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pet-genius · 3 years

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A complex and many-layered thing

But Harry’s anger at Snape continued to pound through his veins like venom. Let go of his anger? He could as easily detach his legs. . . .

This is the first Occlumency lesson. Harry is right, of course. Feelings don’t go away because you want them to. To let go of them when they’ve not been addressed or validated can be as hard as detaching a leg. And yet, it’s what Dumbledore asked Snape to do, and it’s what Snape had to do to survive the first war as Dumbledore’s spy. You have to ask yourself… how?

Trapped animals chew off their own legs to escape. It’s a sacrifice they make to survive.

If there’s one thing in a fic that turns me off it, it’s the idea that Occlumency shields are a thing, that Severus was so gifted at it because he’s got some power like Second Sight or being a metamorphagus. I always preferred to think of Occlumency and Legilimency as skills that can be learned, even if some have more aptitude for it than others.

Severus entered Hogwarts with the kind of life experience that primed him for developing these skills, and left it with even more. Occlumency is magical dissociation, a post-traumatic coping mechanism, and Severus has C/PTSD. More under the cut; tw: just general angst.

To survive, he would have had to develop a knack for telling how explosive and unpredictable people feel. Over his life, he faced at least two egregious examples of what Pete Walker, author of “Complex PTSD” calls “the Charming Bully”.

Especially devolved fight types can become sociopathic. Sociopathy can range along a continuum that stretches from corrupt politician to vicious criminal. A particularly nasty sociopath, who I call the charming bully, probably falls somewhere around the middle of this continuum. The charming bully behaves in a friendly manner some of the time. He can even occasionally listen and be helpful in small amounts, but he still uses his contempt to overpower and control others. This type typically relies on scapegoats for the dumping of his vitriol. These unfortunate scapegoats are typically weaker than him. […] He generally spares his favorites from this behavior, unless they get out of line. If the charming bully is charismatic enough, those close to him will often fail to register the unconscionable meanness of his scapegoating. The bully’s favorites often slip into denial, relieved that they are not the target. Especially charismatic bullies may even be admired and seen as great.

These would be James Potter and Tom Riddle, who are distantly related, I might add. Harry inherited the tendency to default to the fight response, but since he grew up the scapegoat and not the golden child, he never becomes quite as appalling, and after all, a fight response is normal when they are after you. Even so, Harry, who has both James and Voldemort inside him, triggers Severus to no end. It’s not a coincidence that the memories Harry sees when he is with him are largely horrible, and vice versa. There had to be happy or at least neutral or even boring moments, but these two detest each other, and they know they detest each other. Negative emotions and associated memories are so close to the surface they can’t be contained. This is the purpose of the Pensieve in this context - to contain the emotions. Since Severus knew what was in there when he pulled Harry out, my theory is that you don’t suddenly forget the memories you placed there, but rather you make them less fraught with emotions.

“Get up!” said Snape sharply. “Get up! You are not trying, you are making no effort, you are allowing me access to memories you fear, handing me weapons!”

Harry stood up again, his heart thumping wildly as though he had really just seen Cedric dead in the graveyard. Snape looked paler than usual, and angrier, though not nearly as angry as Harry was. “I — am — making — an — effort,” he said through clenched teeth.

“I told you to empty yourself of emotion!”

“Yeah? Well, I’m finding that hard at the moment,” Harry snarled.

“Then you will find yourself easy prey for the Dark Lord!” said Snape savagely. “Fools who wear their hearts proudly on their sleeves, who cannot control their emotions, who wallow in sad memories and allow themselves to be provoked this easily — weak people, in other words — they stand no chance against his powers! He will penetrate your mind with absurd ease, Potter!”

A lot to unpack here.

“Memories you fear,” “weapons”, “easy prey”.

Fearing your own memories, viewing your own lived experiences as weapons to be used against you, being easy prey… Severus could not be speaking louder of himself here. He is the one whose mind had been penetrated with absurd ease, he is the one who handed weapons to Voldemort, and he is the one who had to do the psychological equivalent of detaching his own leg – again and again – to survive.

I’ll argue that Severus developed a fawn response and a flight response, as fighting had never really worked out for him if it was possible at all. He had at least two more people I’d describe as bullies in his life, Tobias and Lucius.

Again from Pete Walker:

These [fawn] response patterns are so deeply set in the psyche, that as adults, many codependents automatically respond to threat like dogs, symbolically rolling over on their backs, wagging their tails, hoping for a little mercy and an occasional scrap. Webster’s second entry for fawn is: “to show friendliness by licking hands, wagging its tail, etc.: said of a dog.” I find it tragic that some codependents are as loyal as dogs to even the worst “masters”.

Remember what Sirius called him? Lucius’s lapdog. Bellatrix called him Dumbledore’s pet, Dumbledore said he dangles on Voldemort’s arm, the narrative compares Snape to a rabbit in SWM and Harry compares the Half Blood Prince to a beloved pet who had gone feral (yes, this does mean a lot to me on a personal level, yes my username is not a coincidence).

His unconscious fawn response might have been his undoing, drawn as he was to figures like Lucius and Voldemort. As an adult, I think he utilized the skills he had developed to survive in order to stitch these people up, and involuntary dissociation and fawning became Occlumency, which to me, is his signature magic. Harry needed only to banish Voldemort from his mind; Severus could not settle for this. He had to give Voldemort something, and knowing how to fawn meant knowing what to give him and how to draw himself in such a light that Voldemort would believe it. We see how he wanted to be seen by the Death Eaters: a self-serving coward who sought to hide behind Dumbledore’s apron, playing his pet. But that’s Pettigrew, not Snape. Imagine the self-immolation, the self-violation, it must have taken to convince everyone that you’re an ersatz Wormtail! Snape is a man and a prince, and the text recognizes this as Harry calls him, in the end, Dumbledore’s man, the bravest man, and as that chapter is called “The Prince’s Tale”. Voldemort thought Snape was nothing more than a “good and faithful servant,” and that his last words were “My Lord”.

But Severus had an unequaled gift for Occlumency, specifically against Voldemort, because Voldemort could not legilimens what he couldn’t feel; and he couldn’t feel love, grief, guilt, and remorse. This was Severus’s secret weapon, which would not have worked against Harry - who can feel these things, and who is also Lily’s son. I can prove it. The first time Harry gets the hang of Occlumency is after Dobby dies:

His scar burned, but he was master of the pain; he felt it, yet was apart from it. He had learned control at last, learned to shut his mind to Voldemort, the very thing Dumbledore had wanted him to learn from Snape. Just as Voldemort had not been able to possess Harry while Harry was consumed with grief for Sirius, so his thoughts could not penetrate Harry now, while he mourned Dobby. Grief, it seemed, drove Voldemort out . . . though Dumbledore, of course, would have said that it was love. . . .

Harry learned to dissociate, though fortunately in a healthier way than many of us ever get to.

Of course, Snape was a good and faithful servant… to Dumbledore, which brings us to the flight response. The chapter wherein he escapes after killing Dumbledore is called “Flight of the Prince”. He should be fighting, he had just proven that he can cast a killing curse, and yet he flees. He can literally fly, in fact: He, Lily, and Voldemort are the only ones we see pulling this off.

As a child, we see this too: He copes with his home situation by reminding himself “it won’t be long and I’ll be gone.” He is thrilled when he imagines Hogwarts, his escape; he follows Lily out of the carriage instead of confronting James and Sirius head-on (which might have saved them all a lot of pain eventually). But this doesn’t work out, we see that in terrifying detail. The next attempt at an escape is joining the Death Eaters, but this too doesn’t work out.

He can’t flee anymore.

“Severus, you cannot pretend this isn’t happening!” Karkaroff’s voice sounded anxious and hushed, as though keen not to be overheard. “It’s been getting clearer and clearer for months. I am becoming seriously concerned, I can’t deny it —”

“Then flee,” said Snape’s voice curtly. “Flee — I will make your excuses. I, however, am remaining at Hogwarts.”

Shortly thereafter:

“Severus,” said Dumbledore, turning to Snape, “you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready . . . if you are prepared . . .”

“I am,” said Snape.

He looked slightly paler than usual, and his cold, black eyes glittered strangely.

He was ready, and he was prepared. He didn’t fly; he walked toward what might well have been his end with open eyes, armed only with the strength of his mind. Before Voldemort killed him, he looked pale, again, and terrified.

“I sought a third wand, Severus. The Elder Wand, the Wand of Destiny, the Deathstick. I took it from its previous master. I took it from the grave of Albus Dumbledore.”

And now Snape looked at Voldemort, and Snape’s face was like a death mask. It was marble white and so still that when he spoke, it was a shock to see that anyone lived behind the blank eyes.

I ask myself if this was the moment he realized he had been betrayed, that by giving Dumbledore a painless death he had secured his own. Maybe he wasn’t pale because he was scared; maybe he was pale because he was shocked. He was at his absolute limit, Occluding with all his might when he could have easily saved himself. The dam is about to break. All the memories he feared, all the weapons, the entire content of his heart is about to spill through - literally.

He fawned for Voldemort, the worst of all possible masters, but in the end, he was Voldemort’s undoing. All the ways in which he was weak and powerless against Tobias, James, Lucius, et al., proved to be part of goodness and source of his power. It doesn’t surprise me in the least that Snape is so loved. I’ve never actually seen such love for any other fictional character. He represents a kind of courage that many of us need to get by, lest we simply become evil or give the fuck up (“I wish I was dead”). A kind of courage rarely celebrated. The more time I’ve spent in the fandom in general and in the Snapedom in particular, the more I am convinced of this.

#pro severus snape #snapedom #snape meta #snape love #severus snape #psychology #complex ptsd #I'm not qualified to diagnose anyone #But like #come on #sometimes JKR writes brilliance she doesn't seem to comprehend #snape #occlumency #harry potter

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linorachas · 3 years

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for the weekend. | bang chan

⁍ pairing — bang chan x reader ⁍ genre — fluff & smut ⁍ word count — 4.8k words ⁍ details — established relationship, producer!chan, choreographer!reader, lots of cuddles and kissing, oral (m. receiving), dirty talk, d/s undertones, mention of the word “cockslut”, chan worship, you’re both really in love ⁍ a/n — hello! i’m a new writing blog for skz. :D this is my first work here, so i’d love to hear your thoughts. i accept criticism, but please be nice i am trying my best ㅠㅠ part 2 is here! thank you to everyone who let me know that they wanted a part 2! ♥️ ⁍ summary — After a long week of hard work, you finally spend a weekend with Chan.

Friday - 2:03 am

Your footsteps are light and quick as you rush down the hall, duffel bag bumping against your back as it bounces from your movements.

You were sweaty, sticky, and overall about to pass out, but there was a wide grin on your face once you stopped in front of a very familiar studio door.

You had just finished helping create a choreography for an idol group, a whole day of repeating dance moves and drawing positions on papers.

Your out was supposed to be at 7, but you had done overtime with the intent to clear your schedule tomorrow. You would have to do overtime on Monday again, but that didn’t matter right now.

All that matters was the boy behind this door who was working just as hard as you are.

Inside, Chan was hunched over his desk, headphones in, hand cramping as he furiously jots down some notes.

He wasn’t required to stay in, no, he could’ve left hours ago and be asleep right now. But going home without you always bothered him, so he had decided to stay until his girlfriend was finished.

He knew you felt the same, though. You once told him that you would just be tossing and turning in bed if you went home without him. When the tables are turned and he was the one doing the overtime, you would doze on a chair beside him while he worked, or spend some time at the studio yourself.

Chan had checked the time just a few minutes ago, and he knew that you were already on your way here. Unfortunately, he had made the mistake of starting on a new project while waiting, so it would bother him if he left this unfinished while he rested at home.

So now he was cramming, rushing to finish at least a draft.

You, on the other side of the door, didn’t bother with knocking, and just pushed the door open slowly.

Your eyes immediately find your boyfriend’s busy form; Chan’s hair was covered by a reversed snapback, basketball short clad legs tucked Indian style on top of his chair.

You feel a tug on your heartstrings as you watch Chan work hard for the sake of a free day tomorrow, a free day for you two.

You smile at the way Chan taps the pen on the desk to an unfamiliar beat or taps it to the snapback on his head, before going back to writing again.

Chan also does these annoyed puffs of breath every few seconds, something you found to be very endearing ever since the first day you met.

When Chan groans in frustration, you finally walk inside and shut the door behind you, dropping your duffel bag on the floor.

Chan freezes and stops writing when he feels arms wrapping around his neck, but the feeling is immediately gone when his brain registers that it’s his baby.

You press small close mouthed kisses on Chan’s cheek before you nuzzle your head against the crook between Chan’s neck and shoulder, and a smile blooms on Chan’s face.

“Sorry,” Chan mutters, yanking his earphones down when you stop kissing him and pull away. You don’t answer. Instead, you remove Chan’s snapback from his head and card your fingers through his hair gently.

Chan sighs contentedly, eyes slipping shut as he leans his head back on the chair, following the flow of your fingers. He opens his eyes again when you lean down and press a kiss to his lips,

his nose,

and then his forehead.

You grin at him, and despite being in an unflattering upside down angle, Chan thinks you look absolutely gorgeous like this.

Barefaced, happy, and in love.

“It’s okay, Channie,” you finally say, after seconds of just gazing at each other lovingly passes. “I know you’re doing it for our vacation, anyway.”

Chan lets out a small laugh as you fix the cap back on his head. “It’s just two days, baby.”

“Two days of sleeping, eating, and maybe some sex? I don’t know about you, but that sounds like a heavenly vacation to me.” You babble unashamedly, hands sliding down Chan’s torso to massage his pecs— making him squirm and laugh— before you slide them up again to massage his shoulder joints.

Chan sighs as he lets the feeling of your fingers relieving the aches wash over him, but then he catches sight of the mess of papers on his desk, and a frustrated frown replaces his smile.

“Will you wait for me?” Chan asks hopefully. Though deep inside, he kind of already knew the answer.

Still, his heart starts to beat too fast and his stomach fills with too many butterflies when you wrap your arms around his neck again, pressing your cheek against Chan’s own as you mutter, “of course. You know I always will.”

And then you seal the promise with a kiss. Chan pretends he doesn’t chase after your lips when you pull away.

He goes back to work with you still wrapped around him, and after a few moments, you start to shift. Chan’s free hand quickly darts up to your arms that are slowly loosening, so you stay still, alarmed.

“Stay.” Chan mumbles distractedly, eyes darting hurriedly across the papers. It’s selfish, yes, making you stand behind him for God knows how long, but Chan had always worked better when you were this close.

You would have seen the embarrassed blush that dotted across Chan’s cheeks if you weren’t so flustered yourself, hiding your face in Chan’s shoulder blades again when you fail to suppress a wide grin.

So you busy yourself with basking in Chan’s warmth instead, squeezing Chan tight every once in a while just to see him squirm and attempt to glare at you.

Suddenly, all your sore muscles from dancing were gone, and you were content to stand behind your boyfriend for as long as he wanted you to.

When Chan is finally finished and you’ve shut off all the lights, locked the door and gathered all your belongings— Chan throws an arm around your shoulder while you wrap your own arm around your boyfriend’s waist.

You both giggle, talk in stage whispers, and stumble down the corridor like drunken fools despite being completely sober. You hold onto each other like it was your last time to do so, as if you were reassuring yourselves that the other is still there.

For extra measure, Chan presses his lips against your temple, whispering a sweet “I love you, Y/N. So so, so much.” that only the two of you could hear as you go out into the cold night, wrapped in each other’s warmth.

The streetlights look like stars in his eyes, and you ask yourself again how lucky you are to have fallen in love with Bang Chan.

Saturday - 2:54 pm

3:16 am, you and Chan are pressed against each other as you settle into a deep sleep, blankets tucked around your bodies to shield yourselves from the cold.

4:23 am, you accidentally kick the blanket off the bed, leaving the both of you exposed to the cold temperature of the room. You shiver in your sleep.

Chan wakes up long enough to grumble about the blanket and do a half assed search around the room, just to end up pulling you closer to his chest and wrap both his arms around you. It doesn’t do much for Chan himself, but you stop shivering then, so Chan falls back asleep with a smile on his face.

8:44 am, Chan’s phone rings. The ringtone almost rivals Chan’s snores, and the combination of the two sounds force you to wake up, annoyed. Chan was in the middle of the bed, arms and legs splayed out, while you were on top of him, cheek pressed against his chest.

You only have the energy to lift your head up, glare at the sun peeking from behind the curtain and at Chan’s phone, before you drop your head back on Chan’s chest heavily, startling the said boy awake.

Chan stops mid snore and the sound is so funny that you feel a smile tug on your lips, but then his phone rings again.

“Yah, Chan-ah,” you whine, wiggling upwards to bury your face in Chan’s neck. “Make it stop.”

“Sorry babe,” Chan groans, trying to blink the sleep away from his eyes as he cups the back of your head. His free hand reaches for his phone on the nightstand, pressing it to his ear after 3 sad attempts of hitting the answer button.

Your hearing is muffled because of your position and Chan’s hand covering your head, and you only manage to hear a “no, no, we can’t, we’re sleeping in. Sorry Bin,” before you drown out the conversation entirely, the vibrations of Chan’s voice lulling you back to sleep.

Finally, at 2:54 pm, you wake up again, but this time you’re really awake.

Your stomach is grumbling and you’re so hungry it‘s starting to hurt. You try to move, but find yourself unable to because of the limbs restricting from doing so.

This time, one of Chan’s legs is on top of you, covering your lower half entirely. Chan’s head is lying on the pillow, and there’s drool on his chin and it’s gross, so you use the sleeve of your shirt to wipe it quickly. Thankfully he didn’t drool on your hair.

Chan’s holding your other arm to his own chest as if it was a teddy bear, his body curled into your side snugly. When you lean back slightly to take a proper look at him, Chan’s nose twitches like a rabbit and the grip on your arm tightens. You snort.

“Chan. Channie,” you mutter before you bury your face in Chan’s hair, squeezing the sleeping boy in an attempt to wake him up gently.

Chan lets out a grunt, but doesn’t do much to prove he’s really awake. You sigh.

What the hell are you supposed to do now?

It takes you more than a few attempts, but you finally release your arm from Chan’s grip. However, just when you were about to start working on his leg, Chan suddenly slips his own arm under you, turning you over so you end up on top of him again. He does it so easily that it startles you, cheeks burning red at the sudden display of strength.

“It’s our day off, give me one more hour.” Chan grumbles. He was still half asleep so most of his sentence was incoherent, but if anyone was an expert in sleepy Chan language, it was you.

You glance at the wall clock on the other side of the room, grimacing once you realize why you were starving. “Shit. We really wasted the whole day away by sleeping, dude. It’s 3 pm.”

“Stop calling me dude.” He huffs. “And it’s a vacation, Y/N. Let me sleep. Let us sleep.”

You pout when you get your own words thrown back at you, and then it’s as if Chan has a sixth sense for your pouting, because he’s suddenly lifting his head up to press a kiss to your chin, eyes still closed.

You’re guessing he was aiming for your lips, but he was fighting a hard battle between properly kissing you and falling back asleep. It was endearing.

“Love you,” Chan mutters groggily, and was about to drop his head back on the pillow when you stop him with a proper kiss to the lips. It’s a very awkward angle, but you both blush and giggle as if it’s your first kiss.

“Mmmmhm,” Chan pulls away after a few seconds of close mouthed kisses, eyes now blinking open as he frowns at you. “Don’t kiss me. Morning breath.”

You giggle, leaning up on your elbows to take a proper look at him, heart squeezing at the way his lips were pouted. His bed head looked like a bird’s nest and his eyes were swollen. You couldn’t resist pressing another peck to his lips at the sight.

“But I just did.” You grin, cupping Chan’s cheek as you press small, rapid kisses on his face. “Besides, it’s afternoon.”

Chan rolls his eyes, pretending as if he wasn’t chasing your lips with every kiss. And you giggle again, because you were giddy that Chan is finally awake and you were in love with him, and those two don’t really connect, but whatever.

Barely a minute passes before Chan’s eyes start to slip shut again, and it’s only then that you realize you’ve been running your hand through your boyfriend’s hair unconsciously.

“The day’s over, anyway,” Chan places a hand at the back of your head, gently leading you to his neck. He presses a kiss to your forehead then yawns, fingernails scratching your scalp gently to lure you into going back to sleep. “Let’s just stay in bed.”

And you, you were so tempted to say yes, especially with how warm and comfortable you were in the love of your life’s arms, but then your stomach starts to wail like a dying animal, and both you and Chan wince.

“Chan-“

“I heard it.”

You laugh, a loud, refreshing sound that makes Chan’s heart pump wildly, and you feel his lips form into a smile when he presses a kiss to your forehead again, longer this time.

Chan then wraps both of his arms around your waist, turning you both over to the side. Your arms come up to lock around Chan’s neck, and your eyes meet when you look up.

Chan’s eyes were twinkling, and you’re not so sure if it’s because of the light behind you.

“Hello,” Chan says casually, and you make a sound between huffing and laughing.

“Will you at least let me go so I can make breakfast?”

“It’s already afternoon,” Chan half-heartedly reasons, his arms tightening around you as he leans down to press another kiss to your nose.

“Breakfast time is any time. Whoever thinks otherwise should be jailed.”

Chan ignores you, busy pressing a few more pecks to your cheeks, nudging your nose with his own.

You whine. “Come on, baby. You need to eat. I know you’re hungry too.”

And Chan is, but he doesn’t want to leave the bed yet. He’s not pouting, he swears he isn’t, but he knows he’s making a face because you were smiling all amusedly at him again, like you were surprised he was acting this way.

Who could blame him, really? He had a whole day off, a beautiful girl in his arms, and unlimited kisses to give and receive. Why would he leave this warm bubble without a fight?

Chan tightens his grip and rolls again, and you were getting out of breath from laughing and trying to push him away. Your boyfriend pins you down on the bed, holding your hands above your head and intertwining your fingers together.

“Hello,” Chan says again, grinning down at your flushed face.

The sudden displays of strength kept catching you off guard, and your face was reddening for a multitude of reasons.

“Hi,” you reply, albeit breathlessly, and you tilt your head up as a way of asking for a kiss.

Chan leans down slowly, too slowly for your liking, so you groan loudly. Chan laughs but finally presses your lips together, subconsciously loosening his grip on your hands. You free them from his grasp to cup his cheeks.

You can feel Chan smile against your own lips, and you only go as far as nibbling on the other’s bottom lip before you decide something and push him back.

“Y/N,” Chan whines, chasing after you again, but you stop him with a finger to his chest and a quick peck to the lips. He stops, clearly confused.

You push him back further, making him fall onto his side. He seems to catch on when you start straddling him, knees on other sides of his hips.

“Oh.” Chan gapes, eyes blinking up at you stupidly. You laugh.

“Yeah, oh.”

You drag the hem of his shirt up, deliberately scratching your nails against the hard muscles of his abs. Chan groans at that, hips bucking up involuntarily.

As he busies himself with taking his shirt off properly, you start to press open mouthed kisses down his chest, tongue laving against the prominent lines of his stomach. You start sucking near the navel, leaving a big, deep purple hickey that contrasts heavily against his pale white skin.

Chan hadn’t said anything since you started, but he was leaning back on his elbows, dark eyes following your every move. You felt the way his eyes followed the curve of your body as you adjusted to kneeling so you could move further down, making you shiver. It was almost like he was touching you with how intense his stare was. But his hands stayed at his sides, calm and waiting to strike.

You knew that would change soon.

There was already a noticeable bulge by the time you got down to his crotch, making you bite back a smile. You know Chan could feel your amusement because he uses his feet to tickle you at your side, making you laugh.

“Get on with it, pretty.” His tone was playful, but his hooded eyes were saying otherwise.

You listened obediently though, because at the end of the day, all you really wanted was to be good for Chan. All you wanted was to pleasure him, to make him feel good, to let him know that you wanted him to be happy.

And if a mindblowing orgasm from a morning wood blowjob was the way to success… well.

You don’t waste any time in taking off his boxers, desperate to see the cock you loved. It wasn’t a secret that you were a bit of a cockslut, but it was technically Chan’s fault. When he slid his cock in you the first time and made you cum so hard you almost passed out, you were ruined for anybody else ever.

You loved him inside you, loved him pounding so deep into you you felt the head of his cock in your cervix, and also loved him when he took it slow and let you feel every inch— every vein that lined along his fat cock. You loved when you were at his mercy.

But you also loved when you had that same cock in your mouth, filling you all the way to your throat. You were guessing you had a bit of an oral fixation, since sometimes you craved the weight of it at random times of the day. You just wanted his cock in your mouth, and you knew Chan was more than happy to oblige.

Chan’s sizeable cock slapped up against his stomach when you finally took away its confines, precum smearing against his skin. Chan’s fingers tighten against the sheets when you lean forward and kitten-licked that same precum off, his cock bumping against your cheek.

“Baby,” he exhaled, brows furrowing. “Are you playing games right now?”

“No,” you answer, but as soon as the word left your mouth, you flattened your tongue and licked a thick stripe up at the side of his cock, making Chan groan and throw his head back.

You swirl your tongue around the angry purple tip of his cock, letting his precum coat your tongue. But you don’t swallow it, not yet. You let the liquids fall back onto his cock, using it as lubricant for your hand that comes up to stroke him.

Chan grunted, bucking up into the tight space of your hand as his head lolled forward. He watches you with lidded eyes, and you tilt your head so he could feel the hot exhale of your breath on his cock. Predictably, you felt it twitch.

A hand comes to cup the back of your head, and you look up through your lashes to see Chan licking his lips and swallowing.

“Come on,” he urges, hand sliding down to tilt your head up. He slides his thumb into your mouth and your lips close around it immediately, sucking. Chan shudders. “Be good for me.”

And you obey.

As soon as Chan’s thumb slipped out of your mouth, you replaced it with his cock, tongue flattening as you took half of him in your mouth. Your lips stretched obscenely, Chan’s girth and length stretching your mouth to its limits.

But instead of deterring you, it only made you moan. You already felt so full even if you hadn’t taken his entire cock in your mouth yet, almost gagging when you felt the tip nudge the back of your throat. Your eyes flick up, watching as Chan’s jaw tightened, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

You bob your head up and down slowly, understanding that Chan was letting you take the lead. His hand stayed cupped at the back off your head, a reassuring constant as you did your best to breathe through your nose.

The slick sounds your mouth was making echoed along with Chan’s muttered curses in your quiet room, the only other sound being the traffic outside.

“Shit. Shit,” Chan exhaled, chest heaving. He was always much more sensitive in the morning. “Your mouth, baby. That fucking mouth.”

And much more noisier.

“So good for me.” Chan whispers, voice rough and heated. He brushes the back of his hand against your hollowed cheeks, then cards his fingers through your hair so he could see your face properly. “Look at you, my cock in your mouth first thing in the morning. What a sight.”

You moan at his words, and the vibrations that come from your throat make him twitch in your mouth. Chan refrains from bucking his hips, but he slips up sometimes when gets too lost in the pleasure. There’s an apology on his lips every time, but you shut him up quickly with a harsh suck to his throbbing cock.

You know he’s close when the twitching gets more frequent and his thighs start tensing around your head, his hand going from tugging on your hair instead of just resting there. Chan gets quieter as well, his nasty praises trailing off to grunts and broken moans.

Your jaw was aching, but the quiet gasps of your name spurs you on more than you’d like to admit. Because as much as you loved to be under Chan’s mercy, something about him losing his mind over your mouth and saying your name like it was his last prayer did things to you. The slick heat between your legs reminded you of it.

His pleasure was your pleasure.

You’re forcibly pulled off when Chan tugs your head back, and you’re just about to complain when Chan suddenly sits up and grabs his cock with his free hand, keeping the tip of it in your mouth.

“Look at me.” He hisses, and you obey immediately.

You look up at him through your lashes, suckling at the head of his cock as much as he let you. He jerks himself off quickly, using your spit as lube and groaning at the lewd sight of your lips wrapped around him and the feeling of your tongue insistently brushing against the underside of his cock.

“I’m gonna cum, baby, shit-“ he grunts through gritted teeth, and you squirm as you watch his abs and arms flex with each movement.

Chan had his head thrown back now, sweat dripping down his throat and his pale skin reddening as he got closer and closer to his release.

“I’m gonna cum in this pretty mouth. This perfect mouth, only mine to use, hm? Just mine and mine alone, fuck- god, fuck!“

You tug Chan’s hand away and swallow his cock down your mouth again as soon as the first spurt of his cum hits your tongue, making him flinch.

He’s clearly torn between tugging your head away due to the oversensitivity, or pushing his cock farther down your mouth. His hand flexes in your hair, unsure of what to do.

You decide for him.

Your throat works against him, struggling to swallow his cum and keep his cock in your mouth at the same time. You were determined to milk his whole orgasm out of him, and you weren’t going to stop until he was dry and shaking. The moans Chan lets out this time are almost close to whimpers as he falls back against the mattress, hips bucking uselessly.

“Y/N,” he whines, gasping for breath, and you rub your hands up and down his hips to ground him. You clean him up slowly, aware that the oversensitivity must be bordering on pain now.

Chan groans, arms coming up to hide his reddened face. “Baby, enough, please. Come here, come up, I want a kiss. Please.”

You bite back a smile as you pull off his cock, sucking one last hickey to his navel and reveling in his stuttered moan. You crawl up the bed slowly, kissing the exposed part of Chan’s chin; the only area that wasn’t covered by his arms.

“Good?” You ask, sitting on his stomach now.

“Good?” He squawks, disbelief written all over his face when he pulls his arms away. His face was still red, as well as the upper parts of his chest. “Good?! You- god, I can’t believe you. Come here, you little minx.”

He growls, pulling you into a bruising kiss. Your hands come up to cup his cheeks again, moaning as he bit on your lips and sucked on your tongue like a starving man. Chan’s hands grope your breasts through your shirt, thumbing your slowly hardening nipples and making you squirm.

When he pulls away from the kiss and trails his lips down your neck, his hands move lower as well. He hooked his thumbs in your shorts, one second from pulling them down and having his way with you. But-

Speaking of starving.

“Channie,” you whine, stopping his hands. He freezes immediately, pulling back to look at you. Concern was written all over his face, and you would have cooed if you didn’t have more pressing matters at hand.

You frowned. “I’m really hungry.”

Chan gapes at you, stunned. He blinks rapidly, eyes going from your frowning face to his hands by your shorts. “I- are you- do you not want me to return the favor? You just gave me the best orgasm of my life.”

You snort, knowing he was exaggerating, but Chan looked dead serious. You roll your eyes then, locking your lips in a heated kiss again for a few seconds to satiate your needy boyfriend. You keep your forehead pressed together when you pull back slightly to look in his dazed eyes, still filled with want.

You drag the tip of your index finger across his lip, smirking. “I’ll make you a deal. If you put some food in my stomach, I promise I’ll let you fuck me six ways to sunday.” You grind down, making him hiss. “It’s been too long since you made me cry, no?”

Chan’s eyes darkened. You licked your lips.

But then, the next thing you know, the world was upside down, and you were being carried outside your bedroom over your boyfriend’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Bang Chan!” You squeak, heart pounding wildly in your chest. “Put me down, you crazy idiot! What the hell are you doing!”

“Putting some food in your stomach.” Chan replied simply, like that was the answer to all your questions. “No take backs.”

You pause for a second, then find yourself laughing at the absurdity of the situation. Chan was still naked. You smack his ass repeatedly, making him yelp on the way to the kitchen.

“You’re insane.” You laugh as he finally sets you down on the kitchen counter, wrapping your arms around his neck when he squeezes himself in between your thighs.

“You love me.” He giggles, looking too smug for your own liking. But then his face softens, and you blink in surprise when he presses a soft kiss to your lips,

then your nose,

then your forehead,

then your lips again.

“And I love you . More than anything.”

It’s the softest kiss you’ve shared since you woke up, and that was saying something. You look up at Chan, dazed at the sudden switch of mood. He was looking at you tenderly, eyes twinkling as he smiled, dimples popping out.

Your heart pounded in your chest again, beating so hard you felt like it was going to come out of you. You love him. You were so in love with Bang Chan that it hurt, and you wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of your life in his arms, just like this. Always.

“Now,” Chan grinned wide, stepping back as he clapped his hands twice. He was looking very determined, arms crossed and bulging over his chest as he looked around the kitchen.

Your eyes meet, and your breath catches in your throat when he smirks.

“Time to fulfill my part of the deal so we can get on with yours.”

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infamous-light · 3 years

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Chase The Night Away

Alcina Dimitrescu x Reader, Alcina's Daughters & Reader

Summary: Alcina had to be away for a single night but you didn't think it would affect you so negatively.

Suffering from a terrible nightmare, the daughters help comfort you throughout the night.

Word Count: 3.7K

AO3: Chase The Night Away

You curl up into a ball, bringing your knees closer to your chest as you nuzzle your face against the soft silken sheets held in your grip. It felt weird to sleep alone on such a large bed when Alcina wasn't here to rest beside you, holding you flush against her body. You always slept soundly in her strong arms. You felt safe and secure.

You realized that this is the first time you will be sleeping alone without her and quite frankly, you don't like it. You couldn't help but feel anxious. It reared its ugly head as small knots formed low in your stomach, twisting and churning about. You didn't think being alone in your shared bedchambers for a single night would cause you this much distress.

Yeah, this will be not be happening again. If Alcina has to ever leave for the night, you're going with her.

Earlier in the day, Alcina informed you that she would be away, just for the night, managing her wine business. You were surprised at first but you didn't think twice about it. You don't know the inner workings of it all but you have heard that a few of her business associates operate at odd hours of the day.

You stare out the window between the gap where the dark red colored drapes haven't entirely blocked the outside world from your view. Light rain patters against the cool glass, sliding down in rivulets, collecting on the window ledge. You're transfixed at the sight. You always liked watching the rain since it helped soothe your nerves.

Looking beyond the glass pane of the window, you could barely make out the few sparkling stars that attempt to shine their brightness through the dark clouds in the night sky. You wish you could see them more clearly. It would make for a beautiful night. Taking a deep breath, you slowly close your eyes as you listen to the continuous light tapping of the rain against the windowpane and the surrounding structure of the castle.

You pull the bed sheets further over yourself before you start to feel your mind slowly drifting away as you finally succumb to sleep, falling into a deep slumber.

***

You run as fast as your legs can take you. Long spindly branches from overreaching trees and large mangy bushes whip past you as you traverse the unknown territory. Your heart beats rapidly inside of your chest as you have no idea where you are going. You just needed to get somewhere safe.

And fast.

A cold chill suddenly shoots down your spine as you hear the loud growling surround you from all sides in the dense forest. Your breath comes out in short gasps, the muscles in your legs start to burn from how hard you have been pushing yourself. The hair on the back of your neck prickles, knowing that the monstrous creatures are quickly moving in on you.

A sharp snap from directly behind you causes you to cry out in terror. You don't look back, you just keep running forward. The vicious snarling moves ever closer, becoming more desperate and raring. Shadowy figures begin to emerge from their hiding spots, appearing from both sides of the forest and even up in the trees.

Their glowing yellow eyes shine brightly from within the darkness of the forest, drinking in your terrified state. You could see the hunger deep in their eyes as they continue to snap their jaws threateningly at you.

Tears start to well up in the corner of your eyes. You weren't sure if you were going to get out of this horrifying situation alive. It was just too dark. Everything was too damn dark!

You yelp as you trip over something. You slam roughly into the dirt, your breath quickly leaves your lungs. Without hesitating, you quickly scramble forward, trying to find something your hands can purchase on for protection.

The rustling of bushes and small twigs snapping sound deafening to your ears as thunderous stomps draw nearer to you. You swiftly glance up and your blood runs cold. You could see the silhouette of the monsters standing a few feet away from you now.

You flip yourself over onto your back and your eyes widen in fear as you realized that you were surrounded by lycans. They all howl in unison as they finally caught their prey. You lay there still as a statue, absolutely petrified.

One of them slowly creeps towards you, growling low in their throat, a blood-thirsty look in its eyes as it hovers over your prone form.

"N-no..." You whimpered, your body now trembling in fear.

It bares its long jagged teeth at you while raising its sharp claws, preparing to strike you. They all stand above you now and you begin to hyperventilate. It can't end like this.

They all lunge at you and you let out a blood-curdling scream.

***

You scream out in pure terror as you quickly shot up in bed, frantically scrambling to remove the bedcovers off of you, wanting to escape. You jump out of bed, running to the corner of the room, pressing your back against the wall while bracing your hand over your rapidly beating heart. You bunch the front of your shirt up in a tight grip as you try to get your breathing under control again. You blink a few times, slowly taking in your surroundings. You start to realize that you're not in a forest but back in the castle. You never left your shared bedchambers.

You could cry tears of happiness.

You almost jumped out of your skin from fear when the doors to your room suddenly slammed open, bouncing off of the wall quite loudly. Cassandra immediately entered while in her dark nightgown with her sickle in her right hand, ready to face any attacker.

She swiftly glanced over the room until her golden eyes landed on you. Her features morphed from fierce protectiveness to confusion.

"(Y/N)... are you ok?" Cassandra asked cautiously. She set her sickle aside gently, placing it on the drawer dresser, her gaze never once straying from you. You noticed how tense you still were. You must still look like a frightened little rabbit, cornered by a bunch of big hungry wolves.

You were about to answer until you heard the sound of loud buzzing quickly making its way over to you and Cassandra. You watch as Bela and Daniela appear out of the swarm, merging back into their whole form once more.

"What's going on?" Bela demanded as she entered the bedroom as well, looking over to Cassandra for answers.

"I'm not sure. I arrived shortly before you did." Cassandra shrugged, still staring at you intently.

Daniela peeked her head over Bela's shoulder, wanting to see what was going on. Once her eyes connected with yours, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Bela finally turned to look at you, her calculating golden eyes observing you from across the room.

She slowly made her way over to you, now standing a few feet away from you, her expression softening a little. "(Y/N), do you want to tell us what happened?" She asked gently, attempting to calm your nerves with her voice.

You didn't realize that your heart was still racing inside of your chest and that they all could probably hear it from a mile away. You finally release a long deep breath you weren't aware you've been holding in for this entire time.

You push yourself off of the wall, giving a slight nod as you answer Bela's question. "I-I just... I had a terrible nightmare. I never experienced anything so vivid before. I didn't even recognize where I was for a moment..." You trail off quietly, looking everywhere but at Bela.

Bela stared at you in silence for a moment before taking a step closer to you, resting her hand on your left shoulder, gently squeezing it. "Will you be ok?"

You nod feebly again. "I think so..."

"Let's get you back into bed." She placed her hand on your lower back, gently guiding you back over to your bed. You climbed back into bed as she slid the bedcovers over your body, tucking you in. "Are you sure you will be fine, little one?"

"Y-yeah..."

Bela doesn't look convinced but you know she won't push you for answers. "If you need anything, just call for any one of us, understood?" They were all prepared to leave but you felt an uncomfortable feeling wash over you.

"Wait!" You blurted out. They suddenly stopped in their tracks and they all turned to look at you, staring at you inquisitively. "I actually don't want to be alone right now..." You could feel yourself already blushing at what you were about to ask of them. "C-could you all stay with me for the night? Like, could we... um, all cuddle together in bed?"

Oh, this was embarrassing. Maybe you shouldn't have asked.

You couldn't help but cringe internally when all three sisters shared a silent look between each other.

"Oh... of course we can!" Bela sounded surprised, almost baffled. You could tell she was trying to act composed but she was failing to mask her shock. She turned back to face Cassandra and Daniela. Cassandra's eyebrows receded into her hairline, clearly surprised as well while Daniela tilted her head to the side in curiosity, but seemed excited at the prospect. "Right, sisters?"

Cassandra appeared to snap out of her stupor and smirked in response, her eyes shining in amusement as they landed on you once more. You awkwardly smile back at her and she snorted quietly to herself, finding you endearing in her own way. "We can absolutely cuddle with you."

Daniela squealed in delight. "Yes! We definitely can!" She immediately bounded over to your bedside, excitement rolling off of her in waves while her two sisters began to make their way over to you. You pulled back the bedcovers as they all climbed into your bed together.

You all attempt to huddle together, trying to find the most comfortable position to be in. Bela ends up in the center with you laying your head on her abdomen while your legs are entangled along with hers. Cassandra is on your right side, resting on the other side of Bela as her head is settled on the eldest sister's stomach as well, her face near yours. She grabbed one of your hands, intertwining your fingers with hers.

Daniela is pressed against your back, wrapping her arms around your waist, hugging you tightly in her embrace. They were cool to the touch but not unbearably so. You sigh contentedly as they all cuddle you, surrounding you from all sides. You let your mind drift off to a peaceful place with not a single worry in the world.

Your eyes slowly drift closed as Bela lightly combs her fingers through your hair.

Daniela hums, nuzzling her face in your neck. "So warm."

The redhead somehow managed to meld herself even closer to your body, subconsciously squeezing you around the waist even tighter until you let out a small squeak in protest.

"Daniela, you're holding them too tightly!" Bela lightly chastised.

"Sorry..." Daniela sheepishly said as she released her hold on you just enough where you could breathe in a little air again. You could hear Daniela mumbling to herself again, something about 'humans' and 'so warm'.

Cassandra rolled her eyes at her youngest sister before a mischievous smile spread across her face. She tightened her grip on your hand, purposefully tugging you closer to her. Daniela whined loudly in response.

"Stop pulling them away from me, Cassandra!"

Daniela swiftly pulled you away from Cassandra, huffing in exasperation while doing so. The brunette narrowed her eyes at Daniela, yanking you back closer to her. All you could do was let yourself be pulled back and forth between the two sisters, reminding you of your early childhood where you use to play tug-of-war with your friends. Except, you're the rope in this situation. You felt like a rag doll that was about to be torn to pieces between two children who didn't know how to share.

You could hear Bela mutter something under her breath before raising her voice. "Alright, you two! That's enough!"

"Cassandra started it." Daniela scoffed, pulling you back into her. You could feel her glowering stare pierce through you, landing onto Cassandra.

Cassandra cackled, amusement dancing vividly across her gold irises, clearly enjoying antagonizing her youngest sister. You stare off into the distance, left dumbfounded by the whole ordeal. You wondered if you should say something or not but decided not to, letting the girls maneuver you around until they found their comfortable position with you once more.

Bela returned back to running her fingers through your hair, chuckling lightly to herself. "Forgive my sisters' behavior, they can be a handful at times."

You tried not to laugh at that, thinking back on past experiences involving both Cassandra and Daniela. They definitely can be a handful.

Yeah, I'm all too aware of that...

"We're right here, Bela..." Cassandra glanced towards her eldest sister, an annoyed expression on her face.

"Uh... it's fine, really." You laughed awkwardly, unsure of what to say in response. It wasn't a big deal to you. You're just happy that you're not alone while Alcina had to be away for the night.

"Do you mind telling us what happened in your nightmare?" Daniela asked softly, changing the topic. You were pulled out of your thoughts at Daniela's question and you hesitated to answer, biting your lower lip in anxiety. You're worried that they may find your reaction to your nightmare stupid to begin with but you decided to answer.

"I-I was being chased by a bunch of lycans throughout a forest. I didn't make it in the end..." You swallowed thickly, quickly glancing downwards, prepared to hear them laugh at the brief retelling of your nightmare.

Cassandra scoffs. "Those foul disgusting creatures wouldn't stand a chance against us. They won't come close to you with us nearby." She gave your hand an extra squeeze, reassuring you that you are safe here.

You could feel Daniela's eager nod against the back of your head. "We'll keep you safe! We won't let any harm come to you!"

"I'm in agreement with my sisters. Those stench rotting beasts won't dare come near Mother's territory. You have nothing to fear, little one. We'll protect you." Bela stated as she continued to play with your hair.

A huge smile broke out across your face at each of the girls' responses. "Thank you so much for doing this for me." You said. They all spoke out at once, assuring you that they were happy to be of help and that they enjoyed cuddling you. You let yourself soak in their affections for you before silence filled the room again.

Bela stopped running her fingers through your hair to instead press your head firmly against her abdomen, letting her hand rest atop your head. Cassandra pulled your hand closer to her chest, enveloping it in both of her hands, relishing in the body heat that you give off.

Daniela managed to quiet down, her soft breathing brushing against the back of your neck.

To your surprise, Bela began to lightly hum a tune. You didn't recognize it but you liked it all the same. You let out a deep sigh. It felt soothing to be in each of their presence, being held securely in their grasp. Your anxiety and fears from earlier faded away into peacefulness.

You felt your hand being raised and you opened your eyes slightly to see that Cassandra has your hand nestled underneath her chin, a serene look on her face.

It was nice to see Cassandra's usually self-satisfied expression now replaced by a soft sleepy look and you secretly found it adorable. You wouldn't dare tell her though, knowing that she may decide to terrorize you- not in a harmful way- until the rest of your days.

Daniela was mumbling under her breath as she lightly dug her nails into your shirt. It seems that she already drifted off to sleep. You smiled to yourself, happy that Daniela already fell asleep by your side.

Bela continued humming her tune and you close your eyes once more, letting her slowly lull you to sleep.

***

Alcina returned early in the morning, shortly before the sun was to rise over the horizon. She released a long ragged sigh as she was finally happy to be back home after a long grueling night traveling to and fro between different business associates.

She slowly stretched the muscles in her neck, tilting her head side to side, attempting to ease the knots that formed across her shoulders from sitting in the carriage for too long.

After a minute of loosening all her muscles, she began to make her way to you, taking the staircase in the foyer, and walking down the many different hallways in the castle. She was looking forward to snuggling you now that she's back.

She stopped in front of the bedroom door, grabbed the handle, and slowly pushed the door open as to not wake you. She didn't have to bend and duck through the doorway as she usually does since she had the opening rebuilt for her height.

Her back thanked her for it. Eventually, she'll get the other doorways repurposed for the same exact reason.

She stepped into the room and paused at the sight before her. Her pleasant expression turned to shock.

She was in slight awe at seeing you cuddling her daughters in the bed you two shared with you laying partially on top of Bela as Cassandra and Daniela sandwiched you in on both sides. She never thought she would witness such a thing but her heart quickly warmed at the sight, a small smile appearing on her face as she quietly walked over to the bedside.

Though, that begs the question. Why were you and her daughters cuddling in the first place? What did she miss while she was away?

Daniela roused slightly in place, slowly blinking her eyes while sleepily mumbling. "Mother...?"

"Shh... go back to sleep, darling." She leaned over to brush her hand down Daniela's head, soothing her back to sleep. She lightly ran her hand down yours and each of her daughter's heads before soundlessly leaving the room to allow you all to get some further rest.

***

You awoke with a beaming smile on your face as the girls still surrounded you in bed. They haven't left your side for a single moment and you were grateful for that. Thankfully, the nightmare you had never returned during the night. They all started to slowly wake up at the same time you did.

"How did you sleep?" Bela asked you groggily, rubbing lazy circles on your shoulder.

"I slept great actually. Thank you all again for doing this for me." You slowly sat up, smiling shyly at each of them.

"I'd be happy to do it again!" Daniela hugged you tightly one last time before climbing out of bed, tidying up her nightgown. She was full of energy it seems.

Cassandra gave you a small smile as she brushed some hair strands out of your face. "You're very welcome, little one."

Bela hummed in agreement. "We're happy that we could be here for you."

After lazing about for a few more minutes, you all got yourselves ready to start the day.

***

You found yourself humming the same tune Bela did last night as you make your way to Alcina's study. You rapped your knuckles on the door a few times before hearing Alcina loudly say 'enter'. You pushed the door open and peeked your head inside, smiling once your eyes landed on Alcina sitting at her desk, sorting through a variety of documents.

She turned to look at you and she smiled brightly once you entered fully, closing the door behind you. You quickly ran over to her and hopped in her lap to wrap your arms around her neck, giving her a tight hug.

She chuckled at your overly excited state. "I take it you missed me?"

You pull back to look her in the face, rolling your eyes playfully. "No, I'm not. Why are you even here?" You laughed as she lightly smacked your arm.

"Watch that mouth of yours, dear." She playfully glared at you before smiling again and pulling you in for a much tighter hug.

"So, how was your night?" You ask.

"Oh, it was dull and uninteresting. Believe me, dear, the details would put you right back to sleep. Though, not much has changed logistics-wise." She trailed off as she stared out the window before looking at you once more, raising a single eyebrow in curiosity. "It appears you've had an eventful night. I wasn't expecting the girls to be asleep in our bed when I walked in this morning."

You quickly darted your eyes away from Alcina's face, furrowing your eyebrows when images of your nightmare flashed in your mind. You tried to formulate a response before Alcina responded again, her voice laced with concern.

"What wrong, darling?"

You shake your head slightly at yourself, realizing how silly this may sound to Alcina. You know the girls responded without judgment but you still felt nervous telling Alcina some things. "Ah... it was nothing serious. I just had a nightmare. That's all." You shyly glance down towards the floor, afraid to see how Alcina may respond to that.

You feel a cool gloved hand cup the side of your face, slowly dragging your gaze away from the floor, forcing you to look into her worried golden eyes. "It was not nothing if you required the presence of the girls to comfort you. You know that I would never dismiss anything you tell me. I do care about you, darling. Very much so."

"I care about you a lot too..."

Alcina found herself smiling softly at the thought of her daughters comforting you when you clearly needed it while, unfortunately, she wasn't there to provide that comfort directly herself. "I must say, it was an adorable sight to behold. They truly have come a long way when it comes to you. They warmed up to you greatly."

You tuck your head under her chin, closing your eyes as you nuzzle your face against her neck. "And I couldn't be any happier with that."

#lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #resident evil village #gender neutral reader

474 notes · View notes

inkdemonapologist · 3 years

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SESSION TWELVE of the BatIM Call of Cthulhu game, aka Continuing to have a Great Time At The Masquerade! : )

Joey and Bendy destabilised early on, meaning Joey went through the ENTIRE masquerade UNABLE TO STOP SMILING

getting some mixed messages here, Joey

Sometimes u dress ur characters up as rabbits for fun but then you have a lot of emotions about them losing their minds and then u gotta draw them losing their minds while dressed as rabbits... anyway Jack being mind-controlled did NOT help Sammy hold onto his mental stability at this nightmare party in case you were wondering,

ANYWAY HAVE, MORE OUT-OF-CONTEXT QUOTES, UNDER THE CUT

[Sammy is played by me, Joey is played by Boo (inkyvendingmachine), Henry is played by Maf (inkcryptid), Jack is played by Mochi (whatyouwantedmetosee) and Thren (haunted-hijinxer) is our GM!]

[GM] Joey, make a POW roll also... [Joey] Oh, boy, [GM] ...because Bendy was also told to enjoy this party, and you guys just passed a plate of food, and he wants to eat! [Jack] FEED YOUR SON! [Joey] No!!! [Henry] HES A HUNGRY BOY! [Sammy] A GROWING BOY!

[Henry] Henry will look back to see if Moonlight is trying to follow them! [GM] He will see that Moonlight has grabbed onto the railing of the stairs and is hobbling slowly down them. [Joey] *extremely evil-sounding cackling*

[Jack] All Cthulhu Official Dice actually come weighted, to make you fail.

[Henry] Gotta try harder than that, bitch! [Henry] ....that wasn't in character. [Jack] It's in character, but he's only thinking it. [Sammy] That's the golden text you see on the wall if you use the seeing tool

[Henry] My Luck is 68, I don't know what y'all are doing! [Jack] We're spending Luck so that we'll fail! [Sammy] BEING UNLUCKY! I've barely spent any Luck, I'm just NOT A LUCKY GUY

[Henry] Oh, Avedon's here, [GM] There's a gunshot, and he tries to shoot Fowler! [Joey] Um, well, uh, whoops!, rest in peace Fowler! [Sammy] Yeah, that'll sort itself out, let's go! [GM] Moonlight seems to reconsider from telling people to grab you guys, to grabbing Avedon instead. [Joey] Oh! THANKS AVEDON, your sacrifice will, not be thought about in the slightest!!!

[Sammy] Is... weird question, does this room look like it matches the architecture of the rest of the house? [GM] [GM] [GM] ...make a sanity check.

[Sammy] It would be a like, Come on Jack, do you know where you are, shake it off, snap out of it, kind of thing. [GM] Why don't you make a... a.... oh boy, [Sammy] One of my REALLY persuasive social skills?

[GM] This probably just registers to Jack as, Sammy griping about a party, which isn't that strange. [Jack] Yeahhhh, he wants to leave. He always does that. I wanna stay at least a little longer! [GM] That just means it's Jack's job to find them something fun and good to do. [Sammy] Oh boy, [GM] I don't think Jack is being compelled to be aggressive about this necessarily, he just feels like he's Jack at a party, doing the things Jack normally does, and trying to have a good time! [Sammy] Ah, and everyone else is being weird, [GM] Yeah! Everybody's being really weird! You're at this nice party, and now you're in this weird room? The party's back there somewhere! [Jack] I mean not that he's opposed to bein' dragged into side rooms at parties by cute boys, but,

[GM] The table looks like a table that Henry has in his house, actually. [Sammy] Have I ever been in Henry's house? These are questions I didn't expect to need to ask tonight.

[Sammy] Jack, this is weird! You see this is weird, right?! [Jack] Well yeah, it is kinda weird that we're in-- what are we doing here? [Joey] Joey is going to grab Jack's arm, and point to the next door, and go "Party is this way!"

[GM] Peter looks worried... [Sammy] Sammy looks worried too! Well, Sammy looks angry, but in a worried way.

[Joey] Joey is going to scream frustratedly. [Sammy] Is there ink in this room? [GM] There is not. [Jack] Is there a party in this room? [GM] Definitely no, only the party you bring with you.

[Joey] Joey is going to scream again. [Joey] He's also going to kick the door. He might stub his toe. [Sammy] Through all this, Joey is smiling. I just need us all to remember that. [Joey] YES. Also his tail is furiously going. [GM] Bendy is also upset! There is nothing to eat here.

[Joey] Joey is going to try to feed Bendy some ideas, [GM] He doesn't want ideas, he wants food!

[Joey] So.... what happens if you fumble a sanity roll?

[GM] See, here's the silly part. At this point, right? At this point, the best place to do the tasks you want to do, involve either getting the stone out of the room with the safe, or having the staff that Henry is currently holding. [Sammy] So you would arrive, by completely different means, to the same place that we are! [GM] Clearly Joey is inside the safe.

[Jack] Bad and naughty Joey Drews get put in the safe to atone for their sins!

[Henry] Henry is going to channel his inner Joey Drew and round the corner and say "No, sorry about him, we're just here on inspection, we need to check the safe." [Henry] Which is probably a Fast Talk, which I hope it isn't, because my Fast Talk is a 5. [GM] Unless you wanna try to turn that into a persuade somehow? [Henry] I'll do Persuade! [GM] What are you doing to persuade them, rather than just lying? [Henry] *rolls* I failed... I'm gonna push it... [Sammy] *uneasy noises* IF YOU PUSH IT AND IT GOES BAD, IT GOES WORSE [Henry] AH! HAHA! I ROLLED A SIX! [Sammy] THAT'S STILL NOT LESS THAN FIVE! [Henry] WELL IM DOING PERSUADE! [Sammy] That means you have to NOT LIE! [Henry] ....Fuck. [Henry] Okay, uh, there's an emergency, we need the contents of that safe. [Sammy] THATS STILL A LIE??? [Joey] NO actually, THAT'S TRUE! [Henry] It IS an emergency!!

[Sammy] Sammy cannot believe that this is working.

[GM] Bendy does wonder what his plan is for getting out of the safe. This does not seem like a fun party place. [Joey] Um, [Joey] Joey says it's a surprise.

[GM] Henry, the safe does indeed open! And there's a Joey! [GM] Bendy says "Oh wow!" [Henry] Henry tries his best to keep a straight face, like yes! this is exactly what he came here for! [Sammy] (Sammy is NOT keeping a straight face) [Jack] (Straight? In this party?)

[Jack] He's probably saying something like, "What are you doing, he's one of us!" [Jack] And that could go either way. That could mean "No, he's chill, I will persuade you to stop!" Or that could mean, "We are also criminals!"

[GM, as the guards] Then why does he look like the Yellow King's messenger? [Henry] *not missing a beat* We get that a lot.

[GM] Something falls from the sky and lands in front of him. And it's a person! [Joey] Is he alive? [GM] Very much not. [Sammy] How... how Illusion of Living canon-compliant is this Joey...?

[Jack] So... it would probably occur to Jack that this is weird for a party,

[Henry] Joey don't touch it! [Joey] Why not? [Henry] There's runes around it. I don't know if you can touch it. [Joey] Joey's gonna touch it. [Henry] *long-suffering sigh* If you get zapped, I'll tell you I told you so!

[Jack] Jack really wishes we were just back at the party right now, you guys... [Jack] Only bad things have happened. [Jack] Pete's traumatised, Joey's goopy, the Lurker ate all of the snacks,

[Sammy] Can I try to break free from Henry? Sammy's gonna try to run over there. [Henry] At this point, Sam can go, if he wants. [Sammy] Okay, cool. Then Sammy's gonna go and put ink in his mouth! [Henry] Goddammit. I was hoping you were going to check on Joey!

[Joey] You can’t take all of the sanity hits! You have to leave some for other people! [Jack] Says you! You got so many temps!! And an indefinite!!

[GM] Bendy probably is complaining loudly about WHY DID HE WALK THROUGH THE RUNES??? [Joey] Oh! I thought he was going to complain about the party, or lack thereof, [GM] That’s part of not having fun at the party, he’s not into that! [Joey] Well, [GM] This is not a fun party activity!!

[GM] But he doesn’t think it will destroy either of them, if you do it right! [Jack] That’s a nice, way to end that sentence,

[Sammy] Let us hurry! May I take the stone? [Joey] Joey shrugs. [Sammy] Sammy will, uh, attempt to reach inside of... whatever this is, and find the stone. [Henry] Reach INTO your LOCAL boss, and you will find A Friend And Boy,

[Sammy] Is there anything in this room that I can pick up, and then hit him in the head with? [GM] Henry has a stick... uh....there’s a projector.... [Sammy] Can I pick that up? [GM] No, you cannot. [Sammy] It would be REALLY funny if Sammy dropped a projector on someone else’s head. [Sammy] HOW THE TURNTABLES!!!

[GM] ...Can you impale with a rocking horse...???? [Sammy] I don’t want to impale, I want to knock him in the head so he passes out!!! Rest your head, it’s time for bed!!!

[Jack] I don’t think Jack has any plans after this! [Jack] I meant that in the sense that he doesn’t know what he’s doing next, but the way I phrased it, now it just sounds like he’s hitting on Fowler, like, he doesn’t have anything to do after this, are you free? That’s not canon.

[Joey] I don’t know how this will go, [Sammy] Good luck! [Joey] But Joey would like to-- [Sammy] Sammy believes in half of you! [GM] w-which Sammy? wHICH HALF?!

[Jack] I know you said “note.” But my brain at first processed that word as “milk.” [Henry] *laughing* “Did you get my milk, Fowler?” [Jack] He drank the last carton and he didn’t buy more! [Sammy] “I’m going to the store, want me to get anything? *jumps into the lake*”

[GM] Combat Jack! [Jack] *exasperated* He’s not a Combat Boy! Jack is soft and warm, like mashed potatoes!!!

[GM] Norman is wondering to Henry if he oughta be concerned about you all getting what you want out of this. [Henry] .....Maybe.

#call of cthulu: haunted hijinx #joey drew #sammy lawrence #jack fain #when in doubt just keep drawing #tHE PERMASMILE IS MY FAVOURITE THING #we're getting close to end of scenario but boy howdy is everything getting [bass-boosted carmeldansen noises]

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novaiya · 3 years

Text

Imagine Arthur/Sean/Charles communicating with a non-English speaking immigrant reader.

Based on this request: can you write imagines for Arthur, Sean and Charles with a non-English speaking immigrant reader? If not that’s totally okay!! (Imagining the interactions that happen between them and the reader as they try to communicate would be funny ^^)

A/N: This was very fun to write, because at some point, I too was a non-english speaking immigrant. Language barrier sucks, but when you have people like Arthur, Charles or Sean, it sucks a little less lol I’m gonna be honest, as much fun as I had wiring this, I struggled a bit, especially with Arthur. If you look at Arthur’s interaction with people who don’t speak English… It seems like he has little to no patience with them lmfao

It was your third week with this group of people. It might’ve been fourth or maybe even fifth, but you couldn’t tell. All the days have blended into a one, long nightmare.

You have come to this country, the new world, in search of a better life, and instead, turned out worse than where you came from.

Thankfully, a group of people have picked you up, given you food and shelter and only asked for a small contribution in the form of basic housekeeping (more like camp keeping) in return. But even that was proving to be complicated, for you didn’t speak the language that the people did. You knew a few words before coming to America, basics like “Hello”, “Thank you”, “My name is…”, but nothing more. You were planning to continue your studies once you’ve arrived, but it seems like you'll have learn on the go. You were picking up some stuff here and there from the listening to camp members talk. You would attentively listen to the leader, Dutch was his name, and try to memorize the words he spoke. Plan, faith, and money would be common words in most of his speeches, and you’ve already learned their meanings.

Arthur.

You were taking a break, sitting on the edge of the camp and sketching on a piece of paper. You enjoyed drawing. It was a relaxing hobby, and it would remind you of your childhood, back when things were simpler.

“Hey there,” you heard from behind you. You turned around, seeing Arthur.

“Hello,” you said, your accent evident even in such a simple word.

“What you doing there,” he said as he took a seat next to you, looking at the scrap of paper in your hand.

You took a second to process what he just said. You heard the word “what”, and thought that maybe he was asking what you were doing. You didn’t know how to say you were drawing in english, so you simply showed him the sketch you were working on, pointing at it with your pencil.

“Ah,” Arthur exclaimed, understanding you. “You’re drawing.”

You tilted your head, not understanding what he’s saying.

“Drawing,” he repeated. He used his hand to pretend like he’s drawing. “You,” he said pointing at you, “draw.”

“Draw,” you repeated, looking at his hands then at a scrap of paper on your own. “I am drawing.”

“There you go.”

You smiled when you understood. Even a single word was a victory for you. The sooner you knew the language, the sooner you could get back on your feet.

“I draw too sometimes,” he said.

You turned to look at him.

He shuffled a bit, reaching into his satchel and pulling out a notebook. He skimmed through a few pages before showing you one of them. There, you saw a drawing of a horse. Your own sketch, in comparison to his, looked like chicken scratches.

“You draw very good,” you said.

A small smiled tugged at Arthur’s lips and he said, “thank you”

You nodded your head with a smile on your lips mirroring his. It was nice to have conversations. Due to the language barrier between you and the rest of the camp members, it was hard to make any significant connections. Most of your conversations only went as far as “thank you” or “good morning”. Arthur, however, has been one of the only people trying to bridge the gap between you and the rest of the gang. He would often start talking to you as if the language wasn’t a problem, and if you didn’t understand something, he would try to explain with simpler terms, using his hands or pointing at things, like he did just now when explaining drawing to you.

“I know a place not far from here,” Arthur spoke up, pulling you out of your thoughts, “Lot’s of animals roam there; horses, deers. I can take you there and you can draw them. If you want to, that is.”

You took a moment to understand what he meant. You basically understood every word he said, but was having a hard time of putting them together to understand the meaning behind them.

“You and I go draw together?” you said.

Arthur chuckled a bit. It was not exactly what he meant, but it was close enough. Maybe he could use that opportunity to get to know you better, as much as the language barrier would allow.

“Sure, we can do that too.”

Charles

You were walking along the outskirts of the camp, taking a break from your chores to enjoy the nature around you. You could hear the birds sing from every tree, and as you went further into the forest, squirrels and rabbits would run around, not paying any attention to you.

When a bunny stopped almost in front of you, you smiled. You squatted down, almost eye level with the creature.

“I think he likes you,” you heard from behind you.

You turned around, seeing Charles approaching you. You smiled at him, before turning back to the bunny, who was still unfazed by your or Charle’s presence.

Charles crouched right next to you, studying the peculiar bunny like you did. He extended his hand, letting the bunny sniff it. You decided to try too, and let out a small laugh when bunny sniffed your hand as well, looking at you and then at Charles.

“He is very nice,” you said with a smile.

Charles nodded. “They can feel your intentions. He probably knows you’re not going to harm him.”

You nodded. You didn’t understand a word he said, but you still made a face as if you did. You wondered what the english word for bunny was.

“What is his name?” you said looking at Charles.

He smiled at your question. Since you’ve joined the gang, Charles admired your strength and work ethic. Even without knowing the language and barely being able to communicate with the rest of the people, you were a productive member of the camp, and have been working hard on learning the language.

He was one the first people that you talked to, and since then you would often go to him when you needed help understanding something. He was very approachable and always patient when it came to your language barrier.

“Bunny,” he replied.

“Bunny.” Your face was so serious when you tried to pronounce the word, Charles laughed a little bit.

“You got it,” he said. “Just gotta practice and it’ll sound perfect.”

“Thank you.”

Somehow, you ended up spending almost half an hour with Charles, studying all the different animals around, learning their names and a few other English words.

“Thank you very much, Charles,” you said when you finally made it back to camp.

“It’s no problem,” he said. “If you ever wanna learn anything else, you just let me know.” He winked at you before going to his tent.

You didn’t understand a word he said, but didn’t need to. That wink said all you needed to know.

Sean

It was nighttime, and most of the camp members were either getting ready for bed or gathering around the campfire, swapping stories and drinks. Due to the language barrier, you usually skipped those events; you couldn’t understand a single word they were saying and it made you feel out of place. Instead, you preferred to spend your evenings at a small table a little way from the campfire with a children’s book in your hand. You got the book from Abigail, who in turn got it from Hosea for Jack. She would lend it to you at the end of the day, after Jack has finished his lessons with Hosea, so you could learn too.

“What you doin’ here all alone?” you heard a voice say behind you.

You turned around, seeing Sean approaching you.

“Reading,” you said, showing him the book in your hand.

“Oh, that,” he said, taking a seat next to you. “I never understood the appeal of readin’. It’s ploddin’.”

“Plod-ding?” you repeated, tilting your head to the side.

“Well, you know, slow. I prefer to use my time in other ways, stealin’ or robbin’ for example.” Even though his voice sounded uplifting, you could see a hint of sadness in it. The smile that he was trying to put on didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“You don’t read?” you said.

Sean took a moment before answering your question, shifting a bit in his chair.

“No, not really,” he said. “Me pa never taught me, and after he died I didn’t really have the time.”

You nodded your head, understanding what he said.

Sean wouldn't let anyone know it, but he was really insecure about his literacy. It’s not often that he needed to read something, but when he did, he was embarrassed that he couldn’t. So instead, he decided to own it, act like he didn’t care and that it was his decision not to learn. Lenny had been trying to teach him for a while then, but it didn’t go anywhere. Everytime Sean would get stuck on a word, or his progress would stagnate, he would get irritated and give up.

“Do you want learn?” you said.

Your words pulled him out of his thoughts. “You mean, learn to read?”

“Yes,” you said. “I read everyday. This kids book. We can read together.”

Sean’s immediate thought was to decline. He’d tried and failed so many times, at this point he didn’t believe he would ever be able to learn. But, something about seeing you, a person who barely spoke a word of English, a stranger in a strange land, trying your hardest despite everything, inspired him. What’s stopping him from doing the same?

“You know what,” he said. “I think that’s a great idea. Let’s meet here tomorrow mornin’. Maybe ol’ Lenny will join us too.”

#arthur morgan x reader #charles smith x reader #sean macguire x reader #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 x reader #arthur morgan x y/n #charles smith x y/n #sean macguire x y/n #rdr2 fanfiction #red dead redemption fanfiction #red dead redemption 2 fanfiction #red dead redemption 2 fanfic #rdr2 fanfics

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neverdoingmuch · 3 years

Note

Wait cql lawyer/law school AU

i got you my pal dont worry!!

law school, im gonna be honest and say i know like nothing about law or law school so pls ignore any inconsistencies or inaccuracies

lwj goes to law school and he is definitely the top student in his class. they’ve been there for like a month and everyone already knows he’s gonna be the best

his one and only competition is this dude called wei wuxian but lwj isn’t particularly worried about him

so far they’re still in the stage of the course where they do the fun things to sucker people into doing the class for the semester so there’s been some practise debates and arguments and stuff in their tutorial classes

wei wuxian has that Charisma and like yeah all of his arguments are perfect but also he has an amazing smile and people are like yes i can trust him

(he’s definitely the sort to be like hm, the easy way to argue this case would be to quote some laws and use precedence to justify this but that’s boring)

lwj is also good at that sort of stuff because his arguments are perfect and everything is so perfectly researched that there should be no ground at all for someone to lodge a counterargument

(wei wuxian manages somehow and it makes lwj so mad)

but that’s whatever lwj thinks,, a lot of people join law thinking it’s gonna be like the tv shows and books and then get completely blindsided when it comes to the rote learning part or like the actual laws

and for all of wwx’s confidence, lwj hasn’t actually seen wwx so much as touch the textbook/s and he always studies in the law library so he knows that wwx has probably never even been there bc he hasn’t seen him even once (why’s he looking? bc he needs to see which books wwx uses to study,, bc there has to be something going on there,, obviously)

then they do their first like proper written assignment and lwj and wwx tie for the highest scores and now lwj has a Rival and he refuses to lose to someone who thinks that putting a ‘-us’ sound at the end of a word makes it latin (did wwx say habeas corpus and then point at a soft drink and go sprite-us can-us,,, maybe,,,,)

anyway! lwj and wwx are kinda rivals for the top spot and it’s one of those situations where one test lwj wins by a point but then the next test wwx gets full marks and they just keep exchanging the top spot in class

and this whole time wwx is like The Worst to have in class. he’s always interrupting to ask questions or just straight up not listening and spends the class doodling pictures of rabbits (they’re cute but wwx is terrible and he’s not allowed to make cute drawings)

so after a few months the most horrible thing happens.... they get put together in a project and lwj is like ugh. internally of course but his face is also saying ugh

the first time wwx and lwj get together to work on the project, lwj is prepared with a proper list of tasks to do all nicely split up between the two of them and a schedule for when they should get certain parts done by.

needless to say, lwj does not expect wwx to be ready, but wwx is definitely on top of things

he rocks up and is like yeah let’s do this, this and this and have them done by this time - basically proposing to do everything that lwj has already written down

and lwj is pleasantly surprised and is like hm maybe i misjudged wwx and decides to like re-evaluate his opinion on him

in doing so he realises that when he’d never seen wwx studying, it wasn’t an exaggeration at all. he’s never seen wwx so much as touch a textbook or spend more than a minute on a laptop doing something that wasn’t minesweeper or solitaire

but wwx is also making all of their deadlines and even adds extra information and resources to their document that could be useful elsewhere and sometimes he shows up to their study sessions and he looks absolutely exhausted

eventually lwj manages to get the truth out and wwx is just like yeah it’s easier to get worse grades than a genius but if you both study and you still get lower grades, it’s not easy,, for jc or for me

so wwx usually studies at night when his brother is asleep and lwj is like that’s bad, you can’t keep that up and just when wwx is about to go off at him lwj is like you can come study at my place

and thus begins the wonderful time where everything is alright and lwj falls in love with wwx

they work really well together and wwx is strangely considerate and nice? when he finds out lwj likes rabbits, he goes out and buys bunny post-it notes for lwj and starts to always bring him a doodle of bunnies every time he comes over. he always gets his work done on time, early even, and his work is always so brilliant and every time wwx smiles at him, lwj feels warm inside etc etc

for a long while lwj is like yes (: this is friendship (: bc he’s never had a crush before but then on the day they submit their project wwx is like hey,, the two of us make a great team,, we should always work together,, now and next year and even when we graduate,, i want to help the innocent people who need our help and i think i’d like it a lot if you joined me and lwj has his oh moment

they get a perfect score on the project of course and even after it finishes, wwx keeps coming over to lwj’s place to study or just hang out and lwj is just falling more and more for wwx each day

they’re best friends now and everyone gets used to seeing them work together on projects and then turn around to try and decimate each other when they’re working one on one and lwj thinks that he might just be the happiest he’s ever been

but then one day wwx doesn’t show up to class. it shouldn’t be strange but wwx has never missed class even once and he ends up hearing from lxc who heard from jgy that wwx was caught sabotaging some other student’s work (the other student was jzxun, who had a fondness for playing devil’s advocate and other than wwx once telling him that his argument was shit, wwx never spoke to him or seemed to know who he was but lwj is a bit too angry to remember that)

he manages to find wwx outside of his dorms as he’s moving out and he’s just like why did you do that? and wwx is like oh y’know,, bc he’s not really sure what’s happening himself,, one second he was at the top of his class and the next he was being brought before a board and being told that he was being expelled but he’s not going to tell lwj that bc lwj would definitely try and stand up for him and then they’d both get expelled

but lwj is furious and just spits out well if our dreams meant so little to you then maybe it’s a good thing you failed now,, bc his mother was a lawyer who took all these little jobs that helped people who actually needed the help and lwj was looking forward to doing that with wwx and he doesn’t even seem to care that now they can’t do that

wwx flinches and then smiles at him and just cheerily says, that’s me and leaves. he doesn’t look back and lwj doesn’t chase after him.

lwj doesn’t see him again for years (you can do 13 or 5 or however long you feel like)

lwj is a fully licensed lawyer and he’s working for the family company and he spends half of his time working on cases and uses the rest of his time to do like outreach programs where he goes and visits schools and runs sessions on what it’s like to be a lawyer, how to apply, and to provide assistance to any students who decide to study law at uni

and then at one of these programs he meets this kid, wen yuan, who is ridiculously bright and enthusiastic and has a smile that seems oddly familiar

at the end of the second session he comes up to lwj and is like mr. lan, is your name lan wangji? and lwj just says yes, expecting the kid to be a fan of one of his cases or something but then wen yuan is like oh wow! i thought i recognised you from my dad’s photo!

and lwj isn’t expecting much but he asks what the photo looks like and wen yuan pulls out this photo from his pocket and lwj immediately recognises it,, it’s the only photo he has of him and wwx

your father is wei ying? lwj asks him and wen yuan is like yes, hesitates, and then asks, would you like to see him?

and that’s how lwj finds himself following wen yuan to some dinky little office that has a plaque outside that reads wen and wei

(wen ning is the nicest and sweetest person ever and lots of people underestimate him but then he’s an absolute monster on court. he gets up and completely decimates the opponent and then at the end is like (: it was so nice to meet you!! i am baby!! and all that,, you know our boy)

anyway they walk in and wwx turns to greet wen yuan but then he sees lwj and is like woah! you! and he’s not sure whether to hide or go and hug lwj so he just gives him a fist bump,, like a bro,, and immediately wants to shrivel up and die

anyway they get the reunion stuff out of the way, swelling music, tender wrist holding, lots of staring, lwj silently declaring his wholehearted love for wwx and refusing to believe rumours about him again even though he doesn’t actually know what happened, you know how it goes

from wwx’s side of things,, after he got kicked out he went to some small uni. good in its own right but not known for their law program and ended up specialising in family law

the first case he ever won was for the wens to have the right to keep custody of a-yuan and the first case wen ning ever won was to let wwx adopt a-yuan bc i’m soft like that

so wwx has just been kinda vibing,, being a single dad, living with the wens and helping to make that difference he always promised he would

now this isn’t gonna be some au where lwj goes oh my! i must give up my high salary job and work with wwx! bc lwj has been doing good stuff at his current job and for all of his family’s stuffiness, they run a fair and just company

but! he does end up helping wwx when wwx gets a letter with a bunch of information about the jins and how they’re actually super corrupt and evil (big surprise,,) and how wwx was maybe definitely framed bc he was doing some casual work on the side and stumbled across some bad shit on the jins back in uni

lwj ends up being the one to take the case officially but wwx is definitely the guy leading it and so lwj ends up spending most of his time at the wen-wei office

lwj definitely bonds with wen yuan, who also wants to go into law, and writes him recommendation letters and helps him edit his applications and stuff

(and one day wen yuan is like leaving you was the hardest thing dad ever did and i dont think you appreciated how much he cared about you. he really did think that he annoyed you ‘til the end and lwj is like no! he didn’t! and wen yuan is like yeah i know but you gotta tell him and lwj really does mean to but the time is never right or something like that but also wen yuan is all but calling lwj dad at this point)

anyway they end up going to court, side by side, working as a team just as they promised to do and just as they finish their final day on the case, ended with the jury ruling jgy guilty and wwx’s reputation all but saved, wwx turns around and flings himself at lwj

is he crying? is he laughing? a bit of both tbh but wwx ends up confessing right then and there, still on record and everything (is that how that works??? idk! let’s say it does)

and what can lwj do but make out with him?

did a news crew come in to film the results of this massive court case just to end up with five minutes of wangxian kissing?? maybe! but when it played on tv it meant wwx and lwj didnt have to actually tell anyone they got together

(and does lwj eventually pop the question using wwx’s bad latinification? yes and wwx is too busy laughing to accept at first but he does and they end up being the worst possible tutors for wen yuan as he goes through law school bc they keep being all gross and lovey-dovey and acting like law school is the most romantic place in the world)

#mdzs #Anonymous #modao zushi #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #cql #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #all of my understanding of law comes from the pelican brief which i read over 10 years ago and one seminar on law courses at uni #so sorry if it's bad #):#lan sizhui #also i stand by wen yuan #let him keep his last name!#my aus #asks

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prurientpuddlejumper · 3 years

Text

Don’t Look! [Part 4]

<- Part 3 | Part 5 ->

Frederick Chilton x Reader

@we-are-all-just-a-bit-crazy’s lovecraftian horror AU, with a bit of my own twist on the origin story. Emotional hurt/comfort. Body horror. Hugging your body-horror monster boyfriend.

3,386 words

Once upon a time, there lived a man who had everything: great wealth (built on the backs of exploited workers), a grand estate, a beautiful wife, and many mistresses waiting in the wings. Yet after years of trying, he failed to produce an heir. Determined that his money could buy anything, the man scoured the world, searching for a solution. One day, his extensive resources brought him to an ancient castle in Lithuania, where the last descendants of a noble bloodline offered him a devil’s bargain—a book, a summoning ritual. He did not ask questions. His wife was finally with child.

The Chilton legacy was secure.

The moment Frederick was born, the life was sucked from his mother—a human sacrifice for his soul crossing into this world. That was what his father told him, at least. Frederick had no memory of clawing his way through the veil between worlds, of being anything other than an ordinary child with a distant father, a young, blonde stepmother, and nannies instead of friends. Until the changes began. Allison (or was it Kayla at the time?) fainted in the living room when he staggered in, screaming as smoke boiled from his skin, begging for help. His father only wrinkled his nose with disgust and calmly explained what he was.

“You must learn to hide this, Frederick. Never let anyone see you this way, or it will destroy the family name.”

And so, he learned the transformation’s schedule. Prepared for it. Knew how to hide it away and never let anyone get close enough to see the real him. But it wasn’t good enough. Try as he might, nothing Frederick ever did met his father’s expectations for the perfect son he had gone through so much trouble to produce.

Frederick grew into a bitter and lonely man with no one to care about, or who cared about him. He kept the world at a distance, hiding his shame behind expensive suits and lavish decoration.

Never once did he consider that he was not alone in this world at all.

***

I see him as one of those pitiful things sometimes born in hospitals. They feed it, keep it warm, but they don’t put it on the machines. They let it die. But he doesn’t die. He looks normal. Nobody can tell what he is.

This is how Will Graham describes the Chesapeake Ripper.

Every therapy session with Graham, every conversation overhead, the puzzle became clearer. At first, Chilton merely believed that Dr. Lecter was guilty of unethical practices—manipulating Mr. Graham in the same way he had manipulated Gideon. He felt such kinship with Hannibal. Learning a bit of dirt on him brought the ever-so-superior doctor down to his level, gave him something to lord over him—a little implied blackmail to strengthen their friendship.

They both had secrets to hide.

Dr. Chilton never would have guessed the final puzzle piece to convince him fully that Hannibal was the Chesapeake Ripper would be the one everyone else laughed at.

“I brought you here to bear witness,” Graham said to Gideon through their adjoining cells.

“To tell Jack Crawford that I sat in Hannibal Lecter’s cobalt blue dining room? An ostentatious herb garden, Leda and the Swan over the fireplace. And you, having a fit in the corner.”

Chilton perked up and quickly shared the audio feed to one of the junior therapists assisting him. You were reliable at editing his audio files, clipping and exporting segments he wanted to keep, but he was avoiding you at the moment. This was proof—irrefutable proof that Gideon had met Hannibal Lecter the night he went searching for the Ripper.

After his conversation with Graham concluded, an assistant was sent down to coax more information from him while Chilton’s research team listened in, keenly taking notes.

Gideon was not finished dropping bombshells.

With a casual lilt to his voice as if talking to a friend over dinner, he began to describe the Chesapeake Ripper. Skin like volcanic ash, reflecting no light. A red glow to his eyes. Black claws as long as steak knives. Antlers breaking through the inside of his skull, punching through the skin. All black as night—a form that shifted in the shadows, ever tricking the eye, unwilling to be known.

He’s the Devil, Mr. Graham. He’s smoke.

“Great. Gideon is delusional,” one therapist snorted. “On the bright side, this completely undercuts his malpractice case against you.” She patted Chilton’s shoulder. Chilton flinched.

“We should start him on antipsychotics. What do you think? Doctor?”

Chilton’s face turned ashen white. “Y-yes, certainly,” he muttered, staggering to his feet.

He moved for the door, but crumbled halfway there, pain ripping through his leg as sharp thorns grew beneath the skin. It was daylight. No. No! The transformation should not be starting for hours—he had plenty of time! He gasped out as another shock tore through him, barely containing a cry. His body convulsed.

“Doctor!” A therapist and a guard rushed in to help him to his feet. “Where does it hurt? If this is a complication from your surgery, we need to get you into intensive care right away.”

“No,” he brushed them off. “Only… psychosomatic. I need to— ah!” He gritted his teeth, mind racing to the one person he did not want to turn to, but the only one he could, and barked, “Get my secretary!”

***

Smoke was rising off of his burning skin by the time you rushed into Chilton’s vacated office. His eyes were wide with panic, but greeted you when you entered with—not relief, perhaps, because he was every bit as terrified as before, but with the anticipation of being rescued. His eyes pleaded.

“H-help. I cannot make it stop.”

You managed to get him into your car. The sun’s orange rays seemed to chase the beast away, clearing his skin and stopping his wracking convulsions long enough to cross the employee parking lot without drawing stares. He insisted on taking the back seat so he could hide—and to put more distance between you in case he lost control.

His chest rose and fell like a rabbit in a cat’s mouth.

“The way he described Dr. Lecter—anyone would think it was a metaphor! That he was crazy!” Chilton’s breath was raspy as you drove, glancing back at him through the rearview mirror. He kept trembling, small patches of scaly skin appearing at random then swirling back inside. One pupil was a pinprick. His tongue occasionally became serpentine and got in the way as he frantically spoke. “But it was too specific, the details. Familiar. I always knew there was a connection between Dr. Lecter and me—a reason we were friends. It all makes sense now!”

“Hey, it’s OK,” you said, trying to sound soothing, though you had no idea what he was talking about.

“Don’t you understand? Lecter is like me!”

“That’s good, isn’t it? That means you’re not alone.”

“Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper!” he shouted, and a spine tore through a seat cushion. “A cannibal, if Will Graham is to be believed, and loathe as I am to admit it, Graham is an excellent profiler. If the Ripper and I are the same… then that means I—”

“You are nothing like that!” Forgetting the damage his demonic tantrum was doing to your faux-leather interior, you had faith in him. He was a little withdrawn and more than a little vain, and it had garnered him an icy reputation around the hospital, but now you understood why. He wasn’t evil or malicious. He was frightened.

“God help me,” he murmured.

***

As soon as the garage door closed behind you, he scrambled from the car (scratching the handle), and retreated inside. He didn’t invite you to follow him home. But he didn’t forbid it, either, and you wanted to be there. All you had were panic-scrambled memories from the first time that made his transformation worse in hindsight than it was. Or maybe better. You didn’t know, and you wouldn’t know until you saw it again with clear eyes.

The electric kettle rumbled on its stand, hissing steam as you searched through Frederick Chilton’s surprisingly extensive tea collection for something herbal and soothing. Chamomile, you thought. With honey. Surely that must be good for demon-monster-werewolf things?

The sun was about to set and he was still reeling over Hannibal, and just as much from the premature transformation the revelation had triggered. And every time he cried, “This is not possible. How can this be possible?” the next convulsion was more intense.

He would probably just burn himself on tea.

A painful whimper came from somewhere in the house, and you followed it to a tiny panic room that opened behind a bookshelf. It was only about seven by nine feet with concrete walls and floors, bare except for deep scratches of varying age, like an animal trying to escape. The few chairs inside were metal. Difficult to break. Frederick faced away from you, staring at a hand that was too large for the rest of his body, capped with long black claws.

“Oh no, this will not do at all,” you tutted, shaking your head at the barren space. “How about I bring in some blankets? Let’s get you comfortable.”

His whole body shook. “You should go.”

“No. No way, not after seeing this prison cell. I am not leaving you like this.”

“I do not want to hurt you.” His shoulder jerked. A spike tore through his shirt.

“You won’t.”

“Seeing it again… will not be therapeutic for you,” he hissed, another spike breaking through. “Go before it is too late.”

“No!”

“Damn it! I am a monster—there is proof of that now! The FBI has no idea what it is dealing with!” Chilton began to pace the small cell, thoughts racing, features morphing into something grotesque and alien. “Does Hannibal know about me? Can he sense it? Is that why he confided in me? I always thought it was professional respect—hah! God, what if he…” A painful convulsion halted his pacing and brought him to one knee, gripping his side. His attention snapped back to you. “This is… dangerous,” he warned, then hacked violently. Fleshy, snake-like projections spewed from his mouth, and he quickly turned away again, hiding his face. “You should… you should be nowhere near all of this! You should not be here! Why did I let you inside?!”

A roar of anguish ripped through the air with enough force to push you back through the panic room door, just in time to avoid being impaled on half a dozen spines as they shot from Chilton’s body like lances. Chips of concrete clattered to the ground as they penetrated the walls. He screamed again, writhing to get free, but found himself trapped by his own violent transformation. Like an animal, he struggled and clawed at himself as if his rational mind had been overtaken by raw, volatile emotion.

“Take it easy. You’re going to hurt yourself,” you tried to calm him, but you couldn’t stop your voice from shaking.

This was worse than last time. You were sure his spines weren’t half as long when you saw him in his office—even Chilton seemed surprised to be pinned.

You lifted your hands, palms toward him in a steadying gesture, and took a step back into the concrete room.

“Stay back!” he howled, thrashing. “Get away!”

It was tempting. Every muscle in your body wanted to follow his advice and run far away from the indescribable horror before you. But his eyes were still green. Were still terrified. And you had an inkling of why it was worse this time. Maybe he would hate you later for imposing, but it seemed more important right now not to leave him feeling… like a monster.

“It’s OK.” You took another step closer.

“No!”

“You’re not going to hurt me. I trust you. Shh, shh… I’m not afraid, see?”

Rigid spines sprayed from his back and shoulders in a 180-degree arc, leaving only his front accessible. You ducked under one and followed its trajectory to where it met the wall. It wasn’t just pinned by pressure—it had struck the wall with enough force to dig into it like an iron rod. Sawing through might be the only option for getting him unstuck. You wondered if that would hurt. Were there nerves in his spines? You stepped over the next one as you drew nearer.

“You should be afraid! I am just like him!” Chilton tried to turn his head away as you traversed his network of thorns and stood in front of him.

His face was almost entirely inhuman. Tentacles cascaded down from where a nose should have been, and when he opened his mouth in a snarl, they parted like wriggling eels—each with a life of its own—to reveal a jaw that split his face open vertically, crowded with rows of sharp white teeth. The more agitated Chilton became, the more dramatic the effect. Each time he spoke, you caught a flash of teeth that sent shivers racing down your spine. But you continued to move closer anyway, within snapping range.

“Hannibal and I… we are the same. Please—I do not want to become him. Do not let me hurt you!”

“You are not the same. You’re not a killer.”

Chilton let out a choking cry that was all too human. “I killed that nurse,” he said. Concrete groaned as his spines grew longer. A crooked horn sprouted from his head. “I killed Elizabeth Shell.”

“You… you didn’t kill her.”

His breath quickened again. Tentacles sprouted and died and resprouted from his face in a constant fevered motion. “I knew Gideon would kill! I lowered security! I knew what would happen—what I needed to happen to prove that he was the Ripper! I may as well have plucked her eyes out with my own hands and… and feasted on her organs. God… I am the Ripper,” he wailed.

“No…” It never occurred to you that Dr. Chilton would have done such a thing knowingly. Maybe there was something dark inside him that this creature was reflecting. It hurt to acknowledge, and yet maybe you both needed to. “You made a mistake. You did a bad thing, but… Gideon was already a killer. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I drove him to it, manipulated him… I am just as responsible as he is. I am a monster.”

“A monster wouldn’t feel this guilty! You made a mistake, but you won’t make it again, will you?”

Tentacles and spines stopped sprouting. His form stabilized as his wet eyes looked off thoughtfully. He seemed so pathetic… so innocent, almost. Despite the intimating spines and claws that added danger and height to his appearance, his body had the same mass—leaving his frame gaunt and frail, with ribs sticking out prominently. Hollow.

You wanted to protect him.

You knew that was your job at BSHCI. You knew that was why Dr. Chilton suddenly needed a personal secretary when he never had before. Someone to sit outside his door, take his calls, and warn him when visitors wanted to see him. You’d never met the doctor before he was attacked by one of his patients, but you recognized the signs of trauma—the way he flinched easily, avoided contact at first, then the way he clung to you when you earned his trust. The awkward little smiles. The way his cheeks turned bright red when his fingers brushed yours as you delivered his coffee. You couldn’t help feeling protective. Falling in love, even.

Though it was closed for the moment, his mouth was a dangerous black hole with alien arms ready to pull prey inside. It seemed impossible to get close without being dragged into its teeth by instinct. You couldn’t imagine putting your face anywhere near it.

Another step, and your forehead touched his.

“I... I do not want to hurt you,” he pleaded.

“You won’t.”

You leaned into his arms, a hand reaching up to stroke the side of his face. It was covered in fine scales that glistened as if they should be slimy, but were smooth to the touch, like a snake. Sharper thorns sprouting from his skin seemed to retreat before your caress.

He trembled with inner turmoil, hot breath puffing against your chin. Your eyes darted toward the motion of one of his claws rising behind you, and all you could focus on were the way each sharp talon caught the light. You couldn’t be sure what he was thinking—if he was going to return your embrace, or prove to you that he was a monster. Would he slash you just to drive you away?

“I smell your fear,” his voice hissed accusingly.

For some reason, of all the reactions you could have had, you started to laugh. It was nervous and tight at first, but then building in confidence at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“You’ve got giant claws! Of course I’m afraid! But I’m not running, am I?”

You slid your hand from his cheek and trailed it over his bony neck and the ridges and spines of his shoulders, finding a path for your arms to twine around him. Cuddling closer, you nuzzled into the crook of his neck, hardly bothered by the writhing tentacles that draped down over you.

“I know you would never hurt me. You’re just going to have to keep showing me there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Shuddering, he breathed in your scent. All his senses were heightened by this form, and he was surrounded by you—your pheromones, your electric field, the radiant heat of your skin. It was like sinking into a warm bath with a glass of fine wine in his hand. He opened his palm and let his predator’s hand sweep harmlessly down your back, holding you close. He could sense the fluttering of your heart in his embrace. It was slower than a creature in terror—slowing the longer he held you. You were not afraid. And he could not imagine hurting you. Whatever he had been worried might happen, whatever awful things he might be capable of, he could never imagine hurting you. You were right. You didn’t have anything to fear.

He exhaled a long, steady breath of surrender. The long spines retracted, pulling out of the walls as they returned to their usual size. He could move again, but didn’t. Not for a long time.

“It’s OK. It’s OK,” you sighed. The scent of your hair was intoxicating.

Eventually, you had to part. Chilton’s eyes darted away as you did—the inky scales on his face emitted a soft bluish starlight, which you were certain was blushing. You could not coax him to leave his concrete prison cell, but he told you where to find some blankets he could live with damaging—linen closet, second floor, third door on the right—and let you make a cozy nest on the bare floors. You made tea, and only cringed a little at his attempts to drink it. It was late, then. You were sleepy, and he was exhausted. Emotionally drained. His mind still raced over everything, still not certain of your presence and inexplicable kindness. You sat in the pile of blankets and had him rest his head in your lap.

“Give me your hand,” you asked, extending yours.

A clawed, scaly hand slid tentatively along the floor. You took it. Held it gently, first observing the long talons protruding like daggers from each finger before slotting yours between them—nothing sharp there. You let out a long sigh and leaned back against the concrete wall. His breath hitched.

He’d never had his hand held in this form, you assumed.

He’d never had his hand held at all, in fact. Not in many years.

It had to be a trap, he thought. No one had ever loved him before. No one could—not like this. Yet, as he fell asleep to your fingers massaging his temple and the soft murmuring of your voice, he let himself believe it. You were always there, protecting him. Smiling at him in the morning.

When you woke up, Frederick was human again, still fast asleep in your arms.

#Frederick Chilton x reader #my writing

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ffangirlingsince2001 · 4 years

Text

Nothing Alike: I

Description: Geralt of Rivia has been tasked with taking out a fellow Witcher who has decided to settle down in a town. She has no intention of leaving and Geralt is forced to take matters into his own hands.

Geralt x Reader

Warnings: (future as well as present) violence, angst, smut, fluff, language

A/N: Hello and thank you for choosing to read Nothing Alike. If you read my last series with Geralt you know that things can get pretty dark, but for the most part (at least right now) this story is going to be a bit more light hearted.

Masterlist

He prayed the rumors weren’t true.

He prayed that the dreaded letter he had received was nothing more than hyperbolic ramblings of the townsfolk.

He prayed that he wouldn’t have to raise his sword at all.

He just wanted to sleep, to be free of monsters for just a few days, to lay beneath the stars beside his horse while a fire cooked a rabbit he had caught and he dozed to the sound of crickets in the trees. That’s all he really wanted, and yet he was marching through the woods towards another town that had requested his presence. The sun was warm, filling the air with the rich scents of heated forest. It caressed his neck and shoulders, as if lulling him into the sleep he so desperately craved.

It had been a long time since he had been to the town that summoned him. When he had first been released back into the wild as a Witcher. 200 years ago, and it was still the dirtiest town he had ever seen. The moment he stepped inside he felt as if an extra layer of grime had been added to everything he owned. The air was thick and clogged and the windows were all shuttered closed, but strangest of all was the lack of people. The sun was still in high noon, yet there was no one. No one bustled to finish their shopping and no children played in the streets, it was like a ghost town. The only sound was the crows sitting on the rooftops and a very distance rumbling. He moved towards the center of the town, hoping the find an explanation for the silence.

And an explanation he received. Surrounding a bar was a mob of people, screaming and stopping their feet. That at least explained the rumbling, but it failed to explain why they were here, and what they were screaming about. He shoved his way through the crowd, knocking over the angry townspeople as he went.

“Hey, we don’t need another Witcher in this town to take our money,” an angry woman sneered at him, spitting on his shoes. He ignored her and continued forward, but her angry cry seemed to have alerted the crowd to his presence and pushing through the crowd was growing more difficult with each step. Finally, he made it to the center and found a crude fighting ring. Inside the ring was a cloud of dust and two people rolling around in the dirt.

One seemed much smaller than the other and he was unsure why such an unmatched fight had drawn such a crowd, until the bigger opponent let out a howl of pain. The smaller leapt away and then with a well-placed kick, knocked out a few teeth. Geralt dodged the molars and moved closer, trying to get a better look at the two opponents. Another few hits and the smaller was on top of the larger, a strong arm around his throat. The larger staggered backwards, slamming his opponent into the wall but they didn’t budge, only squeezing tighter until he tumbled to the ground, face blue.

“Tap out,” came the cry and without hesitation he did so. The smaller opponent climbed off and the crowd booed, clearly not in favor of the winner. The winner did not seem to care as they bowed, their hair tumbling out to reveal a woman behind all that grime. She was grinning as she collected her gold from the unhappy townsfolk. Her eyes flashed across his and he stepped back, startled by the gold irises that mimicked his own.

She was a witcher like him, and here she was wasting her life by robbing people of their gold. She walked towards the bar, her bag of coins jingling like bells on a sleigh. He pushed through the crowd and followed her into the bar, stalking her towards the booth in the back corner that he would have chosen anyway if she had not been there first.

He sat down across from her, but she didn’t acknowledge him, instead counting the gold that she had collected while outside.

“The bastards cheated me,” she sighed before glancing up and smiling. “Do you need something?”

“You’re a witcher.”

“Ah yes, an observant fellow, so are you.”

“You’re taking advantage of these people. You know you’ll win, it’s not a fair fight.”

“Our whole lives are unfair.”

“We were not made for this, we were made to save-,”

“Save ourselves, survive. Darling, you owe them nothing. How old are you anyway, a couple hundred years?”

“A few,” he growled, and she laughed, sliding the gold back into her pouch.

“Makes sense, you older witchers are all about tradition.” He wanted to throw her against the wall, anger boiling in a deep pit of his stomach. Here she was insulting him, and she didn’t even have the decency to offer him her full attention. She was braiding her hair!

“And by that you mean?”

“You think you’re the first Witcher with a vendetta to come around here and try to end all my fun?” He did his best to not let a look of surprise pass over his face, but she caught it anyway. “Oh you did, well if it makes you feel any better you’re the politest. The others had no sense of conversation, just show up and try to drag me out of town or kill me. You’ve all ranted about the same thing though, tradition.”

“You are a disgrace to your school-,”

“The school I didn’t choose to attend you mean, or maybe I’m a disgrace to the Witcher who brought me in, who convinced my mother that him taking me away was for the best because she couldn’t afford to feed us. Maybe I’m a disgrace to my dear old mother, but she’s dead now and honestly I wouldn’t give a fuck even if she was alive.” She stood up and turned towards the door but Geralt caught her wrist, yanking her back into the booth.

“Leave this town or I will be forced to make you.”

“You won’t be the first to try, and you won’t be the last to fail. This town has been trying to get me out for months. No one can make me do anything I don’t want to do, that’s the only gift they gave me, power to get ride of invasive pricks like you. So why don’t you move on, Witcher,” she spat. She yanked away but he didn’t let go of her arm, tightening his grip with every moment. She rolled her eyes and pulled out a needle point dagger, driving it through his arm and into the table.

He growled like a tortured animal, grinding his teeth trying not to let her escape his grasp, but she slipped out and disappeared into the unhappy crowd. He yanked the blade from his arm and charged after her. He watched her long braid whip around the corner, towards the inn portion of pub.

The stairs creaked under his feet, crying for reprieve but nothing slowed him down. He was going to drag her out of this town if it killed him. A door slammed behind him and the young witcher was grinning at him from a shutterless window. She blew him a kiss and fell backwards, dropping out of view. He rushed to the ledge and with a sneer she pulled herself out of the hay in which she had landed and took off down the street. He jumped, not bothering to brush off the hay and taking off after her.

The streets were crowded again with merchants and buyers, now that there was no desperate fight to rid themselves of a witcher everyone could continue with their day and make Geralt’s life a little more difficult than it had to be. While the complained about her under their breath it almost seemed that they were protecting her, rolling carts into his way and sending chickens after him.

Throughout the chase, he never let her out of her sight, trying to study her on the run. He was big and strong, a clear advantage if it came to hand to hand combat but he could tell she was quick and clever. Darting in and out of the crowd, using magic to gently shift things out of her way. It was skilled magic, one that he had never seen such a young witcher use so well. She must have been one of the best at school, an idol to all those who desired to become the best. But she had also been rebellious, the scars that creeped above her neckline proved that. There was no anger in her eyes when she looked at him, only annoyance and small plea that he would just leave her alone. It was clear she had an idea about life that she could never achieve, but from the way she ran he was sure she would rather die than not try.

She darted into an alley and he followed/ When he finally came close, she was scaling the wall, punching handholds into the walls with very bloody fingers and moving faster than he would have expected. With the blunt edge of his sword he smacked the back of her knees, sending her tumbling to the ground.

From the ground she eyed his sword and backed away like a wild animal that had been cornered. He didn’t move while she stood, her back pressed against the stone wall. There was still no anger in her eyes, now, instead of annoyance, it was a wild look he had only found in rabid dogs.

“Not so tough now,” he taunted, drawing nearer, is sword prepared to defend whatever she threw at him. She barked a hoarse laugh and he watched as her fingers crept to her belt. There was no sword, only a small knife that would do nothing against his sword.

“They always said to go down fighting,” she replied and he shook his head.

“You don’t have to go down at all, just leave and you’ll never hear from me again.”

“Until I set up in another town and their lord calls for you to exterminate me, you don’t get your gold if I’m not dead. That’s why I had to kill them, every one he sent my way, because no will ever tell me what to do again.”

“What’s your name?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Just humor me.”

“Y/N.”

“I’m Geralt.”

“I don’t care who you are, only one of us is going to walk away from this, and if it’s me I couldn’t care less what the fuck your name is.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, we’re both going to walk away from this and you’re going to need to know my name,” he told her very calmly before swinging his sword and catching the side of her head with the blunt edge once more. Completely unconscious, she dropped to the ground, her knife tumbling from her hands.

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vulcanhugsclub · 3 years

Text

A Blizzard That Almost Caused Vulcan Pneumonia

Ship: AOS Spirk

Rating: G

A/N: This is a fluffy little short I wrote a long time ago and decided to publish on here so here ya go and enjoy!

----------

"I had warned you previous to the storm about the upcoming weather-"

"Spock, shut up shut up shut up!"

"Dammit, Jim! There's no need to shout!" Another voice said from across the room.

"Then why are you yelling!?"

"YOU BOTH ARE ACTING LIKE DOOFUSES THAT'S WHY!"

Uhura was rolling her eyes from where she sat at the counter, Chekov sipping hot cocoa with both hands next to her, and Sulu was just hyping them up. Then there was Scotty, sneaking more whiskey into his coffee and Ms. Chapel, who was trying(and failing) to make them stop fighting.

The truth was they all came over to celebrate Jim's new apartment but instead got snowed in.

This blizzard was worse than ever, and already there was a thick layer of snow on the ground.

"Human logic is so irrational. You knew about the weather, you preceded to hold this assembly and now you're angry about it?" Spock gave Jim one of his famous 'why u so stupid' looks.

"I'm soooooRRRY that I am not a logical piece of metal and didn't plan ahead!"

"That's what normal people do."

Jim swore Spock rolled his eyes, but maybe it was a trick of the light.

"Ok, yeah," Mccoy waved his hand in between the bickering pair. "Still here, guys!"

They both looked at him, one of them glaring(the other glaring less obviously).

"Thank you." He paused, wishing he were anywhere but with these dorks. "What's the plan?"

"Oh boys, will you knock it off?" Ms. Chapel nearly shouted. Even in anger, her voice was smooth and motherly, unlike the trio.

All three men turned to her, more in surprise but were interrupted by a large banging that echoed through the whole apartment. The electricity shuttered out, as it had been for the past hour, but this time it permanently flickered off.

"What was that?" Christine looked around wearily, as everyone was searching across the room for the problem.

Scotty was the first to move, walking to the thermostat. he pressed a few buttons, and with each second he became visibly more agitated. "It's not working. We've lost our heat."

Everyone murmured quietly, and thank god the lights were out because Spock grew very pale.

-----1 hour later------------------

"Scotty, how's the heat coming?" Kirk asked from one of the couches, holding a shivering figure curled into his side.

"It's doin' somethin'" Scotty sighed as he was pulling apart the wiring of the thermostat.

Other than the engineer, the gang had migrated to the living room, sitting close together near the fireplace. They were all fine, for the most part, just wearing their coats and seemed pretty comfortable chatting. It was still cold enough to see their breath as they talked and exhaled.

Ms. Chapel and the doctor were snuggling together on the other couch, whispering about something and giggling. The trio(Uhura, Chekov, Sulu) were all close like penguins. The crackling fire was the only source of light in the whole apartment, and thankfully Jim was retro because it wasn't electric.

The bundle pressed against Jim Kirk shifted under the thick white blanket until a head surfaced. Spock's nose was bright green, the tips of his ears flushed. He was trembling violently, not used to Earth's freezing temper.

"Alright, love?" Jim chuckled, massaging his thumb against Spock's back.

He could only nod as the blonde leaned down to kiss his forehead.

"Spock, you're freezing!" He gently pulled the Vulcan onto his lap, placing his hands on his hips to draw him closer. Jim had no problem with body heat.

He wasn't even wearing a coat.

Spock rested his head on the captain's shoulder, nuzzling his neck with his nose.

Jim almost hissed feeling his boyfriend's cold nose on his steaming neck, but instead placed his head on top of the little rabbit in his lap. He took a moment to admire how Spock could seem so tiny with this gigantic furry blanket.

Kirk didn't even mind that it felt like he was hugging an ice block.

They hadn't had a chance to address their dating rumors or disclose their relationship. Spock didn't want the crew to get any ideas about his 'emotional availability' as he put it.

"Vait, are you two a zing?" Chekov's voice brought him back to the dark living room.

The captain looked up to see everyone staring at them, some with wide eyes, some with 'I knew it' faces.

"That's where Spock went. I thought he was in the bathroom," Sulu said, and Uhura rolled her eyes again.

"Yes, he's been in the bathroom for 50 minutes."

"How long have you known?" Hikaru looked at her with narrowed eyes, even though he was grinning.

"3 months."

"Right," Kirk chuckled sheepishly, "We're relatively new." For two years. Better not tell them.

"Zat's vonderful!" Chekov smiled, his whole face lighting up. "I am so happy for you, keptin!"

"I canae believe it!" Scotty's head poked around the corner to the living room, vanishing again.

"Dammit, Jim!" Bones' voice came from the back of the room, even though he was smiling. "You're supposed to tell your best friend these kinds of things!"

Jim just enjoyed the way his friends reacted, smiling.

He couldn't ask for a better crew, let alone companions.

"Better?" Kirk redirected his attention back to Spock, looking down and seeing the first officer's eyes fluttering closed until he was sinking into a sound sleep. He could hear the tiniest and most adorable of snores coming from the Vulcan.

It took all of Jim's energy not to boop him.

The urge was too strong, and he pressed his nose gently against his boyfriend's. Spock 's eyes shot open and he inhaled deeply, addressing the room.

"Is there something wrong, captain?" He whispered, and everyone giggled in response.

Kirk leaned down, pressing his lips against one of the Vulcan's ears and whispered back, "I think it has to do with the fact that you are sleeping on my lap."

"Oh..." Jim took pleasure in seeing a slight blush reach Spock's cheeks. Then abruptly, the first officer grabbed the blanket and pulled it over his head, soon falling asleep against Kirk's chest once again. Now it just looked like there was a fluffy white mass in his arms, with no sign of the Vulcan other than slow breathing.

The gang ended up spending the whole night, and luckily for them, Jim had sleeping bags(because of course he did).

They all slept in the living room, after some argument about who would take the bed. Kirk and Spock cuddled up on one of the couches, Ms. Chapel and Mccoy on the other, Sulu, Chekov, Scotty, and Uhura in sleeping bags near the still-going fireplace. They were all asleep, leaving just the captain and the first officer.

"Do you think they mind...us...?" Spock asked after a while.

"It doesn't matter what they think," The blonde whispered back, tickled by Spock's hair against his nose. But that didn't seem to settle the Vulcan. "Why do you care what they think?"

"They are my friends, I value their opinion as much as I value yours."

"They are happy with us being happy."

Spock sighed and nuzzled against Jim, intertwining their fingers.

His voice was the last thing Kirk heard. "Goodnight, T'hy'la."

And the captain was washed away in a sleep so warm and cozy, it could have been summer.

#spirk #startrek #james t kirk #spock #bones mccoy #christine chapel #chekov #sulu #scotty #uhura #james t kirk/spock

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sunseteyes · 4 years

Text

THE RED ROSES IN WONDERLAND; T. KAMADO

theme/s: alice in wonderland & brave inspired. a beginning; where the child of the red king meets the one that is fated to bring peace in the land.

word count: 1,957 words

roze’s note: i suddenly wanted to write this as a multi-chapter but let’s see~ if my schedule permits it, why not? also, what do you think? should i really??

a sigh leaves your lips as your eyes glances over the same flowers every single day. yes, the flowers were indeed beautiful, but whenever you see the color red, you just can't help but feel that coiling of your stomach and the tightening in your throat.

everyone thinks you don't know of the blood that spills on your father's hands, but you do, and you're only pretending you don't.

just as you were about to turn back to the house, a figure catches your attention and you immediately recognized who it was.

"nosuke! you're back!" your mood brightened immediately at the only one whom you could call a friend in the whole land. despite being surrounded by lots of individuals and loyal subjects, your guard is still always up and you never full trusted all of them—except inosuke.

it was explainable though. he's the only one who is not entirely by your father's side but he can still manage to stay alive. as the record keeper of wonderland, inosuke the white rabbit is more like the neutral individual. he doesn't have a side to pick on and that's why you don't have a problem opening up to him at all.

"how was your travel to the other side? did you bring a souvenir for me?" you excitedly approached the boy and his ears twitched at the sound of your voice, his head turning around to face you with his beautiful face that you sometimes envy upon. he's probably the prettiest you'd ever seen in the whole land!—as if you'd seen everyone yet. you never got to get out much aside from the forest because your father insists that you must stay safe and not act hostile because you are a royal, the future ruler of the reds, after him.

you didn't want to adapt your father's way of ruling but you can't also say no to him. it's not that you were afraid but mostly because you love him too much to hurt him. he raised you with the outmost care and compassion he could give. the only thing you could give back to him is by abiding in his rules and obeying him by following his footsteps.

but you can't kill anyone either.

"huh? souvenir? i was there for work, you know! you can't just order me to do something when i've got other things to do." you smiled at inosuke's response. harsh as it may seem to others, you know it was his way of conversing to someone he doesn't particularly call his "minion". he can be a bit superior against others but it's what you admire most in your friend.

"wait, inosuke. i heard you brought someone from the other side. is that true?"

your question seemed to have made him tense for a second but it vanished as soon as it came. you realized then that it must have been the same question your father might have asked him that's why the rabbit was summoned there.

"you mean gonpachiro? he's not going to stay here for long. the portal will open a week after, there's no need to worry about the legend."

ah, so that's what it is, you thought.

there's a legend in wonderland that there will come a time that someone from "the other side" will come and give a path to peace between the white and the red, making the land as one as it can be. looking at it now, many have lost hope that the legend was not even often said anymore. yet, it is also a fear for others, especially the royals since peace will result to a singular leadeship.

it's either one will back down and give way so the other will rule all over wonderland, or one will have to fall in misery as the other rises in victory,

either way, you're sure your father will never like the idea of that unless he will be the ruler.

"i'm not worried about the legend." you say, looking up a inosuke's eyes. "i'm more worried about this gonpachiro you're talking about. you know how my father works."

inosuke's lips seals tight at your words. you have kept from everyone aside from inosuke about your knowledge of your father's dirty works but until now, inosuke seems bothered about it.

now you don't really socialize with the others in your household much and you usually keep your distant most of the time. one of the main reasons why was because of your father—he often tells you never to trust anyone, including the ones that are loyal to them. you agreed in his logic for the reason that his loyal subjects are the ones that obeys his orders and has the capability of killing anyone. you never liked that idea, even if you don't show or tell it to others, especially your father. he'd be very disappointed if that so happens.

this results to a lot of free time for yourself. with an idea you got from the back of your head, you begun to imitate how your father's loyal subjects often train around the palace.

by training, it meant drawing a weapon and using it constantly for you to get used to it. at first, you thought of it as something you do in your past time. however as moments passes by and more killings were done in the red kingdom, you decided it was for your own safety. you never know when time will come when someone tries to avenge their lost loved one because of your father. as the only heir to the throne and the ones that carries the king's own blood, you will surely be the best prey for a predator.

drawing back your arm, narrowing your eyes and casting a breath, you let go of the tail of the arrow, watching it hit the target whilst quickly reaching for another one and repeat the process.

eleven years. it took eleven years for you to master the art of archery.

at first, you tried with knives, swords and even a fan—which was the weapon of one of your father's loyal subjects. yet, the bow and arrows were the only ones you had gotten a connection too. thus, it served you as your main weapon that you had learned throughout the years without any guidance from anyone.

your father didn't like the idea of you fighting for your own. even if you had kept your training a secret all these years. you had a feeling he knows about it and he was either already pleased about it or he's too disappointed that you were keeping it a secret that he wants you to confess it to him instead of confronting you.

your hair flutters under the influence of the wind as you balanced on your horse, already used to its movement and shifts as he glides through the trees of the forest.

you locked your eyes on a target however as you shot the arrow, a figure catches your attention and it was too late.

"look out!"

you were quite sure that the figure was so a hair-strand away from getting hit yet it dodges, the arrow marking a perfect score on the target on a tree trunk.

you halted your horse and ushers it towards the figure's way, your mind failing to recognize what it was.

"who are you?" you made eye contact with the boy, the crimson in his hair resonating his orbs that were certainly of a different hues than your father and the roses in your garden.

he looks... different. far too unique from the people in the palace.

"how did you gain access in here? from what i remember i told everyone that only i should be of use of the forest." your brows furrow at the sight of him, your guard up just in case he will try something.

although, his face displayed of a gentleness that you had not seen for the longest time—was there ever been a moment, even? that you don't know. from what you can recall, everyone only respected you because of your title.

not because of you yourself.

"don't be alarmed! i bring you no harm, your highness!" he raises both of his hands up as a sign of surrender, his voice tainted of assurance and calmness that no burglar or man with ill-intention would have.

you still refuse to trust him.

"how will i know of your claims?" your grip on your bow tightens, prepared of any kind of attack. "what's your name, stranger?"

he seems to be at ease with your questioning, making you curious even further.

"i am tanjiro kamado. i... the white rabbit and the mad hatter sent me here. he thought i could be of help to you, your highness."

"help? why would i need that?"

then inosuke and zenitsu? why would they send this boy without telling it to you beforehand?

"you need to know what the red king is doing. he needs to be stopped. inosuke told me only you are capable to do that."

"i already know of my father's schemes." your lips tighten in your words, being the second time to have told your secret, you were beginning to think it was a wrong move.

the boy named tanjiro looked surprised, betrayed even. could it be that inosuke lied to him? you guesses that might not be the case.

"you mean... you know that he's planning to start a war against the white kingdom...?" there was hope and uncertainty in his voice, a mixture that you had deemed obvious with how he toned it. however, it was least of your worries for his words had processed in your mind first.

a war? now that you don't know about.

"where have you gotten this idea?" you question him further. "i... i never heard of that."

he seems to have perked up at your last statement, his aura changing in a millisecond.

"muzan learned of my coming here. you know of the legend, right? i didn't know if it at first but i was warned that my arrival would cause great chaos in this world." it had been awhile since you've heard someone use your father's name.

that fact alone changed your perspective on the boy.

climbing down your horse, your garments sticking to your skin as the slight formation of the sweat from your training. without letting go of your bow, you stood in front of tanjiro, feeling like the world had stopped at how you were feeling the beginning of change in you and your household.

looking straight into his eyes, you spoke.

"yes, that is a fact." you scanned his face and found a genuineness that you were not used of seeing as a result of being in a place with people that wore a firm and strict expression constantly. you were getting tired of it.

wait, no. you are tired of it.

"but your coming here is a sign of hope." your muscles eases up at how you let it out all in one go, "you will be the source of peace in wonderland, tanjiro kamado."

all your teenage years you spent on being silent. now that you were getting close to your coronation, it is time to show everyone what is needed to be done,

and with this boy in front of you, you felt as if the coil in your stomach contort back and relax, a ray of light showing you the path that you should take in order for you to succeed in stopping your own father from destroying the land you call home and the king that has the same blood that runs in your veins.

#nnr disney event #nnr kny #reader is so badass here #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu tanjiro #tanjiro kamado #tanjiro x reader #tanjiro oneshots #tanjiro fluff #tanjiro scenarios #kny oneshots #kny x reader #kny kamaboko #kny kamaboko squad #kny kamado #kny inosuke #kny zenitsu

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downwiththeficness · 3 years

Text

In the Bond-Chapter 2

Summary: Lilah often wished she’d never said yes to working with the Gecko brothers—usually while dodging gunfire. At no time was she regretting that decision more than when she’s hanging upside down from the ceiling, staring down a group of hungry culebras and one (1) extremely powerful sun god.

Word Count: ~2,300

Warnings: None

A/N: This is an AU of my Story In the Blood, which can be read here. Basically, this fic explores what would have happened if Lilah had met up with Geckos before she met Brasa.

Taglist: @symbiont13

Start from the beginning Next Chapter Read on AO3 Masterlist

Lilah slid into a chair and regarded the lovers. Kate was sitting in Richie’s lap, rolling her eyes as he pressed intermittent kisses on her cheeks and neck. She’d grown used to their easy affection since the brothers had saved Kate from Amaru. For the first few days, Richie had hardly let go of Kate’s hand, would go where she went, snarling at anyone who came a little too close. Even now, he didn’t go very long without touching her, no matter the situation—a hand on her thigh, a the small of her back, toying with her hair. Kate seemed to take it all in stride, a soft smile that somehow made her look impossibly young.

It was Kate’s eyes that Lilah noticed first when she’d stepped through the doors of Jackknife Jed’s. They flashed with gloom, aging her in a way that in no way reflected in her actual face. Looking at her made Lilah feel so disjointed that she still struggled to hold the younger woman’s gaze. Still, despite the unease, Lilah liked Kate. She certainly made dealing with the ever-arguing brothers just a little bit easier. Lilah couldn’t so easily be out-voted any more, and that was worth the disquiet she sometimes felt in Kate’s presence.

The door to the office flung open, Seth barreling through with no regard for how it hit the shelf behind it, a few of Richie’s knickknacks shaking in their stands. He was wiping sweat from his brow, his ever present frown just a little deeper than normal. Lilah’s eyes narrowed as she watched him come closer.

“Hey, watch the merchandise,” Richie called out, one hand lifting from around Kate’s middle to gesture broadly at the memorabilia.

Fandom was the one thing that Lilah and Richie really agreed on. They’d spent a lot of time on stake outs talking Star Trek, and then Firefly, followed by a whole host of niche geeky topics. He was surprisingly insightful about the little details that made each show unique. And, Lilah had spent a lot of time in hotels watching old B horror movies to be able to hold her own when he went down a rabbit hole. It made the fact that she disagreed with him about the tenants of Jedi life acceptable, in his mind.

“We’ve got bigger problems than Obi Wan’s lightsaber, Richie.”

Seth was definitely in a mood. He might not understand Richie’s interests, and he might roll his eyes when his brother went on a tangent about canon timelines, but he at least respected Richie’s belongings enough that he didn’t intentionally screw around with them. This, whatever it was, was serious. Lilah eyed him narrowly, waiting.

Eyes vaguely betrayed, Richie muttered, “Its Mace Windu.”

Kate patted Richie’s arm lightly, saying, “What’s the problem?”

Rounding his desk, Seth sat heavily. After a deep sigh, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, tossing it on the desk in front of him. It bounced, making a soft ‘shhh’ sound as it slid across the pressed wood of the tabletop.

“We got a message today,” he explained, “And I don’t know what to make of it.”

Lilah leaned forward and plucked it up with two fingers. The paper was a heavy vellum, thick woven. She unfolded it, curious. The ink was a deep red, the lettering thick. As she brought it closer to read, Lilah caught a fragrance that had followed her in the weeks since their last failed mission.

Oh, no.

The letter was meticulously worded. The writing thick and bold, swirling softly around the crosses. Formal. Elegant. Commanding. Brasa.

Lilah read and re-read it, “He’s asking for peace.”

She looked at Seth, brows lifted in surprise. Then, she stood, stepped to Richie’s desk, and handed it to the younger brother. All the while, she tried to keep her face as neutral as possible. Lilah was grateful that Seth never bothered with the overhead lights, that only the lamps on either desk illuminated the room. Her face was hot, her hands shaking. She didn’t know how to stand so as to draw no attention to herself while she internally panicked.

“He’s playing a game,” Seth said as he opened a drawer in his desk, pulling out a bottle, yanking out the stopper, and drinking straight from it. “Its a trap.”

Richie took a few moments to read the letter before Kate took it from him. She stood and read it, as well. Lilah watched her face, trying to discern her reaction. Kate chewed her thumbnail as her eyes flicked over the page, her brows together. A shadow passed over her expression.

“No,” Kate uttered so low that Lilah almost didn’t hear it, “He’s really asking for peace.”

Lilah didn’t have the time to think about how she might know that, or the implications. Or, how she might feel about those implications.

Seth scoffed, “How the fuck do you know that?”

Setting the letter down on Richie’s desk, Kate shrugged, “I spent a lot of time with him when I was...when she was inside me.” She sniffed, “Even though Amaru thought they were bullshit, he obeys the old laws. This is a formal call for peace talks. He’s written it in his own blood.”

Lilah felt her eyes widen, shocked that Kate could tell whose blood was on the paper. Shocked even further that someone would write a letter in their literal blood. Shocked still further that she cared how he might have procured his own blood in enough supply to write such a letter.

There were a few side effects from Kate’s possession, little quirks that Kate would sometimes display without really thinking. She’d stand up way too fast, know who might walk through the door next, hear conversations from the next room. Lilah did her best to just roll with it, but this was a little bit too freaky for Lilah’s normal ‘roll with it’ sensibilities. She deliberately set it aside, hoping that she wouldn’t need to examine the thought later.

Richie lit a cigarette, blowing the smoke through his nose, “Why now? We’ve spent the last six months fighting and killing each other, and now he wants to talk peace.”

Lilah sat down, folding her hands in her lap as she tried very hard not to think this was about her. She could not be so self-centered as to think that Brasa would give up a war just because she happened to be on the other side. A war he was, by all accounts, winning as the Gecko’s ceded more and more territory to the culebras he seemed to govern. There had to be another explanation. A trap, maybe, a false sense of security.

“Alright,” Seth drawled, “We get him in a room and gank him.”

Kate gasped, looking horrified, “We have a chance to get real progress, here. Do you want to fight forever?”

Lilah definitely knew the answer to that question. Seth’s entire life was a fight—physical or otherwise. He wasn’t comfortable if there wasn’t some sort of conflict to battle through, his brother at his side. Even if they achieved peace, he’d be at someone’s throat within twenty four hours. It was both endearing and utterly frustrating to watch him cycle through the same motions over and over.

Seth rose, leaning his hands on the desk, “You, more than anyone, have a reason to want every one of those snakes dead.”

Sneering, Kate crossed her arms, “I, more than anyone, have a reason to want all of this to stop. I don’t want to see any more death.”

Behind her, Richie shifted uneasily in his chair. Lilah took each of them in, knowing there was far more history than she was privy to playing out right in front of her. It left her feeling like she couldn’t make a good decision, didn’t have enough data to create a strategy. This was not her preferred method of moving through life. She remained still, waiting.

“We should meet with him,” Kate asserted, hip cocking to the side.

It was not a rare occasion that Kate would insist that they act in a certain way. She had a strong moral compass that clashed with the brothers’ more criminal predilections. More often than not, Kate centered them, kept them from going too far. Lilah was grateful. She had never been successful in stemming off their momentum, once they got started.

“Absolutely not,” Seth shot back, his mouth a firm line.

Lilah surprised herself by adding, “I agree with Seth.”

Richie stubbed out his cigarette, “I’m with Kate.”

This was not surprising. Richie tended to side with Kate on most things. Lilah caught the look he sent Kate, though Kate was still looking at Seth. His eyes were following the line of her petite body, admiring in a way that made Lilah look away, embarrassed.

Seth circled his desk, leaning his hip against it, “Two against two. How’re we going to break the tie?”

There was a beat of silence, then Richie stood and offered up his fist, “Best out of three?”

When Richie beat Seth two to one, Seth gave him a hardy ‘fuck you’ and strode from the room. Richie heaved a beleaguered sigh and followed him. Lilah dropped her head in her hands, boggled by the decision making skills of her partners. Rock, paper scissors...honestly.

“Why don’t you want to meet with them?”

Lilah lifted her eyes at the question, feeling her chest constrict, “I won’t have to do the actual meeting, Kate.” Lie, lie, lie, Lilah, “I just don’t think we’ll be successful.”

Kate tilted her head to the side, “You think its a trap?”

Lilah grabbed onto that line of thinking. It was logical, far more logical than ‘No, Kate. I just don’t want to meet up with someone who claims I am his bondmate and with whom I have exchanged blood’. Even in her head, it sounded so incredibly stupid. Not to mention the fact that she’d been hiding it long enough that admitting it would only lead to suspicion.

“I think Seth is too hot headed,” Lilah clarified quickly, “I think that it’ll fall apart before it even gets started.”

There, that was a convincing lie that was pretty grounded in enough truth that even Lilah half believed it. She very carefully did not study Kate’s face to see if the lie had landed.

Kate moved closer, her ancient gaze peering at Lilah carefully, “You’re right.”

Oh. Okay.

“Thank you.”

“You need to go with them.”

Ah, fuck.

“What?”

Kate nodded, her expression hardening, “You go with them, keep things level, make this work.”

“Me?” Lilah didn’t like how high her voice came out. She cleared her throat, “No, you know them better than I do. You go. Bring me whatever contract they draw up, I’ll red line it, make sure its fair.”

That was her role. Look over the game plan, find the flaws, work out the kinks. In that, Lilah was comfortable and safe. No need to put herself back in a room with Brasa. No need to let this get even more out of hand. No need for the messiness that would come from that.

Shaking her head, Kate took a step back, “I can’t. I can’t face him. What I did to him was,” she searched for words, “terrible.”

The sudden turn of Kate’s tone, the way her face screwed up in real disgust, made Lilah sit up and stake notice. Where had this come from?

She inhaled, trying to parse the words, “What does that mean?”

Kate’s eyes were focused on the middle distance, her mouth quivering, “Amaru loved torture, all kinds of torture. She didn’t care who it was that she hurt. I—she liked,” Another breath, “Brasa was blood bound to her, she could make him do things, do anything. She never got her hands dirty, but him…”

Lilah waited for more, but Kate simply stopped speaking. She looked shell shocked, tears welling up. God, but Lilah had been completely fooled by Kate’s frequent smiles and clear headedness. She hadn’t known how much trauma the hell queen had put Kate through, hadn’t even thought that Kate was conscious of the things that she’d done while trapped inside her own body. Moved to action, she stood and embraced Kate, saying to her the only comfort she could think to give.

“Its the past. And, it wasn’t you.” Then, “Are you still blood bound?”

She felt like real shit for asking, but she needed to know what Brasa’s relationship was with Kate, and if it would make their own relationship (did they even have a relationship?) more complicated. Kate made a soft sound in the negative and Lilah let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. That was one complication she had, thankfully, avoided.

Kate’s body was taut, “When she first brought me back, when I met him, I felt the power I had over him. And, she abused it. I drained him dry that first night, to regain her strength. After three days, when he managed to stand up off the ground, she did it again. Because she could.” Kate pulled back and looked at Lilah, “That wasn’t even the worst of it. How can I look him in the eye after all that?”

Lilah shook her head, “Like I said, it wasn’t you. And, if he really wants to talk peace, he’ll set it aside. If not, fuck ‘im.”

That, at least, was the truth. Lilah had been fighting his kind of less than a year and she was tired of it. She wanted peace. She wanted to go on nice, normal jobs—jewel theft, a bank heist, possibly even some fine art that they could sell on the black market. Stuff that was in her wheelhouse, in her comfort zone. If he was going to hold Kate responsible for the actions of Amaru, then he wasn’t worth negotiating with. Full stop.

Kate loosed a soundless laugh, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

#from dusk til dawn #from dusk til dawn: the series #brasa #In the Bond

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gothamsglam · 3 years

Text

How Wonder-land-a-ful!

Transferring to SHIELD high did many things for Tony, one of them was reuniting him with James Rhodes. Just not how he wanted to.

Ever After High/Marvel Fusion. Ironhusbands, of course. (You don't have to know much about Ever After High to read this, think just some fairy tale AU and you'll be fine!)

AO3 LINK IN NOTES

I wanted to churn out one more story for the end of 2020, I thought something more silly would be a great way to end this uh year.

This idea has stuck with me for a while, and I finally wrote it.

Hope you enjoy!!!

~Vix

SHIELD High was so bland . Yes, it was grand of course, structured like the classically large fairy-tale castles of Ever After. The hallways were marble with lockers and vines lining the walls and trees and plants growing willy nilly around the school. Chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, and large arched windows showed off the beauty of the lands around them. In the distance, Tony swears he can see Sleeping Beauty’s castle.

But SHIELD high was just bland in comparison to home. To Wonderland . Not even the personalized dorms could make up for the fact that school was all year long— ew , who made that rule—instead of one day a year. Tony missed the nonsensical beauty of SI High, where the hallways ran instead of you, where you had to find the paintbrushes in passing period to paint the doors—free art credits!—, and the cafeteria that was switched with the auditorium.

But the castle-teria at SHIELD was just a long hall with rows and rows of marvel benches, pillars in the corners to honor the greek storylines and pay tribute to the last generation of Fairytale legends.

It was so boring. And just looking at it made Tony want to *poof* right there and then.

“Hi Tony,” Steve Rogers asked, coming behind him in the castle-teria, “Need a place to sit?”

Oh and this, this was another thing Tony wasn’t fond of. Transferring to SHIELD high meant he actually was walking among the children of fairy tale legend. Disgusting.

Father was too fond of them, far too fond of them. Back when Wonderland and Ever After had many open portals between one another—back before the curse on Wonderland by the Evil Queen of the HYDRA family. Howard was an ambassador , the git.

Howard didn’t get the White Rabbit legacy as Tony did, no, Uncle Jarvis had. Howard was a part of the Wakandan court, one of many peace ambassadors to the other royal families, particularly the ones in Ever After. Oh, the tales Tony was told as a young bunny, of the Rogers Family’s legacy brought forth by the apple, of the Red Hooded Romanoffs, and the Rose pricked Wilsons.

Tony was glad he didn’t have to walk among them at SI High, he was content to only have to see them in the crowd at Legacy day. Tony was actually really excited for Legacy day, his own legacy wasn’t following his father, but rather his mother and Uncle Jarvis. Signing his page in the Storybook of Legends was a milestone Tony didn’t mind looking forward to.

However Tony also understood why James Barnes, heir to the Evil Queen, wouldn’t want to sign. To each their own, he supposes.

But ugh, SHIELD high had too many Princes, he hated it.

His nose twitching, Tony ducked away from Rogers—who was bigger, blonder, and oh the clocks was that a red crown on his stupid head? “Thanks, but no thanks, golden boy. I’ll just—uh—”

He looked out at the rows and rows of tables, at the heads of up-dos and flower pins, and the sea of gelled down curls and impeccable sleeves. Seriously how does no one have a stain on their shirt? It’s mud-loaf day!

There! Out in the crowd, a hand popped out waving him over, Tony grinned, popping up a bit and rushing away from the other guy, “See ya, Rogers!”

“Bye…?”

Resisting the urge to stick out his tongue, Tony padded away with swift steps, the click of his shoes drowned out by the noise of the castle-teria. Reaching the table in the back, he grinned at the sight of familiar friends.

He wasn’t the only one apart of the exchange program of course, in fact, he was the second wave of students, prepared by letters sent by the other students. Tony had his own assigned group of the next exchange student. A lovely little trio of kids. Peter would not stop asking about the royal classes offered at SHIELD and MJ was more interesting in the classes offered by Maria Hill. Tony wouldn’t know, of course, he switched out of those classes the second day after running into pig shit mid-chase. For a house on chicken legs, it was surprisingly very fast.

Virginia ‘Pepper’ Potts was donned in swirls of light peach and blue with subtle armor around her waist and shoulders. Her hair was curled, pinned away from her face in a half updo, with the rest falling around her and nearly touching the table as she leaned in to pat the now empty spot across from her.

“Tony!” She exclaimed, freckles dancing across her face as she broke out into a smile, “got lost?” She teased.

Tony blew a raspberry, “Pssht, no, How could I get lost here? Wonderland was more interesting, this place is just boring,” he waved, twirling his fork in his food.

T’challa laughed, the matte gold detailing on his black jacket catching the light beans from the windows, it covered his purple and black card-like patterned dress shirt “That’s what you think, Stark. But with everything looking the same, you’ll pass by the same five classrooms over and over without noticing.”

Tony also laughed, “True. Remember, how—when you missed the upside-down sidewalk outside of bio-mechanics—you could end up in fishing class because of the fountain step? Every time the freshmen would come in dripping halfway through class.”

“Oh, does everyone still call them fish?” Sharon asked, pulling out Earl the dormouse from her empty teacup. He hopped up her shoulder to hide in her mini top hat. Her suit jacket was draped over her shoulders—rather than it being on the bench—and her cream shirt had mini hats detailed, blending in with the folds as it was only a few shades darker.

“Classically,” Tony replied with a wink. They turned back to their conversations, gossiping about their peers such as Maximoff—from Cinderella’s line—who was enamored with Vision—from the hunter’s line. Scandalous.

Tony halfheartedly listened to the discussion but was really on the verge of nodding off. His roommate—Justin Hammer, stupid son of the Cheshire cat—kept playing pranks on him and ruining his things with paint bombs. He almost got a fairy fail in physics because his latest essay had swamp goop over it! He had to stay up rewriting it, which wouldn’t be a problem normally but he had stayed up trying to make weld a new type of gear for his pet project.

Tony must have dozed off for a bit, because when he blinked open his eyes, he was resting on his elbows, folded under some familiar fabric. Blinking blearily at the side of his tray, Tony sat up. Well, that’s embarrassing, so much for his reputation. Pushing a hand through his hair, he avoided glancing around and instead went to look at his lap and pull out his pocket watch. However, someone else reached out to poke his side, resulting in a leap and an ‘eep!’.

“Hey there, sleeping beauty!” Rhodey smirked at him, “I think you and Wilson were supposed to have each other’s destinies. That was some impression you were doing.”

Damn him, Damn it all. Of course , Tony would fall asleep right then and there, drooling over his arms in front of James Rhodes . Of course the first time he’d see the precious son of the Alice bloodline—after literal years in different worlds—would be when he’s conked out in front of his dripping mashed potato tray in the flipping Greek castle-teria. Unbelievable, Tony.

And Rhodes— Rhodey —has the literal audacity to sit there with a playful smirk on his face. Sit there in his v-neck— v-neck!!! —map patterned shirt that should make him look like a dork but he doesn’t , and a necklace that dips over his collarbone —and oh stars —his hair .

Tony really should say something, “Uh—Hi, honey bear?” His voice cracks, because of course, it does.

“Hi, Tones,” Rhodey replies with a smile, and it’s dazzling . Tony just might scream.

Everything is muted, he couldn’t tell you if Pepper and Sharon were still talking, if T’challa had left the table or if lunch was even over. It feels like, for a brief moment, there’s only Rhodey.

Rhodey, who’s turning around to address someone else. Tony also looks away, trying to keep his ears from burning up and turning red.

“Tony, were you drawing in your mash potatoes?” Rhodey looks over, pressing slightly against Tony to peer over at his tray.

Which prompts Tony to dart out and pull the tray towards him with a, “Nooooo?”

Rhodes looks back at him, raising an eyebrow, “Really?”

“Maybe~?”

That prompted a laugh out of him, gaining the attention of Pepper sitting a bit away from them. “Oh, Tony’s still doing that? I thought that was only a Wonderland thing.”

“Hey!” Tony wrinkled his nose and glared at her, silently grateful at the fact that pulled him out of mentally gaping like a fish at his best friend—are they even best friends anymore? Rhodey probably has like a billion of them at SHIELD. “I can do it anywhere. It’s called art.”

“You wouldn’t know art if it slapped you in the face.”

Tony opened his mouth, literally about to say, ‘I mean if Rhodey slapped me in the face I would say he’s art.’ before he’s stopped by the one jellybean of a brain cell in the back of his mind.

Well that and Rhodey’s “If anyone can bring wonder with them to SHIELD, it would be Tony.”

Which, oKAY , Tony needs to stop exploding inwardly and actually say something, “Um, speaking of wonder, does anyone know anything about that one well myth?”

“The well of wonder?” Sharon asked, polling her hand from her mouth where she was probably stifling giggles, which rude, ok.

T’challa also answered, “I believe I might be of help. Why are you asking Tony?”

Tony darted a look at Rhodey—he can’t see his face because he’s looking at T’challa, but he swears that under the table his fist clenches. Weird—before looking at T’challa, “It’s a surprise,” He winked.

And it was! But for Rhodey. He was supposed to have it done pre-meeting him at lunch, but thanks to Hammer he missed his mental deadlines. It wasn’t like he had sought out Natasha Romanoff beforehand to ask about James’ schedule so he could know when they had lunch together or anything, absolutely not.

See—back when in Wonderland—, Tony and Rhodey would galavant about, exploring the lands and falling down many rabbit holes, quite literally. Tony remembers how in his workshop, Rhodey would always love seeing Tony design the swords and spears for the Wonderland card-guards—the Dora Milaje. However what Tony specialized in was watch-making, specifically enchanted watches. Watches with personality, with faces that weren’t just hands and numbers or mini mirror-pods, but near people like. Pixel-faires born of Tony’s creation. DUM-E was his first.

‘You’ was meant for Rhodey, he’d been making them ever since he heard he was chosen for the second era of exchange students. It really shouldn’t have taken so long, but without the wonder of Wonderland and his workshop, it was harder.

So when he heard about the well of wonder, the last remain flow between the two worlds, he knew he had to find it. Too bad it disappeared every night, popping up all over Ever After.

“It would be best to go with someone Tony,” Sharon said, “The well likes to frequent the forest.”

“I could go with you!” Rhodey exclaimed, well not exclaimed, that was just Tony projecting. Mostly... Maybe? No, probably.

“Really?” Tony asked, “You don’t—?”

“It’s my free period anyway," Rhodey shrugged, “Besides you’re already using my jacket, so now you can wear it in the forest too!”

“I—” Tony looks back at the table, and oh.

Oh , that’s what he was sleeping on.

T’challa mentioned stopping by their—his and Rhodey’s—dorm so they can get directions. There’s more regaling of the well, and mentions of seeing Bruce Banner and Thor frequenting the area, which ooo? But all Tony really remembers is seeing Rhodey reaching over, draping his jacket over Tony’s shoulder.

“It’s a date,” Rhodey grinned with a dazzling smile.

~FIN~

So do you like who is who? I didn't recast everyone, but I might continue this AU so maybe I will later down the line! Please let me know what you think in the comments and leave a kudo too! Love you all!!!

#tony stark #tony stark fic #ironhusbands #ironhusbands fic #tonyrhodey #tonyrhodey fic #tony stark x james rhodes #james rhodey rhodes #james rhodes #fanfiction #marvel/ever after high fusion #ever after high #marvel #mcu #vix writes #my writing #long lost #link post

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bradshawwannebe · 4 years

Text

Coffee and baby bunnies

Bucky Barnes x fem!englishteacher!Reader

It’s weird when you have a best friend that suddenly doesn’t seem like a best friend. One look at him and you notice just how much you love him. Do you act on these feelings or should you just keep them to yourself?

Warnings: fluff and a mean little cat (based off of my own cat)

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Waking up one morning and deciding that going to a coffee shop was good, it was a great idea. Right up until you stubbed your toe and thought you broke the nail on your pinky toe, again. Then you remembered you have an English class to teach at the local High School, and luckily your class doesn’t start until 7:00. Quickly glancing at the clock and it reading 6:30 caused you to get your butt into gear, slipping on some skinny jeans and a nice loose fitting black shirt you decided to slip on pointed toe red flats and doing some simple makeup as quickly as possible. Looking back at the clock and seeing that 10 minutes had passed you sighed ‘That’s a record’ you grabbed the daily necessities and your keys to go to the nearest open coffee shop available. Right after you fed and pet the little furball of a cat you called Pattie May wishing her a good day and asked her not to mess with pillows and plants too much, or at all.

It took all of ten minutes to see that your favorite cafe was open and grabbing your coffee and a croissant until you met a rock hard chest but thankfully saving the coffee. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going, are you okay?” A low, deep chuckle is what you heard in response your fussing, out of humiliation your eye were facing the red shoes on your feet but the chuckle you heard irritated you, causing you to look up at the person to reprimand them for laughing at you, but when you saw who it was that fire quickly died and the blood spread across your face in an instant.

“It's a fine, doll, don’t worry about me, are you ok?” the man, er well The Winter Soldier, responded.

Your breath got caught in your throat and your heart skipped a beat at the sudden realization and words failed you, ‘So much for becoming an English teacher’. And with that you nodded with a, “Yes, I’m ok, uh thank you for asking Mr. Soldier… er uh Barnes, Uh I-I mean-” you were cut off before you could embarrass yourself any further, if that was possible.

“Bucky, my name’s Bucky,” jeez, what a voice.

“Bucky,” you breathed, testing the name out on your lips, and loving the way it felt,” right, sorry. Thank you, Bucky for asking and sorry for running into you but I really have to get going.”

“What’s your name?” he rushed out before you could turn away.

Telling Bucky your name, you walked out before you said something you’d regret.

And once at the school and in the security of your classroom, Levi, a freshman asked why you were so red and you blamed the coffee.

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Since that day around a week ago, you’ve met at the same shop as often as possible, waking up earlier, getting dressed faster just to see Bucky. However today, numbers were exchanged and not even before you left the shop, you got a message from an unknown number, why numbers weren’t exchanged before was beyond your knowledge.

“Hey, it’s Bucky.”

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It’s been a month and yours and Bucky's friendship has blossomed, still a friendship but he has successfully been upgraded to ‘best friend’ seeing as you only have two other people that you talk to that aren’t students or work colleagues,and personally are your friends. “Hello, Earth to Y/N, are you still there?” the metal hand of Bucky Barnes waved in your face to get your attention. “Are you okay? You seem out of it.” His concern warmed your heart and you fought off a blush and grin from appearing on your face. “Yeah, Buck, I’m fine, what were you saying?”

He eyed you a bit before answering, “I was asking how your class is.” Oh.

“It’s going okay, I stopped a few kids on the football team from snorting Smarties before anyone could do much damage,” you supplied the man. Explaining how snorting the candy worked when he gave you a confused expression. “Big dummy heads, the lot of them.”

“Isn’t calling students ‘dummy heads’ considered bullying?” he teased while sitting on a nearby bench in Central Park. you fixed him with a glare that didn’t last long before you decided that it was getting late and your bed was calling your name.

“Actually, no, I wasn’t talking about them, per say,” you defended yourself, standing up and throwing the empty cappuccino cup in your hand in the nearby trash bin, “but it is getting late and I should most definitely be getting back to my apartment and grade some papers. See ya.”

You didn’t notice that he had already stood up and he grabbed your wrist before you could move too far away. “I know you’re walking home and it’s New York and it’s a big city, so I could walk you home.”

You glanced at your watch quickly before making a decision. “Ya know, yeah, why not? Plus, now you could meet Pattie May. Well Gabby and I call her May, but Jordyn just calls her cat. She’s a bit of a b-,” you said without taking a breath before realization dawned on you that you were rambling. A thing you did when you were excited or nervous. You went to state your realization before you were cut off. “You’re rambling again, doll.”

“Whoops, sorry,” you stated with a slight shrug and a sheepish smile walking ahead to hide the inevitable yet traitorous blush on your face. You felt his presence as he sidled up beside you. The cool, autumn air couldn’t extinguish the fact that the man standing next to you could very well be a heater in disguise as you felt his warmth radiating off of him. Walking the trail out of Central Park you spotted the small bunny that sat off to the side of the trail. “Bucky, look, it’s a baby bunny!” you couldn’t contain your excitement. Spotting the small animal was probably one the most exciting things you did as a teenager, the excitement of seeing them never leaving you, even as a fully grown adult.

“It’s so tiny and adorable. Hey, do you think we touch him or her? I don’t know it’s gender but it’s cute.” The logic of stating your desire hit you and you suddenly felt like the dumbest person ever. Especially when the bunny saw you and took off out of fear. “Actually nevermind.” You didn’t miss the look of fondness on his face, the smile he gave you was like an award.

“Hey, you ok? You just kinda stopped talking,” you were actually slightly worried. And as if sensing your concern, or well simply answering you, he looks away.

“Yeah, the rabbit was just cute. So, my question is why I have never been to your apartment in the first place. You’ve been to mine countless times for movie night but I’ve never been to yours.”

Shrugging you answered. “Now that I think about it, I don’t really know. Well then in that case, why don’t we have a movie night Friday? We could order pizza and find a movie on Netflix or something.” It's not the first time you’ve had a movie night with Bucky so it’s nothing unusual about the event. However, to say that you didn’t feel attracted to the man beside you would be a lie and to say that you didn’t have a small, but slightly large crush on him would be an even bigger lie.

“Yeah, is around 7 okay?” he asked already knowing that answer would be yes, and with a nod of your head you confirmed it, and the rest of the walk to your apartment was silent.

When you reached your apartment you convinced him to come in even if it was only for a second. Sliding off your shoes at the door in order to not track dirt or mud into the apartment, and asking Bucky to do the same. Doing as you asked he set his boots on the floor by the door. “Hey, so where’s that cat you were talking about? I want to meet her,” he spoke genuinely curious about the cat, and excusing yourself you went to go find her.

Bucky watched you walk out of the room stunned with the slightly messy papers on the table and the small bushy kitten on the couch that was glaring at him. He walked over to the flowers and various succulent plants that were resting by a bookcase of small knick knacks and books that scream the little perks of personality you left in the apartment, and he couldn’t help but notice some of the bears that graced a few of the shelves around your home and the bit of succulents that were on the ground, with little bite marks in the small chunks. Then, suddenly there was a loud ‘bang’ drawing him out of his train of thought. “You alright, doll?” he wasn’t too worried, he could tell you were clumsy just by the continuous meetings at his favorite coffee shop and the movie nights at his apartment.

“I’m ok, don’t worry! Is May out there? I can’t find her in here.” he chuckled at your statement, assuming you stubbed your toe and a small thump followed with a string of curses.

“Yeah, she’s in here so try not to kill yourself coming out.” and with that he walked over to the small kitten that suddenly started standing up and purring at him.

“Well, aren’t you a cutie?” he asked the fluff ball, reaching his hand out to pet her. Unfortunately for him he reached out his flesh hand, and the small kitten had already rolled onto her back attacking the supposedly offending hand.

“Ow, you little-” he was cut off when you walked into the living room and scolded the cat and carrying a squirt gun in your right hand.

“May! You know better, stop biting people that only want to show you affection,” he couldn’t help but think how domestic the situation was, the small cat no longer gnawing on his fingers but instead hugging his hand,”I’m sorry about her. She’s only a few months old and extremely playful. It doesn’t mean she hates you, I promise.”

“She's cute so I think she can get away with it,” he teased with a small smile, and you smiled back. You stayed like that until the death ball meowed at you and decided to use your leg as a scratch post.

“OW, you little brat! Fine, I’ll get your food just be nice, jeez,” excusing yourself you walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. As soon as May heard the refrigerator open she was gone, followed by persistent squeaks that could only be described as demanding from the cat.

“I know, I know, but you have dry food so why do you want this so bad? Oh well. Here you go, hun, eat up.” and almost as if the kitten was thanking you the meows ended with another squeak.

“Sorry, I give her some wet food in the morning and at night and she is very vocal and demanding about it, but even then she's kind of polite,” you explained, turning around in your kitchen only to be met with a hard chest.

“Oof,sorry… again,” you said sheepishly, taking a few steps back. Bucky didn’t say anything except a follow up apology.

“You apologize too much.”

“Yeah, well… so do you, you giant,” you teased back.

“Well, you’re cute when you talk to animals.”

“Well, you’re cute when you think I don’t know when you're staring,” the playful banter suddenly turned into a confession of feelings within seconds, ‘wow, I really just said that.’

“Well, your glasses make you look cuter than when you wear your contacts.”

“Yeah? Well, I like you… a lot.”

“I bet I like you a lot more, sugar.”

“Not possible, soldier,” you sassed taking one step towards him.

Taking one step closer you became chest to chest.

“I’m about to kiss you,” You whispered.

He smirked at that, “Not if I kiss you first,” and you he did. His lips felt so much better than in your dreams. Your arms snuck their way around his neck while his arms rested on your waist. However do to this pesky little thing called oxygen you had to pull away, even though you really didn’t want to.

“MEOW!”

Looking down you both chuckled at the small furry kitten demanding something from, what that is you aren’t exactly sure. Bucky leaned down for another chaste kiss,” You think we could make Friday more of a date? I could pick you up at the same time and everything”

You nodded, agreeing with him and the time.

“Goodnight, doll, don’t stay up too late grading those. You’ll be tired by tomorrow morning,” he stated putting his shoes on and walking outside you following behind him to the door.

“Goodnight, Bucky, don’t worry, I’ll save them for tomorrow.”

With one last kiss, he walked out the door, “maybe I’ll have the kids grade the papers”.

#bucky x reader #winter solider x you #this my first one please be kind #fluffy!bucky x reader #Soft!bucky #Bucky x teacher!Reader #bucky x sassy!reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes fluff

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littlesparklight · 3 years

Text

Princes and Cowherds

First part for a short fic (though longer than this, obviously) dealing with Paris’ discovery. I never really could like the later prophecy-exposure background for Paris, since they have him rejoin his biological family when he’s something like 16-19? And the Iliad itself always gave me the feeling he’s lived with them for a majority of his life, and you don’t get any indication any of the prophecy or exposure is a THING (bet it would have been mentioned otherwise), but I find I like it better if you make Paris younger. :)

Huffing and puffing through swaying firs, a cooling wind somewhere up above but not reaching down to Hektor, was a terrible way to get lost. Two hours ago Hektor hadn't yet admitted that lost was what he was, but by now it was inevitable. The two hunting spears, light as they were, weighed on his shoulder and his thighs and calves were protesting their cruel treatment since Hektor had so far refused to stop walking even to just sit down and rest for a couple minutes.

If he stopped, after all, he would be those extra few minutes away from getting un-lost, and the sooner Hektor got himself back on familiar ground, the better.

It still grated a little that Mount Ida should be where he'd gotten lost. He'd been here a couple times on hunting trips with his father and Aisakos, after all. Of course, he hadn't taken himself all the way to Shepherd Cottage just for this hunting trip, and when they'd always set out from there previously, perhaps it wasn't so strange that he might have taken a step wrong, at some point. If that was so, however, Hektor thought he should've found his way back to his starting point hours ago. All this, too, and all he had to show for it was a couple rabbits. He'd passed a deer or two, scared into graceful flight by his passing, but he couldn't exactly drag a whole deer around, even if it wasn't a stag in antlers, though they were all growing them in, still, at this time of year. At the very least he didn't have to admit to responsibility of having had the chance to know the mountain better by way of the traditional sheep herding, because he'd only just started out. The royal princes of Troy no longer necessarily spent any part of their stint herding sheep up on Mount Ida unless they truly wanted the full experience, and Hektor had, until now, rather intended to skip it.

Maybe he really ought to learn to know the mountain better, since that would at least ensure something like this didn't happen again, and actually going through the full effort of spending some time on Mount Ida with the sheep would help with that.

"Stupid," Hektor muttered, stomping along what looked like a possible path, and if he was supposed to get lost he was at least glad he was alone for it. He would have died if anyone caught him out like this, not knowing what he was doing or where he was going. He was fifteen, after all, not eleven! And with Aisakos gone just last year, his father needed someone he could depend on.

But who could depend on an oldest son and prince who got lost?

"Stupid, stupid, stupid." Groaning, Hektor finally gave up and stopped, running a hand down his face. Just for a little while. He needed to catch his breath, and maybe looking around while standing still would give him a better hint as to what part of the mountain he'd ended up on.

Unfortunately, the widely spaced, majestic firs looked no different now than they had in the last hour or more, and the only paths, barely obvious in the sparse undergrowth and the mat of pine needles, were animal ones. If humans walked past here, they didn't do so with enough regularity to mark their passing. Squinting up at the sky visible past the treetops, Hektor grunted. He knew he needed to go slopewards at the very least, but he could swear he'd been doing exactly that at several points, and yet he was nowhere near the foothills. Angrily, he almost shoved one of his spears down into the ground, but took a breath, let it out slowly, and shook his head. Losing his temper would solve nothing. Tossing his spears about as if he was a two year old having a tantrum would solve nothing. If this took until tomorrow to solve, it was not a catastrophe - he had food, water could surely easily be found, and it was summer. If it did start to rain, he could deal with getting wet.

In the distance, a rolling crack of noise, as if in answer to a certainly not meant challenge, sounded, making Hektor's teeth itch.

"Great." Sighing, Hektor looked around once more, this time in hopeful search for a potential shelter, even if it wasn't necessary that the thunder would come with rain, and then frowned. Tipped his head and cupped a hand about the ear, but no, he wasn't mistaken.

Singing.

Actually having registered it now, Hektor realized he'd heard it on and off for the last hour, maybe even the last two hours, at least.

It took him about a couple minutes of dithering, shifting on his feet and taking a step in the seeming direction of the noise, catching himself, doing it again, before he gave in. He was highly unlikely to ever run into whatever hunter or herdsman was out up here, so asking for a pointer to find his way back down to Dardanos wouldn't hurt. Much. He wasn't much at all charmed by the idea of having to ask a peasant or slave for directions, no matter if he should never see them again.

That the singing could be something other than mortal was, of course, not something that escaped him, but Hektor decided it was better to take the risk, and a nymph would be far better than a mortal hunter or herdsman, if only in how well she'd known her own home. For as tricky as it at first was to find the source of the singing, when Hektor stepped out into a sloping mountain meadow dotted with a small herd of cattle, he was pretty sure he was dealing with human singing, and thus human limitations on what might transpire.

The cows, at least, with three calves about their legs and making mad, dashing forays across the meadow, were certainly normal enough. Huge placid eyes followed his path across the meadow, through high, drying grass and around bushes, and were little bothered by him. Their neatheard Hektor found sitting on a rock by a narrow rivulet of water barely deep enough to swamp a finger's breadth of grass with itself.

A child, nothing more, so long-haired Hektor was wondering if it was a little girl, maybe a little less than ten years of age, especially considering the flower crown atop the child's head.

"Greetings," Hektor said as the singing broke off, and was treated to a gap-toothed smile after a startled, wide-eyed moment of staring. The child then jumped off their perch, flapping a hand to the rock.

"Hello. Do you need to sit? The slope is pretty steep!"

Bristling, Hektor, swallowed his pride with a sigh. At least he hadn't said he looked tired, but surely, after walking all the way past noon, he must look rather bedraggled, particularly in this heat. So he sat, eyeing his potential guide. A boy, probably, even if the child's voice was one of the sweetest he'd ever heard. When he wasn't singing, it was a shade more possible to tell, and while he was graceful, there was a certain boniness to the future promise of lanky build that made Hektor feel certain of his judgement.

"It is," he agreed, dropping his spears and the rabbits at his feet, caught by the wilting flowers spread around the stone. Looked up, to the fresh crown on top of those shining-soft brown curls, and wondered if the boy had woven himself a new flower crown at the first sign of his old one starting to fail in the heat. That was... dedication, he supposed. "Do you live near Dardanos?"

There was, after all, no real graceful way of asking for help without asking if the boy could help, and if he lived in some small mountain village somewhere up here, he would probably not be able to. Biting down on a groan, Hektor stretched his legs out as the boy blinked and then shrugged. His eyes were very large, and blue-green like a shallow sea, and Hektor could swear he'd not even seen comely maidens with as pretty cheeks as this boy had. He looked more as if he should be a prince than a cowherd in rough spun linen, the tunic he wore a little too long for him - something to grow into.

"Oh, yes. I like going all the way up here, most don't bother, but it means the grazing is good." The boy nodded, and little winks of light caught in carefully twisted metal hair ornaments spread out in his hair; they were clearly not meant to tame the curls. Rather, all they did was draw the eye to the thick fall of them, even if the metal must be cheap and the decoration of the ornaments sparse, if any at all. They did match the twisted bit of woven grass on one wrist, and on the other hung another bracelet of beads, a little chipped and colour fading, maybe, but nice enough for all that. Hektor wondered why the boy's parents would put such effort into making him look like this, when he clearly sat out among his cows most of the time.

But maybe it wasn't just, or only, the boy's parents. The fresh flower crown, and it wasn't a messy, slapdash work either, did attest to the child's own interest, as strange as that was.

"So you know the way down to the city from here? You need to tell me, then."

The boy opened his mouth. Closed it. Stared at Hektor for a squint-eyed moment, then shook his head, causing another glittering rush through his hair. "I could, if you want. But it might be easier if you just waited, and we could go down at the same time. The path isn't very simple, though maybe there's a better one I don't know."

It was Hektor's turn to draw breath and then snap his teeth shut around words unsaid, as much as he wanted to demand the child give him directions. Or maybe grab him by that skinny arm and drag him down the mountain, cows or no cows. But the boy had work to do, and clearly took it seriously. As well as, potentially, just trying to look out for the stupid, lost stranger who'd just asked him for directions down the mountain.

"Besides," the boy commented in the silence Hektor left, "would you rather walk down the mountain wet, or wait, and walk down dry?"

"What makes you think it's going to start raining anytime soon?" Hektor scowled, not liking the reminder. He didn't much like the idea of walking down the mountain for a couple hours, sopping wet, but he could deal with it.

"The thunder, of course." Somehow, the boy managed to sound as if it was obvious, but not as if he thought Hektor was stupid for asking. Or maybe not much, at least. "And those clouds."

One hand shielding eyes that made Hektor think of his father or Anchises or Aeneas, drawing to mind the rivers and their daughters, the boy pointed off south, the mountain falling off to the east and the slopes stretching out wooded and wavy. Beyond, above, was indeed a towering weight of roiling clouds, chasing the sun and soon to overtake it. Hektor opened his mouth and flinched as a drop of water hit him on his cheekbone, then his nose. He found new words to voice instead of what he'd intended to say.

"We're more exposed up here, what is to keep us drier than the moderate shelter offered by the pines?"

The meadow, after all, was empty aside from the cattle, their neatherd, stones, and Hektor himself. The boy grinned and waved at him.

"This way!" He whistled, though the cows were already moving, and so Hektor slotted himself at the head - behind the child - of a little parade of cattle as they walked up the meadow, to the cliffs at the other end.

Hektor should perhaps have expected the cave, large enough to hold the whole little herd as well as allowing himself and the boy to sit near the entrance, dry enough as the clouds darkened the sky completely and upended their contents. Once again dropping his spears and the rabbits as he sat down, Hektor stared at the view outside. The rain obscured the meadow, leaving on a fuzzy curtain of water to see, and so Hektor glanced to the boy sitting on the ground, legs folded at the ankles and studying him.

"What?" he asked as the child shook his head, and maybe it was only the lack of sharp contrast between light and shadow now that the sun was gone and they were sitting in the softer shadows of the cave, but the boy reminded Hektor of several of his own brothers. "What's your name?"

"Paris," he proclaimed, and then fearlessly - and quite shamelessly, too - peered at Hektor, from his red leather shoes to the heavy fringe along the bottom of his tunic and the sturdy belt, made of good leather and with golden inlays of a double-headed eagle, up to the fillet with its winged sun. "And you, my lord, look like I should be bowing in your presence."

He didn't, to note, and Hektor snorted, more charmed than he would admit. "You probably should, as I am Hektor, son of Priam and Hecuba, but if you should tell me you are the son of some Dardanian noble, it wouldn't surprise me in the least - your looks are those of a prince, not a common cowherd."

"My father's name is Agelaos, no slave, but a common man of Dardanos," Paris said with a shrug, but by his straight back and the sparkle of his eyes, he was undeniably preening for Hektor's judgement of what blood he should have. It seemed improbable, still, that such a plain background should produce a child like that. Thunder followed, startling both of them as well as the cows, the sound so loud the cave rather rung with it and followed near immediately by a thick, branching bolt of lightning across the sky. The flash of over-saturated light threw Paris' awed, wide-eyed little face in sharp relief, and Hektor once against felt as if he was looking at a sibling - one of his sisters, perhaps. The glint of metal ornaments in his lush curls didn't help matters.

"A kind father, surely, if one who indulges your comeliness a bit much." Hektor frowned as he looked Paris over. Honestly, it was a little concerning. Shouldn't Agelaos take more care when Paris carried what little finery he wore as if it might as well be a princess' array of jewels, and his precise way of sitting down had left the bottom of the tunic nicely spread, despite that it should be bunching up, large as it was? Paris was far too aware of himself.

"It makes me feel nice," Paris said, childish pout only making the severity of the words all the more ridiculous. "And my father doesn't really like it, but he doesn't stop me, either."

He looked away, staring out at the rain with the pout lingering on his face. Hektor didn't miss the twitch and shift of his arms that might have been Paris about to pull his legs up against himself, but catching himself before he did so, clearly self-conscious in front of such a well-born stranger despite his bold looks and words so far. Hektor shook his head.

"You should listen to h--- What's this?" Hektor reached out, having to lean over to graze fingertips along a fragile, jutting little collarbone, though that hadn't been his goal. His goal was the thin chain around Paris' neck, disappearing in under the tunic's hem.

"It's mine." Paris leaned away from Hektor, shuffling up against the cave wall, but the entrance was only a little wider than a cow and her calf, and so he didn't get very far without getting up and moving deeper inside the cave.

"It's gold," Hektor said, up on his feet, one hand sweeping down himself, but he hadn't been wearing anything about his neck, only a broad wrist cuff and a couple rings, and the other reaching for Paris. Paris struggled up to his feet, and clearly he wasn't stupid - he whirled around towards the cave's opening, but Hektor lurched forward, grabbed him by the waist and hauled him back.

"Let go! It's not yours!" Paris howled, surprisingly vicious and with quick elbows and hard little fists, more than one that Hektor got to his chin and stomach until he trapped Paris between his legs and against his torso, those maybe eight year old little wrists narrow enough for him to hold him still with one hand long enough to yank the chain out of Paris' tunic. After a moment or two Hektor gave up on pulling it over Paris' head, for his rich crown of curls were far too thick and long for him to easily free it when Paris was still wriggling around.

"Maybe not, but I don't believe it's yours either," Hektor said slowly, staring down at the medallion in his hand.

It was gold, and clearly kept lovingly polished for the shine of it even in the rain-shadowed cave. A double-headed eagle crowned by a winged sun decorated one side, which meant that unless if had come from south of the Troad, by some travelling messenger or noble, perhaps, it must have come from either Capys' or Priam's house.

"It is," Paris insisted, breathless and high, and shoved himself against Hektor so suddenly he almost lost his grip on Paris' wrists. One small, bare foot found his own, and leather wasn't exactly enough to protect against an angry eight year old stomping down. Hektor grunted, but couldn't really make himself discipline his little thief. "My father gave it to me, as a memento of my parents! He found it with me when he picked me up! It's not my fault it looks like your belt."

"... Picked you up?" Hektor asked as he slowly turned the medallion over. The back was smooth, except for the thin, scratchy lines of hieroglyphs messily inscribed there, clearly done well after the medallion had been made. He rubbed his thumb over them, frowning. "... Alexander?"

"You can read?" Paris breathed, and if it weren't for the small foot still digging its heel into Hektor's toes, the wriggle would have been pure excitement.

"I can," Hektor said, lightly - and far too kindly, definitely - jostling Paris with his legs. "Answer me."

"I was abandoned on the mountain in early spring. A bear apparently nursed me! Father said he didn't even have to chase her away, she just moved away when he came across her. And I was wearing that." Paris nodded to the medallion currently held taut away from his neck.

"Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?" Hektor snorted, but he tightened his grip on the medallion. Paris had said it with far too much nonchalance, as if it was something he'd heard many times, and while that could easily be a story made up to make an abandoned child feel better, it didn't change the fact of the existence of the medallion. The bear might be ridiculous, the sort of thing taken from any number of stories of mortal children of gods abandoned by their fearful mothers and nursed by an animal or other until found, but the medallion was mundane. It was the sort of thing you'd leave with a baby, even if you might have chosen to expose it for whatever reason.

The hastily scratched in Alexander on the back made Hektor's stomach churn.

"It's the truth," Paris huffed, stomping his little foot - the one he still had on top of Hektor's own foot.

Hektor closed his eyes as he jostled Paris again, hand so tight about the medallion his knuckles ached. Would his parents expose a child? It wasn't that he had a particularly terrible memory, no matter what Deiphobos might say since he liked to insist he remembered everything from the time he'd learned to walk, which Hektor didn't believe a whit of, but it was harder to remember his mother not being pregnant than whenever she was. He honestly couldn't say if she'd been pregnant or not when he'd been seven. Taking a breath and holding it for a beat or two, Hektor let the medallion drop back against Paris' chest and pulled him back, away from his foot. He did keep a grip on Paris' arms, and straightened up, trying to summon as much princely severity as he was capable of. The fact that Paris, if only for a beat, dipped his head a shade before he stubbornly turned his head and looked away was encouraging.

"We're going to talk to your father. Can I trust you not to run off, if I let go?"

Paris' little mouth wobbled, firmed. He looked back at Hektor with wide, wide eyes, though he tried to straighten up and stick his chin out.

"You're not going to take it? Or hurt my parents?"

Hektor stared at him, and silently admitted he probably deserved that, even if he wasn't sure what Paris thought he could do against a full-grown man. He did have his hunting spears as well as a large knife at his belt, admittedly. So he said nothing in his defense, just sighed. Thankfully it was drowned out by another roll of thunder.

"I'm not. I just want answers, and I think your father can give them."

"Answers for what?" Paris frowned, the lightning - more distant than the first two - throwing him in half relief, shadows stark and his hair a pale halo worthy of any mortal child of a god.

"That's what your father needs to tell me," Hektor said, refusing to consider just yet that maybe it wasn't Paris' father who needed to answer, but rather his own.

#greek mythology #the iliad #trojan war #hector of troy #paris of troy #lightart

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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 4 years

Text

Blue Eyes Part 12

Summary: After the Garrison is shot up, the youngest Shelby daughter finds a new home in London. She strips herself of her last name and tries to live a peaceful life far away from her brothers’ chaos in Birmingham. But fate leads her right back into it after she runs into Alfie Solomons.

Part 12: Ella turns her back to Birmingham and stays with Alfie. But there’s still trouble they cannot shake

It still surprised Alfie to wake up with Ella in bed with him. Even though it had been nearly nine weeks of the routine. He’d been counting, yes. Because every Saturday morning, when he allowed himself to stay in bed a little longer than usual, he remarked at the sight. The next day would be the ninth Saturday.

It gave him time to notice certain things about Ella in a setting he hadn’t seen her in before.

Without fail, she always slept on her side. So there was a fifty percent chance she would be facing him when he woke up. It was one of those mornings. Her hand wedged between her cheek and the pillow, her lips parted slightly as she slept soundly. Her dark hair had grown longer than she usually kept it. It only made sense, she said Ada or Polly usually cut her hair. They always had.

She’d rotate between wearing her slips to bed and swiping one of Alfie’s freshly laundered shirts. He didn’t complain. He liked the way it overwhelmed her smaller frame, grazing mid-thigh, and the sleeves over her hands if she didn’t roll them up.

Alfie didn’t complain about a lot of things those nine weeks. It was comforting to have Ella with him. It had blossomed into a strangely domestic scenario. She never left after the night they reunited. She’d simply gone to work the next day and arrived that night with most of her things.

He didn’t even bat an eye. Because it felt right. More than anything, it was what he craved. The woman he loved always there. Becoming accustomed to her rose and honey perfume and lavender soap, the feminine scents taking a hold of his flat. She arrived home from work far earlier than he did. Sometimes he’d find her in the parlor listening to the radio or already in bed, depending on the time of night.

Alfie would’ve loved to bury his head in the sand and accept that it was heaven. But he couldn’t. The outside world was still threatening to spill into the quiet home they kept.

The Shelbys were still in prison and Alfie could see Ella’s hope waning with each passing day. He saw the uneasiness in her eyes. The distrust of everything around her. Her blue eyes always glancing at the quiet telephone or out the window.

It made Alfie agitated because he couldn’t fulfill her wishes. To make sure her family was spared. The only man who had that power was being an unbearable prick and Alfie was sure he would cause bodily harm the next time their path’s crossed.

Of course, he wouldn’t. He’d bide his time. Wait for Tommy to make a move. Because there was something the Blinder knew that Alfie didn’t. Something brewing on the horizon and only Tommy was at a high enough point to see what it was. And if it involved Tommy, it involved the entire family whether they liked it or not. That meant Ella so inevitably; Alfie would have to gear up for whatever battle. He wouldn’t let Tommy’s past fuck-ups affect her anymore.

All he could do was try to win her trust back, even just the little bit he would allow her. Ella had doubled down on her decisions, cozying up in Camden with Alfie. But she listened. Watched. Waited for that sign that something was amiss. Anticipated the next time he would lie or betray her. Maybe he’d lead the police right back to her. Maybe he’d send her back to her brother. She loved him, enough to believe he wouldn’t do such a thing. But there was once a time she thought her own brother would never let his family go to prison.

As the weeks passed, however, it became increasingly difficult to keep up her guard around him. Not when he was so gentle and cautious around her. With every passing day, she was reminded of why she found him so endearing.

She’d truly laughed for the first time in what felt like ages because of him. When he scolded Cyril in Russian for snatching half a loaf of bread off the kitchen counter. But only a moment later he was sneaking the mastiff table scraps.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They made love for the first time a few days after the seventh Saturday together.

Alfie had returned late from work. It wasn’t strange, but Ella was anxious to see him after a long day of work. She stayed up in bed for a bit before she realized she hadn’t left out anything for Alfie to eat.

Ella wasn’t much of a cook. Not that Alfie seemed to mind much. He often made himself breakfast as he left for work much earlier than she did. And if he did come home early enough for supper, he was more than content with whatever Ella came up with. She learned her way around a kitchen from Polly and Ada. Neither were symbols of a perfect housewife. She certainly could feed a clan of Travelers. Skinning a rabbit seemed much easier than producing grand meals from scratch. It was especially intimidating to consider cooking traditionally Jewish dishes. She thought Alfie might like the gesture, but was terrified to disappoint. How embarrassing would it be to only point out the obvious? That she would never be the Jewish wife his family expected him to have.

She was ruminating on this occurring fear as she cut up a loaf of bread in the kitchen. Cyril stood by her side, his tail wagging expectantly.

When the front door opened, he turned and rushed over to greet Alfie. Ella heard the man quietly greet the dog, his heavy boots joined by Cyril’s paws padding on the hallway floor.

“El?” Alfie looked puzzled to see her still awake.

“I didn’t really make anything for dinner I…” She turned and gasped.

He was sporting a black eye that certainly hadn’t been there that morning. He winced, knowing he wouldn’t have been able to hide it from her even if he tried. “Don’t worry, dealt with the fucker who did it.” It was mildly pleasing to know that the man had a bag of bricks tied to his ankle and dropped into the river. Clean cut. No blood. Wasn’t exactly eye for an eye but Alfie didn’t play that way.

Ella grabbed a cold cloth to give to him. “Put that on it.” She instructed firmly. She had nearly a lifetime’s experience with tending to black eyes both her own and her brothers’.

“What’re you still doing up, love?” He asked, gently pressing the cloth to his bruised eye.

“Well, I’d gone out to dinner earlier with Amelia. I completely forgot to make you anything. If you’d like, I could put something together…”

“Ain’t your job to feed me,” He chuckled and sat down to take off his boots. “Who’da ever thought you’d become such a little domestic mouse after a couple of months?” He teased.

Ella couldn’t help but smile and walked over to unbutton his waistcoat and kiss his forehead. “Well is Cyril going to take care of you?” She murmured back tauntingly. “Because you’ve got a black eye, love.”

“In me own fucking house.” He shook his head and playfully grabbed the skirt of her nightgown. “Toying with me in me own house.”

She giggled and batted his hands away. While leaving the kitchen, she glanced over her shoulder. “Eat something. I’ll draw you a bath. Or would you rather I go to bed?”

“Cheeky girl.” He grunted and stood up. “Go on, I’ll be up in a minute.”

She smiled and headed upstairs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a long soak to ease the ache in his body, Alfie dried off and walked into the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. Ella’s blue eyes followed him across the room as he went to rummage through the dresser.

Maybe it was just timing, but she’d never seen him so vulnerable. Stripped of all the trappings he used to boost his stature. Never seen the tattoos that crawled over the blade of his shoulder, around the cuff, and onto his chest. Symbols, words, letters she didn’t recognize. Scars etched into several places on his body. A new one shown with every movement of his muscles. Some mildly faded nicks. Others angry and deep-set.

It was hard to get over how beautiful he was.

Ella stood from the bed and crossed the floor between them. Alfie heard her shy footsteps on the creaking floor and turned, a shirt in hand. He didn’t speak for a moment and neither did she. Her eyes scanned his torso as if she were cataloging every inch of it.

Alfie’s breath hitched when she reached up and touched his chest. Her eyes found his again.

“You’re not meant to have sex ‘fore marriage in your religion.” She clarified without much context.

He swallowed and shook his head subtly. “No, not really.”

Her fingertips were light against his skin. “How many women have you slept with?”

“I uh…” He wasn’t sure what sort of answer she was looking for. But he decided sticking to the truth was ideal. Probably wouldn’t believe him if he testified he was untouched. “Didn’t keep count.”

Her expression of curiosity didn’t falter. “I’m the last one then.”

Alfie’s pupils blew wide. The unexpected bout of possessiveness from her was indescribable. It was like a hand reaching right into his chest and clutching at his heart. Without a second to spare, he scooped her up in his arms, hands firm on her thighs. “Ain’t ever made love before. Fucked, sure, but never made love.” He walked her to the bed, her arms and legs wrapping around him tightly. Eyes fixed on him. “So you’d be the first and last woman to claim that prize.” A smirk crossed his lips.

“Gladly.” She murmured and kissed him without abandon.

It was like sticking a hand into a fire without getting burned. Ella couldn’t have Alfie close enough. She needed to feel every inch of him against her. Her fingernails dug into his shoulder blades, clinging to him with every movement.

With every flex of muscle, they stoked the fire fostered between them. At the peak, Ella cried out and buried her face into his shoulder. She was trembling so badly, Alfie was terrified he’d hurt her.

When he regained his voice, he drew back and cupped her cheek. “You alright? Did I hurt you?”

Ella laughed breathlessly and released her grip on him. Her fingers carded through his hair. “The complete opposite.” She captured his lips again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

She was beautiful. Alfie couldn’t look at her without thinking that. It made his heartache when he woke up to her beside him. As each Saturday passed, he became more and more comfortable with the idea of forever. Forever having her, forever being hers. Used to be he didn’t know what forever was. That was until he found himself in her eyes.

It was terrifying for a man like him. Someone who didn’t think he deserved forever with someone like her. But she’d firmly rooted herself in his home and his life. And he would never turn her away, not when he knew how devastatingly painful it was.

So every morning, he kissed her forehead and whispered three words.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Around the twelfth Saturday, Alfie noticed Ella was confining herself. For good reason, she hadn’t been back to Birmingham. But she didn’t roam in London. She’d been keeping herself to Camden much to his surprise. It was nice, she told him about the women she’d met including Ollie’s wife.

He wasn’t sure if it was a tactic to try and forget her family. It didn’t seem like a healthy strategy but he wasn’t sure how to bring up the matter. Besides, she appeared happy enough. There were always the subtle hints she unwittingly gave up about her worry. But she would brush him off if he ever inquired if she was okay.

One night, Alfie came home to the house smelling like an actual bakery. Warmth radiated from the kitchen and Ella had the radio loud enough so she could hear it from the parlor.

He greeted Cyril while hanging his coat up. “What’s she up to then?” He asked the mastiff and followed him into the kitchen.

Ella was humming along to the music, subtly dancing around the kitchen. She spun back and forth between the counter and the table. Her curls pinned up to accommodate for the longer length they were. She’d fashioned a small scarf into a headband to hold back any stray pieces of hair. She had what appeared to be a new apron tied around her waist and was wearing one of Alfie’s button-down shirts, the sleeves bunched up around her elbows, and a pair of loose-fitting trousers.

Alfie smiled and snuck up behind her. She shrieked when he tickled her sides. “Alfred Solomons!” She smacked his arm. “Don’t fucking do that when I’ve got a knife in me hand!”

He laughed and surveyed the scene in front of him. “You baking, love?” There was flour everywhere, even in Ella’s dark hair and across her cheek. The scent of bread also wafted from the oven.

She pulled a sour face when she sensed the hint of amusement in his voice. “So what if I am?” Her hands went to her hips.

Alfie wrapped his arms around her waist. “Didn’t think you liked baking, s’all.”

Ella frowned and slung her arms around his neck. “Not much good at it.” She admitted. “Minnie tried teaching me. Says she’ll teach me how to make Challah.”

“That’s nice.” He nodded and recognized the name of one of his neighbors down the street. She was one of the women Ella had befriended. “Made a fucking mess but smells good.” He brushed the flour off her cheek and tried to comb it out of her hair.

She shrugged. “We’ll see how it turns out. Trying to be proper, I s’pose.”

Alfie’s brow furrowed. “That what this is ‘bout?” He tilted her chin up so she couldn’t avoid eye contact. “Love, you don’t need to do all this. You’re not…” He waved a hand around to find the words. “Don’t need you to be like them.”

“Like Minnie?”

“Right. I know that’s not you. Don’t have to pretend to be something you’re not, right, if ya just trying to please me. Love you the way you are.”

Ella stuck out her lower lip, her eyes flicked sheepishly away from his face. “Just thought you’d…I dunno.”

Alfie reached around her waist to untie the apron, slipping it off and tossing it onto the flour-covered counter. He took her hand and coaxed her into the parlor where the music was loudest.

She pouted but accepted the gesture and followed him down the hall. Her arms slipped back around him as he pulled her into a slow dance. Her cheek pressed into his shoulder.

“Me mum, yeah, wanted me to marry a good Jewish woman. Someone to take care of the house, cook Kosher, pop out Jewish babies. If I wanted that, I would’ve tried to find someone like that long time ago, right? But I didn’t because I were looking for you, weren’t I?”

Ella smiled slightly. “Looking for trouble? ‘Cause that’s all I am.”

“Trouble or not, you’re fucking worth it, ain’t ya?” He grazed his lips over her temple.

“Alfie, I’m afraid.” She admitted in a voice just loud enough to hear over the music.

“Afraid of what, love?”

She chewed on her lip and listened to his heartbeat for a moment before she answered. “I’m afraid of what’s to come and how it’s gonna affect us. Something’s coming, I know it is.”

After speaking to Tommy weeks earlier, Alfie agreed with her. There certainly was something in the air. “We’ll be okay.” He murmured. “Won’t let anything happen to you, yeah?”

“Just want to stay like this.” Uncertainty made her voice waver. “Please let it stay like this, Alfie.”

He tightened his arms around her to comfort her. “Sh, sh, s’alright. It’ll be alright.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Every Wednesday afternoon, Ella would travel down the street to Minnie’s flat. There, she would hold tea for the friend group. The location never varied. Minnie was one of the few women in the group who didn’t have children. So the rest of the group took the afternoon as a welcomed break from the kids. Either they were in school, or they would drop them off at a relative’s house for a few hours. Sometimes, they’d bring the kids along, letting them play with toys in Minnie’s parlor while they talked in the adjoining kitchen.

Ella adored all of the children the women had. Ollie and Elsie had four kids ranging from even to eight months. Ruth had a two-year-old daughter who was her entire world. Annie was pregnant with her first, having only just gotten married. Nora was also pregnant but with her third child, already having two young boys. And finally, Lydia, the oldest of the group, took home the prize of most children with six little ones.

Every opportunity, Ella took to babysit. She missed her nieces and nephews, wishing she could see them again. It wasn’t their fault the family had been torn apart. She’d made note of Charlie’s birthday and had cried when she realized how long it had been since she’d seen him.

Still, she kept her sanity despite the seemingly irredeemable loss of her family. The relationships with the Camden women and women from work helped. Along with Alfie, they reminded her that she had a choice of who her family was. Last names didn’t matter one bit.

On Wednesdays, Ella left work early, freshened up at home and headed over to Minnie’s. Sometimes she brought along baked goods she had tried to make. It was usually just to ask Minnie what she’d done wrong because they didn’t quite taste as good as they did when they’d made the same thing together.

She adored the small, tight-knit group of women and was grateful they had been so welcoming to her. It did help that most of them were wives of men who worked for Alfie. Some women in Camden would hardly look at Ella not because of her lack of religion, but because of her affiliation with the gangster boss.

They were quite different from the women she’d been raised with. They were modern women in an orthodox community. Their hair was covered because of their marital status, never wore trousers, they attended temple without fail, and were devoted to their husbands. They were the kind of Jewish women that Alfie’s mother probably wanted him to marry. But times were changing and they’d secured some freedoms. Among friends, they were chatty and loved to have a good laugh. They tittered about topics that most men would deem inappropriate for women. Some even had a good deal to say about the current climate. But it was all good fun.

They especially liked having Ella around. The Shelby girl was extremely interesting to them both because of her different upbringing and her unorthodox relationship with Alfie. The women were careful not to discuss the Shelby family. Ella had been clear that she no longer associated with them and would rather not go into too much detail about the situation. Minnie, the one closest to Ella, knew a bit more than the rest of the group. Ella had confided in her about the actions Tommy took to get her arrested. Also how her family was still facing the death sentence.

But they did hawk her about Alfie. Most of them had known him for a very long time but only knew him as the gruff, intimidating man who had violent tendencies towards his enemies and questionable morals. None of them ever expected him to find someone to love.

~~~~~~~~~~~`

“My mother would always steer me away from him.” Ruth wrapped her hands around the warm teacup. “You should’ve seen him before the war, El, just a troublemaker.”

Ella smiled and tried to imagine her Alfie as a young man. Clean-shaven, thin, always scuffed up from a fight or arrest. “Why am I not even surprised?” It was sound. Men like Alfie always got their start on the streets. All of the Shelby children did. The Italians did as well. The rejected bits of society. The bottom of the pyramid, the people the elite snubbed and continued kicking to the dirt. Most took their fate with stride. Others refused to accept it. A poor Jewish boy, a poor Irish Traveler, poor Italian immigrants. They simply kept getting up, dusting themselves off, and raising more and more hell. Louder and louder until they were impossible to ignore.

“Such a little hellraiser.” Nora agreed. “The police all knew him by first and last name. They knew his mother’s name too.”

“Do you remember when he came back from France?” Minnie set down a plate stacked with treats.

“Sure, he came back the same day David did,” Nora answered. “Saw him at the train station. Something different about him, but they all changed when they were over there.” She shrugged.

Ella nodded, her eyes glancing down at the tea in front of her. She hadn’t noticed how she was absent-mindedly stirring the tea for much longer than needed. “He never even dated anyone?” She wondered. Alfie hadn’t gone into detail about his past relationships. Neither of them had decided it was important enough to discuss. They didn’t realize that neither of them had ever held a serious relationship.

The women chuckled in response. “There isn’t much dating here,” Elsie explained. “Usually your parents make the arrangement.”

“Oh…” Ella tilted her head to the side. “That’s usually how gypsy clans do it too.” She admitted and thought about what Alfie had said a while back. About how her brother was ready to offer her up to another family. Maybe one of the Lees or the Youngs.

“He’s had his good share of fine women from France.” Annie hid her smile into her teacup.

The women laughed and Ella looked amused. The comment didn’t faze her. “Oh, I’m sure. We’ve had the discussion about our purity. Or lack thereof.”

They all shared a sly look. “And I’m sure he’s given you the spiel that sex before marriage is never explicitly forbidden in the Torah.” Annie giggled and nudged Ella’s arm.

Her face turned red. “Well, no he didn’t mention that specifically. Just said it wasn’t really proper.” She shrugged meekly.

“Alfie does what he likes.” Minnie sighed and shook her head. “He always has, but you’d have to be blind to miss the way he looks at you. Didn’t think he had that sort of affection for anyone.”

It warmed Ella’s heart to think about the subtle smile he tried to hide whenever he looked her way. Minnie was right; it was damn near impossible to miss the softening of his features, the way his muscles slightly relaxed, and the fondness written in his eyes. “He is much more than his reputation. We’ve had our ups and downs…but he is a good man.” She smiled sheepishly. “I ought to think he likes me if he’s stuck around this long.”

Ruth chuckled. “Are you mad? He’s crazy for you. Surprised he hasn’t swept you off to get married.”

Ella tapped her heel against the leg of her chair and clicked her tongue. “Well, since I’m not Jewish…I dunno.” It was so easy to forget the clear lines of division between her and the rest of the Camden community. When they welcomed her with open arms, she could disregard their differences. But something would always pop back up to remind her. “We haven’t spoken about it since I’ve moved here.” She purposefully left out the part when Tommy tried to barter her hand for loyalty.

Minnie rolled her eyes. “Again, the man does what he likes, love. He’s not exactly what I would call a traditional man.”

“He’ll probably bribe Rabbi Halberg.” Lydia joked.

They shared a laugh but Ella shook her head. “No, no, I wouldn’t want to disrespect anyone. We’ll just have to make do I suppose.”

“His brother married a catholic girl,” Annie recalled. “Before he and Alfie went to fight in France. Actually…no, did Joseph fight in France?”

Ruth frowned as she searched her memory. “He enlisted far sooner than Alfie did, even before the war started. He was older. I believe he was shipped further East.”

“Perhaps. Well anyway,” Annie waved off the minor detail. “He met a nurse and married her just months after they met. Don’t believe they had much of a ceremony, just went to the court to have the marriage licensed.”

“Oh, but what’s the fun in that?” Nora frowned. “I want to dress her up!”

Ella laughed but cringed a little. It was a nice fantasy, dressed in white, walking down the aisle with flowers and the whole shebang. But it just didn’t seem plausible. Maybe she lost the desire when they argued about it after Tommy’s proposition. Their relationship wasn’t standard so they wouldn’t follow standard procedures. “I don’t think Alfie would want a large ceremony anyway. Besides, I never saw myself as marriage material. Minnie knows, I’m shit at cooking and I’m messier than Alfie and Cyril combined.”

“He doesn’t want a housewife. Just a wild Shelby girl to call his own.” Nora assured her. “He’ll just want to put a massive rock on your finger and brag about you. He loves you and men in love are very foolish. They’ll act like circus clowns, flipping over backward for your affection. And when they’ve got it, they’ll do everything they can to keep you happy. Not to mention he’ll want to show off a beauty like yourself.”

The women agreed and teased Ella over her face turning bright pink. “Like Ollie. Elsie, tell her the story.” Ruth prompted.

Elsie grinned and shook her head. “Talk about a fool. When we met for the first time he was so nervous. I thought he was going to faint!”

“And your father was afraid he’d made the wrong choice!”

The women continued on, telling Ella about the first time they'd met their husbands. She smiled and laughed along with them but in the back of her mind, she wondered about what the future held for her and Alfie.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Monday evening, Ella was walking home from work. Alfie wasn’t fond of the arrangement. He offered to have a car pick her up to and from work, but she brushed off his concern. She had to remind him that she’d been walking city streets on her own for a very long time, both Birmingham and London. Safe to say, she won that battle and enjoyed the walk to and from work.

It was nearing dusk and it was a mild night out. She was getting close to Camden Town, only a few blocks away from the flat she now called home. It was quiet out, only a few other people making the commute home as well.

“Miss Shelby!” An unfamiliar voice from behind called her name.

Ella paused and turned.

A man in a nondescript, heavy black coat and derby hat approached her. She didn’t recognize him from anywhere. Not as one of Alfie’s men or a Blinder. If Tommy were having her followed, then they wouldn’t outright address her.

“Pardon, do I know you?” She kept her guard up, her hand subtly tucking into her coat where her small handgun was kept.

“We haven’t met before.” He pulled out a badge to show her. “Inspector Ian Blackwell of Scotland Yard.” He introduced himself.

“Uh-huh.” It didn’t matter whether he was actually from the Yard or pretending to be. Either way, she was wary. “Can I help you with something?”

“I’m sure you can.” His smile was unnerving. Strangely arrogant and yet secretive. “You’re the younger sister of Arthur, Thomas, and John Shelby? The niece of Mrs. Polly Gray?” He asked.

“I’ve no ties with my family anymore.” She replied frigidly and kept her distance from him. “I haven’t spoken to any of them in months.”

“I’m sure you haven’t. All of them were in jail, save for Thomas.” Inspector Blackwell tucked his badge away.

The corner of Ella’s mouth twitched as she tried to keep her surprise under wraps. “So they’ve been released?”

“You didn’t know?”

She wasn’t fooled. That was a tried and true Shelby response to an interrogation. Answer questions with more questions. “If they’re not in prison anymore, Inspector, then why are you so curious about them?”

He chuckled and stepped towards her. “What about a Mr. Alfie Solomons? What do you know about him?”

Ella leaned away from him, trying to keep her distance without stepping back. She didn’t want him to know she was uneasy in his presence. “That name is unfamiliar to me.”

“Really?” An amused glint passed over his face. “Shouldn’t you know the name of the man you’ve been living with for months?”

“This conversation is over, Mr. Blackwell.” She hissed and went to turn away from him.

Before she could reach for her pistol, the much bigger man snatched her by the arm. He wrenched her towards him and tilted his head down to whisper in her ear. “I don’t like people like you, Miss Shelby. Think you’re above the law because you’re fucking a gangster. If you make this difficult for me, rest assured I’ll make you pay. Or, you can comply and I’ll spare you.”

“Or I can shoot you square between the eyes.” She replied in a cold voice. Her blue eyes glared back at him, refusing to show him any fear. “Do you know what’ll happen after that?”

His jaw clenched but he didn’t respond.

“I’ll let you know.” Her eyes narrowed. “I shoot you, spray your brains all over the street, leave you to bleed out like the pig you are. No one calls the police. Instead, four men arrive after I’ve gone. Jewish men. Very honorable men. They pick you up and bring you to a bakery down the street. They cut you into pieces, remove your teeth, burn off your fingertips, and pack you up into sacks. Around midnight, they take those sacks to the cut. Weigh them down with bricks. Come morning, there isn’t a trace of you. One could argue you never even existed. Your little friends can come here and ask what happened, but no one will know. You were never here. They’ve never heard of you. Then like that you’ve disappeared.”

“You bitch…”

“Thing is, Mr. Blackwell, it doesn’t matter who I’m fucking. Doesn’t matter who my family is. At the end of the day, I’m just as dangerous as they are.”

“You and your dirty gypsy kin will hang.” The inspector snarled and tightened his grip on her arm.

“We control the ropes, inspector. We decide who hangs.”

“Miss Shelby?” One of the young men who worked for Alfie, Ben, was walking down the street. He paused when he saw the woman being accosted by the much taller man. “What’s going on?”

The inspector loosened his grip and Ella took the opportunity to rip away from him. “This is Scotland Yard business, none of your concern.” He snapped.

“You’re in Camden, anything ‘round here is Alfie Solomons’s business.” Ben reached a hand towards the gun tucked in his belt. “So I suggest you move along and leave Miss Shelby alone.”

Blackwell narrowed his eyes but took a step back to show he was surrendering, even for just a moment. “Was only asking her a few questions, I'm well within my rights.”

Ella moved to stand closer to Ben. “Will you walk me home?” She asked him quietly. Her eyes didn’t move from the detective, making sure he didn’t make any sudden movements.

“Of course.” Ben nodded and gave the inspector one last glance.

“I’ll be seeing you again soon, Miss Shelby,” Blackwell said with a hint of malicious glee in his voice. Despite her threats, he gave her a smug smirk before turning to walk away.

“C’mon, let’s get you to the bakery.” Ben touched her arm to guide her in the opposite direction. “Alfie’ll want to hear what happened right away.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alfie was very interested in what the inspector had to say. But he flew into quite a fit before Ella had the chance to give him specifics. Once he heard that Ella had been stopped by someone from Scotland Yard, he dished out orders. Several men were set out to see if they could track down the inspector and others swept out to see if there were any other cops that were unfamiliar to the area.

“If you find that fucker, you bring him back here so I can deal with him properly,” Alfie demanded before slamming the office door behind him.

Ella was curled up in his leather chair, concern etched into her face. “Alfie, I didn’t mean to cause all this stir.” She said quietly. "I'm afraid I might've riled him up a little. He wasn't the only one tossing 'round threats." She admitted.

“No, no.” He shook his head and rounded the desk. “’Nough of that, love. None of this is your fault.” He knelt down in front of her and took her hands. “Did he hurt you at all?”

She shook her head. “No. He grabbed me but it’s nothing.” Her hand subconsciously rubbed the bruised area on her arm. “He knew about us…knew about my family. Alfie, they’ve been released from prison.”

His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Must’ve been recent, haven’t heard anything ‘bout that.”

“Things won’t be able to go back to normal.” Her eyes gazed off, blankly staring at the filing cabinets. “I’m glad they’re safe but…what did Tommy do to get them out of prison? Why did he arrange it all to begin with?”

“S’pose that’s what that inspector is trying to figure out,” Alfie suggested with a slight shrug. His thumb grazed back and forth over the top of her hand, trying to calm them both down.

“If the Yard’s questioning me then they’re questioning everyone. I bet they can’t even get to Tommy though.” She muttered. Her brother always had a tendency to avoid consequences.

It was reasonable to assume Scotland Yard wanted to figure out what went wrong. Wanted to know how the members of the Shelby family just simply walked. But Alfie was not willing to let Tommy involve Ella in his mess again. Even if that meant keeping the Yard away from her. “I’ll handle it, love,” Alfie promised her.

“This isn’t about you. This is Tommy’s doing, he should have to handle it. I’m sick of feeling the aftershocks of his decisions.”

He clasped her hands in his. “This Blackwell, he mentioned me too, didn’t he?”

Ella nodded hesitantly.

“So then it’s ‘bout me. I’ll handle it.” He insisted firmly, holding her gaze. “El, I know that you’ve lost the trust of everyone including me. ‘N maybe I’ll never win it back. The only thing I can do is show that I’ll take care of you. ‘Cause I will. No matter what I’ll take care of you.”

She leaned forward to hug him. “I wish I could be different for you.” Her voice broke. The fearlessness she’d shown in front of the inspector was beginning to fade. Those days, there was only one person she showed her vulnerability to. And he was holding her close.

“Love, I don’t want you to be any different than you are right now.” He murmured.

Ella buried her face in the crook of his neck, refusing to let go. “If I were different, your life would be so much easier.” She argued glumly.

“If you were different, yeah, then we wouldn’t have fallen in love. Then me life would be fucking miserable, wouldn’t it?” He stroked her hair back and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Love you just the way you are and that ain’t ever going to change.”

She whimpered a disagreement but was too tired to fight. Instead, she leaned into his arms, letting him take some of the weight from her shoulders. Her eyes closed and she honed in on his breathing.

“Don’t worry about this, okay? I’ll take care of everything.”

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