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zalrb · 3 years

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i watched tvd for the first time last year with my friend (she'd already seen 4 seasons while it was on air but stopped) when we finished it she sent me some of your posts because they were EVERYTHING we were ranting about and discussing throughout the show lol and then we read your fanfiction. i adore your stories and the way you write! i was wondering if you could pick 3 moments of angst, 3 moments of fluff, 3 moments of smut from stelena fics that you're really proud of, which would those be?

ooh, thank you! and hmm, great question.

3 moments of angst

1. Basement scene, "Just This Night"

“Stefan…”

He picked a bottle and stared at it but didn’t turn around.

“Stefan.”

He didn’t answer her and stood still.

Elena walked down the last three steps. “Can’t you even look at me?”

“No,” he said finally.

Elena felt a pang in her chest. “Don’t say that,” she said. “Please don’t say that, Stefan, I—-”

“I can’t look at you,” he said. “Because every time I do look at you, I see him all over you and it makes me want to set the house on fire.”

Elena opened her mouth to say something but couldn’t find any words that would rectify the situation.

“Every time I look at you, this morning plays over and over in my head and I want to get black-out drunk just to forget it. Every time I look at you and see his mouth on you, I want to bash Damon’s head into a wall over and over again and the guilt of that, the shame of that, is suffocating so no, Elena, I can’t look at you because looking at you kills me.”

“I’m sorry,” she managed to say. “I’m really, really sorry, Stefan, I shouldn’t have done it.”

“That’s the thing, you should’ve,” said Stefan. “You two are together, you’re married."

2. Zip-up scene, The Problem Is...

Stefan ventured further into the room and as he approached her, Elena turned toward the mirror again; she sensed his presence at her back and shivers erupted along her spine and arms, even her legs. Slowly, he began to zip up her dress and Elena closed her eyes as she felt his lips brush the nape of her neck, just barely grazing her so that her body was aching with the frustrating pleasure of near-contact. When he was done fastening her dress, Stefan’s hands slipped up from the material, onto her bare back; his fingertips were gentle whispers on her shoulders, lightly stroking her skin and her lips parted, her breath caught in her throat, her heart rate increased…

Elena sighed his name. “Stefan.” She faced him, leaning into his body and immediately, he put his arms around her and she folded into his embrace, clutching onto his jacket. “I missed you.”

“I missed you,” he said and he held her even tighter, his mouth atop her head, in her hair. Elena blinked slowly in comfort, in relief and her hands slipped up to his chest and she pulled away slightly so that she could look directly at him. After a moment she lowered her gaze to his lips. Stefan paused, an expression of conflict passing over his face, and then he closed his eyes and pulled away further so that their embrace was almost broken.

“We can’t,” he said.

“I know,” she said. “I know.”

3. "Marry him" scene, Painted Altar

Stefan didn’t say anything for what felt like a long time. He continued to gaze at Elena in her dress, his eyebrows furrowed, his jaw clenched and his eyes red and anguished. He allowed himself one minute to envision himself downstairs waiting at the end of the aisle with a rose in his lapel and two men standing next to him; one minute to see himself in his mind’s eye, waiting with the excited urge to bounce on the balls of his feet, his face alight with joy; one minute to indulge in the beautiful fantasy of waiting for Elena Gilbert to walk down toward him to be his wife for eternity. Then he closed his eyes and breathed a tortured sigh.

“I think,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I think you should marry him, Elena.”

“You what?”

“I think you should marry him,” he repeated. His tone was more urgent now, desperate. “You said it yourself. You said that you loved him—”

“It’s not enough!” said Elena incredulously. “It’s never been enough.”

“It was enough for you to stay with him for three years,” said Stefan harshly.

Elena put her hands to her head and clutched her hair. “Why can’t you just let yourself be happy?”

“That’s Damon.”

“No,” said Elena. “Damon … he struggles with responsibility and someone loving him, someone expecting things from him? The responsibility of that freaks him out.”

“And being with you helped him overcome that.”

“And you,” said Elena, speaking over him. “You don’t think you’re being responsible unless you’re unhappy. You don’t think you’re being a good man unless you deny yourself what you want.” Elena looked at him, her eyes pleading and Stefan turned away.

“He’ll know, you know,” said Elena suddenly. “He’ll know that I’m unhappy and that will ruin him.”

“You would never tell him,” said Stefan at once. “And he doesn’t know now.”

“Of course he does,” said Elena. “We fight about you more than we fight about anything else, I just keep denying all of his suspicions. Our bond … it can’t be ignored, Stefan. Not by anyone.”

Elena started to approach him but Stefan took a step back, moving so that he was in front of the painted altar. He couldn’t bear for Elena to touch him in that dress, it would kill him.

“Elena, please,” he begged.

She didn’t listen and came toward him, his eyes closed and his face turned away from her but Elena put her palms on the sides of his face and brought his gaze to her. “Stefan,” she said. “Stefan. I love you. OK? We can’t hide from this anymore.”

Stefan leaned forward and kissed her hard on the lips, one hand on her cheek, the other on her back, feeling the corset ties that fastened her dress. He tortured himself with the taste of her tongue, the softness of her lips; utterly ripped himself apart with rediscovering the feeling of coming home, of finding solace and thrill in her arms, in their hold. Elena threw her arms around Stefan’s neck, melding into his body, arching her back to push herself deeper into the kiss, into him, their embrace an eternalized moment beneath the painted altar.

“If you really love me,” said Stefan between kisses, his breathing ragged, his eyes finally giving way to tears, his lips swollen and burning, his hands trembling against Elena’s face. “If you really love me you’ll marry him. You’ll do that for me. Elena, please.” He kissed her again, closing his eyes, feeling more tears stream down his face. “Please.”

3 moments of smut

1. Bloodshare, Counterpoints

At that moment Elena sunk her fangs into Stefan’s neck and felt him his readiness intensify beneath her. He let out a groan that reverberated throughout her bones and that made her suck harder, causing him to moan louder. His cries made her itch her tongue above his wound as she drank and he squeezed her in response. Elena sighed, relishing the intensity of his pleasure; it was a gateway into how he felt, what he felt, into his fears and dreams, his hopes, his disappointments, his priorities, his arousals, into his very being and Elena revelled in it. Without warning, Elena felt fangs pierce into her back just behind her shoulder and she mewled as she fed; stricken with a pleasure that brought her to an immediate climax that shattered her completely and that didn’t stop, but that erupted in wave after wave after wave after …

2. Library scene, The Problem Is (because I had to do an Atonement-esque scene, dammit)

he moved her across the room until her back was against a bookcase. The hardcover spines dug uncomfortably into Elena’s skin but she couldn’t have cared less not with Stefan pressed against her, his kiss reckless, almost wild, almost reverent.

“I want to see you,” he gasped and he undid his mask, letting it fall indelicately to the floor, by his feet so that he stepped on it when he melded into Elena again. Her hands were everywhere on his body, gripping his neck, gliding down his back, combing through his hair and she pushed him to her so that his body was pressed even harder against hers. Months of restraint, of lingering stares and unspoken wishes, were coming undone in this moment, being fully realized in this embrace.

Elena slipped her hands beneath Stefan’s jacket and slid it off so that it fell to the floor, feeling his muscular arms through his shirt and beneath her palms. She loosened his tie, ridding it from his neck and undid his collar so that she could kiss him along his throat, listening as he sighed appreciatively. Her fingers made quick work of the rest of his buttons while she felt his hands on the back off her dress, undoing the zipper, his lips grazing across her shoulders. Elena pulled away, panting heavily, catching her breath, and started to fumble with Stefan’s fly but he growled in impatience and brought her lips to his again, lifting her so that her legs were wrapped around his middle and so that she was half-sitting on one of the shelves, some of the books falling to the floor with loud clunks. Her dress was pooled around her waist now and Stefan’s mouth was on her throat, her chest, between her breasts, his hands kneading her back, unbuckling her bra and Elena gasped, clutching one of the shelves above her head. Stefan reached up and put his hand over hers, their fingers entwined. Elena felt him hard between her thighs and she moaned, longing for this; she longed for this with her entire body, it was excruciating.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” she whispered.

Stefan wrenched away from her and looked up into her eyes, his breathing ragged and his gazed aroused and raw and … tormented.

“What?” said Elena breathlessly. “Stefan, what is it?”

“Elena, I can’t,” he said. “You have no idea what it’s like, to want you like this, to crave you like this but I can’t do this and see him everyday, I can’t go further than—”

She kissed him, her lips soft, her mouth hard. “We won’t,” she said, panting. “We won’t go further than this. I just…” She pushed her lips against his again, putting new meaning behind it, kissing him fiercely, sadly, with want for more. She breathed into his ear. “Stefan, I—” He pulled away from her and burrowed his face into Elena’s neck, his hands skating over her skin, losing himself in the taste of her, the smell of her, anguished with self-control, keeping himself from getting lost completely like wanted, like she wanted. He wrecked himself with the feel of her, his hand squeezing hers against the bookshelf, her fingers digging into his knuckles

3. Reunion sex, What's A Soulmate?

This was too much. Too — she — he — Elena forgot how to speak, how to think, how to breathe. Her body convulsed in waves of pleasure so penetrating that she didn’t know how she could possibly not die.

It felt like — she felt like — he — they —

The clatter echoed in Stefan’s ears but he couldn’t stop feeding, he couldn’t stop moving; Elena was everywhere on him and he was revelling in her essence, her very being, she’d allowed him that access, he was alive to experience that access and that was — it was — he was —

Stefan’s body tremored with the same severity it trembled from before and he quickly extended his arm, turning his hand into a fist, and he crashed it down on the carpet, creating a hole through the material and through the wood; the impact of his punch splintered the floor throughout the living room. His other hand reached for the leg beneath the couch, his hips rotating, his tongue lapping, Elena’s blood on his tongue, her legs around his waist, her moan in his ear —

“Stefan…”

He thrust into Elena hard and deep, clenching the wooden couch leg in his hand, splintering it in his hold so that the couch became lopsided.

3 moments of fluff

1. Taking care of drunk Elena drabble

Stefan grinned as he made it back to the bed. “Sit up? Arms up.”

Elena raised herself into an upright position and lifted her arms. Stefan swiftly slid off her tank top and dressed Elena in his shirt, gently putting her arms through the sleeves.

“What about my jeans?” she said.

Stefan tried not to laugh at Elena’s drunken attempt at a seductive expression.

“Miss Gilbert, are you trying to seduce me?”

She smiled in triumph. “It’s working, right?”

Stefan moved so his face was only a breath away from hers. “Absolutely.” He kissed her forehead and helped her inch out of her pants, then picked up her tank top and put her clothes on a nearby chair.

As he opened the decanter of water sitting on the table next to the armchair, Elena bunched the front of Stefan’s shirt into her fist and bent her head to inhale the scent of the material.

“I love wearing your shirts,” she said.

“I know,” said Stefan, pouring her a glass of water. “You’ve stolen about five.”

“Seven, actually.”

Stefan put the water on the nightstand and then lay Elena down. “I love sleeping in them even if I’m home and you’re not there,” she sighed, wrapping her arms around a pillow.

“Seven shirts? I consider that larceny.”

“I don’t care,” she said, hugging the pillow tighter.

2. Food fight, Only If For A Night

Whoosh. Hiss. Sizzle.

Stefan broke away and looked behind him to the stove. The pot with the spaghetti was overflowing. He rushed back over and lifted it off the burner, draining the pasta in the strainer.

“You’re distracting me. You can’t be in the kitchen,” he said.

“But I like watching you cook.”

“Then you have to watch. Stay there.”

“But I can’t see from over here. Let me help.”

“Remember the last time?”

“The fire extinguisher was right there! Come on, I can do something.”

Stefan turned his head to look at her, she looked back.

“Fine. Come here.”

Elena grinned and skipped over to the counter by the stove.

“You can start on dessert. Work the dough with your hands.”

Elena shifted over to the sink and rinsed her hands beneath the faucet, wiping them off on a tea towel, and then she dug her hands into the silver bowl in front of her, kneading the dough.

“Like this?”

Stefan glanced over to what she was doing then turned the heat down on all of the burners and moved from the stove to the counter. He stood behind Elena, his front pressed against her back and he put his hands in the bowl with hers, their fingers entwining as they both massaged the dough. After a while, Elena hooked some on her index finger then turned around slightly to smear it beneath Stefan’s nose, giving him a moustache.

“There,” she said, barely containing her laughter. “Much better. You look so much more sophisticated with a moustache.”

Stefan stared seriously at her for a minute and then abruptly grabbed fistfuls of dough and slathered it in her hair.

“STEFAN!” Laughing, he used his speed to zoom away from her as Elena reached for the cutting board and hurtled diced onions and tomatoes and parsley at him by the handful. Quickly, she opened the fridge, taking out a bottle of Heinz and raced toward Stefan, squeezing all of the ketchup onto his head. Stefan retaliated by grabbing clumps of the spaghetti and throwing it at her. They continued to run around the kitchen, their bodies a blur of speed, chucking fruits at each other, spraying condiments on one another, dumping juices and sodas on each other until they were grimed and slicked with food. Breathless and exhilarated, Elena hid behind the breakfast counter, stooped low as Stefan stood in the kitchen.

3. Wind Down, Confrontations

Stefan nodded and then eyed the packages surrounding Elena. She shrugged. “I told you I could break him,” she said.

Stefan grinned an walked over to the bed, falling flat onto the mattress.

Elena put her hand atop his head, lightly brushing his hair. When he looked up at her, she took out another marshmallow and put in between her teeth. Stefan leaned forward.

“That’s why I only put five packs in the cupboard,” he murmured. He sunk his teeth into the other end of the marshmallow so that his lips pressed against Elena’s, kissing her.

“Where are the rest?” she said, smiling, but Stefan kept kissing her until she started to giggle.

“Tell me!”

He shook his head. “I’ll never surrender.”

Elena kissed him again, deeper this time, and he responded with an enthusiasm that made it clear his passion from this morning hadn’t left him. She felt herself beginning to sink into him, felt herself itching for more and didn’t know if she’d be rational enough to stop herself when she’d already delayed their gratification a few hours earlier.

Luckily, Stefan pulled away just an inch, his chest heaving with unfulfilled desire, eyes hungry and aroused and happy. But there was something else there too; Elena could feel it. It was only a second but he had that silence to him that consumed him sometimes, when the demons of his past

“How was your day?”

Stefan sighed and then rolled over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. He reached beside him and stroked Elena’s arm.

“I have to go to Syracuse,” he said.

*BONUS FOR ANGST*

Wedding Scene, Endure Choices

Caroline made it to the altar and Stefan took her by the hand as she moved to stand in front of him. He could see Elena in the periphery, just behind Caroline and a little to the right. Her head was turned toward them like the other bridesmaids but her eyes were lowered. Stefan looked back to Caroline who was smiling incredulously. She put her hand on his cheek.

“Aww, your face is red,” she said. “Are you going to cry?”

“No,” Stefan whispered. He smiled. “I won’t cry, I promise.”

She giggled.

Damon started the proceedings and something within Elena shrunk painfully, there was a weight on her chest that made her want to sink onto the floor. It hurt her to be so devastated with grief on her best friend’s wedding day and she wanted to the ceremony to be over so she could feel ashamed in private, so she could endure the extent of her sorrow alone because watching the two of them together opened within her a wound beyond healing

“The couple has prepared their own vows…”

Elena closed her eyes at the words. Is this what she woke up for? To suffer for a choice she thought she needed to make but that only caused her massive destruction.

“Oops.”

Caroline fumbled with the piece of paper she’d written her vows on and it fell to the floor. When she bent to pick it up, Elena took this moment to glance at Stefan. Just once. When he wasn’t paying attention. She lifted her head slightly to gaze at him and saw that he was already looking at her, raw-eyed and clenched jaw. Her lips parted. Something within her contracted. And she felt the tears before she knew what was happening; she didn’t sniffle or blubber, she merely cried silently, stoically, accepting the warm streaks down her face.

The emotion that had been swelling in Stefan’s chest burst beyond repression and a tear dropped from his eye as he watched Elena cry. Caroline stood back up, blocking most of Elena from Stefan. She looked at him.

“You did cry,” she said.

“Sorry,” he gasped as another tear fell. “I am so sorry.”

Caroline smiled and started to read her vows as Stefan and Elena kept each other in their sights, staring at one another through the corners of their eyes, as one tear fell after the other.

Damon turned to Stefan. “Brother, your turn.”

Stefan’s eyes fluttered. He refocused his attention to Caroline who beamed at him. “Caroline, I …” He pressed his lips together.“I am not a perfect man and I never want to hurt you. Ever. You’ve seen me through so much. So I … I vow to you today to do everything in my power to be the man that you deserve…”

Elena chewed on her bottom lip as another tear fell, the salty sadness stinging her tongue. Stefan powered through even though he was torn inside with longing and guilt and shame and sadness.

At the back of the venue, behind the guests, two people listened to the ceremony with lazy expressions; one was picking at her nails and the other was eating some of the wedding cake with his fingers.

“I have to say, I’m disappointed. All I heard in Hell were stories about the Infamous Katherine Pierce and your flare for making an entrance. All you did was wake up Elena Gilbert. Not to brag, but the last time I crashed a wedding, the bride died and so did, like, fifty guests. This is just boring.”

Katherine turned to Kai. “This is more personal than that. I don’t just want to kill them for what they did to me, I want to destroy their lives and everyone knows, including Caroline but she’s just being an idiot, that Stefan Salvatore and bland, simple, self-righteous Little Miss Elena Gilbert are each other’s One True Loves. They will never get over each other. And nothing pleases me more than Stefan watching Elena watch him marry her best friend while Damon watches Elena’s reaction to Stefan marrying Caroline and Caroline being Caroline and burying her head in the sand, acting like none of this is happening. It’s going to rip them all apart until finally one of them snaps and I’m going to be there when that happens. They’re going to destroy themselves over this little love rhombus and then when they’ve psychologically and emotionally torn each other to shreds, I will kill them all.”

#stelena #stelena fanfiction

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peakatseven · 3 years

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MICHAAAA CONGRATULATIONS

🌕 broke a finger knocking on your bedroom door I got splinters in my knuckles crawling across the floor

andddd

🎸 haunted

this bitch really came for me asking for a story AND a cover of such a hard song to sing. okay thanks i guess.

nah im just kidding babe i had so much fun writing this! i feel like it’s the first time in years that i’m posting proper fanfiction? kind of? idk i was trying to find another name for the mc but i kept picturing frat boy harry so here we go:

Concentration is impossible when the silence is loud and the work is important. The worst part is when one starts thinking about the need of being concentrated, rather than the actual work that needs to be done. As a university student, Harry was no different than most: his anxiety about school and his future co-existed with the emotional backlash of relationships and the need to "experience the best years of your life". There were few people with whom he wouldn't worry about meeting some kind of expectation. But she had been silent with him for the better part of a year. Images of Caro kept coming back to him, a trauma he couldn't let go off. Granted, it was the one painful brake up he'd experienced, one that was never truly over. Even now, uncountable names in between him and her, he still couldn't get her blue eyes off of his mind. The thought of her porcelain skin over his sun-kissed body came to him every single one of his one-night-stands. And at that moment, sitting on his desk, trying to get his homework done, the memory of her laughter drowned every sentence he tried to compose. He forced everything out with a loud grunt, grabbing his head with both hands and pulling on his hair. "The results show that 73.3% of patients responded positively to the treatment." He voiced out loud, trying to silence Caro's laughter in his mind. "No, that's bullshit." After a few moments staring at the cursor beeping at the end of his last sentence, he finally shut the laptop down. On an impulse, he unlocked his phone and opened a conversation from three days prior. He should've answered it when he got the text, but he wasn't in the mood at the time. "Hey, babe, wanna go for a beer rn?" He wasn't even done changing when the phone buzzed on the table. Two happy emojis popped up, and then a "Meet you there in 10". He kept the speed up as he rode off campus, through a park and then into the city. He was glad for the chill air against his face, numbing it to the point where it was the only thing he was able to think about. Finally some peace of mind. It wasn't dark yet when he got to the bar, but the sun had already set behind the buildings. There was one single tree, barely taller than him but strong enough to hold his bike. As he secured it, a red leaf fell to his knee. It was autumn when he got to kiss Caro for the first time, and it was also autumn when he kissed her last. "Nope. Something else, think of something else." he thought to himself. Incapable of coming up with anything, he brought out a cigarette and inhaled deeply. Somewhere inside him, there was a bit of guilt about what he was trying to do. But it'd been so long since he started that it no longer bothered him. His new game was called Darren. The younger guy looked like a model, straight silver hair and pale skin that Harry couldn't wait to leave marks on. All he could think about when Darren was around was the things he wanted to do to him. It was purely sensual, and that was pretty clear from the start. Or at least that's what he told himself. That Darren was on the same page as him- no strings attached, just fun and games. But the way his phone had been buzzing ever since he got on the bike, there was clearly more interest from one side. But instead of doing the right thing, and not stringing him along, Harry was about to sleep with him again and leave with a lame excuse to not spend the night. And then it was back to emotionless texts, conversations on the verge of ghosting him just in case he'd be in the mood again. But it was okay, Darren was playing the same game. He had the same dynamic with a lot of people lately. None knew of each other. They didn't have to, and they didn't ask either. He was no monster, though. Harry would tell that to himself constantly. That because no one had explicitly asked for exclusivity, it was implied they weren't obliged to it. The only one who did, what was her name again? Odella... no, that's not right... Ornella, maybe? He laughed dryly at himself. He'd become one of those guys that didn't even remember the names of all of his

partners. But he was no dougebag, when Ornella asked to be exclusive, he straight up told her no and then never bothered her again. They weren't on the same page anymore, so no more games. He wondered if that would ever happen with Darren too. There was not much time to think about this, because he was soon greeting the guy with a half hug and a gentle kiss just beside his lips. "You smell nice." Darren said, hands in his pockets and scarf almost over his mouth. "You just like the smell of tabacco." Harry smirked and put the unfinished cigarette down. "Let's get in, you're freezing." The night went exactly how Harry planned it. All his jokes were welcomed by Darren, and he let the young boy win at pull- he was cute when he bragged about his skills. But the best feeling was whenever Harry would approach Darren. A stroke of the lower back, a smirk from the other side of the table, a kiss when no one was near... Darren accepted any and everything Harry was willing to give him. The power high that it gave him to have someone be so devoted to him was indescribable. But the night was fully set and he was growing impatient. "Let's get out of here." He whispered to Darren's ear right before his turn. Darren had already started pulling Harry's bike for him when the phone on his pocket buzzed again. Harry walked alongside his date, though his eyes were on his phone. He had a lost call that he hadn't noticed while inside. The number wasn't saved to his phone anymore, but he hadn't managed to erase it from his own memory yet. "Oh, shit." He whispered. "I... Sorry, man, I have to go. There's a- um, it's a family thing." Harry was on his bike before his date could answer. He didn't even look at Darren's eyes before leaving. There was a sting of guilt building up, and maybe he'd feel disgusted by himself if it wasn't for the sheer adrenaline running through his veins. Maybe the alcohol had a bit to do with it too. This had only happened a few times before, and the outcome was always the same. Still, Harry couldn't keep himself from falling to his knees when it came to her. As he rode his bike as fast as he could go, a cynical smile crept on his lips. How ironic. Darren was probably feeling the same way about Harry just a few hours prior. Whenever Caro was in town, she stayed at her best friend's apartment- all the way on the other side of the city. So it was past midnight already when he got to the building. There was a party on the roof, maybe they could sneak in for more drinks. She had some catching up to do, as Harry was already tipsy. Still, he didn't have to check the phone to know which floor to go to and which door to knock. Just like everything else about Caro, he had it indefinitely memorized. 409, the doorknocker was a silver seagull. A very heavy, silver seagull. At first, Harry didn't feel it when his finger got caught in between the door and the seagull, but by the third time he knocked, it started changing colour. "Hm." He said to himself as he examined the swollen-red finger. He put it in his mouth and kept on knocking to the beat of the music coming from above. Why did they have the music so loud? Harry could barely hear his own thoughts, so the neighbours had to be furious about this noise. Carolina was probably waiting for Harry, who was already late due to how far he was when she texted him. "Fuck!" He said, taking his phone out of his pocket again. He hadn't answered. Dumb ass. "im herre" He sent the text before reading the ones Caro had sent before. One was a laughing emoji and the other was a voice note. There were people laughing on the background, and someone turned the music down a bit for Caro to speak into her phone. "I'm so sorry, ignore that, it was a dare." She half said, half laughed. Harry didn't understand, so he played it again. Again. Again. And again one more time. Was she talking about the lost call? or was it about her being in town? Had he really fallen for such a stupid trap? Harry fell to the floor, phone glued to his ear as the voice note played over and over again. His chest was about to

explode, face red and throat dry. He knocked on the door again, now with his fist. The inevitable tear fell down his cheek, though it was impossible to know if it was sadness or anger that caused it. "Oh, god." Someone said behind him. But when he turned around, the stairs were empty and someone on hills was running up the stairs. He got up and ran after them, but he was too intoxicated to keep up. He fell halfway up the stairs, having to crawl for a few steps before getting up. On the rooftop, there were too many people in heels to know which one had seen him. "Great." He sight. Might as well look around. He walked around the place, inhaling the cold air of the night and trying to calm down, make sense of what had just happened. He was about to light up his last cigarette when someone took it from him. She had long purple nails and her skin glowed under the moonlight. She smirked as the cigarette reached her mouth. He lit it up for her. "I didn't think you'd actually come." She said. Her smirk turned into a sincere smile. "You told me to." "Yes, but I also said you should ignore that." "Well I didn't." He took the cigarette from her fingers and smoked himself before speaking again. "Should I go?" He wanted to seem as cool with the situation as she appeared to be, hide the fact that he had just been played like a puppet for a fucking drinking game dare. "What happened to you finger?" She shouted, stepping closer to him. "I- I don't remember." Harry lied. There was still a bit of dignity to be salvaged. And there it was, but this time it was real. Her laugh, once again, drowned every thought on his mind. There was no music and no people around them anymore, it was just him and her, together again, laughing in the middle of the night. "You know I meant to call you, right?" Caro said, a hand tenderly rubbing his arm. She knew exactly what she was doing, and he knew it too. "I'm sure you did." He said. "I did!" She pushed him a little, both cracking a knowing smile. "I promise I did, it's just that-" "Shut the fuck up." He felt more stable now that he'd taken some air and the alcohol effect had cooled down. "It's okay, Caro. Let's just have fun tonight and see what happens." "Sounds fun." She leaned in and kissed him on his cheek, the kiss lingering just a second too long. He instinctively put a hand on her hip, but she walked away swiftly after the kiss. The pain on his chest came back, and the little composure he had gained crumbled. She wasn't coming back to him. This time it was definitive, and it had been for a while now. But the worst realization that came to him that night, was how much power she had over him. How much hope, urge, love, anger and pain she could cause in just a matter of hours. She had him at her mercy, like a puppet she could toy with however she wanted. They were both the same kind of wicked, using others for validation, feasting on their adoration. But as much pain as it caused him to know he was at the other end of his own game, it also sparked joy to know he could provide that for her.

#idk how to add an audio file to an ask so the cover is posting in a bit #hope you like it!!!#asks #micha's 700 celebration!#thelasttimeyoueversawme

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theofficeimagines · 4 years

Text

guilty pleasure

Pairing: Ryan Howard/fem reader

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, reader and ryan dont really like each other lmao, strong language, mentions of pee but this isnt a piss kink fic i promise

Word count: 2344

a/n: this happened in a dream and i dont know how to deal w it so i wrote it out and then i found your blog so im sending it to you anonymously ksdhfkdsjfgh ive never read or written the office fanfiction before i dont know why my brain did this

Kelly was invited to a frat party by a friend and naturally begged Ryan to come with. He didn’t seem keen on it, bored as usual with any plans Kelly tried to make to draw him back into a committed relationship, until you walked in on Kelly tugging at Ryan’s arm in the kitchen and she shifted her attention to inquire you. Ryan eyed you silently throughout the exchange. You told her that sure, you’d be there, and smiled. Ryan turned and watched as you left and you heard him suddenly exclaim “Ow!” as Kelly punched him.

“Why don’t you leave her alone, you know she doesn’t like you.” Kelly grumbled.

“Yeah, whatever, Kelly, I’ll come to your stupid party.” He replied, clearly not hearing what she’d actually said.

You knew Ryan had a thing for you. He stares without restraint and always makes suggestive comments whenever he catches you when Kelly isn’t trailing his heels. The first time he tried flirting with you was in the presence of Pam, whom you’d immediately hit it off with. You looked at her, eyebrows raised, when he left, and she rolled her eyes.

“Don’t worry about him, he does this to every new girl in the office that hasn’t broken thirty yet.” She said, giving you a warm smile.

Sure, he was kind of cute, but maybe if he wasn’t so god damn pretentious you’d at least try and properly befriend him. But tormenting him with his own lust while keeping him at an arm’s length away was more fun. You didn’t like the way he treated Kelly and you wished she’d wisen up and drop him, but she seemed too far gone in her idolization to be reasoned with. So you didn’t exactly feel bad flirting back and then leaving him high and dry whenever he got particularly irritating. Someone had to have some control over his sexual impulses.

But you’d never been to a non-office party with him before and couldn’t wait to see what he’d do to try and get your attention.

You didn’t expect much in the way of formality from a frat party, so you showed up simply in your favorite jeans and the first clean casual shirt you spotted. You were never a makeup person and didn’t intend on starting now.

By the time you got there, you really had to pee. You cursed yourself for drinking so much highly caffeinated name-brand soda throughout the day and not bothering to use the bathroom before leaving the house.

You weren’t surprised to walk in and immediately find Ryan chatting up some random girls about how he was the youngest VP in Dunder Mifflin history and now how he’s some pseudo deep artist because “it didn’t really suit me.” He pretended he didn’t notice you come in and cleared his throat, suddenly overtaken by “um, uh.” He quickly recovered and continued his yapping, scooting closer to one of the girls to brush her hair out of her face and over her ear.

Unimpressed, you sauntered over and placed your hand on his shoulder. “The real reason he isn’t VP anymore is because he got fired and arrested for committing fraud.” You said to the girls with a smile, kissed his cheek, and walked away to find the bathroom.

Ryan stared at you, mouth agape. You heard the girls laughing despite the loud music and one of them said, “Wait, you got arrested?” incredulously.

You were maybe ten steps away when Ryan finally snapped back to reality and shouted, “Hey!”

You ignored him, shouldering past some sweaty, already drunk frat boys to get further into the house, toward where you assumed a bathroom might be.

He followed and hollered, “Hey, (Y/N), what the fuck!”

You finally stopped and turned on your heel as you heard your name. He seemed surprised and paused, causing you to cross your arms and look at him expectantly.

“Why’d you do that? I was totally gonna lay one of those girls tonight!” He said in that classic Ryan Howard exasperated whine.

Raising your brows, you scoffed and sounded a sarcastic, “Uh-huh.” before beginning to turn away again.

“Hey,” he started and you sighed and turned back, “- I know you’re too stuck up and too deep into the feminist movement to sleep with me, but at least you could let me get on with other girls!”

You laughed. “Ryan, your shit doesn’t work on me. I know you only came because I did and you were only talking to those girls to make me jealous.”

“Fine, whatever, I give up.” He responded by throwing up his hands.

“Really? That easy? After all this time?”

“Yeah, if you’re playing hard to get, you’re playing too hard to get because I’m tired of this.” He seemed genuine for the first time in his entire life and you felt a small pang of disappointment in your chest. You enjoyed messing with him, and who knows, maybe one day you’d finally give him what he wanted.

“Alright, hun, good luck with that.” Your tone was sarcastic as you patted the side of his arm. He glared at you and you turned away to continue on your quest for a bathroom. Any bathroom.

The house was much larger than it looked. Or at least it seemed that way with so many people swarming in it, moving freely from room to room, the only rooms with closed doors barely contained the moans of frisky college kids. You hadn’t dared open any of them, not wishing to see something you might regret. You were about to give up and leave when you found Kelly.

“Hey Kelly, where’s the bathroom?” You grabbed her arm to get her attention.

“Whaaaaaa? I can’t hear you man!” She slurred. She was drunk. “The music’s sooooo loud!” She doubled over giggling.

“The bathroom. Where is it?” You said louder.

“Oh it’s ummm…. It’s uhhh…. This is a frat house, man! Just go whenever you want!” Kelly danced as she gave you her unhelpful advice.

You sighed heavily, your bladder not enjoying the movement from being jostled about by wasted party-goers. You continued your way through the house when you spotted Ryan again. He was chatting up the girl whose hair he’d been playing with earlier. Something inside you snapped, you actually became jealous despite yourself, and you marched over.

Grabbing Ryan hard by the arm, you pulled him away roughly as he hollered at you what your problem was.

“Take me to the bathroom.” You demanded.

When he saw the look in your eye, realization dawned on his face and he said, “Look, (Y/N), if this is another one of your games -”

Despite your better judgement, you grabbed his face and kissed him ferociously. “Take me to the bathroom.” You commanded once again.

This time he simply nodded and lead you by the hand through the crowded building.

Upon finding an empty restroom, you whispered to yourself, “Thank God,” and began to enter when you realized Ryan was following closely behind you. You quickly turned and pushed him out, saying, “Wait, I actually have to pee.” and shut the door in his face.

Having finally drained your bladder and washed your hands, you swung open the door to find Ryan still standing directly outside it. You grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him into the room, slamming the door shut and locking it and placing another hard kiss on his lips. He kissed back, almost angrily; your teeth gnashing one another’s. You didn’t know what had gotten into you, you didn’t know why you wanted this so suddenly, but you wanted it now and you wanted it bad. And you could tell he did too.

Pulling away for air, Ryan gasped, “So we’re really doing this, huh?”

“Shut up.” You snapped, untucking his shirt because of course it was tucked in, and grabbing him by the back of the head to pull him in once again. He made you so fucking angry, he was so annoying and manipulative - maybe you just needed to get this frustration out of your system by taking it out with none other than Ryan’s own body. You tugged at his hair, nails digging lightly into his scalp, as his hands ran up your shirt, setting your skin on fire.

His mouth moved to your jaw and he backed you up towards the counter. “Feisty, huh?” He mumbled against your skin, his breath making you shiver.

“God, you are so annoying.” You gasped as he moved to kiss down your neck, biting hard at your flesh.

“I wouldn’t have to be so annoying if you weren’t such a bitch.” He said into your ear.

You growled, grabbing his face to kiss him again, this time biting down on his bottom lip and sucking on it, eliciting a groan from deep in his throat and he smacked and squeezed your ass. You felt wild, feral - you hated it when men called you a bitch. But when Ryan did it, it made you wanna fuck him harder.

He grabbed your thighs and pulled away just enough to say, “Jump,” across your lips. You obliged and he helped you unto the counter; whatever was on it before you clattering to the floor and into the adjacent sink. He tugged your shirt over your head and you began to unbutton his. His mouth and teeth back on your neck and jaw, his hands roughly grabbing at the bare skin of your torso, you fumbled feverishly with his stupid button-up. You caved and tore open the shirt, the buttons popping surprisingly easily from their stitches.

“Hey -” Ryan began to protest, but you quickly cut him off.

“Don’t call me a bitch.”

He shrugged off the shirt and you took the chance to get rid of your bra. Ryan hissed at the sight of your breasts and didn’t hesitate to grab them. Heat pooled in your belly and you ran your nails down his chest, his abs, his hips…. And you began to pull apart his belt. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your breasts as you impatiently tugged at his jeans.

“Jesus, just fuck me already, Ryan!” You whined, and he finally got the hint to push down his jeans and pull off yours as you braced against the counter to lift your butt. He pulled down your painties along with your jeans and you shimmied your feet out of them, Ryan wasting no time to take off his boxers.

He took his hardened length into his hand and began pumping it in his fist, grabbing your chin to kiss you roughly. You spread your legs, scooting toward the edge of the counter to encourage him to finally start fucking you. He rubbed the head of his dick up and down your slit, spreading your wetness.

“You ready for this?” Ryan questioned.

“Fuck me.” You answered simply.

Ryan didn’t need anymore convincing. He grabbed your hips and thrust hard inside you and you let out a loud whimper. He didn’t bother allowing you to adjust to his size, instead setting a brutal pace that turned you on even more. You hooked your arms under his shoulders and dug your nails into his skin, pulling down his back and back up again and buried your face into his shoulder. He moaned, grabbing your throat and pushing you back, forcing you to watch as he fucked you senseless. He watched as your breasts bounced with his movement and used his other hand to rub your clit.

You were a fucking mess, moaning and whining as he pulled you back forward and trapped your body against his so he could rut into you harder, his fingers hard on your clit.

“Oh fuck!” You cried, nails digging back into his shoulders. The fact that you knew you shouldn’t be doing this, the way he was grabbing you and biting you and kissing you, the rough and painful way he handled you, the fact that you were in a stranger’s house, only turned you on even more. You ground your hips desperately against his and wrapped your legs around his waist and he moaned, his fingers bruising your sides.

Ryan grabbed your face with one hand, forcing you to look at him, and he groaned, “You gonna cum for me, baby?”

You whimpered. “I’m not your baby.” You responded indignantly.

He grabbed your thigh with his other hand, pulled it further up his torso and hooked it over his elbow, spreading you wider and pounding you harder. You cried out, clenching around him, that heat in your belly feeling insatiable.

His fingers came back down on your clit and you held onto his shoulders for dear life.

“God, you feel so fucking good.” He moaned.

The two of you were slick with sweat, the room filled with animalistic noises and the sound of your skin smacking together. The coil in your belly felt just about ready to snap, all you were capable of was repeating varients of, “Oh God, oh fuck, oh shit,” and releasing the most wanton moans and whines. You could feel Ryan was close too, his breathing ragged and his thrusts becoming more erratic.

It wasn’t until Ryan buried his hand into your hair and pulled, hard, that your orgasm shook your body and you screamed. Warmth spread all throughout your body as you came, and you clutched and clawed at Ryan for support. You heard him grumble something like, “So fucking hot,” as he rode out your high.

Soon enough, he buried himself deep inside you and came, biting into neck and sucking hard, sure to leave a nice bruise. He pulled back and grabbed your face to kiss you, softer this time.

The two of you stayed pressed against each other for a few moments, trying to catch your breath, before Ryan pulled out of you and you released your iron-clad grip on him.

“Did we just hatefuck?” Ryan asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think so.” You breathed.

#the office #the office us #ryan howard #submission

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thetimelesscycle · 3 years

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Tales of Arcadia Wizards Fanfiction: Hope Dies Last - Chapter 9

The Guardians of Arcadia grapple with the loss of yet another Master Wizard.

Zoe and Claire hatch a new plan.

A/N: I return!

A week later than I had planned, but I digress.

Turns out I spent my holiday actually working on some of my original pieces, which means this little project got set aside in favour of works that have been neglected for far longer. I intend to try and keep working on those stories going forward, so updates for this fic may not be quite as regular.

We'll still get there in the end, though. ;-)

Enjoy, TTC

Chapter 9

For Want of a Wizard

Like all wizards, Claire had been born with her abilities. They had always been a part of her; A silent power thrumming beneath the surface without her ever having been aware of it. It was strange to think that, were it not for Jim becoming the Trollhunter and pulling her into the wonderful world of trolls and magic, she might never have realised what she was capable of. She had pulled off her fair share of miracles since then, and it hadn’t even been a full year since the first time she’d used the Shadow Staff. Part of that was definitely luck — she’d been given a headstart thanks to Morgana’s attempt to steal her body, and the Shadow Staff itself had seemed to guide her in its own way long before that — but the rest had all been instinctual. Magic just felt right in the same way that being on stage had always come naturally to her, though it wasn’t until she met Douxie and the hedge wizards of HexTech that she realised how rare that kind of intuitive casting was.

All of them were her seniors in age and experience to varying degrees, though Zoe and Douxie easily outstripped their peers on both counts. She’d been given the impression when she asked that there was an unhappy reason so few wizards of their generation were still wandering the world today. She hadn’t asked again, more than capable of filling in the blanks even without a front row seat to history, and not wanting to waste what precious little of Douxie’s time she was able to claim for herself.

It was a calculated risk, making the trip between Arcadia and the Master Wizard’s new hideout, even infrequently and via the Shadow Realm. Unfortunately, they hadn’t been given much of a choice. The Arcane Order was still at large and Claire needed training beyond that which a hedge wizard could provide; Even a centuries old, very skilled hedge wizard. Douxie might not have been able to use Shadow Magic himself, but he’d learned the majority of his own skill the same way she had — through a sometimes painful process of trial and error — and was more than capable of steering her away from what might cause trouble. He was also an adept translator of the book she had taken from Morgana’s rooms, and she went to him for explanations even after he and Zoe had each set time aside to help her learn to read the tome’s contents herself. She found it easier to follow his directions than try and comprehend the words on the page, and with time set firmly against them the sooner she could learn to do more than open portals and create illusions the better.

Technically speaking, she had done more than that when she had fought to save Jim, but it had all been wild, desperate, and exhausting. She needed to learn how to do those things deliberately, and without pouring more of her energy into each spell than she could safely get away with. It was frustratingly difficult sometimes, even with Douxie’s relentless encouragement and stout belief that she was capable of anything she put her mind to. He’d laughed when she’d admitted as much, freely pointing out she’d picked up a whole lot considering she hadn’t yet had her magic for a fraction of the time Morgana had. She’d wanted to argue, not because she didn’t think he was being honest, but because for a moment her mind had completely tripped over the short passage of time that had passed since this whole adventure started.

They had accomplished so much in such a short amount of time. The Eternal Night. Gunmar. Morgana. The search for the new Heartstone. The return of the Arcane Order. Jim and Toby had been at it only a few months longer than she had, yet, somehow, between them they had been involved in saving the world no less than three times. Surely, surely those adventures could not have taken place over a single year. But they had, and Douxie’s gentle amusement at her impatience had reminded her that her chosen teacher had spent nine centuries learning his craft and had still only just earned his staff.

That had put things into perspective.

So had watching Arcadia burn.

She was not a stranger to battle anymore. Even if she didn’t count the various, small skirmishes she’d taken part in there had been the Eternal Night and the Battle of Killahead Bridge to introduce her to the horrors of this millennia long war. Young though she might be, she knew what it was to stare death in the face. To stand on a pitched battlefield knowing you were outnumbered and outmatched and choosing to fight anyway. But even Gunmar had only wanted to conquer the human world — the Arcane Order wanted to burn it all to the ground — and it was there, standing in the midst of the calamity they had caused, that she most keenly felt her lack of experience.

Even without the soulless husk of Arthur to support them, the Arcane Order had them outmatched. They weren’t invincible — Deya had landed a hit on Bellroc at Killahead, and apparently caused some serious damage — but they had replaced their lost pawns with an army formed of what seemed to be every magical creature they could hold beneath their sway. She didn’t even recognise all of those swarming the streets, despite the hours she had spent pouring over Blinky’s bestiaries. There were shadow mephets, nyarlagroths, goblins, and hellheetis alongside countless others. She thought she saw a gruesome briefly out of the corner of her eye, and the stars above were blotted out by the winged outline of at least three stalklings.

It was madness, utter and complete, made all the worse by the innocent bystanders caught in the midst of it all. The three of them had been given the unenviable task of rescuing as many people from the heart of the battlefield as they could. Claire’s shadow portals were the only reliable way to transport people safely in and out, with neither the airship nor the Hextech wizards able to risk getting close to the Arcane Order themselves. That was Douxie’s role, and Claire hadn’t been able to argue when he declined her offer for assistance. Her skills were needed elsewhere, and she’d already tested her strength against the Orders and been found wanting. Douxie had promised he would manage. He’d smiled and gripped her shoulder and she’d let him walk away like a fool.

“Claire?”

The sky was spinning above her, half obscured by smoke as her mind wandered in aimless recollections, dredging up recriminations for a mistake she did not yet realise she had made.

“Claire! Wake up!”

The smoke burned the back of her throat as she unwittingly inhaled it. There was a ringing in her ears, loud and distracting and muffling Jim’s voice as he shook her urgently.

“Are you alright? Claire?”

“I’m fine,” she said, or thought she said. Her own voice sounded like a whisper, her hearing still as distorted as her vision. She coughed, her bruised sides protesting the motion, her lungs screaming for fresh air. “I’m fine. What—”

If Jim answered her she didn’t catch his reply, but he did help her off her back into a sitting position. His face was blackened with soot and streaked with blood from a dozen small cuts. No doubt she looked just as battered. Judging by the rubble surrounding them, half a building had come down with Bellroc’s last fireball. Still dizzy, she leaned against Jim a moment, trying to get her bearings, trying to gather her wits because now was not the time to lose focus.

The ringing in her ears was fading, replaced by what sounded like screams. Not sounded like, she realised, was. The smoke had parted behind them, so that when she and Jim whirled to face the source of that dreadful sound they were both given a clear view of the battlefield once more. Of her teacher — her friend —on his knees at the Arcane Order’s mercy.

“No!”

‘Magic is emotion’, Douxie had told her, something she had always known but never fully understood. Not until she was forced to embrace her fear or be rendered helpless once again. It wasn’t fear she was feeling when she staggered upright, bleeding and still choking on smoke; It was absolute, white-hot fury, and her magic reacted accordingly. The shadows took on a will of their own as soon as they left her hand, the energy torn from her fingers to join the violent maelstrom their battle had created. What she had meant to be an escape route turned instead into a whirlpool of darkness that dragged anyone and anything in the vicinity into its heart.

It should have calmed once they reached the other side, like diving beneath the surface of a pool in the middle of a storm. Unfortunately, she had unwittingly brought the Arcane Order along for the ride, and found herself emerging into chaos. Magic roared around her; Raw, unbridled, and dangerous. She couldn’t see anything, the clashing forces spinning her in circles and blinding her to both friend and foe. She could hear screams, voices she recognised, and a slow, swelling chant that settled sinisterly at the back of her mind, reeking of ill intent.

It was terrifying, but so was everything else they had faced today, and she wasn’t about to be the reason they didn’t make it out of this alive.

Giving up on righting herself, ignoring the chips of ice slicing through bare skin and the flames nipping at the edges of her hair, she let the whirlwind carry her where it would, pouring all of her focus, all of her energy, into locating her friends. She wasn’t Nari, she couldn’t simply sense the soul of any living thing, but she could picture the one’s she cared about clearly in her mind, imagine the shadows wrapping about them all in a protective blanket, and yank them to safety.

The landing was rough. They emerged from too high and crashed against the floor in a tangle of limbs and weapons. Claire had the breath knocked out of her when Krel landed on her back, a stream of what she was fairly certain were Akaridion curse words falling from his lips as they disentangled. She paid no attention, crawling on hands and knees towards the two among them who weren’t moving. Archie was closer, and she paused beside the small dragon, fingers seeking and finding the shard of ice that had felled him. She could feel the dark magic that infused it, an enchantment too complex for her to try and dispel on her own. She tugged the shard free instead, her fear easing a little when it did not resist, and watched with bated breath as the frost that had spread from its impact slowly began to melt. Archie’s wing twitched as the invisible layer crumbled away, and she nearly choked on her relief, hastily shoving the familiar into Jim’s arms as she turned to Douxie.

“Teach?”

He’d fallen face down without making any attempt to catch himself. She could still hear the screams Bellroc had been ringing out of him when they’d done... whatever it was they’d done. With a shaking hand, she reached to turn him over. There was no resistance; He rolled limply onto his back, skin pallid and face still, blood streaking the side of his face from a nasty gash on his temple. His chest had been branded with a strange rune that looked like it had been burnt directly into his skin, still bright in places, like hot embers in a dying fire.

She placed her fingers at his throat, searching for some sign of life as she pleaded under her breath, “Come on, Doux. Don’t do this again.”

There was no pulse that she could find. She tried to convince herself not to panic. This had happened before and he’d been fine, despite the fact the fall alone should have killed him. She just had to trust he could do it again. A minute ticked by, and then another, agonisingly slow and all too fast at the same time.

“He’s breathing, right?” Toby was behind her, Jim on her other side, still carefully cradling Archie. “Tell me he’s breathing.”

“I don’t…” she moved her hand to his chest, careful of the brand as she felt for the rise and fall that would indicate life. “I don’t think he is.”

“I could not hold him.” It was a fragile whisper, and Claire looked up to find Nari crouched on Douxie’s other side, staring at her own hands as if they had betrayed her. “I could not... I was not strong enough.”

“What did they do?”

Nari startled, lowering her hands as she lifted her eyes to meet Claire’s frantic gaze. “They have destroyed his soul. I tried to stop the spell, to hold him together, but I could not... I could not...”

“No.” She shook her head, denial rising. “No. There has to be a way to fix this. I can—”

“Guys!” The exasperated shout came from the other end of the dark cavern. Claire looked up to see Steve running towards them, Blinky a stride behind. “What is taking so long? We gotta move!”

The gyres. Of course. Their escape route. Their means of ferrying an entire town of people out of danger as quickly as possible. It had been her job to get everyone here safely, and she had failed.

“Great Gronka Morka!” Blinky had reached them, shoving his way through the circle they had unwittingly formed. “What happened?”

“No time for that,” Jim interrupted, moving Archie’s weight to one arm so he could reach down and pull Claire to her feet. “Steve’s right. We’ve got to move before the Order realises where we’ve gone.”

“But—!”

“We’ll figure something out,” he promised, stepping aside to let AAARRRGGHH!!! collect their fallen friend. “Just not here. Come on.”

Stumbling, she let herself be pulled along. The battle had exhausted them all, she could see it in the faces of those running alongside her, but they couldn’t stop yet. Douxie had been clear on that. They needed to get out and away, or the Order would just keep on coming. If they could. She didn’t know if Skrael or Bellroc could control the Shadow Realm now that Morgana was gone. No doubt they were powerful enough to find a way even if the magic was not in their repertoire, but leaving them trapped within its boundaries might buy a little more time.

Jim was leaning on her almost as much as she was leaning on him when they reached the gyre, his stamina not what it had once been as a half troll. Their sorry group piled on one after the other as Blinky wrestled with the controls. AAARRRGGHH!!! braced himself in the corner as they took off, cradling Douxie’s limp form gently to his chest. Claire found herself watching him as she swayed back and forth with the gyre’s sharp turns, still waiting on a miracle that wasn’t coming. Nari huddled at the large troll’s feet, her arms wrapped around herself as silent tears rolled down her cheeks. She looked devastated; Claire hadn’t yet moved past numb.

The station was crowded when they arrived, filled to overflowing with frightened Arcadians and equally unsettled trolls. These people had faced the Eternal Night and Alien invasion, only to be left shell shocked by an ancient order of wizards marching in without warning to burn their town to the ground. She could hear Dictatious shouting somewhere amidst the crowd, trying to ferry people to where they were meant to be as if he could actually see what was going on. Her parents were somewhere in that mess, as was her brother. Douxie had been adamant they get their families to safety before joining the fight. He’d sworn he could handle the Order for as long as they needed.

He’d lied.

The guilt was an old companion, a heavy weight bearing down on her shoulders as she disembarked. They drew attention. Human or troll, people knew Jim, and AAARRRGGHH!!! was much too large to pass unnoticed. Even if very few of those present knew who Douxie really was, they seemed to recognise that something terrible had happened. The crowd parted without prompting to let them pass, battered bodies shuffling out of the way and then watching them hasten by with curious eyes.

All except one.

“Zoe...”

Claire trailed off before she had even begun, the words dying on her tongue. The hedge wizard had clearly raced to reach them, her chest still heaving from the dead sprint she had just stumbled out of, dust in her hair and rips in her shirt that had not been there the last time they had spoken. There was a wild look in her eyes that had nothing to do with her battle-worn state, and Claire stepped aside, tugging Jim with her, as Zoe staggered forward. Static energy crackled behind her as she walked right up to AAARRRGGHH!!! and his precious burden, the large troll crouching lower to allow her near.

Without missing a beat, she leant across Douxie’s prone form to grab a hold of his singed shirt. “Hisirdoux Casperan, you are not going to pull this nonsense on me again!”

The answer was, predictably, silence. Zoe waited a beat longer, then her eyes flashed down to the burning rune. “What is this?”

“The Arcane Order…” Nari answered meekly. “Bellroc turned his soul to ashes.”

Zoe went a shade paler, her voice sharpening to a verbal razor. “His soul?”

“I tried to stop them.” There was an apology and regret both in those words. “I failed. I am sorry.”

“No.” Zoe’s hand turned into a fist, Douxie shirt still clutched within her fingers. “No, that’s not good enough. I haven’t spent centuries helping Archie keep this idiot alive for it to end like this. You were a part of the Order, you must know a way to fix this. They brought Morgana back. Twice.”

“Morgana’s soul was still intact,” Nari explained, shrinking a little more with each word. “Even if I could still sense his spirit on this plane, I cannot complete the ritual alone.”

“You’re not alone,” Claire interrupted, earning the attention of both her fellow spellcasters. “You have us, Nari, there must be something we can do.” The tiny sorceress looked up at her helplessly, her lips parted without words, and Claire felt her own determination wavering. “Please.”

“Come.” Laying a supportive hand on hers and Jim’s shoulders, Blinky started them moving again. “We should find somewhere quieter to discuss this.”

Suddenly hyper aware of all the eyes on them, Claire let herself be led, finding and grasping Jim’s hand tightly in her own. They left the crowded chamber, passing by the glowing doorway where the new Heartstone rested; A triumph she had all but forgotten in the wake of all that had followed. Holding aside a thick curtain of fabric, Blinky ushered them all within the comparative privacy of his new library, then hastened to clear room on the table for AAARRRGGHH!!! to set their fallen comrade down.

The large troll did so with care, folding Douxie’s hands across his stomach. It reminded Claire entirely too much of Merlin’s tomb, and she tore her gaze away to watch Jim settle Archie into place beside his wizard. The familiar was still under the influence of whatever dark magic had been locked within that icy shard, though the paralysis seemed to have eased somewhat, his eyes no longer staring blankly into the distance. He still wasn’t conscious, and Claire thought that was probably a mercy right now.

“What the hell happened out there?” Zoe was still choosing anger over any of the other emotions she might be feeling, standing rigid with her arms folded as she searched the faces of those gathered in the room.

“We were too slow.” Jim spoke, and Claire tried not to flinch. She had been too slow. If she had been able to evacuate the town faster, Douxie wouldn’t have been trapped facing the Order alone. They’d been overrun, yes, by mephits and stalklings and all manner of dark creatures, but that was no excuse. She should have found a way. “Skrael hit Archie, and then...”

He trailed off. Scowling, Zoe moved to check the familiar herself, Nari clambering up to perch atop the table beside Douxie’s head as she did so. The small sorceress reached out as though intending to touch him, only to snatch her hand back at the last second with a guilty flinch. “This is my fault.”

“It’s nobody’s fault.” There were tears pricking at the corner of her eyes; She refused to let them fall. “The Arcane Order did this, and we are going to make sure they don’t get away with it.”

She didn’t care how. Enough was enough. She wasn’t going to lose anyone else to these monsters. Never, ever again.

“He can’t be dead.” She hadn’t realised Steve had followed them until he started speaking. “Don’t wizards like, turn to ash or something when they die?”

“That would require his soul departing to the next realm.” Blinky, one of only three in the room with the authority to comment, offered his knowledge. “Without that, I fear our wizard friend may remain like this forever.”

“What? Really?” Steve blinked, giving their fallen friend a sidelong look. “That’s… that’s just creepy.”

“One of the many mysteries of magic,” Blinky shrugged, turning to Jim. “I must go and make sure everyone is getting settled in alright. You’ll call, if you need anything?”

“Of course.” Jim nodded. “Can you let mom know we’re here?”

“Right away, Master Jim.” Blinky bustled out, AAARRRGGHH!!! shuffling behind him, and the room was plunged back into a heavy silence.

“What about Archie?” Claire couldn’t stand it, and spoke in spite of her shaking voice, “Is he going to be okay?”

“I don’t know what this enchantment is,” Zoe admitted, running her hands over the familiar with a gentle care that was at odds with the fury still radiating off her. “Curses aren’t exactly my specialty, but one of the others might be able to help.”

“I will go ask.” As eager as any of them to have something to do, Krel bolted from the room.

“And Douxie?” Toby pressed. “Is there some sort of wizard guidebook on soul reconstruction too? Some sort of relic we need to find? Some spooky, dark lair we’ve gotta sneak inside? Oh, oh! Maybe Gatto has something that would help?”

“Nari?” Claire kept her eyes on the forest guardian, the only one among them who had any true understanding of the magic that had been used here. “How do we fix this?”

“I know of no magic capable of restoring a soul once it has been destroyed.” Nari shook her head, her own gaze fixated on the unmoving wizard in their midst. “There are spells, rituals that might help if a fragment had survived, but I cannot sense any part of Douxie still with us.”

“You couldn’t sense Jim either,” Claire reminded her. “But he was still there, in the Shadow Realm.”

“Then that’s where we’ll start.” Zoe made a decision, stepping away from the table to stand closer to Claire. “We are not letting it end like this.”

“You can’t go alone.” Not about to be left out, Jim added, “The Order might still be there.”

“You stuck the Arcane Order in the Shadow Realm?” Zoe gave her a look that was equal parts bemused and impressed. “Douxie really has been training you, hasn’t he? You’ll have to ask him about that nyarlagroth he stuck in Limbo one day.”

“I will,” she promised, holding that fragile thread of hope for all it was worth. “As soon as we get him back.”

#Tales of Arcadia Fanfiction #TOA Wizards #TOA Zoe #Claire Nunez #Jim Lake Jr #Toby Domzalski #TOA Archie #Hisirdoux Casperan #blinkous galadrigal #Hurt/Comfort #Angst #We fudge the scenes I don't want to write because why not #Nobody is here for the actual plot anyway.

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theshatteredrose · 4 years

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Fighting For You (Chapter 4) - Trials of Mana Fanfiction

AN: Sorry for the delay. Still enduring headaches and migraines, unfortunately. Waiting for the results of the MRI scan. Anyway, hope you’ll enjoy reading~!

Chapter 4:

Duran scratched the back of his head as he looked to his right, where Hawkeye stood. The thief had his left arm folded across his chest, his chin resting against his right knuckles. His expression was that of sheer bewilderment as his eyes locked with his.

Not knowing what to say, Duran gave him a nervous smile before he turned his gaze back to the wooden table in front of them. Rather, the small little being sat on top of the table.

Blond hair pulled into a ponytail, dressed in tiger-striped clothing…Baby Ludgar looked nothing like his previously grown self. Luna had done the right thing to grant his final wish. But…

“So, you’re saying we should just take Ludgar back into Duskmoon Forest,” Duran said, wording his thoughts slowly. “And just leave him there?”

Kevin nodded his head. “Yes. Forest creatures will care for him,” he insisted. “Beastmen way.”

Duran shook his head, baffled and maybe feeling a bit protective. Beastmen way or not, that didn’t sit right with Duran. Didn’t sit right with Hawkeye either. Just dropping a child, a mere baby who could only just crawl, out into the wilderness was sheer madness. If he caught anyone doing that, he’d be horrified.

Yet, it seemed…normal practice for beastmen?

What a strange custom.

Maybe they could find someone in the village willing to watch over Ludgar for them? If nothing else than to remove the burden of guilt for essentially abandoning a baby in the middle of a forest.

When little, baby Ludgar reached out his hands toward him, his fingers wiggling and trying to grasp onto to something, Duran instinctively stepped forward. And scooped him up into his arms and rested him against his chest.

The little beastman, with a head full of hair, gurgled happily. Perched unafraid in Duran’s arms.

“Well, we can’t exactly keep him with us,” Hawkeye deduced. “Maybe we could, I don’t know, find someone who lives here to watch over him?”

“Took the thought right out of my head,” Duran replied.

Before they could even begin to plot out their latest plan, little Ludgar suddenly started crying. Reacting instinctively once more, Duran idly bounced the baby in his arms and quietly hushed him. He knew from experience that there were several reasons for a child to cry. But after checking to see if he had soiled himself or if he had a fever, he soon realised they weren’t the cause. The other reason was out of fear or was feeling fussy and just wanted to be pampered. Again, never of those seemed to be the cause.

That left him one cause; the baby was simply hungry.

Ok, right, now…

“Ah, what do baby beastmen eat?”

“I may know someone,” Kevin suddenly exclaimed, disregarding his question. “Who could watch Ludgar. Give him food. I’ll go and speak with them. Be back soon.”

Not wanting for a response, Kevin turned on his heel and rushed out of the inn; arms pumping and intention focused.

Duran shook his head and shared a look with Hawkeye. Well, if Kevin could convince someone to watch over Ludgar for them, it would be one less thing to worry about. He just needed to focus on getting the kid some food before he cried the house down.

Balancing the squirming baby in his arms, Duran ventured out of the inn with Hawkeye at his heels. It was fortunate they were in a beastmen village; they would know what to feed a beastmen child better than anyone!

They headed for the item shop in town, having noted that there was a kitchen attached. And outside was a few chairs and tables, made for outside dining. The beastman chef did a quick doubletake when they walked in, which was understandable; they were a pair of humans with a beastman child.

Thankfully, they didn’t ask any questions. Simply got to work creating a plate of food for a ravenous child.

Ludgar increased his wiggling, no doubt in response to the smell. Duran unexpectedly struggled to keep the child at bay. He half expected the kid to bite him!

Even small, he was quite strong.

He didn’t get any help from Hawkeye, however. The thief stood back and seemed to take great amusement watching him struggle with a squirming and wiggling child. He would only offer him an amused smile whenever Duran looked over at him for aide.

The jerk.

Thankfully, before the kid got frustrated and tried to bite him, the chef announced that their ordered food was ready. Hawkeye finally decided to be useful and he reached for the plate, leading the way outside.

Duran sat down quickly into a chair and balanced Ludgar on his knee. Ludgar clawed at the table, reaching for the plate of food Hawkeye set down.

There was a lot of food on the plate. Not to mention meat. But he didn’t raise any questions. He simply snatched a fork and set about all but shovelling the food into Ludgar’s mouth, the kid eagerly opening his mouth in preparation.

Huh. The kid already had teeth. That shouldn’t be surprising. And he appeared to be starving; barely chewing the food before swallowing and demanding more. Even going as far as slapping his hands impatiently atop of the table, only stopping when Duran shoved some food into his mouth.

He had previously worried that there was too much food. Now, he worried there wasn’t enough!

“You’re pretty good with kids,” Hawkeye remarked, his elbow on the table and his chin resting in his hand.

“I have a little sister; Wendy,” Duran replied as he readjusted the squirming Ludgar easily in his arms. “Been taking care of her for as long as I can remember.”

As he turned his attention back to hand-feeding Ludgar, he felt a pang of nostalgia and wondered how Aunt Stella and Wendy were doing. He hoped they were all right and weren’t worrying about him too much. And what Wendy didn’t hate him anymore, though he did know she didn’t mean that.

At the time he was so deep in self-pity he hated himself, too.

But just you wait, Crimson Wizard, he was going to get the mana sword and get him back for what he had done!

With the plate empty and the kiddo satisfied, Duran patted Ludgar on the back gently, getting a surprisingly robust burp out of such a small body. It amused him greatly, he had to admit. Beastmen were built big and tough, weren’t they? Even when they were small!

He wondered if Kevin was just like this when he was small.

And he hoped, despite what Kevin told him, he wasn’t just…dumped in the middle of the woods. If he was…the poor guy. No wonder he didn’t like large crowds.

“Oh my, you are a new pair, aren’t you?”

Settling Ludgar down on his lap, Duran lifted his head to watch as an elderly female beastman slowly paced her way over to them. She appeared quite old; her hair a silvery grey, her posture stooped forward from the slight hump on her back, and thick eyebrows covered her eyes.

“This wee little one yours?” she asked when she finally made her way to where Duran sat. “You must be a very proud mother.”

Duran was put-off by the question, wondering who the elderly women was directing it to. He soon realised that her attention was focused in on him. Meaning, she thought he was Ludgar’s mother?!

“Wait, what?” Duran stuttered.

The elderly woman ignored his spluttering, however, and reached out to tickle under Ludgar’s chin. “Do you mind if I ask whether the father is in the picture?” she asked another surprising question.

“Huh?” Duran muttered, still dumbfounded. And before he could even begin to formulate a response, telling the woman in no uncertain terms the truth, Hawkeye spoke up.

And what he had to say was not what Duran had expected.

“He’s right here,” he answered, doing that suave hair flick of his.

“Oh, my apologies,” the elderly woman immediately replied as she turned her face in Hawkeye’s direction. “My eyesight isn’t what it used to be.”

That was pretty obvious. The eyebrows certainly weren’t helping.

“Not a problem,” Hawkeye returned. He then did something also quite surprising; he grabbed the back of Duran’s chair and scooted his own closer to his. Then he oh-so casually draped an arm around Duran’s shoulders, leaning in far too close. “My darling and I are just passing through.”

Wait? Darling? What?!

The elderly woman nodded her head in a sagely manner. “Must be difficult travelling with such a boisterous child.”

“Not at all. My darling wife here is wonderful with children.”

“Oh, how lovely! What a lucky man, you are.”

“Ah, yes. I thank the Goddess of Mana every day.”

Duran’s mind decided to up and leave him, so he just sat there. Letting the two speak, letting Hawkeye talk…endearingly about him to a complete stranger.

Th-that thief! What was he trying to do?!

“Oh-hoho!” the elderly woman laughed, sounding and appearing absolutely delighted. “Always such a treat to meet such loving couples. I wish you three the safest of journeys.”

“Not to worry; I always take care of my precious little family.”

The elderly beastman uttered another joyous laugh as she turned and slowly toddled away.

It wasn’t until she was out of sight that Duran finally turned toward Hawkeye and glared at him. “What the hell was all that about?”

“What?” Hawkeye returned, feigning innocence as he pulled away from him and leaned casually in his chair. “Needed an excuse to explain where Ludgar came from, didn’t we?”

“No, we didn’t. And that didn’t help!”

Hawkeye continued to look utterly amused as he draped an arm over the back of his chair. “My,” he all but purred at him. “Are you blushing?”

Duran had enough. He pushed himself to his feet, cradling a blissfully oblivious Ludgar in his arms. “From your stupidity!”

“Awww, honey, don’t be like that~!”

“Sh-shut up!”

Hawkeye’s laughter followed him as Duran stalked off in a huff.

Stupid Hawkeye. Making fun of him in front of an old woman. Making her think they were…something that wasn’t true. Imagine them? A couple? Such nonsense!

“We couldn’t help but notice that your heart raced for a few moments there, Duran,” Faerie noted. Gleefully at that.

Duran abruptly paused in his steps and unconsciously raised a hand to rest against his chest. To his dismay, he noted that Faerie had been right; his heart was beating quicker than usual.

The Elementals all began to prattle in his head, distracting him once more. The only one not engaging in the frivolous conversation was Shade. Although, the Dark Elemental did utter a small sigh of exasperation. No doubt predicting the conversation to come.

“Hmm, if not for the child, it could have been a very romantic dinner for two.”

“But did you not see how Hawkeye was admiring Duran the entire time? It’s love, I am sure of it!”

“You know what that scene needed more of; romantic candlelight. Am I right?”

“I would have liked for them to engage deeper in conversation. Communication is vital, after all!”

“Too much sitting, and not enough doing in my opinion. They need to do something to get the blood pumping!”

“N-not with a child nearby!”

“Hawhaw, it sure was a shame it wasn’t a real date, that’s for sure!”

W-would everyone just stop it already?!

He couldn’t afford to let his face get any redder…

It wasn’t…it wasn’t anything like that. It wasn’t a date. Hawkeye wasn’t really flirting with him. He was joking, being sarcastic when he called him…called him darling and honey. Just to patronize him in some way.

That was all.

And that kind stung. The centre of his chest hurt at that fact.

…Maybe he was a tad annoyed that it wasn’t real.

Ludgar suddenly started crying. Loudly. But it was different. More shrilled and high-pitched. He hadn’t heard such a sound come from a baby before. It immediately made him fear that something was seriously wrong with the little beastman.

That was until he felt that prickly feeling of being watched on the back of his neck.

Duran cradled the beastmen baby in the crook of his left arm as his right hand instinctively reached to snare the handle of his sword. Keeping Ludgar curled in his arm, he spun around and unholstered his sword, lowering it sharply into a defensive position in front of him.

“Who’s there?!” he demanded. “Come out!”

There was no response. Unsurprisingly. And frustratingly, he couldn’t see anything, either. Nothing solid or complete. Nothing physical. Just fleeting glimpses from the corner of his eyes. There was no rustling of leaves or shrubberies, however. There wasn’t even a breeze.

He was just looking at the shadows of the woods around him.

As suddenly as he had started crying, Ludgar’s cries softened into quiet little sniffles and whimpers. Duran himself felt his shoulder lose some of their tension. His protective stance slowly easing into caution. The threat, whatever it was, had passed. For now.

Duran kept an eye on his surroundings as he re-holstered his sword and gently comforted Ludgar.

There was no doubt. It wasn’t in his head. Someone or something was definitely stalking him. Watching him when he was alone from the shadows of the forest. Who they were or what they wanted, he didn’t know. And that frustrated him.

Whatever that thing was that Ludgar sensed, it scared the life out of him.

“I sensed a presence,” Shade murmured.

Presence? As in a spirit?

“Yes, there is no mistake. Quite…intriguing. Similar to those aboard the ghost ship that had ensnared me.”

Ghost ship, huh? So, there was another haunted location somewhere close by? With spirits roaming about, there had to be something keeping them around. More importantly, though; why were they following him?

“There you are!”

The sound of Kevin’s voice startled Duran for a moment, tensing out of sheer instinct. But he soon calmed himself and turned in the direction of the voice. He watched, idly bouncing a quiet Ludgar in his arms.

“Found family,” Kevin told him eagerly. “They’ll watch Ludgar for us.”

“Ah, good,” Duran replied, honestly relieved.

Kevin nodded his head in his usual enthusiastic manner. however, he unexpectedly paused and tilted his head to the side. “Seem tense. Something the matter?”

Duran mildly chided himself before shaking his head. “It’s nothing. Best get Ludgar to his new family. The little guy is likely tired after eating all that food.”

Kevin seemed satisfied with that and nodded his head. “Yes. Come, I’ll show you to the family.”

“Right.”

#trials of mana #fanfiction #Fighting For You #Duran #Hawkeye #Kevin

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hogwartshousesreactions · 4 years

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Tom Riddle One Shot

I scribbled a short one shot about Tom Riddle x OC the previous night since I couldn’t sleep & decided to share it. It’s kinda connected to my long fanfiction about Tom, so two things you should know before reading:

- He and the heroine have made a blood pact that can make them feel each other’s presence, strong emotions (and some more things not required to know for the shot), they promised each other loyalty (not in a romantic way), not to lie to each other etc. If they break the pact, they die.

- The heroine was the first person to recieve the Dark Mark.

I think that’s it, enjoy!

Warning: Gets a bit pervy, but no smut.

The room was dimly lit by the dying fire and seemed completely empty at first sight. For Diana, it wasn't. The feeling of heat flowing through her veins the moment she stepped into the greenish common room told her she was not alone. Walking downstairs, she eventually noticed a dark outline of a head slowly turning towards her, belonging to someone sitting on the couch.

"What are you doing here?" asked the said head, looking at her judgmentally.

Diana smiled feebly, for she was happy with what she found. Tom Riddle was sitting right before her with a thick, leather-bound book, alone during this December night. He had felt her presence just as fast as she felt his.

"Will you ever stop reading at night?" she asked innocently, slowly approaching the couch. "It's not good for your eyes, you know."

"Answer me," he said threateningly, but she didn't bat an eye. Instead, she just smoothed out her nightdress and sat right beside him.

It was very brief, Tom thought. Barely covered her thighs, even less when she was sitting. Why did she sleep in this in the middle of winter? This was the smallest of his concerns, though, since he couldn't help looking at her. It made him feel some kind of way he has never felt about any girl before.

"Could ask you the same thing," she said eventually. "I can't sleep."

Now that she was closer, she looked at him properly, his body lit partially by the fire, partially by the greenish aura the dungeons' windows emitted. He was barefoot just like her, had long pants on and a dark shirt which showed a bit of his collarbone. Diana had no idea why she liked it so much and she did everything in her power not to stare at it.

"And this is why you decided to disturb me?" he asked pretentiously, having coughed loudly.

"Had I known you were there, I would've come sooner," replied Diana, smiling broadly just to mess with him.

Tom said nothing. He glanced at Diana's bare legs again, then conposed himself immediately and glared at her. She eventually rolled her eyes.

"Don't give me this look, Riddle," she said with a serious face, her playful smile long gone. "I had no idea you were there. I don't follow you around like some people."

"But you felt me," he argued.

"It was when I- Oh, so what? The common room is for everyone. This is what common means, you know?"

Diana knew she used the right card. Tom Riddle hated being thought to be devoid of any knowledge, especially such trivial facts. She felt more and more heat in her body with a bit of anger, meaning he was getting mad.

"Someone's getting angry," said Diana, moving closer to him.

Their thighs touched, and both of them noticed, but neither of them mentioned it. Tom swallowed hard. It was beginning to bother him, and he felt it. He knew he had to calm himself - otherwise Diana would feel it soon, too. Both of them have already noticed they felt each other's emotions only if said emotions were strong enough.

Diana leaned towards him carefully and it didn't help him. She looked curiously at the book he was still holding.

"Now, what could the great Tom Riddle be reading at two in the morning?"

She scanned the page with her eyes quickly, barely seeing the words in the darkness. She wondered how Tom managed to read in such conditions but it wasn't the first time he surprised her.

"Dark magic of antiquity... I've read this. Good choice, I must say."

Tom closed the book with one swift move, knowing well she wouldn't let him read it again. She was getting closer and closer and he had to focus on something else, immediately.

"I didn't ask for your opinion," he snapped.

"Oh, Tom," she moaned impatiently. "When will you finally understand I'm on your side? I'm not your enemy, stop fighting with me."

Her moan made him feel weird again. He coughed in a futile attempt of distinguishing his emotions. Something was building up inside of him dangerously fast and it was just a matter of time before she felt it too. He was slowly beginning to lose to his own feelings.

He put the book on the table in front of them, then sat back in the same position. Diana took this time to examine him even more closely. She noticed his hair wasn't messy, it looked perfectly fine, so it meant he didn't even try to fall asleep, he came straight to the common room. She wondered how long he was going to stay there, because she was willing to stay with him.

"Are you even going to sleep tonight?" she asked and he raised his eyebrows.

"Depends."

"On what?"

Tom didn't reply and eventually decided to fight back. He knew he was the only person who could make Diana defenceless, but only if he played it right.

"Don't you think you ask too many questions?" he asked quietly, then cupped her face with one of his hands. Diana didn't expect that; it sent a pleasurable shiver down her spine.

"Don't you think you're too stubborn?" she retorted, doing the same thing as him.

They stayed still for a moment, gazing into each other's eyes for no reason. The silence in the room let them hear their own heartbeats, fast and loud in their ears.

"Look at this, Tom," Diana whispered suddenly, guiding his head to look at her left forearm. "I have already promised my loyalty, twice," she added, pointing at the black mark he created: the skull with a snake slithering out of its mouth.

By then, she was way too close. Tom glanced down again. Her thigh was almost completely bare, since the nightdress pulled itself up. She was so close her leg was almost on his - any closer and she would be practically sitting in his lap. He wanted to avoid this, for he was sure this would be the final straw.

"Have you given this to anyone else?" she asked, creating him an opportunity to dominate.

"Lestrange and Avery," he replied truthfully.

"Them? I thought this would differ me from them," Diana said angrily, leaning back a little.

Tom didn't know why he didn't like her this far away. Even though earlier he wanted to stop it, now he knew it was impossible. He didn't care about Diana feeling his emotions anymore, better - he wanted her to feel them. Heat raised in him and he let it take over.

"It can be arranged," he said in a lower tone than normally, making Diana raise her eyebrows.

"What do you mean?"

"Come closer," he demanded, shocking Diana even more.

"Even closer?"

Tom was growing impatient. He grabbed both her hands and pulled her towards him, forcing her to sit in his lap - eventually. Diana had to take a deep breath, completely surprised but pleased. She was just inches from his face, beginning to sense some weird kind of sensantion in her stomach.

Tom pulled out his wand out of nowhere, then took her left hand ever so gently and pointed his wand at the mark. Diana felt some kind of tingling and burning for a moment, then he left the wand beside him. He grabbed her wrist and showed her the change he made: now there were two snakes coming out of the skull, both wrapped around each other, their heads facing one another.

"Two snakes now. One for me and one for you. Nobody else will have this."

Diana looked at the new mark with a smile dancing at the corners of her mouth. This was the best gift she could have ever recieved from him, she was sure of it.

She fidgeted in Tom's lap a little, causing him to stifle a moan. She already knew what was up. This was the last straw.

"You're... A bit excited," she said with a playful giggle, and Riddle coughed.

"Nothing is for free, Diana," he replied darkly an inch from her face. He was so distracted he didn't even notice when she used Legilimency and saw exactly what he was thinking about.

"Oh... I see," she whispered and finally closed the gap between them, kissing him with all the passion she could. And, for the first time, Tom Riddle kissed her back, feverishly, aggresively, beginning a night for both of them to remember.

#tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #riddle #tom #one shot #harry potter #tom riddle one shot #tom riddle x oc #hp #potterhead #lord voldemort #voldemort #voldemort x oc

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the-ballad-of-the-shredder · 4 years

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Skekzym/Skekmal fanfiction blah

It was seven months after she has became pregnant. The increased size in Skekzym's stomach region, has earned her a few appalled glances. Over the course of her pregnancy, she has heard many give their distasteful remarks. Skekayuk and Skekekt would often express their disgust in the fact a Skekling would be around. They fear that such a thing will: Wreak havoc around castle, scream at all hours of the night, and cause problems for everyone in general. Skekok was on the side of everyone else, but he also curious. Skekzym was the first Skeksis to experience a pregnancy, so he had questions that needed to be documented.

Skekzym had no idea when this skekling will be born, but it seemed like everyday. Her mate Skekmal has gotten more agitated by the day. For weeks now. Skekzym has noticed that he would pace around the room, and intenstly stare at any skeksis or gelfling guard that came close to his mate. One Skekzym just finally had it.

"Mal..." Zym said quietly. She looked at the hunter who has stopped in his tracks. He quietly watched her, and waited for her to speak.

"It's been a few weeks since you last been on a hunt," She spoke up. "Why don't you just give yourself a break. I doubt our Skekling will be visiting us now," She said before telling him "Why don't you go out for a hunt. Just back by Night,"

Skekmal was at a crossroad. He really wanted to go for a hunt, well more like he really needed to go on a hunt. Yet he also wanted to stay with Skekzym, just in cause she went into labor. He was standing there thinking for what felt like forever. The hunter was battling every thought he had, before giving in to the hunt. "Alright, I'll be back before dark," He said before he charged. It was a forty-three minutes after Skekmal has left. Skekzym began to feel pain in her stomach. It was a severe pain that he hasn't felt before. She slowly walked herself down to the lab. Skekzym grabbed at her stomach, and let out a few pained screeches. Doors began to open around the castle so they could hear whoever was filling the halls with their bellows and groans.

"Apothecarist why are you screaming like a armalig" yelled Skekvar. The general is pissed that he was woken up so early in the morning. He stood in front of her as he stared down at her. He soon noticed that she was holding on to her stomach. "Are you sick?!" he snapped.

"I'm in labor" she snapped at the dim-witted general. She pushed past the general, and continued on her path to the lab. It was a good 10 minutes before she finally reached the lab.

"You're causing me tribulation with your strumpetious presence," Skektek said. He waved off Skekzym before turning around to work on his machine. "I am more momentous concerns at the moment,"

"Skektek, I'm in labor" she has snapped at him.

"Oh that's such a predicament, you're in Apothecarist" Skektek said without turning around. "I can't see how that's my problem" he said with a bit of amusement in his voice. They're some rare moments where Skektek felt this good about himself. He felt like justice was served on somebody who wronged him. "Where is Skekmal anyways, the impotent oaf couldn't fuss to show up". Soon as the scientist tried to open his mouth again for another insult. He felt somebody grab him by the neck, he felt the pressure of their grip increases. He could feel himself unable to breathe, and he tried to pry off whoever's hand that was upon his neck. Panic began to set in, before the hand was violently released. Skektek fell to the ground and began to cough loudly, before looking at his attacking. "Skekzym, you brute" He coughed and took large breaths.

Skezym was filled with rage. "Look here, I need help delivering my skekling. If you don't help me" She snapped before adding on "I will force feed you one of various of poison potions, until you beg for death!" Skekzym snapped. Skektek felt his heart sank, and chill go up his spine.

"Of course, I'll help you" He said.

---------------

It was five hours after Skektek has agreed to help her, and the skekling was just born. Skektek held the skekling in his hands before giving a face of disgust. He felt so much rage against skektek, upon the Skekling for looking so much like her father. He stared at the skekling's purple skin, Its green eyes, and even its brown beak. All of it reminded him so much of Skekmal. It wasn't fair. He began get thoughts in his head like "Why did Skekzym chose that oaf, Why did she agree to bare his skekling. Skekmal is nothing much than a wild animal, how could she love that. Especially over him. Skektek tried to shake the thoughts out of his head he noticed Skekling's small and frail size. A small smile formed on Skektek's face before he thought to himself again. "That impotent bastard couldn't even give her a healthy looking skekling" He laughed a bit before handing the skekling into Skekzym's hand.

Skekzym smiled at the skekling. She began to get frown, before speaking to herself. "It's so sad that Skekmal didn't get to see this" she felt so guilty for sending Skekmal away for a hunt, and having him miss the birth. The skekling began to cry loudly, which scared Skekzym at first. She didn't know what to do at first, but quickly remembered reading about chidling care in a gelfling book. She was almost a natural at it, she cradled the skekling. lightly shushing it before calming her down. "You so much like your father... Don't you" she laughed. She began to speak more to the skekling. "You're going to meet him soon enough, he'll back before night"

------

It was late in the night when Skekmal finally returned to the castle. He was covered in blood, feathers, and fur. The hunter never felt so relieved in his life before. The hunt was just what he needed, but he was also so ready to get to sleep. He let a small yawn before heading to his room. Skekmal has turned the corner to see a group of Skeksis all gathered around talking. The relaxing peace he had, was soon gone. He began to growl a bit. He assumed they were gossiping about some petty drama that happened over dinner. Skekmal tried to get past them without getting noticed, before soon as they saw him. They gathered around him giving him praise and congratulation. The hunter was both confused and ticked off with them. "What are you going on about" He roared at them.

The other skeksis quietly began quietly, shifting their eyes around at each other. Wondering who will be brave enough to tell him the news. A few moments passed more, they could see that Skekmal was getting increasingly impatient as he waited for somebody to answer him. One of the skeksis pushed Skekayuk forward. Skekayuk froze in place looking back at the others, before clearing his throat. "Oh, nobody told you the news" he nervously chuckled.

"Obviously I haven't heard it Gourmand, Just spit it out!" Skekmal blurted out in rage.

Skekayuk cleared his throat again, "The apothecarist has given birth this Afternoon" Skekayuk nervously said. "She still in the scientist's la---" before Skekayuk could even finish the sentence. Skekmal was already down the hall rushing to find Skekzym. Skekmal's emotions were all over the place. He felt: A little pissed about missing the birth, Excited about the birth of his skekling, and pissed about how long it took the Skeksis to tell him. The Hunter almost smashed into Skektek as he ran into the lab. He scanned around the lab until he saw Skekzym, he quickly made his way to his mate. "Where is the Skekling" he demanded.

Skekzym smiled before unwrapping a small skekling from its blanket. "Here she is" she smiled. Skekmal felt so excited that he tried to teach for her. Only to be blocked by Skekzym. Skekmal froze a bit, his heart was racing from all the excitment. He was so tense that he felt like he was going to explode. "Wh..whats wong?" he said.

"You're covered in blood, she'll get sick" Skekzym said, before Skekzym could even blink. Skekmal ignored her and quickly pulled the skekling from her grasp. Skekmal couldn't take it anymore, he just had to hold her. Skekmal tried to keep it together, he was just so overwhelmed with emotion. He could almost feel his eyes water, but he quickly got a control of himself. The Hunter began to pace around with the Skekling, he purred a bit before giving her little head nudges. Skekmal couldn't believe it, he just couldn't believe that he made this creature. This was his creation, and only his. He was already vowing to destroy anybody who would dare take her from him.

"I named her Skekzal" Skekzym broke the silence. "Now hand her over Mal" she commanded, but the Hunter refused to give up Skekzol from his arms. Skekzol began to loudly cry, which spoked Skekmal. He didn't know what he did wrong, and quickly looked at Skekzym for answer. "What did I do?" He yelled to his mate.

"Relax she's just hungry, give her here" Zym said with arms open. Skekmal finally gave in to his mate and handed over the skekling.

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littlemissnack · 4 years

Text

The Next Generation Part 3 Chapter 9

The story of Albus Potter, Rose Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy, and the countless adventure’s they get into in there years at Hogwarts.

To start reading from the beginning click here: http://littlemissnack.tumblr.com/tagged/fanfiction

Here is the fanfiction link if you would prefer to read it on there: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/9303697/1/The-Next-Generation

And Movellas: https://www.movellas.com/story/201309292252551812-the-next-generation

And AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/807773 Or if you prefer to read it on here, here you go:

A/N: Well 2 years in the making and here it is! That’s right I’ve finally updated! I’m hoping that now I’ve got a lot more time on my hands I’ll be able to update more but unfortunately I can’t guarantee upload dates but what I will say is keep your eyes posted couse I’m not planning on leaving it that long between chapters again! To those who have stuck with this story thank you so much! Your all so amazing and I love you all and you guys are the reason I’m keeping this story going! I will find a way to finish this story for all of you! So without further ado please enjoy this chapter and look forward to another one in the near future!

Albus’s eyes began to get heavy as the evening drew on, even Thalia had to admit her head was getting fried with all the time they were spending in the library lately. For the past month Albus and Thalia had been waking up at 5 a.m. to get a solid hour and a half of researching the journal before school, then they would go to breakfast and discuss the journal with the group then attend the morning classes, where they were both thankful there was no talking permitted, then after lunch they would both return to the library for half an hour of journal studying before afternoon classes. After classes were done for the day if Albus didn’t have Quiddich practice, they would spend an hour on homework for classes and the rest of the evening study in the journal again. Sometimes Rose and Scorpius would join them sometimes Rose Scorpius and Sienna would try and help, and often Sienna would join them, much to Thalia’s annoyance who found Albus’s concentration slip whenever Sienna appeared. However more often than not it was just Albus and Thalia. The pair spent so many hours studying the journal that the symbols had began blurring into one.

“Come on Al, we have a solid half hour before the library closes, don’t give up yet!” Thalia tried to perk him up. Albus groaned in response and Thalia found she barely had the energy to keep herself awake yet alone Albus.

“Why can’t we just get this!? Why is it these languages only come easy to us when we don’t need them, and not when we do!? What’s the use of having this other language that only we can understand if most of the time we can’t even understand it!” Albus moaned closing the journal to write out symbols.

“Look I know it’s frustrating, believe me I know, I have lived my entire life with this language in my head and only having vague ideas what it means. So you don’t have to snap at me, I can’t wait for this to be translated either. But moaning at me isn’t going to get either of us anywhere!” Thalia warned with an edge to her voice Albus hadn’t heard before. Albus straightened up immediately.

“I’m sorry, you’re right I’m not helping by complaining. I’ve been on edge lately I’m sorry I shouldn’t take it out on you.” Albus sheepishly admitted. Thalia looked up from the book she had been trying to read and studied Albus for a moment.

“This snappy attitude wouldn’t have anything to do with the 21st anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts celebrations would it?” Thalia rolled her eyes and sympathetically glanced at Albus. Albus sighed

“I don’t know why they’ve decided to throw this big celebration now anyway! Shouldn’t they wait till the 50th or something? And why at Hogwarts? I mean I know it was the place of the battle but couldn’t they have gone somewhere else!?… Why does he have to come here now? As if I don’t get reminded of his accomplishments enough!” Albus slammed his head on the desk in defeat. Ever since the headmistress had announced that Hogwarts would be hosting a 21st anniversary celebration for the battle for all the families of the students and any other members of the wizarding public to attend, with the finale being an exciting speech from Harry Potter himself, Albus had felt nothing but dread.

“Look Albus, I know you hate being compared to your dad, but this celebration isn’t about you or even your family, it’s about celebrating the victory and mourning the losses of the battle that gave us our freedom. I know it’s hard for you being around your dad especially in public, but you have to make it through this, for everyone who fought in the battle.” Thalia put a hand on Albus’s shoulder in comfort.

“You’re right, you’re always right, why do you always have to be right?” Albus sighed and laughed gently shaking his head. Thalia smiled softly

“It’s just who I am.” Thalia joked “I’m sorry you struggle with your dad so much, it can’t be easy having a father that everyone will always compare you too. But if you ask me, I think you’re just as much a hero as he is.” Thalia tried to comfort him. The corners of Albus’s mouth turned up just slightly.

“Thanks Tha, I wish I could believe that. I don’t really feel like thinking about this anymore, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but let’s get back to the journal please?” Albus smiled turning back to the books sprawled across the table. Thalia picked up her pen and started studying the journal that was placed between them again, when it happened very suddenly. To Thalia it was like a light had flickered into life and everything slid into place, she’d been staring at the journal and suddenly the words appeared in front of her eyes. Albus looked over to see Thalia frantically scribbling in her notebook almost as if in a trance.

“Thalia! Tha what’s happening!? What are you doing!?” Albus stared in bemusement.

“I’ve got it!” Thalia excitedly announced not taking her eyes off the journal as she frantically sribbled before the words vanished.

The next day Albus and Thalia could barely contain their excitement and nerves, after arriving back in the dorms that evening they had informed Scorpius and Rose that they needed a meeting before breakfast and they would let Sienna know on the way to breakfast to go to the library instead.

“Can’t you just tell us what this is about?” Rose asked growing impatient waiting for Albus to collect Sienna.

“No, everybody needs to hear this together!” Thalia tapped her foot she waited staring at the door, Rose let out a big sigh as Scorpius rolled his eyes. Suddenly the doors flew open and the gang spotted Albus briskly pulling Sienna over to the group. Sienna barely had time to put her bag down when Albus pulled her chair out and quickly sat next to her.

“Okay what so important that I needed to skip breakfast?” Sienna folded her arms sceptically. Albus glanced at Thalia who bit her lip.

“We have a paragraph.” Albus announced. Shocked silence fell upon the group, no one daring to speak for fear they’d misheard. “It was Thalia really, she was brilliant! It was like it just clicked to her and she got it!” Albus excitedly rambled. Thalia blushed at his complement, making Sienna look away to regain her composure.

“What does it say!?” Scorpius lent forward in anticipation. Thalia began to read out the passage she had managed to translate.

Today I discovered her true intentions. What a fool I have been to believe

her intentions honest. I gave my assistance to a plot most foul, a plot of murder,

she tells me that by purging the world of the sinful witchcraft we shall save countless lives,

but she fails to account for the countless lives that will be destroyed should we continue.

I fear she cannot see the true horror of her actions and that this potion, of which I have helped to create, will unleash true horror upon the millions of innocent magical folk.

Oh what a fool I was! Believing her to simply purge magic, when her true intention was the purging of magical people.

There was a sharp intake of breath as Thalia stopped at the end of the passage.

��oh my merlin!” Rose stared ahead of her in shock.

“I can’t be the only one who didn’t understand that right!?” Sienna looked around at the serious faces looking at one another. It was Albus who managed to speak first.

“Morana. We think they are talking about her” Albus stated however Sienna continued to look blankly back waiting for him to continue.

“She made a potion to destroy everyone with magic in their blood.” Scorpius finally dared to speak the words they all feared to say aloud. Sienna’s eyes widened in slow realisation.

“Can she do that!? Is it even possible?” Sienna asked turning instinctively to Rose. Rose looked gravely back at her.

“Not a lot of ancient spells and potions weren’t able to be recorded for fear muggles would find them, the spells and potions we have now either came about after wizards created their own communities or were able to be passed down in families. There’s probably hundreds of spells ancient wizards created that we know nothing about so…. It’s entirely possible.” Rose sighed.

“Do you think she wants to…” Thalia couldn’t finish her sentence, Albus was the only one who looked back at her.

“Maybe, She seems pretty passionate about her hatred.” Albus begrudgingly shrugged. It was Sienna who finally broke the haunting silence.

“How would that even work anyway? She’s a witch the potion would kill her too!” She pointed out.

“My best bet would be she built some kind of a fail safe into it. A way for the caster not to get killed while enacting the potion. But I wouldn’t have a clue how.” Rose admitted.

“I know this is grim, but we need to look on the bright side…. We know what she’s doing now! We know her plan!” Scorpius grabbed Rose’s arm in excitement causing her to blush unconsciously.

“Yeah congratulations to us, we’ve figured out she wants to enact a potion that we have no idea about, that could potentially kill us all with no idea where she is or what she’s doing right now. Although now I have a more educated guess that it’s probably gathering the unknown ingredients she needs to kill us all….i feel so relieved!” Sienna rolled her eyes her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Okay so we may not have all the answers yet but were a step closer at least” Scorpius realised he had grabbed Roses arm and dropped it going red in the face as he realised his excitement had got the better of him.

“I know it’s time consuming but the fact that you were able to translate this paragraph means there’s a whole heap of words you guys can now translate that gives you a base for a lot of sentences! If you guys spend some more time on the journal your sure to get it, How about you sneak into the boys dorm Thalia, Albus can give you a signal when it’s clear, you can muffliato your voices and read more of the journal at night, your bound to crack even more of it if you spend even more time on it! And now we have the name Morana it’ll be easier for the rest of us to find stuff on her in the library. We need to keep on with what were doing.” Rose strategized

“You want her to sneak into his dorm at night?” Sienna clarified “I’m sure there already getting sick of spending nearly every hour of the day with each other yet alone the night…” Sienna watched as Albus and Thalia smiled at each other.

“If it’s to help us find Morana and stop her faster then…” Thalia bit her lip as she looked up at Albus and shrugged “We’ll do what we have to do.” Sienna’s smirk turned sour.

Albus nudged Thalia in the ribs “I’ll make it worth your valuable sleep time we’ll have a laugh, make it fun.”

“Then it’s settled!” Rose smiled contently. Scorpius glanced over with a slightly concerned look to Sienna who looked positively venomous as she stood up grabbing her bag.

“Great.” Sienna responded dryly as she marched her heels clopping as she went. As she excited the library she ran into Polly, Penny & Elara.

“Hey Si… are you okay” Polly’s smile faded as she noticed Sienna’s murderous look.

“What’s up?” Elara placed her hand on Sienna’s shoulder out of concern. Sienna, who had become remarkably good at thinking on her feet realised her friends didn’t have to know the ENTIRE reason she was mad.

“Boys.” Sienna simply replied. The three girls smiled knowingly and sympathetically at her.

“Come on, I think you need some girl talk!” Penny and Elara linked their arms to Sienna’s as Polly marched them forward and Sienna sighed accepting that maybe this was what she needed.

Sienna, Polly, Penny and Elara sat out by the great lake allowing the April sun to wash over them as they discussed the frustration that was boys, Albus in particular. Sienna had pretty quickly found herself collapsing back into the grass as she unloaded her troubles while the rest of the girls sat beside her. As Sienna continued describing how annoying it was to have Albus be either completely oblivious or too shy to actually do anything about her obvious feelings for him, the rest of the girls had sunk into the grass next to her until they were all in a line staring up at the floating clouds sympathizing with Sienna, after all oblivious boys were something they all understood far too well.

“I’ve been so obvious with him he’d have to be damn well blind at this point not to notice I’m interested! I mean what else can I do other than scream it in his face!” Sienna leaned up to face the girls who turned there heads towards her. “Seriously can he actually be that dumb or am I just being an idiot and not taking the signs that he’s clearly not interested?”

“You would be surprised at just how dumb boys can be when it comes to girls!” Penny sighed “I mean even I can see you flirting from him from all the way over at the Slytherin table!”

“So you think he’s knows but he’s just not interested. You think he’s into Thalia.” Sienna sighed.

“It’s too hard to say right now, I don’t think even Albus knows who he’s into!” Polly rolled her eyes. “But right now I think you have to make him make the next move. Stop throwing yourself at him and let him make up his own mind, let him realise what he’s missing and come to you for a change”

Sienna contemplated this and sunk herself back into the grass “But what if he chooses her…”

“Then he chooses her and you move on to someone better who appreciates you! Albus is your friend and so is Thalia if he chooses her then don’t you owe it to her to give them the same courtesy she offered to give you and let him go?” Elara wisely offered as Sienna groaned in frustration.

“I mean, there are at least 100 boys better looking than Albus Potter at Hogwarts. Sure, his dad's a big deal, but there are so many hotter dudes… Just look at Elliot!” Polly smirked at Elara who immediately sat upright and shoved her fingers in her ears.

“Ew! Gross! Guys you know how I feel about you talking about my brother like an actual dating option! Besides he’s SO gross, you should all see his side of our bedroom at home, I bet you wouldn’t like him so much after that!” Penny and Polly looked at each other smirking at Elara’s discomfort

“Hmmm, when you're that hot you don’t need to be tidy!” Penny winked at Polly who pretended to swoon.

“Ooh, and that body!” Polly and Penny fell about laughing as Elara shuddered. Sienna smiled at her friends before she heard the faint noise of footfalls, someone was coming towards them. Sienna sat up and looked behind her but she couldn’t find the source of the footsteps, she looked over to her friends who had been so wrapped up in there jokes that they hadn’t heard the noise.

“We’re too close to the barrier, get back here!” Sienna saw a glimpse of a foot just across the lake before it quickly disappeared again. With her friends so invested in there merriment Sienna got up to follow the sound unnoticed. Sienna walked towards where she had seen the feet, when suddenly two men appeared before her heading in the direction of the forest. Sienna quickly but quietly trailed behind them attempting to overhear their conversation, Sienna realised that the men weren’t in any kind of robes, instead the pair were wearing muggle clothing. Sienna would have believed they were muggles who had aimlessly wondered in had they not mentioned the barrier.

“ Hurry we’re already late, you know Mistress doesn’t like us being late!”

“Do you think Mistress will punish us like she did the last ones…”

“Hush! I think I hear someone!” Sienna mentally cursed herself for stepping on the twig and she pressed her body to the tree and prayed they wouldn’t look. Sienna could hear the second mans footsteps getting closer and closer and Sienna’s squeezed her eyes shut with fear. Sienna could almost feel his breath as he was about to round the tree she was behind.

“Jim, there’s no one there and we’re already late!” called the other. Jim looked back at the first man then studied the tree again and finally replied.

“Okay but I’ll cover your back to make sure we’re not followed.” Jim replied. Sienna silently cursed as she realised she wouldn’t be able to follow them and stayed locked against the tree until she was sure the sound of footsteps and chatter had passed before she ran back to the castle to find the group.

#fanficiton #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter next generation #harry potter 3rd generation #Albus Severus Potter #James Sirius Potter #lily luna potter #rose weasley #hugo weasley #roxanne weasley #Fred Weasley II #molly weasley II #lucy weasley #victoire weasley #dominique weasley #louis weasley #teddy lupin #scorpius malfoy

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saltymyrmidon · 6 years

Text

6. sibling!inigo/lucina; feawakening; 1836 words

notes: -So I forgot that I needed to post something today because I’ve been busy with anime cons so here I am -I wrote this like six months ago -You can find the previous two chapters/oneshots of this sibling!lucina/inigo fic on fanfiction if you know where to find it -I started writing it again because I really love their sibling dynamic almost as much as I love the actual ship, but it has been ages since I played awakening and so I never finished it! -I probably screwed up the plot! Who knows! I’m not surprised!

There are times when Inigo wishes he wasn’t a prince.

It’s stupid, right? It’s cheesy and embarrassing. But as much as the idea makes him cringe, he can’t help but think about it sometimes. In his rare moments of spare time, between fighting and trying not to let down his country or his sister or trying to uphold his father’s memory or struggling to be something his mother might be proud of, Inigo will allow himself to dream.

He doesn’t expect anyone else to understand. Owain is constantly boasting of his royal blood and, in the rare moments that he actual drops his games, has confessed that he really does take pride in his heritage and his brand. This leaves Lucina—Lucina is the only one that he could truly go to and he has a couple times back when they were younger, back when death wasn’t constantly knocking on Ylisse’s door. But his sister is so determined—she faces her problems with the same stoic grace she faces everything, and she puts aside all her worries or needs for the sake of her kingdom, and she is so goddamned perfect that Inigo doesn’t dare vent to her at all these days.

There is no time to vent, anyway. There is no time to do much of anything. The Risen push in towards Ylisstol, ever closer, and the surrounding countryside is in shambles. But still people pour into the city, refugees looking for healing and shelter. This war is getting nowhere. They are accomplishing nothing—just pushing back the inevitable.

There is no time for dreams anymore. There is no time for anything anymore. Despite their best efforts, no one can seem to get any sleep, and tensions are frayed. Cynthia loses the bounce to her step, and Owain starts confusing the names of his attacks. Kjelle and Severa will spend hours trading arguments. Yarne shrieks at any sort of small noise and he and Noire can often be found in tears. Graceful Inigo, ever the dancer, trips over his own feet one morning and nearly impales himself on his own sword. Their own exhaustion is going to get themselves killed one of these days, and all this does is stress them out more. The team is breaking and Ylisstol is crumbling and the Risen inch ever closer and they can’t figure out how to stop it.

Late one evening, Lucina gathers the few of them who are not even attempting to sleep and asks them to meet with her in the weapons room. Inigo trails behind her into a room that looks much more like a storage closet. Weapons of every sort are crammed onto every available surface. The room has barely enough space for a broken table and two chairs.

Severa is here, and so is Kjelle, and Gerome and Laurent. Yawning, Inigo sits up on the table and stretches one arm over his head, trying to play off his exhaustion the best he can. “Luce, what are we doing?”

Lucina shuts the door and leans her back against it, shutting her eyes. Her skin looks paper-white in the flickering candlelight; a brownish-yellow healing bruise snakes up her arm into her shirt, and even ignoring the lighting Inigo can see the dark circles under her eyes. Lucina has always been the best of all of them—always moving, always with a plan or a speech or something. But she’s as exhausted as the rest of them.

The look on her face is frightening. Despite how much he wants to claim otherwise, Inigo is the younger brother, and with their parents gone, she’s all he has. Lucina is his constant in this disaster of a world; seeing her scared only reminds him how truly terrifying their situation is.

“This isn’t working,” Severa guesses, breaking the stunned silence that has settled over the room. Lucina does not move; she does not acknowledge Severa’s words. Doing so would admit defeat, and Lucina will never give up.

“We need another plan,” Laurent rephrases. He’s holding the same book he’s been reading for the past five days. Inigo knows it’s the same book because he’s caught him reading out loud to himself in the library well after midnight, only to grow frustrated and throw it across the room as he realizes he can’t comprehend anything. “Protecting Ylisstol is a noble cause for sure, but it is like placing a simple bandage over an infection. We are not treating the wound’s cause. Effectively, we are doing nothing.”

“We’re protecting the people,” Kjelle snaps. “That is far from nothing.”

Inigo sighs. He’s tired of Kjelle and Severa snapping at every little comment. He’s tired of the others’ stoicism towards their arguments. He’s just tired. He sighs in exasperation, impatience creeping into his voice despite his best attempts to hide it. “You know what he meant, love. If you would just take a moment—”

Kjelle scowls. Normally her glare would be frightening, but right now he’s too tired to care. “I told you to stop calling me that, you little—”

“Did you have a plan already in mind? Or did you need us to help come up with ideas?”

Inigo blinks, turning around to see that Gerome has found a place to make himself invisible in a corner, somewhere between racks of axes and lances. He ignores the room’s surprise; he is focused on Lucina, who finally opens her eyes, blinking as some of her usual resolve flickers back into them.

“I had an idea,” she confirms. “I wanted to ask a few of you before I brought it up to everyone.”

“About what?” Inigo asks. What could she be thinking of? They’ve exhausted all their options just keeping Ylisstol standing. Even if Laurent is right, and they need to go after the source, they are no match for Grima—their parents proved that a long time ago. If not fighting the Fell Dragon directly, then— “You don’t mean—”

“The rite,” Lucina finishes with a nod.

Severa crosses her arms. “I thought all the gemstones were missing, and that’s why we’ve never tried it.”

“The gemstones are missing,” Lucina confirms, “Along with the Emblem, but… we have an idea of where they might be. Lady Tiki gave us an idea.”

“An idea? So we aren’t sure?” Kjelle asks.

“There’s no way of pinpointing their exact location. But if we know around where they are, we can do some investigating and look around and—”

Kjelle cuts her off. “It might be a wild goose chase. For all we know, Grima’s got the gemstones and the Emblem already. Who’s saying the rite would do anything anyway? If we leave Ylisstol unprotected, the city’s done for!”

Inigo jumps off the table. He’s tired of all the complaining, and the look of doubt that flickers in his sister’s eyes is the thing that finally breaks him. “Do you have a better idea?” He snaps, ignoring the way everyone’s eyes turn to him. “When are you going to realize that sitting around complaining isn’t going to change anything? We know we need a better plan! We know that we could end up with nothing! But we’ve got to do something, before we all end up killing each other before the Risen finally get us! So if you’ve got an better plan, Kjelle, I’d be glad to hear it.” Tirade over, he finally realizes that everyone is still staring at him; face flushed, he returns to his place at the table.

“…I’m sorry,” Kjelle whispers, her voice surprisingly small. “I’m sorry, Inigo. I didn’t mean—”

“I’m sorry,” he answers. “I didn’t mean to yell, love.” He adds on the diminutive in an attempt to get a rise out of her, and he does get a small smile in response.

“The gemstones,” Laurent says over the silence that has settled over the group.

Lucina snaps back to attention. “Yes. Lady Tiki says they’re scattered across the continent. Finding them… it’s not going to be easy.” She frowns again. There’s something hiding behind her expression. The team trades gazes across the weapons room; they all know what she’s thinking, but it is Severa who finally brings it up.

“We’re going to have to split up,” she says. “It’d take too long to reach them if we all traveled in a group.”

Lucina nods. “…Yes.”

“Well, we decide teams in the morning then, yeah?”

Lucina blinks, glancing back around the room. “You… we all agree? This is our plan?”

Severa scowls, flipping a ponytail over her shoulder and placing a hand on her hip. “Well, it’s like the prince says. No one’s got any better ideas, so what do you expect us to do?”

“We should talk in the morning, with everyone,” Kjelle says. “That would be the best time to decide teams.”

Kjelle’s words are an unspoken dismissal. Lucina steps to the side so that Kjelle and Severa can disappear into the hallway; Laurent and Gerome move a bit slower, but they follow in the direction of their rooms. Eventually, Inigo and Lucina are the only ones left. He jumps off the table again, this time deciphering his sister’s expression.

“Go to bed, sis,” he says when she does not move. With a smile, he adds, “Or else I’ll have to follow you, and then I’ll almost stab myself again, and Owain will never let me hear the end of it.”

“Don’t joke about things like that,” Lucina admonishes, but she gives him a small smile. The smile wavers as she takes a final glance around the weapons room. “Severa was right,” she says. “I never thought about how we would have to split up… Maybe this isn’t a good idea. I could be sending everyone to their deaths, and…”

“Luce.”

She looks up at him. She is worried, and while her fear does scare him a little, he does his best to hide it. She trusts him enough to show her true emotions when the others have gone away. Just like when he would complain about being royalty to her back when they were kids, Lucina is confiding in him now. So Inigo hides his fear the best he can, hoping that maybe he can be half as much a comfort for his sister as she is for him. “Everyone knows what they are getting themselves into. We’ve always known. We all want the same thing, and we’re going to do whatever it takes to get it. You aren’t leading us anywhere we wouldn’t already want to go.”

Lucina shakes her head, and her smile appears a bit more real this time. “You’re right,” she agrees. “Well, at any rate, we will figure out something in the morning. We should try to get some sleep.”

“Of course.” He follows his sister out of the room. No soldiers come to interrupt them and they do not speak much. It’s one of those brief moments that they have to themselves—where Inigo allows himself to think that maybe they do not have to be prince and princess, but just brother and sister.

#january #fanfiction #fire emblem #awakening #inigo/lucina

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