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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

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Hue and Cry V

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; abuse of power, chase, unwanted touching, confusing Bucky is confusing, handjob, fingering.

This is dark!medieval!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You set out for the capital.

Note: I didn’t expect to get this done so soon but here ya go! Last day of work for the week.

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

🏰 🏰 🏰

The night was interminable. Lord Barnes slept against you, his heat like flames across your flesh. Every time you pulled away, he latched onto you and brought you back to him. You stopped after the first hour, you succumbed to his hold and stared at the canopy with his arm stretched across your middle and his snores rumbling against your cheek.

When he woke, you had barely closed your eyes for more than ten minutes at a time. His hand slid down your body beneath the blanket and you held your breath as he pushed his fingers between your legs. You tensed and he drew away with a huff. He sat up and relieved himself in the chamber pot.

He called for a servant and soon his first meal was brought. He shared it with you, filling your plate with rashers and boiled egg. You ate only to appease him as your stomach twisted at the smell of food. When you finished, the dishes were cleared away and you were unused to being on the other side of the service.

Two servants came shortly after and carried a gown of teal brocade and a stack of accoutrements. You frowned as Barnes directed you up to your feet and ordered the pair of women to aid you in dressing. Your face questioned him but your words never came. He watched, still in his nightshirt, as you stared daunted at the garments.

You pulled on the shift before the women laced up the corset tight and you stepped into the heavy skirts. The sleeves attached to the bodice and your missing cap was replaced by a hood tailed with satin. You felt entirely out of place. When they finished and you were stiff as a board in the attire, Barnes dismissed them and began to dress.

“You are confused,” he said as he strapped on his arm, “a servant cannot openly travel with lords so if you are to ride in the carriage, you need to look the part.” He waved you over to help him into a pair of undershorts, “and…” he watched you as he stepped into his underclothes, “you look fine indeed.”

“Thank you, my lord, but I would not be unwant to travel with the servants--”

“I would,” he said tersely as you helped him into his tunic, “I want you with me as often as you can be, as close as you can be.”

You carried on and pulled up his breeches as he straightened the cuff around his artificial arm. He shrugged and groaned, “this damned thing,” he swore under his breath then looked at you again, “you don’t look at me the way they do… the arm… people can’t see it but they stare, they know. They expect it to just slip off and clatter to the floor like I’m some fool.”

“My lord,” you said gently.

“I’m not ashamed. It happened, it’s gone.” He said, “it’s just that others are and that makes me angry.”

“My lord,” you repeated again as you guided the heavy overcoat up his arms.

“I’m not ashamed of you either,” he touched the fabric of your skirt as you reached for the chain he’d wear around his neck, “but I do want you to look to others as I see you.”

“Yes, my lord,” you straightened the chain so the single sapphire hung in the centre of his chest.

“I never saw you as only a servant,” he turned and took his comb and brushed through his thick locks, “I tried, told myself it was… untoward but… here we are.”

You were quiet. He placed his comb back on the square table and turned to you. His eyes roved up and down your figure and he squared his shoulders.

“We will attend to our host as the servants ready the luggage. It should not be more than an hour before we are gone,” he declared, “and the journey will be strenuous.”

“My lord,” you breathed as he took your arm.

🏰

You'd never rode in a carriage before. The cushioned benches would be the envy of any servants afoot or crammed into the cart of luggage. You'd never worn a proper gown either and it wasn't as accommodating as the carriage. The corset pinched your waist and the brocade was stiff and scratchy.

As you set out, it was just you in the vehicle. You had a long cape around your shoulders as the closed windows hardly kept out the frosty morning. You were almost relieved to be alone, a breath from Barnes. You heard the horses' hooves in the dirt and the voices both familiar and not as the riders chattered. Soon, the carriage felt like a cage.

Just an hour after the sun reached its peak, the procession stopped. You listened through the carriage walls and pressed yourself to the seat as the door unclasped. Lord Barnes climbed in and offered you some dried meat and berries as he sat beside you. You took it and stared at the other bench, why couldn't he sit there?

The carriage jolted back into motion as you ate, the meat spicy and dry. He offered you a skin of water wordlessly as you finished and you kept your eyes through the window, the trees thinning out to pale fields. He sidled closer and you winced. You wanted badly to throw open the door and jump out, even if it ended in you being trampled or worse.

"You are quiet," he said.

"My lord," you murmured and stared at the cold horizon.

"Suppose we never spoke very much," he picked at your sleeve and rubbed the fabric between his fingers, "but I want you to make a habit now. You can speak to me."

And say what? You wondered. Did he think dressing you like a lady would truly make you one? You blinked and tried to ignore his lingering, if not pestering, touch.

"You are troubled. Tell me why?" He prodded. You kept quiet and he covered your hand with his, "please, tell me."

His tone brooked no defiance. You exhaled weakly and clenched your fist under his long fingers.

"My lord, with respect, do you believe those in the capital would be… accepting of a maid in lady's clothes? Do you think they'd be convinced by it?"

"Those in the capital are not my concern. They've not been for years and that will not suddenly change," he sighed, "if it was my decision, I would not attend but the king sent his invitation direct and is not within my prerogative to deny him."

"But must…" you began then clamped your lips shut at your error, "my lord."

"Must I bring you? That is what you thought to ask," he said, "I admit my actions have been sudden and I did not wish to frighten you so but… they were as much driven by the expediency of my departure as the intensity of my yearning."

You were still as he pried your hand open and forced his palm against yours.

"I am still only a servant even if you dress me up," you whispered and flicked your eyes with your fingers as tears threatened.

"To me, you are more," he vowed.

"No, you still… treat me as one," you tried to pull your hand from his grasp, "even if you think you do not and I can only ever be--"

"Enough," he snapped, "you grow bold and it does irk me. I have forgiven your missteps and you treat me as a beast."

You squirmed, your body still sore from his lashing. How quickly he forgot.

"My lord," you appeased and bent your head.

He sat back heavily and played with your hand. His breaths were heavy and angry as he thought. His grip tightened on you and he pulled your hand into his lap. You let him even as you went rigid and he turned your hand and rested it over his crotch. He pushed it firmly to his bulge.

"That is for you, servant or no," he groaned as you felt him twitch, "and that is your duty now."

You swallowed and batted your lashes. You were ashamed and appalled. You were to be his whore, you had no presumptions, but to hear him say it so overtly made it sink into your core like iron. You trembled as he moved your hand against his breeches. He led up and down his length as it throbbed desperately beneath the fabric.

"Look at me," he demanded.

You turned to him and hesitated before you could bring your eyes to his face. As a servant, you rarely were permitted to look at him straight. His face was limned in dark desire and tense with withheld lust. He slid your hand up and pushed your fingers beneath his breeches and the linen of his undershorts.

You tried to yank away from him but he forced you further down his pants. He urged your fingers around his cock and carried his former motion, up and down, up and down. He shuddered and squeezed your hand, an unspoken order. He drew his hand back and hooked his arm over your shoulders, his weight tugging on the tails of your hood.

He leaned his forehead against your temple as he moaned and you focused on your hand and the absurd activity of your own hand. He began to pant as he held you closer and you felt his muscles lock as he planted his boot firmly on the floor. The rock of the carriage and noise of horse hooves disguised his moans, your name floating around you.

"Quicker," he begged, "quicker, please."

You could do nothing more than what he bid. His lips tickled your cheek and he kissed your throat as he hunched down. He nibbled your skin and his hand tugged at your sleeve as you closed your eyes and just kept your hand moving. You began to shake too, afraid but more stunned. It was like every nerve in your body was alight.

He purred long and low as he sat back suddenly and pushed his hips out. He spasmed and you felt a warmth spill down your fingers. He reached down urgently and stopped younas he quaked and sputtered, "oh, oh, enough, please."

He pulled your hand from his trousers and you stared at his cum as it cooled between your knuckles. You tried to hide your disgust as he puffed and looked at the front of his pants. He swore as he felt the fabric, his mess seeping through both layers. He reached into his jacket and pulled a cloth free. He held it out to you.

"Clean yourself," he ordered, "try not to mess your gown."

You shakily wiped your hand with the cloth and he took it back to clean himself as best he could. "You did well," he rasped and folded the dirty side of the kerchief in and shoved it aside, "very well, sweeting."

His hand grazed the front of your gown and he slid off the bench. He bunched a handful of your skirt and slowly edged the hem up until you felt the cool air on your legs. You reached to stop him and he pressed his elbow against your side. A warning. His touched crawled beneath your skirts, gathered between his arm and your front, and under your shift, along the top of your stockings.

You held your breath and braced yourself against the seat as he cupped your cunt and you felt warmth gather in his palm. He pushed two fingers to you and slipped them along your folds. There was a peculiar slickness beneath them and you squeaked as he grazed a most sensitive spot. He rolled your bud beneath his fingertips and you grabbed his arm without thinking.

He kept you pinned with his arm against your torso, his hand nestled between your legs as he stretched his fingers along your cunt. He moved them up and down, lingering along that special spot and swirling, only to circle your entrance longingly but never going further.

He sped up as his fingers danced around your bud and your thighs clenched around his hand as you arched your back. You squeezed his arm and turned your face away as the fire spread through your body and ravaged your wits. You'd never felt this way and it was so new and so overwhelming that your voice erupted from you like a kettle boiling over.

The sudden snap inside of you had you writhing and whining. His fingers worked you fervently and the tendrils wrapped you up until you were breathless and broken, falling limp against the seat as you shook and he slowed his fingers in an agonizing descent.

He withdrew his hand, leaving a trail of your wetness along your thigh. Your skirts fell back to your feet and you hugged yourself as he moved his arm away from your body. You turned as he hummed and watched him dumbly as he sucked on his fingers. You gasped as he dropped his hand and smiled.

"Didn't that feel nice, sweeting?" He asked as he wiped his fingers on the tailnof his tunic and covered it again beneath his overcoat.

Your lashes fluttered and you hung your head. You didn't know what he'd just done but the rush of pleasure soured to a deluge of shame. The carriage smelled of your sweat and sin.

"My lord," you surrendered and he pulled you against him once more. His heart was steady but your own wouldn't stop hammering.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #hue and cry #series #fic #medieval #medieval!au #medieval au #au #marvel #mcu #captain america #winter soldier #dark fic #dark!fic

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

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Jim and Jody - Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary; it was one of the biggest decisions of your life, but will you change your mind before your future is sealed?

Warnings; angst, mentions of abortion (everyone is permitted to do what they want with their body, in this imagine the reader wants to keep the baby, but pro choice, as everyone deserves control over their bodies and all 🤍), brief mention of sex and threats

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To see him so relaxed, so completely and utterly himself was a paradise all on its own. There was a heaviness aboard your shoulders, but as you watched him goof tirelessly about, you had no other concerns, not even as you subconsciously raised your hand over your stomach. You shook your head at the sentiment, the two of you had already made the decision to abort this child, it was unknown how the poor fellow would turn out to be; with the combination of your powers and his super everything, it was sure to be quite the complication, and not one that you supposed was to be an easy course.

A smile pried at your face, simply from viewing him with the pack of children, the wind from the docks swept your hair into your face, and in turn, you swept the locks out and away from your vision, so that you had further access to watch the man that you loved in his absolute element. Through the years, past and recent, he had lost so much, and this child was just to be another mantle on the wall of memorial in his mind, it was sad really. If the two of you were normal, with average and lives that had perceptions with no regards of being heroic, there’d be no query about it, you’d keep the baby.

That life though, to your grave misfortune, did not exist, it was merely a fantasy living painfully inside of your mind, haunting you whenever you closed your eyes, with the flashing images of a resolution and end to the errors in your lifestyle. There’d be a big house, yet nothing to prissy, just enough room for the pair of you and few children of your own, a grand garden with a swing set and sand pit, where the infants could grow up and play in once they were older. Then there’d also be a shed for Bucky to work on small projects, such as attaining some love and care to his motor bike, as well as storing the supplies that he’d need to do so.

All that is a universe away, muffled from possibility by the stars expediting through the gorgeous veil of the galaxy, corrupting the possibilities of ever gaining access to such... peace. That was the one thing that the pair of you wanted, however catching a break was rather rare within your predicament. A stifled laugh reeled from the conjunction of your lips as you simply and endearingly surveyed how the boys, specifically Sam’s nephews hung from the vibranium branch of his arm. It was all your attention was focused on, until an extra person took a seat on the picnic table beside you, his sweet yet musky scent detailing whom it was. “If your not going to eat that, I’m sure Barnes Junior might want an opinion on that.”

The underlining of the words caused an abstract grimace to forlorn your features, as you stared not at the speaker of whom you were close with, but instead the slather of cake that was planted on a paper plate before you, the icing beginning to become slightly sick from the beating of the viable son. “You’re glowing, you know? Motherhood is a good look on you y/n/n, I wouldn’t be so soon to let that go.” Your fingers pried at the dismantled crumbs off your section of desert as you looked to your new captain, a resonating conformation fo bridled suffering and hopelessness clouding your view of his attempt at making you atone before you made a sin that you’d forever regret.

He, like many others, knew that the family life was what you wanted; you wanted to be your child’s hero, tending to their each necessary (and unnecessary) need, them being your main focus and project and life. Instead, you had been handed your options on a short stick, and thus, your decision, albeit somewhat of a sensible one, didn’t make it hurt any less. “Sam.” You spoke his name, observing from the corner of your eye how Bucky paraded around the dock with Jim and Jody. It’d be nice to give him a slice of this kinda life, he was thriving as an adult around children, you could only imagine him in the case of this one being birthed into the world. “It’s not that easy.”

“No one said it was going to be easy.” Sam responded quickly, affirming your fears to your nerve wrecked face. “I get it, I do. People will be after this kid, and that is no way to live, but you two aren’t alone in any of this, nor will you be in that. You have me, along with many other old friends of ours, hell even the Wakandan’s. Do you really want to sacrifice this one life so you can continue living this one? You and Bucky have both lost so much, you don’t have to force yourself to willingly give away something else. The decision can be changed the last minute, it’s a lot to take in, I get that, but I see the way Buck is with my nephews, and how you watch them when you think nobody’s looking over at you. With your state pardon, you two can retire, and go far away, and abandon everything for this one little guy or gal, because I know that if you do, no matter what, they’ll be worth it.”

Bucky wailed a warrior’s shout as Jim and Jody playfully struck him down, his unsheathed metal hand grasping at the cloth that was tightly aboard his addictive chest. He rolled on the ground as the children ran to retrieve their toy lightsabers, leaving him to be expendable against their weapons. There was a giddy and fitting smile smouldering his usual stoic expression. It was no wander why he found calm in visiting Sam and his sister’s small, and accepting family. The kids brought out another side of him, which he had been tortured to refrain from showing, but you had seen, and were contemplating many things within your mind. You were lapping up the image, as though you were dehydrated and the sight of him appeased by the company of young ones was a source of water.

Sam was right, he always was and had been. “The decision was on both of our parts, you don’t think Buck’ll change his mind, or do you?” You were invested in getting a responsive answer, yet the man spluttered a laugh at your confused expense. He heaved for a moment, bracing his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. There was nothing stopping him from gaining it back, unlike Bucky whom had grabbed a saber of his own and lightly began to paddle against the one that was directed against him, other than another round of hysterics that abandoned him. A reasonable smile resonated a comfortable position upon the former falcon’s face, as he tentatively patted your knee, watching as you broke off a small rupture of cake and popped it in your mouth, feeding not only yourself but the inmate within your womb.

“There isn’t really much for me to say, it’s easy, look at him. He will be fine with whatever decision that the pair of you succumb to, after all, it’s your body, but it will pain him like nothing else ever has if you go through with the abortion, and if not, then trust me, we’ve both seen how hard he fights; think of that but ten times the mass in consideration of this baby, because I am certain that he’d do anything for them. He lost his entire family when he awoke from his mode of hydra assassin, this could be him getting it back. Different members, but a family all the same.” He stole a little of your cake, making you lightly elbow him as a smirk rendered a beauty upon his face.

“What’s that going to make you, the patriotic uncle who just can’t keep himself from flashing his shield?” Now it was his turn to retaliate, he lightly scuffed your ankle with a feather light tap of the toe of his shoe, causing you to promiscuously roll your eyes. “I’m joking, that was Steve’s aesthetic, this new version of cap is your baby, I have great faith in you to make this world a better and safer place. The funny thing is, when you finally accepted that shield was yours, that’s when my mind shifted to the possibility of keeping this kid. It was and has always been a sign of hope and protection to Bucky, maybe it could be the same for our little one. It was just a thought, I’m not meaning to put pressure on your or anything bu-“

“I get it, and I’m honoured. And if that is how it seems, then I want you to know that I’ll be there to protect them too. The main bump in the road for now is for you to talk to that grumpy ass boyfriend of yours and figure this sperm plus egg equation out, send Jim and Jody over here, I got somethin’ to show those two anyway.” With a nod and a grateful pat upon your friend’s head, you slowly plodded over to where Bucky was being cornered against the side of the truck by the boys. His blue orbs danced around their small and imaginative beings, until they landed on you, it was as though his pupils were calling out for help, begging for you to spare some mercy upon him.

“Jim, Jody, your uncle Sammy has something for you two to see.” They groaned lightly, having been pulled away from the narrative of their play time, but nevertheless their faces were clean slates as they expressed hyper smiles, and bolted their route towards their mother’s sibling, carrying their lightsaber replicas along with them. “Two kids beat an infamous, deadly badass with a metal arm. I think you might be getting too old for these kinda battles Buck, you were losing, and quite terribly if I say so myself.” Crossing your arms, as he came to an upright stand, hoisting himself off the ground, so that he could be more level with you.

“Yeah, yeah, rub it in. Thought you were supposed to be supportive of me and all that, as you said to Zemo, you’d quite happily cut his dick off if he compared me to the shadow that I used to be.” His brow raised, as he reminisced on the thought of you threatening Zemo; it was hot, and certainly had gotten him going, which had shortly left you in this predicament, trying to save the world and execute the one last thing that exhumed hope to either one of you. The baby. It was almost a certain and solid fact that the little one inside of you had been procreated on the Baron’s private jet, more specifically, the small and clean bathroom that had became dirty with your primal sins.

“And I still regret not doing that, he’d have had much less leverage in any sense of the word of phallic if he had it sectioned off.” Silence emitted between the two of you, although a humoured smirk tantalised upon Bucky’s graceful face. For a change, he was not prompting the expression of a grumpy cat that was refused its nip, no, instead he could be compared to a future - actually, he already was a father to the bean held in the shield of your body, having been an ample ingredient in bringing the small person into being. “So, you having fun with Sarah’s kids, sure looks like you were quite in your element before I cut in.”

“I’m always in my element when you’re around doll.” He smiled, wrapping his uncoordinated hands around the oval of your waist, and tugging you sentimentally closer, your hips bumped with his, as your eyes ogled infatuatedly up at him. “They’re great kids, makes me realise exactly what we’re gonna be missing out on.” Bucky gulped, sparks of emotion taunted the behind of his eyes, like saucers of resentful fire. “You’d be the perfect mother, you know that right? After all you’ve done for me, you’ve nurtured me close to the man that I once was, the only difference is that I want to settle, but I don’t know how to go about dropping everything. This kid is killing me, he’s making me question everything.”

“That’s what kids are supposed to do, unborn, or very much avidly attacking grown men with false lightsabers.” Bucky deeply into your frustrated and corresponding eyes, your hands reaching up to play defiantly with the smooth dip in his chin that could be seen through the shading of his light stubble. “What if we did have a Jim and Jody of our own some day? We could keep him or her, they’d be our greatest concern, we don’t have to go down this painful and longing, rusted road. We could bring something good into this world, protect them against all forces that threaten to disrupt their life, I want this with you Bucky. We could move far far away, or go somewhere close to home.”

“Brooklyn.” He stated, causing a line to crease gently in the plain of his forehead. “I want to call them Brooklyn, if I am to fight the rest of my life for something, I want it to be my home. Last time I had to leave there, but it’s my amends to never leave this child of ours, if we’re going to do this, we need to put them in front of everything, and I mean everything.” He spoke, in reference to the other avengers and other aliases that you had stood by for so long. Bleakly you nodded, grasping his jaw down for an amorous kiss, humming against the palette of his lips, as your hands entwined behind his neck, pulling his face closer to your own, prompting his tongue to travel deeper within the realm of your mouth.

“Brooklyn is a nice name. How about Brooklyn Margaret Barnes? I think that has quite the ring to it.” You offered, and he hardly reacted, instead quickly appraising a pleasant smile onto the canvas of his work of art face, as he ducked his head down, conjoining the pair of you into a passionate and meaningful collide of your lips. Sam smiled as he watched the pair of you, pointing at you two from afar, as his nephews from afar. He was giving them a man to men talk, offering them advice that they would have valuable usage of in the future.

“Now that is love. You don’t give up for the one thing that connects you, and those two, well Bucky and y/n have been through a hell of a lot. They deserve this, and when you meet a woman when you’re older, and your mum is watching on towards the two of you, I want you to make her proud by treating your girl like a princess, willing to sacrifice everything simply to create the future that she wishes for you.” He emotionally wiped his eyes, rushing to stand before he grasped a lightsaber, leaving the other to spare for one of them. “Now Jim and Jody, which one of you will be my padawan?”

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stillebesat · 3 years

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Demon Comfort (3/3)

DECEMBER DRABBLES DAY 14 Sanders Sides: Logan, Virgil Blurb: Lurking under a Human’s bed should be downright dull for a Demon of Logan’s rank. And yet…he can’t help but be intrigued by his human charge. Fic Type: Demon!AU, Demon!Logan Overall Fic Warnings: Near Death Experiences, Freezing, Burning, Hazing Talk, Manipulation Taglist in reblog. To Catch Up: Part 1 Part 2

He’d been staring at the pages of the book Virgil had brought for him for hours now, not taking in a single word written there.

How could he when his charge was late.

Logan tsked, tail tapping a staccato against the bed frame as he flipped the book shut, turning his head to glare at the door, doing his best to ignore the twisting in his chest the--the worry that he was feeling.

Virgil could take care of himself. He knew that.

But after having to rescue his charge twice from life or death situations. It was...stressful, far more stressful than it should ever be, to wait for him to come back home from class. Especially since it was easily becoming clear that despite his craving for a fresh start, despite the fact that Logan had gone out and handily taken care of the six people responsible for nearly cooking his human in the boiler room, that Virgil still was not happy here.

Logan paused, tilting his head as he felt the first threads of the familiar thundercloud approaching. Finally. He relaxed when the bedroom door swung open, a black and purple backpack dropping to the floor a second later with a muted thud.

If it weren’t for the fact that he was trying to stick to the very last shreds of the rules of conduct between demon and human where he wouldn’t reveal himself unless Virgil called for him, Logan would have been out from under the bed in a flash demanding to know where in the world his charge had been and why he was only getting home now when Logan knew the boy had finished classes before lunch and had a mountain of unfinished final term papers to complete and--

Virgil dropped to his knees next to the bed, a purple blanket pooling at his feet. “Scoot over.” He said, not giving Logan a chance to react before shoving his way under the bed.

“Wha--WHY?!” He choked out in surprise. This wasn’t---Virgil had never indicated an interest in visiting him under here before.

Yet as soon as he caught sight of his tear streaked face, Logan found himself automatically lifting one wing and shifting his position to hold out an arm so he could slip underneath, a hot spike of anger rising in his chest. Virgil didn’t cry. He didn’t--What had happened to his dark and broody charge?

Virgil didn’t hesitate, ducking under both wing and arm to curl up into his chest, his soft hair tickling Logan’s chin as the boy choked back a sob, clinging to him. “Ju--just hold me for a minute, okay?” He whispered.

Logan lowered his wing, easily hiding him from view as he tightened his grip around him, holding Virgil close as he ran gentle claws through his hair. “Of course.” He said, careful to keep his voice from echoing.

He frowned up at the pitch black cloud that hung like an anvil over Virgil’s head, catching only glimpses of the past four hours of torture his charge had been through. Glimpses because Virgil’s thoughts were being slippery, his human not wanting him to know exactly what had gone wrong. Annoying that. He shouldn’t have admitted to being able to see and influence the boy’s thoughts. “You’re safe here.” He whispered, fighting the fury rising within him as Virgil broke down, hot tears dripping onto his chest.

“I-I know. I ju-just--” He shuddered. “I hate this place.”

Logan blinked. Huh? How was that--just this morning his charge had once again shrugged off the light meddling that he’d done to the tangle of thoughts over his head to try and convince him to leave! Yet Virgil had been firm in stating that he was fine here.

Obviously he wasn’t doing so fine if he hated being here.

Logan ran his claws through Virgil’s hair, observing those twisting thoughts with no intention of meddling at the moment.

No, he was seeking to understand why the sudden change of heart when nothing he had suggested had worked. “We both do. Why do you think I’ve been trying to convince you to leave?” The cold for one was getting tiresome. Spring should be bringing warmer temperatures and yet up here in the north it hardly felt like they’d come out of winter at all.

“I just--” The dark cloud over his head seemed to grow darker. “I just...wanted it to change you know? How can I be a thousand miles away from my old life, and yet everyone here still treats me like I’m the scum of the earth? I just--I just...wish someone here besides you would like me. You know? Where I could just--relax and not constantly be worrying if I’m secretly hated and they’re gonna try and--and--”

“Lock you in the janitor’s closet?” Logan asked, his chest rumbling with a suppressed growl as he finally found the thread leading to the event that Virgil had been trying to hide from him.

Even with him drastically reducing his meddling with Virgil’s thoughts, it seemed like his charge really couldn’t catch a break here. Especially if this--this freshman hazing kept up. Even if Virgil kept insisting that it was nothing and that his...peers’…antics should stay unreported to the police--not that that hadn’t stopped Logan from going off and enacting his own little revenge on the people that had threatened his human’s life--it would only be a matter of time before he would need to guard his charge twenty-four seven to keep him safe. To keep him alive.

That was no way for a human to live. A demon’s guardianship was hardly a good guardianship after all.

Virgil gave a bitter laugh, thoughts swirling, giving Logan glimpses of the faces of the new people torturing his charge.

It was a bittersweet realization that. Sure he was proud his ability to terrorize others hadn’t been dulled with this...softening towards this one particular human, but if getting rid of the one batch of rotten eggs only encouraged another group to take up the calling to make Virgil’s life miserable---

“They took my backpack this time.” He whispered, resting his head against Logan’s chest. “I had to MacGyver a way to melt the hinges off the door with chemicals from the closet before I could escape. Then it took me another hour to track down where they’d thrown my bag--at least I found it.”

Was that supposed to be reassuring? That this time, he’d managed to get free by himself? If it was...it didn’t make Logan feel any better. Not when it left his charge in tears.

Not when it left him wondering what would have happened if Virgil hadn’t managed to MacGyver-whatever that meant- his way out of his predicament. Just how long would it have been before Logan would have realized he wasn’t coming back? That he needed help? It just--that ache that--that worry in his chest only grew stronger at the thought.

Honestly, he didn’t understand most human devices, but if he needed to obtain a freaking cell phone and enchant it so that Virgil would always be able to contact him he would. The hassle would be worth it if it meant his charge would remain safe. That at the first sign of trouble Virgil could call for help and immediately receive it.

Better than leaving him wondering if Logan would find him in time. If he’d--- He exhaled. “I know it won’t mean much coming from me.” He whispered, committing to memory the faces of the people he needed to go take care of next, all too aware of how much he, himself, had contributed to his charge’s woes while here. “But you don’t deserve this.”

Virgil let out a shaky breath, the dark cloud swirling over his head shifting to a lighter grey as he looked up meeting Logan’s slitted eyes. “I want to make a deal.”

He blinked, ignoring how his hearts leapt at the words every demon craved to hear at the unexpected phrase. “No you don’t.”

Virgil set his jaw, eyes unwavering. “I do.”

Logan frowned, fighting the desire to break eye contact to see what the twisting threads of thought were leading to. To find out why Virgil was requesting this now. No, it was best to hear it straight from the human himself.

He let out a slow breath. Knowing his charge, his reasoning would be convoluted and yet still make perfect sense. “I’m willing to hear you out, but I do not agree to agree to anything beyond that. You’ve already dealt with enough trouble in your life without adding a demonic deal to it.”

Virgil gave a wobbly smirk, hardly fazed as he tapped Logan’s chest with a single finger. “Your side.” He said. “You want me to move elsewhere. Want me to go to a different school. Someplace warmer. Safer.”

Logan gave a slow nod. “Yes?” Though wasn’t this deal supposed to be about what the human wanted to get instead of the demon?

“Then I’ll agree to moving. Even let you pick the school and the place I’ll stay at IF.” He stressed the word again tapping Logan’s chest. “You agree to three things first.”

Three things in exchange for one of safety? Typical human. He narrowed his eyes, tail tapping against the floorboards. “And those are?”

“One. You stop hiding under my bed like an overgrown dust bunny. Two. You become my roommate and go to the school you’ve chosen with me--don’t give me that look.”

Logan growled, tail dancing back and forth against the wall. He would give out all the looks he wanted thank you very much. Because that was---okay being out from under the bed would be wonderful but be a roommate?! “I can’t replace your need for human interaction and companionship, Virgil.”

Sure, it did make a nice loophole that his superiors couldn’t argue against because the human had requested his near-constant presence in this deal. But it couldn’t work. Demons and Humans weren’t meant to be roommates. It was hardly a healthy relationship when Logan had the ability to manipulate Virgil’s thoughts! Plus! Figuring out an adequate human disguise to uphold all hours of the day in order to go to school would be a nightmare and a half with the rituals and the charm work involved to hide his demonic looks.

“Three.” Virgil continued, ignoring Logan’s outburst, the cloud above his head shifting closer to white as he grew more fond of how this deal was turning out. “You pick out our other roommate or roommates. Ones who know you are a demon so you won’t have to disguise yourself when you’re home.”

That was---huh. So he’d only have to look human while in public? Logan tsked, claws carefully brushing Virgil’s tear streaked cheeks, his wings quivering with the urge to agree to this--this foolhardiness as his mind raced to find any downsides for his end of this deal. For any loopholes to exploit despite him not wanting to do anything of the sort to Virgil. Not when his charge was finally finally willing to move away from this awful place.

Except there was one problem. The humans.

“Most humans who willingly interact with demons are not the sort of individuals I would trust to room with you.” He said, shaking his head. His goal was to keep Virgil safe. Not set him up for further attempts on his life.

Virgil raised an eyebrow, eyes glinting. “I specifically said those who know you are a demon, Lo. That doesn’t have to mean they’ve interacted with others.”

Clever. “But I don’t interact with other humans!” If he hadn’t broken the rules, Virgil would never be having this conversation with him in the first place because he wouldn’t know Logan existed. “Demons don’t interact with humans unless they are summoned. How am I--!”

“I never summoned you though. And yet here we are.”

Logan had to look away at that. Avoid staring at the positively smug face his charge was giving him. “That’s different.” He finally muttered. Most demons didn’t care what happened to the humans they dealt with. Logan was an outlier in that sense. Sent to lurk under a bed as punishment and instead found that he liked it even if Virgil’s stubborn nature drove him up the wall most of the time.

“Different because you were hiding under my bed for who knows how long?”

He grimaced. It hadn’t even been a year yet. Not that long at all in human terms. “In a way.”

He flinched as Virgil placed a palm against his cheek, turning his head back to face him. “You were the monster under my bed until you decided I needed a Guardian instead.” He said softly. “Why can’t you go find another human whose needs are similar to mine? Find someone we both can get along with. And once you do, I’ll move wherever you want me to for school. Those are my terms.”

Logan hardly cared if another human liked him. He was a demon. Humans were supposed to fear his kind. But Virgil? His human needed a good roommate. One that would want to be around him, unlike Virgil’s current set that barely acknowledged his existence unless it was his turn to take out the trash. However, if he was out hunting for this good roommate…that would mean--

“I can hardly be considered a Guardian if you’re left defenseless while I’m off searching who knows where for who knows how long for this hypothetical person!” Logan retorted. “You would have to allow me to establish a means to ensure you’re safe while I am gone or that you could summon me if you find yourself in danger before I would even consider--”

“What sort of thing?”

Logan frowned. Was the stress of three near death attempts addling his charge’s mind? Perhaps the air underneath the bed was’t flowing properly--he shifted, teleporting them both onto Virgil’s bed where he could have this conversation in a more proper format. After all, humans didn’t usually make deals under their beds. Though it probably was too much to expect his charge to draw a sigil on the floor. Not if he wanted his deposit back.

He kept a wing securely around Virgil as the human adjusted his position to rest more comfortably against him, a move that should be more counter-intuitive despite Logan’s proclamations of keeping him safe. There was too much trust here. Virgil had hardly done more than sharply inhale at them suddenly appearing on top of his bed.

“So?” He asked once he was comfortable, fingers brushing against the inside of Logan’s wing. “What sort of thing were you thinking?”

Logan shrugged a shoulder, trying to not focus on how relaxed Virgil was with him. “...I was considering a cell phone.”

The laugh his charge let out shouldn’t make his hearts flutter so.

Virgil grinned, shaking his head, the storm cloud above him glittering brightly despite it’s shifting state. “That’s so...human, Lo. But what if it dies? What if I get mine taken away? They’re hardly reliable despite how much I use mine. Isn’t there a sort of…” He waved a hand around. “Sigil or spell or mark? Something that you can place on me?”

Yes. But--

Before he could speak his charge ducked out from under his wing, grabbing at his backpack on the floor and digging into it. “I could draw something on me.” He offered, pulling out a pen. “And then you enchant it or whatever to--are you okay?”

That was---ha. Logan swallowed, wings shifting back as he looked his human in the eyes. “That is...it’s not a light commitment to make, Virgil.” He finally answered. “You shouldn’t allow any demon, let alone me--” Despite how much he desperately wanted it. It would be so much easier to ensure he could protect Virgil than using a cell phone. “--to mark you so. I doubt you want a permanent connection to me and a sigil once placed on living flesh cannot easily be removed.”

Virgil tapped his pen against his lips, tilting his head as he silently studied Logan.

His tail twisted at the scrutiny. “It’s too much of a risk.” He repeated, holding his hands palm up. “You have no guarantee that I will remain a...Guardian to you.” Though at this point he couldn’t see him being anything else. “I am a Demon. It’s not in our nature to--”

He cut off as Virgil reached out, resting his hands in Logan’s clawed ones, gently squeezing them. “Lo.”

His hearts skipped a beat at the nickname. Gah. If Virgil ever figured out how being called Lo truly affected him, far more than any deal would, he would be completely done for--he flinched, inhaling sharply as a purplish glow appeared, covering both of their hands as his charge gave a small smirk.

“You’ve saved my life twice now.” He said softly, leaning forward, unfazed by the glow.

Though of course Virgil would have no idea that this wasn’t normal, not when Logan hadn’t done anything!

“That’s hardly a demon’s nature now is it? To save someone? Someone who made no deal to gain such protection?”

….No. It wasn’t normal. He knew that. He-- Logan made a sound in his throat as the purplish glow shifted between them winding like a ribbon around their wrists. He eyed it warily, it was a sign, despite the fact that the glowing ribbon should be red instead of purple, that a deal was being struck though Logan had made no active attempt to initiate one. Hadn’t wanted--

“You’re no ordinary demon, Lo.”

No...he wasn’t much like the others was he? Interacting with humans...a human...with Virgil willingly without being compelled to. To want to protect his charge, seeking to help him instead of...well...continuing to make him suffer.

“If you don’t want the mark on me to be permanent then make it temporary.” Virgil said, maintaining eye contact. “Make it last as long as you need it to. But I know you know you want to know I’m okay. Is this not a good way to go about it?”

His breath caught in his throat. There was too much trust in him here. Far too much. Virgil didn’t know what he was getting into. He couldn’t--it wasn’t safe. “I don’t--” Logan swallowed, fingers trembling in Virgil’s hands as the ribbon pulsed around them. “A demonic deal is never safe.” He couldn’t risk his charge like this. Something would go wrong. It wasn’t worth it. “I don’t want to make this type of deal. Any deal with you.” He whispered, wings fluttering with heat as he broke eye contact, bowing his head to his charge.

“Lo?” Virgil adjusted his grip, squeezing his hands.

He shuddered, eyes burning despite his inability to shed tears, his hearts pounding like the drums of war as he clung to those hands, careful always careful so that his claws wouldn’t pierce his delicate flesh, wouldn’t draw blood to seal whatever deal this purple ribbon was trying to instigate. He couldn’t hurt him.

“It’s not proper.” He said softly. “A demon shouldn’t care about this. A demon would just say yes. But I can’t. Because I do. I care. I just want you safe, Virgil. Protected. Happy. A deal won’t-- I can’t---a demon can’t--”

“Perhaps.” Virgil tilted his head, peering up into Logan’s slitted eyes. “You should stop thinking of yourself as a demon then.”

He blinked, wings drawing back as the purple ribbon pulsed. “What?” But that--that’s what he was. Sure, he wasn’t acting like one currently, but no one would look at him and think he was anything else.

“Well...you’ve already said it yourself, haven’t you? Starting back when I nearly froze to death. What you really are.”

He’d said a lot of--Wait. Logan looked up, barely able to breathe from how tight his chest felt. “You...remember that time?”

Virgil shook his head. “Not all of it. But I do remember one thing, Lo.” He grinned, eyes glittering as the purple ribbon flashed a brilliant indigo, the bright warm light washing over Logan before he could blink.

“You’re a Guardian. My Guardian.” End.

#Demon Comfort #December Drabbles #stillebesat #Sanders Sides #Logan #Virgil #Logic #Anxiety #Demon!Logan #Near Death experience tw #Hazing tw #Manipulation tw #December Day 14

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queen-scribbles · 3 years

Text

The Long Burning Torch ch 3

Oh, look, another chapter for the 20s AU I started for the @shepherds-of-haven Summer Event, which has taken on a life of its own. In this chapter: A couple new (but familiar!) faces, and the plot thickens.

----

Five minutes into Ashtown proper, Xaeryn was exceedingly grateful for the directions Mr. Syndran had provided. He hadn’t been wrong comparing the place to a warren.

“You look lost, doll.”

Her head snapped up from the paper in her hand to meet the gaze of a lanky man lounging against a wall, a soft cap slouched down over his forehead. His--very familiar--green eyes were much more vivid in person than they had been in her scry.

Xaeryn arched a brow coolly. “And what led you to that conclusion?”

He smirked and pushed away from the wall. “The way you keep checking that paper for one, Sunshine.” His hands slid in his pockets. “Also, we don’t get dames that look like you here all that often. Anything I can help you find?”

“You’re awfully helpful,” Xaeryn said, resisting the urge to run a hand down her outfit.

He doffed his cap and sketched an exaggerated bow, giving her a wink when he righted. “Consider me the Ashtown welcoming committee.”

“And what a charming first impression you make.” Xaeryn regarded him for a moment or two more, then decided to see how things would play out. “I’m trying to find Chase Trinaeste.”

The man’s eyes twinkled, bright as the scarf tossed ‘round his neck. “I think I can help with that. Right this was, Sunshine,” he said blithely, as if he wasn’t the aforementioned Trinaeste himself.

A large part of Mr. Syndran’s adamant belief Thieves guild had been involved in the theft rode on Trinaeste’s presence in her scryed vision. “He trusts his lieutenants with the vast majority of their... jobs,” Mr. Syndran had explained, nose wrinkling slightly in distaste. “His being there shows it was a heist of high importance to their gang, fitting the theft of an artefact.”

Xaeryn had no reason to doubt his logic. But she’d be a fool to show all the cards she held at the outset.

“My name is not ‘sunshine’,” she said briskly instead.

“Well, then, doll, what am I calling ya?” Trinaeste asked, unruffled by her tone.

“Miss Shrike will do for now, I think. And what do I call you?”

“Who says you need to call me anything?” he returned as he led her down several new streets in quick succession.

“It might come in handy if I want to commend your hospitality to Mr. Trinaeste,” she countered, trying her best to memorize their route. Left, left, right...

“I’ll get by, Miss Shrike,” Trinaeste said with a light laugh.

He was very good at dodging, she did have to give him that. “For politeness’ sake, then. Perhaps I’d feel better about following you into the depths of Ashtown if I at least knew your name.”

He laughed again, pausing by a wall decorated with a... creative interpretation of a cat’s head. “Well, then. I have a confession to make, in that case.”

“Oh?” Xaeryn marked the two brunos nearby--one down an alley, the other lounging by a door--despite their affected nonchalance. “And what would that be?”

“Chase Trinaeste at your service.” He skipped the exaggerated bow this time, instead shoving his hands in his pockets, elbows akimbo, and grinning at her cheekily. “Now that you’ve found me, what do you plan to do with me?”

“First thing that comes to mind is ask why we couldn’t have the introductions back where we first spoke?”

“Let’s say I feel safer on home turf, doll. Just in case your reason for wanting me is less fun than I’m hoping.”

She glanced significantly at one of the toughs. “And if this arrangement doesn’t thrill me?”

“You can leave,” Trinaeste said with a shrug. “We ain’t going to stop you.” His grin widened, cat-like. “But you seem the type who doesn’t like leaving empty-handed, Miss Shrike.” He gestured toward the door next to one member of their small audience. “Whatever it is you’re after, I think we’ll be more comfortable in my office, don’t you?”

She doubted he cared between the two locations as strongly as she doubted it was an actual office, but Xaeryn did have to admit some privacy for this conversation would be a good thing. “Do I strike you as the type to just follow strange men into unfamiliar buildings, Mr. Trinaeste?”

He laughed. “A dangerous question, doll. You strike strike me as the type who enjoys a good mystery.”

(Or even a bad one, Xaeryn finished wryly to herself.)

Trinaeste raised his hands in a gesture of innocence. “On my honor as head of the guild, I promise you will leave in the same condition and carrying the same things as when you got here, so long as you don’t threaten me or mine.”

“A fair deal,” she said in assent, and nodded toward the door. “After you.”

Red would have a heart attack if he knew what she was doing. She swallowed a laugh at the thought; less than a week reconnected and his reaction was one of the first things to cross her mind. Her gut said it would be a worthwhile risk. While Trinaeste was indisputably a dangerous man, there was a clear sense of ‘only when necessary’ to his skill that gave her confidence she would be fine.

“One more condition,” Trinaeste said as he led the way into the building. “Call me Chase. No idea who ‘Mr. Trinaeste’ is, but he sounds too high-class to be me.”

He’d kowtowed to her chosen address easily enough, and she did want him amenable to talking. She could grin and bear the informality for one conversation. “Very well.”

They didn’t go far from the outer door before Chase swung to the side through another doorway. Xaeryn almost tripped over the abruptness as she followed. There was no desk, or any other typical office furniture save chairs. There were five of those; loosely grouped on one side of the room. Opposite them a stack of shipping crates were shoved against a tapestry-hung wall. It was eclectic and flamboyant and (she’d just bet) full of secrets. A perfect match for the man now flopped in one of the fairly-comfortable looking chairs and grinning at her again.

“So, Miss Shrike, what did you want from me?”

(From the way his eyes twinkled, that phrasing was very much on purpose.)

Xaeryn chose her seat and her reply with equal care; the former so she could see both her host and the door, the latter to convey intent without accusing. Yet. “I’m investigating a theft and have reason to believe you may have seen something helpful.”

Chase laughed. “You think I did it.”

“You do helm the Thieves guild, Chase,” she said lightly, crossing her legs and flicking dust off her hem. So much for trying to be subtle.

“Fair point,” he conceded with another laugh, before leaning forward to brace his elbows on his knees and his chin on his palms with still-twinkling eyes. “So, what is it you think we stole?”

“An artefact.”

She was interrupted before giving a description as Chase’s grin went cat-like gain and the twinkle in his eyes shifted to a hard glitter. “Syndran set you on us, didn’t he? What did he lose?”

“Mr. Syndran didn’t lose anything. Transit is a possibility for when a piece was stolen,” Xaeryn said primly. “And while, yes, he may have pointed me in your direction as an avenue of investigation, I wouldn’t be much of a detective if I followed accusations that lacked supporting evidence.”

“Ah, you’re a private dick,” Chase smirked, eyes once again twinkling in amusement. “Tell you what, Miss Shrike, since you bein’ here is bountiful evidence Riel’s people not only dropped the ball, but bad enough he doesn’t want to involve the cops, I’ll tell you whatever you need to help. That being the best news I’ve had this week and all.”

She arched a brow. “Whatever I need?”

He spread his hands. “I’m an open book, doll.”

“Chase!” a new voice scolded. The owner, a slender brunette, paused in the doorway to scowl along with her critique. “You know better than to offer open season on guild secrets like that!”

“Calm down, Ari.” Chase slouched back, waving one hand in Xaeryn’s direction. “Our guest seems a smart enough dame to not ask for more than she needs.” That glimpse of danger was back under the last word.

“I’m not after your secrets,” Xaeryn promised. “Just trying to find a missing artefact.”

“And what artefact would that be?” Ari asked, still wary, and still poised in the doorway. Xaeryn noted but didn’t comment on the jangling stack of bracelets that sheathed a good three inches of the other woman’s wrist.

“A pendent, this big.” she indicated the size. “Black stone and bronze.”

“Wasn’t us,” Chase said easily.

“You were witnessed along the transport caravan’ route.”

“Oh, we were casing it,” he acknowledged with a wink.

“Chase!”

He just grinned at Ari’s beratement. “We didn’t steal anything, though. Couldn’t get a good shot at what we were supposed to nick.”

“Supposed to?” Xaeryn interjected. “So this is something you were contracted to steal rather than...” She waffled a moment over word choice, “...personal?”

“Yeah. Like I said, though, we didn’t get anything.” Chase shrugged. “Just as well; our butter and egg man never showed his face after.”

“Hm.” Xaeryn made a mental note to look into how popular a target the caravan had become. “Did you notice anyone else who seemed to be casing it? Aside from your people?”

“N-” Chase’s brow furrowed and he stopped mid-negative reply. “There was that one mug Kato saw right before the trucks made the museum lot. Don’t have anything more than ‘foreign-looking’ and green hair, and he didn’t see where he went, just was a little too casual in his loitering, gave Kato an odd impression.”

It wasn’t a lead solid enough for her to really follow, but it did seem confirmation multiple parties were interested in the caravan. “I see. And what was your... client after?”

“That’s not something you need to know,” Ari said firmly.

“Knowing what else was and might yet be targeted will help my investigation, so I would have to disagree,” Xaeryn said just as firmly. “I’m not going to rat you out, in fact I plan to tell Mr. Syndran you were not responsible. But this information could be useful. Please.”

“A necklace. Gold, rubies, opals; sounded worth a pretty lyss,” Chase said, turning to flash a grin at Ari. “She did say please.”

Ari sighed but didn’t protest.

“Alright I’ll be getting out of your hair, then.” Xaeryn stood, smoothing her skirt. “I appreciate your talking to me, It was enlightening.”

She held out a hand to shake, and Chase kissed the back of it instead, shooting her a wink as she rolled her eyes. “Not a problem, Miss Shrike. Good luck catching your bad guys.”

Xaeryn couldn’t help a small chuckle at the comment as she withdrew her hand and headed for the door. She half-expected to be blocked from exiting, but that proved unfounded. She retraced the route to the edge of the Ashtown district, then headed for her office to call Mr. Syndran just as it started to rain.

---

Her call to update Mr. Syndran went about as well as it could; he was disappointed Thieves guild hadn’t panned out as a lead--Xaeryn detected some personal disappointment as well as professional they weren’t responsible. “Do you have anything beyond their word they didn’t do it?”

“No,” Xaeryn said, leaning forward over her desk to skim her notes as they talked. “Well... their word and a gut feeling they were being level.” Which is all I really have that you aren’t responsible. She was polite--and wise--enough to not make the comparison. “They were hardly going to let me search their warehouse.”

“So what’s your next step? There’s not long until the exhibit opens, and I dislike the number of dead ends you’ve encountered.”

“Oh, I’m not happy about them, either, believe me.” Xaeryn pursed her lips and fought to keep a sharp note out of her voice at his implied censure. “Next is talking to the curator at the Hall. They may have seen this green-haired foreigner Thieves guild mentioned, or something else suspicious that didn’t show when I scryed. Either way, I can get more information about the exhibit and the pendent’s owner.”

Mr. Syndran sighed. “I highly doubt this convenient and vague ‘foreigner’ exists as anything other than a red herring to lead you away from the Thieves guild, but your other goals are sound. Let me know what you learn, if anything.”

“Of course.” They exchanged farewells and hung up. Rain still pattered against the window, and a quiet growl from her stomach reminded Xaeryn she was overdue for lunch, so she bumped back calling the Hall in favor of a quick bite to eat.

And it was quick; she loved mysteries but hated being stymied at every turn like this case had done. She wanted a workable lead. While she agreed with Mr. Syndran the ‘foreigner’ was too vague to pursue on his own, green hair was far from common in Haven, even in the Mage community. If someone else made mention or he was spotted later, it wouldn’t be hard to connect the sightings. For now, she’d call the museum, speak to the curator. Hopefully that would get her somewhere.

The secretary who answered her call sounded both bored and frazzled, which Xaeryn found impressive. “Haven Hall of History and Culture, how may I help you?”

“My name’s Xaeryn Shrike, I wanted to speak to the curator about-”

“Ms. Acquell is very busy,” the receptionist cut her off. “We have an exhibit opening in just over a week, she doesn’t have time for meetings with random curiosity seekers or history aficionados right now.”

Xaeryn let a bit of edge color her voice. “I’m a private detective Mr. Syndran hired in regard to the artefact caravan.”

A long pause, the line crackling with silence, then, “Can you be here in half an hour? I’m sure she can clear some space in her schedule, though there may be bit of a wait.”

I thought you might say that. “I can. Thank you.”

“Very well.” The secretary hung up.

Xaeryn arched a brow at the receiver before she placed it back in the cradle. “See you shortly,” she muttered. Wonderful attitude for someone in such a socially involved position. She glanced out the window and was gratified to find the rain slacking off. She’d still drive, of course, but it would be less of a headache.

Xaeryn cleaned up from her lunch, gave her outfit a quick check to ensure it was still presentable after her visit to Ashtown and the Merchants Guild garage, and tucked her notepad back in her handbag before tugging on a hat and heading out the door.

The drive to the museum was uneventful aside from a couple pot holes and a pedestrian chasing his umbrella into the street with nary a regard for traffic. Still, Xaeryn did arrive in one piece. A determined breeze tugged at her as she made her way up the steps, and she almost dropped her handbag in her instinctive grab to hold her hat on.

It’s pinned, you silly goose, she chided herself ruefully, and brushed drizzle off her clothes as she stepped inside. She exchanged a brief conversation--light on pleasantries--with the receptionist,and was waved toward one of the long cultural wings to wait for when Curator Acquell found a moment to speak with her. She perched on a bench that sat between a statue of the first High Augar and a glass case displaying a map of the known world at the time. At this hour and with this weather, there weren’t many other people, and the gallery was mostly quiet.

Ample opportunity for Xaeryn to ruminate on the irony her chosen seat appeared to be smack in the middle of an exhibit on the Castigation, or one of the uprisings that followed. At least, if the painting across from her was anything to go by; a group of determined Norms gripping pistols as they surrounded a cluster of bloodied but unyielding Hunters whose hands glowed with grace as they clung to their weapons...

Xaeryn shook her head and very deliberately focused on reading her notes.

---

It took half an hour--closer to three-quarters--and Xaeryn had switched to roaming the gallery to take in the sights before a short, bespectacled blonde approached.

She hesitated briefly but noticeably before clearing her throat. “Are you... Miss Shrike?”

Xaeryn nodded and held out a hand to shake. “And you would be the curator?”

The blonde bobbed her head as she shook her hand. “Shery Acquell. I’m so very sorry about the wait.” She smoothed a hand down her rumpled brown and pink dress. “We’re terribly busy trying to get the new exhibit together.” She bit her lip. “Or, as together as we can get it, at least.”

“That’s actually what I’m here to talk to you about,” Xaeryn said. “But I think it’s something better discussed away from potential prying eyes and ears.”

“Oh, right, of course.” Miss Acquell briefly clasped her hands in front of her and bit her lip. “This way.” She gestured to a door. “We can speak in the Cultures of Blest wing if you don’t mind dodging crates and museum staff?”

“Not at all,” Xaeryn said as she followed the other woman through the indicated door. Getting to see behind the scenes of a museum exhibit was the opposite of an inconvenience, to her mind.

“It’s not terribly exciting, I’m afraid; lots of boxes and dust and swapping things around until you find the right arrangement. But I think we can find somewhere to talk. My office is a mess right now, or we could just go there.”

“It’s fine,” Xaeryn assured her. “A little dust won’t kill me. I dress practical for that very reason; no telling where an investigation will take me.”

“OH, that’s... smart.” Miss Acquell fiddled with her glasses and inclined her head toward an empty display pedestal. “That’s where the pendent will go, assuming it’s back before the exhibit opens.” Her face went red and she winced apologetically. “N-Not that I doubt your skill as a detective, Miss Shrike, it just seems to have vanished into thin air, and, well....” She half shrugged and let the words trail off.

“I’ve definitely hit enough dead ends for the comparison to be apt,” Xaeryn said, swallowing the spike of defensiveness to keep her tone level as she peeked at the other artefacts in the case. A belt with a snake-head buckle, a silver circlet set with a single moonstone, an ornately carved hair comb, a silver ring that resembled a basilisk eating its own tail. At least one item hummed quietly with magic of some kind, but enchantment and binding weren’t her forte, so Xaeryn couldn’t tell which. “So, to confirm, how long did the shipment sit before you and your staff started opening crates?”

“Oh, an hour?” Miss Acquell bit her lip. “Maybe two, at most? There was a... small kerfuffle in the art wing; some unruly children, and we didn’t get to the crates until that was settled. But there was a watchman outside and one in the museum, neither of them reported seeing anyone.” She played with her necklace. “As well as a Whitestone Couriers representative. Pink-haired young lady, very irate by the time I spoke to her, though that is understandable, with how long we kept her waiting.”

“Did you not have enough staff for someone to take care of the artefacts while others handled the... disturbance?”

“Normally we would have.” Miss Acquell stepped into a small alcove to move their conversation out of the way for the six or so staffers busily yet carefully removing things from crates to arrange in various displays. “But it was a lightly staffed day--Thursdays are usually slow--and I had a couple people who didn’t come in. We weren’t able to find anyone who could cover their shifts, so we were running a bit short.”

With Ms. Aerin keeping an eye on the artefacts once they reached the museum, it was no wonder Mr. Syndran was so convinced a potential theft would have occurred during transit. “What do you know about the pendent, Solimer’s torch? I’ve learn some things of its history, but what of more recent years? The last century or so?”

“A little,” Miss Acquell said, flicking a nervous glance to the side as a pair of workers fumbled the statue they were shifting. “The last century is a bit... muddy for that pendent. It’s changed hands several times, several people have made claims, few have been able to back them up. The current owner, Ms. Aescar, has the strongest claim. She can trace ancestry to the last known owner of the pendent.”

“Prior to the cheiftain of debated identity with whom it was rediscovered?”

She nodded. “Yes. The others who have tried to stake ownership claim ties to the debated chieftain, or the original tribe, or the first to conquer them, but none have ever clearly proven a connection like Ms. Aescar. And if they could, it turns into a debate predicated largely on the intricacies of right of conquest for who has the strongest claim.” She hesitated, wrung her hands. “There are some in the historical community--niche as this piece may be--who... feel it would almost be better if no further claims are validated. I-If someone can contest Ms. Aescar’s ownership, the pendent has to go in a vault until true provenance can be determined. Which means no one can display it....”

“And that process can take a very long time,” Xaeryn finished for her. It was an issue she’d run into a couple times during her years at Solhadur; an artefact she was researching was hard to get clear information about because three people had equally strong claims and it was tied up in the arbitration.

“Yes, it can.” Miss Acquell pursed her lips and looked back at the intended display. “For now, though, Ms. Aescar has a very open policy for lending it out. Far fewer requested protective measures than most. It’s as if...” she paused, brow furrowing for a moment, “as if she doesn’t really care what happens to it.”

Interesting. “Do you have her contact information? I’d like to speak with her if I could,”

“I do.” Miss Acquell nodded vigorously. “It’s in my office, so I’ll need a minute to dig it out.”

“No hurry,” Xaeryn said. “Are those watchmen here today by any chance? Accommodating as your staff has been with my other earlier inquiries, I haven’t gotten to talk to them yet.”

The curator, who had started for a nearby hall, paused and bit her lip again as she thought. “Theo is,” she finally said. “He was watching the outside lot that day. Today I think he’s in the exhibit on Norm innovation? But I can’t remember for sure. The schedule’s also in my office, I can check while I’m getting Ms. Aescar’s information.”

“Alright, I can wait.”

“Feel free to look around.” Miss Acquell waved a hand toward the progressing displays. “Just don’t touch anything? Some things would survive, but others are too fragile.”

“I generally avoid disturbing museum exhibits,” Xaeryn assured her. “I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

With a final nod and small nervous smile, Miss Acquell scurried off down the hall. From the way she’d talked about her office, Xaeryn gathered this might take more than a few minutes. She wandered through the half-assembled exhibits and display cases, careful to keep enough distance she didn’t disturb the staff or risk damaging anything.

A small smile curved her lips when she caught sight of a necklace--complete with matching cuff bracelets and a diadem--that fit the description of what Chase claimed his guild had been hired to steal. That backed his story up, at least. There was a placard declaring they had belonged to a Queen-Consort from Karzai once upon a time.

Xaeryn was engrossed in reading a Kettish tablet when Miss Acquell returned, and it took a moment to register her presence. In fact, it wasn’t until the curator cleared her throat timidly that Xaeryn’s focus was broken and she swung around.

“Sorry. This sort of thing is a passion of mine,” she explained. “Very easy to slip off to my own little world when I get a chance to indulge.”

“I understand,” Miss Acquell said with a faint smile. “I can be the same, when I get lost in my work. Here’s Ms. Aescar’s information” --she held out a small piece of note paper--”though I should warn you it’s for her estate out near the Jalis desert and she’s apparently not home much? Bit of an adventuress, away for weeks at a time without word of how long she’ll be gone. I’m honestly not sure if we’ve managed to contact her yet to tell her the pendent’s missing.”

“Thanks for the warning, both of them.” Xaeryn slipped the paper in her handbag after checking the legibility. “I’ll keep them in mind.”

“Theo is up in the innovations exhibit, if you want to speak with him.”

“Oh, I very much do. And if something comes up and I need to talk to you again, do you have daily office hours?”

Miss Acquell nodded, then blushed. “Oh, except... except Sunday,” she amended. “I-I have church.”

“Won’t be a problem, so do I.” Normally not a detail Xaeryn shared with strangers, but the woman seemed braced for blowback to the statement.

Her face lit up with the revelation, so it was apparently a good call. “Oh, really? Where do you go?”

“The Whitestone Cathedral,” Xaeryn said. She liked the crowds, the ability to simply sit in the back, worship, and slip out before too many people even noticed she was there and tried to be chummy.

“Oh, that one’s too big for me,” Miss Acquell blurted with a bashful laugh. “I go to the chapel over by the docks.”

“I know it,” Xaeryn said with a nod. She’d had a couple cases over that way. “Thank you very much for all your help, Miss Acquell. This visit has been very informative.”

“I’m glad to have been of help, and you can just call me Shery.” She held out a hand to shake farewell.

“Goodbye, then, Shery. And good luck setting up your exhibit.” Xaeryn shook her hand then headed off following signage toward the exhibit where this guard Theo was posted. She had some rather burning questions to ask him.

---

Her conversation with Theo held mixed success. His memory was fuzzy, which Xaeryn had expected after the time that had passed. He did remember some loiterers, but they were all far enough away from the lot he couldn’t discern features. One or two may have come across as “too casual” with hindsight, but he hadn’t clocked them as suspicious and thus hadn’t paid much mind in the moment. No accounting for street hooligans and how they spent their time, right? One might have had green hair, but they were wearing hats, and “like I said, I wasn’t payin’ much heed, Miss Lady Detective,” so he couldn’t swear by it.

With that tenuous connection possibly made slightly less tenuous, and a much-increased desire to speak with the elusive Ms. Aescar, Xaeryn wandered the museum a bit--might as well; she was here and it would help her think--before heading back out to her car.

“Ladies first,” a dark haired gentleman said, holding the front door open for her and allowing her to precede him down the steps.

Xaeryn nodded and flashed a brief smile of courteous thanks for his chivalry, noting he headed for a gleaming, high-end motorcar, black with red accents, that made hers look dingy. Bet it’s a nightmare to keep that fancy, she thought, paying the man no further mind. She started her car and flicked on the headlights to counter the settling dim of evening as she pulled away.

With her thoughts split between the road and mulling over the case, it took a few turns for her to notice a pair of headlights that appeared to be following the same route she was. That wasn’t terribly unusual, but the fact they were deliberately keeping back was. Tricky as surreptitious glances in a motorcar could be, Xaeryn managed one the next time she had to stop for traffic. Just as her... friend passed under a streetlight.

Black car, with red accents.

Gooseflesh prickled up her arms, and she shifted her planned route home to one with sparse enough traffic covert pursuit would be impossible. Two turns into the new path, her tail must have picked up on her plan and lammed off down a side street. Xaeryn wondered if he thought he was being subtle, and kept a careful eye out the rest of the way back. Despite not seeing any further tails, she remained on guard until she turned the key in her office door, slipped in, and locked it behind her.

“Intriguing development,” she murmured to the empty room as she unpinned her hat. And an interesting end to a very full day. Xaeryn sat wearily at her desk and kicked off her shoes. Even choosing comfort over style, her feet were sore from all the walking. Merchants’ Guild, Ashtown, the Hall... and barely a chance to sit all day. She returned her notepad to the desk drawer and locked it again, but left the stiletto blade in her handbag. She’d likely need it tomorrow anyway. Particularly if it was anywhere near as busy as today.

Busy enough to have missed any telephone calls that came while I was gadding about. Normally while already on a case, that would bother her less, but Red had said he’d call if he learned anything new. She’d hate to be missing information that could help the case, she mused, flicking a glance from the telephone to the clock on her wall. Hopefully this wasn’t too late for her to call him. She dug her notepad back out and flipped through the pages until she reached the section in Red’s sprawling shorthand. There, on the back of a previous page, tucked in the corner like a random doodle, was his office telephone number. Xaeryn smiled at the close resemblance of his eights and zeroes, but knew her own ones and sevens weren’t much better.

After only a brief moment of further hesitation, she pulled the telephone closer and started dialing. It wasn’t that late.

It was answered on the third ring, a slightly breathless, “Hello?”

“Liefred?”

“Xaeryn.” There was a note of surprise in his voice.

“Got it in one, smart man.” But I knew that.

He laughed. “Not that hard; you’re just about the only one who insists on calling me that, even if you don’t need to.” There was a small creak that conjured mental images of him leaning against the desk or slouched in his chair. “Everything alright? Did you need something?”

“Other way ‘round, actually.” Xaeryn fiddled with her notepad. “I’ve had a busy day and it occurred I wasn’t here much if you’d called, so I thought I’d check.”

“There are these people called secretaries, Xaeryn,” Red teased. “You might look into hiring one of them.”

“I know, I know.” She snorted softly. “Especially since most people don’t have your genial reaction to me missing their calls...”

“Most people haven’t known you since you were a gangly fourteen year old trying to cram yourself in the library loft to read in peace, either,” he said warmly. “I know how focused you get. And nothing new, I’m afraid. I got stuck lecturing first-years all day.”

“And you survived,” Xaeryn laughed, curling her toes in and out when they started to cramp.

“Barely,” Red said with a rueful laugh(she’d bet he was running a hand through his hair). “And that despite their best efforts.”

“See, this is why I didn’t want to stick around,” she said, only half-joking.

“Smart woman,” he deadpanned. “But I knew that already.”

Flatterer. It sounded coy and thus stayed in her head, replaced with an equally joking, “I won’t guest lecture, before you ask.”

“Damn,” he said lightly, “At any rate, I’m sorry I don’t have more yet-”

“Don’t apologize,” she cut him off. “I wasn’t expecting anything. Only checking. Just in case. Your responsibilities come first and they kept you busy today. I had plenty of other leads to chase today.”

“Where did they take you?” Red asked. “You mentioned being busy...”

“Merchants’ Guild to start. Then Ashtown-”

“Xaeryn.” His voice was already bristling worry.

“--to talk to Thieves’ guild.”

“Alone?! Ryn-” Red huffed a sigh of exasperated, retroactive concern and she bit back a laugh at how well she’d pegged his reaction. “Do you... take risks like that often?”

“Only when I need to,” she said carefully. Wouldn’t be mentioning the tail on her way home, then. “I know how to handle myself, Liefred. I was polite, we talked, I left. It was fine.”

A long moment of silence. “If you say so.” He didn’t sound completely convinced. (She decided not to tell him her office-apartment sat right by the boundary between Astown and Smoketown) “What else?”

“Just the Hall of History and Culture to speak with the curator.” She shifted in her chair. “That one took a while, but I got some good information to follow up tomorrow.”

“Best of luck with that, and... be careful?”

Xaeryn smiled fondly, unsure whether or not to hope it carried into her voice. “As I can be.” A beat, then she added lightly, “I’d hate to wind up a cautionary tale in one of your lectures, Headmaster.”

“Xaeryn.” She could practically see him trying to glower at her(and failing; Red couldn’t be that mean) through the telephone. “I’m serious.”

“I know.” And I appreciate it. She sobered her tone to match his. “But my line of work comes with risks sometimes.The best I can do is promise not to exacerbate them.”

“I’ll take it,” Red said softly, then was quiet a long moment. “I should let you go; it sounds like you have another busy day tomorrow?”

“I do.” She’d still stay up til midnight talking to him in a heartbeat, but, “and you probably need to recover from this one.”

“Mm. I get to do it again tomorrow, too,” he said glibly.

Xaeryn laughed. “I’ll keep you in my thoughts,” she said with mock solemnity “Good luck to you, as well, in that case.”

“Thank you, I’ll need it,” Red chuckled softly. “Goodnight, Xaeryn.”

“Goodnight, Liefred.”

She stared at the telephone a long moment after hanging up, smile curling her lips, before pushing out of the chair. After a day like this, she needed dinner, a hot bath, and a good night’s sleep. In that order.

She still double checked the door was locked before turning in.

----

(what you don’t see, bc I stuck with Ryn POV, is Pan was in Red’s office with him when she called. :3 Cue Pan promptly batting his eyelashes, making exaggerated lovestruck faces, and generally being a little shit bc He Knows, while Red’s gesturing for Pan to GET OUT of his office. and trying to get him to listen without actually talking so Ryn doesn’t know someone’s there(he doesn’t know why he doesn’t want her knowing that, he just doesn’t). Pan finally relents but hangs in the hallway til they’re done and comes back in with the biggest shit-eating grin “You’re still stuck on her, aren’t you?” Red, groaning and burying his face in his hands: “Pan, close your head, PLEASE. yes”)

#queens fic #shoh #xaeryn shrike #red antiqua #chase trinaeste #shery acquell #tlbt #ryn/red

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blametheeditor · 3 years

Text

David’s New Pet

Warnings: David being a grade-A douche bag. Mentions of people being treated as pets or pests. Cursing. Mistreatment of others. Mentions of death. Mentions of murder. Mentions of someone being an orphan. Mentions of someone not wanting to adopt someone. Someone having the lack of sympathy or apathy. Someone being extremely insensitive.

I have no intentions of making the situation something to not take seriously. I mean no harm with how I’ve written it. Just be warned it has trigger warnings.

Run Down: Will admit, this is fairly old writing, but I wanted to throw it, so have and angsty (though only semi-angsty???) David getting a new pet!

I absolutely refuse to write the entire stories that come after this.

____________________

“Why are you always trying to get stepped on?”

David glares down at the human standing before him.

“Definitely not helping with the fact I think your species can’t even think past what animals do.”

He can’t see the minuscule expression, the form not even three inches tall, but frankly he couldn’t care less.

“And I will never understand why you think you deserve to even stand in my office. I’ll just be spraying pesticides to finally get rid of you pests.”

The business man raises an eyebrow when Fritz doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even move. Asshole, thinking he can get away with something like this and not pay the consequences. Of course the redhead is valuable, an exceptional coder who completes every task no matter what time restraint the giant gives.

The only real problem is the brilliant worker William Afton had on hand to be transferred between the restaurants of Freddy Fazbear’s is human. A lowly creature who doesn’t contribute anything but taking up vital parts of this world. Gives nothing to society, annoying beyond belief as he’s forced to watch his steps when walking around his own office of a business he owns.

“Are you even listening?” David demands, growling down at the unmoving teenager. Which, by the way, isn’t even in uniform.

Idiotic waste of his time. “As long as you’re here, I might as well have you do the one thing you’re not completely useless for.”

Again there’s no response as the giant carelessly walks ‘around’ the human and calls for Lefty. With that he ignores everything, phone out to text people who should actually exist in this fucked beyond repair world, leaning against his desk and ordering flyers and party supplies.

Finally the black bear appears in the office doorway. “Mr. Harrison, why is Mr. Smith crying?”

David hesitates, glancing up from his screen. “I don’t give a shit, frankly. I need him to update your coding on a new song, however, and him wanting to sob for no goddamn reason isn’t my problem.”

“And why is Mr. Smith here when he isn’t scheduled for today?”

...because he is?

“Fritz,” the business man snaps, growing exceptionally pissed off when he realized the human was apparently in his office just because. “Explain.”

“...my mum, my mum is dead.”

One less pest in this world, now that is good news.

“Condolences,” is said with an eye roll. And just why the hell does this have him receiving an unnecessary and unwanted visit?

“And I, I don’t have anyone that’s family here, here in the United States. So, so I’m getting put in the...the foster system.”

David grows still at that, listening to the strained voice making sure the sobs don’t escape even with the obvious pain.

“It’s been, really has been, been such a pleasure working for you, Mr. Harrison. But, but where I’m going, I’ll be...I’ll be unable to work for you any longer.”

The redhead slumps in despair at that, as if preparing to be stepped on, kicked or flicked across the room. Treated like the pest the giant before him has always claimed he is. Now that he’s useless, he’s bothering a successful man just because.

No shadow descends upon him, however.

...well, uh.

David glances back down at who’s about to be his former employee.

This is good. Great. He’s getting rid of a little pest he technically had been forced into hiring, having wanted to switch a pathetic human even if the giant coder wasn’t even 1% as good as Fritz. No more watching his step, making the world right again.

“When?”

He pretends not to notice the choked sob from the question. “They, they said if you need, need the standard two weeks to, to get another person to...to take my position-”

“You’re easily replaceable, human.”

David is only given a nod.

“Yes, Mr. Harrison.”

“You may go.”

Fritz sprints as fast as possible out of the business man’s office, wiping tears away as he runs, exiting into the hallway and continuing, needing to get out of the restaurant.

...he’s leaving.

The giant waves away the animatronic that’s now useless to him at the moment to follow after the little insect like a goddamn puppy. Never will he understand why such a thing would occur, a giant bear who frankly looks like he’s happily murdered a few children interested in such a lowly being, but he can’t think about that.

Much more important things to do.

...leaving.

“Fritz!”

David growls when the human doesn’t appear.

“Fritz!”

Now he’s getting piss.

“FRITZ!”

“Mr. Harrison!”

...why the fuck does his coder sound like Happy?

That’s because the frog animatronic is the one speaking. Her purple eyes hold an emotion the business man doesn’t want to even comprehend. Doesn’t want to attempt to register that even ‘sentient’ like all the other dumbasses of so called ‘night guards’ claim shouldn’t be able to show any kind of emotions. Not when their mouths aren’t able to form anything outside of a permanent smile. Bitch face in Lefty’s case.

David waves a hand, clearly not in the mood. “Out. I called for-”

“Mr. Smith, I know.” Shit did the expression get stronger? “He’s gone, Mr. Harrison. Remember?”

...oh.

“The little pest should be here. Didn’t give me two goddamn weeks.”

“He offered two weeks, Mr. Harrison. You didn’t take it.”

“He’s an absolute asshole allowing his mother to-”

David stiffens when the frog was no longer listening, not even in his office doorway anymore. Fine, go cry to Orville and tell the bastard he’s ‘being insensitive’. He doesn’t care. More free-time for him.

...fuck.

“This is Scott Cawthon.”

“You’re a father, right?”

The giant stares into space before slowly, carefully pulling his phone in front of him, staring at the fact that the human. Hung. Up.

On him.

“Scott! You LITTLE-!”

“David, shut up before I send Vincent to kick your ass.” The eldest guard waits until the sound of a mouth opening is heard. “Don’t make me hang up again.”

“Adopt Fritz.”

“...yOU-!”

The business man holds his phone away from his face as it becomes clear the innocent human has been talking to Mike too much. Being the less superior race is one thing, but getting tainted by the Fucked Up Night Guard is an entirely new low.

“Are you done?”

Scott nearly screams again before forcing himself to stop. “You adopt Fritz.”

“YOU MOTHER-! WAIT DON’T YOU PULL THAT FUCKING PHONE AWAY OR I WILL SQUASH YOU LIKE THE BUG YOU ARE!”

“David, you will either adopt the kid, or hope he’ll forgive you for everything you’ve done to him-”

“Done for him.”

“-done to him and be willing to work for you after he turns eighteen in two years and therefore able to live alone and not have a guardianship. I adore him, I really do, but I have my own children.

“And never would I force him to live with me when he’s clearly attached to you.”

“Well then I hope you’re goddamn happy, Scott, because-” David freezes, slowly feeling his shoulders slump if only a millimeter. “What did you say?”

The human hangs up yet again. He’s not immediately greeted by the angry sound of a phone ringing, however.

Attached to him. One, Scott screwed himself by making it sound like Fritz is a pet. Two...

“Greg, you’re in charge.”

“Fritz Smith?”

Said teenager flashes a bright smile even as tears threaten to appear, thanking the woman.

Bye Mike. Bye Jeremy. Bye Caleb.

The tears start forming around his eyes, unable to stop them as he continues walking toward the room’s door and exit into the courthouse.

Bye Scott. Bye James. Bye Eggs.

The first time he walked out of the room a man, woman, and little girl had greeted him, his temporary foster family making sure he had food, a place to sleep, supervision.

Bye Vincent. Bye Mr. Afton.

Now he’s going to be adopted, taken far away, or with parents who don’t want him working.

Bye-

“Mr. Harrison!”

Fritz’s wide smile stays in place even with the giant clearly annoyed by his enthusiasm, those hazel eyes as big as his head narrowed into a glare.

“You’re not supposed to be happy to see me h-”

Mike doesn’t acknowledge the murderous look aimed toward him from elbowing the business man. Not with his answer to the dumbass being “Douche Bag, you’re about to adopt the little fucker. And these bastards won’t hand his ass over if you threaten him.”

I hate humans.

But fine! He’ll behave. Especially when Fritz is looking almost horrified instead of overjoyed. Technically only David’s allowed to be disgusted with people and insects.

“Adopting?” the teenager questions. “You’re adopting me?”

“As a guardian,” the business man states, allowing it to almost sound like a threat.

“Why the hell did you think I came here?”

“I thought, you wanted to see me off.”

An eyebrow raises. “Well by all means, if you’d like some other-”

“NO!”

Scott smirks as the human actually manages to shut the egotistical giant up, shock coating the man’s face at the panic of going with someone else. That’s when David screws himself over. “Even if it was Scott?”

The business man growls when someone who should be fearing him stepping on them says he wants to be with the superior being. Not that he can blame Fritz, clearly he’s the greatest person alive. But pests should fear him, not think he’ll be a wonderful little guardian.

Fuck this I should just leave.

“Fritz.”

David watches over crossed arms as a human behind the counter summons his apparent new charge. About to become charge. Live in his house, eat his food, fuck it up. Can’t forget that wonderful part.

But, his head nods when...green eyes? He doesn’t care, when Fritz looks up before signing to state he’s in agreement living with someone a hundred times his size. And after Scott and Mike sign, vowing the man is responsible enough to not crush the teenager, they’re waved goodbye.

…huh. So, Fritz is his now.

Gross.

“Come on. I’m not going to make sure you keep up so run or get left behind.”

“Yes, Mr. Harrison!”

#g/t #FNAF Bois #giant #tiny #trigger warning #tw foster care #tw death mention #tw #you know #I don’t think I ever posted this particular story anywhere #it was mostly a slightly angsty rant #but I hope it’s liked!#look I promise the David gets softer #after much angst….#you have NO idea how many random and angsty stories I’ve writen with these two #MAYbe I’ll post ‘em one day #David’s New Pet #writing #BTE writing

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szynkaaa · 4 years

Photo

I more or less watched The Boy!!! And by watching, I mean I skipped more or less through the jump scare parts because I cannot do horror movies at all. I haven’t watched one since 2015 and The Boy was like the first horror movie after five years

Full disclosure, the ONLY reason I started watching the movie was because someone posted a gif of Greta standing close to Brahms who was all sweaty and breathing heavily n I was like “oh shit who dat he hot” and here I am

Can anyone explain the sandwich scene to me? So Greta was scared shitless and locked herself in her room, but why did Brahms make her favorite sandwich for her?

I did some digging for interviews and generally what people have been saying about the movie, took some screenshots from youtube to put my thoughts and musing together too!

Can anyone explain the sandwich scene to me? So Greta was scared shitless and locked herself in her room, but why did Brahms make her favorite sandwich for her?

So first of all, let’s start with a low resolution photo I found on IG of James Russell without mask:

which brings me to my first musing/thought/question?

It’s all under the cut, very screenshot and text heavy, you can find more Brahms drawing at the bottom though ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

So at the end of the movie, we are shown a Brahms with a broken mask and his face being burned, indicating that he was in fact in the fire.

I assumed first that the fire was created by the parents to fake their sons death and then he had to live hidden inside the walls?

But I’ve also heard apparently it was Brahms who set the fire to fake his own death or maybe an eight years old kid really was trying to burn himself down??

My other theory is that his parents made the fire and tried to kill Brahms and it did burn him but he survived, and the parents didn’t wanna go to jail sooo to hide everything they made their son live in the walls

i mean the responsible thing would be to turn their kid in and have him treated and stuff;;; listened to a murder podcast about two cases where kids murdered enough kids and how they are doing now interesting read Brahms made me think of those two cases

I also do not think that the previous nannies were killed. Like, c’mon. You’d report a person missing and sooner or later it would go back to the Heelshire mansion and if the body counts piles up? Can’t look good and I doubt that the Heelshire wants the police investigating them close up.

Also, when the mom was like “He’s chosen you if you’ll have him” to Greta? Is it just me or the wording or does it sound like a marriage proposal/arrangement xD

Brahms is a brat and he sees the people around him as his possession or to toy around. But I also do think that he has some abandonment issues but not in the sad tragic kind of way lmao. Even if he was the one controlling and manipulating his parents from behind-the-scene (quite literally I suppose?), he was still told as a kid to live in hiding and that no one can know he is alive. I don’t know much about the human brain, but I can imagine how damaging that must be to his mental growth and set him back in some way? We don’t know too much about his relationship with his parents - but I assume that he must have still loved them in his own twisted way. Can’t imagine that he would have been indifferent about his parents suicide.

The scene before Greta manages to back out - first he uses the child voice to beg her to come back and promises he will be good. That’s his manipulating Greta, but when that doesn’t work and she tries harder to open the door, he becomes more desperate to keep her there and then completely loses his temper and threatens to kill Malcolm if she doesn’t return. I’m pretty sure homeboy would have killed him anyway. And then later when she returns and he is all heavy breathing and smelling her hair and then jumps up when she shouts Brahms? Idk I def think there is some sort of abandonment issue going on.

I don’t think he is a child stuck in a man’s body or manchild or whatever. I think that he does know how to take care of himself - but he just chooses to manipulate people with the facade of a kid to do his bidding and cater to his needs.

Anywhomst, but clearly Brahms is also a very manipulative and controlling person based, based on how the mother was reacting on the destroyed bedroom, she really seemed to be at the end of her wits and just breaking down with her “you promised you’d be good”. It was very heartbreaking to watch and also scary because it really makes you realize just how much power Brahms holds over them?? idk maybe it was just me.

Next point: the CGI mask + the burns

So according to some interviews with the director stated that at the first test streaming, people weren’t really scared of Brahms because he was too handsome so they had to slap a mask over his face. The face was done after everything was filmed. I’m thinking the face burns were also added post-production when they were adding the cgi mask. Otherwise, James would have needed to go through the makeup department for some wicked face burns and it would have been visible during the filming and test screening too? Which would imply that at first the fire was supposed to be just a cover story that their son is dead and it was changed later

Observation/thoughts on Brahms Heelshire

Love how he stands there with his hands behind his back and then nods when Greta tells him to go under the cover

James Russell is 191cm tall. So like. Brahms is really fucking tall. But I notice that most of the time he stands with a slight hunch. Could be due to him crawling through the walls and crawling out of places that requires him to do a lot of crouching. His bed in his hideout made me really sad, I’ll get to it later.

Since James didn’t get many lines in the ten minutes that he appeared, I do think that his eyes did all the acting. They stand out even more with the mask on, there is just this crazy look on it. I also noticed during my rewatch that he doesn’t seem to blink much or at all.

Oh yeah, he also peeped on Greta and Malcolm making out on the bed and then cockblocked them. We been knowing that he made a Greta doll and very likely jerked off to it. We also been knowing that he very very very likely wanted to bone Greta at the goodnight kiss scene still waiting for the maskeless kiss scene gimme gimme. I also highly doubt that Brahms has much first-hand experience with kissing n stuff. High key thinking he was trying to do copy Malcolm and do what he observed lmao

When I first watched the scene, I assumed that the hole behind the mirror has always been and it’s just another one of the hidden passages Brahms to slip in and out, but now that I’m looking at the shape of the holes, it seems to me more like the mirror and brick wall were broken at the same time?? If that is the case holy shit boy is s t r o n g. I mean, he also punched through the closet door like no big deal so really what have the parents been feeding him.

I’m also leaning toward the fact that he ran there because Greta screamed loudly. I don’t think he was in the room as them when everything went down there, it seemed more like he heard the scream and had to nyoomed over and then punched a way through to get out of the wall. And then went on to attack Cole. He must have known that Greta wanted Cole gone, since that what she whispered to the doll before going to bed.

Tbh, I fully expected him to murder Cole in his sleep, but Brahms wrote a warning message in blood to tell him to get out soooooo like. Cole you were warned and now you gotta live with the consequences ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Brahm’s sleeping corner

This scene was shown at the end after Greta and Malcolm escaped. We also see them briefly during the part where Greta and Malcolm are trying to find a way out and stumbled into Brahms’ hideout. I’m not sure why the rules are slapped on the walls. It seems to me that Brahms is very very very set on that the rules / routine should be followed. In the movie, he called Greta and suggested to her that she should follow the rules, to which she then started doing it.

I headcanon that that’s the routine that he grew up with as a kid and it’s just very very very very very hard to break out of it - not that he is trying to break the routine.

I’m failing to find a good way to put my thoughts into words, but I guess the rules and routine is sort of his coping mechanism?

I suppose if you had an OC that you ship Brahms with and want to change stuff around the house, the OC would have to very slowly introduce new rules and routines. Baby steps, yknow.

Brahms has a violin hanging there! Honestly I would be surprised if Brahms didn’t know how to play at least one instrument. The family also has an old ass piano/clavichord (?) and Brahms loves classical music soo yeah. Love me a boy who appreciates classical musical hehe

I suppose the egg boxes are there to soundproof the room more - maybe so he can play the violin?

There’s also music sheets hung around his attics, it’s not clear on the screenshots but when you rewatch the scene and shove your face close to the screen. Some are hanging next to the violin and there are some taped on the wall next to his bed and porn too

nice to see he has a fridge and microwave, I was concerned that he wasn’t well fed and that leftovers might not be enough, but then again. Dude is 191 cm so clearly he has been drinking his milk

Didn’t take a screenshot of his vanity, but there is a crocodile magnet stuck to the mirror hehe. I do think that he shaves and stuff, otherwise his beard would be much longer??

We can see more music sheets stuck to a pillar on the right.

Loving the christmas lights that he has hanging there above his bed. It’s cute.

On the shelf he has a bunch of tupperware and empty bowls. Most of hte things are neatly organized. We can also see some books and a pen

There’s some sunlight streaming inside - I do hope that Brahmsy stays warm during winters.

Here we can see more of the food that he has there - there is also a sink but I didn’t snatch a screenshot of it. I think those are potatoes in the pot? Maybe he does know how to cook some basic stuff, I do wonder if he has a functioning kitchen up there. Probably not for fire safety reasons lol

Yall see that thing on the note sheet covered pillar? Ngl, that’s a whole ass aesthetic right there.

He got a few potted plants up there. Took a closer look at them and it seems like they were healthy. So he knows how to take care of plants, which is nice to know I suppose?

Yes, we all know what he was doing with the doll and what the tissue balled up tissue implies. However, has anyone noticed the size of the bed???

If you scroll up a bit to the screenshot of Greta seeing the doll, it looks t i n y. The make shift doll takes up more than half of the space.

Yall. this breaks my heart. Dude is a beanstalk. I’m pretty sure the bed is from when he was a kid shoved by his parents to live inside the wall, does he have to sleep there in his adulthood too???

Even though Brahms strikes me as someone who probably doesn’t sleep much or during normal times, that bed must be so tiny for him. He must be sleeping with his knees bend and shit unable to stretch out :(((

Brahms: is a psychopath that smashed the skull of a girl and very abusive tormented his parents and then Greta Me: omg he needs a bigger bed that poor thing :(((

Brahms’ DIY corner

Ah yes, Brahm’s little DIY/creative corner.

Homeboy got lot of animal traps, cages and taxidermies hanging around, pointing strongly toward that it’s a hobby of it?

Also at the end where we see him fixing up the doll, we can get a better shot at his desk, and I gotta say the threads and stuff are all very nicely organized. Brahms’s table looks more organized than mine does lmao.

So we know he is a crafty boy. Not sure how difficult taxidermy is but I imagine it does take a lot of time to learn? Well he had all the time in the world anyway.

So yeah, that’s a wrap. Congrats if you made it to the bottom of my incoherent thoughts and ramblings, have a bonus drawing of Brahms wearing different masks:

#the ham talks #brahms heelshire #the boy #the boy 2016 #brahms #brahmbling

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cheeriecherry · 4 years

Text

Space Between [Aizawa Shouta x F!Reader x Yamada Hizashi] [2/9]

EraserMic x Reader

Part 2/8

Warnings: depictions of PTSD, one (1) mention of vomiting (nothing graphic), very brief mention of violence (also nothing graphic), your friends being concerned about you, hugs

You wake up the next morning with a very sore, very stiff neck. You appreciate your friends putting you up for a while, but between the two of them they had terrible taste in furniture. In fact, you’re pretty certain their couch is the same couch you three shared when you first got your own place together…

You sit up on the lumpy cushions, wincing when your spine crackles. When you move to stand you find that you can’t, held in place by previously unnoticed twin weights on your blanketed legs. Your heart rate speeds up for a moment, before you realize it’s just a pair of cats sleeping on you.

You carefully finagle your way out from under them, taking extra care not to rouse or wake them. One of them chirps and stretches, and you pause, but she quickly falls back to sleep, tucked up against her companion.

Once you’re free, you wander towards the kitchen to find something to eat. Hizashi had offered to order takeout last night, but you were nearly dead on your feet by the time you walked into the house. You’d gone straight to bed, and now you had to deal with the stomach cramps.

You search around in the pantry and fridge for a while, finding few things more than rice, bread, condiments, and a couple canned goods. It made sense, considering how busy your friends were, but it was also a little ridiculous.

“You’d think two grown men could handle some grocery shopping,” you mumble, and settle on some rice, eggs, and toast. Not your ideal breakfast, but it was better than nothing.

You prepare the rice and set a pan on the stove in a haze, still muddled with sleep. Once both are sufficiently rinsed and warming, you set the rice off to cook and plop down at the kitchen table, where you notice a folded paper sitting. With your name on it.

Curious, you flip it open, instantly recognizing Hizashi’s messy writing.

‘Sho and I had to head out early, but we didn’t want to wake you. You were tossing a lot in your sleep.’

You think briefly back to the dreams you’d had, if you’d even had any. You usually had nightmares, but oftentimes you didn’t remember them, only waking with a hollow and sinking feeling in your chest.

‘You’ve got free run of the place, so use and eat what you want. Be warned, there’s not a lot in the fridge…we don’t really eat at home much. If you need the internet, Sho’s laptop is in the office across from the bedroom. See you tonight around ten!

-H’

You smile at the note, the signature consisting of a single letter, with a poor rendition of a cockatiel and a cat beside it.

You’re glad they have each other, you decide, and glad they’ve gotten together. It shouldn’t have been so much of a surprise to you, Hizashi was always more interested in Shouta than he was you. Sure, he doted on you when you were kids, but when Shouta came into the picture his attention shifted. You admit you had been a little jealous in the beginning, but now…

Maybe you’d just supposed it would always be the three of you together. You’d never bothered with dating or relationships, aside from the feelings you harboured for your best friends. You never saw the point, always content and happy to be with the two of them, even if it wasn’t romantic. They had been your rocks, your safe place, in years past.

You hadn’t comprehended that your interests could be so drastically different.

“C’mon, shake it off, stupid. They’re happy together, don’t ruin it with your feelings.” You run your hands down your face, sighing deeply. The rice would be ready soon, so you might as well get started on the eggs.

You butter a piece of bread and cut a hole out of the center, dropping it in the frying pan and cracking an egg into it.

Egg In A Hole, one of the first things you’d ever learned to cook. You were seven when you’d first tried it, and Hizashi had been there as well. You’d been at your house after school and he’d claimed to be hungry, and you -ever wanting to impress him- had set a stool in front of the stove and made him the fanciest meal you could think of.

Looking back, you’re amazed you didn’t burn or undercook anything. He had claimed it was the most amazing thing he’d ever tasted, and for years it was a staple whenever you hung out… he’d hopped off that train by the time you were twelve, but every so often you’d still made him Eggs In A Hole.

Now it’s more of a comfort, more of you holding on to a time long passed. Things were different now, you were different, your friends were different-

“Shit!” you hiss, as the toast starts to burn in one corner, smoking up the kitchen. You turn the fan on and flip it over to cook the other side, sighing in relief when the egg doesn’t splatter everywhere.

You’re glad you weren’t sent undercover as a cook on your mission. Your skills in the kitchen are sub par at best, and where you’d been, nothing less than perfection was accepted. Anything burnt or under-seasoned would have been air for punishment; fingernails ripped off, palms cut up, thumbs broken. Anything that would further hinder work…and result in more punishment.

That was just the kind of person your target was. A rich american woman with a taste for torture, and a quirk that allowed her to feast on and destroy the hope in others. She had ‘hired’ you as a silent killer, despite the fact that she could easily kill people herself…or make them kill themselves.

You squeeze your eyes shut and take a deep breath, willing the thoughts away. You weren’t there anymore. You were here, with Hizashi, with Shouta. Safe. Safe.

You scoop the eggs and toast onto a plate, but your stomach has already turned. Memories didn’t pair well with breakfast, it seemed.

Once the rice is finished cooking, you wrap everything up and set it in the fridge for later, and continue going about your day.

—-

Ten PM rolls around before you know it, and your friends walk through the front door. You’ve stolen Shouta’s laptop from the office and moved it to the couch, where you now sit staring intensely at the screen.

The two of them watch you for a moment. If your stillness, posture, and bloodshot eyes are anything to go by, you’ve been like that for a while.

“You’re gonna hurt your back sitting like that,” Shouta says, kicking his boots off and wandering further into the house.

“In a second,” you reply, waving him off.

Hizashi sighs dramatically, crossing his arms. “She’s not even paying attention, Sho. We could be making out right now, and she wouldn’t even notice. Hey, watch this-”

“Hizashi,” you threaten, not looking away from the screen, “if you pull your pants down, I’ll shave your head while you sleep.”

“No fun.” But he removes his hands from his jeans anyways.

Shouta meanders up behind you, leaning over the back of the couch to see what you’re so intent on. “What’s got you so focused?” he asks, scanning the page you’re reading, “You were never like this in school.”

You remain stoic, missing the joke completely. “Conviction trials,” you explain, “I want to make sure every single one of those rich pricks I outed gets put behind bars. I’ve been scrounging news outlets since five.”

“And?”

“Nothing.” You sit up straighter, stretching your back and rubbing at your eyes. “I gave the commission enough information to put these people in prison for life! Why haven’t they been brought in yet!”

“You’ve only been out for a little while. These things take time.” His tone is gentle and concerned, but to your addled brain it feels more patronizing.

You fist your hair in your hands and tug. “I gave them hideouts, names, faces, addresses, bank numbers, concrete evidence against these people! A few days should be enough time to find them! They’re top priority criminals! They should be caught by now!”

A warm hand rests on your shoulder, jarring you violently out of your thoughts. You tense beneath the touch, electricity prickling down your arm, and you look up at him with wide eyes.

“Breathe,” he says.

You breathe.

He squeezes your shoulder slightly, comfortingly. “It’ll happen. Give the media time to catch up.”

You look away from him, finding a spot on the floor to stare at, and slump forward in defeat. “If it gets out that I was the snitch, too…”

The room is quiet for a couple beats as your words register, and the hand on your shoulder rubs soft circles into your skin. “Your partner…they were killed, weren’t they.” It’s not a question, merely an observation.

You nod.

“I can’t let them find me, Shouta. The way these people kill their targets-”

“You’re safe here, Y/N. Always. The chances of these criminals getting into the country undetected is between slim and none. Their faces will be plastered on every single no-fly list, every district wanted list.”

“They can do whatever they want, as long as they have the money.” You turn back to the laptop, continuing to scroll around various news outlets. “Even once they’re in prison, they’ll have outside connections. If they find out it was me who outed their whole operation, I’ll have a target on my back for the rest of my life.”

Shouta lets go of your shoulder, and walks around the couch to take a seat beside you, knees bumping against yours.

“There are…resources,” he begins, choosing his words carefully, “for heroes who’ve been undercover. To help them readjust to everyday life-”

“I don’t need a therapist,” you hiss, scowling. “I need…I need-”

A pair of hands scoops the laptop out of your grip, flipping it closed and setting it aside. But before you can complain, your now-warmed-up plate of food from that morning is set in your lap, and Hizashi takes a seat on your other side.

“If you don’t want a therapist, then at least take care of yourself, okay? Eat.”

Your scowl persists as you chew.

—-

You jolt awake on the couch at an unbeknownst hour of the morning, covered head to toe in a thin sheen of sweat. Your head is spinning and your ears are ringing, and you barely make it to the bathroom before you’re dry heaving into the sink. Nothing comes up, save for bitter bile, but you’re exhausted once the short wave of nausea passes.

You rinse your mouth and the sink out, and splash some water on your face. With any luck, you won’t have woken anyone, but when you exit the bathroom you nearly walk face first into Shouta, who’s leaning beside the door.

“It sounded like you were getting sick.” His tone isn’t accusing, but his posture puts your guard up.

“Nothing came out, so it’s fine.”

You wander back to the living room, hoping to leave the conversation, but he only follows.

“Why were you getting sick in the first place?”

“I dunno,” you grumble tensely, “adrenaline reaction maybe? Who’s to say why people puke.”

He’s quiet for several moments, observing you, your fidgeting, your agitation. You feel like you’re under a microscope, with the way he’s looking at you.

“What happened to you out there?” he asks.

“Stuff,” you mutter.

I got people killed.

“Stuff that gives you nightmares every time you sleep?”

“I don’t need a therapist.”

I don’t deserve to come back from this.

“Your sleep-yelling woke me up. You’re lucky Hizashi wears earplugs.”

You turn away from him and grab your water bottle off the coffee table, plopping grumpily onto the couch. Shouta hesitates for a moment before finding a seat beside you again. Warmth radiates off his body, which is pressed comfortingly against your side. You can feel the tension easing out of your shoulders in his presence.

“What’s so bad about therapists, anyways?” he asks, genuinely curious. “Lots of people need them. Hizashi and I have both seen a couple over the years.”

“I don’t need someone to tell me there’s something wrong with me.”

Shouta sighs. “That’s not what they do, and you know it. What’s the real reason?”

You silently curse his ability to read you like a book, to always somehow know when you’re lying. But…you’re not sure you could tell him the truth.

“I just…don’t like the idea, okay? Leave it at that.”

He watches you silently, searching in your averted gaze for any willingness to open up, but he finds only sadness…and shame. “I should head back to bed, then. Early morning, and whatnot. Try and get some more sleep.”

He rises off the couch, and without thinking you follow suit, and quickly envelope him in a hug.

“I’m sorry,” you sniffle, burying your face in his chest. He’s surprised for a moment, but is quick to wrap his arms around you, holding you tight while you tremble against him.

He pats small circles into you back, keeping you close until your breathing begins to even out. “Just…don’t let this go on for too long, okay?” It’s the closest you’ve ever heard him to begging, “I don’t know what happened to you out there, but you’re obviously suffering.”

You pull away slightly, tired and defeated, and nod. “I’ll look into it. Those resources you mentioned. Okay?”

You release each other fully, and he gives you one last pat to the head.

“Okay. Now, really, try and get some more sleep.”

#aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #yamada hizashi x reader #yamada x reader #erasermic x reader #reader insert #bnha x reader #mha x reader #Space Between #it will get happy soon i promise #eraserhead x reader #present mic x reader

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bimboamyrose · 4 years

Text

Unfamiliar - A Metamy Fanfic (Ch. 6)

Ch. 6: Instinct

First two chapters

Previous (Ch.5) CW: (mild) blood

NOTES: I posted this earlier but the tags were screwed up? Sorry if this is the second time you see this. More notes in the tags.

.......................................................................

“Okay, now add the eggs and vanilla,” Amy instructed. She was sitting at her kitchen counter watching her guests attempt to make chocolate chip cookies. Cream insisted that Amy just read out the ingredients and relax.

Cream reached for the amber bottle of vanilla extract. “How much is it again?”

“Two teaspoons.”

“Yes, captain!” Cream saluted Amy, cracking two eggs into the mixing bowl and splashing a little too much vanilla over them. “Oops…”

Amy chuckled, “It’s okay, just mix it.”

“You heard the lady. Let’s mix!” Cream pointed at Metal Sonic, who was reluctantly standing to the side gripping an electric hand mixer. He emitted a low chime and made a salute- this was also at the young girl’s behest.

Amy couldn’t keep herself from cackling at the sight of a sweet child ordering around a tall, formidable machine. It was the last sight she expected to see in her kitchen. Metal shot daggers at her as he mixed but it didn’t deter her laughter.

It was always easy for Amy to become comfortable with people, and having someone stay at her place for a week straight didn’t give her a choice anyway. She and Metal spent the last few days idling around, doing whatever Amy normally did on her time off- watching movies, sewing her spring garden, painting (or at least watching Metal attempt to delicately hold a brush). Not knowing how long her plan would take to pan out, Amy pushed the thought of explaining it to Sonic far back into her mind. He’d left town the day she and Metal visited Tails and was planning to be away for a couple more days, but Amy still hadn’t found the words to put together a convincing argument. They would have to cross that bridge when they got there.

Metal thought after his initial repairs that he should address his memory loss with Amy. He didn’t have any choice but to wait for the possibility that Tails could restore it, but he had known Amy in the past and wanted to understand how. Then he found himself enjoying his time with her. Another unfamiliar feeling. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to simply wait a while.

“Stop! It’s smooth,” Cream directed. The loud whizzing of the electric mixer died down and she turned back to Amy. “What’s next?”

Amy got out the last of her giggles and brought the recipe card to her eye level. “Sift in the dry ingredients.”

Cream dumped the pre-measured flour and baking powder into the sifter and carefully shook the airy powder into the rest of the mix. Amy was about to open her mouth to read the next step but was cut off by Cream shouting “Mix it!”

“No wait-” Amy pleaded too late.

Metal had turned the mixer up on high, sending most of the flour flying up out of the bowl. It caked all their faces and most of the counter before he realized his mistake and hastily pulled the mixer out. Then he frantically waved a hand in front of his face, blinded.

Amy rubbed the flour out of her eyes. “You’re supposed to go slowly,” she wheezed. The first thing she saw was Metal groping around the kitchen counter blindly. Cream burst into laughter a second later. “I don’t know what you think is so funny- You’re the one who had to clean this mess!” Amy glowered.

“W-what?” Cream’s hooting was cut short. “But Metal’s the one who did it!”

“You’re the one forcing him! He can’t even eat cookies, why are you making him hold the hand mixer?”

“Doesn’t mean we can’t do it together,” Cream scoffed.

The aluminum measuring spoons clattered to the ground. Metal had continued fumbling around for something to clean his face off with, knocking them over by accident. Amy clicked her tongue and made her way around the counter, pulling a kitchen towel out of a drawer. “Hold still before you break something!” she clamored, reaching up to taking hold of Metal’s face in order to wipe the thick layer of flour off his eyes. “Don’t you remember where the towels are?”

He chimed indignantly in response. He was never in the kitchen, why would he bother learning where she kept the rags? When the layer of dust had been cleared out of his vision, he felt something akin to embarrassment at suddenly being face-to-face with Amy. She must have felt similarly because she turned away from him in a huff. There was color in her cheeks.

Amy’s communicator could be heard ringing from her bedroom. She turned to answer it. “We’ll clean it together, just get a head start while I answer this.” She could hear Cream sigh as she began wiping the counter.

Amy clicked the button on the large tablet-like device. Tails could be seen on the other side, waving. He looked nervous. “Hey, Tails. What’s up? Feeling okay?”

“I’m alright,” he shrugged. “Sonic wants to say hi…”

A knot suddenly tied in Amy’s gut. “Sonic? He’s back already?”

“Hey Ames!” the view suddenly shifted to the blue hedgehog. He was all smiles as he waved to her. “Sure am! How’s it goin’?”

Amy forced a smile. “Great! Just hanging out! Where were you?”

“Did a little scouting. I think Egghead is up to something as usual. We should all get together and see what we can do about it.”

“Oh, really? I’m a little busy-”

“And Tails said you wanted to talk to me about something! Just letting you know I’ll be right over. See ya!” he winked and the screen went blank.

Amy began to panic. For a moment, she was frozen. The tablet rang once more and Tails was on screen again. “Sorry! I was calling to warn you. He’s about to leave-”

“What did you tell him?” Amy interrupted.

“Nothing! Just that you wanted to talk to him.” Tails turned his head. “Uh, he just left-”

Amy hung up before Tails could finish. Sonic would be there in seconds. She ran back into the kitchen, startling her guests. “Cream, you have to go now. Metal, can you walk her out the back?”

Cream looked up from her cleaning. “Huh? But we’re not done baking these yet-”

“Go. Now!” Amy pointed to the back door. “I’ll explain later.”

The panic in her voice was obvious. Metal took Cream by the hand gently, nudging her out of the kitchen just as Amy whipped her head around. A loud knock came from the door. She wasn’t expecting to have this confrontation today.

Amy started toward the door. “I’ll call you later, Cream.”

“O-Okay…” the girl was led out through the back door by Metal. He was on high alert. Amy’s sudden change in demeanor was alarming, to say the least. He waved to Cream as she threw her jacket on and scuttled off the beach, shooting him back a worried look as she left. Amy wasn’t in the house when Metal re-entered.

She had stepped out the front door the moment she opened it, greeting Sonic outside. Neither of them was wearing jackets. Sonic rarely did, but Amy immediately felt the air nipping at her. “Hey! I wasn’t expecting company today…” Amy leaned back against the door, making sure it was shut behind her.

Sonic was usually greeted with a begrudging hug, but immediately noticed his friend’s anxiety instead. “Hey, Ames. Everything okay? What did you wanna talk about?”

“Um…” she avoided his gaze. “Never mind that, let’s talk about what you found while scouting.”

He stood with his fists against his hips impatiently. “We can talk about that with the team tomorrow. What’s up? Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing,” she shrugged.

“Then how come we’re still standing out here?”

Amy was out of answers. She stalled by taking a deep breath, as if she was preparing to say something, but she didn’t know what that something would be.

Inside, Metal made his way across the house to listen at the front door. He heard a male voice that he instinctively recognized as threatening. He couldn’t explain why, but the voice outside sounded like his opponent. Was Amy in danger? The words weren’t menacing, but that voice…

Metal pulled the door open hastily. Amy struggled with the doorknob momentarily, but it was no use- the door opened inward and Metal was capable of pulling it with enough force to take it off its hinges. She stumbled backward, bumping into him from behind.

Metal’s eyes met Sonic’s. Enemy. Nothing about the blue hedgehog’s appearance immediately screamed “dangerous” or “threatening” but that was the only word that came to Metal’s mind. Enemy. He reflexively slipped an arm around Amy’s waist, pulling her back.

“Metal- wait!” she gasped. Sonic had seen him do this before. The context was different then, but neither of them knew that.

The shock that came across Sonic was enough to give him a rare, brief moment of pause. But the second Metal Sonic dragged Amy away, he knew he was in for a battle. “I don’t know how you got in here, but if you don’t let her go-”

“Sonic, stop!” Amy pleaded, still in the robot’s grasp.

Sonic. Metal heard her say his name when they’d met some days earlier. He recalled the search he’d made into his memory. The corrupt file. The one thing he could associate with Sonic was enemy. His only instincts now were to fight and protect.

Metal leaped backward toward the sliding door with Amy in his grasp. He slammed it open and pulled her out the back; it was a miracle the glass didn’t shatter. She was pleading with him to stop. “Please! Let me explain!” But he wanted to get her far away from the approaching battle. Amy knew that if she struggled and managed to escape, there would be nothing stopping Sonic from attacking. Metal took her in his arms and accelerated toward the sky.

Amy didn’t know what to do. The cold wind stung her eyes and she held onto Metal tightly, dizzy from the sudden altitude. They flew up the hillside that formed a semi-circle behind the beach, landing on a grassy cliff that was wet from the melting frost. As Metal tried to put her down she folded her arms around him to prevent him from flying away. His engine whirred loudly and he reverberated a low note. He wasn’t going to let her prevent him from doing what he needed. He grabbed her arms and tried to force her off, sharp fingers digging into her delicate skin. Amy grimaced in pain but refused to let go. Realizing this, Metal softened his grip and tried his best to convey his confusion in his mechanical language. It stalled him long enough for Sonic to come running up the hillside and onto the same cliff.

“Get your hands off her!” Sonic looked for an opening to strike.

“Stop!” Amy held a hand out in front of her. “You need to listen to me, both of you-”

Metal slipped away from her, pushing her out of the way harshly. She lost her balance on the slippery grass and landed on her knees. He hadn’t meant to push her over, but Metal would have to find the time to apologize later. His long legs stepped around her coldly, approaching his opponent. They both stood offensively, each glaring at the other, unblinking. Metal was getting ready to take off into the air again to move the fight when they were interrupted.

Amy’s oversized mallet came down hard between them, ending their staring contest. The ground seemed to move beneath the three of them at the strike. Her scowl met Sonic first. “I said stop! Why don’t you ever listen?” she roared. Her eyes were twin volcanoes. “And you,” she whipped her head around to come face-to-face with Metal. “You idiot! You don’t even know why you’re fighting!” Amy’s shrieks echoed through the valley as she panted from the sudden exertion. Her throat felt as if she’d been breathing fire.

The other two seemed to realize at once that it was pointless to fight. Whatever instincts regularly guided them had failed in the wake of Amy’s intervention. Sonic knew better than to disregard Amy when she was fueled with this much rage. This wasn’t just her regular temper getting the better of her. The sudden charge frightened even Metal.

“Amy,” Sonic began.

“Shut up,” she shot back coldly. “You need to listen-”

“Amy, you’re bleeding.” he retorted, gesturing to her arm.

She looked at her right upper arm, where Metal had taken hold of her a few moments earlier. A small gash was beginning to send blood running down onto her forearm. She hurriedly covered it with her other hand and stood upright. “It’s just a scratch.” The chilly air, fierce anger, and shock of blood were enough to jerk Amy out of her adrenaline rush. She was shaking now.

Metal brought his rigid hands up to examine them. Blood capped the tips of the fingers on his left hand. Guilt came over him as he watched Amy’s white gloves turn pink.

Sonic took a step toward her. “Amy, just tell me what’s going on.”

“I will. Can we go home? I’m so cold.”

Sonic nodded, outstretching his arms to her. Metal put out his own hand but quickly stopped himself. He feared he would hurt her again. Amy turned back to him and nodded, as if to convince him that she was okay. Her pale face and shivering form were not so reassuring. “Meet us down there,” she told Metal as she took a seat in Sonic’s arms. Sonic knit his brow.

They sped down the cliffside and onto the beach. He slowed to a walk on the damp sand. “You can put me down,” Amy requested.

“Don’t be stubborn, we’re almost there. What’s gotten into you?”

Sonic carried her through the back door. Chilly air entered the house with them as it had been left open for the past several minutes. Amy was doing her best to ignore the mess in her kitchen and pulling a small first aid kit from her pantry when Metal lumbered in. He slid the door closed as slowly as he could control.

“Sit. Both of you.” It was like deja-vu. She wondered if this would end as well as it did with Cream.

The three sat at Amy’s dining table. Metal watched her silently clean the cut and running blood and stick a strip of bandage over top. It was more than a scratch but the wound wasn’t deep, Amy had stopped bleeding by the time she crumpled up the packaging from the bandage. Sonic didn’t take his eyes off the robot.

Amy held a hand out toward Metal. “Give me your hand,” she instructed plainly. He looked down toward his lap guiltily. “Hey, it’s okay.” She beckoned for his hand once again and he reluctantly lifted it over the table. Amy grabbed it and wiped the partially dried blood from his fingers with some cotton dipped in alcohol, all the while Sonic stared on tensely in confusion. “You’ll end up staining something if you don’t clean your hands…” she mumbled. Metal didn’t have a response but to watch. He wanted to be grateful that she wasn’t seriously hurt or angry, but the only thing he felt was remorse. There must have been a reason he was built this way, all sharp and armed. What was he still here for? He thought it was probably time he stopped loitering around her.

...................................................

Please follow my blog for updates! Thanks again for your sweet comments, reblogs, and tags. Put my rambling in the tags if y'all are interested.❤️

#metamy #metal sonic x amy rose #metal sonic #amy rose #sth #sonic fanfiction #unfamiliar #ch. 6 #okay so as i was saying ig i put too many tags before the relevant ones #despite what anyone may think i have a masters in marketing #so it was rly bothering me lmfao #oh almost forgot #calling out mmm//asbestos for the emtal sonic brain rot preventing me from so much as focusing on a powerpoint at work #u know why #also yall hmu if u find my ref to a mountain goats song in this ch 👀#i would die for john//darnielle just thot i should put that out there #metamy unfamilair #cw blood

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nearlymanaged · 4 years

Text

9. James The Owl

It was one of those nights; the ones that mocked Sirius with the sounds of deep, steady breathing of his sleeping roommates. He had been lying in bed for hours, not a trace of sleep in his own tired eyes. Instead, he was left with bad memories that kept replaying over and over again in his head. He thought about how much had changed and wondered about how much was yet to come.

He’d always found it easy to give and receive affection - in spite of being deprived of both growing up - but on a night like this, his mind had wandered to a dark place, deep beneath his usual facade of careless charm and mischievous lovability. He wondered if he was truly capable of ever experiencing genuine love. He wondered if he deserved it, if he was too much of a Black for it.

But his train of thought came to a sudden halt, his heart nearly leaping out of his throat, when the gentle quiet of the night was shattered by a loud gasp. He sat up, fumbling with the red curtains of his bed, until he saw Remus propping himself up on his elbows.

“What’s the matter?” Sirius whispered.

“I-I hurt someone…” Moony panted, glancing around and blinking fiercely. “Is it full moon again?...”

Without thinking, Sirius pulled himself up and plopped down on the edge of Remus’ bed. This wasn’t the first night that had been interrupted by werewolf nightmares.

“We’ve still got a week left until the last full moon of this year, my love…” Sirius froze momentarily, realising what he’d just said and how effortlessly it had tumbled out of his mouth; Remus, however, didn’t seem to have noticed it. “It was just a dream.”

“It was…”

“Yes. You’ve never hurt anyone in your life,” Sirius murmured.

“Bloody hell…” Remus’ breathing was frantic still, as if he’d been running. “It seemed so real…”

As Sirius squinted at him in the dark, he could just make out his horror-stricken face. “Are you alright? Do you want some tea or something? Hot cocoa?”

“N-no, I’m fine. I just need to…” He swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “I think I just need to take a little walk.”

“Where are you going to walk to?” Sirius couldn’t keep the note of mirth out of his voice.

“To er… Maybe just down to the common room, I suppose. I just need to stretch my legs…” And with that, Moony got up and quietly walked over to the door. Before it swung shut though, Sirius grabbed his wand and followed him out.

“Are you sure you don’t need anything?” He asked again, a little louder now since they were out of their sleeping friends’ earshot.

“No… Thanks, Sirius.” Remus started pacing around the old sofas and armchairs. “Sorry I woke you up. You can go back to sleep, you know. I won’t drop dead or anything.”

“Eh, sleep’s overrated anyway.” Sirius pointed his wand at the fireplace and mumbled Incendio.

“I feel so childish,” Remus breathed out after a few minutes filled with the cozy crackling of the flames; he’d stopped in front of the fireplace, his back turned on Sirius who was now sitting on a sofa. “Having night terrors…”

“Childish? Moony, you’re quite possibly the single bravest person I know.”

“Kind of you to humour me,” he turned around. “You know many sixth years who can’t fall asleep after a nightmare?”

“You know many sixth years who turn into a werewolf every month and yet somehow remain to be the loveliest people that anyone could ever hope to know in their lives?”

Remus shuffled from one bare foot to another for a moment, his expression turning into an embarrassed smile that was threatening to melt Sirius’ heart into a puddle. Then, the black haired boy patted the seat beside him and Remus walked over and sat down, hugging his knees to his chest, while Sirius pointed his wand at a stack of folded blankets in the corner of the room and summoned one.

He watched Moony lie down on his side, resting his head on the opposite end of the sofa, then threw the blanket over him. They stayed like that for a while, quietly, without talking. Some ten minutes later, Sirius leaned over to take a look at Remus’ face.

“Are you asleep?” He breathed weakly.

“No, it’s too quiet,” Remus answered without opening his eyes.

“I can read for you.” Sirius summoned a copy of Witch Weekly that someone had left in the common room.

“You never told me you can read, Sirius!” Remus mumbled.

“Oh yes, I know all the letters. You see, I had to learn them since my parents wouldn’t read The Tales of Beedle the Bard to me.”

There was a pause filled with stifled laughter. “You just had to go there…”

“I had to,” Sirius smiled down at Remus, then opened the magazine. “Here we go: ‘How to Bewitch that special Wizard this Yuletide’!”

“Oh dear…”

“Yule Season is a mystical time of the year, blah blah blah… Hm… Okay... Offer him a mince pie with Amortentia (or a cheaper alternative) infused filling or slip a couple of drops in his egg-nog if--”

“Are you serious?” Remus sat up to peek at the magazine.

“Yes. And you’re Remus,” Sirius answered, unable to stop himself, causing the other boy to smile involuntarily and shake his head.

“That should be illegal.”

“Okay, let’s move on. Ah! Those of you who have older living relatives, ask your grandmother or your great auntie to teach you some fun, old-fashioned tricks. Once having reached an unprecedented peak of popularity in the 1900s, the Entrancing Enchantments are making a comeback. Just don’t forget to make sure the spell doesn’t wear off halfway through your date--”

“Unbelievable!”

“Alright, this is clearly not working. If only I had a copy of A History of Magic…” Sirius threw the magazine onto an armchair. “Or something you couldn’t argue with…”

“Oh, I could easily argue with A History of Magic. Don’t even get me started on The Werewolf Code of Conduct of 1637!”

“Right. I forget how much of a huge swot you are… How about I...talk about something in French, so you actually can’t argue with it?”

Silence followed the suggestion as Remus stared at him with a kind of bemusement etched in his face. Sirius felt the strongest urge to either look away from Moony’s impossibly green eyes or to kiss him. Instead, he cleared his throat. “I mean, I don’t have to…”

“No, no, that sounds nice. I forget you speak French…” Remus looked away and lied down on his side again; this time, the top of his head was no more than a couple of inches away from Sirius’ thigh, his hair brushing against it.

“D’accord, très bien. De quoi devrais-je parler?” He gazed down at the side of Moony’s face. “Je ne pense pas du tout que tu es enfantin. Je pense que tu es très fort. Je sais que ça doit être dur, je sais que ça fait mal ... Je t'ai vu passer par la transformation plusieurs fois, et ça me fait aussi mal. Mais tu voilà, si fort et si beau... J'aimerais avoir le cran de le dire en anglais. Je suis tellement attiré par toi. Pourquoi tu ne vois pas ça? Je veux vraiment t'embrasser. Merde...tu entends mon cœur battre? Il vaut peut-être mieux ne pas t'embrasser. Je pense que mon cœur pourrait exploser...”

As it turned out, Sirius found it really easy to come up with things to say. He thought he could have spent the whole night telling Remus things in French that he wished he could have said in English. But he fell silent eventually, when Remus’ breathing slowed and deepened. Sirius got himself another blanket, put his feet up on a red velvet pouffe, and slowly dozed off too; thinking about how glad he was that he could be there for Remus, how nice it was to love.

* * *

“Prongs, can you do me a favour?”

“Always.”

“Can you ask Remus if he likes me?”

“Of course. I doubt he’ll tell me though.”

“How so?”

“He won’t think I’m serious.” There was a pause, the two boys staring squarely at each other. “No pun intended.”

“None taken.” At this, they both burst out laughing.

“You know, you’d think you’d be able to figure this out on your own, seeing as he practically slept in your lap last night.”

“If only…”

“Alright. I’ll try my best, but know this - I don’t like this. I still think, if you’re going to pine and moan about it that much, you need to talk to him yourself.”

“Yes…” Sirius screwed up his face in mock gravitas. “Perhaps I should start yelling ‘go out with me’ at him all throughout the day, in the most random places all around the castle?”

“How dare you!”

It took James a few days to find the right moment to bring it up. With the approaching full moon and end of term, there always seemed to be a hundred little things to do and to worry about. He finally found himself alone with Remus after their Herbology lesson; the boy stayed back to finish pruning his Venomous Tentacula after everyone had gathered their things and left. James hung around to wait for his friend, thinking that he was unlikely to get a better opportunity to have a go at it in the next few weeks. But his luck didn’t end there - just as he was racking his brain, trying to think of what the best way to start the conversation was, Remus opened his mouth.

“Are you still hung up on Evans?”

“Ehm… S’pose you could say that. Why? Did she say anything?” He momentarily forgot that he was on a mission, excitement kindling in his stomach.

“Not to me. I don’t know, I was just wondering.

“Anyway, what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Do you fancy...anyone?” James was pacing around, mindlessly running his fingers over leaves of plants and dusty pots.

“Well that is neither here, nor there.”

“So it’s a ‘yes’?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“So a ‘no’?” James stopped and smirked at his friend; he was obviously evading the question.

“You really should stop pushing the cotton bud in when you feel resistance, James,” Remus drawled, finally finishing up with the plant and sweeping all the bits of leaves and dirt off the table.

“You have shared your biggest secret with me and you said it yourself - you told me that never for a single second did you ever feel like I started looking at you differently. So why are you so embarassed to tell me who you fancy, mate?”

“A-ha. Trick question,” Remus tapped the side of his nose, carrying a terracotta pot in his other hand. “I never said I fancy anyone at all.”

“So you don’t?”

“I don’t know, maybe that’s my biggest secret?”

“Fine. What if I told you that I know that someone fancies you?”

“I would gasp dramatically and wait for the punchline.”

“How do people think I’m an insufferable smartass?” James frowned, pouting a little.

“Don’t you have somewhere else to ask stupid questions?”

“Nah, I’m free until after lunch,” James pulled his mouth in a smug smirk.

“Perfect. It’s almost lunchtime,” Remus grabbed his bag and walked past James, tapping him on the back with a big grin. “You coming?” He glanced around at the door leading out of the greenhouse.

When James came back to the Gryffindor tower after the Quidditch practice that evening, he beckoned Sirius on his way up the stairs to their dormitory. This was the first time they could get some privacy since James had spoken to Remus, and he was eager to put a stop to Sirius unrelenting questioning as soon as possible.

“You can stop pestering me. I asked him.”

“And?” Sirius leaned towards him, his whole body eager with anticipation.

“I couldn’t figure it out,” James shrugged, pulling his shoes off.

“What do you mean? What did he say?”

“Not much at all, now that I think about it… I reckon he might be hiding something though. He didn’t give me a straight answer.”

Sirius fell backwards onto his bead, draping his wrist over his forehead and sighing dramatically. “I wonder if Evans knows something. He’s always whispering and giggling with her. Although, on second thought, I haven’t seen them together in a little bit… Hm.”

“You don’t think…” James spoke quietly now, a faint frown distorting his face. “You don’t think he likes Lily?”

“Well shit. I hope not. Ah, you’re jealous!” Sirius sat up, goggling at James gleefully once he noticed his friend’s sour expression.

“No, I’m not.”

“Maybe you should try going out with someone else. Maybe she’d even find it in herself to feel jealous then?”

“But I don’t want to go out with anyone else! I like Lily!” James explained a tad too shrilly than he meant to and Sirius wasted no time in mimicking him and making himself chuckle.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh at your misery…” He wiped his eye with a single finger. “It’s just that desperation looks hilarious on you--”

“Fuck you, Pads,” James mumbled as a mischievious smile returned to his face. “Do you think Moony likes me? Do you think he’ll want to get married? Do you think he’ll notice if I steal his clothes and sniff them at night?” Now it was his turn to tease his friend with accompanying gestures of clutching his face and fanning himself.

“It was one time! I put his T-shirt on once, by accident!” Sirius bellowed pointing a comically threatening finger at James. “I’ve seen you pick up single red hairs off furniture and rugs in the common room!”

At this, James gasped dramatically and pulled his wand out. “Don’t you dare drag sweet, beautiful Lily into this!”

“Or what, Potter?” Sirius drew his own wand out of the pocket of his jeans and flashed a devilish grin.

“Levicorpus!” James yelled at the same time as the dormitory door flung open and Remus walked in.

Everyone froze - James, with his wand held high, pointing at Sirius who now hung upside down, letting his arms dangle and his shirt bunch up around his shoulders and neck, and Remus, still in the doorway, eyeing his friends with palpable curiosity mixed with relish. The latter then became animated again, looking down at Sirius’ face as he strode over to his bedside table to grab a bottle of ink.

“Sirius, if I were you, I’d use this distraction to your advantage,” he uttered on his way out and before James could do anything, he felt himself being dragged through the air and turned upside down, his ankles held by invisible forces; both him and Sirius howling with laughter.

* * *

Remus was ready to dart out of the classroom as soon as the bell rang, but the moment he stood up, he realised both of his shoelaces had gotten untied. He bent over, mumbling to himself in mild confusion. A moment later he stood back up to find the room empty, but for the teacher. He was pleased to see that Lily wasn’t lingering around, trying to talk to him this time, but his vague smile faded when he walked out into the hallway - there she was, leaning against the wall, obviously waiting for him.

“Oh, it’s you,” he blurted and kept walking.

“What’s the matter with you?”

He didn’t bother offering a better answer than a small shrug of his shoulders. However, before he reached the end of the empty corridor, his legs zipped together out of the blue, making him topple over and hit his shoulder against the wall.

“Ouch!”

“If you won’t talk to me voluntarily then you leave me no choice.” Lily walked up to him, her wand still clutched in her hand.

Remus couldn’t help but be impressed with her for a brief moment, for she always seemed so sweet and innocent and absolutely not the type to jinx people in the hallways. Then he scowled at her. “Leg Locking Spell? Very mature.”

“Why have you been avoiding me?” Lily demanded, folding her arms over her chest.

“I haven’t.”

“Do I really look that stupid?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?”

“I thought we were friends? Did I do anything to you?”

“Hm, let me think…” Remus finally managed to regain his balance and push himself off the wall. He rapped his fingers against his chin in mock contemplation, but in all honesty, he didn’t know how to express his frustration without sounding over-dramatic and desperate. “If we’re friends, then how come you told Price to go chat Sirius up?”

Whatever the sensible way to bring it up was, this wasn’t it, he knew immediately. But at least, he could tell, Lily knew exactly what he was talking about. Her lips parted, her eyes full of surprise, but then her auburn eyebrows dipped low in a frown.

“First of all, if you must know, Marlene is not interested in Black in the least bit,” she shot him a stern look that Remus’ own mother would have been jealous of, he was sure. “She’s into girls.”

“What…” Remus gaped at her as if he had just been Confunded. “What are you talking about?”

“I would have explained to you what I’m talking about ages ago but seeing as you refused to so much as look at me for weeks, that hasn’t been exactly easy.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well… I had some suspicions and I reckoned, if I did a little test to confirm that Sirius really wasn’t interested in someone else coming onto him very strongly…”

“What?”

“I’ve heard things… And I wondered, too... And that day when you were at the hospital wing, before you both realised that I was there…” Lily continued to utter disconnected phrases as though she couldn’t see Remus’ confused face right in front of her. “But even before that… I started paying more attention and I started seeing all these little things… And I wanted to see for myself... Sirius really cares for you a lot, have you noticed?”

“Er… We’re friends, we’ve been friends for a little while, I would hope that he cares.” Remus couldn’t deny having noticed how attentive and accommodating Sirius had been acting but, surely, that was nothing out of the ordinary when you had been friends with someone for years.

“He couldn’t keep his eyes off you at the surprise party, the whole night.”

“Uh-huh…” Remus squinted at her now, wondering whether Lily was trying to play a prank on him or if someone had actually Confunded her.

“Well, he played dumb when Marlene approached him, he wouldn’t even acknowledge that she was openly flirting with him! And when has Sirius Black turned down a pretty girl asking him out?”

“Well regardless,” Remus rolled his eyes, “poor planning on your behalf, if you will allow me to be so blatant. I know for a fact that Sirius fancies someone. Do you mind?” He motioned at his legs, still glued together, and Lily waved her wand impatiently, freeing him.

“How so?” She looked as though she’d just been smacked across the face.

“I heard him talking about it to James and Peter. He even told me himself when I asked.”

“Who is then?!” She demanded, her voice going up.

“Dunno.”

“But… I really thought he fancied you…”

Remus couldn’t stop himself from emitting a bitter laugh. “Me? Where'd’you get that from?”

“Well,” Lily started slowly. “There’s rumours going around about how Sirius downright rejected three or four people that asked him out this year. Four or five, if you count Marlene… So now some people think that he must have his eye on someone specific. And, well, I thought - since he hasn’t been seen with anyone - it must be someone that he’s reluctant to make a move on...because maybe that someone is an old friend…” She trailed off, looking embarrassed now.

Remus stared at her blankly as his brain worked to process what she had just said. “Sorry, what?”

“Well… Don’t you agree that that would make sense?”

“I would, but then we’d both be wrong. This theory of yours makes Divination seem like an exact science.”

The thought of someone seriously considering this to be a plausible scenario took Remus by such surprise that he didn’t know how to react to it. It sounded as though Lily was getting carried away with it all, perhaps not considering his feelings too much. What made it worse was that there was this prickling, nagging thought in the back of his mind sometimes; a thought that maybe Sirius suspected that Remus fancied him and found it humorous. That maybe, whenever he did or said something unexpectedly flirtatious, it was meant to poke fun at him. Like that night a little while ago, when Sirius had called him ‘my love’ so casually, like a perfectly delivered punchline to a joke.

And Remus felt secretly gratified to see Lily’s abashed face. If she’d come to him with her ludicrous plan first, he’d have made her swear she wasn’t going to actually do anything. He wasn’t exactly delighted at the idea of playing these absurd games with Sirius. And, on top of that, getting someone else involved in the whole thing. But he still felt a little twinge of affection in his chest - after all, Lily seemed to have acted this way out of kindness and with good intentions.

“I thought if I…” She muttered. “I suppose I can sort of see now how this was a er, flawed plan of action…”

“Forget it. It’s fine, you interfering trout,” Remus mumbled, allowing a warm smile to stretch across his lips and Lily matched it with a significantly more guilty looking one. “I’m flattered - by the looks of it, you seem to really have believed this laughable idea of yours.”

“Honestly! I simply don’t understand why you’re so adamant that you’re categorically unlovable. You’re funny and kind and smart and attractive - yes, I said what I said - and yet, you cling to this persona of a weird outcast of a monster.”

Remus stared down at her with an amused expression; if she knew what he was, she would understand how comically accurate the last part of her statement was. “You’re only saying that because you feel bad now.” He tugged at her arm and started walking down the hallway; they were going to be late for Care of Magical Creatures.

“Oh, you’re impossible!”

“You know what, James will be overjoyed when I tell him you jinxed me.”

“Don’t you dare!”

“You’re not that different from that delinquent Potter boy after all,” Remus smirked sideways.

“This was different and you know it!”

“Different goals, perhaps. Same means of reaching them…” As they rounded the corner, Lily’s protesting squeals and Remus’ hearty laughter echoed off the stone walls.

#wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #lily evans #marauders #hogwarts #fanfic

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vaguely-gestures-to-the-void · 3 years

Text

Hindsight: My thoughts on Loki (2021)

Welcome back! Spoilers below!

I need to clarify that I watch Loki purely as an escape. I've got a biased perspective in that regard because I don’t actively try to find fault with the show, though there are definitely things I’m not so inclined to. This is more of what I noticed and think things mean and it’s something I’m doing for fun. Anyways, here's my thoughts on episode 2 my loves.

Episode 2: THE VARIANT

Pre-title scene

Miss Minutes’ monologue in the recap is different to the one last ep.

1985 Oshkosh, Wisconsin

C-20!

“Today’s guest performances” on a board. Don’t really know if it means anything tho.

The Iconic (TM) I Need A Hero scene.

Pony.

The green tent - the lair of Loki.

I know not everyone’s a fan of the lighting, but it made sense to me. They’re still in the dark about who Sylvie is.

Why does C-20 take off her helmet? For the drama?

I hope Sylvie cleaned her blade. Narnia taught me well.

The Time Samsung (I can’t remember what it’s called right now) says that the date’s 04/12/1985.

Loki’s first mission (?)

‘Volume 26’ - how many of these does Mobius have?? #giveMobiusajetski

“ONLY at your LOCAL AUTHORIZED DEALER” - subtext about the TVA being control freaks? Jet ski safety?

I googled Wake Magazine. They’re up to volume 20 from what I saw, whilst Loki is reading volume 26, so I guess that’s something

Loki and Miss Minutes lmaooo.

Behind Loki’s elbow is the taxidermy something from the last episode. Also confirms that Loki threatened Casey at Mobius’ desk lol.

The thing has an egg?? What the hell is Mobius collecting? (He’s a Harry Hart variant lmao).

There are little twitches in Miss Minnutes’ hands. That’s so cool!

The egg timer’s a nice easter egg (I’m a comedian).

Mobius! B-15! :)

Is it just me or do the minutemen look similar, but not exactly the same. Makes sense if they’re variants.

I just realised the lights are built into the ceiling. Whoops.

What’s Mobius’ favourite?

Couple of things:

The racks full of identical uniforms/ones just hung up on doors.

The music has started to pick up the pace, but not in the way we see later on in the episode.

There’s a sign saying ‘FARE THEE WELL’ on it. Google tells me that it’s ‘used to express good wishes on parting’. Dang that was some good foreshadowing!

The person that looks like Agatha is still present.

I wonder whether it was supposed to be colder or whether the weather was just like that when they filmed.

The pony’s still around.

I think B-15 certainty that “a Loki couldn’t have gotten the jump of C-20” comes from her experience with them. She constantly tries to make it clear that because she’s not a variant, she’d know Loki better than he would, which (personally) makes the revelation that she’s a variant feel more devastating.

Again with the lighting, they’re still in partial darkness, constantly moving in and out of the light. Whilst what Loki says about the variant setting a trap is true, it isn’t in the context that he says it. Sylvie whoops their asses later.

The black and red-orange flags remind me of tomb markers. It’s a stretch, ik.

B-15 only has tally marks on one side of her helmet.

Mobius has fake pockets in his suit jacket. They’re the worst.

The ticking increasing in tempo as they approach red line - great for setting up tension.

I believe that Loki uses personal space like a weapon - slowly approaching them from the front, and then going behind Mobius’ back when he wants his way. It would make anyone uncomfortable, especially on a subconscious level because there’s a threat behind you.

Or maybe it’s that I have different personal space boundaries, not everyone likes being approached from behind. Loki’s movement felt intentional at least.

Getting Mobius to physically turn his way because of that might have been very subtle manipulation?

Loki looking back and forth trying to judge their reactions lol.

I liked the music in this scene, it sets up tension for Loki’s first attempt at betraying Mobius but then doesn’t completely dismiss it when it’s resolved.

Ravonna Renslayer’s office

The music here is 18 morceaux, Op. 72, No. 2. Berceuse. 18 morceaux, Op. 72: No. 2, Berceuse (Arr. For Theremin and piano) by Clara Rockmore for anyone that’s curious. I found out through Natalie Holt’s Twitter (I think).

The score is, and always will be, perfection.

Mobius’ small talk amuses me.

“Why do you get to keep all the trophies from my cases in here, you don’t think I’d love having that roller skate?” Mobius, what about the thing on the shelf behind your desk????

Ravonna seems like she’s answered these questions before, but she has a fondness for him that makes me think they’re good friends.

Also does Ravonna have multiple complete collections of the Encyclopaedia Britannica in her office? What are those books??

“I hope it’s a double.” Me too Mobius, me too (drink responsibly).

I don’t get how people think Mobius doesn’t remember leaving the stains. It sounded like Ravonna was chiding him for a bad habit and Mobius just made up a remark, not confusion.

Although he does place the cup at a different spot to the rings.

The ship flying past in the windows is a wonderful detail.

“The variant likes to stall for time.” It's very satisfying to me how everything stays relevant. Every detail advances the plot/contributes to it.

“Look, I know you have a soft spot for broken things.”

“I don’t think so-”

“Yes you do.”

Both Mobius and Ravonna only look at the middle figure when referring to the time Keepers. Either the other two are side-lined or don’t contribute at all.

“I’ll delete him myself.” At this point in time, I think Mobius is serious. As the episode progresses, his status may have changed, especially after the Jet Ski philosophy session.

Ravonna’s sash on the peg reminds me of the ones the people talking to Casey were wearing in episode 1.

Man those doors are so cool.

Peak sitting outside the principal’s office energy.

Mobius whistles at Loki as opposed to talking to him like he does later.

Any screen shot from the following scene is pristine chaotic disaster bi Loki energy featuring tired-of-your-tomfoolery Mobius.

“Isn’t that precisely why I’m here?” This marked a change in Loki to me. Up until that point, he’d tried to use what he’d known, who he’d been by scheming his way to the Time Keepers. By admitting he wasn’t sure of his purpose, we’re back with the person at the end of the last episode. It’s very Loki to try all avenues to get what he wants, and after having his world turned upside-down a few times in a short period, maybe he just wanted the familiarity of his old tricks, who he thinks he is.

Loki tensing up and then trying to assert control again reaffirms what I just said.

Man, give Mobius a holiday after all of this. Loki really tested him, huh?

Loki definitely likes validation on some level.

TVA archives (a.k.a the Salad Scene)

I can’t believe that place really exists. The looks combined with the music are just *chef kisses*.

I’m not sure if I’m thinking of the right progression, but the music reminds me of a plagal cadence. Google examples and play it side-by-side, you’ll get what I mean, maybe someone knows what it really is?

On either side of the elevators near the Time Keeper statues are the signs TVA archives.

The symmetry pleases my goblin brain.

I believe the entire show was just flexing the skills of the Loki crew and I couldn’t be happier.

“Pretend your life depends on it. I’m gonna get a snack.” This was so funny in the trailers but Mobius is dead serious (delete him myself comment). And he couldn’t even enjoy his salad.

Love that the end of credits takes from some of the scenes in episode 2.

The archivist has neat glasses.

I want some TVA stationary y’all.

It’s that moment fam.

I can’t be the only one curious by the ‘DISPLACED by 000:000:002:162’. Is that in Units? It would explain why the time line looks slightly bendy whenever we see it, especially if Apocalypses are so frequent.

IT’S THE SALAD LADS!

Mobius is reading the magazine that Loki was looking at earlier. Jet skis are Mobius’ comfort character.

“Don’t set fire to the palace.”

Tom Hiddleston has so much energy, he can move so fast.

“Oh God.” - Mobius, Null Time Zone

“YOU.” - Casey, Null Time Zone

Casey!

No thoughts, head empty, the Salad (TM).

But seriously, people only seem to be at their tables with others that work in a similar section. Not hunters and analysts eating in tandem to me, folks.

Oh Casey. Please don’t hurt him.

Aw, Mobius’ little giggle warmed my heart. Owen Wilson’s giving me whiplash with Mobius. My heart can’t take this y’all.

79 AD Pompeii, Italy

They’re both so giddy, Your Honour, I love them.

Mobius snuck them out lol.

“Bird noises?”

“BE FREE MY HORNED FRIENDS, BE FREE!” The post wouldn’t be complete without this.

Loki just throwing food at people and telling them “...enjoy your last meal while you can” is top tier comedy to me.

This is the first time we see Loki openly say nothing matters. I feel like the case file on the destruction of Asgard really pushed him to treat fate as unchangeable.

LXXIX is 79. Nice one Loki crew!

Mobius’ eye twitching as he checks the variance is a nice touch.

Loki throws away the stick that was holding the goat pen closed at the end.

TVA Archives, TVA cafeteria

Mobius picked up those files so smoothly I had to re-watch it.

Their position reflected what they were talking about - when Loki thinks it’s his individual contribution, he’s walking separately to Mobius, but they meet up when working together. I loved the blocking in that little moment.

I seriously thought that Loki was unconscious when I first saw him asleep around Mobius. I’ll admit it, it felt out-of-character for someone with such bad trust issues. Both of them seem pretty tired tho.

It’s the Jet Ski conversation comrades!

I’m beaming. Mobius talking about Jet Skis was the only time I’ve really remembered it’s Owen Wilson talking. It’s such a fun line to think about!

Loki’s smile. Adorable.

Just go watch the scene, it’ll give you good brain juices.

Mobius does it all for the Jet Skis and nothing else. I don’t make the rules, the Time Keepers do.

“My own glorious purpose.” This is a recurring theme in the season. Ultimately, I think that Loki is going to run for as long as it brings in money/until Loki gets killed again. However, I do like to think that in following seasons we’ll move beyond setting up Phase 4 Marvel stuff and just get deep dives into Loki’s character, though it may happen in the later eps or not be as interesting. Part of what made this show so interesting is the new setting in the Marvel universe but it’s hard to make predictions as to whether it will last in a show featuring the God of Mischief. Whatever happens, I’m happy that we got to see Loki’s existential crisis together, lads.

The music picks up, signalling that this quiet moment is about to end.

“No one bad is ever truly bad. And no one good is every truly good.”

“Scared little boy.”

These lines mean a lot to me. Loki perceives Mobius as an equal, similar to himself but not completely identical. The TVA’s whole aesthetic is Kafkaesque (Disney+ used that word), the imperfections keeping the place from looking mechanical and orderly like what the TVA promotes itself to be. Loki wants Mobius to acknowledge it, but Mobius is in the past, not addressing what’s right in front of him, surrounding him. That’s probably because Mobius doesn’t believe, he accepts what he’s been told though Loki wants to change that. He’s still focused on his job, the variant. I don’t think Mobius will struggle against change in the ‘belief’ part as long as things are rational.

Kate Herron (director) said that the Kablooie scene was improv which makes me wish we had more B roll of Owen and Tom. They seem so professional, invested and fun on set.

“No wonder you’re so bitter.” I’m sorry Mobius you sound as salty as your salad.

‘Artificially flavoured chewing gum’ Has something happened causing artificial flavouring to be preferred?

‘Blue’ has canonically changed to ‘Bloo’ by 2050 in America in the MCU. I blame capitalism.

Why does Mobius look so tiny? I say that like Owen Wilson wouldn’t look like a giant next to me lol.

Owen Wilson is 3.5 inches (9 centimetres) shorter than Tom Hiddleston. Yet he is dwarfed as Mobius. I need to stop talking about this and move on.

There’s no ‘variance energy detected’ line in the report.

“You’re gonna take my job if I’m not careful.” Loki looks so chuffed.

One day, I’ll properly address my thoughts on the shipping. Until then, I just want no one to die.

“Yeah, he’s doing great.” Mobius is so hyped. Good for him.

Owen Wilson has dimples.

Ravonna’s screen doesn’t show the timeline like it does later.

Ravonna is the done mom friend. Sane, undeserving of this, please give her a jet ski moment.

Buckle up folks because the last twenty minutes of this episode are my favourite so far.

At 34 minutes in, we get the music fading in with “Okay. But Mobius...” and a transition to my favourite composition so far. Natalie Holt outdid herself. The soundtrack is nearly constant, there’s no break for a moment of clarity anymore. The progression of events is inevitable, tying the bow on a plot line created in an hour and a half. The little embellishment from the strings (possibly) as Mobius and Loki exit is perfect. Combined with Loki’s raised fist leading to a pan to the ceiling, it prepared the audience for everything being turned upside down.

The changing camera angles and shot lengths (the continuous shot when B-15 takes the knives, the circling behind as the briefing occurs) keep viewers on their toes. The continuous shot is fluid, B-15 doesn’t look at Loki or Mobius, her reaction is natural and that just proves that the timing on that scene was impeccable. The circling behind reminded me of Loki positioning himself behind Mobius as he did earlier, but now he’s on the same side, part of the team though he continues to distinguish between himself and the variant. The building sensation that change is coming is met by the incredible swell in the music as we watch the picturesque Haven Hills get destroyed by modern technology and face the terrifying reality that is the Roxxcart store. There’s a close up on the Roxxcart storefront with school buses with the words ‘Evacuation shuttle’ in the background as we see the TVA’s minutemen come out reinforcing that even when the end is nigh, large corporations will loom over. A storm is raging with worse to come. I can go on and on, but you get the point.

2050 Roxxcart Disaster

I love that y’all are calling this the Alabama supermarket breakup. Makes me chuckle, that’s for sure.

I too hate when people can hear my footsteps. Someone that gets the struggle.

Sylvie places the TVA Samsung over a Roxxcart Security manual. She’s overridden both and is in control.

The date is 03/15/2050.

I think that the way the Hunters and minutemen hold their baton things is so that they don’t get yeeted. Neat.

As always, the beats are slick yo.

I hope the Azaleas guy gets some Azaleas wherever he ended up.

I love the way Loki says “In this storm.” It’s so satisfying for no real reason.

The wonderful Wunmi Mosaku does not get the recognition she deserves for this scene. She switched from B-15 to Sylvie so effortlessly. They’re two distinct characters, her facial expressions, body language everything changed in that instant. Even from the one line, “No, they usually survive,” her delivery had changed in a way that was noticeable. It’s uncanny, exactly what was needed when facing a foe that remained unseen. And the smile? It’s before we know the variant as Sylvie, so naturally it’s that signature Loki smile with a hint of malice we associate with the variant. Damn y’all, Wunmi’s incredible! I really hope she’s recognised for being so talented in this series, if not in all her other work!

Mobius really cares about those people. I really want his redemption (?) arc.

It’s been pointed out that even in those conditions, Roxxcart were selling blankets and water. I think it means that by 2050, cash would be defunct. If only electronic payment existed, as long as there’s electricity they can run a business. Chew on that.

If the man they speak to is 50 to 60, he was a 90s kid.

There must be a difference in the reprogramming or kind of variant selected to be a hunter as compared to an analyst. The Hunters look after their own, but the analysts (or Mobius) go as far as empathising with variants.

C-20 is sitting in front of safety standards.

“A bit amateurish.” Loki knows that the variant isn’t as skilled with magic as he is.

As Loki and the possessed people walk, the lighting becomes brighter. He’s moving out of the shadows.

Me too Loki, I’m worried about B-15 too.

Sylvie unironically saying bless is hilarious.

Randy must be hella tall.

There’s a low angle shot as Loki and Randy face off with the flickering light above with a sign hanging above them like a sword of Damocles and a physical separation. Terror is nearly constant in Loki's life now, but he responds by letting go of his drive to survive.

The subtle swells in the music just add to my rising blood pressure.

C-20’s voice over is sad lads.

“I wanna go home,” we know she’s not referring to the TVA.

Mobius seems like a caring person.

When B-15 sits up and searches the room, I think it’s her realisation. Her shiver was from fear and shock, the music wasn’t about her not seeing Loki, it was about the TVA and what had happened to her.

The head snap and the score timing matching. So satisfying.

“I would never treat me like this. Hi.” I think that’s Loki realising that his foe is not willing to talk their way through conflict.

This fight scene contradicts all the magic we see later ik, but if he didn’t want to hurt anyone and was trying to draw out the real enemy it made sense.

Some of Sylvie’s powers must come into the people she possesses. The guy punched a glass screen and didn’t even bleed.

“I have shit to do.” Sylvie wasn’t raised with court etiquette (from what we know) and her lexical choice reflects that.

Dell computers survive into 2050 in the MCU. So do those robot dogs and Roombas. I am only happy about the Roombas. Where did the real dogs go? :(

“Mobius.”

“Where is he?”

“I lost him.”

“What happened?”

“I...”

Until now, B-15’s delivery has felt slightly rhythmic, like she was used to having the same arguments, particularly with Mobius. When she trails off however, I think it’s her trying to rationalise what she’s been through with Sylvie’s possession. Her devotion to the TVA was rooted in the fact that she wasn’t a variant, her life had a purpose and it was intentional. This must have rocked her, I’m invested in where she’ll go.

THE CUT TO BLACK OH GOOD GOSH.

Sylvie, my queen. I’d roll off a cliff for her.

The person with the moustache (you know the one) has pure fear on his face.

Ravonna knows what’s up.

And so do you, yes it’s the music, go listen to it.

THE RED LIGHTING

The zoom out to that incredible hallway shot and then stopping behind the time door. It was never about him after all, he was in the background of her plans.

Sylvie’s wave in Roxxcart vs. Loki’s on the train. Discuss.

The blackout, thunder and Loki’s pause under the flickering red and white light, do y’all really want me to talk about the s y m b o l i s m????

He’s conflicted, you know it, I know it, Mobius knows it.

Speaking of Mobius, there he is, we cut back to Loki and see him make his decision, zooming back in on him.

And with that final flourish in the score, we are done with episode 2!

Cue the most amazing end credits score you’ll ever hear.

Do yourself a favour, listen to all of it, including the part after the main credits, both are Works. Of. Art.

Ep 2 review

In case you didn’t notice, this is my favourite episode so far. There are parts I didn’t take to as much, but details from the previous episode being used in the plot as well as others being explained by Sylvie in episode 3. Rewatching it was easier than episode 1 though it left me wanting more. It will get more interesting from here, but until then, that was a fun romp.

See y'all next time. I hope whoever's reading this has a wonderful day!

Part 1, Episode 1 extend review link:

#spoilers #loki review #Loki spoilers #my respect for people that write scripts/analysis of any kind has increased immensely.#opinion #things i've noticed #sorry if they're not original #b-15 deserves love #the analysts (mobius) the hunters the minutemen casey every one of them deserves love #here's to everyone who worked so hard and put so much into this series #WUNMI MOSAKU IS AMAZING #I love Ravonna #It's great

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gingrrfrog · 4 years

Text

these nights (1)

pairing: jung jaehyun x oc (kim jihyun)

genre: implied smut, fluff??, mafia boss jaehyun hehehe

word count: 5.9k

warnings: none, I don’t think

summary: the day before jaehyun goes off to find jeno and jaemin. jaehyun only wants do protect those he loves.

a/n: yes this is related to my jeno sharpshooter fic that you can find here 🥺👉🏼👈🏼

masterlist :]

Jihyun stared at her plate—almost empty as she glanced at the hallway. Jaehyun had received a call from his office not too long before she finished cooking dinner, making said man sigh heavily and look at his fiancee with an apologetic grimace. He reassured her that it wouldn’t take long and that he would be out in a minute, pleading that she would go ahead and eat without him while he took the call. However, that was forty five minutes ago and Jihyun was beginning to get nervous. She played with the few remaining pasta noodles, saving them for when he would come back but as the clock ticked in the corner she could only pick at her fingernails. Finally, after an hour and fifteen minutes, said man appeared from the office at the very back of their house, appearing from the hallway and giving Jihyun a smile, but it wasn’t enough to convince her judging by the way his jaw was set.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to her temple before rubbing her shoulders. “I let dinner get cold.”

“Don’t worry about that, I’m more concerned about you,” Jihyun grimaced, squeezing his bicep before pulling him down to take a seat in the chair next to her. “Who was on the phone?”

“It was Johnny hyung.”

“Is everything alright? It’s not everyday he calls you for an hour—especially not on your office phone and especially not during dinner time.”

Jaehyun sighed deeply before running his fingers through her hair, smiling gently before running his thumb under her eye. “I can’t say too much yet. I also don’t want you to worry about me, you already have to worry about your restaurant.”

“Just because I have my restaurant doesn’t mean I can’t be worried about you, Yoonoh,” Jihyun frowned deeply. She heard talk days ago from Jaemin when he thought she wasn’t listening, and by the little bit she heard, it didn’t sound great. In fact, it worried her even more to know that there might be someone undercover beneath their noses.

“I know, I know—but you have more important things to worry about, no?” He challenged her frown with a bright smile, taking the same hand that was on her cheek and moving it towards her belly, rubbing the growing bump that seemed to get bigger everyday. Jihyun could only roll her eyes at his statement, taking his hand and interlocking their fingers.

“Are you still going to be fine to come with me tomorrow?”

“I should be. I have to see Jeno and Jaemin right after, if that’s alright. Afterwards, we can go get some dinner.”

“There’s supposed to be a snow storm tomorrow night.”

Jaehyun pressed his lips together, showcasing the dimples she so adored, “then, we’ll get something to-go, and we can watch a movie here at home.”

Jihyun’s frown slowly relaxed as she took a deep breath, taking their intertwined fingers and kissing his wrist, “Yoonoh, whatever you’re planning in your head, make sure that every outcome of every plan is you coming back home to me in one piece.”

Jihyun said this line often, but it was often put in between giggles and playful scorning. But after hearing information Jihyun wished she hadn’t heard, she said it with sincerity and Jaehyun could tell. He picked up the concern and her hands in his, kissing her knuckles. “Always, baby. Always.”

The next morning, Jaehyun woke before Jihyun did, his head pounding from the headache the night before and the stress accumulating in the back of his head. He opened his eyes and glared at the bleary clouds that threatened to cover the roads in the next few hours. He sighed and felt the warmth from his fiancee as her arms were wrapped around his waist, her face pressed against his shoulder blade as she snored quietly. Jaehyun laughed and felt the tension rise from his shoulders only to be slammed once again.

Twenty-seven years old and here he was, no longer a street kid but now taking over the business his late father had left behind. At twenty-seven, his father had been in the same position, aimlessly looking for guidance from the business his father left him, with a random prostitute in his bed pregnant with him—forcing himself to marry this random prostitute only to marry another, bearing another two sons before divorcing her as well.

Jaehyun liked to think he broke the cycle in that regard. He turned so that Jihyun was pressed now against his chest, her snoring coming to halt as she breathed softly against his chest, her hands taking the fabric of his shirt in her hands. Jihyun was nothing like his mother, not a drug addicted prostitute that barely weaned off her coke addiction to give birth to a semi-healthy but still premature Jaehyun. Jihyun…his Jihyun…she was smart, she was firm and able, beautiful as she was powerful. In less words, Jihyun was and always will be the love of his life, in this life and in every reincarnation the universe makes, he will always find her. He would give her everything he was to see her laugh and even more to make sure she was safe.

However, with the addition of their newest family member, Jaehyun feared being incompetent as a boss and a father. You can be a bad man but a good father, was the last thing Jaehyun’s father told him before he died and it stuck with him since. But Jaehyun didn’t want to be a bad man. He wanted, more than anything, to be good. Unfortunately, however, those options were never in his favor.

“I can hear you overthinking,” Jihyun mumbled against his chest, her hand moving to his racing heart. “Whatever you’re thinking about, it can wait for after breakfast.”

Almost on command, Jaehyun felt his heart settle at the sound of his fiancee’s voice and her soothing touch—almost as if she really did own his heart. For all metaphoric purposes, she did.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Mm. Bean was kicking all night, they’re excited for us to find out.” Jihyun gave a tired smile before supporting her weight on an elbow to give Jaehyun a kiss. “Other than that, I slept pretty well. What about you?”

“I slept, but I didn’t rest.”

Jihyun snorted and rolled her eyes, “that’s such an old man thing to say, baby.”

“My dad used to say that,” Jaehyun smiled. “I never understood, but nowadays, I feel like I know exactly what he was talking about.”

Jihyun leaned in for another kiss before slapping his chest, “well, when you wake up seven times to pee at night, let me know how that quote changes for you.”

Jaehyun laughed, squeezing her hand as she began to lift herself up from bed. “I told you we can get rubber sheets and you can pee all you want in bed.”

Jihyun gagged from their shared bathroom, “as endearing that is, Jae, I’m going to pass. Thank you.”

The two shared a quick breakfast of eggs, potatoes, and a toast before heading out into freezing temperatures. The door was held open by their housemaid, who begged the two to be careful with the upcoming traffic that would be frantic people going in to buy groceries. Jihyun smiled and reassured her that they would be fine, and that if it would be alright for the fireplace to be lit when they returned. The housemaid smiled and agreed, biding the two goodbye as the small elderly woman became a dot in Jaehyun’s rearview mirror.

Jaehyun was a beam of light—nearly bouncing in his seat as he stared at the ultrasound photos in his hands, his smile reaching from ear to ear, “it’s a girl.“

“Yeah, yeah, I know—you don’t have to rub it in,” Jihyun playfully sighed, not resisting the endearment that came with Jaehyun’s excitement. She laughed when Jaehyun pulled her in for a kiss, deeper than other they’ve shared today.

“I love you. I love you so much, do you know that?”

Jihyun smiled widely and playfully bit at his nose, “I know. I love you more.”

“I’m willing to argue that.”

“You’ll still lose to me”

Before Jaehyun could argue any more, his phone rang in his pocket and he could see that it was Johnny updating him on Jeno and Jaemin’s location.

“Shooting range? Renjun?” Jaehyun’s eyebrows furrowed, “who told them that—did you tell Kun hyung?”

Jihyun watched Jaehyun’s ears turn red before he scratched the back of his head. “Okay. Is there anything else Kun hyung is doing without my permission?”

Jaehyun glanced over at Jihyun, who could only give him a slight smile and a squeeze to his shoulder, a silent reminder to relax. Jaehyun took a deep breath and blinked, “I’ll talk to him tomorrow. I’ll talk to Renjun later on today after I see Jeno and Jaemin.”

“Yes, hyung. Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jaehyun hung up the phone and rested his head against the car seat, using his fingertips to rub his temples, “okay. now that that’s over with.”

“Is Renjun visiting?”

“Restock apparently,” Jaehyun squeezes his eyes shut before putting the car in reverse and back out of the parking lot and into the highway. “Kun hyung gave him permission after Johnny gave him word.”

“Renjun is only doing what he was told, baby.”

“I know, I know,” Jaehyun sighed heavily. “This is why I don't tell Kun hyung anything until everything is set. He overreacts. Jeno doesn’t need a fucking restock of anything.”

Jaehyun liked to keep Jihyun out of the business as much as he could, however, she knew that Kun was the head of the Chinese branch and that Renjun was one of his trusted captains in charge of weapon distribution. Jihyun didn’t even want to know the information given to Kun for him to think new guns were appropriate.

Especially for Jeno, a nymphomaniac for guns.

“They’re at the shooting range, it’s a bit of ways from home. Do you want me to take you home?”

“No, I want to go. I haven’t seen Jeno or Jaemin in a while,” Jihyun smiles lightly. The last thing she wanted to do was leave Jaehyun alone in his thoughts. “Do you think their girlfriend will be there? She’s really nice, what’s her name again?”

“Angel.”

“Is that her real name?”

Jaehyun shrugged, “that’s what they call her. I’ve never heard them call her anything else before.”

“That’s a fitting name. I guess we have to start looking for names soon, huh?” Jihyun asked. Her main goal was to keep him from overthinking, as it was causing his headaches to appear frequently. Judging by the way his shoulders dropped slightly, it worked.

“The name book is in the back, we haven’t taken it out yet.”

“We didn’t have a reason to look at it yet, but I like Hyerim.”

Jaehyun scrunched his nose and gave Jihyun a smile, “maybe we should look for more in the book.”

Jihyun laughed and took his fingertips in her hands, kissing them slightly before intertwining them together.

“Jihyunie?”

“Yes, baby?”

“After this, do you just want to go ahead and get married?” Jaehyun asked sincerely. They were stopped at a red light and Jaehyun was looking directly at her.

“Like, a courthouse wedding?”

“Yeah. We can have a massive wedding in a year if you want to continue with that plan. But I don’t want to wait any longer.”

Jihyun’s stomach churned and she wasn’t sure if it was the baby or her sudden suspicion. Regardless, she gave him a big smile and nodded, “of course.”

Jaehyun smiled widely before taking her cold hands into his, pressing his lips on her engagement ring before keeping her hand close. The rest of the car ride was relatively silent, save for the music on the radio and the sounds of the cars passing them by. There was idle chit chat here and there, considering the ride to the gun range was too long to keep complete silence. Eventually, Jaehyun made it to the secluded area and parked the car, looking at Jihyun and squeezing her shoulder.

“I’ll be right back—it won’t take too long—“

Jihyun frowned, “wait, I wanted to go with you. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Jeno, Jaemin, and Angel.”

Jaehyun snorted, “you’re not going to miss anything. Not to mention, look at all the ice that hasn’t melted yet, baby. If you trip and fall I’ll feel awful.”

Jihyun rolled her eyes and opened the door anyway, “I’ll be fine, Yoonoh. I’m not made out of glass.”

Jaehyun decided he wouldn’t be able to argue with her anymore and instead followed her out the door, making sure that his arm was hooked with hers in order to avoid any mishaps. There was quite a bit of ice from the last winter storm that Jihyun hadn’t calculated, but she told herself she’d be fine so long as she stayed close to Jaehyun’s side and paid extra attention to the ground. The issue with the shooting range was that there were extra cobblestone steps in order to reach the lower level of the shooting range. Jaehyun glanced over to Jihyun and she gave him a smile, not long before slipping and landing softly on her rear end, thanks to Jaehyun’s quick reaction.

“Yeah, no. That’s not happening.” Jaehyun said suddenly, pulling Jihyun firmly back towards the car so that she wouldn’t have to go down the steps.

“I’m fine—Jaehyun, I slipped only a little bit!” She defended, but it didn’t help that her fiancé actually decided to use some of his strength to pull her back into the car. Jaehyun opened the door and stepped aside for her to get inside but Jihyun only crossed her arms and glared at the man in front of her. He took a deep breath and nodded towards the car door.

“Please.”

“No.”

Jaehyun sighed and slouched in the seat himself, taking Jihyun’s hand and gently pulling her close. With her bottom lip jutting out, Jaehyun pulled her in for a small kiss before rubbing her arms, “humor me just this once, baby.”

“I humor you with everything, Jaehyun. You treat me like I’m going to break and I’m not even all that pregnant yet,” Jihyun scoffed. “I’m not going to fucking die if I slip on some ice or if I work a few extra hours. I’m especially not going to die if you just tell me what’s going on. You can’t just getting this cryptic fucking phone calls and expect me not to worry about it.”

“Goddammit—“ Jihyun huffed in frustration when tears spilled over. She was rarely the one to cry but recently, everything makes her so angry.

She sniffled against Jaehyun’s chest when he stood up from the car seat and pulled her into an embrace, pressing his lips into the crown of her hair. He mumbled an apology before squeezing her ever so slightly—pulling away and brushing hairs from her face.

“Can I be honest with you?”

“It’s all I want,” Jihyun sniffed, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“I’m terrified,” Jaehyun smiled when his fiancee finally looked up at him. “Of the baby, of you getting hurt, of the work I do, of being a father—of everything. I haven’t been able to fucking sleep in three days.”

Jaehyun moved his hand to her stomach, his strong hands rubbing small circles as he grimaces. “I don’t want you to think that I’m regretting any of this—because this…you…are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. But, I can’t feel as excited about being a father or being your husband when I truly have no idea if you’ll see me tomorrow.”

“I know I promise that I’ll come home to you every night but it’s getting hard, more so now, to look you in the eye and promise you that. I didn’t want you to panic because of course I went through a wikipedia hole and read everything that could go wrong with the baby,” Jaehyun snorted, scratching his head as his hands returned to lay on Jihyun’s neck. “I’m sorry I’m being overprotective, I’m sorry I’m being overbearing, but if there’s something I can control it’s what I expose you to. I want to make sure that you’re safe.”

Jihyun sighed and wrapped her arms around his waist again, “why did you wait until just now to tell me?”

“Because I’m a fucking idiot,” Jaehyun smiled. Jihyun snorted and took her turn to take Jaehyun’s face in her hands.

“You don’t have to worry about me, it freaks me out that you put all this pressure on your shoulders, baby. I know it’s scary I know it’s getting serious these days, but,” Jihyun caressed the gray hairs that were beginning to poke from the side of his head, “I don’t want you to kill yourself over it.”

Jaehyun grimaced, his dimples poking through in uncertainty as she moved her hand to his cheek, to which he leaned against not long before pressing a kiss to her wrist, “I know.”

“We’ll talk about this more at home, okay? I’ll stay in the car this time because you were right, this time. It’s really fucking icy out there.”

Jaehyun laughed and kissed her sweetly, “thank you. I’ll tell Jeno and Jaem to visit you sometime soon if you miss them that much.”

“Christmas is coming soon enough, I’ll see them then. Do what you have to do, Yoonoh. I’ll be right here.”

“I won’t be long.”

“Mm—is the baby name book still here? I’m going to look over it.”

“It should be in the back, I’ll get it for you before I leave but, I don’t think I mind the name Hyerim anymore.”

---

Jihyun shivered as she entered the threshold of their home, smiling warmly at the housemaid before handing her coat towards her, Jaehyun not far behind as he follows her towards the living room. Jaehyun insisted for their housemaid to go home for the day, he’d feel awful if she was hurt from the snow. The snow was just beginning to fall when they arrived and their housemaid happily agreed and said she would be around tomorrow—only for Jihyun to assure she would be fine if she didn’t happen to come. Without another word, their housemaid smiled and left quickly before the snow continued.

Jihyun ordered food while Jaehyun started the fireplace in front of them, sighing once he falls against the couch and swings an arm behind Jihyun’s shoulder, the latter cuddling into his shoulder watching the fire crackle.

“I suppose now is a better time to tell you what’s going on, hm?” Jaehyun started, laying his head against hers,

“You don’t have to do it right now, we’re cuddling.”

“What better way to tell you dangerous information than when we’re cuddling,” Jaehyun chuckled softly, although Jihyun couldn’t return the sentiment.

“Where do you want me to start?”

“I guess last month when Jaemin barged in—that’s a good start,” Jihyun turned beet red at the memory of Jaemin barging into their home while Jaehyun was under the covers.

“I still need to repay you for that don’t I?” Jaehyun asked playfully, biting her ear and chuckling when Jihyun scoffed and shoved him.

“That’s not what I want to hear right now, stop trying to distract me.”

“Fine, fine,” Jaehyun sighed and scratched the back of his head. “I know that you know Jaemin is technically in charge of logistics, of money, of strategies, basically the boring things that Johnny hyung and I can’t be bothered with.”

“Way to belittle your brother’s role,” Jihyun smiled.

“--anyway, I don’t think you know that Jaemin is technically under Jeno’s command. I go through Jeno and Jeno goes to Jaemin, and whatever needs to be said to our workers come from Jaemin.”

“Alright, what do these hierarchical issues have to do with him barging into our home?”

“I’m getting there! You’re so impatient,” Jaehyun rolled his eyes. “We have plans of expanding into something legit, it should take a while. But, the only people that know about it are Jeno, Johnny hyung, Mark, and I. Jaemin knows bits and pieces from what I’m assuming Jeno told him and at the time, we were looking into buying a lot for production.”

Jaehyun sighed, “someone slipped. Someone leaked to the feds and it was Jaemin who told me that at least forty of our guys were shot on spot the day before we got there.”

Jihyun whipped her head around to glare at Jaehyun, “what do you mean shot on spot?! Yoonoh, they can’t just do that they have to process them or something--”

“The feds don’t care about workers, baby,” Jaehyun grimaced. “To them, they’re nobody, they don’t have access to any information we have so they’re useless. But, we were planning to go that day but Johnny hyung’s daughter broke her arm and we rescheduled.”

“Which means?”

“Simply put, there’s a rat. There’s a rat somewhere in between Johnny hyung, Jeno, Mark, and I.”

“Do...you have any suspicions?”

Jaehyun shook his head, “I thought it was Jeno at first. There was no reason Jaemin would know anything about future plans. But, Jeno was the first to come up to me and apologize for telling Jaemin. In a way, I’m glad that he did tell him, or else I wouldn’t be here.”

Jihyun’s stomach churned as she curled closer to her fiance. If Johnny’s daughter hadn’t slipped on her skiis and broken her arm, he’d be dead along with Mark and Jaehyun. Jihyun took a shaky deep breath and held the knitted throw closer to her body.

“Then, today? What did you go see Jeno for?”

“We...sort of have a lead on who might’ve said something. Jeno is in charge of cleaning that up tomorrow. He’ll be here tomorrow morning for a debriefing with Johnny hyung and I. Jaemin will be here later on for supervision.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No baby, you don’t have to go anywhere. We’ll just be in the west wing the whole day.”

Jihyun grimaced--Jaehyun being isolated in the west wing was the same as being left alone all day. She ate alone, she slept alone, the only time she would see Jaehyun is when it was over and he always looked exhausted, barely speaking any words before he would collapse in bed.

“What about their girlfriend?”

“Whose?”

“Jeno and Jaemin’s,” Jihyun started. “They...that’s...their girlfriend, right?”

Jaehyun snorted and shrugged, “your guess is as good as mine. I don’t care to find out how that dynamic works.”

“Don’t be mean--I think it’s nice they have each other.”

“Oh, I’m sure Angel thinks it’s nice too, don’t worry,” Jaehyun grinned, earning himself a slap on his shoulder.

“Stop it! I’m asking because I’m wondering what she’s gonna do? She’s going to be all alone for three days...not to mention, I don’t know her as well.”

“Mm, what are you implying?”

“Maybe I could go stay with her for a night, you know?”

“It’s going to be dangerous for you to drive tomorrow, baby.”

“I’ll take the BMW.”

Jaehyun squinted, “that wasn’t me asking for alternatives.”

Jihyun blinked and tilted her head to the side, “are you...telling me no?”

Just then, there’s a knock at the door and Jaehyun removed his arm from her shoulders, “hold on. We’ll talk about this later.”

Jihyun rolled her eyes and wrapped herself in the blanket further until Jaehyun returned with their takeout, shuffling towards her and putting the chicken on the coffee table.

“Why do you want to go see Angel so bad?”

Jihyun relocated to the floor as she took chopsticks and began picking at the drumstick her fiance served her, “I told you, she’s the only one I haven’t met yet. Well, I’ve met her, but I don’t know anything about her.”

“You haven’t met Johnny’s new wife yet.”

“That’s because she’s fucking rude,”

Jaehyun laughed, “yeah. She’s kind of a dick.”

“But I’ve talked to Angel a few times, and she’s really nice. Not to mention, I don’t think her real name is Angel.”

“It probably isn’t. But she wasn’t born in Korea, so it was probably her American name.”

“Either way, I want to get to know her. It’s lonely being the only wife.”

Jaehyun rolled his eyes, “if I didn’t know any better it sounds like you’re trying to assert your dominance.”

“It’s a little bit of that too.”

“Well, I appreciate you being honest with me at least.”

“So,” Jihyun lifted her gaze, “can I?”

Jaehyun took a deep breath before looking at his phone, “I’ll tell you what. I have to call Renjun right now and Kun hyung later. After that, I’ll run it past Jeno and Jaemin if it’s okay and when Johnny goes to pick up Jaemin tomorrow morning he’ll take the BMW and you’ll go with him. Alright?”

Jihyun beamed and leaned over to kiss Jaehyun sweetly, “thank you for understanding.”

Jaehyun hummed and returned her kiss with a roll of his eyes, “sure, sure. Keep eating, I’ll be a while.”

Jihyun nodded and continued to chew her food as she watched Jaehyun get up from the floor and walk towards the west wing. She heard his voice fade into the hallway as she turned on the TV to keep her company until she finished her meal. When she wasn’t feeling as hungry she moved the leftovers back in the box and carefully stood up to place it on the kitchen counter.

It seemed that Jaehyun would still be on the phone for a little longer so Jihyun decided to move towards their bedroom and get ready to end the night. She turned the humidified on before entering the bathroom, taking off her rings and jewelry before walking towards the shower, letting it steam up before entering, allowing the hot water to soothe her pregnancy aches. As she finished washing the last bits of shampoo out of her hair, she allowed herself to dry off before she continued her skin routine--to which Jaehyun has the pleasure of observing.

She smiled at him in the mirror and beamed when he pressed a kiss to her cheek, squeezing her rear end before wrapping his arms around her waist.

“Do you need help drying your hair?”

“I would love it if you’d help me,” Jihyun smiled, taking out the hair dryer and continued to massage her face as Jaehyun softly runs the brush through her hair. Once he deemed Jihyun’s hair dry enough, he runs a comb through it once more before giving a small laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“Now that we know that we’re having a girl, I should probably put some extra effort into learning how to do some hairstyles.”

“Bold of you to assume you’re going to be waking up to take her to school.” Jihyun teased, watching Jaehyun scrunch his nose.

“I’ll try,” Jaehyun defended. “That’s more than most people can say.”

“I guess that’s true,” Jihyun yawned. After finishing her last serum, she stretched her arms out and felt Jaehyun’s thumbs press at her hips, relieving the pressure that always seemed to camp there. With a moan, she leaned against Jaehyun’s chest, sighing as he chuckled in her ear.

“If I recall, this is how you got pregnant.”

Jihyun laughed and pinched his thigh, “asshole. I’m not falling into your back massage tricks anymore.”

Jaehyun hummed and pressed his lips to the side of her neck, playfully nipping as Jihyun squealed and playfully shoved him, “I bet I could try.”

“I’m sleepy, Jae,” Jihyun whined, placing her hand on top of his as it moved towards the front of her pajama.

“I’ll take care of you,” Jaehyun sighed, turning Jihyun around and kissing her softly. “You know I always do.”

Jihyun returned his kisses with the same amount of fervor, slightly annoyed that she was always so eager and pliant whenever he kissed her. Curse her hormones, they were the main reason why a quickie didn’t sound so bad.

“You have to be up early tomorrow, Yoonoh.”

“Mmm, I know, but that doesn’t mean I can’t take care of you.”

“I can take care of you too, y’know? It doesn’t have to be me on the receiving end all the time,” Jihyun smiled. She turned around and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I thought you were tired,” Jaehyun grinned.

With a roll of her eyes, she pulled at Jaehyun’s waistband, “do you want your dick sucked or not, Jaehyun?”

At four thirty--Jaehyun felt his eyes peel open at the sound of his alarm clock, watching as Kihyun shuffled at the sound. Slowly, she lifted her head up from the bed, sitting up and blinking at her fiance as she struggled to wake up. Jaehyun laughed before pulling her for a kiss after sitting up himself, pressing a small kiss on her belly before tucking messy strands of hair behind her ear.

“Did you sleep well?”

Jihyun shrugged, “baby makes me a light sleeper.”

“Go back to sleep, baby. I’ll wake you up when it’s time for you to get ready.”

“Wanna get ready now though…” Jihyun mumbled before being pushed by her doting lover back into her pillow as the same man threw the blankets over her body, instantly falling victim to sleep. “...mm...fuck you.”

Jaehyun chuckled before pressing a kiss to her forehead, “argue with me when you’re awake again.”

Shortly after, he slid out of bed and continued his routine of a quick shower and a quick shave, getting dressed as he began his way towards the west wing. Entering his office, he overlooked the paperwork he laid out for himself the night before, munching on the toast he made himself as he flipped through the pages of his information packets Johnny emailed him last night. He glanced at his watch and noticed that Johnny and Jeno would be here shortly.

Almost on cue, the doorbell rang and Jaehyun quickly shuffled towards the door so that whoever was behind the door wouldn’t ring it twice. However, Johnny knew better as it was revealed that it was him behind the door with Jeno next to him. They shared quick greetings as they walked towards his office, sitting in their designated seats as Jeno eagerly began to look over the information packet.

“Everything that’s in there is what I’ve already told you,” Jaehyun explained. “If anything, these packets are more for Jaemin--just to catch him up on what’s going on.”

“Jeno, today is not shoot to kill, do you understand?” Johnny warned, “today is information gathering. You’re going with Mark to observe, to memorize habits. Once Mark reports back to us, Jaehyun will give you the order.”

Jeno nodded and took a deep breath, “okay. Sounds good. Where’s Mark hyung now?”

“He’s on his way here. He was debriefed the night before to save time, all you have to do is get inside,” Jaehyun looked at his watch again before looking up at Johnny. “He should be coming soon then, isn’t he? It’s probably almost time for you to go too.”

“Right after Mark, yeah.”

“Will you do me a favor?” Jaehyun sighed, “will you take Jihyun with you to Jeno and Jaemin’s house? She wants to keep Angel company.”

Johnny furrowed his eyebrows and glanced at Jeno, who only had a smile to offer. “Why? I mean, I’ll do it, I guess I’m curious.”

“Her excuse is that she doesn’t know Angel, or something--hyung it was an hour argument please just take her.”

Johnny snorted and gave a smile afterwards, “of course. I’ll take her.”

“Thank you,” Jaehyun sighed. “I’ve got to go wake her up, I’ll be back in a second.”

Jaehyun walked towards the door and closed it behind him, shuffling quickly back to their bedroom as he watched Jihyun breathe slowly. He took a moment to admire her again, the way her body curled under the bed sheets with no intention of waking up. He thought about letting her sleep in instead and not letting her go out--and while she’d appreciate it for now, she’ll wake up absolutely irate if she didn’t. Instead, Jaehyun sighed and opted to wake her up, gently shaking her shoulder and watching her peek through her hair.

“Is it time now?”

Jaehyun hummed in approval and gently helped her out of bed, leading her into the bathroom before closing the door behind her. Jaehyun pulled an overnight bag out of their closet and began packing a few of Jihyun’s clothes, things that he knew she would be comfortable wearing as well as a shirt of his, just in case she misses me, Jaehyun thought to himself knowing that it would be him missing her more than the other way around. When Jihyun got out of the bathroom with a towel around her body, she noticed the bag on the bed and raised her eyebrow before cocking her head to the side.

“You must really want me out, huh?”

Jaehyun snorted, “no. I did it to save you time. Also, you won’t tell me but I see how hard it is for you to bend down these days.”

Jihyun smiled and kissed Jaehyun’s shoulder. She glanced inside the duffel bag and narrowed her eyes, “interesting. Why is your shirt here?”

“What if you forget what my stud muffin shirt looks like while you’re gone?” Jaehyun asked innocently, continuing to zip it closed.

Jihyun laughed quietly before moving towards their wardrobe, opting for an oversized sweater and a pair of her favorite maternity jeans.

“Why do I feel like you’re going to be the one who’s going to miss me more?”

“Because it’s true,” Jaehyun pouted as he pulled her in for a hug. “I’m clingy, sue me.”

“It’s for a day. Maybe two if I have fun.”

“If it’s for two please tell me so I can emotionally prepare.”

“God,” Jihyun groaned, pushing Jaehyun away as the latter tried to pull her closer,“you’re such a baby.”

“Shut up and kiss me,” Jaehyun huffed, continuing to pucker his lips as Jihyun tried her best to dodge.

Jihyun gagged playfully as Jaehyun laughed against her lips, biting her nose before pulling away, “are you done? Johnny oppa is probably waiting for me outside.”

“Johnny hyung can wait,” Jaehyun grinned, towering over Jihyun until she falls onto the bed giggling, falling suspect to Jaehyun’s sloppy kisses.

“Yoonoh, I have to go,” Jihyun laughed breathlessly, grabbing onto Jaehyun’s face once more to give him a full kiss.

“Fine,” Jaehyun frowned, rolling off and helping Jihyun get up once again. “Call me when you get there, okay?”

“How about I text you when I get there? And, I’ll call you tonight?”

Jaehyun scrunched his nose but nodded, “fine.”

Jaehyun helped Jihyun get into her socks before walking towards the front door, where Johnny was on his phone patiently waiting. There were a few jokes about having to wait a bit longer, but, to save Jihyun from embarrassment, Johnny kept them to a minimum before taking Jihyun’s bag as Jaehyun helped her into her boots.

“I love you,” he smiled. “Be careful, don’t have too much fun.”

“I love you too, but I promised Angel we’d go out drinking.”

Jaehyun narrowed his eyes as Jihyun laughed and kissed her fiance goodbye, “I’ll see you Tuesday.”

“Tuesday,” Jaehyun nodded, watching as Johnny offered his arm to carefully lead Jihyun into the snow and towards the running car. Jaehyun took a deep breath and kicked a shoe out of the way.

This is going to fucking suck, he thought to himself.

masterlist

#jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jaehyun scenario #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun smut #NCT #nct 127 #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct smut #jung yoonoh #nct imagines #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 scenarios

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iwillhaveamoonbase · 4 years

Text

The Long Game ch. 3

“You called, Dad?” Claudia announced her presence. Viren turned to her, sighing as he faced away from the mirror he had gotten back in Xadia. He still hadn’t figured out it’s secrets, but he had seen a cloaked figure appear every once in a while.

“Yes, Claudia. We need to talk about relationships.”

“Oh.” Claudia blushed, putting a few strands of her dark hair behind her ear. “Did you hear about the girl at the bakery? I know it’s unorthodox, but-”

“You don’t have time to be worrying about bakery girls, Claudia.” Viren sat in his chair, gesturing for Claudia to sit beside him. “Ever since Rayla got here, Prince Callum’s attention has drifted from you to her.”

“I know.”

“That’s not acceptable.”

Claudia looked down at her hands. “He’s my friend and I didn’t want to embarrass him, but I never liked him, Dad. I like girls.”

“I know. But we’re a different cut above people who work in bakeries.”

“That’s not what Harrow says.”

“Claudia, please. In order for our families to be closer together, in order for us to keep living a life you’re accustomed to, I need you to make an effort to get Prince Callum’s attention again.”

“Dad…I don’t want to. If he wants to be with Rayla-”

“Soren wants to be with Rayla. You’ve seen how he makes a fool of himself around this castle when she’s in the room. Don’t you want your brother to be happy? It frees Rayla up if Callum’s taken.”

“How would I even do it?” Claudia put her arms around herself. Viren got up, wrapping an arm around his daughter.

“Callum wants to learn magic. Though both he and Harrow are deeply opposed to dark magic, start teaching him how to use the primal stone. Private lessons. Do whatever you can.”

“I don’t know….”

“Claudia, look at me.” She finally did, confusion in her green eyes. Viren shook his head. He hated that he was asking his own daughter to sacrifice her happiness, but he had plans. Harrow was growing more and more distant from him. Killing Thunder and taking the egg hadn’t done their friendship any favors. If anything, it had deteriorated it. They argued constantly and Harrow had threatened to send him out of the castle. Viren couldn’t let that happen. Harrow was becoming too against dark magic and was starting to doubt everything they had built towards. What if Xadia attacked and Katolis was defenseless? Or worse, Harrow tried to make peace and Xadia used it as an excuse to invade the entirety of the Pentarchy? Viren couldn’t let that happen. “Please. It’s important that you do this.”

“OK, Dad. I’ll try my best.”

“Good girl.”

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

Rayla watched from the window as the royalty from the other kingdoms came to the castle. They were coming to celebrate Ezran’s eleventh birthday. “They’re here,” she whispered to Callum and Ezran. They both looked over at her, interest on their faces. “Have you really never met any of them?”

“I met the former Queens of Duren when I was four,” Callum started, “but, besides, that, no. This party for Ez is pretty unorthodox.”

“Why? Seems counter-intuitive. You get a stronger alliance when you all know each other, right?” Rayla glared at herself in the mirror. Was that too obvious? Callum and Ezran were really trusting individuals, but she really could be slipping as she grew comfortable here.

“There’s a concern about influencing the other kingdoms. There’s a desire to be friendly, but to also be separate and to respect differences. Duren and Katolis have usually had a reasonably close relationship compared to the others. But when you have a country like Evenere, which is far out compared to everyone else, it can lead to concern about plotting and alliances.”

“Fair, I suppose.”

“We’re going to get ready for the party. You coming?” Rayla nodded, keeping her eyes on the window for a moment longer. This was the other reason she was here; information. As she followed the princes to their rooms, she noticed just how rushed everyone was. They were moving about and it felt like the whole castle was being remodeled. “Good thing I moved out months ago,” Callum said to Ezran.

Rayla raised a brow. “‘Moved out?’”

“Oh. You didn’t know?” Rayla shot him a look of confusion. “Ezran and I used to share a room. The day I turned 15, which was right before you got here, I finally got my own room. It’s next to Ezran’s, but I needed space.”

“Why did you two share a room for so long?”

Callum shrugged. “Maybe because of our mom’s death. I know I had nightmares and didn’t like being alone and when Ezran needed a room because he outgrew the crib, I offered mine. I only moved because the king suggested it.”

Ezran sighed. “Call him ‘Dad,’ Callum. He liked it when you did that one time.”

“It felt weird,” Callum whispered.

“Because you made it weird. You apologized right after and everyone could tell that you were thinking about it for a long time. He liked it. For all the Big Feelings Times we have, the two of you are so hesitant to be open about this.”

Rayla was quiet as they argued about whether or not Callum should call Harrow ‘dad’. What was she going to do while the royal families were here? If she mingled too much, it would be obvious that she was trying to get information. Viren was already suspicious of her. But if she stuck with Callum and Ezran she would be missing out on an important opportunity. When they approached their rooms, they saw Soren and Claudia arguing in the hall. “Can we help you?” Rayla called.

The two turned, smiling at the trio. Soren cleared his throat. “Rayla, I was wondering if you would like me to accompany you tonight? Usually, for these things, people take dates and-”

“Callum already asked and I said ‘yes.’” Rayla’s eyes widened a bit. It was the perfect chance. If Callum was her date, then she could meet the royals and have an excuse to not be too conspicuous. But, that hadn’t been why she had said that. She didn’t want to go with Soren. She looked over at a sputtering Callum. “Right?”

“Yeah,” he muttered. “I asked a little bit ago. Sorry, Soren.”

“Oh,” Claudia interrupted. Rayla’s eyes narrowed. “That’s a shame, I was hoping you and I could go together, Callum.”

“Really?” Callum raised a brow. Rayla looked at her door. She didn’t want to hear this. “Why?”

“Well, you and I have known each other for a long time, so…maybe the two of us could start thinking about dating.”

“But…Claudia I saw you in the bakery last week. You and the helper were very clearly flirting and making-out.” Claudia flinched. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I’m sorry, I’m not interested in you like that anymore.”

Claudia’s jaw dropped for a moment, biting her lip when the shock probably wore off. “OK. That’s fair. Ezran, will you be my date?”

Ezran looked down at Bait. “Can Bait come?”

“Of course,” Claudia smiled.

“Sure!” Claudia, Soren and Ezran moved on, heading to their rooms to get ready. Callum hung back, still looking at her.

“Rayla?”

“Hmm?”

“I never asked you.”

“I know.” She said it so matter of factly it probably shocked him if his continued stare was any indication. “I didn’t want to go with Soren. I’m sorry I put you on the spot like that, but I didn’t see any other choice.”

“Is that the only reason?”

‘No’ almost escaped her lips. He needed to stop looking at her like that, like she was something to be admired and adored. “I trust you. Is that not enough?” Callum held her gaze for a moment longer, finally nodding. They stood in the hall a bit longer, static crackling in the air between them. “Besides, you need a good guard. Who better than me?”

Callum chuckled. “True. You can take anyone in the crown guard.”

“Yes, I can. And don’t you forget it.” Rayla turned away, entering her room. She leaned against the door for a few moments, pressing her clenched fist to her heart. Her heart was beating too fast. It always did that when he looked at her too long. ‘Does he see? Can he see through the illusion?’ She couldn’t tell. Ever since that first night on the balcony when he said something about her appearance was off, he sometimes looked at her like he could see through to her true form. He never said anything, so Rayla had no way of knowing if she was being paranoid or if he was quietly observing.

That wasn’t it, though. They talked on their balconies almost every night. Their winter at the Banther Lodge had been cozy and intimate and she had gotten to know him, Ezran and Harrow more. She liked what she saw. Liked it too much. Also….Ezran. Oh, gods, Ezran. Was she really here to kill Ezran? The more time she spent with him, the more she realized he was just a child and how wrong all of this was. The Dragon Prince hadn’t deserved to die, but, would justice be achieved by killing another innocent?

‘Stop it, Rayla! You’ve been having too many Big Feelings Times with them. You are here for a job. It’s not your responsibility to judge what is justice and what isn’t.’ It wasn’t her job at all. Rayla pushed away from the door and made her way to the bed. There was a blue gown on the bed. The gold embroidery on the skirt was obviously meant to be reminiscent of the uneven towers of Katolis. She ran a hand down the expensive silk. ‘Too much…’ Rayla pulled her clothes off and dressed in the gown. When she looked in the mirror to make sure it sat correctly, she was startled by her reflection. Human…she looked human. Would she ever get used to seeing blue eyes, rounded ears and blonde hair staring back at her?

Rayla stepped forward for a moment, hand touching the reflection and the other touching the necklace. What she wouldn’t give to pull it off and see herself looking back at her. Lujanne’s warning screamed loud in the back of her mind. ‘If you take that necklace off, the illusion will break. If you put it back on, you will not look exactly the same. There is no way of knowing if that difference could be explained away or not. You can never take it off as long as you are on this side of the border.’

Rayla quickly put the necklace under her dress. She didn’t need people asking questions. She did her hair in a loose bun, several chunks framing her face, and her small braid used to wind it all together. She had never thought about her looks before coming here. It was a distraction. There were most important things to do than having perfect hair. There were a few tubes and jars of, what she assumed, was make-up. “No way.” Rayla was not going to paint her face with human cosmetics if she wasn’t allowed to wear the dye of her people.

She put on the low heels Opeli had most likely picked out for her. The dress covered the heels. What was the point of wearing them if no one would even see them? She shook her head; just thankful she hadn’t been given anything with a corset or laces. She had seen that fashion here in Katolis and it didn’t interest her at all.

She looked in the mirror one more time and walked out the door to the hall. Callum was waiting for her. Her eyes widened as she took him. He was in a red jacket and a fancier version of his black pants. There was clear padding on his shoulders as well as the same embroidery of the uneven towers. His eyes scanned her form, slowly taking in every detail. She both wanted to hide and stand firm in his attention. “You clean up pretty good,” she finally said.

“You look beautiful.” That wasn’t fair…he couldn’t say things like that. Not when she was fighting her heart against him. Her heart was so desperate for her to run into his arms, tell him the truth, and maybe, just maybe, it would all work out. That wasn’t how things worked, though, was it?

“Thank you. I’m just hoping I don’t trip on this dress.” She lifted the skirt a bit to show the shoes. “I’m not used to heels, either.”

“You’re a pretty good dancer, though.” Rayla smiled. Callum had been tasked with teaching her how to dance since he wasn’t terrible at it. Rayla had taken to it quickly. It may not have been the same steps she knew, but Silvergrove was full of dancing. It was in their keys, their celebrations, their harvest, everything.

“You need to stop complimenting. You’re going to make me think you mean it.”

“I do. You’re amazing, Rayla.” Callum cleared his throat. “Shall we go?” He held his arm out, giving her the crook of his elbow. “I can’t wait to for you to show me off.”

“I’m showing you off?” Rayla chuckled.

“Of course. I’m the step-prince of Katolis. I need to be shown for the whole world to see. Oh…is the whole world going to see?”

Rayla looped her arm through his. “No. Just the important people.”

“Same thing.” Rayla laughed as he stuck his tongue out at her. They waited for Ezran and walked with him to get Claudia and Soren. The group of five exchanged pleasantries, Soren stumbling on his words as he complimented Rayla.

“The dress really suits you, Rayla.” Soren bowed a bit. “You sure you don’t want me to escort you?”

“I’m sure.” They walked behind Ezran and Claudia, who looked back at them every once in a while. Rayla didn’t know what game Claudia was playing, but she didn’t like it. It wasn’t acceptable to play with Callum’s heart like she was. “You got a problem with this?”

“No,” Claudia said too quickly. “Just wasn’t expecting it.”

“After seeing you give lingering looks to half the girls in the castle, I wasn’t expecting what you asked either.”

Claudia was quiet. Rayla wasn’t sure if she was simply refusing to answer or if she had offended her. Either way, Rayla couldn’t find it in her heart to care. They arrived at the hall, waiting for Ezran and Claudia to be announced. “This is so much,” she whispered.

“I know,” came Callum’s soft reply. “You can stay by my side all night if you want.”

“Thank you.” They walked forward when Opeli gestured.

“Introducing Prince Callum and King Harrow’s ward, Ms. Rayla.” Rayla took in the room. She saw a lot of figures she had seen from the window. She could hear whispers flitting to her ears.

‘She’s stunning. Look at that face!’

‘I heard a rumor she was gifted with weapons, but she looks so slim.’

‘They look uneven, don’t they? A rare jewel like that next to the step-prince?’ Rayla’s eyes flitted around the room, trying to find that particular voice. She saw a young man with a crown on his head dressed in golds and creams.

“Who is that?” she gestured with her chin when she got Callum’s attention.

He looked over and was quiet as he thought. “I think Prince Kasef of Neolandia.”

“So no avoiding him?”

“No. Why?”

Rayla looked back at Kasef. He was staring at her with heat in his eyes. She had heard rumors that Kasef acted like a child when he didn’t get a toy he wanted. “I don’t trust the way he’s looking at me.”

“How’s he looking at you?”

“Like he wants to eat me. I couldn’t be less interested.”

“Really? A lot of girls think he’s attractive from what I’ve heard.”

“I’m not into selfish children disguised as men. I’d rather kiss Soren, and I’m not into himbos, either.”

“‘Himbos?’” Rayla winced. Right, that was a Xadian term. Hopefully she could play this off.

“Not very bright, but muscular and kind. Well, he’s kind with Ezran. I don’t like how he treats you.”

“He’s not so bad,” Callum looked down at his feet. “He can be a pretty good friend when he wants to be.”

“He calls you the ‘step-prince’. I’ll believe you when he apologizes for that.” Callum didn’t push it. They finally made their way to stand by Harrow and Viren, standing off to the side. Rayla tuned out Harrow’s speech about friendship and forging connections to be a united Pentarachy. She’d heard Harrow practice it a million times. Watching everyone’s reactions to it was far more telling. There seemed to be a good-natured attitude in the air. Kasef, though, rolled his eyes every so often. Rayla looked at a young girl with blonde hair in a crown. She stared at Harrow with an intense gaze, but moved her eyes down the line. When she made it to Rayla, they held eye contact for a few moments. In those moments, Rayla saw a world of strength and pain. Someone who wasn’t willing to back down and didn’t trust because they were betrayed every time. “Queen Aanya,” she breathed.

Callum looked where she was, nodding slightly in ascent. “Yeah.”

Aanya held the gaze. What did she see? Finally, Aanya broke away first, but Rayla felt like she had given Aanya far more than she had learned herself. “She’s Ezran’s age.”

“She is.”

Harrow’s booming voice broke through Rayla’s concern. “Please, enjoy the night. And, again, thank you for coming to celebrate Ezran’s birthday.” Rayla stood to Callum’s side as the royals came up and introduced themselves. She curtseyed and kept her head down as much as good as she listened to everything around her.

When Kasef got to her, he picked up her hand and placed a kiss on it, a smirk that he probably thought was charming on his face. “May I have the first dance?”

“Already promised it to Callum.”

“Second?”

“Ezran.”

“Third?” Kasef’s voice was straining, squeezing her hand.

“Harrow.” It bothered Rayla how quickly lies left her lips lately, but she felt no guilt for this.

“Fourth?”

“Callum again.”

Callum coughed a bit. “Look, she clearly isn’t interested-”

“Was I talking to you, step-prince?” Kasef hissed. Callum looked down at his feet. “Thought so.”

Rayla glared at Kasef, snatching her hand away. “He’s right, I’m not interested. Pick someone else to annoy.”

“Rayla, right?”

“You’re bothering me and you’re asking to make sure you got my name right?”

“I just want to be sure I know the name of the woman I plan on pleasuring tonight.”

“Then you’re talking to the wrong girl. Not happening tonight, tomorrow, or ever.”

King Ahling sighed. “Kasef, leave the girl alone.”

Kasef cocked his jaw, but moved on. Rayla didn’t stare after him, looking straight ahead lest he turn back and think she was encouraging his behavior. Aanya was next. They stared at each other for a few moments. How did this tiny human queen make her feel so small? Aanya nodded. “I’m Aanya, Queen of Duren.”

“Rayla, a simple farm girl.”

“Not what I hear. How does a farm girl get so good with a sword she beats a member of the crown guard or so good with a spear she trains a prince?”

“We watch the military and play a lot. I’ve got good reflexes, I guess.”

“I see.” Aanya stared at her for a few more moments. “Has anyone ever told you that there’s something not quite right? It’s like something is pulling at the edge of my mind when I look at you.”

Rayla nodded. “Callum said that.”

Soren piped up from behind them. “It’s because she’s so pretty. You know how beautiful women make you stop in place. Same thing.”

Aanya was quiet, staring long and hard at Rayla. Finally, she turned away. “I see.” She turned back and nodded her head. “It was a pleasure to meet you.”

Rayla grabbed her hand, shocking them both. Aanya raised a brow but did nothing else. “What do you see?”

“I see someone who was deeply hurt by someone they love but hides it because it’s easier than thinking about it. I see confusion and anger and hurt. I also see a heart that’s too good for the world we live in, one always concerned with war breaking out. Perhaps, if you let go of that hurt and forgave, you could be happier.” Aanya walked away before Rayla could say anything.

“How did she do that?”

“She’s good at reading people,” Callum whispered.

“That’s an understatement.”

“You have to be if you live the way she does. Sycophants, assassination attempts, regents pretending to love her like their own child, whispering in her ears. It caused a stir when she took the throne last year. Everyone said she was too young, but she couldn’t trust the regents anymore. She’s either going to be one of the greatest rulers the Pentarchy has ever seen or she’ll be so clouded by distrust she’ll be a tyrant.”

“What do you think?”

Callum mulled it over. “She’ll be a good queen, I think. Maybe she won’t always make the popular choice, but she’s well-known for loving her people. She views them as her family because she lost her parents when she was a baby.”

The night dragged on. Rayla meant dignitaries and nobility who stared at her like she was a piece of cattle on display. Her face hurt from smiling and her feet hurt from the heels. The biggest reprieve had been dancing with Callum. A simple waltz had left her imagining they were the only two in the room. He had that effect on her, like the rest of the world just melted away and there was no one left but them. She had clenched her fists in Ezran’s clothes when he danced with Claudia while she and Ez danced.

“Rayla?” Ezran whispered. She looked down. “Callum doesn’t like her anymore. I don’t know what Claudia’s doing it, but anyone with eyes can tell her heart isn’t in it.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Rayla whispered.

“Then why are you so upset?” Rayla didn’t say anything. She danced with Harrow in silence, smiling at his jokes, but unable to get rid of the cloud hanging over her head now.

When she came back to the dais, Kasef was waiting for her. “May I have a dance?” he asked. Rayla couldn’t put her finger on it, but she had a feeling he expected her to say ‘yes.’

“Don’t you give up?” Rayla shook her head. “Will you leave me alone if I do?”

Kasef smiled down at her. “I can promise you you’ll never want me to.”

Rayla snorted. “Sure, but promise you’ll leave me alone.”

“If you truly wish it, if you let me have this dance, I will leave you alone for the rest of the night.”

“I’ll hold you to it.” Kasef took her hand and pulled her way too close when they got to the dance floor. Rayla pushed herself a more than appropriate amount away. “You’re pushy.”

“How old are you?” Kasef asked.

“16.”

“Marriageable age in Neolandia.”

“Cool,” Rayla huffed under her breath.

“You’re quite stunning. Why would you choose to be the step-prince’s date?”

“He’s nice and I like him.”

Kasef pulled her closer again. “I have experience with women.”

“How nice for you.” Rayla was going to slap him if he didn’t stop.

“A beautiful woman like you should be draped in silks and dripping in diamonds.”

“Not interested.”

“Come on. I’m offering you a chance no other farm girl would ever get.” Kasef spun her, and brought her back far too close. “If you keep my bed warm every night, I’ll give you all the pretty things you never dreamed of.” His hand snuck down her back and he groped her ass.

Rayla couldn’t hold back. She slapped him so hard his head swung to the side. “DO. NOT. TOUCH. ME.” Rayla held firm as he turned his head to look back at her. “Learn to take a ‘no’ every once in a while, and stop acting like a child. Actually, that’s not fair. Children know that ‘no’ means ‘no’. You’re spoiled and you need to grow-up.” Rayla walked away before he could say anything back. The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

“Well,” Aanya’s voice carried throughout the room, “I don’t know about all of you, but I think this party should move on. I’m tired of dancing. King Harrow, I heard that Katolis has a beautiful garden.”

Harrow nodded. “It does indeed. Let me show you all.” Rayla stayed back as everyone went to the gardens.

“You OK?” She was startled back into reality as Callum took her hand.

“I’m fine. Just grossed out.”

“Not even the jerkface dance could make that better.”

“No, it couldn’t.”

“What do you need?”

“Can we just go to bed? Or would that be rude?”

“Given the circumstances, I think it would be OK.”

“Did I really just slap the crown prince of Neolandia?”

“You did and it was awesome.” Callum chuckled with her, gently putting a hand on her upper back. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.” He looked up into her eyes and she almost fell into them. His lips her so close and they were alone. He moved away before she could let her heart make the decision for her.

‘It’s for the best, Rayla. Your heart is a fool.’

#rayllum #rayllum fanfic #tdp #the dragon prince #the long game #au #moonbase fanfics

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bluesey-182 · 4 years

Text

We Have To Stop Meeting Like This - Chapter Nine

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / ao3

this isn’t the most action packed chapter but it needed to be written. Plus, the next few chapters are gonna be Wild(TM) so this is like the calm before the storm >:). i know this took awhile, and it may not be as good as the other chapters because i’m dealing with a loss of a loved one right now so writing is hard, but i hope you like it regardless. also, please keep in mind that i was dealing with some serious trauma while being tested for all this stuff so my memory is very very fuzzy but i wrote all of this to the best of my ability.

also, here’s a link to info about psychogenic non-epileptic seizure disorder

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Rather than a gentle awakening, Jude was instead forced out of sleep by a smoke alarm going off and the TV remote digging into her spine. Beside her, Cardan groaned at the noise in the apartment and aggressively threw himself out of bed with his eyes still closed before storming sleepily out of the room. She heard words exchanged, windows being opened, and the alarm soon after stopped it's incessant noise. Something was definitely burning.

"Stop trying to cook, man," came Cardan's voice from the hallway as he made his way back to his room.

Cardan closed the door quietly behind him and turned back to face the bed, jumping slightly when he noticed Jude was also awake.

"Crap, I was hoping you had slept through all that," he said apologetically.

"Unfortunately," Jude replied, finally pulling the remote free from underneath her, "I'm not a heavy sleeper."

Cardan's shoulders slumped forward ever so slightly before he stalked over to the bed to bend over her. His lips brushed her forehead like a whisper as his hand found its way into her hair. He settled down on the bed beside Jude and her breath caught at the sight of him in all his morning glory--the full view of his tousled hair and the pillow creases still fading from his cheek. He was undeniably, heartachingly beautiful.

"How'd you sleep?" He asked, wrapping his arms around Jude's middle and gently bringing her closer to him. She settled against his chest and breathed in the scent of him.

"Mm. Good. It shouldn't be possible for a bed to be this comfortable."

"Alas, it is possible, but it's also expensive as hell."

Jude hummed a response before they settled into a comfortable silence. With her eyes feeling heavy, Jude felt herself being pulled back to sleep when Cardan spoke.

"Hey, so about last night…"

"What about it?" Jude pulled away from him just enough to see his face. There was a question in his eyes but otherwise a strange sort of guarded look on his face.

"Were you serious about wanting me to be your boyfriend?"

Jude's face was suddenly blazing. Had she made a fool of herself? Maybe he didn't want that kind of relationship and she had pushed for it and now--

"Because," Cardan continued shyly, "I was serious when I said I'm yours. If you want me."

If she wanted him? Cardan, with his snarky sense of humor and eyes she could get lost in with no hope of return? Cardan, with his surprisingly soft heart and ability to make her feel at ease? This Cardan beside her, looking at her like she was all the stars in the sky... All to herself?

"Yes," she breathed. "I was serious." His usual cocky grin spread across his face and she instantly regretted her words. "God you're gonna be an ass about this, aren't you?"

"Only for a little while," he said. "And then I'm going to go stand on my roof and yell to the world that I'm yours. It's going to be very embarrassing and probably involve a lot of tears, probably some snot bubbles, the cops will definitely be called because there's a crazy man on a roof in hysterics, but when they show up I'll just start shouting 'She's my girlfriend! I can't believe she's my girlfriend!' and surely they'll understand."

"You're insufferable."

"No," he said, pausing to let his real smile consume his face. "I'm your boyfriend."

"You know I could just end things right now," Jude threatened with no real heat behind the words

"Yeah but you won't. I'm too damn sexy."

"I hate you."

"I don't believe you," he teased.

"Good. You shouldn't."

From somewhere else in the apartment came another male voice. "Cardan!"

"Jesus Christ," Cardan moaned before yelling back, "What do you want?!"

"I'm ordering food! What are you hungry for?!"

Cardan let his head loll to the side before turning his attention to Jude. "He's just gonna keep yelling unless I go out there."

"Then I guess we better go out there," Jude said.

Cardan’s apartment (if it could even be called an apartment when it took up the entire top two floors of the building) practically screamed money. Where Jude’s apartment was shaped like a shoebox with only a kitchen, living room, two small bedrooms, and a single bathroom, Cardan’s apartment was a labyrinth of halls and massive rooms and an entire wall in the living room made entirely of windows. The room directly next to his was a full scale library--bookshelves lined the walls and stood sentry in lines down the center of the room. First editions peaked out from behind books falling apart at the binding. New books gleamed next to books so old the name was now illegible on the spine. There seemed to be no organization to the chaos and yet the space looked loved in a way the rest of the apartment didn’t.

When they passed the living room into the open kitchen, Jude saw a screen taking up nearly the whole wall in front of the luxurious couch that was in the ground. The X-Box was still on but left on the game’s loading screen.

In the kitchen was Cardan’s roommate with the evidence of a horribly burnt breakfast strewn about on the counters. The man seemed to be around Cardan’s age. He was tall and lanky but with muscles peeking out from under his shirt sleeves. Sandy blonde hair hung into his hazel eyes and the only word that came to mind at the sight of his face was elegant. He had that almost other-worldly look about him that Cardan had. The kind of beauty that only someone who grew up with money could have. Admittedly, he was handsome, but something about his practiced stillness warned that he was sharper and perhaps more dangerous than he looked. Like a snake with too bright colors to warn about it's venom.

"Jude, this is my roommate," Cardan said. "He hates his given name so we call him the Ghost."

"Why?" she asked. The Ghost smiled warmly at Jude as his eyes assessed her. She scowled and scanned him back but, despite her glare, he only continued to smile at her.

"Gamer tag,” Cardan answered. “It's a whole thing. In freshman year there was a group of us that always got together and played. Our other friends we call the Bomb and the Roach."

"So what's your nickname?"

"High King," Cardan said with a smirk.

"Because you're a royal pain in the ass?" Jude teased.

"No, cause I used to do a lot of drugs."

The Ghost took this as an opportunity to finally chime in. "Obviously."

"Oh, yes," Jude replied sarcastically. "Obviously. How silly of me."

“It’s nice to meet you, Jude,” the Ghost said. “Now, we need to figure out something for breakfast because I’m starving and I burned the eggs.”

Jude eyed the lumps of burned matter in the pan still smoking on the stove. “Those were supposed to be eggs?”

"God, you're mean," the Ghost observed with humor.

Jude glanced at Cardan through the corner of her eye. "So I've been told."

The Ghost laughed with a childish sort of glee before giving her a conspiratorial look. "I like it. I can already tell we're going to be friends."

"Lord help me," Cardan grumbled under his breath.

An hour later they were sitting at some mom and pop diner outside of town. The Ghost insisted they had the best breakfast known to man and so the drive was worth it but Cardan had just shrugged and interjected "the food's alright", which earned him a smack upside the head from Ghost. Jude laughed.

They had stopped at Jude's apartment on the way out of town for her to change into some actual clothes. When she walked back outside, Ghost was halfway into the front seat with Cardan smacking at him repeatedly and trying to wrangle him into the back.

"I want to sit up front," Ghost protested as he swatted at Cardan in retaliation.

"I'm not putting my girlfriend in the back, you fuckweasel," Cardan had shouted back, finally shoving his friend all the way back into his seat. Jude, for her part, pretended she hadn't seen any of it.

"Here's what I'm thinking," Ghost said now as Jude absentmindedly looked over the breakfast menu. "Chocolate chip pancakes, right? Whipped cream, nacho cheese, jalapenos--"

"Dear God," Cardan cut him off. "Please do not eat that."

"It's not for me, dumbass. I was thinking we could feed it to Locke and see what happens."

A look of consideration passed over Cardan's face and a laugh burst its way out of Jude. The mental image of Locke eating those disgusting pancakes only made her laugh harder, especially as she thought about him throwing up all over himself.

"Please," Jude said around her laughter, "please do it."

Ghost smiled triumphantly at Cardan and wiggled his eyebrows. To hide the smile trying to spread across his own lips, Cardan covered his face with his hands and his shoulders shook silently with suppressed laughter. "We're terrible people," Cardan said, the words muffled by his hands.

A waitress who appeared to be in her early fourties approached their table with a plastered on smile. "What can I get y'all to drink?" She asked in a charming southern drawl that lacked any warmth. She eyed the three young adults like they were mud tracked in on the carpet but, despite her look, Cardan gave her the same charming smile he had given Jude upon their first meeting. Now that she wasn't distracted by his assholishness and her anger at the accident, Jude could admit it was a smile that could make anyone go weak in the knees.

"I'll have an orange juice, please," Cardan practically purred. Whatever he was doing seemed to be working because the waitress had begun to smile and fiddle with her hair like she was smitten with him. Jude didn't know if she should laugh or punch someone. She glanced over at Ghost across the table and saw him covering his mouth to hide a smile. Catching her watching him, he shifted his hand to block his mouth from the waitress’s point of view and mouthed "MILF" before pointing to Cardan and winking. Unable to help herself, Jude snorted hard enough to choke on her own spit. The waitress scowled at her.

"Uh, I'll have a Coke," Jude said with a smile that only made the waitress scowl more.

"Coffee for me, please," the Ghost blinked up at the waitress in a way that made her roll her eyes before walking away.

"I hope you guys know she's gonna spit in your drinks now," Cardan claimed as he reached across the table to grab the basket of jam packets and began stacking them into some sort of structure.

"Why the fuck were you even flirting with her?" Ghost laughed. "You have a girlfriend now."

"I was trying," Cardan growled, "to get her to like us so we didn't get spit in our food."

"Looked to me like you were trying to get her into bed. What do you think Jude?"

"I think I might have competition," she joked.

"Oh please, no one could compete with you," Cardan stated. "You, Jude dear," he flashed her that knee-weakening smile, "are one of a kind."

"Gross, you guys ruined the fun," Ghost observed as the waitress came back and slammed their drinks onto the table hard enough to spill drops of soda onto Jude's lap.

"What do you want to eat." It was a question, but the waitress said it like a demand.

They rattled off their orders one at a time and she scribbled them down. "Is that all?" She asked, already starting to walk away from the table.

"Uh, yeah?" Cardan said uselessly.

In Jude’s back pocket her phone began buzzing. The screen flashed with an unknown number. Confused, she excused herself from the table where the boys were still making jabs at each other and laughing. Cardan watched her go with a question in his eyes but otherwise said nothing. Reaching the hallway with the bathrooms, Jude finally answered her phone before it could go to voicemail.

“Hello?”

A perky woman’s voice said on the other end, “Jude Duarte?"

“Um, yeah?”

“Hi. I’m with Dr. Moon’s office,” the woman said, naming Jude’s neurologist. “I see we have you in the schedule for next week but we had a cancellation this morning and we’re wondering if you would like to take it? The appointment is in two hours.”

Knowing Madoc, he had probably pulled some strings to get her in earlier. Jude ground her teeth in frustration but had to admit that the sooner she got to the appointment, the sooner it would be over. “Sure, sounds good.”

“Wonderful!” The woman said with too much enthusiasm. “We’ll see you then!”

Jude clicked the end button on the call and went back to the table in time to see Ghost shoot a straw wrapper across the table into Cardan’s face.

“Hey,” she said softly to Cardan. Ghost, taking the hint that something serious was about to be discussed, excused himself to the bathroom, leaving the two of them to talk. “I have… kind of a big favor to ask.”

“Okay, anything you need,” Cardan’s voice was calm, though there was worry in his eyes as he reached across the table to take her hand.

“Could you, uh… could you drive me to a neurologist appointment later today? I can’t drive anymore because of… everything. But you can just drop me off and if you don’t want to pick me up then I can call Viv--”

“No.”

“What?”

“I’m not just gonna leave you there, Jude, I’ll go with you and stay until you’re done.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Jude’s eyes fell to the table where their joined hands rested as Cardan began tracing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb.

“I know I don’t.” Gently, Cardan tucked his free hand under Jude’s chin and tipped it up so she could meet his eyes. “I want to, though.”

Jude hesitated. She was so used to doing everything on her own, never accepting help from anyone other than sometimes her sisters. Letting Cardan into her life was starting to feel like a mistake, like inviting the world to hurt her. What was she thinking, getting into a relationship with him?

“Jude,” Cardan said gently, saying her name like it wasn’t the first time he’d said it in the last few moments. “I can see you spiralling.”

"Sorry," she mumbled, a little breathless.

"Don't be sorry, dear. Just… let me be there for you?"

Jude searched his eyes and found nothing but sincerity. The longer she looked at him the more his features softened into an almost-grin that tugged at her heart strings. She had to admit… letting Cardan be there for her wasn't the worst thing in the world. And having him there would ease her own anxiety.

"Okay," she answered quietly.

"Okay," he repeated as he leaned in closer to her. They were inches apart and he was going to kiss her and she was going to kiss him back, right here in public for anyone to see.

"Are you guys done now? There's a creepy old dude in the bathroom that wouldn't stop bugging me," the Ghosts voice snapped Jude out of the moment and Cardan reluctantly leaned back, though he kept their hands joined under the table.

"You suck, dude," Cardan said. "But yes, we're done."

The inside of Dr. Moon’s office was almost as nice as Cardan’s apartment and Jude found herself wondering (not for the first time) why doctors' offices were always decorated like a showroom for an expensive furniture store. It definitely added to the sterile vibe you want in a medical office, but it also made her anxious to sit in the fancy waiting room and feel like she shouldn’t be touching anything. They had gotten to the office a little too early, even after the detour to take Ghost home, and were now sitting in silence. Cardan was flipping through some magazine while tapping his feet to the song playing faintly from behind the reception desk. Every once in a while he would show her the page he was on in the magazine and make a joke that she distantly registered. After the third picture, Cardan calmly set the magazine down on the table with a sigh and rose from his seat. Jude was about to ask what he was doing when he swiveled his ass around and sat down in her lap.

“Cardan?”

“Yes, dear?”

“What are you doing?”

“Easing your anxiety. You know, like a therapy dog.”

“Your boney ass is crushing me.”

“My ass is not boney, you take that back.”

A robust nurse walked through the door by the reception desk at that exact moment and thankfully pretended that everything was normal. “Jude Duarte? We’re ready for you.”

“Okay,” Jude said with a smile as she attempted to shove Cardan off of her. Before his weight lifted, however, he took the opportunity to further torture Jude’s legs with his protruding ass bones. Jude shot him a venomous glare as she finally got to her feet and he only smiled at her innocently.

“Go back to reading your magazine,” she said before following the nurse behind the door into the offices exam rooms. Jude took in the nurse’s scrubs and cringed at the bright yellow top that assaulted her eyes and made her head ache. As they came up to the little nook with the scale and other basic medical equipment, Jude schooled her features so the nurse wouldn’t see her face and think Jude was being rude.

“Alright, step up onto the scale so we can get your weight,” the nurse, who’s name tag read Claire, said kindly.

“Should I take my shoes off?”

“Yes, if you could please.”

Nurse Claire took Jude’s weight, checked her temperature and pulse, measured her height, and finally led her to the doctors personal office with a smile.

“The doctor will be with you in a moment,” Claire said with another smile before sliding the door mostly closed. Once again, Jude found herself waiting. There was a rubber band ball at the edge of the side table closets to her that she began fidgeting with just to have something to do when the door suddenly flew back open and admitted Dr. Moon. Startled, Jude lost her grip on the ball and watched as it rolled under the table.

“I’m so sorry,” she stammered.

“Oh, don’t be sorry,” the doctor laughed, “that’s what it’s there for.”

The last time Jude had been in this office she had been eight years old. She remembered feeling so small beside Madoc, so lost beside him in that first year of living with him. They went through weeks of EEGs and MRIs and blood tests only for the doctors to tell her they didn’t know what was going on. Eventually they came to a diagnosis: psychogenic non-epileptic seizure disorder. A fancy way of saying “the death of your parents fucked you up so bad that now you have seizures due to PTSD”. Therapy and medication and several years passing had made the seizures stop until Jude got a traumatic brain injury playing sport in high school and the diagnosis changed from “non-epileptic” to “epileptic”. The seizure meds she was again put onto took care of the episodes and she was seizure free once more. Until now.

“So, Jude,” Dr. Moon said as he settled into the leather chair behind the desk. His hair had greyed since the last time she was here. His storm grey eyes now squinted at her through rimless glasses and new wrinkles lined his lightly tanned skin. “I see from your file that it’s been a long time since we last saw you in here. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

Jude’s mouth was suddenly dry, but she forged on. “Um,” she cleared her throat, shifted her weight in the seat, looked down at her hands in her lap. “My, uh, my seizures started again after several years of not having any. The first one was at my dad’s place and I was taken to the ER. The second one happened in my apartment. I, uh, I hit my head pretty bad and my… boyfriend,” she hesitated on the word, wondering if she should have referred to him as her friend since they hadn’t been dating at the time of the incident, “found me on the ground bleeding.”

Dr. Moon’s face looked thoughtful as he listened and when Jude finished recounting the details, he nodded sagely and leaned forward in his chair. “Jude, I think we’ll start off with an MRI today and then, since we don’t know if this is a relapse of your PNES or epilepsy, I’m gonna recommend that we set you up for an appointment in our other office for some EEGs. I’ll recommend one be done in-office and then we’ll set you up with a 72 hour one that we can send you home with. But until then, we’ll increase your dosage and see if that helps. Once all the results get in, we’ll meet up in this office again and go over all of it with you. How does that sound?”

Terrible. “Sounds great,” Jude forced out with a false smile. Being strapped up to wires and wrapped up in gauze around her head and having a small device strapped across her chest for three days was not something Jude was looking forward to. She had thought she was done with that.

“Excellent, I’ll let our MRI tech know you’re coming back and then we can send you on your way for today. Are you wearing anything metal on your person?”

Jude, having suspected they would want to do an MRI today, had chosen her clothes to be button and clasp free. “No.”

“Very good. If you would like the wait in the waiting room while we get everything set up then my nurse will retrieve you when we’re ready.” Dr. Moon opened the door to his office and held out his hand in invitation for her to exit.

Cardan was pacing between the windows when Jude walked into the waiting room. At the sight of her, his steps halted and he raised a curious eyebrow at Jude. “That was fast,” he said with a question in his voice.

“They’re setting up the MRI machine.” Instinctively, Jude wrapped her arms around her middle at the thought of being in that machine, even for just a few minutes. She hadn’t dealt well with small spaces since a night many years ago full of blood and sirens and coroners and…

Someone else’s arms went around Jude and held her in a tight embrace. She forced herself to take a deep breath, inhaling the now familiar smells that made up Cardan. Distantly she registered his hand in her hair as he gently wrapped some of her slight curls around his finger.

“Want me to go back there with you?” Cardan suggested. All Jude could do was give a small nod of her head against his chest. With one last deep inhale, Jude peeled herself away from Cardan and reached for his hand to hold onto. It was hard to meet his eyes with the images of a night long past flashing through her mind. Still, she gripped his hand for support and he gave her fingers a small squeeze.

By the time the nurse came to collect her again, Jude had put herself back together and steeled herself for what was to come. Silently, with Cardan’s hand still firmly in hers, Jude followed the nurse to the back of the building where the MRI suite was. Papers plastered on the door and wall gave warnings and notices and all the other necessary disclosures for the rooms’ use. Jude settled onto one of the few chairs lined out in the hallway and watched the nurses’ retreating form. A few moments later a door next to the MRI room opened and a pretty blonde girl walked out with a smile. She was shorter than Jude, with flashing blue eyes, and she balanced on small heels.

“Jude?” The woman asked sweetly.

“Yeah,” Jude breathed.

“Hi, I’m Laney. If you’ll follow me into the room then we can get you all set up. Are you wearing any metal jewelry or clothes with metal clasps?”

“No.”

“Perfect, you won’t need a gown then.” Laney swept open the door into the MRI room and Jude’s heart beat a little faster when she got a peak of the machine. The room itself was unnecessarily large for only containing the one machine and the front wall was partitioned with a huge glass window leading into the tech room where Laney and Cardan would be watching her. Forcing one foot in front of the other, Jude came up to the table and paused.

“So Jude this is pretty easy and completely painless.” Laney fidgeting with wires. “We’ll just have you lay down and remain very, very still so we can get these pictures done as quickly as possible. The machine itself is pretty loud so we have some headphones here for you,” at this, Laney waved some of the wires in her hands into the air. Sure enough she held an odd looking pair of earbuds. “We have Spotify Premium to play whatever you want. And if anything goes wrong or you have a question or anything else, there’s a little button right here that you’ll be holding,” she waved the other wire in her hand, “that you can push to alert me. Sound good?”

Jude felt like she was choking. “Yes,” she managed.

“Fantastic! Let’s get you situated.”

Jude shot a glance to Cardan leaning in the doorway with his hands in his front pockets. Sensing her unease, he stepped forward and offered her hand to help her onto the table. He gave her a reassuring smile as the MRI tech rearranged Jude’s limbs on the table and messed with the technology of the machine.

“Okay, now we’ll be in the next room right over there,” Laney explained with a gesture towards the window on the front wall. “This shouldn’t take too long but it’s important you remain as still as possible, okay?”

Jude gave a small nod. It was all she could manage.

“What music would you like me to play?”

“Oh, please let me choose,” Cardan said mischievously. Through the corner of her eye, Jude could see Cardan giving her a devilish grin. She sensed she might end up regretting it, but she agreed to let him pick the music. Besides, her mind wasn’t functioning enough for her to think of anything herself.

Cardan and Laney went to the other room. The door clicked shut. The machine started buzzing. With shaking hands, Jude put the headphones into her ears and then went completely still as a small light in the machine came on.

“We’re gonna start now, Jude,” Laney said. Jude didn’t respond.

Just as Jude’s nerves were fraying to their edges, a song started playing in her ears. It didn’t drown out the machine, but it made the noise more bearable. She was trying to remember how to breathe--inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale--

The chorus of the song began to play and Jude’s breath caught with familiarity. Memories of Cardan’s arms around her and the buzz of alcohol in her veins and the feeling of standing on a cliff's edge came to Jude’s mind as the song they danced to that night in the bar filled her head. She closed her eyes and lost herself in the memory of that night--of Cardan’s gentle touch. His smile, the walk home, the feeling of his jacket around her in the cold. Her breathing came easier now. She no longer had to think through the mechanics of taking in air, she felt her muscles start to relax. The songs continued in a playlist of music he’d played in the car with her, songs she heard him humming, songs he knew she liked. Jude couldn’t help it, a small smile spread across her lips as the last of her anxiety dissipated. Her heart felt like it was going to burst from the feelings bottled up inside her. Still, she let herself get lost in the music.

Sometime later, Laney’s voice came into her ears, “You’re all done Jude. Good job”

--------

tagging the people who have asked me to tag them in previous chapters:

@goblinwhoships, @hizqueen4life, @judexcardanxgreenbriar, @pilesofriles, @velarian-trash, @standbislytherin, @darlingod, @heyheyheylemonade

#jurdan #jurdan au #my writing #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #the folk of the air #text post #okay to reblog

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shunsatan · 4 years

Note

Headcanons for if Kaidou’s sister got a crush on Saiki

Fic time here we go babeyy. Starring the lovely Kaidou Sora.

It was a rough and cold day. One with winds that whipped you back and forth with no mercy. It was the kind of day that would gain your trust by having the sun tickle your skin, and then destroy the fragile warmth with a booming and freezing breeze. Sora wished she had stayed inside instead of going to the store to buy eggs for her mother. She cursed under her breath as another dreaded wind came and tangled her hair.

"Shun...? Shun!" She spotted her older brother loitering outside of another grocery store.

[[MORE]]

"...Sora?" He jumped, turning to face the smaller female "Oh, hey. Heading home?" She nodded.

"Well, I have Saiki with me. I can drive you home though" he turns to the pink haired boy who was still eyeing a rack of coffee jelly from outside of the store window.

"Drive? You can't drive. This isn't America, dumbass. You're not old enough to get a license and you don't even have any type of vehicle with.... you..." she slowed her words upon seeing him walk up and start a motorcycle with some unappealing (not to mention, chuuni) decorations; only shun would decorate something to look that stupid.

"I forgot you had one.." she awed. Though, the last thing she needed was more wind slapping her face "But no thanks. I'll walk. You don't even have an extra helmet."

Saiki turned to the bike he had been pure pressured into bringing. 'Yare yare' he mumbled as he sat down too fast, causing his head to ache. This place was crowded, so it made sense that his head would hurt naturally- or, that's what he thought until he saw Shun's sister getting kidnapped. Good grief. No way to sit still after seeing that.

'Hey' saiki called out to her, placing a helmet on her head. 'You can ride on the back of mine. It's going to be dark soon and then it'll get even colder.' He said, walking back to his motorcycle.

"Alright, fine" she got onto the seat behind him. Shun smiled at Saiki before starting his bike down the road, and the psychic then followed.

The wind came strong and angry. Sharp and bitter. It threatened to kick her off of the bike and caused her to have to wrap her arms tighter around the boy infront of her. He didn't care much for the wind. Nothing special, no reason for his heart to race because with his powers, his instincts don't sense danger. It wasn't much painfully cold, either. With his pyrotechnics it wasn't a problem at all.

Maybe I should tell him to stop... this is too cold Sora thought to herself

Saiki sighed as he used his fire power very carefully to bring heat to her body as well. He can't have Shun coming to school crying about his sister everyday. Especially when it's so easy to avoid.

This feeling...

Oh no.

it's gotten so warm... next to Saiki.. no, it must be that I... I have a crush..?

Good grief... this is uncomfortable the psychic thought

.....

And in days to come, the Jet Black Wing's sister would come to bother him about his friends. After that, her crush began to develop in a similar way to Chiyo. She would watch him with eyes that saw a round eyed prince. She would admire how smart and well mannered he is, and she would act especially polite when he made his presence infront of her.

Saiki Kusuo, was also thinking about her often. However; not in the way you might be thinking. He was forming strategies on how to avoid her. All of which were miserably failing. With her mother and his mother on her side, she couldn't fail. Discovering his family power structure, she would have Shun call Kurumi (his mother) and invite him over.

And with her own mother bothering Shun to hang out with his two "genius" friends everytime his grades would slip. Of course, Nendou rarely came because he was "always busy" (in reality, Shun didn't want Nendou and his mother interacting anymore in fear of her finding out that he's an idiot)

So, of course, this all worked out best for Sora.

.....

The group of four walked home like usual. Kuboyasu, Nendou, Saiki and Kaidou. They were discussing which character in Shounen Jump is the weakest while Saiki was praying for Nendou to ask them to ramen so that he didn't have to go to Kaidou's house again. Sora had been coming up with gifts for her crush so that he would take notice and start a conversation with her. Of course, she had almost no idea what would peak the boy's interest.

"Hey, Saiki. I thought maybe it would be a good time to ask you" Kuboyasu, the former delinquent spoke up. "Heard there's somethin' weird behind that 100 yen store. Wanna come check it out?" He offered.

Saiki almost shook his head and provided an excuse on instinct before remembering his main goal (to bLow up and act I like dont know nobody aghaghaghaa.) So he simply nodded.

"I wish I could come see!" Kaidou beamed before looking back down to the ground dramatically "yes... I wish I still had time to question those weird things around me... to leisure in activities like such. Though, I have a sacred duty at hand..." he clenched his bandaged fist

"Gotta take a shit? Me too" Nendou chimed in.

"NO, IDIOT! I have cram sch-- I um.. I m..mean I have to meet with the phantom force! Th-that I'm helping train to work as soldiers against dark reunion!!" He stumbled all over his sentence before finally turning his body to strut off over to the direction of his house.

"Shun. I need you to help me with.. homework" his sister quickly requested and dragged him into her room, pushing him on the floor infront of the small table that sat in the middle of the room, just like his.

"What can you tell me about your friends? Start with Saiki kun" she reached for a notepad and a pen.

"Shouldn't you be referring to him as senpai or something because he's a second year?" He mentioned before being cut with her glare. "R..Right! Okay, sorry... he likes sweets an-"

"Sweets and what!? Why'd you stop??" Sora pressed

"Why do you need to know about my friends? Is this a homework assignment..?" He questioned her

"Yeah sure." She rushed "he likes sweets and what?"

"Ohh! I think I remember having this assignment in middle school, too! You're supposed to write about your closest friends and their interests right~?" He thought back to his middle school year and looked at her with warm eyes. Empathy began filling his soft face, adjusting his features on her. "Sora, I couldn't make any friends in middle school either, so...!" He began "I've noticed you've been really nice to Saiki.. so if you want to be friends with my friends-!"

"I can make friends. I'm not some lonely loser like you who needs a hero complex to interact with people his age." She interrupted, sending an imaginary arrow through the highschooler's chest.

"Guh-- well if you don't want my help then in leaving!!" He stood up and caught notice of a small hand stopping him

"Wait! I'm sorry.." She got onto her feet and bowed "I'm just... embarrassed about not having friends." She lied, not wanting her brother to know she had the hots for his bestfriend.

Her phone chimed, once, and then again. It was three of her friends trying to reach her to hang out at the movies. Then she got a phone call, interrupted by another phone call.

"You should answer those" shun said

She hesitantly picked up the phone and answered the call.

"Put it on speaker" her brother ordered.

"...okay.."

<"heyyyy! Sora where have you been? Me and everyone else wanted to go to the movies with you. You're always knee-deep in studying so we wanted to help you relax a bit for once. You've been out of school for like, three days just shadowing and checking out Pk academy. It's still a while before we get into high school, grandma~! Anyway, the 7 of us wanted to show we love you by taking you to see that movie you mentioned wanting to see. So get ready, we want to be there by 7:30"> the girl on the phone ranted on before Sora could speak up against it, and hung up.

".....Shun-"

"SEVEN!?" he exclaimed as Sora rushed into another apology. This must be the first time he's ever made HER scared of HIM.

"Don't apologize Sora!! That's amazing, I'm so happy you have great friends... ahyuuu...." he teared up

"Oh... thanks, I guess"

"But one thing" he said and stopped her from leaving the room

"Huh?"

"Why did you need to know about my friends for that project?" He tilted his head

She looked over to the door knob as if she was begging it for help as her face was overpowered by a dark red hue. "W....we-well-- Sh...shut up! Get out! I need to get dressed!!" She pushed him out.

"Ow!! Ouch~! I'll leave!!" He practically screeched as he was rushed out. "But I'll stand outside of the door until you admit!"

A few minutes later, she yanked open the door and sprinted down the hallway. She knew her small brother wouldn't be able to catch her with how weak and slow he is.

But her little brother could.

She tripped and landed on her face after having her legs caught and wrapped in bandages by Toki Kaidou.

"Now tell me why!" Shun stood proudly over her despite not having done anything.

Toki went back to his room as Sora nearly freed her feat from the poorly tied bandages, that is before Shun, someone who actually knew how to tie a knot, fixed them.

"Fine!! Just let me go!" She yelled at him "I... is there any reason for it? I think he's cool. You can always have new friends. You're just stupid and think that 7 is the max" her face was once again drenched in a dark pink color.

"Oh my god." He said

"What!?"

"You like him!!!" His eyes widened as he stood up frantically. "You have a crush on Saiki!!"

"Yeah, so what about it!?" Sora snapped at him

Shun gasped "Sora!! You're only in middle school-"

"Yet I'm more put together than you are" she said defensively

"But that's still kind of wrong.. we're about to be third years and you're not even in highschool yet..."

"I will be by the time you're third years though!!" She shouted, then slumped down.

"Yes- bu-" he began, getting cut off

"I know. I just... I really like him and I've never liked a guy before. I know it's stupid." She sighed, defeated

"No no, Sora I'm sorry... You can't control who you like, right? I was being mean-" he began

"It's fine, you're right about it being weird. Just untie me so I can go to my room"

"What about the movies with your friends?"

"...whatever"

....

'Yare yare,' Saiki sighed, taking another bite from one of the homemade cookies Sora had anonymously sent him before placing it down and uncrossing his eyes. (he had checked with his powers and knows the cookies were from her)

'I guess it can't be helped' he sighed once more before sending out a telepathic signal

"Sora!" She sang as she knocked on the large door infront of her.

"Hello?" Shun answered and opened the door wider for the girl to come in "you're one od her friends!" He chirped "She said she isn't feeling well enough for the movies; I think you should try cheering her up."

"Oh, okay... um, where would her room be?" Upon entering the house, the girl suddenly grew nervous. For some reason.

"Here, I'll show you" Shun lead her to Sora's door and sprinted away to hide before the girl could knock on it.

"What do you want." Sora snapped after hearing the door knock

"Eek! Sorry, I just.. uhm...wa it's Yui! your b..brother let me in" she stuttered unlike how she spoke on the phone

The door opened and inside was a girl with messy hair and red eyes. An embrace came soon after.

I thought you might've needed a hug... Yui intended to say, but instead voiced out:

"You... h.,,hug. Yeah. Needed yes...mn"

Sora laughed, at first came a weak chuckle, then as the hug parted it became a strong belly laugh (upon seeing Yui's flustered face)

.....

"Shun!" Sora called, making the timid boy jump and start shaking from fear

"Y-yes?" He was sweating bullets

"I'm going to the movies with my girlfriend." She took Yui's clammy hand and headed towards the door.

Shun blinked. "Wh--"

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