to sink a ball.

Tyler was going to say something back, but he saw Katie make a face and place her hand over her mouth. “Are you okay?” he asked, but she shook her head no and made a run for the bathroom.

Katie barely made it into a stall before her dinner came back up. With a groan she stood up and flushed the toilet. "What the hell was that about?" She thought to herself trying to figure out what was wrong with her. She felt fine until a waitress walked by with a sizzling plate of fajitas and the smell wafted in her face. She loved fajitas. Why would the smell make her sick? "Oh my god." The fact that mother nature was two weeks late hit her like a punch to the gut and she placed her hand over her lower stomach. "Okay, Katie, get it together. Don’t freak out, it could be nothing. Having a lot of sex can throw off a period and there is a stomach bug going around."

She was washing her hands, when Caroline came in. "Hey, Tyler sent me in to check on you."

"I'm fine." Katie said, putting on a fake, but believable smile as she turned off the water and grabbed some paper towels. "Pretty sure I just ate too much cotton candy." She lied and tossed the paper towel into the trash as they walked out of the bathroom. Caroline went back to Matt and Katie met Tyler at the pool tables.

"Hey are you okay?" Tyler asked as he slid his hand around her waist.

"Yeah, I just got a little sick to my stomach." She said as she waved him off. "I'm fine now." She gave him a smile and grabbed her pool stick.

Tyler got quiet when he saw his dad walking over. "What are you doing here? I told you to go home." His father asked.

"I decided not to." Tyler told him with a defiant tone.

"If I tell you to do something you do it!" The mayor snapped while grabbing Tyler's arm, hard.

"Get off me." Tyler jerked his arm from his father.

"Mayor, is everything okay?" Caroline asked as she rushed over with Matt not far behind.

The mayor looked at Caroline and Matt then looked at his son. While he wasn't looking at her, Caroline mouthed, "Are you okay?" to Katie who nodded.

"Please, Tyler, I need you to go home. Now. Take you're friends with you." He told Tyler softer and calmer now that he knew he had an audience.

"Why, what's the problem?" Katie asked confused.

"I can't explain." He said as he looked around at the four of them. "But all of you need to get home. Please."

"Yeah, okay." Tyler told him skeptically.

"Here, take my car." Tyler's dad placed his keys in Tyler's hand. "It’s out back." Tyler nodded and placed his hand on Katie's back. "Caroline, Matt, go with them." Caroline and Matt nodded and grabbed their things.

They were on their way to Tyler's house with Tyler driving, Caroline in the front passenger seat because she hated sitting in the back of a car and Matt and Katie in the back when Tyler asked, "What the hell is that?"

"What the hell is what?" Katie asked scooting to the middle to see out the front glass, thinking Tyler saw something in the road.

"That noise." Tyler answered then grabbed his head with both hands, groaning in unbearable pain.

"Caroline the wheel!" Matt yelled from beside Katie.

Caroline grabbed the wheel and tried to get control of the increasingly speeding car, but she failed and the car crashed into a brick wall. Katie saw the fleeting image of Caroline's screaming face as she flew past her from the back seat and crashed into the front glass. That was the last image she saw before her world turned black, like someone flipped a light switch.

TVDTVDTVD

Tyler and Matt were sitting in the waiting room when Sheriff Forbes came out of the double doors that Katie and Caroline had disappeared through on stretchers.

"What's happening? Is Caroline alright?" Matt asked as he stood up and Tyler followed.

"Um, there was some internal bleeding. They're taking her into surgery." She answered, shaken up.

"What else did they say? Is she going to be okay?" Matt asked.

"They're going to do everything they can." She answered knowing it was hospital slang for it doesn't look too good.

"What about Katie?" Tyler asked and Sheriff Forbes eyes started to get misty. "Please don't tell me she's..." Tyler asked as his eyes watered, but he didn't cry.

"She's...alive. She's suffered a traumatic brain injury and her..." she paused to get her voice under control. "Her neck is broken. If she wakes up there’s a chance she’ll be paralyzed."

"Oh god..." Tyler sank down into the chair not knowing what else to do.

"Tyler, have you talked to your mom?" Sheriff Forbs asked.

"I left her a message telling her I was here." He answered in shock.

"You need to call her." She told him, hating that he was going to possibly lose his dad and his girlfriend on the same night.

"What is it?" Tyler asked.

"It’s your dad." Sheriff Forbs answered sounding like she was going to break down.

TVDTVDTVD

"Bonnie." Elena called as she found her friend pacing the hospital hallway. "How are they?"

"Caroline's out of surgery, but she’s weak. They don’t know if she's going to make it." Bonnie answered. "Katie's unconscious. They won’t know anything for sure until she wakes up, but they don't think she will."

Damon, who was watching them, felt an invisible dagger stab into his chest.

"What?" Elena asked as she placed her hand on her stomach and Bonnie pulled her in for a hug. "Isn't there something you could do, like, a...a spell or something?" Elena asked as they let go of each other.

"She doesn't know how." Damon spoke up as he walked over to them. "Do you?"

"No." Bonnie answered. "I don’t."

"No you don’t." Damon said walking closer. "Because it took Emily years to learn a spell like that."

"Yeah well, I can take down a vampire. That spell was easy to learn." Bonnie bit back.

Damon turned to Elena. "I can give them some blood."

"No, no way." Elena argued.

"Just enough to heal them. They will be safe in the hospital, it will be out of her system in a day... they'll be better, Elena." Damon argued back.

"It's too risky. I can't agree to that." Elena stood her ground.

"I was only asking on the behalf of Caroline. You can't stop me from giving Katie my blood." Damon told her with one of his pissed off smirks.

"Do it." Bonnie spoke up making the two of them look at her like she was crazy given her stance on vampires. "This is Caroline and Katie. Okay? We can't let them die." She looked at Damon. "Do it."

"If I do this for them, you and me call a truce?" Damon asked.

"No, but you'll do it anyway...for Katie." Bonnie told him with a knowing glare.

TVDTVDTVD

Damon walked into Katie's ICU room, his eyes landed on her bruised and badly cut up face and body lying motionless in the bed. A ventilator tube was sticking out of her mouth, a machine making her chest raise and fall. "Katie Cat..." he sighed, resting his hand on her forehead brushing her red waves out of her face.

He was biting his wrist when he heard it, a small rapidly beating heart that made him freeze in place. "Oh...no..." he groaned and grabbed the rails of the bed leaning over it, placing his forehead on her stomach, the small heartbeat growing louder. “How could you be so stupid?”

With a pain twisted face he bit his wrist and held it over her face, dripping his blood into her mouth.

TVDTVDTVD

Katie woke up in the middle of the night gagging on the tube that was down her throat. Panicking, her heart rate spiked causing the monitor to start beeping, altering the nurse. Tears ran down her cheeks as they put a shot of something in her arm and her world turned black again.

The next time she woke up, she found the tube gone. The only thing attached to her now was the I.V. in her arm. Feeling like she had swallowed shards of glass, she pressed her fingertips to her neck. A passing nurse saw her moving and stopped in her tracks. "Ma'am." She called with raspy words. The nurse walked in. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"Um, let me go get your doctor." the nurse told her with an odd look.

Before Katie knew it a doctor and two nurses came in and started throwing around the words miracle, broken neck and severe brain trauma. "Can someone please tell me what is going on?" She asked getting mad at being talked at and about as if she wasn't there.

The doctor told the nurses to leave then sat down on the stool in the room and rolled over to sit near her head. "We can't figure out how you have healed." He started.

"Healed from what?" She asked as he handed her a Styrofoam cup if ice chips.

"What's the last thing you remember?" He asked for a second time.

"I told you. I was in a car with my friends and the driver thought he saw something in the road so I scooted to the middle of the back seat to see what he was talking about." She explained, agitated with him.

"That car crashed and you went through the windshield." He explained and Katie's jaw slacked. "Just 12 hours ago. You suffered a broken neck and a very traumatic brain injury. You shouldn't even be able to move your head right now."

"You're telling me I'm supposed to be...what, paralyzed?" Katie asked, confused.

"Yes, but you're not and we don’t know why or how." He told her with an astonished head shake.

Katie's eyes went wide with realization. The only explanation to her recovery was that Damon or Stefan had given her blood. "What about my friends?"

"The boys in the car with you were fine, but your friend Caroline is experiencing the same miraculous recovery as you." He told her with a confused shake of his head. "For right now were running blood tests."

"So when can I get up and walk around?" She asked already getting tired of being in the bed.

"Just take it easy for now. Okay?" he asked as he patted her arm.

"Okay, where are my personal belongings?" She asked looking around for her things as she realized her necklace was no longer on her neck.

"I'll get a nurse to bring them to you." He told her as he stood up. "Do you have any other questions before I leave?"

"Yes." She told him with a dry mouth and a weight on her chest. "I think I'm pregnant."

"Okay. We'll do a blood test to check." He told her with a nod then left.

A few minutes later a nurse walked in with a white plastic bag that contained her phone, purse and jewelry. She explained that the clothes she had been wearing were disposed of. She was putting her necklace back on when Bonnie walked in with a smile. "Hey." She said as she walked in and gave Katie a hug. "How are you?" She asked as she let her go.

"Apparently my recovery is miraculous." Katie told her with an eye roll and Bonnie gave her a knowing smile. "So who did it?" Katie asked quietly.

"Damon." Bonnie answered as tears pooled in her eyes.

"Aw come on. Don't get mushy on me Bonnie Bennett." Katie told her with a playful warning tone.

"I'm sorry..." Bonnie said as she wiped a tear. "It's just...we almost lost you."

"Well you didn't. I'm fine. Sore, but fine." She said as she put a finger on each side of Bonnie's lips and pushed up the corners. Bonnie smacked her hand away but smiled.

"There's something you need to know." Bonnie said, her smile falling.

"What?" Katie drawled.

"Tyler's dad died." She told her solemnly.

"How?" Katie asked.

Bonnie told her about the Gilbert device that the mayor and John used to incapacitate the vampires in Mystic Falls. She also told her about how she lied about removing the spell from the device and without meaning too caused the death of the mayor and the near death of two of her best friends along with Damon and Stefan. "Are you mad?" Bonnie asked, ashamed of herself.

"No, Bonnie, I'm not mad." Katie told her with a shake of her head. "I know how you feel about vampires, I get it."

"I'm so sorry."

"Bon...it’s fine...stop apologizing." Katie told her with a look that said she was going to punch her if didn't stop.

"Okay, okay." Bonnie told her in surrender. "I'm going to go check on Caroline." She told her and gave her another hug. "Call me if you need anything."

A few hours later her doctor knocked on the door then let himself inside. "Well, Miss Finnegan, all of you're blood work came back perfectly normal." He told her as he stopped to stand beside her bed.

"And the pregnancy test?" She asked reluctantly not really wanting to know the answer.

"You are pregnant." His words took her breath away. "We're going to have an ultrasound done to figure out how far along you are and make sure everything is okay. Do you have any questions or concerns?"

Katie could only manage to shake her head no. As soon as the doctor closed the door behind him she broke. Tears flooded her cheeks. She felt like a complete and total idiot. How could she, responsible and on top of her future Katie, screw up so tremendously?

She was staring off into space, quiet tears slipping down her cheeks, when a nurse walked in, pulling an ultrasound machine on wheels behind her. "Hey, I'm here to..." she stopped seeing the tears on Katie's face. "Are you okay?"

"No, but I will be eventually." Katie answered then pulled her hospital gown up, exposing her lower stomach while her waist down was covered by the tan hospital blanket. "Let's just get this over with."

The ultrasound tech. checked her wrist band and asked for her birth date then started the ultrasound. It took a few minutes, but eventually Katie saw a little black circle with a little flickering grey circle floating around in it. "It looks like you're at about three weeks.” Katie heard the nurse, but all she could do was stare at the little flicker on the small screen. After watching her take some measurements then wipe the clear gel off of her stomach the tech. turned to her and handed her a print out of the ultrasound. “Is there anything I can get you?” she asked.

“Can you let someone know that I won’t be accepting visitors?” she asked and the tech nodded.

TVDTVDTVD

That night, Katie was woken up when someone jerked the pillow out from under her head. Her eyes landed on Elena with her pillow in her hands and an odd smile on her face. "Elena what the hell?"

"Nope, try again." She told her with a tone she'd never heard from her friend before.

When she noticed that Elena’s vervain necklace was missing puzzle pieces in her brain snapped into place. "Katherine?"

"In the flesh." She told her with a sway of her body. "I have a message for Damon."

"Then tell him yourself." She told her with a glare.

With a whoosh Katherine tossed the pillow aside and grabbed Katie's head in her hands. Katie tried to get her hands off of her but she was no match for Katherine. "Tell him I said, you're welcome." With a twitch of her hands Katie's neck snapped, killing her instantly.

19 notes · View notes

margoshansons · 4 years

Text

Desperate Measures: 17/?

MASTERLIST

Summary: Y/N and Bellamy come across a survivor....and reunite with a familiar face.

Warnings: canon-typical violence, swearing, guns, gore

Notes: I am officially off of hiatus!! We will be back to our regularly scheduled programming soon enough, but I really wanted to post this today so enjoy! As always, I’m down to talk about any of it! Based on 2x04 “Many Happy Returns”

***

“Are we gonna talk about it?” Bellamy asked, dropping in next to her, his tone disapproving.

“Talk about what?” Y/N feigned innocence, really not wanting to discuss anything about what happened in the bunker. Bellamy pulled her aside, “You were ready to die for me.” He stated, hand growing tighter around her bicep, intense gaze never leaving her face.

She swallowed nervously, pushing down the butterflies fluttering as she ripped her arm out of his grasp, “Yes, I was.” She confirmed, moving forward so they didn’t fall behind. Bellamy chased after her, not wanting to end the conversation.

“I need to know why.” He pleaded, eyebrows raised, waiting for her answer.

She sighed annoyingly before dropping the bomb, “You’re more important than me.” She stated as if they were discussing the weather instead of their self-worth. “You’re a better leader, a better tracker, and you keep the rest of us grounded.” She began to explain, “You’re older, and have more experience, it’s simple logic.”

This time his grip refused to let up, grasping her wrist and turning her toward him so she could see the desperation hidden in his gaze. “That’s not true.” His voice cracked, throat bobbing up and down as he scanned her face, “The grounders respect you, you’re the best engineer we have--”

“Had” Y/N corrected, her mind wandering toward Sinclair, “The Ark’s down now. There’s plenty more engineers.”

“And you’re a damn good leader.” Bellamy continued to press, refusing to let her believe that her life was worthless. “I may keep the rest of the hundred grounded, but you keep me grounded.” He confessed, breath hitching as they moved closer. “I need you alive.”

Y/N threw her gaze up, sighing at the unfairness of her own words thrown back in her face. “That’s not fair,” She joked, playing with Bellamy’s fingers as they stood on the edge of a clearing, hoping Finn knew what he was doing.

“Are we finally taking a break?”

The couple inhaled sharply as Murphy’s voice interrupted their moment. Just as the two of them were about to answer, Finn cut them off. “No breaks.” The Spacewalker said, eyes still trained on the map, “We have to keep moving.”

Y/N moved forward, “Look,” She pleaded with her former friend, “I know you want to find them, I do too. But we need a minute or we won’t be in good enough shape to rescue our friends.”

Finn finally took his eyes off the makeshift atlas to meet her own, a snarl curled on his face, “No we don’t.” His gaze turned to Bellamy’s, “You heard the grounder, ‘they’ll outlive their usefulness’ we need to keep moving.”

Bellamy stepped in front of the anxious kid, “Y/N’s right,” He told Finn, hand pressed against the other kid’s chest, “Besides, you had a gun to his head, who knows if he was telling the truth.”

She stood there watching the two go at it, trying to find a peaceful way to resolve the tension when she heard it. A slight buzzing in her ear.

“Guys be quiet,” Y/N ordered, training her ear toward the buzzing, trying to discover the direction it was coming in, “Do you hear that?” “Hear what?” Bellamy asked, brows furrowing.

“I think your girlfriend’s gone crazy” Murphy sneered, a glare from Y/N thrown his way.

She followed the buzzing until they broke through the thicket of trees, the road beginning again as they found themselves near the edge of a cliff. But the fear creeping up inside her wasn’t because of the height.

Thousands of Arkers lay before her, the flies picking off what nutrients they could from their decomposing bodies, creating the buzzing that had drawn her here. Their crimson blood splattered against the tan ground, creating a grotesque painting that each delinquent viewed in horror as they moved through the clump of dead bodies.

When they reached the edge of the cliff she held up her hand, telling the rest of them not to go any further.

“Now we know why we never heard from Factory Station.” Bellamy stated numbly, a hint of sadness developing in his voice as the group stared at the debris in front of them.

“Rough landing” Murphy muttered and Y/N glared at the insensitive delinquent, her hand brushing against Bellamy’s arm.

Finn joined them on the edge, “There’s nothing we can do for these people.” The emotionless tone from earlier had returned and despite every bone in her body screaming otherwise, Y/N found herself agreeing with the now murderer.

Their footsteps were cut off by a scream coming from the bottom of the cliff, Bellamy stopping the group again, “Did you hear that?” Something akin to hope returned in his eyes as they peered over the edge, catching sight of a lone figure hanging onto a tree branch jutting out of the cliff, her feet swinging wildly.

There was a survivor.

“Please!” The voice called, female, “Help me!” Sterling joined the leaders at the edge of the cliff, “Mel?” He asked, disbelief written across his face.

“Sterling! Help me please!” Mel called, her voice desperate.

Finn stopped Sterling from grabbing his pack, turning toward Bellamy. “We can’t stop.”

Sterling pushed past Finn and looked back down at Mel.

“This isn’t a grounder Finn,” Y/N pointed out, her voice growing hard, “We have a rope. We can save her.”

“We can save our friends!” Finn countered, the anger coming back to play. “The longer we wait, the less we can save.”

Y/N wanted to scream in frustration, “We don’t know if our friends are still alive!” She finally brought up, knowing it was on everyone’s minds. Finn went silent. “What we do know is that there is someone here who needs our help.”

Finn looked about ready to snap, his lips thinning at her argument. The sound of rocks clattering caused the three of them to swivel around, catching Sterling’s blonde hair disappearing behind the cliff edge.

“Sterling what are you doing?” Bellamy asked, running forward, getting there much too late as Murphy joined the trio at the edge.

“Looks like we’re taking that break after all.”

Bellamy and Y/N shot another glare at Murphy and she watched his eyes widen at the synchronicity of the two leaders before they turned their gaze back to Sterling’s heroics, holding their breaths as he began to creep closer to the ledge that Mel was holding onto.

“I’m almost there!” He shouted up, “Once I have her pull us up!” A sigh came from Murphy and the trio as they released their breaths in relief.

“Well I’d say he’s heard one to many of your motivational speeches,” Murphy joked, relieving some of the tension.

“Shut up Murphy,” Bellamy responded, his eyes never leaving Sterling’s frame.

Y/N’s gaze moved from Sterling to the quivering rope beside her, watching anxiously as it began to shake more until she caught the rock the rope was tied to. The knot flew apart and her eyes grew wide. She jumped on the rope, trying fruitlessly to wrap the edge around her hand, only to watch in horror as it slipped from underneath her, sliding off the cliff and sending Sterling to his death.

His scream rang in her ears, only silenced by a smack as he fell limply against the ground.

Her breathing was ragged, muffled sounds unable to pierce through the cotton like substance in her ears as she replayed Sterling’s screams over and over in her mind, replaying it like the music Marcus used to play.

Suddenly, another scream entered her ears, Mel’s screams.

“We need to figure something else out.” Maria uttered, shaking herself out of her stupor. She owed it to Sterling. She owed it to Mel.

“We’re out of rope.” Finn spoke matter of factly and she knew what he was trying to do.

“So we make a new one” Y/N pushed, sending a small look toward Monroe, the other girl tensing up.

Finn moved closer, invading her space, “We don’t have time. We can come back to her after we save our friends.”

Bellamy exploded. “We don’t know if we could save our friends!” He moved closer to Finn the two men continuing their argument from earlier, “We’ve all thought it. But, Y/N was right, we can save this one girl.”

Finn clenched his jaw, sending a dirty look the engineer’s way before moving closer to Bellamy, “Just because the person you love is safe--”

Bellamy tilted his head, mouth tightening in anger, “I would be very careful with what you say next.”

Monroe stepped in beside the two leaders, “Sterling died to save her, and I’m not leaving until we do.” She spoke, determination hiding whatever grief she was feeling. “How do we do it?”

“We make rope from the wreckage,” Y/N pulled her gaze away from the two silent men, sliding into leader mode, “Seatbelts, wires, anything you can find.”

Murphy and Monroe nodded, the three of them going off to craft a new rope that was going to save Mel’s life. It had to.

***

“I’ll be fine.” Bellamy assured her, pulling tightly on the makeshift rope to make sure it was secure. “You made it.”

Y/N chuckled slightly to break through the unnerving feeling that something was going to go wrong. “You better make it back alive.” She told him, squeezing his hand as she joined the assembly line to lower him down, Murphy and her holding the front of the rope, watching anxiously as Bellamy lowered himself down.

The seatbelts cut through the skin of her palms, the knots in her stomach weighing her down. She hoped it actually added physical weight as well. She didn’t like this one bit, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that something awful was going to happen.

As soon as Mel latched onto Bellamy her prophecy came true.

A buckling sensation sent her lurching forward, the momentum threatening to send her flying off the cliff interrupted by a pair of hands wrapping themselves around her waist, pulling her backward as their feet slid against the rocky cliffside.

“Don’t worry Sparky” Murphy’s strained voice entered her ears, moving his hands from her waist to the rope, “You’ll get your chance to kill me.”

The two of them pulled, Monroe and Finn joining the pair, the four of them trying as hard as possible to keep Bellamy and Mel from falling.

“What the hell happened up there?” Bellamy’s voice rang up from cliffside, and Y/N forced herself to look down, the two Factory station residents swinging helplessly as he tried to find a placement for his foot.

Something buzzed past Y/N’s head and she turned just in time to see an arrow land inches from her.

“Grounders!” She heard Finn yell, “Take cover!” Monroe reached over to grasp her gun, leaning on one knee to protect the trio trying to lift up Bellamy and Mel to safety.

“Everybody pull!” Y/N shouted, having enough faith in Monroe to focus on the task at hand. The seatbelts burned against her palms, and the sweat dripping down her back refused to let up, even as the sun disappeared behind the clouds.

A scream pulled Y/N away from Bellamy as she watched Monroe collapse to the ground, gripping an arrow that had embedded itself deep in her thigh. She released her grip on the rope, grasping the gun in earnest.

“Get back on the rope,” She ordered Monroe, “Now!”

Y/N stood her ground, raising the scope to her eye, recalling Marcus’ lessons.

She pushed another magazine in, locking her eye on the trees above her, bullets striking true as grounders began to fall forward, the arrows slowly dissipating.

Except they weren’t.

Instead it felt as if she was battling an endless hydra. Whenever one fell, two more seemed to be there to greet her in their place. They only had so much ammo, and she knew they were running out soon.

It was only the sound of a foghorn that saved her.

She turned toward the thicket, searching for the familiar yellow orange clouds that could kill them at any second. Instead she found herself locking eyes with a familiar pair of green ones, a wide smile on their savior’s face.

“Octavia?” She breathed.

The two girls collapsed into each other, unable to believe that they were here together. That they had finally found each other.

Their reunion was nothing compared to the relieved one between her and her brother. The siblings refused to pull apart, almost as if they were afraid the other would disappear if they did.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” Murphy asked, the atmosphere growing sour as soon as he made any mention of Lincoln.

Octavia froze, and Y/N caught her gaze as she helped tie up Mel’s arm. “He’s gone,” the younger sister replied curtly, tying off Monroe’s leg as she held the arrow up to her vision.

Bellamy moved toward her, a regretful look on his face, “I’m sorry O,” He uttered, unsure about how to comfort his sister.

Pain shot up Y/N’s side as she stood back up, her knee buckling underneath her as Bellamy moved to catch her, setting her down on the same boulder Mel was on moments before.

“I’m fine.” She lied through her teeth, clutching onto her hip.

Bellamy shook his head, a smile reaching his eyes as she continued to deny her own injuries. “God, it’s a good thing we’re both stubborn as hell.” He muttered, untying the fresh bandages to glance at the wound.

The two of them stared in horror at the sight of blood staining the gauze, and a few stitches tugging at the skin, fraying as one popped open.

She almost thought she saw regret cross Murphy’s face.

“We need to get you back to camp.” Bellamy announced, “And don’t even think about trying to argue with me.”

This time it was her turn to smirk, “I wasn’t...dad” She threw in his face, biting her lip to stop her smile from growing any wider. “But you’re going with Finn and Murphy,” She whispered, her smile replaced by something more serious.

“No way,” Bellamy shook his head, not wanting to leave her, “I’m not leaving you alone.”

“You said it yourself,” Y/N inhaled sharply, “Finn’s a loose cannon, so is Murphy, you need to keep an eye on them.”

Bellamy shook his head, refusing to agree with her, “I just got you back, and I promised myself I’d never let you out of my sight again. Especially after you got injured. I’d never forgive myself.”

Silence stood between the two leaders as they examined each other’s faces, gazes locking onto the bottom half of the other’s face. The gap threatening to close.

Her chest constricted as the words ran themselves over and over in her head.

I need you alive.

She nodded her head slightly, turning her gaze toward Murphy before chucking her rifle at him. “Shoot me again, and I’ll kill you” She breathed heavily, a playful look in her eyes as she extended the olive branch between them. Murphy caught the gun, a smirk playing on his lips as he gave her a mock salute, following Finn into the bushes.

“Let’s go home.” She smiled, tilting her head up to meet Octavia and Bellamy’s gaze, the two siblings nodded.

She hoped she did the right thing.

***

DM Taglist (closed): @chloe-skywalker @im-a-writer-right @clarkewithameme @shatteredlovesick @your-typical-giggle @rhyxn @amongthewildthingss @furiouspockettoad @niammain @cxddlyash @lena-davina @kaylinfayezink @gingerxarmy @super-marvel-dale @travelnottogoanywherebuttogo @nerdbookish @valeskasecco @strangerliaa @simsvetements @molethemollie @thebookisbtr @im-a-stranger-thing @jordangdelacruz @oopsiedoopsie23 @multifandombookstore @okj232 @asian-male-enthusiast @minigranger @jooheonbee @libraryoffandomsuniverse @pancakefancake @weird-pale-blonde-person

#the 100 fanfic #the100fanfiction #bellamy blake imagines #bellamy blake fanfic #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake imagine #bellamy blake #reader x bellamy blake #bellamy blake x kane!reader #bellamy blake x franco!reader #fic: desperate measures #series: desperate measures #otp: you have me #my fics

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hphmmatthewluther · 3 years

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HPHM April Prompts 2021: Day 7: When Your Reflection Plots Against You (Part 3)

What is this, a crossover episode?

Okay, so funny story! The end to the story I’ve been doing recently and today’s prompt are about the same thing, so I sort of have to have them both be the thing for today because yeah! Part 1/3 Part 2/3

Anyway, onto...

Prompt 7: MC’s First Kiss

When Matthew finally came to, he had a pounding headache. He pushed himself up with the guitar case, getting back onto his face, before noticing the mirror. He wasn’t in it. Of course, Matthew thought, I’m the reflection now. He looked behind him, hoping to see where that light had come from. There was nothing. Apart from him, the bathroom was empty. Suddenly, he heard a door creak. On the other side of the mirror, in the real world, Charlie Weasley had walked in. Matthew moved towards the mirror.

“Charlie!” he tried, but to no avail, “Charlie!”

But there was nothing. It was like he was a ghost. Actually, I’m less than a ghost now. He sighed, moving back towards the guitar case. With nothing else to do, he picked up the instrument and slung it onto his back, before leaving the boys’ toilets. It occurred to him that he needed to find Edwin before he did anything too embarrassing, or before he got to his friends.

It was bizarre to see the halls of Hogwarts empty, but with all the same buzz of people moving up and down. It was rather like there being a conversation happening in the other room, but you couldn’t for the life of you find that room. He tried to marshal his thoughts as to where Edwin would go with his body. The lake, obviously, he thought to himself. But something rather strange happened to this alternate Hogwarts as Matthew approached the school grounds. What should have been the quidditch lesson area and the whomping willow, and the Forbidden Forest, was instead an inky black void, with large tubes of light jutting into it from various windows. It was solid, and Matthew couldn’t pass through it. A good way away he could see the grass around the Black Lake.

“So I can’t go anywhere that isn’t reflected.” he deduced aloud. Matthew tried to relax his breathing. This was just another riddle, and he would have to solve it. And for that, he’d need to focus.

“Shut up, Barnaby!”

Matthew twisted around, noticing the images of Merula, Ismelda and Barnaby hanging in the air through a small shield-shaped window. A Prefect’s badge, Matthew thought before leaning in to take a closer look.

“What is it?” Barnaby asked quietly.

“I just...I thought I heard him...” Merula said, her violet eyes scanning the corridor.

“Who?” asked Ismelda, irritated at having to stop.

“Luther, of course!” she snapped. Matthew’s eyes widened. “He was saying something about reflections...”

“Yes, I’m over here!” Matthew yelled. He didn’t care how it had happened, he was just happy that it did.

Merula moved up and down the corridor. “Luther, where the hell are you?!”

Ismelda and Barnaby watched, both very much confused by all of this.

Matthew felt relief wash over him. “Merula, I’m-”

“I’m right here.” came his own voice. Coming into view from the side of the badge was Edwin, wearing his body.

“Oh, there you are.” she said stiffly. Matthew watched as Edwin flicked his braceletless hand at the badge, and he knew he had placed a Silencing Charm on it. Matthew could only pray Merula could sniff Edwin out.

“What’s got you so happy?” she asked with a scowl on her face.

“Oh, nothing really...” Edwin said absentmindedly. “Anyway, what did you want?”

“W-What did I want?” she asked incredulously. “You’re the one who called me over!”

“I’m pretty sure I didn’t.” he said, shrugging. Matthew felt a surge of anger at him.

“Yes you did!” said Merula, exasperated.

Edwin cocked his head, then turned to the other two Slytherins, “Did either of you hear anything?”

“No, I didn’t.” said Ismelda.

“No, nothing.” said Barnaby.

“Well, there you go.” Edwin concluded, “Maybe you’re hearing things.”

“I am not!” Merula yelled, going slightly red.

“Sure. Whatever.” he said, running a hand through Matthew’s hair, “So, you going down to the lake later?”

“W-What? No...” said Merula, confused. Barnaby, however, nodded.

“I am! It’s gonna be great fun!” he exclaimed.

“I don’t care.” Ismelda sneered.

“Mm, it’s just that everyone is going to be there. And I thought, seeing as you can’t go to Hogsmeade, you’d want to go to a party when you could.”

Matthew felt his heart break as he saw Merula’s expression. This wasn’t fair. Nobody treated his mortal enemy like this, especially not someone like Edwin.

“F-Fine, I’ll go.” Merula conceded. “C-Come on, you two.” They stepped into the inky void, Merula wearing an expression that Matthew knew all too well. Fear.

“You could have been a bit nicer, Matt.” came a voice. Matthew realised just which Prefect’s badge he was looking through. And Edwin had no idea.

“Oh...I guess I could.” he admitted, “But I got her to go to the party, and isn’t that what matters?”

“It does if she doesn’t actually want to go.” said Bill Weasley, “You of all people should know that.”

Edwin shrugged, before heading into the void too. Bill must have followed him, for the Prefect badge vanished too. He had to get to the lake quickly, and find Merula and tell her what was happening. From there, however, he was at a bit of a loss. Maybe if he got the book back and managed to reveal the ink, he could find a way to return to his body. That would explain why he didn’t want me to get the book back, he thought. But before all that, he had to actually get to the lake in the first place. He looked up at the tubes of light which splintered the void. Matthew grinned. He’d had an idea, and it wasn’t half bad. He headed up towards Ravenclaw tower at breakneck speed, avoiding the void that appeared in corridors with less mirrors. Eventually, he found his way up to the door to the Common Room. The Eagle knocker looked up at him.

“You are here, yet you are not here.” it said. “Curious. Now, I am at the start of every race, the end of every Bludger, and in the middle of Paris. What am I?”

Matthew thought for a moment, before smirking. “R.”

The eagle nodded, before the door opened.

“Hmm, that’s odd.” said Rowan,as Matthew came in. “ Wonder why the door’s opened...” Matthew sighed as he and the other Ravenclaws looked up and saw right through him.

“I’ll tell you when I get out, Rowan.” he said. There was no reaction. Matthew headed up to his dormitory, where he found his Cleansweep resting against his four-poster bed. He reached for it, hoping, and while his left hand went straight through it, his right hand gripped the wood, the silver bracelet’s carvings glowing as it happened. Matthew grinned, before looking back at the mirror. In it, he could see the Black Lake out the window. He also saw the Cleansweep floating in midair. This gave Matthew another idea. He crept back down to the Common Room, and saw the Ravenclaws’ expressions of pure shock at a floating broom.

“Hey, isn’t that Matthew’s Cleansweep?” said Andre. Matthew couldn’t help but grin as he twirled the broomstick in his hands, causing it to spin. Then, he started to back up into the boys’ dormitory. Rowan, Andre, Tulip and Talbott all followed it until they came to Matthew’s four poster bed. He used the broom to wave at the four, then tried to make a beckoning gesture. After that, he hopped on and flew out the window, leaving them flabbergasted as the pilotless broom headed towards the lake.

It was an odd sensation, flying down a thin strip of the Hogwarts grounds, going over a small fraction of the Whomping Willow, watching students blip in and out of existence. He sped down the hill until he was over the lake, when he noticed a large gathering of students reflected in the water near the shore. He saw that there was a table with food laid out before them. He slowly moved down a few yards away, landing his broom and resting it against a nearby tree. He couldn’t risk Edwin finding out he was here again. Matthew shook his head. He had hoped that third year would be a little less eventful than last year, though he should have known that this would be impossible. Rueing his bad luck, he headed towards the party, not registering four Ravenclaws show up behind him.

“I’m so glad you all made it!” he heard Penny cheer, as the party got underway. At least, it did in the waters of the Black Lake. Matthew, meanwhile, only had a few feet of ground to work with before it gave way to the void. He saw people enter and exit the darkness, until he finally saw Merula. He knew he couldn’t just talk to her, as much as he wanted to. No, he had to find another way. Then, it occurred to him that he had Edwin’s guitar on his back. He set it onto the floor and undid the zip on the leather, before pulling it open.

For an acoustic guitar, it was pretty impressive. It had several magical runes on the wood, and the strings were a brilliant blue, just like the ropes which had pulled him through the mirror. He silently thanked his father for being part of a band when he was younger and pulled out the guitar, putting the strap around his shoulder. Even from here, he could see Edwin moving everyone’s groups away from the lake, especially Merula’s. Matthew had been where she was several times before, feeling like everybody knew how to act at a party except for you. Matthew gritted his teeth, moved towards the lake, both him and the guitar invisible, and started to play.

A A A A, D D, Em Em Em Em, D D…

***

Merula looked up, hearing the sounds of a guitar. It wasn’t a song she recognised, so she assumed it was some Muggle music. She could recognise the chords though. A A A A, D D, Em Em Em Em, D D… though she couldn’t see anyone playing. She walked through the students, ducking out of the way when she saw Matthew. He was talking with Chiara and Penny, but it didn’t look like how Matthew usually talked. Normally, he was reserved, quiet, a little hunched over. Not here. No, here it reminded her of some of the irritating sods in Preston’s gang. Merula scowled, before heading towards the music. Strangely enough, it seemed to be coming from inside the Lake… but that couldn’t be…

“Psst, Merula!”

She looked down into the water. There was her reflection, but next to it stood Matthew Luther, with a rune covered guitar.

“Don’t look at me!” he hissed, “Turn around and act like you don’t see me!”

Merula obeyed, turning on the spot. Secretly, she had been hoping for an explanation for his behaviour today; he had been amicable enough at first, but over the last few hours or so he had become rather cocky and boastful.

“Merula, that isn’t me.” he said, still playing the guitar, “That arse took my body!”

Her eyes widened. “He’s a changeling?!”

“If...if that’s what they’re called, yeah.”

Merula found it in her to smirk. “Really Luther, I forget how little you know about the Wizarding World.”

“It’s not my fault our Defence against the Dark Arts teachers have been rubbish.” he remarked.

“Eh, you’re not wrong there, they have been awful.” she admitted. “So how the hell did this happen?”

“Long story short: Some guy named Edwin appeared in the mirror saying he was trapped and needed help escaping.” Matthew explained, “I agreed, though I didn’t realise just how I’d be helping him.”

Merula stared at Edwin. Yes, she saw it now. It was like a Metamorphmagus had turned into him, or someone had used Polyjuice Potion. That’s why she’d felt so uncomfortable around him. Because it wasn’t Matthew. “So, how do we get him out?”

Matthew looked a little surprised. “Oh, I thought you’d suggest leaving me here.”

She laughed, genuinely, before shaking her head. “Luther, if I left you there this Edwin would have to be my rival. And I don’t like the sound of that at all. You’re my mortal enemy, Luther, and nobody gets to doom you for eternity except me.”

Matthew grinned through the water. “Thanks, Merula. Now, do you have anything reflective on you?” She shuffled through her pockets until she pulled out a silver comb.

“By the way, since when could you play guitar?” she asked, as Matthew appeared in the comb.

“Oh, my Dad taught me. I just know a few songs, though, not much.” he confessed.

“Alright...” began Merula, nervously moving towards the throng of students, “What do we do?”

“There’s a book in my bag called The Ramifications of Our Reflections.” Matthew explained, “It has some text in invisible ink that Edwin really didn’t want me to see, to our best bet is grabbing the book and finding out what it says.”

“Ah, so we’re stealing from him!” she declared quietly.

“Well, no, it’s my book!” Matthew yelled, before adding, “Well, it’s technically Snape’s, but he took it from me, so there.”

They neared the pile of everyone’s bags, and Merula bent down to grab hers, before manoeuvring towards Matthew’s satchel. Slowly, while eyeing the changeling, Merula bent down and grabbed the book, quickly placing it in her own bag. She took a sigh of relief, and quickly walked away.

“Now what?” she whispered, before seeing Ismelda.

“This party's boring. I’m heading back to the common room.” she declared.

“Good idea.” Merula said, walking with her.

“Don’t worry, she can’t see me.” Matthew reassured her, “Now all we need to do is heat up the book and we can see the information.”

Merula nodded as they headed away from the party, but they were stopped on their way back by Edwin.

“Hey, wh-where you going?” he asked, his usual cocky demeanour in full swing.

“We’re leaving.” Merula declared, “This party is boring, and you shouldn’t have invited us.”

Edwin stared at her for a moment. “Is that so.” he said, not even trying to make it a question.

“Yeah...I’m leaving now...bye.” she said, heading off. Ismelda looked at her, then at Edwin.

“Wow, she really doesn’t like you.” she said, “What’d you do to her?”

“I would worry more about what I’m going to do.” Edwin growled.

“Merula...” Matthew began, “Get to my broom. It’s right by the lake.” When she looked at the comb, confused, Matthew just shouted “GO!” and that got her moving.

She sprinted back down the hill, where she saw the Cleansweep resting by a tree. She grabbed a hold of it and saw Edwin racing after her.

“Just wait a minute!” he yelled, as Merula kicked off the ground. Matthew quickly put the guitar onto his back as the ground fell beneath them, and soon they were soaring over the grounds once again.

“Now how’d she know the broom was there?” Rowan asked aloud. “Matthew, do you-”

“Curse them!” Edwin bellowed, heading off after her, wand in hand. Ismelda hissed.

“Oh no you don’t...” she muttered, running after him. Bill stood nearby, very much concerned.

“Something’s going on here...” he deduced, before joining the chase. Of course, Merula and Matthew had the advantage of having a broomstick, which allowed them to get to the other side of the school in very little time. They ended up on the second floor, just above the Great Hall.

“Nobody uses these toilets.” Merula explained, “Myrtle’s always kicking up a fuss.”

They headed into the girl’s bathroom, which was oddly quiet.

“That’s strange.” said Merula, “I wonder where she’s gone.” Matthew appeared in a mirror near the sink.

“That was close.” he admitted, looking on as Merula pulled Ramifications out of her satchel. “Now all we need to do is heat it up and we’ll be set. Be careful though, we don’t want to set it on fire.”

“Right.” Merula said, placing the book on the ground. Matthew moved closer, appearing in a puddle of water. “Incendio Parvus!” A small flame appeared on the tip of Merula’s wand, which she moved down towards the paper. “Hey, it’s working!” she said excitedly.

“Great! Find the part about freeing people from mirrors!” Matthew implored, placing down the guitar.

“Okay, okay...” she said, flicking through the pages.

“Um...Merula...” Matthew began, “Sorry for dragging you into this.”

“Hmph...it’s...I mean, it wasn’t you, was it? It was that changeling who was the arse.”

“I know, but I made the deal with him...” he lamented.

“Yeah, I know, but...” she paused, looking over at Matthew’s puddle. “Oh come on. He gave you what you wanted, right?”

Matthew considered this. “Yeah. I guess he did.”

Merula smirked again. “What’d you even ask for?”

Matthew suddenly looked nervous. “I...um, I just wanted advice. We’d had that argument yesterday, and so I was just...I didn’t want to make things worse every time I saw you, or anyone else.”

Merula frowned. “Th-That’s it?!”

“Yeah...that’s it.”

She looked at him through the water, before bursting into laughter. “What?” he asked, more confused than ever.

“Sorry, it’s just...” she paused to wipe her hair out of her face, “It’s weird how little you trust yourself. I mean, you make friends all the time. I’m the one who can’t make friends and can’t go to Hogsmeade.”

Matthew frowned at her. “You don’t have to talk about-”

“It’s alright.” she reassured him. “I-I just...it’s my aunt. She says I’m not doing well enough in Defence against the Dark Arts.”

“But that’s not fair, the teachers are total tw-”

“I know that.” said Merula, “But my aunt thinks that I need to revise more...and she’s my legal guardian...so...”

“Merula, I’m sorry. You know...if you wanted to, I could give you a hand with...you know, studying and stuff.”

“Is that so?” she said, flicking through the pages with her other hand. “I don’t know...we’re mortal enemies. I don’t know how I’d feel about- Ah ha!” she exclaimed suddenly, “Freeing those trapped in the Reflected Realm! Bingo!”

Matthew craned his neck to see, but to no avail. Merula seemed to notice. “Oh, right, sorry. If a wizard or witch has been trapped within the Reflected Realm, they must be freed by breaking the contract forged between them and a changeling. To do this, one must return to the mirror of entry, destroy the surface they made the deal with and recite the phrase “Contractus est inanis. Corpus meum.” From there, the changeling will return to the Reflected Realm once it touches any reflective surface.”

“Brilliant!” said Matthew, “What are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

Merula extinguished the flame. “Okay, okay! You remember the phrase, right?”

“Course. Contractus est inanis. Corpus meum.”

“Good. Where’d you make the deal?” she asked, packing the book away.

“The boy’s toilets. Sixth floor.” This caused Merula’s face to scrunch up.

“Look, it won’t be for long. Once I get to the mirror, we can leave right away and find Edwin.” he explained.

“...Fine. I’m gonna get you for this one day, Luther...”

“I hope you get the chance, Merula...I really do...”

A minute or two later, Merula had made her way to the sixth floor, and was standing right outside the boy’s toilets.

“C-Can’t I just wait outside?” she asked. Matthew nodded, before heading inside on his own, the guitar still on his back. He instantly came back out.

“I’m afraid you can’t, Merula.” he said nervously. Merula groaned, before poking her head into the room. Standing in the U-bend, in front of a large magical field, was the body of Matthew Luther, and the vile grin of Edwin.

“We meet again. I’m so glad I don’t have to hide from you anymore.” he said. Matthew sneaked into view on one of the nearby mirrors, glaring at the sphere.

“Listen to me, Edwin. I am the Most Powerful Witch at Hogwarts,” Merula announced, “,and unless you vacate my mortal enemy’s body this instant, I will rain hell upon you!”

Edwin stared for a moment, before bursting into maniacal laughter. “Ooh, that’s a good one! I see why Matthew likes you!”

“I’m getting to that mirror, Edwin,” declared Matthew, “And you won’t stop me.”

Edwin pointed Matthew’s wand at Merula. “I somehow doubt that. I haven’t had a wand of my own in so long, I-”

“You still don't!” Matthew butted in.

“Silence!” Edwin yelled, sending Charm after Charm at the various mirrors. Merula watched as Matthew tried to mouth his words, before opting for a simple hand gesture. Merula pointed her own wand at Edwin.

“Sorry, I don’t take orders from you.” she sneered. “Flipendo!”

A burst of magic shot out of her wand at Edwin, who quickly moved out of the way, before yelling “Incendio!”, causing fire to leap towards Merula. She moved quickly out of the way, before pointing her wand back at Edwin, but he was faster. “Petrificus Totalus!” he shouted, sending a wave of paralysis at Merula, who felt herself fall to the ground. Matthew leapt towards the field of magic. He stepped through it, ending up on the other side with relative ease. Oh, the joys of the Reflected Realm, he thought to himself before reaching the mirror. Now he had to destroy it. He loosened his silver bracelet until it became a sort of fisticuff around his hand, and pulled back his arm.

“No!” roared Edwin, pointing Matthew’s own wand at him. “CRU-”

“Expelliarmus!”

Matthew’s wand flew out of Edwin’s hand over to the other side. Into the room came Rowan, Bill and Ismelda. But it wasn’t them that fired that disarming spell. It was Merula.

“It’s funny.” she said, “I never bought into that ‘wand chooses the wizard’ crap. But I think it well and truly has this time...changeling. Now, Luther!” she yelled, as the three newcomers looked around confused. Matthew took the bracelet and bashed it into the mirror. There wasn’t a scratch on the silver, but the mirror cracked into a thousand pieces.

“Contractus est inanis. Corpus meum!” he recited, as the several shards of the mirror began to glow. Blue ropes appeared between Matthew and Edwin, which snapped in two with a loud twang. Rowan pointed at the mirror.

“Matt! What are you doing in a mirror? With a guitar?” they asked, flabbergasted.

Edwin glared daggers at his double. “Matt...my guy Matt...” he snarled, wiping the hair out of his face. “If you think getting that mirror broken was difficult, you’ll have one hell of a time putting me back-”

“Glacius Maledictus!” Matthew yelled, having picked up his wand. His bracelet glowing, ice began to coat the floor of the toilets. Perfect Ice.

Edwin looked down at his blue reflection. Matthew looked back up at him.

“...It’s a fair cop.” Edwin admitted. He looked at Merula. “A very fair cop...You know what Matt, I’ve changed my mind about you. You’re no coward. You just needed a push is all. And here I am to give it to you.” he stepped forward to Merula, grinning. “It’s been fun. You’ll thank me later.” Edwin leaned forward. There was a great flash of light, and Matthew was pulled up from the ice and into the motion. When he opened his eyes, his lips were on Merula’s. Rowan audibly gasped. Ismelda actually stopped picking her nails. Bill took a deep breath, knowing what was about to come next.

“Uuurgh!” They both said, disconnecting instantly, Matthew bringing a hand from behind Merula and her placing her feet firmly back on the ground. They both, however, couldn’t hide their very red faces.

“Oh, that bastard!” Matthew groaned, wiping his mouth.

“Yuck, yuck, yuck!” said Merula, spitting onto the ground. Suddenly, they heard his laugh. Rowan pointed downwards. Inside the glass was a boy in denim and a flannel shirt, scowling.

“I was just the first of the monsters of the mirrors.” he announced, “There’ll be more, trust me! And when they get out, they’ll-” “Incendio.”

There was a horrifying screech as the ice suddenly melted, until the bathroom floor was covered in water. Then there was silence. Ismelda smiled, before placing her wand back into her pocket. “That’s for messing with my friends.” she droned, before turning to Matthew. She looked at him for a moment, before slapping him across the face. “And that’s for kissing Merula.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” Matthew said, rubbing his cheek, which was red for a completely different reason to Ismelda. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw two figures appear in the mirror for a moment, nod, then vanish.

“Ok, now can someone please explain what’s going on?” Bill asked.

“I can try.” said Matthew, stretching his jaw. Merula was still a bright pink, and was still wiping her mouth. “Was I really that bad?” he snickered.

“It was...just a surprise, Luther.” Merula said stiffly. “Don’t worry. I won’t slap you. Just don’t get any ideas.”

Rowan looked at them all, aghast. “Sorry, but are we overlooking the fact that Ismelda just killed a man?!”

***

“So, in summary...” said Dumbledore, sitting at his desk, “It’s been quite an eventful day or two for you, hasn’t it?”

Matthew nodded rapidly. They were all now in the Headmaster’s Office, along with Professors Snape, McGonagall and Flitwick.

“I am just glad that you are okay, Matthew.” squeaked the smallest wizard. “Changelings are very dangerous forces of nature.”

“I would like to remind Mr Luther,” sneered Snape, “That the next time he sees something unusual in the mirror, he is to come straight to a Head of House...and that goes for all of you, too.”

The students all nodded. “Well, if that’s everything,” said McGonagall, “I do believe you will all need sleep after a long day like this.”

“Minerva is correct.” said Dumbledore, “Though, if you have any questions or concerns...”

“Actually...” said Merula, “There’s one thing I still don’t understand. Why was I the only person who could see Matthew in the Reflected Realm?”

Dumbledore smiled. “Now that is a very interesting stroke of luck. You see, a very powerful Artifact of Protection can sometimes lend its protection to others around them. It is likely that Matthew’s bracelet,” he explained, leaning towards the boy, “Has seen your connection as the closest, and has decided to protect both of you. And perhaps, more. I imagine Mr Khanna was unable to find Edwin while he was in Matthew’s body for a reason.”

“So...what does that mean?” asked Merula

“It means you, Matthew, are Merula’s Artifactidal Guardian.” he declared. Matthew looked down at his bracelet. Was that why he gave it to him?

“Hang on...how much of a guardian?”

Dumbledore’s eye twinkled knowingly. “Enough of one, Matthew.” he said.

Merula looked at him, turning a little pink still. “What does- What do you-” But Matthew understood. He pulled out the sheet that the riddle was written on, as well as his pen, and began to scribble on the back of the parchment. Then, he gave it to Merula. She read it. Her jaw dropped.

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

I Matthew Luther, Artifactidal Guardian of Merula Snyde, hereby give her permission to visit Hogsmeade.

Merula passed the letter to Dumbledore in silence, who read it and nodded. “Very well. Now, off to bed, chop chop.”

As they all walked down the stairs, Matthew felt Merula grab his shoulder.

“Thi-” she stammered, “Th-Thank you, Matthew. I don’t… You know, I-”

“Don’t worry about it, please.” Matthew said, smiling. “This changes nothing. You and I can still be mortal enemies.”

Merula grinned. “Gotcha.” she said, smiling. “Also...um...that was my first kiss.”

Matthew nodded. “Oh. Um...mine too.” He could see something flicker over her expression after that.

“Oh...well, I’m going to say it was with you, because if I don’t it would have been with Edwin, which is even worse.”

“Yeah, I understand.” Matthew said, a smile forcing its way onto his red face. “Well...there’s another Hogsmeade trip tomorrow...see you then...”

“Y-Yeah...see you then.” Merula said, before marching off. It took only a few days for them to get back to their usual bickering selves, but people noticed that for some reason they never argued and never insulted each other when they were in Hogsmeade. The few who knew why kept that secret close to their chests.

#aprilprompts2021 #hphm #hogwarts mystery #hphm fanfic #merula x mc #jacob's sibling #merula x jacob's sibling #ismelda murk #barnaby lee #rowan khanna #bill weasley #hphm mc #hphm oc

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crashdevlin · 4 years

Text

Succubus 1- Caught

Succubus Masterlist

Author’s Note: Posted to Ao3 (this is an edited and improved version) and was once posted here when I was a much smaller blog…and I got some shit for the content. So heed the warnings!

Summary: When Y/n goes looking for something in Stark Tower, she finds more than she bargained for.

Pairing(s): Tony Stark x Reader, Clint Barton x Reader

Word count: 4556

Story Warnings: 18+! HERE BE SEX!! DON’T READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!!, unprotected sex, cheating, sex-pollen-esque powers, mutant reader, noncon, forced cheating, oral (fem rec), mentions of noncon of an underage girl by men in power (teachers, policemen, doctors, priests)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You walk past the line and straight up to the bouncer, who takes one look at your tiny tight-fitting dress and stripper-high platform heels and lets you in without a word. You don't even have to use your mutant ability on him. Oh, this night is going to be cake. You snake your way through the gyrating bodies on the dance floor, careful to not use your power on any of the people in the crowd. The passion and lust rolling off of them as they bump and grind against each other is delicious but you don't have time to stop for a snack. You're on a mission and you're here for a meal.

You walk up to the VIP room and smile at the tall, broad-chested man standing at the doorway. He stops you, putting a hand on your bare shoulder. Mistake. "Sorry, ma'am. Mr. Stark requested...privacy." He trails off a bit at the end as your power starts its work on him and his eyes dilate more than the dark of the club requires.

"Oh, I know he's a busy man, but...I'm such a huge fan. The man saved the whole city. He's my hero." You place your hand over his and lean over next to his ear as the bodyguard's breathing grows heavy. "I just really want to show my appreciation."

His fingers fumble with the velvet rope as he lets you into the VIP room, where Tony Stark sits, alone. "Hey, Hap, who's this?" he asks, setting his glass of whiskey on the glass table in front of him.

"I, uh, didn't catch her name." You smile at the man and he flushes deep red before leaving to man the door again.

You sit down next to the billionaire and stare up at him with admiration. "Mr. Stark. I'm a huge fan. My name's Aphrodite." You offer your hand and he takes it. His eyes dilate immediately and he takes a deep breath. His desire is immediate, strong and delicious. You are gonna eat well tonight.

The hand that shook yours moves to your bare knee. He's doing your work for you. "'Aphrodite, huh?"

His desire grows as the skin contact stretches out, the seconds ticking by. "Yeah, my parents were huge Greek mythology nerds," you lie. It's a code name: self-imposed but ever so fitting.

His hand slips up to your thigh. "Well, it suits you; 'cause you are the sexiest thing I've ever seen, and I work with a woman who uses sex as a weapon."

You take a steadying breath. Damn, his passion is potent. "Thank you, Mr. Stark."

"Call me 'Tony'. Seriously, though, this dress leaves nothing to the imagination and I can't stop imagining it in a puddle on my floor." His hand reaches the hem of the dress and his fingers push under the tight silver material, pushing it up to your hip as his hand finds what it is searching for.

You moan and swallow thickly as his fingers trace your lips through your lace thong panties. "I heard you were a forward man, Tony, but I never imagined..." You moan as he moves the lace barrier aside and sinks his middle finger into you, down to the knuckle. It's over. Nothing can stop it, now. He begins fucking you with his expert fingers, using the heel of his palm to rub against your clit. It's always nice when they know what they're doing and goddamn if Tony Stark isn't a damn pro. You reach over and rub his erection through his designer jeans, your fingers tracing his hardness through the thick denim. Oh, this is going to be a treat. No wonder the man's so damn cocky.

"You ever been fucked by a billionaire?" he whispers in your ear, before leaning down to lick at your neck.

"I get the feeling I'm about to," you whisper through your moans as he adds a second finger and picks up the speed.

"Yeah, we're gonna mark that off your bucket list," he grunts, going to undo his pants. You put your hand on his to stop him.

"Not here. I wanna see the top of the city. Take me to the Tower?" you beg, breathlessly.

He growled, low in his chest. "I've always wanted to fuck someone on the balcony. Pepper has never gone for it. You game, Goddess?"

"Oh, hell yeah." You bite your lip as he pulls his hand away.

"Let's go. Hap, grab the car!" he shouts, pulling you up and giving you a minute to fix your dress before pulling you out of the VIP. The look on Happy Hogan's face, when Tony opens the car door and pushes you in before taking the wheel from the bodyguard and speeding away from him, is pure judgement. His desire has worn thin and now, he's judging Tony for acting on it. He must be friends with Ms. Potts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tony has your dress and thong bunched at your feet before you've even stepped off the elevator. You step gracefully out of the shimmery and lacey materials and he guides you backward, his mouth attached to your neck. You should've been a dancer; the way you move backwards and in high heels. You grab Tony's jacket and push it down his arms. He drops it somewhere between the elevator and the wet bar. "Are we alone?" you ask, trying to look around but finding it difficult with Tony's persistent pushing and grabbing at you.

He grunts. "Avengers hiatus. Pepper's in Malibu. Just us."

You smile. "Perfect." You break away from him and grab at the waistband of his jeans, popping the button and pulling them and his red silk boxers down as he kicks his shoes off. He pulls his shirt over his head and steps out of his pants as you bend down in front of him. You grasp him at the base of his cock, your fingers nestling nicely in his well-groomed pubes, and guide him into your mouth. His hands grasp at your hair as you begin to bob your head up and down his length, your tongue swirling around the head and flicking at the frenulum. He pulls you up by your hair and shoves his tongue in your mouth, smashing his lips into yours.

"I have to have you. Now." He pushes you toward the balcony and you stumble a little on your heels before following him out onto the biggest balcony you've ever seen. He pushes you onto a chaise and is almost immediately between your legs, sucking your clit into his mouth and licking at it harshly. His beard rubs against your sensitive lips and adds something wonderful to the feeling.

"Fuck," you moan, one hand grabbing the armrest of the chaise and the other going into his hair.

"Yes." His desire is at its peak when he responds, pulling away and climbing up your body. There's no fanfare, no hesitation, as he spreads your legs further and enters you to the hilt with one thrust. You grab onto him as he starts to pound into you. He feels amazing, he tastes amazing, his desire almost more fulfilling than his dick. He pushes your knees up into your chest, never breaking his stride as he grabs each of your breasts and shifts his weight. You scream out as his new angle hits your g-spot with each swing of his hips. "Feel like a goddess, too. So...fuckin'...fuck," he grunts out.

He cums hard, breathing heavily. You can feel his dick twitch inside of you as he spills himself onto your inner walls. His hand goes to his head and he clenches his eyes in pain and then he passes out, slumping on top of you, soft dick still inside of you. You sigh and push him off of you. He crumples unceremoniously to the ground beside the chaise as you stretch your neck and shoulders. You look down at him. You were hoping he'd get you off before he went, but that was rare. It takes a special kind of man to hold himself back against your pheromones long enough to give you an orgasm and no Homo Sapien has managed it. Oh, well, his desire had been yummy.

You stand and walk inside, getting in the elevator and redressing yourself. You hum amelodically as you tap the button for the laboratory and the elevator doors close. You step off the elevator and dance around the lab until you come to a computer. You pull the earring off of your right ear and pull the cap off of a concealed USB drive. You plug it into the computer and no more than ten seconds pass before everything goes dark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You wake up in a sitting position, your head hanging. You can tell that you are restrained to a chair. You don't open your eyes, allowing yourself to gain as much information from your other senses before you let on that you're awake.

"I don't know, Barton. She said her name was 'Aphrodite', but if that's a codename, it's not in any of the databases that I have access to, which is all of them." Tony's voice is coming from your left. 'Barton', that's gotta be Clint Barton. Hawkeye.

"She doesn't look familiar...or particularly hot. Not hot enough to fuck around on Pepper, I mean."

"She hit me with some kind of whammy. I said this." Tony's voice is annoyed. Aww, poor billionaire philanthropist is feeling guilty.

"Well, what is she? Cat burglar, super spy?"

"I don't know. She fucked me up, then went up to the lab, but JARVIS saw her and sent a legionnaire to knock her out."

You can't help the giggle that escapes you as your eyes open. You're sitting in the middle of a small room, zip-tied to a chair, in front of Tony Stark (wearing his repulsor gloves but none of his other Iron Man accouterments) and Clint Barton, wearing civvies with a bow slung over his shoulder. Clint shakes his head in confusion. "You get caught red-handed stealing information from the Avengers and you giggle?"

You smile. "I'm sorry. Is that not the proper response to being caught? It's never happened to me before."

"What are you?" Tony asks as Clint asks, "Who are you?"

You just smile up at them. They'll know in a few minutes. Tony scoffs. "That's fine. I got a sample of your blood while you were out. I'll know both of those answers once the results run."

"I've never been caught before. You think my DNA is gonna be on file somewhere? Especially if my name's not written down anywhere."

"Master Stark, her temperature has risen by 7.4 degrees Fahrenheit in the last two minutes," a disembodied voice with a proper accent says.

"That must be the infamous JARVIS. Forgot about you." You look up at the ceiling.

"What are you doing with a temp of a hundred and six?" Tony asks, tapping at his tablet.

"You'll see. In three. Two. One. Boom," you say. Tony and Clint sway suddenly, their heads swimming from your pheromone attack. Tony goes down, passing out from the overload, but Clint stays standing. He looks at you with a beautiful mix of lust and anger, because he knows but he can't get past the way you've made him feel. "How are you still standing?" you ask, staring up at him.

"Top physical conditioning," he answers, groaning.

"Oh," you breathe the word, enamored. "That's never happened before."

He growls. He pulls his bow off of his back and tries to draw it, an arrow somehow nocked on the string when you never saw his hand go near the quiver. His fingers fumble for a minute, but he eventually pulls the bow taut. "If I kill you, does it stop?" he growls again and it's sexy despite the loaded weapon in your face.

"I don't know. I've never been killed before," you answer, simply. His desire is spiking, he smells amazing, a normal man would be panting with that level of desire, but...Clint Barton takes deep, measured, breaths.

"If I fuck you, does it-"

"Yes," you answer, quickly. You aren't hungry, but...damn, he looks gourmet.

He quickly shifts his aim, letting the arrow loose toward the metal ceiling tile above your head, where it ricochets, cutting the wire restraining you. You don't have time to rub your sore wrists before he's grabbed you and pulled you out of the chair. He kisses you, but it isn't teeth and tongue like Tony's kiss. He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and nibbles on it, lightly. His hands grasp at your dress, slowly bringing it up. How is he going so slow?

"Master Barton, I have dispatched an Iron legionnaire to assist you," the AI butts in.

"Fuck!"

"Sorry, Bird-Boy. That's my cue," you whisper, pulling back and punching him. He doesn't go down, so you quickly grab the chair and bash him with the metal back. He crumbles next to Tony and you pull your dress back down as exit the room and run for the elevator.

***********

"So, you failed."

"No, sir. I don't fail. I just haven't succeeded yet. I'll get it. I just didn't count on the AI being so autonomous. I'll get it," you repeat, standing in front of a desk.

"I sent you because you have never failed me before, but if you can't get me those files, I will change tactics, Y/n."

"Erik, please. Don't write me off. I can do this. I just need a few days to recharge and rework the plan."

"You have one week, Y/n. If you haven't succeeded by then, I will send in Mystique." Magneto waves you away from his desk and you exit his office. You flop down on a couch in the sitting room as you pull long gloves up your arms.

"So, you struck out," the blue-skinned beauty teases as she sits next to you.

"Shut up, Raven," you groan.

"Aww. Don't get all upset. How was the Iron Man?"

"He was fine...for a human. It was that damn JARVIS program that got me." You sigh deeply, leaning your head against the back of the couch. "Who knew an AI could recognize a thief and send a robot to knock me out?"

"Damn. You got into the Tower and everything?"

"I got into the lab. I was so close. Now, I have to figure out how to get in there again. Can't go the normal route."

"Why don't you just release your little pheromones into the Tower, let them all play with you until the headache kicks in, then hold Stark off until he turns off the damn computer system?"

"It may work, may not. I might not even be able to make it near any of them. I don't even know. Either way, I have to take a day or two. I almost completely blew my load getting out of that building."

"Poor baby."

"Yeah, fuck you, Gonzo." You stand, pushing past the blue woman to head to your room. It was hard to think about the fact that Erik dismissed you so callously. It was almost like he only wanted you around when you were fucking men for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You climb up several sets of fire escapes to the roof of a building in Bedford-Stuyvesant, New York, New York. Clint Barton stands on the opposite side of the roof, a beer in his hand as he stares out across the city lights. "You know, usually when I hit a guy with my power, he can't stop thinking about me." Clint turns to you, dropping his beer on the ledge and putting his fists up in a fighting stance. You put your gloved hands up in a nonthreatening manner. "Oh, whoa. I'm suited up. I couldn't affect you from here if I wanted to."

He drags his eyes over you. The only skin he can see is what's visible around the mask over your mouth. Everything else is covered in a purple, pink and black suit. Your hair is pulled back in a tight bun. "Okay, well...keep your distance still."

"Understandable," you respond, smiling under your mask. "I just wanted to apologize. I was just following orders. You understand that whole following orders thing, right?"

"Stark said you're a Mutant. You aren't an X-man, are you? 'Cause that'd be awkward at the next Hero Convention."

You scoff. "No. Unfortunately for me, I wasn't one of the lucky ones who was saved from the street by Saint Charles. My savior was a man of a different faith."

"So, you're Brotherhood; one of Magneto's." He doesn't ask. He knows exactly who you're referencing.

"Erik saved my life. If he hadn't found me, I'd've died homeless in Miami. He took me in, nourished and nurtured me; taught me about myself. I owe him everything."

"How'd you end up homeless?" He's relaxed a bit, taking a drink of the beer as he leans up against the ledge.

You hop up to sit on the ledge on the other side of the roof. "Imagine you're a thirteen year old girl, a virgin, and you wake up one morning and suddenly, every man who touches you thinks you are the sexiest and most desirable woman they've ever seen. Including three teachers at your middle school..." You put up three fingers. "... the doctor who was supposed to be treating you and gathering evidence of that first gang rape and two cops who came to investigate the occurrences." You flash three more fingers, then clear your throat. "Imagine your parents are hardcore Catholics who decide you have a demon in you that's causing the attacks so they send you to the priest who performed your confirmation who employs the help of three other parish priests. When they wake up and realize what they've done, two of them commit suicide right in the church." You shake your head. "I ran after that. My parents never looked for me. In fact, I heard they...held a funeral for me, buried an empty box."

Clint's eyes are searching you, trying to not show you pity but also making certain you're telling the truth. "I lived on the streets for a year and a half," you continue. "I kept gloves and long sleeves and jackets on, even in the summer in fuckin' Miami, because I was terrified of being touched. But it's not just my skin. It's in my breath. It wafts off of my hair with the slightest breeze. I learned that in the shelters. I ended up having to stay apart even from the other homeless. I have no idea how Erik found me, but he did. He walked up to me in the back of a back alley in the absolute worst part of Opa Locka and told me to come with him. He told me I was Homo Superior and that he could help me control it, that I could live a real life again. It was a dream come true.

"I owe him everything, Hawkeye. I owe him and that's why I went to the Tower, because the man I adore asked me to. But I can't do it anymore. I've been...forced into...prostitution." You look down at your boots. "Erik sending me to use my ability against Tony, using me to get into that lab and gain access to that computer...I don't even know what I was looking for, but he raped me when he sent me there. I let him force me to do something I didn't want to do, but..."

"So, you're here to...what?"

"Turn myself in," you answer.

"Really?"

"I was raped by Erik, and I...forced...I raped Tony, so I deserve...whatever the Avengers think I deserve."

"Yeah, uh, don't...say that to his face." Clint sets the beer on the ledge again and walks closer to you. "If Stark hears you call it 'rape', he'll blow a gasket. He's calling it a 'forced lapse of judgement'. Look, I can take you in, I will take you in, but I'm gonna have to call in some, uh, female help. Not that I don't trust you but I don't trust you." He pulls out his phone and taps the screen. "Hey, Katie. Uh, Kate. I need an escort. Yeah, not for me, thanks. I need a chick to come take this Mutant to the Tower. 'Cause she's a Mutant and her shit won't affect you. I don't wanna get into it. Will you come Hawkeye it up for me, please? Thank you." He pulls the phone away from his ear and smiles tightly. "Now, I have to call Tony."

You nod. He puts the phone to his ear and looks away from you. "Hey, uh...so that chick you're looking for? I know where she is. Here. In Bed-Stuy. She's turning herself in. Uh, probably because she knew you and JARVIS would zap her on the approach and that my building's only security is me and Lucky? No need, man. Kate's on the way. You don't need to send a Legionnaire. Because I already called Kate. Let her do a thing, Tony. Seriously. Thank you. Kate and I will have Aphrodite to you in thirty minutes or less. Yeah. Or your Mutant's free."

Clint pulls the phone away and looks down at it. "He hung up. I thought it was funny," he mutters before turning to you. "So...what's your name?"

You contemplate for a moment before responding, "Y/n. 'Aphrodite' is my codename."

"Well, duh. You pick that out or did Magneto?"

"I did, but Erik solidified it." Your mind drifts to Erik with his hand in your hair, fucking you from behind and grunting out 'My Aphrodite' with every thrust.

"How's he gonna take you defecting?"

"I'm not defecting."

"You're turning yourself in to the good guys. You obviously recognize Magneto was wrong and-"

"I'm done letting him use me, that doesn't mean Erik's wrong or that I think he's a...bad guy." You shake your head. "I know he's right about you Homo Sapiens. The things you do to my kind-"

"Come on. You Mutants aren't that different than us!"

"Tell that to the government who demanded we register, who built giant murder-bots to eradicate us, who've made certain that our fellow Americans are kept in constant fear of us."

"That's not unique to you Homo Superiors, Y/n. We do that shit to each other, too."

"And it's a blight on history when you do, but not for us. Not for Mutants. It's cheered when you round us up, when a child who doesn't know how to control themselves gets thrown in prison for a display of power they had no hope of stopping. You don't know what it's like to-"

"Should I come back?" a female voice asks as the door to the roof opens.

"No." Clint answers. "Kate, this is Y/n. Let's go."

"So, what's your power?"

"Kate." Clint's voice is almost a warning as the three of you start down the stairs.

"I'm just curious!" the young woman defends. "Is it rude to ask? Is that a Mutant faux pas?"

"I release pheromones that make me pretty much irresistible to men," you answer.

"But if they do sleep with her, they pass out," Clint continues.

"Yeah, that's called Postcoital Cephalalgia. It's from the rush of pheromones and hormones...little bit from the exertion."

"Wait, so you make guys orgasm so hard they pass out?" Kate asks, less like she's confused and more like she's impressed.

You smirk under your mask. "Pretty much."

"That's gotta suck," Clint mutters under his breath a little further up the stairs. "How do you ever finish?"

"I don't usually, Barton. Unless I'm with a well-trained Mutant who knows how to control himself."

"What, you don't affect Mutants the same way?" Kate asks.

"No, I do. I hit the Wolverine once and that was...painful. That one likes it rough. But he's used to overexerting himself and he's got that healing factor so he went the distance."

"Ew, Logan's like a million years old," Clint complains.

"I didn't really have a chance to care about his age. We were in a fight, I had to distract him from Erik and Raven."

"Wow, you are really nonchalant about this, like it's not..." Kate starts as you get to the last set of stairs and she walks through the door at the bottom.

"It's my life, Hawkeyes. I am the Mutant equivalent of a damn succubus. I literally can't be embarrassed about sex. I feed off of it."

"Really?" Clint exclaims.

"Well, yes and no. I mean, I still need food, but...desire charges my batteries. I get sick without sex."

"That's...would it kill you if you didn't..." Kate trails off as you walk out onto the street and she raises her arm to hail a cab.

"Longest I've ever gone without sex since I was thirteen years old was a month and that...I ended up in the hospital. The doctors fixed me right up."

Kate drops her arm and turns to you. "Thirteen?"

You shrug. "What age did you start puberty, Miss Bishop, 'cause that's when Mutants develop their powers?"

"But that's so young."

You chuckle as a cab pulls up. "You're so pure."

"What? No, I'm not!" she squeaks.

The cab ride is full of awkward silence and the driver looking at you in the mirror, confused as to why a purple ninja is in his backseat. When he pulls up to Avengers Tower, you hand him a twenty and get out. You position yourself behind Kate, obscuring his view of her until he pulls away. Clint notices, raising a confused eyebrow. "He was checking her out. His desire was...dark. It didn't taste good," you answer, walking through the rotating door into the lobby.

Tony Stark is upon you before you've made it ten feet into the building. Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, and the Vision are flanking him. "Wow, she doesn't even look like the same woman," Tony says, maybe just to himself.

"Maybe that's because she's fully clothed," Natasha quips, her lips twisting into a smirk.

"Good job, Barton," Steve says, stepping forward.

"I wouldn't get too close," Tony warns.

"She's kinda...turned off," Clint says, nodding at you. "As long as you don't touch her skin, or like, sniff her hair or something."

"Why would we do that?" Tony snaps.

"What are you going to do to her?" Kate asks.

"Why do you care?" Natasha asks.

"Well, I mean...she's...it's not her fault that she's like this."

"It was her decision to come into my club and mess with me in order to get into my lab," Tony snaps.

You put your hands up. "Don't worry about me, Hawkeye. I made my choices." You drop to your knees and put your hands on your head.

"Vision. Go ahead," Tony demands and the android flies forward, placing a set of cuffs on your wrists.

"Okay, but what are you-" Clint starts.

"We'll talk it out later, Legolas," Tony says as Vision picks you up and heads for the elevator.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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