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separatist-apologist · 9 months

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Lying In Between The Memories

You could call it paradise but it looks just like hell to me

Summary: Following the blood rite, Gwyneth Berdara can't shake the memories of a life long-gone.

The shadowsinger can't seem to move on after five centuries of loving the same woman.

Together, they'll have to carve a new path forward.

[ongoing TW for Sexual Assault]

“This isn’t what Rhysand sent us to do,” Gwyn complained, stretching out her leg on the little island Azriel had brought them to. It was mostly jagged rock and steep, cliff drops into the churning ocean she’d jumped toward just the night before. Relatively few trees remained, battered and gnarled from the relentless water that pounded the shore. Black sand made up the beach, and treacherous waves crept toward them, trying to sweep them into the icy sea at the first opportunity.

Azriel was in his element. That irked her, made more irksome by that too knowing smirk on his stupid, beautiful face. He was in his training leathers which was hardly unusual, though Gwyn had caught him unpacking the night before and knew for a fact Azriel owned nice trousers and tunics. He just chose not to wear them.

“Sure it is,” he interrupted, his dark, icy voice no match for the water splashing just below them.

“It’s a loose interpretation of what he wants from us,” she shot back, unsure why she was arguing. Azriel’s smile widened and gods she wished he wouldn’t smile like that. In fact, Gwyn wished he’d go back to scowling all the time .It was almost impossible not to want to please him when he looked so happy.

“I’m starting to think you care about the rules, Gwyneth,” he shot back without any malice to his words. Reaching for his thigh, Azriel pulled out his dagger while nodding at her to do the same. “This is where we left off, if I recall.”

Gwyn sighed. “No stretching?”

“Do I look like Cassian? Stretch before you arrive,” he replied, no hint of anger in his voice. There was nothing but the cool expression on his face and the dagger in his hand. Gwyn unsheathed her own blade, catching the furrow between his brows when he realized it was nothing special. Hardly the nice one she’d been gifted—but this was what Gwyn preferred. Jutting her chin in the air, she dared him to make a comment on it.

Azriel didn’t. His eyes found her face again, nodding in that respectful way of his.

Are you good, those hazel eyes seemed to ask?

Gwyn didn’t dare answer.

“Stab me,” Azriel murmured when she put herself into a defensive stance. She hated this game. Azriel knew it, too, judging by the wicked gleam in his eyes. They’d done this before, and the end result was always the same: Gwyn, flat on her back while Azriel held a dagger to her throat and explained everything she’d done wrong.

Privately, Gwyn thought the only mistakes she made were not being born five hundred years earlier. Of course he was better than her—he’d had so much time to practice. Gwyn could already feel the ache in her ribs as she stepped forward—her first mistake. Azriel’s grin was lethal when his arm shot out, slamming her roughly to the ground.

“Prick!” she gasped.

“Sloppy,” he replied, peering down at her from where he stood. “Have you regressed that much?”

“Maybe I just hate you too much to try,” Gwyn replied, rolling to her stomach so she could push herself to her feet. Azriel was quiet, waiting for her to stand. She’d gotten to him—she could see it in his expression. A better person would have apologized, but some part of her liked wounding him that way.

Azriel could hurt her physically, but Gwyn could get him back emotionally.

“Again,” she said, holding his gaze.

She swore it was admiration looking back at her—blinked away the next second as his shadows swirled between the pair of them like a buffer. What followed was the most maddening morning she’d spent in a long time. No matter how Gwyn approached Azriel, or how good she was, he was always better, and she always ended up on her back.

Even when he demanded she track him through the island in an attempt to even the playing field between them, and even when his shadows curled around her, trying to whisper help she couldn’t understand, Gwyn still ended up with truthteller pressed to her throat every. single. time.

“I hate you,” Gwyn told him when the moody sun was high in the sky. Sweat coated both their faces, dripping miserably into the leather conforming to her body. Azriel raked a hand through his thick hair, just as damp as the rest of him.

“You don’t,” he replied, though he seemed tense as he said it. As if he didn’t really believe the words he was saying, or that Gwyn might not hate him. Gwyn couldn’t admit that he was right, but she didn’t want him to think she actually hated him, either.

Twisting one of the plaits in her hair around her fingers, she asked instead, “Who trained you?”

Azriel’s thick brows raised high. “I trained in the Illyrian war camps, same as everyone else.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw, though, telling her that wasn’t exactly true. She could pry. That seemed the least she could do, given Azriel was being amicable and talking, for once.

“Just the Illyrian camps?”

There was a beat, and then— “The High Lord trained me into his service once I left.”

Rhysands father. Gwyn kept her voice carefully nonchalant, sliding her dagger back into the holster against her thigh while Azriel watched. “I heard he was cruel.”

Another pause. “He was.”

Azriel’s long life was a mystery to her. In truth, Gwyn had never given it much thought, but now, looking at him and his handsome features that always seemed so cold and distant, she wondered if that wasn’t protective, if only a little. She didn’t dare pry about working for the High Lord—at least, not yet. Gwyn merely filed that away for later.

“What are the Illyrian war camps like?” she asked him, coming a little closer. One of his shadows ringed around her neck, hovering against her shoulder. Azriel watched, eyes narrowed ever so slightly. In the light, she caught glimmering flecks of gold against the brown and green, adding dimension and light to a male so typically bathed in shadow.

She hated how she noticed that.

Hated even more how it made her heart stumble.

Azriel seemed more comfortable answering that question. “Brutal. You wouldn’t last a minute in that place.”

“It sounds like I wouldn’t want to,” she grumbled, coming closer still. “I grew up in a temple.”

His whole expression shifted into one of curiosity. “Were they kind to you?”

She couldn’t help her smile. “Yes. It was a family, in its own way. There were a lot of children, so you were never alone.”

“And you liked that?” Now it was Azriel inching closer, his head cocked like a cat.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

He only shrugged. “That you don’t like a lot of noise.”

“How would you know that?”

His smile was too much. Too earnest, too…too sweet. He had no right to look at her like that. He’d never looked at her like that, if she was thinking clearly. Gwyn schooled her expression into careful neutrality and prayed he kept the few feet of space between them.

“Spymaster, remember?”

“Don’t spymaster me, alright?”

Azriel held out one of his broad, callused hands—scarred, which she only noticed half the time. Now, though, Gwyn was wondering if that happened in the Illyrian war camp or from the High Lord. Wounds like that, with his immortal blood, ran deep. They would have been gruesome at the time. She supposed it was lucky he’d been able to salvage them at all, and wondered if they ever hurt him.

She gave no indication she was looking at them at all, hidden halfway beneath the siphoned glove he always wore. Instead, she made a show of reluctantly accepting, thinking if she were him, she wouldn’t want anyone's pity. Azriel didn’t seem the sort who would appreciate it, either.

She didn’t know much about him, but she knew that.

Azriel pulled her closer in that rough way of his, which she also liked. He offered her no pity, either. He could have, too. He’d been there in Sangravah. He knew what had happened intimately, in a way no one else beside Morrigan ever would. Gwyn had never spoken to him about it and he’d kept his feelings about that day to himself.

Outside of the temple, though, too many treated her like she was fragile. Nesta and Emerie, despite all their good intentions, were careful of what they said, and Cassian always wore kid gloves where she was concerned.

And Azriel merely beat her senseless into the dirt.

His wings flared behind him, blotting out the sun for a brief moment before he kicked off the ground. Gwyn wondered what kind of strength it took to lift not just himself, but her as well, into the air. She shivered. She didn’t want to think about that, either.

Gwyn did reach up, one arm still wrapped around his neck, to touch the edge of his wing.

Azriel choked, veering sideways and very nearly dropping them both into the turbulent, open sea water.

“Don’t,” he ordered, his voice strangely breathless. “You can’t—don’t touch those.”

“Why?” she asked, heart thudding in her chest. He didn’t look angry. Only out of sorts and deeply flustered. Red crawled up his neck, his eyes staring overhead as he righted them in the air.

“It’s…” Azriel swallowed, clearly trying to gather his thoughts. “It’s intimate, to touch an Illyrian male's wings. It’s something between lovers.”

Oh. It was Gwyn’s turn to look away, so deeply embarrassed she didn’t know what to say. Silence stretched between them, broken only by the whistling wind and the distant crash of waves below.

“It’s not a big deal,” Azriel finally said, his voice back to normal. “You can look at me, you know.”

“I thought you would prefer silence, too,” she said, looking over his shoulder.

“Did you?” he questioned softly. Gwyn swallowed hard. That voice felt more intimate than any amount of touching the silky edge of his wing ever could. There was no escaping it, not when his arms were wrapped around her body, keeping her safe and airborne.

Get it together. It’s only Azriel.

But that wasn’t true. More like, it was only Azriel. Gwyn took a breath, drinking in the warm scent of snow flecked wind and burning metal. It was comforting. “When it comes to me? Yeah, I did think that.”

An answering smile ghosted his features. “You’re wrong.”

Gwyn had never been so grateful to touch solid ground than she was just then. “If you say so, shadowsinger.”

His chuckle haunted her all the way back to the palace.

AZRIEL:

Azriel couldn’t read.

Staring at the pages of the book in his hand, reclined lazily in a chair in the library Kai had set Gwyn up in, Azriel tried. Not hard, but tried all the same. It was made more difficult by Gwyn, in a gown of periwinkle, staring down at her own book while Kai hovered just behind her. What happened to her priestess robes? Where had those gone? Hell, even the leathers were preferably to those dresses that hugged every inch of her body in the most maddening way. Worse, still, was the way Kai’s eyes kept darting to her breasts, pressed against the square neckline. It was made worse by the fact that Gwyn was leaned over that table, palms flat against the wood. Her cinnamon colored hair spilled around her shoulders, an occasional nuisance she’d brush out of her way while trying to translate the ancient tome Kai clearly hadn’t wanted her to see.

Azriel didn’t know if he wanted to murder Kai for looking at Gwyn with such obvious lust or for trying to monitor what she learned, when it was clear only Gwyn knew how to translate these texts.

Mostly. She knew some of the symbols, but not enough to read the way she would have liked, which was making her frustrated. Privately, Azriel hoped Gwyn exploded and Kai was caught in the crossfire.

As for Azriel, well…he could handle whatever she threw at him.

“What does that mean?” Kai asked, catching whatever Gwyn had muttered.

“I don’t know,” she said, throwing her hands in the air. “Oh, this is impossible!”

“Why not something simpler?” Kai suggested, putting his hand on Gwyn’s shoulder. Blindingly hot rage raced through him, tempered when he caught himself about to stand. About to break Kai’s hand—and for what? He knew Gwyn had her dagger beneath her dress. What was his problem?

His knee began to bounce all the same.

“I need…I need a cypher,” Gwyn said, head snapping up to look at Azriel. He pointed at himself, brows raised. He didn’t know what she was talking about. Shaking off Kai’s hand, Gwyn stepped around the table, eyes shining bright.

“You know who might have one—”

“No.”

She was about to divulge information Kai had no business knowing. And though she didn’t mean to, Gwyn was seconds from telling Kai about Helion Spell-Cleavers ten thousand libraries. He held her gaze, catching that flash of answering fury skitter across her face.

Kai watched their invisible showdown with interest. “Who?”

Gwyn swallowed, clearly pissed he’d dismissed her outright. It was a good idea—one Azriel was willing to entertain in the privacy of their shared bedroom. Not here. “One of the priestesses in my temple. She’s very good with puzzles.”

Kai’s eyes flicked to Azriel. He knew they were lying. “You can’t take the book from here.”

“I wouldn’t—of course not,” Gwyn said, so obviously flustered. “Maybe I can still decipher it later. I…”

“You look like you need rest,” Kai said kindly while Azriel swallowed the urge to snarl at him. “Maybe a nap before dinner?”

Gwyn’s whole face reddened. Slamming the book shut, she said, “Fine. I’ll be back tomorrow, though.”

“Of course you will. You’ve got that fighting spirit so many other females lack. I admire that about you.”

Azriel rose to his feet as Gwyn snapped, “You must not know many females.”

Far from being offended, Kai chuckled. “How right you are.”

Azriel bit back an annoyed sigh. It was tempting to suggest Kai go out and meet more females—preferably ones who were not Gwyn, nor anyone from Prythian. He didn’t, though, if only to keep himself from getting his head bitten off when Gwyn finally decided to sweep out of the library. She’d put the back on its shelf while Kai trailed after her, chatting about dinner and how she ought to sit with him up at the high table. This was courting, he realized. He’d seen Rhys do this a few times in his life—when they were younger, and his brother was testing what it meant to be a High Lord's son.

The ladies back then had at least recognized what was happening. Gwyn merely glanced over at Kai before inviting him to sit with her and Azriel. As if any male trying to convince a female into his bed wanted to compete with another male, winged bastard or no. Gwyn didn’t realize that, though, because Gwyn’s training hadn’t been in courts where males all but danced around what they wanted.

Azriel didn’t hide his smirk when Kai reappeared, put out and clearly frustrated his advances had been spurned. How did it feel, Azriel wondered, for a prince to lose to the likes of him? It wouldn’t be the first time—Azriel had stolen many females right out from Rhys’s nose. Not that he was trying to steal Gwyn—he wasn’t. They were…friends? That didn’t settle right with him, though he couldn’t find a word that explained things between them better.

Still. One day, Gwyn was going to pick a decent male and it wasn’t going to be the sickly looking prince from the smallest territory on the continent. Azriel very much doubted Kai even wanted her as a princess—merely an amusement for the duration of her stay. That’s what irked him, he decided. Kai didn’t even realize how lucky he’d be to end up with Gwyn as a wife, spoiled and snotty as he was.

Gwyn dismissed Kai with a tight smile and an agreement they’d talk more later. As she walked down the hall, Azriel remained just behind, eyes not on her sashaying hips. His shadows slithered back from their hiding spot, dancing around her and whispering secrets they knew damn well she couldn’t hear.

Azriel was grateful for it, given one of them was telling her how he’d spent his previous night, the traitor. He closed the door to their room, bracing himself for her rage. It came swiftly in the form of her spinning on her heel, eyes ablaze.

“No?” she hissed.

“You were about to tell him about Helion,” Azriel replied, crossing his arms over his chest. “What do you think the continent would do if they learned about ten thousand libraries, all at our disposal?”

“You couldn’t have said anything else?” she demanded, coming up to him without an ounce of fear. That was more than a lot of people could say. He’d seen full-grown Illyrian males cringe in his presence. Gwyn, on the other hand, jammed her finger against his chest. “You’re a prick!”

“So you keep reminding me,” he replied dryly. “What was in the book that’s so important?”

“I don’t know,” Gwyn hissed, stepping back with a huff of air. “Maybe something about Koschei, or maybe something about growing strawberries at night. The language is older than anything I’ve seen in the library.”

Azriel tucked his wings tight against his body, bracing himself for another bout of her anger. “I’ll send word to Rhys. See what Helion has to say. Maybe you could copy one of the pages?”

All at once, the ire winked out of her expression. Gwyn looked up at him. “Yeah. I could do that. Hold on—”

“I’m coming with you,” he grumbled, turning right back around to follow her once again, though at least this time she wasn’t radiating rage. Her steps were bouncy, hair swinging against her back. The library was, mercifully, free of Kai—or anyone but Gwyn, who made a beeline for her shelf.

“It’s gone!” she exclaimed, her face becoming red with anger. “He took it!”

Azriel thudded towards her, boots ominous even to his own ears against the floor. Azriel wasn’t surprised the way Gwyn seemed to be—it was clear Kai didn’t like how intelligent Gwyn was, and likely didn’t like the way everyone kept yielding to her.

Azriel looked down at her, unable to resist picking up a strand of her hair. Gwyn went still, chest rising and falling as the pieces slid through his fingers like silk. “I’ll get it back.”

“How?” she demanded, hands balled to fists at her side.

“Spymaster, remember?” Azriel was careful to keep his voice wry, to make it seem like this didn’t matter to him one way or the other. Perhaps he’d been wrong about Kai—maybe he could read the book and had taken it before Gwyn discovered the contents. Azriel very much doubted he’d be guarding it fervently. More likely, he’d tossed it somewhere out of sight, out of mind and wouldn’t notice it was missing for days. Long enough to get a letter to Rhys and longer still for Gwyn to work on making a cypher of her own.

Beneath him, Gwyn bit her bottom lip. “You’d do that?”

“It’s my job, remember?” he said, though the real answer he swallowed was of course I would. She didn’t need to know that. Hell, Azriel wished he didn’t know that. Chalking it up to the swirling emotions from Mor and being away from home when he wanted nothing more than to be napping in a chair in Feyre’s art studio, Azriel took Gwyn back to their shared room. He didn’t laugh when he told her she’d have to eat with Kai, nor was he particularly looking forward to going into the city alone when his own stomach got the best of him.

But at least he’d have that fucking book, and maybe some of the secrets this place had hidden from Mor and was currently trying to hide from Gwyn. He waited until she was gone, still in that ridiculous dress he loathed, scowling as she went. Kai would be too distracted by Gwyn’s beauty to wonder what he was up to.

“Where is the prince's room?” he murmured to his shadows. Functionally, they’d been useless since meeting Gwyn. All at once, they were back, whispering in his ear the way he’d become accustomed to.

In the west wing, in the spire overlooking the sea.

A little further down from where his mother was shoved.

He had several females over the night before, he tied them to the bed until they cried.

His father doesn’t sleep at night.

That last one interested Azriel the most. “Find out what he is doing,” he whispered before slithering out into the hall. Despite Azriel’s size, he know how to remain unseen, even when people were looking right at him. That wasn’t any kind of real magic, but the skills borne of a little boy desperately trying to avoid the notice of his brothers and father. Maybe now it was more than just a skill the way his shadows were, because no one spared him a second glance, even when he came in danger of running right into him.

Or maybe people only saw what they wanted, and no one wanted to look at him. Azriel was perfectly fine with that, especially when his shadows slithered beneath the locked stone door of Kai’s bedroom and unlocked it for him. He slipped inside, unnoticed by the servants and guards.

The room itself was pristine, though it reeked of stale arousal. Azriel thought his own room likely smelled the same, though it rankled him all the same. Something about another males bothered him—instinctually, it felt like a threat.

Azriel moved through the room, ignoring the unlit fireplace and the open windows. No drapes in here. It seemed in private, Kai was done mourning. That was interesting, too. He filed that information away for later, moving through the sitting room with little interest. There were no books here, though plenty of absurd letters from the ladies at court hoping he’d fall in love with them over their flowery prose.

If everyone was trying so hard, maybe it made sense that Kai wanted Gwyn. He’d seen that with Rhys, too. After a while, there wasn’t any fun chasing females if you knew you could have anyone you wanted. Sometimes, Azriel wondered if that hadn’t been the allure with Feyre, at least at first.

Stepping into Kai’s bedroom was a strange experience. Azriel didn’t consider himself prudish, nor was he a hard male to surprise. But iron rungs hung just over the bed frame seemed a little excessive, especially when a leather cat o’nine tails was set atop the wood bedside table. Azriel could guess, from the scent of come and blood, what went on in here.

It made his body tight with hatred, imagining Gwyn kneeling, arms chained over her head while a whip was taken to her skin. Too much, too far—he’d kill Kai for even thinking about it. The book Azriel was looking for was tossed lazily to a nearby desk right atop more absurd, filthy letters.

Rolling his eyes, Azriel picked it up and slid it under his arm while his shadows pried in every nook and cranny for anything interesting. More sex toys filled the closet and bathroom—their uses better left a mystery, even to Azriel.

He was back in the dining hall, book dropped on Gwyn’s bed without lingering, just in time to see Kai bowing over her hand, mouth against her skin. He had to swallow, fighting the urge to snarl even from across the room. Gwyn was flushing, bright eyed and lovely right until she saw him at the far end of the room. Their eyes met, silencing the chatter happening around them. There was a question in her eyes.

Did you find it?

He inclined his head slightly. Azriel had the displeasure of watching Kai murmur something against Gwyns skin, and worse still when she tilted her head back to laugh. He didn’t need to watch this. There was dinner waiting for him down in the city in one of the vendors' stalls, and if he was lucky, people wouldn’t stare too much. She had her book.

She didn’t need anything else.

Not from him, at any rate.

#gwynriel #me to me: i want a month off after this week #also me: upload this chapter so you can post the smutty one next week

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paralyze-fic · 6 months

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Paralyze.

Chapter 17

We all started to run back to the bus, but Pixie Bob made the earth shake and shift, making us all fall down the cliff. My fall wasn't as hard as I thought but the rest was groaning and rubbing their bodies in pain. Mineta took off running with his hand on his crotch, and I remembered him saying something about having to go to the bathroom.

But a loud roar made us tense. A big beast appeared in front of the tiny grape boy. Koda ran up to it yelling, but it didn't work, the animal wasn't obeying his words.

Then Izuku said something about them being made out of dirt, so I scoffed loudly. Great for me.

"Oi, asshole." I turned to look at Bakugou, who was staring at me with a frown on his face. "You can use me."

Blink... blink... blink blink blink.

Nosebleed.

"Shit," I turned my head away from him at the misinterpretation of his words. That sounded too sexy, fuck, I have issues.

"Huh? What the fuck are you on about?" Bakugou dragged me to him and charged at one of the dirt beasts. "Use me!"

After I swallowed my spit, I kept my eyes on his left arm, activating my quirk and stopping his muscles, then enhanced my own arm.

This was going to be a hard task.

//////

Slowly, panting and worn out, we all walked towards where we could see the building we were staying in. Mandalay, Pixie Bob and Aizawa were here... also that little kid again. The grumpy look on his face reminded me of someone.

I wonder who... my eyes moved to my right, where Bakugou was walking and I snickered at my own thought. He looked at me with an annoyed face.

"How can you laugh? Aren't you tired?" I sighed and my shoulders dropped.

"I'm so tired I'm about to die, but I still have my humour, Bakuboy." He growled at me and walked faster.

"Don't call me that, shithead."

A growl of my own resonated inside my chest, how dare he? He's the one giving us all shitty nicknames.

"What do you mean three?!" I heard somebody exclaim, most likely recalling the woman's words.

"That's the time it would have taken us. I'm sorry." Mandalay explained.

"So you just wanted to show off how good you are? That's mean." Sato replied.

"I'm hungry! I'm dying!" And now Kirishima yelled still sitting on the ground.

"But honestly, we thought it would take you all longer. You didn't have as many problems with my dirt beasts. Especially... you five over there." Pixie Bob pointed at us five; Iida, Midoriya, Bakugou, Todoroki and I. "You could attack thanks to your experience?" Pixie Bob licked her lips. She jumped at us pursing her lips and yelling something about how she was going to wait for us to graduate to marry us. I slowly backed away from her, and Izuku was gonna say something related to age, but the blonde woman rested her paw on his face, threateningly saying 'What about it?'

That was when Izuku mentioned the little boy standing beside Mandalay, who introduced him to us.

"Oh, he's my cousin's son. Come on, Kota. Greet them. You'll be with them for a week." Well, Izuku walked up to him introducing himself, but Kota punched his balls.

The sight made me flinch and instinctively, hide my dick with my hands. "That hurts..." I mumbled to myself, as Iida ran up to poor Midoriya who had gone a pale white colour, and yelled at Kota.

"Midoriya-kun! Savage kid! How dare you do that to Midoriya's scrotum?!" Iida's voice made me stiff a chuckle and I decided to walk up to the poor male in pain to help him. I used to my advantage Bakugou's yelling at Todoroki, because he wouldn't have let me go.

"You okay, Izuku? Let me help you." I picked him up bridal style and he curled up against me, whimpering in pain. "Let's get you an ice pack, alright?" He nodded and kept his eyes closed shut, hiding on my chest.

"Eh?! Where did that fucker go?! (L/N)! Get back here, bitch!" I growled at Bakugou's screaming and glanced at him over my shoulder.

"I'm not your dog, hedgehog! I can go wherever I want!" He turned to stare at me, and I swear, I saw fire in his eyes. He was stomping towards us, but I just kept on walking. "I'm gonna be with Izuku for a while, go with Eijiro or someone else." I went inside the building, and set Izuku down on a nearby couch, stepping off to get an ice pack.

While looking for it, my mind was racing. Thinking back to lots of moments I had spent with Katsuki.

I have to distance myself a bit, otherwise, I would end up really hurt.

I grabbed the ice pack once I found it closed the fridge, walked out of the kitchen and made my way to Izuku, he was still in pain as I handed him the ice and everybody started walking inside.

It has been a while since I've talked to the boy so I thought I could take this opportunity to do it. I sat down by his side.

"How've you been Deku? We haven't talked in a while." He chuckled and let the ice rest on his crotch.

"I've been fine, and if we didn't talk was because of Kacchan," I laugh with a nod.

We talked for a while, and I also told him about all those fights I've had against Bakugou, he seemed surprised to hear that every time we fought, I won.

"I'm surprised that he still talks to you, usually he hates those who win against him," I sweatdropped at his statement and looked down.

"He tells me he hates me at least twice a day, though, so I guess he does." The smile on my face was a fake one, I was hurt at the mere thought of Bakugou hating me. Izuku seemed nervous and tried to fix what he said.

"No, that's not what I..." he stopped and relaxed after some seconds in silence, and I looked at him. "He seems comfortable around you, and since you two met he had been yelling less at me and also seemed less angry." My cheeks heated up a bit.

"He seems the same to me," he chuckled and shrugged.

"Well, I've known him since we were kids, so I noticed the change in his behaviour." Izuku looked at me in the eyes and smiled brightly at me, "Thank you, (M/n), for being a good friend to Kacchan."

//////

Now, after we ate dinner, here we were.

All the boys were at the hot springs, and I was freaking out.

Why! Can't I just take a normal shower and go to bed?! I don't want to be there, in that pool, naked, with everybody around me! I'm shy!

My eyes were staring down at the cold floor underneath my feet, hearing everyone chatting and walking to the hot water. At the moment, my mind wasn't functioning properly.

"(M/n)-kun, are you okay?" Izuku's voice made me flinch and stare at him, only for me to cover half my face and look away. He's so close.

"Uh- eh, no, actually I..." I hunched over my body by my waist, making my voice groggy, "I feel a bit nauseous, maybe it was something I ate. I'll go to sleep early." I turned around, ready to leave, when I felt a hand on my back, rubbing it softly.

"Really? You want me to take you to the room?" Frantically, I shook my head and moved my hand away to smile reassuringly at him.

"I can go on my own, you go and enjoy the hot spring." He seemed unsure but nodded nonetheless.

"Call me if you need something," I hummed an affirmative 'huh uh' and walked out.

The very moment the door closed behind me, my body leaned on the wall beside it, a relieved sigh leaving my lips.

I'll have to bathe at some point, right? Just not now, and not with all the boys here.

With that thought, I walked to the big bedroom all the boys were sharing, changed into my sleeping wear and plumped down on my futon, closing my eyes and drifting off into a deep slumber.

#paralyze fic #bakugou katsuki fanfic #bakugou x male #bakugou x male reader #male reader #reader insert #x reader

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izzy-b-hands · 1 year

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Crossed

Weird roadtrip au kind of thing??? in small random scenes?

TW for a moment of emetophobia in one scene

eventual steddyhands.

pls know that this entire fic literally only stemmed from me thinking abt Con doing that arm around the passenger seat thing while backing up a car and going 😳 😍👀 over it. That's it. It's been three days ajsndnfngn

anyway pls enjoy

---

"I don't mind driving," Izzy mocks himself. "Why did you say that? Why would you ever say that?"

"Do you not like driving?"

Izzy jumps at the sound of Frenchie's voice. "Thought you were helping order food."

"There's a slight argument over fries and them being salted or not," Frenchie says. "And it was getting..."

"Uncomfortable?"

"Putting it mildly considering it's literally just fries and Roach literally carries packets of salt and pepper and other stuff with him because...well, Roach," Frenchie replies. "I think we've been in the car too long."

They have, all of them, almost definitely. But Stede insisted that a cross country trip to a country none of them had been to would be good for them all. Bonding and fun and freedom!

Except he chose the United States, aka the biggest fucking desert of a country Izzy's ever had the displeasure to drive through. Not that it's all actually desert of course, but with how far away some cities are from the next, it may as well be.

Add in highway hypnosis now in the prairie states, and Izzy...Izzy is done.

"We've got to get to California yet," Izzy says. "Or Washington. Not sure if Stede and Ed have finally decided."

"How close are we?"

"We," Izzy announces as he peers at the maps app on his phone. "Are currently in Minnesota. That is approximately...1,400 miles and some change away. If we drive without stopping, it says we could get there in less than a day."

"Yeah, in an empty car that'll roll off a cliff into the sea," Frenchie snorts. "Well, not empty I guess. I think we'll all have killed each other by then, without a single break. So our corpses would be in there. Bloodstained windows the only sign of life as we roll through town..."

Izzy stares at Frenchie. "I think we should stick to taking breaks."

"Probably should."

"Seriously?" Izzy scoffs. "We were pulled to the side of the road before I started eating! The car is off!"

"All I see is a driver, in the driver's seat, eating. That's illegal here," the cop replies, shoving a ticket at him. "Not sure what else you expected."

"I expected after hours of driving while my food got cold, I could pull into an empty gravel fucking field near the highway and eat," Izzy scowls.

The cop studies him. "Step out of the car."

"Oh for fuck's sake-"

"Sir, I do not appreciate that tone. Out of the car, now."

Izzy looks back to his sleeping companions, all apparently out hard enough that none of this has so much as made them blink an eye open.

He steps out and hands over everything the cop asks for, down to his passport. Then he leans on the car and waits while everything is looked over.

And waits.

"What on earth are you doing out there?"

Izzy peers into the car. "How did you get to the front seat, Bonnet?"

"Crawled."

"Why?"

Stede pauses. "I'm not sure. I think I was still half asleep."

"Well, I'm in trouble for daring to eat in a stopped vehicle," Izzy mutters. "Asshole has been over at his car for ages now, 'checking documentation.' Surprised he didn't ask for-"

"Sir?" the cop trundles over. "I'm gonna need the paperwork for everyone in the car, and I've called a drug dog as I have reason to suspect you might be carrying something we don't want in this state."

Izzy gestures to Stede. "See?"

Stede clambers out of the driver's side door awkwardly to stand by Izzy. "Let me handle this! Sir, sir! I need to speak with you about this before you escalate things!"

The cop turns to them. "I'm escalating things?! Who the fuck even are you; where did you come from?"

Stede scoffs. "The car! Where else? Now this is a silly misunderstanding and I want this resolved!"

The cop blinks, then smirks with a lick of his lips. "Everyone out of the car."

"What?" Stede asks, clearly aghast.

"OUT OF THE CAR, NOW!"

"What did you two do?" Ed asks groggily as everyone makes a half asleep panic dash out of the car.

"I was eating," Izzy replies. It's not a lie.

"I got out of the car," Stede says.

Also not a lie.

Ed frowns. "I don't believe either of you, but I'm too cold and tired to dig into this. Can we just bribe him and leave?"

"Ed!" Stede hisses, then pauses. "Oh. You did read about that being done in the States now and again, didn't you?"

"I did. We don't plan to come back here, right?"

"Absolutely not," Izzy says, before Stede can make any differing plans for them.

"Then let's try it," Ed sighs, arms wrapped around himself in his oversized hoodie. "I want to go back to sleep. At this rate, I might be doing that in a jail cell no matter what."

Stede is the one to step forward, a couple of hundreds in his palm. "Um. Sir?"

Ten minutes later, they're a few hundred poorer and back on the road.

"Thank fuck that worked," Ed sighs in the backseat, snuggled against Wee John and Frenchie. "Now hopefully he doesn't realise those are the fakes Frenchie made up."

Stede, now up front in the passenger seat beside Izzy, shoots him a look.

Izzy presses the gas pedal slightly harder, and focuses on how many miles are left to get them out of North Dakota.

"Why is this place so much?" The Swede mutters. "Too much land."

"Too much to drive across," Izzy agrees. "They all out again?"

The Swede nods towards the backseat. "Think the food at the diner did it. So much food..."

"Stede wants us to experience the richness of the country," Izzy sighs. "And that was all certainly rich."

"He kept the leftovers in the cooler," The Swede mutters. "I can't. Maybe tomorrow I could try more, but I don't think I'll even be hungry for dinner."

"Buttons will eat whatever the rest of us can't," Izzy says. "Buttons with his iron stomach."

There's a tense pause, and Izzy instinctively slows the car just slightly.

"About to be sick?" The Swede asks. "Me too."

"Yup, give me a second to get us pulled off the road."

"We've decided on Washington!" Ed announces. "For sure this time."

"Please," Izzy mutters. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, you can put this town into the GPS," Stede adds, handing over a sticky note with a hastily scribbled name on it.

"This isn't in Washington," Izzy says. "This is in Oregon."

"Portland?" Stede wrinkles his nose. "No, we have it right."

"There was some sketch show literally set there," Jim says. "With the town name in the show name. That made clear the town is in Oregon."

"Was it any good?" Roach asks.

"I'm curious too," Stede says.

"Look," Izzy says, just loud enough to be heard over the beginning din. "I will drive to one state. Choose one. Google the fucking city and make sure of where it is. Otherwise I decide which city we stop at."

"Geez, fine Dad," Frenchie snorts. "Will you turn the car around next?"

"Yeah," Izzy whips around in his seat to stare Frenchie down. "Yeah. I fuckin' will. And then we'll have to spend another fucking...I don't even know how many hours in this car!"

He regrets it immediately. "Fuck. Frenchie, I'm sorry. And Bonnet-"

"No," Stede hesitates. "This was maybe too much all at once."

"No, it," Izzy splutters. "It... I'm just tired."

"I think we all are," Fang says softly. "Why don't we find an actual hotel instead of sleeping in the car, and start fresh tomorrow?"

"I can cover it," Izzy says, and puts the car back into gear before anyone can argue. Normally he'd have no wish to stay any longer in a place as bland as Idaho, but desperate times and desperate measures.

"Izzy," Stede sighs. "What is this I hear about you not buying yourself a room?"

"I'm good in the car," Izzy says through a mouthful of stale danish stolen from an ice cold brunch platter in the hotel lobby. "I haven't gotten to fully lay down in the backseat once yet. I'm excited for it."

"You're not serious."

"As serious as I am about stealing the rest of these when the clerk goes back into their office," Izzy gestures towards the remaining four danishes. "Fucking starving."

"I noticed you didn't eat much at the last drive thru," Stede says, arms crossed, bouncing lightly on his feet. "What's that about?"

"Only had time for a bite if we wanted to stay on schedule," Izzy replies. "And I wasn't going to try and eat in the car again after that last incident."

"Come on," Stede holds out his hand. "You accidentally got Ed and I a room with two queens."

"So long as you two are in there, yeah."

Stede snorts. "Well, we need a third one in there with us."

"You're okay sharing a bed with me?"

"What on earth do you mean?" Stede asks. "Ed-"

"Likes to sprawl out. And hasn't been able to for days on end. I got you two beds in the room for a reason."

"He'll end up on one alone, stretched out every which way," Stede says. "Never mind, good call."

"You still want to share with me?"

"I am not letting you sleep in the car," Stede replies, and snags his hand. "Forget the danishes. I told the clerk to switch out your credit card for mine for the rest of the charges on our room. They have room service until midnight, and it's only ten right now..."

"You'll spoil me," Izzy chuckles, but he's happily surprised. "I am sorry. About the thing in the car. This hasn't been all bad by any stretch."

"Yeah, but it has been...intense," Stede says as they wait for an elevator. "Maybe next trip, we pick one city and stay there for a week, hm?"

"Where do you have in mind?"

"I don't know. New Orleans?"

"It'll either be amazing or a complete disaster," Izzy says. "As long as someone else does more of the driving, I'll go."

"Good," Stede grins as they step into the first elevator and head up to the twelfth floor. "It might be an amazing disaster, you know."

"True," Izzy smiles.

"I was planning to give Ed a blowjob in Storyville, so long as I can find an appropriate place for it," Stede continues, leading Izzy out of the elevator and towards their room. "I'd love to do the same for you."

"What?"

"Iz!" Ed shouts as Stede opens the door. "I'm glad you listened to him and came up!"

"Did you hear him?" Izzy asks.

"About the blowjobs? Yeah," Ed smiles. "Come lay down! We've got bad movies to watch and room service to order."

"Okay," Izzy lets the tension flow out of his shoulders for the first time in days. "That all sounds good...blowjob included."

"This," Izzy sighs. "Isn't bad at all."

"That's it?" Ed giggles. "Poetry, Iz."

"Shush," Izzy scolds him playfully, tucked against him by Ed's arm around his waist.

On his other side is Bonnet, taking in the view of the sea from the grass and rocks near West Point Lighthouse.

"It was worth it," Frenchie says as he and Wee John pass by them to head back closer to the lighthouse. "By the way. Thanks for this, Stede."

"And Izzy, for doing so much driving!" Stede adds as they walk away. "Ah. Sorry about that."

"S'alright," Izzy says. "I know they're glad they didn't have to do much of it."

"I know it's sort of cold," Ed says. "But you guys wanna sit here for a little bit longer?"

Stede nods. "Everyone is either doing the same or wandering it seems. I think we have the time."

They carefully settle themselves down onto the ground, before resuming their previous snuggle.

"I know we had planned to fly out in the next day or so," Izzy says. "But maybe we stay an extra few days."

"I told you he was still having fun," Ed faux whispers and gently jabs Stede. "See?"

"I think that would be lovely," Stede smiles. "We'll get some hotel rooms and make another few days of it here."

Izzy nods and lets himself fully relax into Ed, listening to the crash of the waves.

#text post #ofmd fic #this...was not supposed to get this long #I've been working on it for three days when i wanted it done in an hour when i first started it #anyway!!!#steddyhands #by the end at least lol #i will get this up on my ao3 too just probably not anymore tonight nabsjfnf

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liliesandparchment · 1 year

Text

Bridgerton AU 02x08 onwards: Part 2

~Anthony~

He couldn’t stop.

He couldn’t still.

Images kept flashing across his eyes and he tried uselessly to stop the onslaught on his mind – he pressed the heel of his palms into his eyes even as he paced a hole into Lady Danbury’s beautiful auburn carpet outside Kate’s room –

No, he should leave, he should have left long ago. It was his fault this was happening, his fault she could be dying right now –

He heaved a desperate breath, trying to ignore the strangled sound his throat had made that had sounded suspiciously like a sob, and dragged his eyes open even as his hands found neurotic purchase in his hair. His blurred vision detected someone moving towards him and he felt his brother’s hand close around his arm with surprising rigidity.

He belatedly recognized the aborted thumping near him as Lady Danbury’s cane and his stomach swooped again – he struggled out of Benedict’s grip and abruptly pulled himself free as he realized he was being lead away from the her room – the wrong side of the corridor –

He couldn’t be so far from her – not now, not now that she could – any moment –

“Anthony!” Benedict reached for him stubbornly again, his voice filled with surprise and something else – something stiff, and brittle and resolute –

“Anthony, look at me!” His brother pulled harshly and Anthony could barely look at his face – he couldn’t handle Benedict’s judgment on top of it all – Benedict, who had always been forced to witness him fail and fail and fail because of how uncomfortably close he was thrust to Anthony when they had been forced to grow up so so fast so cruelly – no, he couldn’t meet his eyes today, not when Kate was – she was close to being –

“It is my fault. I have done this. I cannot – ”

He choked on his words as he felt Benedict direct his face towards him with both hands, forcing him to witness his brother’s confused, anguished face, his father’s jaw forming the words, his father’s forehead – the exact same shape, wrinkled with worry about him – him who didn’t deserve an ounce of it –

“I do not know what you have done or what you think you have done. But spiraling into guilt about it will not help her now. Let the Doctor do his job and come and wait with me. Calm yourself, brother, and let us take up Lady Danbury’s kind offer of a drink while we wait for news on the condition of her house guest, yes?”

He blinked as he slowly pulled away from Benedict and noticed Lady Danbury a ways behind, a look of abject pity on her face. He felt heat rise in his face as he spied Edwina and Mary’s twin forms behind her and stepped back immediately, tightening his hold on Benedict’s arms for support as he felt a distant swaying in his body. He looked away resolutely, fixing his gaze on one of the curtains hiding the windows. It was still raining outside – he could hear it, along with the murmur of vague sounds from her room behind him. There were no servants rushing about to distract anyone from his embarrassing lack of decorum, or manner, or honor, or sanity in the face of –

He turned away from everyone as quickly and with as much dignity as he could manage to muster in the circumstances. He wiped his face of the wetness he did not dare examine, strugging to breathe deeply, forcing his lungs to work even as his body protested – he didn’t deserve to breathe freely while her fate hung in the balance. No, he shook his head harshly – he had to calm himself and ensure he behaved, lest Lady Danbury kick him out for – well, she had a lot of reasons stacked up against him by now, probably.

Her pity soured something in him and Benedict’s fear for him curdled it into something uglier – his mind sharpened despite itself, if only to coax them he had to grab a hold of his sensibilities. No matter how much he felt like running off outside or drowning himself in something – anything – or jumping off a cliff – or ripping himself to shreds on the jagged edges of her beautiful broken form –

He could not be weak.

Not today. Not here.

To Suspend Time - Find full version on AO3 here. Thank you for reading!💝✨

#bridgerton #bridgerton season two #bridgerton au #anthony bridgerton is a mess #anthony bridgerton #kate sharma's accident #kate sharma #kate sheffield #benedict bridgerton #edwina sharma #mary sheffield #lady danbury #fanfiction #one shot #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fic

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jaewrotethis · 1 year

Text

6- Fire Escape...

Friday

The last few days blended in a blur. A messy, nonsense wash of a blur. Days became a work of autopilot, turned on and flying through the hours for me. Uneventful for the most part. Sleep seemed to be forgotten, and only hit when I let it happen, losing the fight. My mind is tired, I am like a zombie just walking through every day one at a time and by the end of the week I can’t place what happened when. I am able to recall few highlights, but unable to find when they took place. Which event went where, I’ll never know.

The highlights I could remember fixated on reading through the books I took, eating, taking very, very long showers, and killing every thought of the demon or the boy. I had wanted to focus on a plan to run away from Mother. But the week slipped from my fingers. I had the dream of the land every night. Only the boy was gone. It was as if the boy was cut completely from the scene, everything else played out identical before he showed up and after he jumped off the cliff. I woke every morning from this dream picking a book at random and reading it, only stopping to use the bathroom or eat when I remembered to.

I’ve just finished my last book. Gone through each of them multiple times and learned so much, more than needed. It’s Friday night and my brain, exhausted. My eyes ache to rest and my body begs to sleep. I stack the book gently on my desk, planning to return them tomorrow. With my distraction called ‘reading’ finished, the anxiety takes it’s chance. Lost in the debate of what was real and what wasn’t had become a deep treacherous trench determined to swallow me whole into utter darkness of mislead and undecided insanity. With my distraction finished, I stand on the edge of the trench, looking doing into with my breathe stuck in my throat. From a single sprout of anxiety, every nerve in my body nudges me closer and closer to the forbidden edge.

My eyes glance over to the window. Half open, no demon. I’ve seen it all week. As if it’s checking up on me throughout the days but refusing to be clearly visible, not that I’d let it. The daring part of my heart wishes my brain to search for it, to just give it a chance to show itself to my wide eyed full attention. A part dominate enough to overpower the anxiousness and walk my feet closer to the edge of the horrid trench and over to the window to see whatever I will see. I stand in front of the glass gazing down at the fire escape then up into the sky. My eyes scan every inch possible. Every shadow, every window, every piece of sky. No demon. I blink realizing I hadn’t been this whole time and being reminded that my eyes beg by burning to sleep. I stalk back to bed. Slowly, the tips of my fingers reach to flick off the light then slip my aching figure under the covers, quietly. Sleep grabs me before I can exhale the breath I didn’t know I was holding.

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

I swing my feet over the bed sitting up, my eyes automatically going to the clock. 3:16am. I sit with my light violet night gown draping over my feet that now rest on the floor. I hold my face in my hands with my elbows to my thighs for support as my limb tingle with sleep. My fingers rub at my eyes to waken me up. There was no dream tonight. I woke for no reason except to feel restless.

Rubbing my eyes, my fingertips feel my eyelashes until I drag my hands down my face and passed my nose. My fingers stop at my chin when my eyes find the open window. I don’t know why I was expecting to see the spirit, even more so, I don’t know why I feel disappointed when it’s not there. I supposed since I didn’t open the window as far as it is, I was hoping the demon had done it. I settle for believing that I just can’t find the memory of opening it that wide. The fake belief is followed by another one; thinking that the polluted city air could be refreshing. I pull on my thin, dark purple sweater and click the single gold button closed at my chest. I climb out my window, placing my socks on the cold, black fire escape. The cool morning wind brushes through me behind the bright lights of London.

A thin alley, littered with dumpsters and stray cats, sits under my window view, created with a short building beside mine. The lights over the short building extend as the busy jungle of a city it is. The jungles biggest trees sit as skyscrapers that are lit up in the distance. Scattered with traffic lights and the red and white lines of cars lacing through out every block is the jungle floor. Spread all the way out to the horizon, the jungle called a city sits in the morning dew for me to see.

Sleep is a ghost haunting the back of my eyes as they drop low and gaze downward to the small building in front of me. Impulsive thoughts that I would never listen to tell me to jump for the rooftop of the smaller building, just to see if I’d make it as it is only two windows down. Unfocused go my eyes as the ghost of sleep creeps closer, not caring for my shivering or loss of feeling in my legs. The ghost watches me while I don’t sense the time pass, too much to keep track but not enough to allow the sun to rise. My play pretend surfaces as my heavy eyes drop, leaving me sitting in the cold with a dream behind my gaze.

The dream of being somewhere else. Pretending I’m on the land from the dreams. In a tree, on a mountain, alone and peaceful. My mind turns the traffic noises into a natural breeze in treetops. The vision in my head convinces me that the hard fire escape underneath me is nothing more than a peaceful tree branch. Nothing matters here. No one is trying to gain anything from me here. Nothing means anything here.

I sit there, in my head, staying in my play pretend. My mind conjures a fake dream, a day dream real enough to convince my body to fall into sleep. And when I try ending the day dream and opening my eyes, I find it is not in my power anymore. Confusion laces with a soft panic when I can’t open my eyes and I realize I’ve slipped into the first stage of lucid dreaming. The stage of being aware that the body is sleeping. My eyes refuse against me to obey and it suddenly feels like I’m not in this world anymore. In my minds eye I’ve pushed out the day dream to see myself on the fire escape. I view from above, somehow seeing myself leaning against the ladder. To snap out of the paralysis I force a focus on the feeling of the hard ladder underneath me but the harder I focus the more I lose contact with it. Confusion spreads faster as I slip further from consciousness, the view of myself blackening. And as I lose sight of myself I lose comprehension of what is around me.

The little consciousness I have left pulls me to the decision that I don’t like this feeling at all. It’s impossible to understand what’s happening around me, inside of me and my head. The unknown is as out of control as I feel. The only feeling of the outside world left is the cold morning air somehow evolving to make me feel as if I’m nowhere. Then suddenly, a shift in the world of confusing, swaying, darkness. I feel what’s left over of my conscious world move. Beginning now is my hard fight to open my eyes, to move a muscle, or waken myself, but my fight only benefits the annoying swaying. The breath in my lungs whispers to my minds eye as the fire escape beneath me seems to vanish completely.

This must be the part where I dream, I think to myself between cursing at the swaying.

I wait for the island to appear. Or for the water to spawn below me as I fly over it. I wait for the dizzy feeling of being lifted from the physical world to end but it doesn’t. If anything it intensifies once I feel a force under me. A strong force under my head and another under my legs. Some pressure on my side. Frustratingly, my fight continues as I try jerking myself awake. I throw bursts of energy out to my limbs trying to wake myself and snap out of the sleep trance.

Fuck...wake up!

Focusing on a single thought is impossible while the spinning grows worse by the second. Mornings cold air disappears and is replaced with warmth. The change in temperature kicks the sides of my brain expanding the dizzy taking over my brain. All the while my consciousness slips further and further with a warm but dizzy fuzz. Coming in and out with startles and twitches, still trying to wake up, to win the fight. My minds ear picks up a sound when the wind from the morning outside disappears and in its place; soft footsteps on carpet. My thoughts shouting all at once I can’t hear a single one.

Sleepwalking!

Wake up!

I’m sleeping-

I’m sleep walking.

Wake up-

Am I sleep walking?

Wake the fuck up!

Help me!

This trance between sleep and awake, this lucid dreaming feels too familiar to the paralysis when I took the sleeping pills. What an evil thing it is to be awake on some level and not all levels. No control to wake myself, no clue of what I’m in contact, and only able to hear myself screaming to awaken. Until, suddenly, without warning, the swaying stops. Gravity allows me to feel my own weight dropping down and all I sense is clouds beneath my backside. The cloud presses the back of my legs first, going up until I’m cloud bedded head to toe. And yet, the dizziness and drowsy confusion continue to spin around in my head as I endlessly try win my fight by pulling myself from sleep. I would grow angry if anger was an option, which apparently, between sleep and awake, in this unconscious plane of awareness, it is not. I just need to yell in frustration over the swimming confusion in my brain, but instead I hear my own voice. A small half-sleeping mewl escapes my lips.

I’ve scored a point in my fight as I think I might’ve just rolled over but it’s impossible to be certain. Alertness becomes just a tad more present, strengthening the little bit of awareness I had left. The fuzzy confusion turning down just a notch. I tell my fingers to twitch. My battle plan is to start with my fingers and toes, working up to kick my legs and thrash my arms until I wake. I feel my eyebrows knot in a struggle to wake up. I feel my nose crinkle as I’m trying to reconnect with my sense.

Suddenly, there’s a crash in the world outside of my sleep paralysis. And I know exactly what it was. The small pile of records I had on my floor next to the window, just fell over in a crash. It was just enough to erase the rest of the annoying, dizzy paralysis. I jolt up, snapping open my eyes, panting, gasping from the new mobility.

The first thing I’m fully aware of is that I’m now in my room, in bed. Everything is dark except for the small light that creeps from my window, giving me a second for my vision to clear. By the time my feet have touched the floor, my vision makes sense, I’ve checked the clock quickly then looked up. 4:29am and I see him.

The boy.

For the first real time, I see all of him. No half glance just opening my eyes, no blurry vision of a dream. I get a good enough look to determine that everything I have been seeing is real. Every time, real. I was wrong to convince myself that it was ‘strong imagination’, no, it’s all real.

He holds one foot in the air over my spilled pile of records. He has knocked them over in his haste to exit through the window, it seems. His facial expression reads ‘shit’ as his eyes meet mine the moment I sit up gasping. He wears green, brown, and black. His pants are brown, his shirt and small hat atop his head, a dark green. The cuffs on his forearms, his boots, his vest, all brown. Black stitching and black outlining of his shirt and pants. Just like the dream, it’s obvious his clothes were made by his hand and have been through a lot. My eyes rake all over him wanting to see him for real, before he’s gone again. To see what I had been missing in dreams. To see the proof I’ve so badly needed to know I’m not insane. I want answers. Questions and a strong, strong sense of curiosity explode in my head.

What happened?

I was on the fire escape.

He flew. Did he really fly?

How did he fly?

Why was he in my dreams?

What does it mean?

How did he shoot into the sky?

Who is he?

The second voice pinning questions on my questions in my head as well. I gaze my eyes on him now as it sets in. It’s completely real, all of it. Him. The dreams. The spirit.

“Whoa,” very faintly slipped out from my lips.

He slowly lowers his foot and begins to relax. Our eyes stay on each others. He looks almost frightened but then shifts to a look of withdrawal. More so as if he’d been taken aback then recovered to be anxious. Those piercing eyes of his look curious. Very curious like he’s pondering a new world entirely. Though it was brief and our encounter did not last longer than a few seconds, I knew my whole life had just completely changed.

“I...you?” I don’t know which question of the hundreds I’m trying to form but I tilt my head, with a questionable face, looking back and forth to him from the window.

Is this real?

Am I having another episode?

How did he get here?

What is he doing here?

Who is he?

The quiet and curious stares do not last long as a bright yellow light takes both our attention. Something alike a small, bright and yellow light bulb was mobile zipping through the air in front of him to park behind his shoulder. The small light just barely peeking over, I could swear it’s meaning to stare at me. The boys eyes read me intensely when I carefully stand and begin walking to him with caution like he might disappear any second. He suddenly seems to snap into a defensive character and takes a step back, the small light staying by his side.

Then the boys head perked up convincing me he heard it before it even happened. I had put my hand up show tell him it’s ok when a door slams in the apartment. My spine shakes with sharp shivers. I know exactly which door it was. It was Mother’s bedroom door.

She can’t be awake this early.

As soon as the door slammed the floor thumps loudly with her footsteps. Loud stomping, like Mother-pissed-off stomping. I turn around to face the door the instant I hear it slam. The boys attention drawn to where mine is. The loud stomping headed straight for my room. I panic. My blood heats and jumps in my veins along with my heart.

Oh, my God!

I’m never afraid of her, especially her loud footsteps. I turn back toward him. He’s out the window, just landing on the fire escape astonishingly quickly in only a second. Definitely nonhuman. The second voice begins to shrieks in my head.

Our escape! Don’t let him leave! He is answers!

“Wait!” I shout after him, not wanting him to be gone again.

He paused just for one second to throw words at me. “Your name.”

He shows me his voice for the first time, sounding full of wonder and adrenaline. I open my mouth to speak my name within a split second after his question but my bedroom door hits the back of the wall, loudly banging wide open.

“Jane!” Mother screams as the door flies open.

A gust of icy air hits me as I spin around so quickly out of fear I get dizzy. Mother stands in my door. Hair crazy, pajamas and orange robe sloppy, face full of rage.

Why are you so damn terrified?

I turn back around to face the boy quicker than before. He’s gone. Empty window letting cold air flow in. I look back at Mother, slowly this time and with growing rage clenching my jaw.

“What the hell are you doing up in the middle of your room?” She shouts at me.

I’m overwhelmed with rage.

I am not dealing with her bi polar shit right now, this is important. I think, wanting to say it out loud to her.

Four in the morning and she just comes busting in, yelling? We finally saw him for real! He was real! She spoiled it! That was our only chance.

“If I were asleep, you’d just come in screaming like that,” my voice groggy but my anger keeps it raised and fearless.

“What have I told you about your window? What’s it doing open this late?” She storms in and shoves me aside.

Her hard thrust at me infuriates me more. I stumble back, catching myself lightly on the bed then push off quickly. She goes up to my window and slams it shut, then turns towards me. I notice her face is red, very red.

“Planning to jump? Attempt number two?”

What’s with all the questions?

Her voice is angry. She speaks with force and brute without giving me a chance to speak.

“I got a call. From work. I’m leaving. You’ll be here with Derrick for a few days, I don’t want any complaints. You are to go to college, come home, then repeat till I get back. Take your meds and keep your shitty teenage attitude to yourself, do not give him a hard time. And no crazy shit, either, I mean it, Skitz,” she then pulls out a cigarette from her pocket and lights it.

You’re going to let her talk us like that?

“Of course, not. Lord forbid I talk back to Mother’s favorite boy toy,” I say doing my best to keep a monotone. “What did you call him?” she shows her teeth like a dog. “He supports this family and treats us better than your father ever did. Don’t you talk bad about him, child, he’s your fuckin’ dad. You can take all your petty issues out on the doctor, when I give a ring.” Her voice is loud, she takes a drag.

Petty issues?

She’s a shit mother.

She needs to know it.

We’re going back anyway.

The hell we are, we’re running away.

I’m leaving.

“You call this a family? You’re only here to sleep, when you’re not on your pills fucking your friends for a paycheck! You think you’re safe? You think we don’t know a thing,” I pause so that I can scare her.

I know she’s afraid of something. Something that she think I may know and it scared her to her core. And though I have no idea what it is, I bluff to hurt her.

“You were always gonna send me back either way, because you don’t want me spilling,” I spit the last word and her eyes widen.

She freezes in complete fear, a look I eat up. I continue, “Don’t worry, I won’t be here long enough, you want me gone so badly, I’m gone. But you wouldn’t even notice, would you? Just like you don’t notice the women your infidel husband brings into-”

Fist to my cheek. Other to my chin. I taste copper. Crouched over, she takes a cheap shot at my side. It knocks me over to my palms and knees. The layer of bruises has barely begun to change color, healing well, she just set them back by weeks. I clench my jaw till it hurts. I force a breathy laugh out to distract from the pain just for now.

“I don’t know where this rebellious behavior is coming from but I’m long ago sick of it, you can pack your things right now, we’re leaving to Bromley when that sun gets up,” she speaks low, leaning down to speak in my face.

Her words are like poison. She isn’t yelling but each word slits deep into my soul like she’s writing my death sentence. And yet all I can stay focused on is the boy. It hasn’t been that long, he could still be near by. The longer she is here, the further my opportunity for answers slips away.

I look up at her, afraid of more pain in my sides. I stand fully as she walks away. I’m so angry, so done with her threats, so upset that she blew my chance at answers. I don’t control my hands when they come up and shove her hard, right between her shoulder blades. She almost hits the floor, face first, but instead catches herself and turns to face me. A look of bewilderment on her face. I bring my fist up and hit her on her cheek, as hard as I can, knowing I’ll only get one strike before she puts me down again. And as good as it felt, as long as I had been wanting and waiting to do that, it was a mistake I never made again.

She comes back with hard hit. Her fist was closed, and it hurts the worst yet. A tough, forceful fist, angry too, enough so to knock me right back down to my hands and knees, head spinning. Pain rings through my right temple. A small yelp of being struck comes from my throat just before my knees hit the carpet. I push my hands off the ground, wanting to stand quickly, but my head falls forward, the room spinning around me. My shoulders shake.

“How dare you try to touch me! I’m your mother!”

Her face is flushed, she’s panting. Her cigarette gone. She turns her back to me again and walks to the door, standing in the threshold. I barely stand, she glares at me. My head rings, I’m not recovering from her last hit, the pain getting worse. If I push her any more, I’m sure she’ll shove me right out the window.

“You remember, I’m the sane one here. I’m stable, I say what goes. And I say you threw away your last chance. I’m in charge here, Skitz, and your time is up.”

I hold my breath at the thought of driving back to the asylum.

Something inside of me snaps again, “Fucking go already! Go screw your friends to get the rent! You never could hide a thing, you’ve got nothing to show for your shitty life except me,” I swirl my finger at my ear, “and your cheating husband,”

“Shut up, Jane! I’ll put you right back in Bromley, I swear, you say one more thing I’ll-”

“You’ll hit me again? Do it! It’s been a long time since I’ve felt anything because of you. You’re a goddamn lunatic to toss me away just to protect yourself. You’ve fucked up my life and your own, and I hate you for it.”

Before I can finish my last words, she’s running at me. I brace for impact. And impact came hard with her first move to grab my shoulder in her claws and yank me forward. As I trip into her embrace she rams her other fist into my gut. I choke on air, cutting my throat. Vomit threatening to spew out. I put my hands up block her, to spare any pain but her fist comes up too fast and socks me in the face. When I hit the floor, yet again, she kicks my chest down. My head rams into the floor, ringing again. I can barely cough when she grabs at my shirt to lift me up, then smashes me back into the floor. She throws punch after blow, kick after punt, screaming as she beats me.

“Pyshco!”

“Mental excuse for a daughter!”

“Fucking brain sick!”

“Demented!”

“Broken idiot!”

“Sick ape!”

Her fists fly into my sides and face. She even gets my throat pretty bad, and doesn’t hold back her foot from kicking my forever bruised ribs. It doesn’t last long, but when she’s done I know she’s left her mark. I’ll be bruised for weeks to come. And I have nothing else to say to her. Choking on my tongue, holding my aching cranium but not the hot tears leaking from the corners of my eyes. Even my heart hurts now. I trusted this woman once...never again.

She gets up panting, “You little shit. You’re remarkably insane to think you aren’t going back to Bromley now,” she slams my door shut and I hear it lock.

I push myself up with my shaking hands. “Shit,” I breathe, knowing I just fucked myself over.

I feel nauseous with pain. Stumbling, trying to focus my vision, pain filling every inch she touched, I fall onto my door. The knob doesn’t turn. It’s locked.

How’d she lock it from the outside?

I bang on the door. Holding my torso with one arm, feeling like I might psychically fall apart.

“Mum! Open the door, let me out!” I slam my fist on the wood. “Mum!” I shout.

I press my ear to the door to listen. Only silence.

“Fine, keep me locked up! Nothing new!...Psycho bitch,”

I punch the door hard on my last words, so angry the tears doubling in size as my emotions are spiraling. I back way. I need to breathe. I can’t see straight. She messed me up worse than the man in the alley. My fresh lesions ache, feeling more severe by the second.

You see what this crazy bitch does to us? She kicks our ass while calling US the crazy ones, for no-

“Shut up! This is your fault, you pushed her!” My voice cracks with tears as I shout at the empty room.

I’ve never felt so alone, I cry holding myself. I suppose the girls in the asylum will sympathize with me. I grab my head. The aching pounds with each rapid heart beat. Lonely, sad, angry tears burn my eyes with loneliness. The pain is too much in my head, I throw my fists down, growling angrily.

“Fuck this,”

I turn around and snatch my bag from under my desk. I grab sloppily at things to throw inside of it, eyes full of tears. Nose running and sweat forming.

I didn’t do anything, that was coming the minute she woke up.

When I shut the bag I consider shoes, but my throbbing head urges me to leave before she comes back and grabbing what I did has wasted too much time already. I climb through my window not stopping, convinced completely that there is no time. The morning is owned by darkness still. The wind blows strong and icy, but fills my pounding head with a short ease. My sweater flaps around me, my nightgown whipping at my ankles over my gray socks. I place the strap of my bag across my chest grabbing hold of the cold fire escape railing.

Just tuck and roll.

I shake my head at the annoying girl talking to me. She’s never helpful. Never. Just stressful and only stressful. I want to leave her here in this room and start a new, once I get away. The cold forces shivers into my body on top of the shivers from the incident that just went down. Cold or adrenaline, it doesn’t matter and it doesn’t stop me from climbing over the bars to stand on the outside of the railing. The wind tries knocking me back blowing my hair in my face. More shivers echo from my skeleton when I measure the ground 80 feet down easily. My grip tightens on the cold steel, holding me in place. Fear pricks my mind, begging me not to jump.

Don’t think.

I hold my bag to my chest with one hand leaving the cold bar. I take a deep breath. The cold shocking the fear away from my heart...and I jump.

I kick off the black bars jumping as far as I can, aiming for the roof of the smaller building that my impulse thoughts had dared me to do something I would never do. Just a couple floors beneath me, I throw all my faith into the air with my body, regretting absolutely nothing. That is, until I land.

My landing isn’t graceful, or pleasant. I should’ve known that height was too high but getting the hell away from Mother was an urge too strong to care. The roof of the smaller building comes closer and I plan to curl into a roll on impact. The maneuver is harder than it looks and when my feet smash into the rooftop my ankle bends from impact, taking all damage. Only then do I roll into the floor and when I do, I feel bruises form on my bruises. My right arm reacting to the pain, all the way up to my shoulder, from the roll. My shoulders, back and legs slam with agony when I fail to land correctly.

When I stop rolling and grunting in pain I come up on my side, winded. I wheeze and cough until I can breathe again. Tears from being freaked out leak down my cheeks as the hot white pain in my ankle burns. I sit up, taking a moment to make sure I’m ok. Rubbing my shoulder that took damage with the hand that hurts less. My face twisted with pain, I’ve forgotten all about the cold. I look behind me, up at my window, it’s two windows up. I breathe through the pain, forcing my lungs to laugh. Its a fake laugh, full of air and bullshit. But it works when the pain is distracted and subsides the more I pretend giggle.

I didn’t think you had it in you! She sounds too excited.

And it hurts like a bitch. I rub my shoulder more, dropping my head with my eyes closed, not recovering well.

I exhale with sore pain, crying just a little bit more then remembering that I had convinced myself I have no time and I need to get up. I need to run. Run far away and fast.

But we’re out now…

I look up at the city around me, miles and miles of world all around me. Nothing to stop me from picking a direction and just going. No walls, no doors, no gates or fences, or restraints. The entire world just waking up, waiting for me. I can’t stop the smile and I don’t want to. A real smile, followed by a short, but very real, laugh. Suddenly my tears aren’t from pain anymore.

I place my hands on the gritty rooftop and get to my feet, feeling my muscles hurt in my torso and legs. I find my ankle that broke the fall is not able to support my weight in the slightest. My ankle is completely useless. Hands on my knees, I take one more second to recover. Just another fight to win begins as I do my best to ignore the pain, wincing and wobbling to the other edge of the rooftop. Away from the window I jumped from. Away from the monster called Mother and away from the hell of a future she had all control over.

The wind is freezing and very strong, making my fight difficult just to get to the other side of the rooftop. I walk passed the door to enter the building, wanting to see the dark city before I head down. I finally make to the ledge on the other side, avoiding putting any weight on my ankle. Carefully, I lift myself to stand on the ledge, scanning over the city. The jungle below me sits still in the dark morning, twinkling bright with colors.

My limbs ache in sore warmth and painful despair simulates throughout every inch that took impact from the jump and Mother’s beating. Mother broke my heart. I miss my brother. Loneliness never felt so defeating until thoughts of him come to mind. I hate the world. I hate the world for taking him when I need him so terribly. I hate everything and everyone. The cold, thick gusts whip my hair and my loose clothes all around me. My balance isn’t great, on one foot but I stand as still as the city, just a few inches from the edge of the building. Another tear rolls down my cheek then I realize what’s happening.

The wave is crashing. Of both terrible attack, the depression state rolls up thickly as a wave of despair and deep, deep lonely pain. There is to time to stop it, as it crept up unnoticed due to the cold and aches of bruising. It rips through my chest in a numbing ripple, echoing through out every cell, every thought and emotion, attacking me until everything goes limp. The wave knocks me off my feet but because I was unbalanced on the ledge, I fall off the building.

“No!” I hear a shout.

A projected yell of full panic. Pure terror in that shout strong enough to force the wave to disappear completely. I snap out of the depressed state for the first time ever and into realization of the now.

Oh, my god!

What happened?

It just happened. Completely out of my control. I was engulfed and lost in a sadness so thick, so defeating that it took limb function from me and I fall to my death in an instant. My eyes widen with panic and I gasp at the ground speeding towards me.

Nasty polluted air is the last thing we breathe.

I blink in fear, unable to process thought of death. I close my eyes from the shock.

Inhale...ex-

Something snatches me. I snap open my eyes, my heart spiking to my throat. One millisecond falling, the next arms under my own. The ground stretching away from me, my feet swinging under me. On survival instinct alone I snatch back at the arms that grabbed me, that saved me. The repeating thought of death finally able to proceed into comprehending. I look up. The boy had caught me. 20 feet from death on the concrete, the boy in green had caught me.

It’s impossible to tear my eyes off of the boy as he flies us back to the rooftop. I cannot tear my eyes from him not to see the windows loudly zip passed underneath us, or the ground seep further away, and certainly not to see the sunlight just beginning to crawl into the sky. To discover if I’ve gone insane or not is beyond all comprehension. The cold, cold wind pulls at my hair and skin, beginning to allow the shock to take over.

I don’t feel the shift of weight until my feet touch the rooftop and when I do it falls on me. The sense of gravity tilts backward on me the second the boy takes his hand off me and I tilt with it. Unable to reconnect with the sense of balance. I barely catch myself before he tries to, nauseous air fills my stomach. I exhale loudly, failing to understand that I was just airborne. It’s harder than I ever thought it could be. A constant ache in my brain asking if I’m crazy, if I’m imagining it. The cold rooftop immediately sinking through my gray socks, the painful reminder that my ankle can’t hold any weight rings up my leg, through my stomach and bruised ribs. It scurries quickly up to my throat to shout at him.

“Who are you?” my eyes wide, heart racing.

“Jane!”

Before he can answer, a loud man shout of my name rings from the wind above. I watch the boy hear it before it even happened but still it doesn’t stop the jump that forces the strong wince. His eyes move straight to the window I jumped from, before the StepDad even shouted. I look up to the window with him seeing the StepDad standing on the fire escape staring at us with a look of pure rage. His hands gripping the black bar in front of him.

Shit. Not now, not again.

The shock still ringing my entire skin stiff, my jaw clamps tightly shut with dreadful fear. I clutch my stomach to stop the shivering though it doesn’t work. I duck behind the huge white pipes on the rooftop yelling at the boy as I do so.

“Get down!”

My teeth shatter, but the loud winds take over the entire roof tops. We crouch behind the white pipes and I find this interaction with him is something I’ve never had before. It’s a closeness of almost contact that I’m a stranger to and unsure how to react to it. He’s too close for comfort but the cold, cold shock would never let comfort be an option anyway. So I remain mind struck at the boy, and the fact that he IS real. I know for sure now, this unreal adrenaline could never fake that flight. He is a real person with real abilities. His dark hat and thick clothes whip along his tinted skin through the heavy wind. His cut hair is dark brown and short, stuffed into the hat.

“Who is that?” he asks me.

His voice is strong. No fear, or uncertainty at all. He is ready for anything. His accent is thick like Mothers. I can’t answer his questions as his piercing eyes sear into mine. I watch his eyes leave mine so he can examine the bruises on my face and on my neck. The loud wind blows harder, goosebumps arising on my skin. I cross my arms to keep warm. I can feel his own warmth rolling off his exposed skin.

“No, dammit, he can’t find me,” a frustrated whine releases from my throat when I look back at the StepDad high above.

He turns away and returns back into my room. I only have minutes before he makes his way over to this rooftop. When I look back to the boy his eyebrows are knotting. He reaches out with a slender finger to touch my cheek ever so gently. My breathe catches in my throat and I flinch at the tender skin he places his finger on. His green eyes tear from my bruised cheek to meet mine. I can’t embrace the detail enough. I stare into his magically golden streaks somehow brown and green behind them.

I hear a loud shout of pain and look back at our roof. The StepDad lies on the floor recovering from the fall. My eyes shoot from him to my window back to him before he begins to pick himself up. I look at my window one more time before bringing my attention to the boy and I see Mother standing in my window, staring at me. She must’ve made the StepDad jump. I don’t let our eyes contact for long as I drop down back behind the white pipes to face the boy again.

The boy grabs my hand awkwardly and pulls me running away from the pipes. I squeak from the ankle pain as we crouch and run to the ledge. He looks over to the ground below then grabs my other hand catching my eyes with his. I hear the StepDad calling my name behind the loud wind. My nerves are wrecked. I’m shaking so hard it hurts. The boy then, in one quick motion, squeezes my hands in his and pulls both my arms over his head. He turns around to face the ledge as he does so locking my arms in front of his neck. Then it’s all I can do to hold on as he jumps over the side of the building.

I don’t know why I let him do it. I don’t why I didn’t stop him or shout for help. I just wasn’t ready. The only thing I did know is that I had to leave the rooftop before the StepDad could grab me. We fall down the wall of the building, terror electrifying my insides into holding onto him as tight as I ever could. My stomach does turns when my breath gets caught in my throat. I choke on the gasp that stops my scream.

The boy pulls up gently, just ten stories from the ground and suddenly we’re airborne. My head fuzzes with a rush I’ve never known, my eyesight fades black. I squeeze onto him until the rush passes and takes the dimming eyesight with it, opening my eyes to see the skyscrapers leveled to us. We bolt away from the building that was my home, leaving everything behind us. The city lights shine all colors below us. The boy isn’t shy about height or speed. He roughly shoots us into the sky, up and down, until we’re more up than down, above the skyscrapers. The wind beats hard against my skin, drowning my breath. The shock numbs the cold away and I don’t feel my fingers holding on anymore.

I’m flying. I’m terrified. Exhilarated. I want to shout out all the building thrill in my chest. I want to squeal in fun, but dreading fear. The dreams of flying were an understatement of this wonderful terror. We pass the harbor, and the reservoirs, leaving my home miles and miles behind. The sky is a whole world I never knew I could know. Easy breathes in and out is all I can focus on. That is, until, I think about what Mother is doing right now. I wonder what will happen in her world. Maybe she’ll open the door to a sad officer with even sadder news of her missing daughter. She’ll probably think I committed suicide. My body lost in a tree or a dumpster, rotting away, unknown. She’ll make me a public face for the dangers of teenage mental illness. I can’t help but smile. I know my life just changed for the better. The speed and the height intoxicate my mind with reassurance. I feel unlimited. My whole world is going to change for the better, my future is mine now.

The boy decides to land the flight all too soon and I am drunk with flight. I never want to experience land again. The strain on my bruising arms begins to shake my entire skeleton. My socks touch the cold floor. I let go of him roughly, still shaking. He landed us on the tallest tower in London. The city sleeps under us in every direction. The blood rushes back to my fingertips, tingling the whole of my arms. The wind up here is stronger than I’ve ever felt wind before. The sun bringing brighter signs of lights. He faces me when I untangle my arms from around him. I’m frustrated, suddenly. The cold is pissing me off, and so is the fact that the flight is over. The twin stands beside me and crosses her arms when I make eye contact with her. We both look at him.

Who is he? She demands.

“Who are you?”

“No, that’s not how this works,” he replies a little too calmly, almost cockily. “Why would you jump from that building?” but it didn’t sound like a question.

“I-I didn’t jump...”

He laughs away from me, “You think you’re one who can lie to me? And what if I told you, I’m not your kind,” he suddenly has control of the conversation.

I feel instantly challenged by him, and it angers me, “I suppose then, you’d have to tell me who you are,” I challenge right back.

His eyes sparkle and a smirk-like smile spreads over his mouth, “Peter Pan, that’s what they call me.”

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casspurrjoybell-21 · 4 months

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Pirate Chains - Volume 2 - Against Tides

*Warning Adult Content*

Chapter 7 - Dance - Part 1

Agenor

"Are you ready to go?"

"Aye."

Nyx threw our stuff, one thing after the other, from above the cliff.

I only bothered to catch my sword and the bag of food.

Our shoes and shirts just fell into the bushes.

"Be careful when you climb down."

"Okay, okay."

I should have climbed the damn cliff myself but Nyx insisted on helping.

He's acting tough but I can see his obvious hesitation while he's standing by the edge, looking down.

"It's alright. I'll come and get you. Just stay where you are, Nyx."

He frowned at the idea but I started to climb the rocks anyway.

He looked like he was thinking about something, then his eyes lite up.

"Wait just a second."

I halted and was just about to ask him to stay put, the cliff above the waterfall was not high but if he slipped he could injure himself, badly.

Then again...

Agenor: 'Would he be my cute angel if he obeyed and just did as he was told?'

Instead my eyes opened wide and my heart skipped a beat when my daring baby boy jumped off the waterfall, butt first into the lake.

I ran to the edge of the lake and waited for him to resurface.

"Did you see that. I jumped off. It was amazing."

His eyes were shining with the excitement for the jump.

I laughed and applauded to encourage him.

"That was very brave of you."

"You're damn right it was brave. I can do it on my own, so next time, I'd appreciate if you refrained from pushing me."

"Hahaha. I can't apologize for that. It was very entertaining."

He slid his hand on the surface of the water to splash me but it was too week to reach that far.

I laughed a little but my attention was caught by something much more interesting.

I blinked, then looked once more to make sure and I was barely able to hold my laughter in.

Once Nyx had regained control over his breathing, he swam towards me.

I stood up straight and crossed my arms, waiting for him to get close enough.

He went to climb on the rocks to get out of the lake when I stopped him.

"Are you sure you've got everything?"

He thought for a few seconds, then nodded.

"My necklace. You've still got it, right?"

"I've got the necklace but are you sure you've got everything?"

"I'm sure."

He started to climb up the rocks, when he continues.

"I looked around before I jumped."

"Nyx."

"Yes?"

I look down and point to his legs.

He gave me a questioning look then tilted his head and checked himself. He was top-down naked.

"OH, MY GOD."

The embarrassment that suddenly took, invaded his face was indescribable.

I squatted and the laugh I was holding in burst free, while Nyx dropped back into the water and tried to hide behind the rocks.

"Where are my pants."

His face was getting more crimson by the minute.

"Please, don't laugh."

"Sorry," I apologized but I could stop laughing.

He just looked so damn adorable, pouting, naked in the water, hiding from... no one actually but me and I already knew him, inside out, I might add.

"Here. I'll find them for you."

"I don't know what happened."

I jumped into the water, my goal now was to stop tormenting him and make him comfortable but I could help but look back at him though, engraving the whole picture deep in my memories.

My voice was calm though, trying not to sound amused.

"They must have gotten loose when you dove into the water. I'll go look for them. Please, stay put this time."

I raised an accusing eyebrow and he pouted.

I laughed lightly and before I dove in, I hear his sweet voice all out to me...

"Be careful."

Agenor: 'I'm not walking the plank. I'm just taking a tour underwater in a very small lake.'

Of course I kept that to myself and dove deeper.

There wasn't any difficultly really, the water was crystal clear.

It took less than a couple of minutes to mind his pants that had followed the flow of the water and had settled between a set of rocks at the bottom.

I grabbed the pants and with a lung full of air, though about staying down here a little longer.

I was weighing to pros and cons of teasing and worrying him when I remembered the look on his face, childishly hiding and pouting.

I laughed, losing most of my air and so I floated to the surface, then swam in his direction.

The remaining of the afternoon wasn't any less blessed.

I used my sword to clean a spot for us to sit by the lake.

We talked and laughed, I made sure to tease the butt-naked incident out of him, which cost me a kiss and some flirting to keep his mood away from pouting.

We were both hungry and we ate everything that I had brought for us.

I made to stuff Nyx well because I knew he hadn't been eating well during the past few days.

I was built for hunger and tough times but Nyx was far more frailer, let him skip a few meals and he would start showing signs of fatigue.

He lay his head on my thigh and I let him surrender to an hour of sleep.

It goes without saying, that I remained awake with my sword by my side and my senses aware of our surroundings.

I was most almost positive nobody was around but the beauty of nature shouldn't make us forget where we really were.

I looked down, watching him draw slow and peaceful breaths.

I knew he was going to like this place but he had enjoyed it more than I had expected and I could swear that in a couple of hours he had forgotten we were on Esme Island.

Nyx woke up later and insisted on taking another dip in the lake before we left.

I didn't want him to catch a cold, so after some negotiations, he agreed to let his pants dry on the hot rocks under the sun, while we enjoyed another quick trip behind the waterfall.

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theheadcase · 3 years

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I ain’t never seen two responsible parabatai

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genshinwritings · 3 years

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Scaramouche Relationship Headcanons (SFW)

A/N: I had no certain request for this one but I just had to- Feel free to fight me about anything because no one can change my mind when it comes to this man. Pairing: Scaramouche x gn!reader

Scaramouche is not the kind of man who is usually everyone’s cup of tea, after all he is know for his harsh attitude and his blunt words, being a Fatui Harbinger did certainly not change his score for the better. You’re strongly mistaken if you think that he will become all soft, loving and caring after committing to a relationship – it’s far from anything like that. Scaramouche expresses his feelings through sarcasm, insults and strong irony thus it’s the best for you not to take his words too seriously at all times. Should it nevertheless be the case that he hit a raw point with his harsh words, causing you to cry or become utterly upset, he will change his attitude to a softer one – at least as long as no one is around. He will gently embrace you while telling you to calm down, stating in a murmured tone that he loves you. It rarely occurs that he trusts anyone enough to show them this side of him but if Scaramouche really falls in love, he falls deep and with a lot of dedication and he surely does not want them to leave due to his asshole like behavior. Tease him about his 2-seconds-long-lasting soft side once and he will be back to being a scolding choleric in the blink of an eye, telling you to shut up and simply do him a favor by jumping off a cliff.

Even though it often appears that Scaramouche does not give a damn about anything you do or don’t do, he secretly cares a lot for you and your well being. He will try to hide his considerate side by masking it with his bluntness and mean words – for example when he comes to bring you take away lunch or dinner, grumpily muttering how much of a bother you could become if you don’t properly look after yourself. If you ever dare to put yourself into an avoidable dangerous situation, prepare for him to become furiously mad after saving you – his eyes containing a mixture of fear and pure anger as he tries not to look at you, his fingers trembling. One could think that in those moments he is about to explode but it’s the complete opposite. Rather than screaming at you for being so reckless he will acknowledge your presence but ignore every single one of your words. After calming down for a while he will simply threaten you that if you ever risk your life so easily again, he will be the one to end it in a not so nice way. The feelings seem to overwhelm him in a situation like that; torn between scolding you for risking your life so stupidly and telling you that he’s glad you’re still alive.

Contrary to all expectations it can easily be found out that Scaramouche is actually a good listener, at least when it comes to you. If he notices that something is bothering you he will try to make a stupid remark about your off behavior and to loosen up the mood with his sarcastic attitude. If he notices that he's not able to catch you with his words, he will groan loudly and tell you that you’re an annoying person with all those feelings and hopes and how devastating it is to deal with them, yet that’s all he’s going to do. Afterwards he will sit down in front of you and take your hands gently in his, lightly nodding his head to signal you to tell him what’s on your mind. As long as you don’t point out how caring he seems to be, he will find no discomfort in showing his soft side every once in a while.

Scaramouche will try to hold you away from getting involved with the Fatui, as well as he will try to let your name vanish in every report that might cross his eyes. If it’s not needed he will not expose your relationship to anyone working underneath the Snezhnayan Regime. He knows that those who are afraid of him would not dare to lay a single finger on you if he decided to make your relationship an official thing around the Fatui. Yet on the other hand you would become an easy target for those who hold a grudge against him, and given his reputation the list seems to be quite endless. Which is also the reason why he decides to keep you away from any official Fatui stuff. You should respect his decision of not getting involved with the Fatui and keeping your relationship a secret or otherwise you might push Scaramouche away. Your well being is strictly above his, even though he wouldn’t admit it loudly. If the only way to save or protect you is to stay away from you, he will do that.

He is probably the worst and meanest person when it comes to any form of PDA. When the two of you are alone, he sees no problem with you becoming all touchy – he’s all in for cuddles – as long as you don’t tease him about it and you are okay with his stupid comments. Being alone with him gives you a lot of opportunities to turn the table and pull an asshole attitude on him, though you should be prepared for him to make you shut up when you push your luck too far. He sees nothing wrong in wrapping you in a blanket and sitting on your rear while you’re trying to break free, laughing at your struggling attempts to push him over. He might seem like a physically weak person but in times like that he seriously got the upper hand. Back to the PDA factor; he is really not the kind of man to show off his partner and relationship to everyone. If you decide to cross his boundaries and cling to him, he will become super grumpy real quick and scold you to take your hands off of him. If you want him not to overstep your comfort zone, you shouldn’t overstep his as well.

#scaramouche #a little long but whatever #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #scaramouche headcanons #scaramouche x reader

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free-falling-grenade · 2 years

Note

This may or may not be a lowkey prompt coz i expect a fic LOL but! What do you recon happened after the Lumity moment at the end scene? Luz probably went home with Eda, how do you think she'd react? or would Luz tell her after telling Amity? BASICALLY what do you think happened after that scene when they all were going home?

Oh. Oh no. How dare you try and make me write a fic for this. I havent wrote for the toh fandom at all coz I dont usually write found family !! AAAAAA. Okok fkkkkk. a short one then:

The chilly night breeze passes between them. Amity's warmth and Eda's old jacket keeping Luz warm. It was a comfort she has momentarily forgotten she had amidst all the distractions of the day and more importantly, what the day signified.

She feels the fatigue of the day's events rush through her body, she could almost sleep on Amity if she wanted to. But there was something about the stars watching over them that felt like home. Or was it the company that felt like it? She wasn't too sure. Her mind clouded with conflicting feelings of grief and gratitude. Either way, her case of good ol' jelly legs won't let her get up even if she wanted to.

After Eda promised, happily so, to give the other Blight sibling a shirt after much demand, she and King went to search for her kid. She knew it was getting late, and with her dealing with the warden to get useful information, she has regrettably forgotten about how off the kid was acting the whole day. Worry grating her nerves, the tightness in her chest getting uncomfortable, she could feel the owl beast also cooing in concern for the owlet.

She spots the two on the edge of the familiar cliff. The Grom tree stood tall flaunting its beauty, nostalgia hit the older witch tenfold remembering how far Luz had come. There's a sense of peace in the air that almost seemed tangible, as if the Titan demands for the mood to not be disturbed. Eda respects the wishes for a few moments, deciding to lean back on the tree to watch the young lovebirds adoringly. A flashback of a familiar mint haired witch flashes in her mind, as she laid back in the comfort of their arms as they watch the boiling sea calmingly crash under them.

King's short snore in her hair cuts the bittersweet memory, bringing the older witch back to reality. She swallows the tightness in her throat and blinks away unshed tears before stepping forward to unfortunately end the moment. “Hey, boots” She tried to keep volume leveled to not startle them, not this time at least. Amity turns her head, Luz ever so slight sitting up but remained close to her girlfriend. “Your pops and siblings are waiting for you by the stage, sent me to get you” Amity frowns but releases a hesitant sigh. She stares at Luz for a moment, a silent communication, before Luz nods, a small smile on her face. Amity pulls her in for a brief but meaningful hug, before moving to stand up. She squeezes the human’s hand for a moment. The young witch looks up at Eda with pleading eyes filled with concern, which the owl lady found quite endearing, glad someone cares of her kid as much as she does. She reaches out to ruffle Amity’s colored hair, much to her feigned irritation, “I got it from here, Boots. Take care of yourself for tonight, get those bruises checked” Amity huffs but shoots a thankful smile. With a last glance to Luz, she walks away. Luz remained still, looking up the sky where the balloon had seemingly disappeared to. Eda takes in a shaky breath, still never good with confronting feelings and being vulnerable, she still tries. At least for her. “Let’s go home, kiddo” Home. The word causes Luz’s lips to quiver, tears pricking her eyes. She tries to blink them away but fails as they slide down her cheeks. Eda catches the sight, immediately crouching to young girl’s level. Unsure what to say for a moment, she decides to open her arms instead. Luz immediately jumps into the embrace, tears staining the older witch’s dress but each tear with unspoken apologies. Eda fights hard to hold in her own. Luz isn’t sure why but everything came crashing down on her. Maybe because, despite being far from home, she has never felt so close to happiness ever since being in the demon realm. That home became these witches and demons that never in her life she would’ve thought to be real. She’s crying because it is home but she wants everyone there. She wants her Mami, she wants her Papi, and she wants to be home with everyone. King who woke up from the sobs, curls between Luz and Eda’s shoulders, snuggling close. Eda wants to ask but can’t find a way to. She waits patiently instead. When Luz’s sobs die down, a part of her knows she had to tell Eda. Even if she technically has, vaguely. She doesn’t want to worry the older witch. She doesn’t want to worry anyone else. Telling Amity took a lot in her, she can’t imagine telling someone who is closest thing to a mother she has right now. “I- I’m sorry” The young girl whispers, but her voice cracks and she can feel a new wave of tears coming up. So she tries to say it all at once with a shaky inhale, “The ritual I was talking about..it was my dad passing and-”, a choked sob escapes her mouth instead. Eda tightens her grip and tries to stop the kid, “Luz, you don’t-” but she was cut off by the motion of the kid’s head shaking profusely. “I want you to know, it’s just hard. And- and today was the anniversary-” another hiccup, “It was a long time ago but- “I just miss them” Realization hits Eda. Suddenly, it made sense. Why the kid never talked about the other parent. Why it was always ‘Mami this and Mami that’ but never more. Her actions today finally clicked in her head. She pulls the kid closer. She wants to apologize. Because she forgets sometimes. She forgets Luz is just a kid with how strong, brave and full of life she is. The girl’s frame in her arms makes her question if she had always been small. Fourteen is too young. And whatever age Luz lost her other parent is way too young. To not have both with you is probably the heaviest thing for a child to carry. They didn’t know how long it has been but the chill of Bonesborough was getting through both of them. “You think you can stand, Luz?” The girl nods in her chest but makes no move to get up. Eda huffs playfully, “I can carry you later but we have to get up on Owlbert to get back home first” “Oh, I forgot” Luz reluctantly pulls away, a sleeping King in her arms while Eda grabs her staff leaning on the tree. They aboard and ride home quietly. The twinkling of the stars almost similar to the human realm gives her a sense of comfort like no other. Hooty thankfully knocked out on the door doesn’t bother them. The older witch carries both King and Luz in her arms, walking in the house. Luz snuggled close, eyes feeling heavy from all the crying. However, she felt Eda heading up the stairs about to make a left to her room, a slight panic comes over her and immediately detaches herself a bit from the witch, “Wait! Can, uhm, can I...” She trails off looking away, feeling embarrassed to ask such a childish question. But Eda’s snort cuts off her negative thoughts. “I’m just getting some of your blankets and pillows, kid. I don’t think my nest is that comfortable for you both without them. Well, maybe King.” Luz feels her heart swell, she bites her bottom lip feeling more waterworks come up. She hides her face in the crook of the owl lady’s neck between her hair, whispering a grateful thanks. A sense of peace and contentment washes over her when they reached the nest. She feels a chaste kiss on her forehead as sleep takes over her body. The warmth is home. And she’s going to do her very best to unite all the feelings of home together. ~ Since it got long, I posted it in Ao3 as well. Read here if ya want

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lupically · 3 years

Text

#D6BB9E | BENNETT.

genre | fluff, best friends au, crush au

word count | 1777

warning | mention of burns (pyro slimes ;-;)

note | hello (〃＾▽＾〃) thank you so much for requesting from me, anonie! i hope this is what you are going for and happy reading!

request | from anon

your hands squeezed tightly around bennett's forearm before he fell too far from the peak.

"i–i got you!" you said through gritted teeth, not giving yourself a moment of spare breath as you grounded the tip of your shoes against the grass and pulled.

he was heavier than you thought. but bennett was always running and jumping around, fighting monsters and getting hurt, digging up vegetables and soiling his unclean nails. you should not be surprised if he packed some muscle weight on his shorter body from his daily adventuring.

but oh, lord barbatos, was he heavy! the effort you were putting into pulling him back to the grassy surface was made especially prevalent because of the near-death experience bennett once again put himself in.

"bennett! stop daydreaming and pull yourself up!" you hollered when you felt him slip slightly from your grip.

you had glanced at him; your shaky eyes darted from below him at the dark pit of the faraway ground to his face, which held a somewhat surprised and emotionless expression. it was not at all what you expected someone who almost fell to their death would look like.

he snapped out of his sudden trance, one that his mind inconveniently put himself under as soon as he saw your face pop up from the cliff edge. he had thought he was done for; it was probably bound to happen one day considering how he adventures with no backup nor help from anyone. your sudden appearance just served as a pleasant surprise.

"so–sorry!" he shouted, the light coming back to his brilliant green eyes.

reaching his other hand up, he grasped onto your forearm and tried to pull himself up just as you scooted your body further away from the cliff, using the ground as leverage to conjure strength and stability.

his hand was close to reaching the rocky edge, he could see. but before he could grasp the ground and hoist himself back on a surface, his eyes widened at the redness that emerged—jumped—above your laying body.

you could sense the panic in his eyes. furrowing your brows, you followed his gaze to look behind your shoulder to find a giant pyro slime that had jumped above your head. your gaze rounded at the heated creature—oh no. it would not squish you, you know, but it would definitely burn you with the heat radiating off its watery body.

ugh. watery pyro slime... what juxtaposition.

your fingers curled around bennett's forearm to prevent yourself from dropping him, which sacrificed your ability to utilize your catalyst. squeezing your eyes tightly, you turned your head to the ground and told yourself a burnt back would be much, much better than a dead friend. besides, barbara's water healing would counter with burns well so you should be fine!

the sound of a blade cutting through the air around you burst into your ear. you did not dare to look up from the ground, but bennett had instinctively unleashed his sword and carelessly stabbed upward at the pyro slime (fortunately not scraping you in the process considering both his bad luck and unprepared action). he pulled his sword away, his grip around the hilt losing when he saw that the slime was beginning to blame around its body.

it was going to burst.

quickly discarding his sword, he kicked himself up using his feet and the ample wind so he could finally catch the edge. you squealed from the impact of his motion, feeling yourself being pulled forward.

bennett hoisted himself up just enough that his arm could go around the back of your head, and in the nick of time, just before the pyro slime combusted with a hot explosion, he placed his hand at the back of your head and dipped you toward him as much as he could.

you winced at the heat that touched your legs and the small of your back, but most of the damage that was supposed to go to your uncovered skin landed on bennett's bare arm instead. he gritted his teeth at the pain, but anything would be better than you getting hurt because of his carelessness, so he endured and kept his arm around the back of your head.

looking up from the ground, the tip of your nose lightly bumped against his as soon as you faced forward. bennett took a second or three to access the proximity, as well as the other party sharing it with him, and he immediately panicked.

"i–i'm sorry!" he shouted for no reason, his cheeks beginning to flush red.

"woah–hey, bennett! stop moving, you're going to fall!" you scolded at the commotion he was causing in the air, your senses coming back to you as you helped pull him back up to the surface.

you let go of him when he got his feet on the ground. falling backward, you breathed out a relieved sigh as your back touched the grass. you spread your arms out slightly, just enough that your knuckles ghosted against bennett's hand after he mirrored your action.

"that was way too close for comfort!" bennett exclaimed as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. he looked up at the sky, controlling his breathing. "thank you for saving me. i got lucky for once, i can't believe you were around!"

you pursed your lips together and tilted your head then. turning to your side, you frowned at your best friend and reached out to poke his cheek for his attention. bennett turned to look at you, his brows rising and his cheek pinking from the sight.

"huh?" he asked as he blinked at you innocently.

"i'm mad at you," you grumbled. "you didn't wait for me this morning. you just left to dig treasures for yourself!"

you almost forgot why you were here—to scold bennett for leaving you in mondstadt and going to adventure alone. you had to find him by following trials of unusually burnt grasses, eliminating the guesses that it could have been the doings of pyro slimes.

"ah! pyro slime–" a sudden recognition of the recent event dawned upon you, and you looked down at your leg to find a patch of redness around it. "ah, it did burn me..."

bennett sat up quickly, his eyes widening slightly. your hand tentatively smoothed over the red spot, your wince obviously in his observant eyes.

he could not have protected you from that one, he had been rather far away. he already tried his best in the circumstance he was in, but still, he would rather take all the harm in your place if he could.

"i'm sorry," he apologized urgently, moving forward and reaching a hand out reluctantly.

you looked over, your eyes scanning his scarred arm that gained itself some new stories to tell this afternoon. but more permanently engraved in your beating heart was the same burnt redness, in a much bigger patch, that he has yet to complain about.

he took that for you, didn't he? the arm that went around the naked back of your neck. a vulnerable place; he protected it however he could.

bennett always protected you however he could.

the arm that put itself in front of you when you were being teased by other vision-wielding kids before you got your anemo vision, the bandaid that sloppily got stuck to your knee when you fell from the bike at five, the jacket that warmed you after you almost drowned in cider lake, and the hand that went behind your hand when the pyro slime exploded.

bennett has bad luck, sure. but he was the bad that surpassed the good, he was the hope that things will turn out for the better because he would always be there to save the day.

he was the foolishness of loving someone to a point of losing oneself.

it was the kind of foolishness that exists within bennett, the kind where you love someone so much that you are willing to hurt in place of them, the kind only bennett could flawlessly pull off in the most flawed way possible.

"bennett... your arm," you muttered as you moved to sit more comfortably on the ground.

he blinked curiously down at his arm, unsure what got you looking so damaged and upset. for a second, he almost got insecure about the way his marked skin looked as he wondered if the pain he had to endure had appalled you. but you took his hand, gently and firmly, and you placed it before your closed eyes.

"uh–what–what are you–what are you doing?"

"healing you," you muttered. "my healing won't work as good on the burns, but i can try helping you with the rest."

your concentration brought along with you a gentle gust of wind. it blew across the neverending grass field, it blew across the sky, and it blew around you two. it tickled bennett's skin carefully, the greenness flying like sparkles of dandelion petals, and it stopped at his arm to sew his skin back together.

your hair blew, dancing harmoniously with the wind that fell around your head. and the softness of your hand that touched his made his heart speed up expectantly. when you were done, the wind didn't go, but you looked up at him under the dying of the sun just to smile with golden dust on your cheeks.

and bennett could not take his eyes off you. his cheek blushed; the kind of boy whose face get red simply because the person they like looks pretty.

he opened his mouth impulsively, his mind urging him to do one of the scariest things he could ever do.

"i lik–"

"let's head back to the cathedral," you cut him off, not ready, "we can ask barbara to treat the burns."

was that intentional? bennett could not tell. he was sure the thought of it would haunt him for nights on, though.

with his luck, he would like to say rejection was almost a guarantee in his story. but, at the same time, he could feel hope bubbling in his chest when you stood up and dragged him along with you.

he followed suit, his arm extended as you guided him through the open road, your voice rambling about what to eat for dinner together.

there was hope. there has to be. lingering in your appearance when he was in need, in the wind that pushed your hearts closer together, and your intertwined hands as you two headed back home. there has to be hope.

bennett smiled to himself at the thought.

and that. that is foolishness.

#genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #genshin x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin bennett #bennett #bennett imagines #genshin impact bennett #bennett x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin impact scenarios

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green-socks · 3 years

Text

Endless Nights

Pairing: Benny Miller x gn!reader (no descriptions or pronouns)

Summary: You and Benny can't seem to get enough of each other's company. Could tonight be the night you find the courage to do something about that crush?

Words: 2,101

Warnings: Nudity but not the sexual kind, food/eating. Almost zero editing and a tired writer.

Notes: I don't always participate in Writer Wednesday, but when I do I take one look at the picture, get an idea and then go completely off the rails. Sorry. So the pic doesn't really have a lot to do with the rest of the fic but I hope that's okay. For this week's @autumnleaves1991-blog Writer Wednesday, thanks for organizing it every week!

I had the idea for midnight shopping at the supermarket with Benny and then realized I didn't want the night to end there... So it didn't. I actually like this piece, even if it probably suffered a lot from my fast writing and non-existent editing. Reader is mentioned having shorter legs than Benny but other than that I think there are no descriptions or pronouns used of reader, lmk if I'm wrong.

MASTERLIST

You and Benny have been driving around aimlessly for a couple of hours already, taking turns in picking the music, and talking about this and that while sometimes falling into a companionable silence. It still amazes you how easy and comfortable everything is with him. You have never felt like this with a crush before, used to the feeling of always obsessing over what you felt like you could and couldn’t say or do, or spending a lot of time and energy into trying to figure out what the other thought.

No, with Benny you don’t have to pretend anything or force yourself to keep the conversation running in fear of those horrid awkward silences, because both of you know that you can talk for hours on end when the mood strikes. You met through mutual friends only a few weeks ago, but the connection was clearly there. As was the obvious mutual attraction.

Strictly speaking, though, you and Benny are just friends. Nothing has ever really happened to indicate otherwise in any case. But friends don’t usually try this hard to find any excuse just to hang out, nor do you stay up late every night talking to your other friends. And when you hang out in a group you always seem to gravitate towards one another. What’s more, somehow it always seems to be just the two of you left at the end of the night, often not even noticing the others leave.

Your interactions always border on the line of obvious flirting with your touches and already formed inside jokes, but neither of you ever dare do anything that couldn’t be brushed off as innocent behavior between friends. You guess you’re both just kind of scared to take the leap - you have been burned before, and so has he.

It’s not that you doubt your own feelings for Benny, or indeed his feelings for you. Even you have to admit that he does seem pretty interested in you, but you still wave away your friends’ squeals of “he’s totally in love with you!”, mainly not wanting to get your hopes up too much.

Because a small part of you still finds it a little hard to believe; someone so handsome and funny and kind wanting to be with you? What if he likes you, but just not as much as you like him? What if you were just a second choice for someone you really like until something better comes along - again? That scares you, both of you.

Tonight has been like many other nights lately; you had been to the movies with some of your friends, but after the movie ended you had been grasping at straws to come up with a way to continue the night so they (Benny) wouldn’t go home just yet. Benny had helpfully suggested just driving around and seeing if any ideas came to mind.

Santiago in turn had rolled his eyes at you two knowingly (making both you and Benny fluster and try to fake complete nonchalance) before saying good night and leaving with the others, who apparently didn’t feel the compulsive need to continue spending time together.

--------

The sun has gone down already but you two are still enjoying each other’s company too much to go home yet.

You end up in the 24/7 supermarket parking lot, craving a midnight snack. You are reminded of your teenage years, when you used to hang around different parking lots, popping into the store to buy a soda or a candy bar, spending all day outside with friends.

The only other customers doing their midnight shopping are tired people just off their shifts or young people staying up late just for the hell of it, much like you and Benny are, in fact. You wander around the huge store together, pointing out different products you’d like to try and reviewing stuff one of you already has tried.

Before long you realize that you have already spent almost forty minutes idly wandering around the supermarket, collecting new soda or chip flavors to test. Neither of you thought to grab a basket at the entrance, so your arms are starting to get a bit full.

“Benny, do you think this might be enough?” you ask while struggling to maintain your hold on the different bags of chips.

Benny looks back at you from where he is pondering over whether to get some ice cream. “Huh, I guess. I do still wanna get a sandwich, though!” he exclaims and promptly takes off in the direction of the deli counter where they sell sandwiches and salads left over from the day.

You try to keep up with his long strides, certain that you must look a bit comical half-running after a man with your hands full of treats. Oh, well. Benny often complains about how much focus it requires of him to “modify his steps” to fit your much shorter legs, and he always forgets about it when he gets excited.

When you catch up with him, he has already picked a sandwich for himself and one for you. “I got you salmon, that’s your favorite, right?”

“Yeah, thanks!” you say a little breathlessly after your speed-walk, taken that he remembers.

As you finally get to the cash register and start loading your stuff in your bag you see Benny sneak one more candy bar among the rest of your purchases. For someone in such good physical shape he sure does like his candy.

“Where to next?” Benny inquires as you get back to the car.

“Hmm, how about this one waterfront type swimming spot? It’s pretty secluded, has a pier, and there’s a nice view to the sea. I sometimes like to sit there on the cliffs to watch the sun go down,” you suggest, and offer him directions to the place.

It’s a short drive and you show Benny where to park his car. Even though it’s somewhere around 1 a.m. and the sun went down hours ago, the night is still light enough that you can easily see where you’re going and it doesn’t feel like you’re just sitting in the dark.

You settle down on the small pier with your sandwiches and sodas and chips and munch away happily.

Benny hands you the candy bar you saw him grab earlier at the cash register “for dessert”. It has a cheesy text on the packaging about giving this to someone special. He grins and shrugs, “I know you love these”.

It’s such a simple gesture but you can’t help feeling really flattered and even more smitten with him than you already were. You don’t read too much into the text on the packaging, but even the fact that he would buy you a candy bar he knows you love - just because - warms your heart.

(What you don’t know is that the candy bars have lots of different texts to choose from, and that Benny specifically picked “give this to someone special” instead of “give this to a friend”. There was also “give this to someone you love”, but Benny worried that might scare you off.)

--------

After you’re both done with snacking you try to think of what to do next, still reluctant to pronounce this night to be over, you get an idea.

“You know what I would really like to do right now?” you ask Benny, looking out over the water that looks so tempting. “Go swim,” you announce, turning to look at him.

“You don’t have a swimsuit with you, do you?” Benny asks, turning to look at you too.

“No… But there’s no one here,” you point out with your eyebrows raised in challenge.

Benny looks at you for a few beats with a blank expression on his face, before shrugging “Alright,” and throwing off his hoodie and t-shirt, jeans following next. “What are you waiting for?” he shouts over his shoulder as he jumps from the pier into the water.

You’re left sitting there with your mouth open, blinking rapidly as you try to catch up with the fast turn of events. Shaking your head, you stand up and shrug off your clothes before quickly running after Benny and getting into the refreshing water.

The night is still warm, and the water feels wonderful. You swim to catch up with Benny.

“You know, it’s pretty dark here but I’ve basically seen you naked now,” he remarks, waggling his eyebrows, and you snort with laughter.

“Benny, you’re not allowed to make me laugh in the water or I’ll drown,” you try to say sternly.

“Oh sweetheart, I wouldn’t let you drown,” he answers in a surprisingly serious voice.

Suddenly the energy between you is full of.. something. Something new and buzzing, sort of scary but also exciting. Something you can’t quite explain. You’re swimming around each other, looking at each other intently, but not daring to say anything that would break the moment and burst the bubble.

Someone else does that for you.

A couple of teenage girls, you’d guess around 18 years old, stumble on to the pier and immediately notice you two in the water. The other girl lets out a shriek and tightens her hold on the towel around her, and before you can even try to reassure them that everything is fine, they run off giggling and shrieking some more. Evidently, they had had the same idea for a nighttime swim but found the place already occupied.

“Yeahhhh, maybe we should put some clothes on before someone calls the police,” Benny suggests dryly.

You two climb out of the water giggling and grinning broadly. You don’t have any towels with you since you didn’t exactly plan this impromptu skinny-dipping session, but Benny gives you his hoodie to help keep you warm.

Sitting back down next to Benny you’re even closer together now than earlier, ever so slowly inching closer and closer to each other. Both of you think you could pass it off as huddling for warmth if the other were to question it, but somehow you know that won’t be an issue.

Soon enough you’re snuggling together on the waterfront overlooking the sea. You stay quietly like that for some time, maybe fifteen minutes, maybe more. It’s hard to tell when the world is so still and quiet around you.

Suddenly you think that this is it, this is the moment you’ve been waiting for. In all honesty you sort of enjoy the pining stage of new relationships, but right now you feel like you might burst if you keep these feelings inside you any longer.

You turn and burrow your head into the crook of his neck and decide that you will have to take the leap now. You start pressing gentle kisses on his neck and hear Benny’s breath hitch at the first contact of your lips on his skin. He goes still as a statue, but you can feel more than hear his unsteady breathing at your actions. You’re practically vibrating with nervous excitement as you work your way up to his jaw and towards his lips.

Taking one final deep breath you close your eyes, not daring to look at Benny in the eye right now, as you bring your lips to meet his.

The kiss is sweet and unhurried, and yet your head is swimming and your whole body is buzzing with it as you melt into each other. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt, which just proves that everything really is different - better - with Benny. You pull away when you find yourself quickly out of breath just from feeling so much.

You finally dare to open your eyes to find Benny gazing at you with a dazed expression that surely mirrors your own and you slowly beam at each other, not feeling the need for words just now. Maybe you couldn’t even find them if you tried.

You settle back against his chest and the two of you stay like that for the rest of the night, sometimes spending long moments just kissing each other, sometimes talking quietly, sometimes just enjoying each other’s presence.

--------

Around five in the morning, when the sun is already getting up, you finally start to really feel the need for sleep. But this time it doesn’t feel wrong to leave and go home, since you’ll be going home together.

Later that day you wake up to a good morning, sweetheart in Benny’s arms where you fell asleep on his couch, tired but happier than you’ve ever felt in your life.

#benny miller fanfiction #benny miller x reader #benny miller x gn!reader #benny miller x you #triple frontier fanfiction #i still don't know what i'm doing #i accidentally wrote something #writer wednesday #garrett hedlund fanfiction

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sserpente · 3 years

Text

Seeds of Doubt

Synopsis: Months and months after grieving in your home realm Asgard, when you find out that Loki, the man you had promised to marry one day is still alive, you accompany Thor to Earth to bring him back to his senses. Your strong feelings for one another overwhelm you and you join the God of Mischief on his conquest to become a fearsome king. Together, you survive the strongest storms. Together, you win every battle. Together, you rule Midgard. As the sceptre’s steel grip on you becomes stronger and stronger, both Loki and you fall into a tyrannical frenzy feeding off of the fear of your mortal subjects and only once the sceptre is taken out of your reach do you begin to doubt your ways. What will be stronger in the end? Will it be the power of the mind stone… or your unconditional love?

A/N: Here it finally is! This is the 20k Follower Special! It’s a personalised Imagine written for @nebulousfishgills who won! ♥ The Reader in this story has a name, a specific appearance, traits and characteristics, so it’s a little different than usual! Enjoy, everyone! ♥

Words: 10469 Warnings: Loki wins!AU, Dark!Loki, Dark!Reader, Dom!Loki, mentions of slavery, violence, murder and gore; torture, dystopian universe, smut, dub-con, angst, mild exhibitionism

“Where is he?” Your voice echoed through the hall like a mother’s desperate scream for her child. They found him. Hysteria spread in your chest like a parasite, your feeble attempts to swallow down your worry for the man you loved all but fruitless. Your green cape—a homage to Loki—fluttered behind you like you were riding a tidal wave ready to destroy everything in its path. Perhaps you were. Perhaps today was the day you were going to hold the people who wronged him accountable for it and perhaps soon, you would finally hold each other again.

His death had ruined you. Day in and out, Frigga would find you crying in the library grieving the love of your life all the while Thor undid the damage they blamed on Loki, hiding in the very same spot he had spent most of his time in to read in peace, knowing that his tactless brother would hardly seek out a place of pure knowledge and wisdom.

The Queen knew better than to tell. Heads would roll if the kingdom found out about your tears, regardless of how inseparable Loki and you had always been. No one but him had ever seen you cry and you took pride in keeping it that way.

As of right now, your concern and anger overwhelmed the numbing sadness. Had you not overheard the einherjars’ heated conversation about the lost prince having returned from the dead and wreaking havoc somewhere you could not be a part of it, you might have never learned that Loki was alive until they brought him back and… and what?

Something was wrong, you could feel it in the very core of your being. Clenching your fists, you barged further into the throne room unannounced, ignoring the weak protests of the guards. Each of your steps was confident, calculated—even though there was a part of you that was on the verge of tears.

“Amnerys…” Thor spoke your name as if it belonged to a child caught with its hand in the cookie jar.

“Where is he, Thor?!” You spat through gritted teeth, narrowing your blue eyes at him.

The God of Thunder took a deep breath. “He is on Earth.”

“Midgard? What is he doing on Midgard?”

“Heimdall witnessed him entering the realm through a portal and slaughtering innocents. He means to rule the mortals as their king.” Odin said. Your heart skipped a beat. Loki… your sweet, loving, caring, perceptive and mischievous Loki, your mirror…

“This is not right. Loki would not… not like this.”

“It matters not,” Odin continued unfazed, “Thor will be sent to Midgard to put an end to his childish schemes and he will face trial for the damage and chaos he has caused across Yggdrasil.” No, he will not. You glared at him. Had you treated him differently, he would never have been tempted to throw a foreign realm into an absolute monarchy in the first place.

“I demand to come with him.”

“You, Amnerys? You wish to accompany Thor to Earth?” Incredulousness swung in Odin’s voice, his white eyebrows raised ever so slightly. He clenched his spear when you stood your ground, lifting your chin as if nothing was about to stop you—and nothing was, as a matter of fact.

“You know who he was to me. This is the least you owe me, your majesty.”

~*~

Odin knew. He knew you were not to mess with and he knew that it was solely Loki’s death that had kept you at bay. He would never admit it but your intelligence intimidated him. You could be dangerous if only you wanted to. Odin had learned during your early childhood already that keeping you close to the palace meant to remain safer than banishing you to a foreign realm where you would plot revenge until he fell. An eye for an eye. You would only ever treat the people who wronged you like that.

Dark magic was still sizzling in your blood when the clouds spat you both out and sent you flying through the crisp air, right until Thor slung his arm around your waist and brought his hammer down into utter nothingness, enveloped by heavy rainclouds and blinding lightning bolts in the distance.

You hit the roof of an aeroplane or something of the like. Mortal technology was beyond your comprehension, for neither Loki nor you required a machine to fly if you could simply transform into a bird and take to the skies.

“Don’t back down now, hammer boy.” You yelled across the stormy wind. Thor shot you a meaningful look, even more so when the hatch opened and you both jumped.

Loki. His eyes widened when his brother marched towards him like a bilgesnipe all the while an invisible force appeared to rip your heart right out of your chest only to mend it with the soft hands of relief. Loki’s gaze met yours, blue locking with blue and your souls intertwining like eager fingers.

Thor jumped and you followed, leaving the dumbfounded mortals behind.

Your digits were tingling with seidr as you landed on the cliff, your nails digging into the relentless rock to your feet. Thor was nowhere to be seen, not until you heard his battle cry in the distant forest. Odin would have expected you to help him but that was not what you were here for. You only had eyes for him.

“Loki…” His lips parted and several painful heartbeats passed in which he observed you like the antique paintings in the palace library. Doubtfully. What was it he expected to see? Your grief had made your round face grow older and your skin even paler than it already was and yet, you were still the same woman with blue eyes and those chestnut brown hair he used to love burying his fingers in.

“Are you real?” His voice was weak, wary. Frowning, you stepped closer to him, close enough for him to reach out and touch you. Loki was frozen on the spot like an ice sculpture in the deepest winter of Jötunheim.

“What? Of course I’m real.” You never noticed the tears swimming in your eyes until you took one final step and lifted your chin to look him in the eye. You were tall, taller than the average mortal woman and still, Loki towered above you like a true king. Like the true king he used to be before Odin and Thor drove him to attempted suicide.

He looked older, and colder. Worn out. Your voice was but a mere whisper, your palm cupping his right cheek. “What happened to you?”

Loki swallowed, making you gasp when his hand wrapped around your wrist. The moment he blinked was the moment you threw yourself into his arms. Inhaling his unique scent, this delectable mixture of molten metal, ice and leather, you pressed your face against his chest with your eyes closed, bathing in his presence and his touch, both of which you had missed more than anything in all of the nine realms.

The first, desperate sob escaped your lips when he hugged you back and rested his chin on your shoulder, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“I missed you so much… I thought I had lost you forever.”

“You did not.” He replied, his lips against your chestnut hair.

“Why… why did you not contact me? Where were you?”

“Contacting you would have put you in danger. It was for the best you believed me dead.”

“Was it?” You raised your voice. “Was it really? Do not patronise me, Loki, you know very well I can hold a candle to you.”

“Yes…” He pondered. “I know that.” Silence. Uncomfortable and peaceful at the very same time, you both stood there as if there was a canyon between you, lost time you had to make up for.

“Have you got any idea how much I suffered without you?” You continued, your voice shaking.

His expression hardened. “Did Odin harm you?”

“No. No, he wouldn’t dare lay a finger on me. I was mourning, Loki. When you died… a part of me died with you and now… now I feel like it is coming back to me.”

His blue eyes locked with yours. “Join me.”

“W-what? Loki… I came to take you home with me.”

The God of Mischief shook his head bitterly. “Asgard was never truly my home, now was it?”

“It’s the place you grew up in, the place you know better than any other… the place where you met me. Is that not enough? Odin will not live forever. We will be free, Loki.”

“Yes,” he breathed hoarsely, “We will be free. With this.” Seidr tickled his palm, enveloping his hand in a beam of green light to reveal the sceptre.

“He will have me executed for this—you know this.”

“But you don’t want this. Midgard… why would you want to rule the mortals?”

Loki did not respond and yet his glance spoke volumes. Something is wrong, I can feel it.

“Why won’t you tell me?” You chirped, hot tears worsening your sight once more. If your cheeks were wet and reddened, you never noticed. Then, his expression hardened once more.

“But I am. This is it, my sweet Amnerys, my triumph. I will rule, I will be powerful and I will prove myself a worthy king. Is this not what we always dreamed of as children?”

“It is. Loki, it is… but…” But what? He was back. Loki was alive and you could not care less about the mortals’ fate if only he would never leave your side again. Loki was your soulmate and you were his.

This was wrong. You knew it was wrong and yet… the urge to give yourself to him rose with every single heartbeat.

“Join me.” He repeated. A disarming smirk played on his lips, even though it did not quite reach his eyes. “Be my queen.”

You gasped for air, your hesitation dissolving like moist fog in a spring forest. By the time Thor returned with the mortal wrapped in metal, you had gone.

~*~

5 years later

Loki chuckled at the words he himself had written, his fingers entangled with yours and his thumb stroking the back of your hand. Propping his chin up with his free hand, he watched the hilarious play unfold on the small stage he’d had built. The actors were sweating, yet a look into their terrified and helpless eyes proved it was not the warm stage light increasing their body temperature.

Loki had executed three actors over the past week because they had failed to please him and play their part convincingly. Naturally, they had all played the parts of Thor, albeit a humiliated and weak version of the God of Thunder who was currently in exile.

You still remembered the day of victory like it was yesterday, the adrenaline and the rush of power coursing through your veins like liquid fire. The Chitauri had overpowered the Avengers almost too soon for your entertainment. A few of them, Thor, the redhead Natasha Romanoff and the green beast they called the Hulk remained alive, plotting revenge and assassinations.

Not one month went by in which Loki and you did not publically execute a hitman or a hitwoman, and yet their feeble attempts to murder their king and queen were all but pathetic. Only the fewest made it past the heavily guarded entrance doors of what used to be Stark Tower and now posed as a striking palace you called your new home. Midgard was not so bad, after all.

Terrorising its people was quite fun, actually and thanks to Loki’s sceptre, getting them to bend to your will was not only fun but way too easy and convenient. The God of Mischief had soon gotten rid of the leaders the mortals called their would-be queens, kings and presidents anyway. Those who had resisted were now rotting away several feet below the earth.

Oh yes, the sceptre was truly a most marvellous object. You fancied a foot massage? The sceptre would convince the helpless mortal in charge of gardening the roof terrace. You wished for a special food delivery? Anything was possible with the mind stone. They were so easy to manipulate, so easy to control and undermine, to step on like a boot would step on an ant. It was fun. Nothing less did those petty and ignorant mortals deserve after polluting their own planet to the point of death and destruction. They were paying the price for it now.

In your youth, years and years had gone by on Asgard where you would study the powerful stones until you knew all of its secrets. The Tesseract was gone—Loki had failed to tell you whom he had given it to after the successful invasion of the Chitauri, nonetheless, as long as you still had the sceptre, you were not going to complain. It felt like the mind stone was connecting you two, wrapping a steel rope around your love for one another. Love which you never failed to act on at any given opportunity, for your days were mainly spent cuddling and, quite frankly, fucking on every possible surface of Stark Tower, having luxurious dinners and Loki sending terrified mortals to buy you expensive gifts and jewellery.

The humans feared you and unlike what you had expected from yourself, you were enjoying it. You were bathing in their terror, their anxiety and their tears, even their blood—metaphorically speaking—especially after Loki put you in charge of labour distribution.

What was the play about again? Snapping yourself out of your trance, you sighed, even more so because Loki’s hand had discreetly disappeared under your dress under the table, his thumb caressing your clit. There was no need for underwear here, after all.

“He is positively the most unenthusiastic Thor of the whole week.” You choked out when he slipped two fingers inside of your warmth, his free hand coming up to stroke your pale arm. “He is boring me.”

“Is he now? I believe the reason for your boredom is that I have not yet sentenced him to death. He is rather delightful. Look at how much he is shaking.” He chuckled. “He is trying so hard to appear devoted. He will live, for now.”

A moan escaped your lips when he curled his fingers inside of you, repeatedly stroking your g-spot. Loki chuckled once more. “Oh, what is it, my sweet Amnerys? Will you come for me? Will you come undone before all these people?”

Slaves were positioned to either side of the long table. If they knew what Loki was doing to you right now, they’d do well to keep their mouths shut and pretend they did not notice and the actors on stage were too caught up in their own panic to realise. Whyever not? You moaned once more. No one would know and if there was something Loki wanted, then he would get it anyway. That included your orgasms.

“I… I will…” You whispered, blood biting at your pale cheeks. He raised his eyebrows slightly, a mischievous smirk growing on his lips. His thumb applied more pressure, making you throw your head back into the cushioned backrest of your throne. By the time you let go and let pleasure consume you, Loki had lost all interest in the play. His blue eyes were fixed on you and your sweet whimpers, his heart pounding fast in his chest upon realising one too many times that you belonged to him.

“My queen…” He purred, helping you ride out your orgasm all the while you attempted, miserably, to keep a straight face. It was then the slaves in the room began to clap and the actors on stage bowed, relieved it was over.

“You are dismissed. Get out of my sight.” Loki barked. You giggled at the way they almost fell off the stage, hurrying to get away from you two.

“They are like lambs,” you remarked, still panting. “Like innocent lambs and we’re the wolves.”

“Hmm… lamb sounds like an excellent idea for dinner, would you not agree?” He hooked his index finger under your chin, forcing you to look up at him—not that you had wanted to look away anyway. The remaining mortals in the room knew better than to wait for an order. Without a word, they rushed towards the kitchen to prepare the meal—regardless of how they would acquire a lamb.

Then, finally, Loki’s hand retreated from under your dress, his digits coated with your juices. Your lips parted when he brought them to your mouth, having you suck them clean which you did with no hesitation.

“I have to leave New York for a few days tomorrow.” He said quietly, his gaze fixed on your lips wrapped around his fingers. You released him with a silent smack to pout.

“Without me?”

“Yes, my love. There have been concerning reports of riots in New Jersey. Now we cannot have that, can we?”

“No… of course not.”

“I shall be back soon. You will rule this meagre place just fine without me until I return. You know how to put the mortals in their place, no?”

You giggled again. “I do.”

“That is my queen. I trust you, my sweet Amnerys.”

~*~

I trust you, my sweet Amnerys. You smiled. You were the only one in the nine realms that the infamous God of Mischief trusted. Even a few days without him would be hell. You would handle the kingdom well, there was no doubt about that and yet… you already longed for him to hold you in his arms again. Throwing back the satin green covers of the huge king-size bed the two of you slept in, you climbed off the soft mattress all but naked, your smile widening when your blue eyes fell on the golden fountain pen Loki had gifted you, along with a bouquet of blue roses, your favourite flowers—one of his first gifts, back on Asgard when you were only five-hundred years old, right before you had run off like children to practice magic with Frigga. So young, so naïve, so in love.

Loki had always been so gentle, so considerate… your smile faded. He had changed though, had he not? His behaviour towards you was no different in the slightest bit, but even though he radiated dominance like a radioactive gemstone, you wondered why it was only now you realised how cruel he had become. The humans were shivering with fear when they spoke to him, barely able to kneel properly for their trembling robbed them of their balance. And what about you? Were you not inflicting the same amount of pain and suffering?

You scoffed. Where were these thoughts coming from? This was ridiculous, right? You were a queen, Loki’s queen, and you were together and happy. It mattered not if the mortals lived in agony for this cause… only it did.

Your lips parted. When was the last time Loki and you had spent a peaceful day together outside, without anyone attempting to assassinate you? Without anyone quivering in fear of what might happen to them if they displeased you?

When… when had you become like that? You swallowed thickly. Loki had left earlier this morning. You were not going to sulk away in his absence, now were you? He had left you in charge for a reason and you would make him proud.

“Y-your majesty?” It was one of the maids, standing in the doorframe like she was about to be sacrificed to the Norns and hence ripping you out of your thoughts with brute force, making you drop the fountain pen back on the desk and spin around.

“Don’t you know how to knock, you silly girl?”

“I… I did, your majesty.”

“What is it?” You barked.

“There… there has been a brawl on the street right in front of the Tower. The guards have told me that two… two men were fighting over a stolen loaf of bread.”

You rolled your eyes. Well, theft was a crime and it was going to have to be dealt with.

“I am to let you know, I wasn’t going to let them in just in case you were not decent yet… which… which you aren’t, so I was…”

“Get me my morning robes,” you cut her off. “I shall get freshened up and meet the culprits in the throne room.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” The maid nodded and hurried away quickly but even the hot shower you took before she returned did not succeed in washing away the seeds of doubt in your mind. Something was wrong. It was the very same thought you had harboured back when you had first found Loki again after his attempted suicide. It felt like ages away now and yet… you remembered your concerns like they’d been keeping you awake only yesterday.

When you entered the throne room an hour later, the two men were quivering, one of them crying even and the fight they had had over a mere loaf of bread—pathetic—all but forgotten. You tilted your head as you raised your eyebrows and made yourself comfortable on Loki’s throne.

“Well?” You spat.

“My q-queen, w-we are so sorry. I-I just… I need to f-feed my family. We have been living in p-poverty after K-King L-L-Loki shut down m-my b-business. T-the oil factory?”

“The oil factory that kept polluting the seas, you mean? Killing the fish, contaminating all of your drinking water, making you all die even faster?” You scoffed. “Perhaps now you know what the fish must have felt like.”

“N-no, I-I mean… y-yes. I… r-realise my mistake but my… my family, they had nothing to do with it. I need to f-feed them. My w-wife s-suffers from severe social anxiety, she is unable to work. O-our children… we are going to starve to death. W-we… I would have paid for the loaf if only I could have, all I want is to k-keep my f-family alive!” His last words were swallowed by pathetic sobs. The urge within you to roll your eyes grew with every passing second and yet, for some peculiar reason and for the first time in years, you felt your heart clench with something you almost did not recognise anymore. Compassion.

This man had not stolen out of spite or malice. He had stolen out of desperation. The other man, you presumed, must have been the vendor then. He too now feared for the worst for causing a scene. The punishment for theft was execution by dismemberment. Fingers first, arms next, lastly the head. It was a surprisingly effective way to keep the robbery rate at a minimum.

“W-Will I… will you have me killed, my queen?”

You took a deep breath. Whatever it was that overcame you, Loki would not be pleased. But this man had not truly committed a crime, now had he? It was a loaf of bread, for Heaven’s sake!

“No. Now get out of my sight and you,” you pointed at another maid, “have that bread replaced for the vendor.”

One of the maids had once called you “ruthless” and “dangerous”. Loki had had her executed for her disrespectful behaviour and gossiping behind your back. As of today, however, you were wondering if she was right. The maid who had caught you off guard earlier this morning, she used to be a Mathematics student, you knew that from when you had taken her belongings back at her arrival to see if she had anything you liked. She did, as a matter of fact. A beautiful emerald stone necklace reminding you of Loki’s colours. You had barely worn it since, it was more the principle of being able to simply take what you wanted. Not to mention what the mortals were to expect if they resisted you. As if on cue, your seidr tickled your fingertips, once more reminding you of Loki.

Tricks and pranks you had always enjoyed together but this? You did not want to give up the life you had, did not want to give up Loki because what was done was done. He ruled Midgard now, with you by his side, you could not have one thing without the other.

But when… when exactly had you begun to doubt that a kingdom drowning in blood, tears and hard labour was not what you wanted after all? After everything Loki had gone through? He deserved happiness, he deserved to rule but not… not like this.

You growled. “Run me a bath.” You ordered, avoiding looking at your shivering maid.

“Y-yes, o-of course, Your Majesty. Would you like a bath bomb, too? I… I had them brought to the Tower for your baths. They are with… with lemon tea, your favourite scent.”

Really? You meant to say. Instead, you froze her in place with your scrutinising gaze. Your expression uncontrollably softened when you met her terrified and tear-stricken eyes. “Thank you.”

The maid’s eyes widened. “O-Oh! Y-You’re welcome, my queen. I… I will also prepare your favourite wine for you.”

Well… She doesn’t do this because she likes you or respects you, a reproachful voice in your head whispered. She does it because she’s afraid that you will kill her if she so much as breathes in your direction at the wrong moment.

~*~

Loki had made sure to have all of your personal belongings, along with your beloved fountain pen, brought to Asgard. Stacked away, somewhere in this gorgeous bedroom, were your old books too. Books that you had studied so intently and so often that they were on the verge of falling apart. Most of them were about the Infinity Stones and their creation.

You could not shake off the feeling that your subconscious was trying to tell you something—yet all you knew was that the answer was hidden in between the lines of your books. It had to be. Seeds of doubt had clouded your mind after Loki had gone, alas once he returned… you had felt more powerful than ever.

And now, something was keeping you down like a heavy blanket of snow on Jötunheim.

“One of the maids was caught snooping around in our bedroom last night, did you know?” Loki said casually when he entered the room, his armour melting off of his body to reveal a pale but well-defined body. Distracted, you blinked, losing all focus on your books.

“Which one?”

“You know the girl with the brown hair who spends most of her time in the kitchen. Only the Norns know what she is doing in there when it is not meal time.” He began to smirk, bending down to kiss you gently.

“Would you like to have her?”

You grinned. “With pleasure. I don’t wish to kill her though.” You replied. Loki frowned. “She is one of our best cooks! Let us torture her a little and punish her for invading our privacy like that. If she has not learned her mistake by then, we can still kill her.”

Loki sighed. “Well then. As you wish, my queen. Now come to bed. I wish to feel myself inside of you.”

~*~

You laughed, hysterically almost, when the maid screamed. Your fingertips were tingling with seidr, one of your hands clutching Loki’s sceptre. Pain distorted the girl’s face as she cowered on the ground before you, trembling to the point she would be unable to stand on her own accord. Her eyes were glowing blue, the sceptre’s influence clouding her mind.

Power rushed through your veins, from the mind stone into your arm and through your entire body, making you feel invincible.

Loki chuckled behind you. If you kept going for much longer, the nosey maid would die after all. But oh, playing with the sceptre was just too much fun.

“Go on. Hold your arm into the flames.” You commanded, nodding your head over to the chimney. The fire was crackling peacefully, the warmth spreading all over the throne room. The maid’s lower lip, chewed on to the point it was bleeding, was shaking. You sincerely hoped there was still a part of her knowing what was going on, knowing what she was being forced to do and yet, without any hesitation, she crawled over to the fireplace, stretched out her left hand and held it straight into the flames.

Her ear-piercing screams echoed through the room like sharp needles stabbing your skin and from the corner of your eye, you could see the other slaves in the room swallowing thickly, forced to watch the horror unfolding before their eyes as a lesson that would surely not fail its impact.

“See… who plays with fire will likely burn themselves.” You spat through gritted teeth, albeit with a dangerously sweet voice. Then, before she could utter a single word, you knocked her out, hitting her hard on the head with the blunt end of the sceptre.

She would not need any more mind control when she woke up and yet, the moment the sceptre struck her, a painful sting tore through you, her physical agony turning into mental torment for you. For just a brief moment, you saw a young, innocent girl who had been robbed of her entire life to serve you and Loki as a mindless slave to be punished severely if she dared to step out of line.

You blinked, stumbling back a few steps to chase away the atrocious feeling in your guts, crashing straight into Loki. He frowned, steadying you, and took the sceptre from your hand in response. The moment it left your grasp, the sensation grew even worse. What was wrong with you?

“Are you quite alright, my love?” Loki whispered, quiet enough only for you to hear it. You nodded, taking a deep breath.

“I feel a little dizzy, is all. Let me go lie down for a bit—and tell the maid to prepare us supper with salmon when she awakes.”

The God of Mischief was still frowning by the time you fled from the throne room and retreated to your shared chambers.

Heavens, what in the nine realms was going on? Staggering over to the window, you gaped outside to take in the beautiful skyline of New York City and rubbed your eyes. It almost felt like you had been seeing the world in black and white and, for some dubious and peculiar reason, the colours were now slowly pouring back into your perception. It scared you.

You were not surprised when Loki entered the bedroom not soon after you had stormed out, finding you biting your nails nervously—which was something you had never down before.

“Perhaps you should tell her about supper yourself. She is even more terrified of you than she is of me, my queen.” He chuckled, stroking over your hair as he approached you. When you only sighed with hesitation sparkling in your eyes, Loki’s lips parted.

“You are unwell.”

“I’m fine, I…”

“You are not. Should I call for a healer?”

“They’re called doctors here.” You replied weakly.

“I do not care what they call them as long as one of them helps you, my love. I will not have you suffer.”

“Perhaps it is my cycle, Loki. I am fine. Let us—“

There was a sudden tumult in the throne room that interrupted you both. Loud gasps and even screams became audible with a start, almost as if a wave of relief washed over the entire staff… well, your slaves.

“Sire! Sire! Help!” Alarmed, the both of you exchanged a look. Your heart sank to your boots when you hurried back into the throne room and were greeted by an assassination commando.

“Loki. Amnerys. It’s Game Over. Stand down.” Red dots in your field of vision blinded you when you came to a halt, laser pointers, so you figured, belonging to heavy machine guns aimed directly at you two and before you… Natasha Romanoff, Bruce Banner and, much to your surprise, Thor.

“Chloe… take the elevator downstairs, someone will be waiting for you there. And take all the others with you.” Loki glared at her. It was the maid Thor had addressed and if looks could kill, the poor girl would have dropped dead this instant. You should have killed the stupid wench after all. She had been spying on you all along, catching glimpses of moments where you would be unprepared… Both Loki and you growled.

“Thor… what a lovely surprise.” The God of Mischief announced then, arrogantly lifting his chin. “Have you at last decided to see for yourself what I have done to your precious Earth? Is it not better to keep the humans under control like this, to keep them from destroying their own planet?”

“By enslaving them and working them to death? I don’t think so, Loki. This is madness.”

“Perhaps. But so is you coming here.” His expression hardened. “You have signed your death warrant, brother.”

“Not this time. Our father—“

“Your father!” Loki spat.

“We did not want to do this, Loki. But you left us no choice. You must be stopped. Both of you.”

“Skip the reunion speech, Thor…” Natasha muttered. You snarled at her all the while holding on to Loki’s arm. What did he mean by no choice? What had he planned?

With your heart in your mouth, you soon found your seidr tickling your fingertips, ready to fling them all straight into the nearby wall to listen with delight how several of their bones would break in the process.

When you turned your head back to Loki, he gave you a barely visible nod. It was in the very moment you sent both Natasha and Bruce flying through the throne room with but a flick of your hand that Thor called for his beloved hammer—only it was nothing like you remembered it anymore. It was enveloped in orange fire, its flames licking high up into the air, ready to devour. Blood Orange. There was only one being in this universe who was able to create such indestructible and powerful flames—Raskk, the highest fire demon from Muspelheim.

If Thor intended to use his hammer against Loki… as a Frost Giant, he would be dead before it dawned. Surely, your heart had now stopped beating altogether.

“Loki…”

The God of Mischief growled in response. His hand found yours, fingers entangling and before you knew it, he materialised the sceptre just in time to catch his brother off guard. The both of you teleported.

Knowing how much harm Raskk’s fire was able to do to your husband and king, something inside of you snapped. If they found him again… they would kill him for sure.

You felt broken and mended at the very same time. Like a thread cut in two with a pair of sharp scissors, your vision cleared to finally reveal all the colours drained from your eyesight for so long. Breathing heavily, you gasped for air in a desperate attempt to fight off a panic attack.

“Amnerys…” Loki caught you in his arms before your shaking knees hit the floor of the shabby motel he had brought you to, an inconspicuous place you had discovered a while back on the hunt for electricians to maintain what used to be Stark Tower. Loki had done well to remember the tacky place in the suburbs. You would be safe here until you could come up with a plan.

The truth was, Thor’s hammer, strengthened by Raskk’s blood orange fire, had caught you both off guard. Loki had expected any form of resistance from his brother—not, however, that he would try and end his life in such a brutal and excruciating way.

Your fear for Loki’s life… it had broken the influence of the sceptre. You saw it so clearly now… how it had been the weapon all along, dragging you down a rabbit hole so dark it had blinded you.

“I… I…” Unable to speak, you allowed him to scoop you up into his arms like a bride. Your thoughts were too tangled up to follow the harsh commands he barked at the poor receptionist behind the desk in the foyer, only dared to whimper once he had closed the door behind you.

He put you back on your feet, ensuring you would not simply drop like a marionette. “Amnerys, speak to me. Are you in pain?”

It took you another moment to pull yourself together. With a deep shaky breath, you locked your eyes with his.

“What have we done?” You whispered, your lower lip shaking. “Loki, what have we done…”

“What?”

“What have we done… the slavery, the torture, the murder… Loki… we turned Midgard into another Helheim.”

“Whatever are you talking about?”

“Don’t you see? It’s… the sceptre. It’s been the sceptre all along… it… it brainwashed us like puppets!”

“You are confused.”

“I am not. Loki, listen to me, please!”

He shushed you, pressing you against his chest. With his heartbeat against your cheek, you could not help but relax into his arms, your rapid breathing calming down again—if only a little.

“We are safe here. Relax, my queen.” His lips found your neck, planting feather-light kisses on your sensitive skin in an attempt to distract you further. His mouth on you did not fail its effect. Your eyes fell shut with a sigh as you went limp in his arms, albeit reluctant to allow him to seduce you now of all times.

“Loki… w-we shouldn’t… not now… we have to… Raskk’s fire, we… you h-have to get rid of the sceptre. Thor will listen to reason once he learns—“ You were cut off by his tongue demanding entrance into your mouth, forcing you into a kiss that stole away your breath. Loki pushed you down on the hard mattress of the motel room, one of his hands capturing your wrists to pin them down above your head, rendering you completely helpless.

His sheer strength overwhelmed you and despite your Asgardian blood, you were no match to Loki… at least not when he had you on the brink of utter submission and with pleasure coursing through your blood, clouding your mind as your body kept pleading for more and more of his pampering.

“Loki… please. Loki, listen. We have to… this isn’t right… Thor… P-please… get rid of the s-sceptre, you’ll see it’s…”

“Amnerys, stop it!” He growled with a start. His dark and chastising glare sent both fear and excitement through your veins. “What is it with your obsession with the sceptre? It is making us powerful, is it not? You, my dear, are the one with the insatiable interest in the Infinity Stones and their workings.”

“I was wrong… Loki, I was wrong, we were wrong, I…” You groaned when his digits found the hem of your dress and pushed it up your pale thighs to give himself access to your wet folds, your whole body shivering the moment his fingertips brushed against your lips and finally, parted them to reveal your throbbing clit to his greedy eyes.

“L-Loki… Loki, l-listen to me…”

Part of you wanted him to stop, to talk to him rationally but… oh… it just felt too good. Your blue eyes rolled to the back of your head, your nails digging into his naked back. You hadn’t even noticed him removing most of his clothes.

“Oh, I am listening. I will be listening to your moans and whimpers as you come undone for me, my sweet Amnerys.” He paused, indeed eliciting a defeated whine from you. “Tell me you want me inside of you.” He whispered into your ear, sending pleasant shivers up and down your spine.

You swallowed thickly. You did. Your quim was aching to be filled by him, to have him mark you with his Jötun seed and make you his like he had done so often in the past and yet… was now really the time for pleasure? Now that your husband’s life was at stake? Now that you had realised the harm you had done to this planet, to its people? You were monsters. You had become exactly what Loki had feared to turn into when he had first learned about his true heritage.

Loki made you gasp for air when he slipped two of his long fingers inside of you, curling them at your g-spot and making your back arch.

“Tell me.” He spat through gritted teeth. He was in a frenzy—and you were unable to shake off just how much you loved his dominant side, this side he had developed the very moment Frigga had handed him Gungnir. You were lost. Lost in his embrace, lost in his desire, lost in his love for you.

“I do… I always do…”

He chuckled, content with your response. Freeing himself from his remaining armour with his seidr, he pushed your legs apart meeting only little resistance and positioned himself at your entrance. A moan escaped your lips when you felt his rock-hard cock press against your slick opening, the red tip leaking pre-cum already.

He never let go of your wrists, even when he sheathed himself deep inside of you with but one firm thrust, watching with an animalistic growl how you threw your head back in pure bliss, welcoming him in. His free hand was all over your pale skin, exploring every inch of your tall body.

Your walls clenched around him at once, moulding around him perfectly and unwilling to let go of him again, no, willing him even deeper when he retreated only to plunge back in and claim you thoroughly, fucking you with a steady but firm rhythm stealing not only your breath but all of your senses.

Your mind drifted away from how Loki was still under the sceptre’s control and how it made him more ruthless, more dangerous and more villainous. His lips found yours again to keep you from talking, his strokes getting more and more frantic.

You moaned when his free hand found your clit, massaging it swiftly and applying just enough pressure to send you flying. You tightened around him fast, with his name on your lips like a prayer.

Again and again, his length grazed all of your secret pleasure spots, some of them hidden deep inside of your quim. Loki moved the way he knew he would throw himself off of this delectable cliff of pleasure with you and when you came undone, rhythmically clenching around him and milking him for all he was worth, you instantly triggered his own release.

With but a few more eager thrusts, he emptied himself inside of you, coating your walls with his warm seed of which he shot rope after rope into you. He stilled, his length throbbing hotly inside your cunt as he filled you up.

No less than ten seconds passed, seconds in which you were still pulsing around him, failing to come down from your high and the pleasure and the love you felt for this man as it overwhelmed you once more, even more so when he collapsed on top of you and you inhaled his intoxicating scent.

Another ten seconds and you could Thor’s voice bellow through the lobby. You gasped.

“I shielded this place. The motel owner must have told them. I will tear him apart.” Loki growled and jumped out of bed. Your legs were still shaking from your orgasm, his warm seed dribbling out of you and running down your inner thighs when you stood to follow, enveloping yourself with seidr to get dressed much like Loki had done and followed him—only to stop dead in your tracks when ice-cold realisation hit you. You had only just arrived. There was no way the motel owner had been able to alert the Avengers this fast, let alone reach them when they were out and about to hunt you down.

Your lips parted. “They’re after the sceptre. It’s not the owner, Loki, they’re tracking the sceptre! It must be just like the Tesseract, the stone gives off traceable energies.” And the only reason they had not done so before was proper preparation. And a risky alliance—with Raskk.

The God of Mischief slowed down and glanced at you from the corner of his eye but did not halt. Too angry were his steps leading him back towards the lobby, ready to murder the receptionist despite the unusual alliance Thor had formed with one of Muspelheim’s most dangerous fire demons.

“Loki, stop! Listen to me!” Finally, he obeyed albeit turned around so slowly you feared he might pounce on you like a wild wolf at any moment. “Please. Leave the motel owner alone. We have to get out of here, we…” You gasped once more, your feeble attempt to calm yourself with deep breaths failing miserably. “Leave the sceptre behind.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Leave it behind! Else we have to find a way off-world, Loki. Listen to me, I will not risk you dying at the hand of Raskk’s fire just because you are too keen on satisfying your enormous ego!” You shrieked, clenching your fists so hard your knuckles turned white. Your heart was pounding in your chest so loud you feared his words would be drowned by the blood ringing in your ears.

Loki’s nostrils flared. “I am not leaving our kingdom behind for Thor of all people to overthrow it!”

“Then give me the sceptre!”

“No!” The word was so loud it echoed through the entire dimly-lit hallway, without a doubt giving away your location and you realised in that very moment that he was not going to relent. The sceptre’s influence kept its steel grip on him like an unescapable prison.

Tears formed in your eyes when you swallowed, locking your eyes with his—you had never noticed how the blue colour of his irises had intensified to the point of utter mind control. Whoever was behind this… they would pay for it but for now… for now, you had to save Loki’s life.

“Then go. Take it and leave. I will find you.”

“What?”

“I am going to distract them. Go. You cannot go near Thor’s hammer.” Loki hesitated. His thin lips parted once he understood you meant to give yourself up in order for him to escape.

“You are not leaving my side.”

“Do not argue with me, Loki. You know they will not kill me.”

“No,” he growled, “worse. They will torture you.”

You scoffed. “Do you truly believe that?”

A young man stumbled out of one of the motel rooms, a pathetic whimper escaping his lips when he spotted you both standing in the hallway, and legging it instantly.

“Thor has always liked me, Loki—he knows how much I love you and why I did this.”

“If he is prepared to kill me in the cruellest way possible, what makes you think he will not make you suffer a similar fate?”

“They’re up here! Up here! Avengers! Help!” Loki gritted his teeth. With but one swift hand movement, he shot an energy blast from the sceptre into the panicking young man’s direction. It hit the railing of the stairs with an ear-piercing crack, sending pieces of sharp wood flying through the hallway. Luckily, only one of them hit the man in the thigh, who, screaming in surprise more than agony, almost fell down the carpeted stairs and straight into the Avengers’ arms—one of which had turned into a giant green rage monster.

Loki growled once more when you attempted to push past him, his free hand slipping around your waist. He pressed you close against his strong body in an attempt to teleport you both to safety once more, heeding your advice even if he would never let go of the sceptre after everything it had done for him. You spun around, cupping his face in your hands and kissed him hard.

“Go. Do you not trust your queen?”

His lips parted and he scowled. He had no need for a reply, for he did. He trusted you with his life and by the time the Avengers finally reached you with their weapons raised, only you were left standing there, your fingers tingling with seidr urging to be released to help you survive.

Thor stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you, his mortal companions following his actions suit. Your gaze found his glowing hammer spitting Raskk’s fire.

“Amnerys?”

“Hulk? Any moment now.” Widow said surprisingly calm.

“Don’t. Please. I am unarmed.” Lifting both of your hands to prove your intentions, you met Thor’s puzzled expression.

“Where is Loki?” The redhead’s voice was harsh, her glare deadly. You understood now why she was one of Earth’s fiercest assassins and yet, she did little to intimidate you.

“Gone,” you spat in response, “for now. I know where he went. But… but first… we need to talk.”

~*~

Thor buried his hands in his face. “So what you are saying is that this whole time Loki has been under the influence of the sceptre?”

You nodded, shifting on your seat. The Avengers’ hideout was filthy, hidden away in an alley you would have never even set a foot in under different circumstances.

“I have been to. That is why… by the Norns, all those people we killed… all those innocents we tortured… I cannot believe what I have done.” Looking up, your expression hardened with a start. “Loki and I have always been mischievous, you know that. But neither of us would ever have intentionally hurt anyone.”

“It’s kind of hard to believe that, you know.” The Black Widow gave you an incredulous look.

“I agree. What if this is a trick? What if it’s a trap?” Bruce whispered. He was himself again, wearing no more than a pair of ripped jeans that were way too big on him and appeared to swallow up his mortal body whole, making him look even more fragile and meagre than the humans already were. You rolled your eyes. Of course they would not trust you… but then again, you understood. You would not have trusted yourself either, not after everything you had done.

Thor lifted his chin and gave you a warning look. “I have known Amnerys my whole life. She loves Loki, she would do anything for him. I have Raskk’s demon fire—if she is luring us into a trap, my brother will not live long enough to see daylight tomorrow. She knows that… don’t you, Amnerys?”

You swallowed. All of a sudden, all you could muster was a weak “Yes”. Your heart was beating like a steam hammer, your instincts screaming at you to either run or kill. You were with your greatest enemies after all. You were with the very people eager to send your husband to Valhalla, sitting at the same table and drinking tea that might as well have been poisoned.

“If what you are saying is true… then how did you break the sceptre’s influence?” Bruce asked. And it was a good question, one you did not quite know the answer to yourself.

“I am not sure,” you responded, “I had… these strange moments of clarity, a whispering voice in my head telling me to practice caution but once…” You paused, pondering. “Loki was gone. He travelled to New Jersey and he took the sceptre with him, that was the first time I felt these… all these doubts about… about all this.” You motioned around yourself, shame and remorse once more rolling over you like a tidal wave.

“And then?” Bruce probed.

You looked up, your blue eyes once more falling on his oversized jeans. You frowned. “You. I think it was you. All I could think about was how Loki’s life is in danger, how scared I am to lose him… I think this ultimately overwhelmed the power of the mind stone.”

“You know about the Infinity Stones then?”

“Better than you think.”

“What I still don’t understand is what you’re expecting from us now, Amnerys.” Natasha tossed in. “Loki is a criminal and so are you. He will be arrested once we get his hands on him… until Thor can take him back to Asgard, at least.”

Your eyes flew in Thor’s direction. “Odin will have him executed.”

“Not if my mother gets a say in it.”

“You truly believe Frigga will be able to stop him? Face it, Thor, Odin has been looking for an excuse to get rid of him ever since Loki found out about his true heritage. Perhaps he knew. Perhaps he knew that he was still alive somewhere and yet he chose to feign grief.”

Thor opened his mouth to contradict. You cut him off before he could even take a breath.

“Swear to me on your life that no harm will come to him.”

The God of Thunder looked up, meeting your stern gaze with all but resignation and guilt. “Amnerys… I… I cannot swear. I shall speak to Mother and Father, that is all I can promise you to do. You are coming home with us, are you not?”

“Where Loki goes, I go.” It was one of the most sincere truths you had ever spoken.

“So here is what we will do then. We’ll gather the team and you will lead us to Loki, like you promised, we capture him, Thor gets him off-planet. That sounds simple enough. It shouldn’t be too difficult to overpower him now that Min-… Amy…? I’m sorry, what was your name again?” Bruce raised his eyebrows and pointed a finger at you, making you roll your eyes in response.

“Amnerys. My name is Amnerys. Out of mere curiosity… why do you not track the sceptre down again?”

“We could do that eventually but it requires a lot of power. You see, these wires connecting to the…“

“Don’t,” you interrupted, “I have no idea what you are talking about, Dr Banner. It’s electricity, that is all I need to know.”

“Well, yeah… what I’m trying to say is that it will take a lot of time to recharge without cutting the power in the entire city… which would make it even easier for Loki to disappear unnoticed.”

“We never expected you two to separate.”

You scoffed. “I know.” But we will not be for much longer, you added silently.

~*~

Loki was indeed where you had expected him to be. And you had a plan. Centuries ago, the fetid sewers of New York used to be a labyrinth made of beautiful caves and underground rivers—one of which led straight to a secret passageway to Asgard. Loki had discovered it one day, by accident, if anything, for he had been looking for a way to enter Helheim for minerals. Back then, you had been too young to comprehend that Loki had taken you to Midgard a while later.

“Are you sure she’s not leading us straight into an ambush?” Natasha whispered into Thor’s ear. With your heightened hearing abilities, however, she looked to the moist ground quickly when you turned around to raise an eyebrow at her—warningly.

“Trust me,” you spat, “if I had wanted to kill you, you would all be dead already.” You smirked. “Thor is very well aware of how powerful I am.”

Bruce cleared his throat. The sound, much like your voices, travelled through the long and disgusting tunnels seemingly endlessly. “I don’t like this. Where is he?”

“Keep your mouth shut and follow me. Loki’s hearing is as good as mine. And watch your step.” The mud, dirt and brown water to your feet had mixed with garbage only the Norns knew how old. You had already cast a spell to hide your sounds from unwanted ears—you just didn’t want to have to listen to the remaining Avengers expressing their concerns about your person like you were a mischief-maker with no heart or soul. You shook your head silently. They thought the same of Loki, did they not?

Your plan was simple enough. Loki and the sceptre had to be separated, for good. And the best way to do that, if not for your persuasion skills which had failed this time despite how infatuated he was with you, was for the Avengers to do the job for you.

You were not going to let them take him to be executed by Odin. In fact, you would murder them all in cold blood before they even tried.

Now one more turn to the left and then…

Loki would not dare use the sceptre in the sewers due to the underlying danger of collapse; he’d rely on his seidr and his swift fighting skills instead.

You turned around the corner and he looked up as if ripped from a deep thought. His face lit up when you approached him. He stood from his crouching position on the ground and away from the fire he had lit and which was throwing eerie shadows on the wall, and opened his arms for you to embrace him.

You did. A sigh escaped your lips the very second you wrapped your arms around his middle, pressing your face against his chest. “I’m sorry…” You whispered.

“Whatever are you sorry for, my queen?”

You glanced up, praying to the Norns that he would take the hint and see the deceit and mischief sparkling in your blue eyes when the Avengers entered one by one, their weapons aimed at the both of you.

Loki’s face fell, his soft expression transforming into a frightening rage. Not directed at you—but at the god he had called his brother for centuries. Staring daggers at Thor, his voice when he spoke was so dark you felt shivers racing up and down your spine.

“Did they hurt you?” He asked you.

“No. I’m fine, Loki.”

“Actually, she took us here.”

“What?”

His eyes met yours again and in this very moment, you wished you had worked harder on your telepathy skills. Loki had introduced you to the art only two decades back…

“I did this for us, Loki. There was no other way anymore.” You mumbled, inhaling his heavenly scent. He had to understand. He had to understand why you were doing things the way you were doing them.

Just trust me, you willed for him to hear in his mind.

But in the end, your unease betrayed your body, whatever happened next happening too fast for you to comprehend. Someone pulled you to the side and whoever it was, their grip felt like steel around your upper arm. There were shouts, screams, sounds of rage and torment, growls and pants and then… then you heard a pair of Asgardian shackles lock in place around Loki’s wrists, the sceptre clattering to the ground with an ear-piercing noise ricocheting through the cave. Just like that, the God of Mischief, eager to avoid the flames dancing on the indestructible metal of Thor’s hammer, was defeated. Or so they were led to believe.

They did not let you carry the sceptre, of course. Natasha Romanoff never took her eyes off of you on the way back to the Avengers’ secret base, wary and vigilant in fear of you turning the tables after all.

Meanwhile, you did not dare look Loki in the eyes, not until you would be alone together again, and part of you even longed to join him in the cell a man called Nick Fury had been working on for months after Loki’s and your triumph and beginning of a tyrannical reign.

“Thank you,” Thor said, observing his brother on the camera they had set up in the cell. He was sitting there on the wooden bench like a Greek statue motionlessly, staring holes into the metal walls with a blank face. There was disappointment, unease and even… even remorse clouding his flawless features like eerie fog on a gloomy day in the woods of Niflheim. “I owe you, Amnerys.”

“No, you don’t. I did not do this for you. I did it for Loki.”

“I know. I still owe you my gratitude.”

“Just remember your promise, Thor.” You only hoped he would not have to act on it anytime soon.

“I will. Good night, Amnerys.”

It isn’t Good night for me, you thought as you watched him walk off. Regardless of how well the remaining Avengers had prepared for this, their security measures were meagre, embarrassing almost. You were quite surprised they had not locked you up as well for the night after all, as a matter of fact. As of right now, the only thing keeping Loki in his cell was the threat of Raskk’s fire. Nothing, whatsoever, that would harm you any further than inflicting a second-degree burn.

The spell you cast that night to shield both Loki and yourself from the cameras was so simple you resisted the urge to laugh out loud as you snuck through the dark and scabby hallways and eventually reached Loki’s cell.

“My love…” You whispered. The Trickster looked up, glaring right through you for a second before finally meeting your blue eyes.

“Thanos…” He began.

“What?”

“His name is Thanos. He was the one who handed me the sceptre. He promised me victory and power in return for the Tesseract. He manipulated me. Tortured me.” Your lips parted. “I wish I had truly died the day I let myself fall off the Bifrost when I subjected to the pain he made me feel.”

“Oh Loki… this is not your fault, none of this is…”

He snorted, gaping at you darkly. “Are you still blaming the sceptre, my queen?”

“Loki…”

“I heard your plea in my mind… and yet you have signed my death sentence, my sweet Amnerys. Did Thor not tell you what will happen once the Bifrost is fully restored?”

“I do. I know exactly what will happen.” You replied as you unlocked the door and swiftly stepped inside. “They will be looking for us. They will tear the nine worlds apart in their search and yet they will never find us. We will be free, Loki. Just us. No thrones, no sceptres, no obligations and rules.”

Loki began to smirk, warming your heart. “We leave it all behind?”

You nodded, reaching out for him so you could teleport together. “We leave it all behind.”

And you would start by planting little seeds of doubt into his mind, seeds that you intended to grow into nothing but unconditional love.

~*~

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it! Head over to my blog to read more of my writing and to find my Kofi link! ♥

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like-rain-or-confetti · 3 years

Text

Not Quite My Enemy (Alec Volturi x Reader)

Don’t touch plugs kids.

If anyone in the Volturi gave you a hard time, it was Alec. They weren't particularly fond of humans yet Alec seemed to make his thoughts clearer than anyone else. The only reason you were kept around was your gift that Aro suspected was something to do with electricity. It was dangerous, but not exactly necessary. So suddenly rumour has it around the castle that you're the part of his collection that's simply for fun rather necessity. You were expected to practice your ability whilst the others trained. When Demetri and Felix discovered you most certainly weren't practicing, they made sure to drag you into the training room every session.

"You mean you want me to be the test dummy for the hand buzzer?" A guard, Simon, deadpanned in boredom. It was no secret that no guard wanted to be left with you. Frankly, the feeling was mutual. You sucked on your teeth, forcing down the annoyance. Quickly, you put your hand on Simons arm. Simon groaned, falling to the ground. "What we say nowadays is, 'Congratulations, you played yourself'. You responded, feeling a little smug. He glared at you and no one caught the small smile fighting it's way into Felix's face.

"It's not going to be much use to us if you can only do that through touch." You grimaced at the voice approaching you. You turned your head to face Alec. "Not much use being human either, if you haven't noticed." You responded and Alec's scowl deepened. "He is right." Demetri agreed. "You'll need to practice projecting it, or being able to use it all over your body." "Thanks Alec." You said with a clenched jaw now that he had guaranteed you more work. Alec hissed. "You two are genuinely at each other's throat all day aren't you?" Felix said, looking between you both. You scoffed. "He's the one with the problem. Some of us weren't given the gift of mist moulding powers." "I could only use my gift through touch when I was human. Unlike you, I put in the work to make myself better and actually useful whilst you saunter around expecting something from everyone." Alec snapped. You shook your head. "I've only ever asked one thing from anyone. I asked you to treat me with some form of decency and you can't even manage that." You glared at him. Alec stepped forward but Demetri quickly got in the way. "Right, you two. That's enough. As cute as this is, really, we've all got work to do." "He won't even tell me how he managed it." You said in annoyance. "For all I know, I should just stick my finger in a plug socket and hope for the best." "Be my guest!" Alec growled. That training session passed and you got nothing but more and more frustration as a reward. You felt as though you had tried almost everything when your previous words came back to you. You turned to the empty plug socket by the door in one of the many living rooms. It was stupid, you knew it was but in that moment it was all you could think of that you hadn't tried. Quietly, you got off the couch, moving to the socket. Nothing was plugged in and you were sure you had gone crazy when you flicked the switch on, seriously considering the idea. Even more so, there wasn't anyone to stop you. You began to talk yourself into the idea. Surely it couldn't hurt. Your gift was electricity! So surely it wouldn't hurt you...or kill you for that matter. You slowly, put your hand closer to the socket. However before you could touch it. Someone had walked in. Although you were still moving your hand closer since their reaction time was quicker. There was a gasp.

"(Y/N)!" Alec's voice rang in your ears. Less than a second later cold hands roughly grabbed you by the arms and dragged you away from the socket faster than you could blink. "What in the hell are you doing!?" Alec screamed at you. "Have you gone crazy!?" Finally you registered what he was saying. "What?" Alec grabbed your face, forcing you to look at him in the eyes. "Look at me! Are you out of your mind!? You could have killed yourself. You could have gotten hurt! Why in the hell would you ever do that to yourself!?"

Felix and Demetri rushed into the room, immediately. "What is it!? What happened!? What's wrong!?" Questions tumbled out of the two as their eyes fell upon Alec crouched over you. His hands on either side of your face. "I just caught them sticking their finger in a plug!" Alec said loudly, making you wince at the proximity and volume of his voice. "What!?" The two cried in unison. "(Y/N), you better explain yourself right now!" Demetri snapped. "I-I just thought that-earlier when you mention plug sockets-" "(Y/N), if I told you to jump off a cliff, would you do it!?" Alec glared at you. He really didn't want your answer to that. That you knew immediately. You probably would considering what would he'd do to you if you didn't. "Look at me!" Alec demanded. Bring your attention back to him. "Don't you ever do that again! Promise me!" "I promise." You said quietly. "Alec..." Demetri prodded gently, tugging his hands from your face. "Gentle." Demetri reminded him. Demetri was quick to hook a finger under your chin, tilting your gaze to look at him. "I understand you're frustrated, (Y/N) but this isn't how to proceed. You mustn't endanger yourself in such ways." You nodded. "I'm sorry." You said quietly. Alec fell back with a sigh. "Kid... you're absolutely crazy.", Felix stepped back, running a hand through his hair. There was no doubt you had given the three, even Alec, a scare. Even the leaders chastised you for it.

One particular day, things changed. Felix, Santiago, Afton and the twins were in the living room, watching the TV. When you walked past, between them and the TV, it began to glitch. The Volturi had never seen such a thing and the noise gained your attention. You stepped back. "What on...?" As you stepped back into the direction of the TV, it glitched again. "Uh...what is happening?" Felix asked. "I have no idea." Santiago replied, all eyes trained on you. The more you stared at it, the more drawn in you were. You stepped closer. "Uh, (Y/N)? What are you doing there, kid?" Felix asked leaning slightly to keep an eye on you. You pressed your hands against the screen. Slowly but surely, you pulled back keeping your arms out.

To your surprise and the others electricity flowed between the TV and your outstretched hands. You turned your head in surprise towards the guards, mouth wide open in shock. "It...tingles." You said. They said nothing in response simply staring at you. After ten seconds, the flow stopped, the TV cutting off sharply. You gasped, looking at your hands. "That stung." It was apparent that your gift was growing. However, it grew faster than you could manage. It likely didn't help that Alec had returned to his usual patronizing self.

One day you had been minding your own business when you reached to move a wire from the phone. It was only used for the receptionist to get in touch but for whatever reason, the electricity that went through the phone had instead went directly into you. You screamed in agony as sharp stabbing pains went through your hand before burning and a horrifying smell reached your nostrils. Your breath quickening, tears streaming down your face in pain. Alec burst through the door to your cries as you cradled your hand. "What!? What happened!?" "My hand!" You screamed. "It burns! It burns!"

That made Alec jump into action. He dragged you to the kitchen as you cried. "It's hurts!" You screamed. "I know." Alec mumbled. "Demetri! I need help!" He dragged you towards the sink as Demetri rushed in. "What happened!?" Alec carefully pulled your hand away from you. "I need to see it." "Don't touch me!" You screamed. "(Y/N), you need to let me see it." Alec said hurriedly.

Demetri pulled you into his chest, carefully wrangling your arm away from you as Alec pulled your injured hand towards him. "It's okay, you're okay." Demetri said quietly into your ear. "(Y/N)," Alec said carefully. "I'm going to make the pain go away." The black mist crept from his hand and onto yours. The burning quickly subsided. You let out a shaky breath and quiet sob. "I know." Alec nodded. "How did this happen?" "I just touched the phone!" You said through tears. "Your gift is growing again." Demetri said. "I'm scared." You hadn't looked at your hand, you didn't dare and Alec made sure you didn't. "Demetri, you're going to have to take (Y/N) to a hospital." Alec said, still staring into your eyes. "I won't lie to you. It's not good but it's not too bad either. I can't come with you." Your eyes widened, knowing that if he couldn't come with you then neither could his gift that kept the burning at bay. "I know, it hurts." Alec continued. "Remember what happened to me. I know what that pain feels like and I promise you, you will get through it." You wanted to forget the trip to the hospital and waiting for the pain to fade.

On the way home, your hand was bandaged up. Like Alec had said, the burn wasn't the worst, you were lucky, even though you still went through a lot of pain. The doctors gave you some painkillers and instructions to care for your wound. You were exhausted by the ordeal on the drive home. So much so you couldn't help but let out a shaky sigh. Demetri turned to you momentarily before looking back at the road. "I know. If you need to fall asleep. Do so. It's been a rough day." "It still hurts but it's not the same kind of pain." You grumbled. "It's a pain I can ignore." "Good. I'll help you with your hand. " Demetri replied. "You can take some time off too from practicing. You deserve the break." You tried to swallow the lump in your throat. "I don't want to do it anymore." Your voice wobbled with fresh tears pricking at your eyes. He turned his head. "I know. He responded softly. "Don't think about it now." There was a moment of silence. "Alec cares about you. I know you two can fight like cats and dogs but...he cares. Even if he doesn't like showing it. I think you've seen that in him a couple of times now." Demetri said. "He's so brave." You said quietly. "To go through what he did and still go on as he has. I don't think I could ever do it." "You won't have to." Demetri assured you. "Demetri? What happens if this gets worse?" You asked, a tear running down your cheek. "What if I caught fire because I was too close or-?" "Hey." Demetri said firmly, interrupting you. "That isn't going to happen. We won't let that happen. What happened today means that we must keep a closer eye on you and not push you so much as we have." Not long after that conversation, you fell asleep and remained asleep for the rest of the car ride. Demetri decided he would let you sleep, taking the extra effort to lift you out of the car with the help of Jane who took your stuff and had been waiting for your arrival.

You spent most of your day sitting by the window, looking out watching as the world went by from the library. It was the one place you could be guaranteed peace... most days. Demetri came to find you every now and then to tend to your bandaged hand. Whilst many let you mope...one individual did not. "Get up." Alec stared down at you. "It's been three days and you've done nothing but sit here and sit in your room." "I'm not bothering anyone." You mumbled. "You're bothering me." Alec responded flatly. "No one else will tell you but I will." "Alec I don't want to do this today." You sighed. "You don't want to do anything, (Y/N). That's the problem. I don't care what you want. Get up!" You sighed. "You seriously can't do it can you? You can't just leave me alone, you always have to give me hell even for just sitting here." Alec rolled his eyes. "Spare me your pity party. There will always be someone, like I am now, in your way. If this is your response, you'll get nowhere." "Have you taken a moment to consider that maybe I don't want want to do this anymore? This has gotten bigger than me and I don't know how to handle it. You'd think with a power that life was easier but it's not. It's worse and now my power makes me a stranger to myself. So much so that I burned my hand by simply touching a phone. Why should I want to go any further when I could be dead the next time?"

To your surprise, Alec moved closer to you, leaning over you slightly. "So you've hit rock bottom, right?" He asked rhetorically. "As far as your concerned, you couldn't get lower. Well now you have a choice. You see every human that feels that way, wanders in the dark empty place until they find stairs. The dangerous part of it isn't the loneliness or what lies in the dark. It's the human mind that is the monster you're looking for. You see those stairs are your way back up again and so many humans out there find those stairs and refuse them, simply because the stairs won't drag the humans up to that better place in their lives. Instead they'll give the stairs an ultimatum, to drag them up there knowing the only real way to get to the top- is for them to climb it themselves. Don't expect anything to come to you. Right now, you're expecting everything to get better while you sit here and do nothing. You're locking yourself in a cage, in the dark so you can't see the top. Take the damn stairs, (Y/N).” Alec blinked, pulling back slightly. "You're stronger than that. So don't give in now."

Everyone was surprised to see you return a week later, especially after being so determined you wouldn't use your gift ever again. Yet there you stood in the training room, ready to try. Felix smiled at you and Alec gave you a brief nod from the corner of the room. You nodded at them both in return, filled with uncertainty but the urgency to try. Some had tried to be a little more patient with you, although others were no different.

Eric, a lower guard that was never particularly nice to you. He had a chip on his shoulder from not being very high ranking in the guard. He enjoyed having control and power, his position had him giving no orders and only taking them. Naturally, since you were a human, he took it out on you. The only person he could. "No! You idiot!" Eric snapped. You have to avoid me! I told you not to shock me!" "I'm sorry! I can't bend it like that ye-" You cut yourself off with a screech as Eric pulled your hair, hard. His grip vice as he pulled you towards him. "I will make this hell for you if you don't do this right!" He finally let go. Your scream cut some attention. "What is going on here?" Alec asked, approaching you both with Felix and Demetri behind him. "They keep shocking me! They're doing it on purpose, they're supposed to avoid me! I've taught them a lesson." Eric scowled, crossing his arms and glaring at you. Alec looked at you with an empty gaze. You rubbed at your head against the fading sting before meeting eyes with Alec. You hadn't wanted to hurt Eric and you were doing your best. Instead of giving you hell, Alec kept his gaze on you stoically. "You need to apologise." He said smoothly. Your gaze flickered down momentarily as you swallowed. Eric stood in waiting for your apology. Although Alec took his eyes from you and towards Eric. "You. Apologise." "What!? Why should I!?" Eric protested. "You've interrupted multiple training sessions. So you need to apologise." "They interrupted with their insolence! I taught them lesson. It's a tantrum!" Before Eric could continue Alec suddenly moved behind him, reaching up and grabbing Eric's hair. Eric yelped in pain. "Now who wouldn't scream when their hair is being pulled?" Alec pondered with a sigh before squeezing harder making Eric cry out again. "See? You're screaming too." Alec finally let go. "We'll deal with you later...arrogant moron." Your eyes widened slightly. You had never heard Alec insult anyone with name calling. Furthermore it was at your defence. Felix and Demetri tugged Eric away before Alec moved his gaze to you. Your eyes were wide, jaw almost dropped. Alec smirked. "Did you just defend me?" You asked quietly. "No one gives you a difficult time other than me." Alec answered simply before leaving. As endearing as it was, the statement was also an admission in your eyes. So he did know he could give you a tough time. Although it was also rather sweet, there was a protective nature behind it.

Later that night, you couldn't get it out of your mind. You were so deep in thought that you didn't even pay attention to the TV in front of you in the living room. Alec was a difficult person but lately you had begun to see him in a different light. Whilst he could be very brutal, you couldn't deny that lately he had been so for your safety as well as your defence. You remembered how he helped you when you had hurt your hand, distraught when you made a reckless decision and finally that he defended you when he really didn't have to. You had always thought he didn't like you, it's what made you close yourself off from him. Yet lately, he acted like he cared.

Your thoughts were cut off when you noticed a hand waving inches from your face. You blinked, realising it was Alec. "Oh, hey Alec." "You were lost in thought." Alec smirked, sitting beside you. "Yeah...I was. I was thinking about what happened earlier today." "Felix and Demetri dealt with Eric." Alec said to you flatly. "I meant about you. You stuck up for me today. You didn't have to." "As I said before, (Y/N). No one gives you a difficult time but me. That's my job alone." It was a joke yet it also held a lot of truth. "Yeah...I suppose that's true." You said finally, looking at your lap. "What?" Alec said turning his body completely towards you. "There's something else, I can see it in your eyes." You smiled bashfully at his observation. "I guess I just...I thought you hated me and yet you've been there for me a few times now." "I don't hate you, (Y/N). I never have." Your brow furrowed in confusion and Alec continued. "You can drive me to madness but perhaps that's a good thing. I've never wanted to be your friend." You winced at the blunt nature of his statement and couldn't deny it stung but Alec continued. "I've discovered that you've become very special to me, so much that a friend would suffice. It wouldn't be the right fit. I suppose my dissatisfaction with that may have been directed at you." "What do you mean?" You asked quietly. Alec thought for a moment. "I believe the first signs was when you went to put your finger in that socket. My reaction was out of my control and i couldn't believe my reaction after that. When I knew, however, was when you hurt your hand. I know what it feels like to burn and seeing you experience a burn. I knew I was the only one that could help. I felt connected to you then, because you understood what it was like. We shared a similar experience. You needed me. That was when I knew I couldn't ignore this...when I no longer wanted to pretend that I didn't care for you." You were stunned into silence. Alec didn't seem surprised by that. Although he was surprised when you lightly pressed your lips to his. "Thank you..." You whispered. "...for everything. I know you and I don't always see eye to eye but thank you." Alec's eyes were softer this time. He lightly grabbed your shirt, pressing his lips to yours once more. Despite his lips being cold, you couldn't help but feel warmer as your heart fluttered with excitement.

You felt the blood rush to your face and when Alec broke the kiss, he smirked. "That's adorable." Your eyes widened a fraction, your blush deepening. "Don't tease me! I was surprised!" Alec chuckled. "it's getting worse." "Alec! I can't help it!" You covered your face with both hands. Alec tore your hands from your face, planting three more kisses to your lips before pulling back with a satisfied smirk. "It's cute." Alec paused. "Well, we best inform my sister of this. Felix and Demetri will be surprised." Alec said with ease. "I thought you all could hear everything." Alec hummed in amusement with a small smile. "My sister already knows oh my feelings for you. However, Felix and Demetri went on a mission and won't be back until next week." "Oh...this isn't a trap for you to kill me with your sister right?" You smirked. Alec rolled his eyes playfully. "I'm sure you can handle it."

The week passed relatively quickly considering Alec kept you with him most of the time. He had warned up to you considerably, seeing a whole other side to him. Whilst there was times he kept you at arm's length, you never felt shunned or led on. Although you had no doubt that since both twins knew of his feelings before you did, they had more time to prepare than you had.

You were watching TV on the couch when you felt hands on your shoulders. You smiled looking up to see Alec, eyeing the TV. "I could have sworn you have watched this already." Alec said, his head tilted slightly. "It's a good one!" You retorted reaching up for Alec. With ease, Alec reached for your hands, coiling his fingers in-between your own, smiling slightly as you smiled up at him, craning your neck back. It was at that moment Demetri and Felix entered. "So good that your watching it again, merely a few days later?" Alec raised a brow with a smirk. "Don't judge me!" You playfully huffed as Demetri and Felix slumped on the couch opposite you. "Judge you? Never. Question you? Always." Alec leaned down, tilting his head to kiss your cheek fondly.

Felix narrowed his eyes on the two of you before nudging Demetri. "Dude, I could be hallucinating after all this time so is it just me or are Alec and (Y/N) being extra... affectionate?" Demetri lulled his head from the back of the opposite couch to look at you and Alec as Alec sat beside you, pulling you into his side. Ignoring Felix and Demetri you leaned your head on Alec's shoulder and Alec was quick to wrap his arm around you to pull you close to him. His head resting on top of yours. "...Funny, it appears I am having the same hallucination." Demetri murmured, his eyes also narrowing. "Either we've fallen into an alternate dimension or those two don't realise they're cuddling up to each other." Felix mused. Alec rolled his eyes. "(Y/N)?" You looked up at him. Alec moved immediately to press his lips to yours briefly before moving back to his previous position. This made Felix and Demetri straighten up, eyes wide. "What is happening right now!?" Felix said loudly. You couldn't help but giggle at their confusion.

#twilight #volturi #the volturi #alec volturi #reader #one shot #oneshot

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