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archangelmacaron · 1 year

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NTMF College AU Chapter 16

In which only one character (take a wild guess who) is not severely uncomfortable. :)

(You would think I hate Jillian for the awkward situations I put the poor dear in ;-; I don't I love her ;-;)

Enjoy <3

Beyond that, her friend did not seem to be wearing pants and Jillian did not recognize the large shirt she had on—it was far too big for her, and looked to be a masculine cut.

Noel was sitting on the bed, the devil kneeling on the floor in front of her. Only one of her prosthetic legs was on, the other was in his large, pointed-fingered hand—and his other hand seemed to be touching what was left of her leg.

The devil's red eyes shot from her to Noel, seeming to say something. Noel gave him a pained face, then grinned awkwardly at Jillian. “Um, s-sorry, Jillian, I kind of stumbled and dropped my leg, so Caron is helping me...”

“Noel, where are your clothes?” Jillian wasn't sure why those were the first words to come out of her mouth. Noel seemed to turn a bit redder.

“They—they are right here! I wasn't going to sleep in jeans and a sweater, so—so um, Caron let me borrow—“

“That's his?!?” Jillian was annoyed at how shrill her voice sounded. Noel turned even redder. She didn't think she had ever seen her elegant friend so out of sorts.

“Y-yes, but it's... um...”

The devil stood up, distracting her. Noel stretched out the false leg he'd been working on, nodding that it was satisfactorily attached. Jillian felt ill as she then reached up, and the devil took both of her hands in his, helping her upright. She gave him a warm smile in return, not letting go for just a moment longer than was appropriate.

Jillian's vision was tunneling. She focused on breathing.

I need to stay calm this time. I can't help Noel if I panic again. Just. Stay calm, and observe...

He's... really playing the part of a gentleman, isn't he... Pretending to help her with things—things that she only reluctantly accepts my help on, even!

Looking at him now, he's very elegant, and dressed so stylishly. He's clearly a very smooth talker, too...

Noel's never even been on a date, she's never really had any crushes before, either. The way she's looking at him, it's clear she's attracted, maybe for the first time ever... so he probably seduced her so, so easily...

She blinked back tears. How am I supposed to fight that?

It's going to be like that time I tried to talk to Ribellio about how Spica treats him. It didn't work, it just made him and Spica closer... 'Us against the world,' she said to me, with that wicked little wink... He said he wouldn't tell her I'd talked to him but he had to have, she was clearly gloating that I couldn't get through... and I could never talk to him alone again. I blew it.

I can't afford to blow this!

“Should I leave, so that you two might talk?” the devil said, as smoothly as she had expected him to. Noel gave him a worried look, he gave her a small nod—and Jillian recognized that once again, something had passed between them, some communication she wasn't in on.

How deeply... has he already gotten into her head...

“It's fine. I was just leaving. You can't go out during the day anyways, right?” Jillian was surprised at how angry she sounded, even as she was planning out calm words. “So you'll be here, right?”

“Jillian, where are you planning to go?” Noel walked towards her. Something about seeing her in just the oversize shirt and her bare prosthetic legs, the heavy plastic and false joints exposed, made her look extra vulnerable—and extra trapped. The devil behind her was watching her with an expression Jillian couldn't read—she could safely assume it was something malicious, perhaps a hunger for whatever it was he was going to rip from her friend, who now only looked concerned for her.

She doesn't even realize it...

Jillian focused on swallowing her anger for a moment.

“Fugo and I are going to the Performance Hall,” she said, her habit of answering Noel truthfully kicking in before she could think better of it.

“You're going to try to get into the forbidden tomes to research getting rid of devils, aren't you.” It wasn't a question. This time, Noel had almost read her mind.

At least... we haven't lost that... We're still best friends, he can't take that away! He can't!

Noel's face now had a pleading expression. “Jillian, please... you can work with me. I need information on the ceremony, I'm going to try to—“

“I do not think it wise to tell her much more, Noel.” The devil interrupted her. He crossed his arms and gave Jillian what seemed to be an icy look. “I think she has made it clear that she does not intend to support you on the path you have chosen.”

“Are you going to stop me?” Jillian demanded, glaring up at him. She was surprised that anger was what was keeping her from panicking—sheer rage that this thing had dared to seduce her best friend, was going to try and harm her Noel—

The devil met her eyes calmly. “No. I do not have need to. You can do whatever you wish.”

That arrogance... he doesn't think I can do it. I will—I will exorcise you, or kill you if I have to—I won't—

Noel gently touched her arm. “Jillian... please. I won't stop you, and Caron will not either, but please.... please promise me you won't involve anyone else.”

Jillian couldn't meet her eyes. Noel took her hands before she could jerk them away. “I do not wish to isolate you when this situation must be scary for you as well, but you must understand that if you report that there's a devil with me, or you go to the faculty or security office for help, I might genuinely be killed. We do not know who all wishes for my death amongst them or why. I understand your greatest worry is what Caron might do... but please do not forget how I ended up in this situation.”

She's right. I have to do this on my own. I can't trust anyone—no, that's not entirely true. I can trust Fugo. And Oscar, too. I bet he won't help me, if he trusts in Noel's actions... but I at least know he won't stand in my way, either.

“I won't. I'm not stupid, Noel, you know that. I'll make sure to avoid Spica and Ribellio, too.”

“Has Spica contacted you again?” The devil was looking at her sharply again. She glared back, not intending to answer, but she saw the question repeated in Noel's eyes and had to.

“No, not since she met me at work.”

Noel bit her lip. “I don't like not knowing what she's up to. I did lie that my phone was dying and that I didn't have my charger, so that might be why she hasn't texted me at all, but...”

She shivered, and when the devil pulled a blanket off the bed to drape it over Noel's shoulders, Jillian thought she might truly attack him on the spot.

Stop... faking... this! Stop playing with her mind!

Noel smiled in thanks before turning back to Jillian, her face falling. “Jillian... please be careful. I've been assuming that I'll be the only target, but... I guess I don't really have anything to base that on.”

“You do not,” the devil replied. He gave Jillian a bit of a side-eye. “As I am certain you will be unable to dissuade Jillian, perhaps we can recommend that Fugo remain with her.”

Noel nodded. “Yes, Fugo will be an excellent body guard with his fi—um, I mean, Fugo can definitely keep you safe, Jillian. And you do not have to worry, he is dead set against my plans as well. He won't betray you in this.”

I'm right here, you jerk—don't talk about me like I'm not!

Jillian's eyes narrowed ever so slightly at how Noel had stumbled in the middle of her first sentence. So Fugo has a secret, too? Maybe I can't trust him after all...

“Take care, too, Noel.” She turned and left the room without saying anything else.

“Didn't have a good talk, huh.” Fugo was leaning back with his feet on the polished dining room table, his hands crossed behind his head. Jillian frowned at him. It was fairly obvious that Oscar was the one who was keeping the place as neat as it must have been when their parents were alive, and it was a bit obnoxious that Fugo would be so disrespectful towards it all.

“No. Fugo, can you take me to the Performance Hall now?” she asked. “It's Sunday, so it should be closed, unless they're doing a ceremony rehearsal...” It wasn't something she'd considered until just then. I don't know that I can lie my way in, or sneak past anyone... what am I even thinking? I'm already in so over my head... But I need to save Noel!

“Yeah, I think I can help you out even a little more than that.” Fugo winked at her, holding up his hand. A keyring was hooked on his index finger. He spun it playfully.

“What are...”

“Snagged 'em from Os. Don't tell on me, 'kay?” He grinned. “He's still doing a little clean up, but I borrowed his bike to get back first.”

“Clean up?” Jillian asked, heading towards the hallway to get her shoes. Fugo followed, nodding with a slightly pained expression.

“You should probably be aware that Noel and Caron were at the library last night... and so was I.”

Jillian paused with her shoe halfway on. “You were?”

“Yeah. Let's not talk about that just now though, okay? We have more pressing things. Did you tell them where you were going?”

She nodded, pulling on her coat as he handed over her purse. “They can't go out in the daytime, right? Caron would be spotted pretty quickly.”

Fugo made a face. “Not... necessarily.”

He opened the front door. It was still fairly dark, but the main reason she couldn't see was a heavy, frozen fog hanging in the air. Jillian frowned. “Well, at least they seemed too distracted to notice the weather... we should hurry. We need to get there first.”

“Too distracted?” Fugo's face twisted in disgust. “Ugh, you gotta be... please don't tell me they were—“

“I will not tell you that and you will not share that thought either, Mr. Dressel!”

“Don't yell at me, I didn't even wanna have it! You're the one who implied—”

“I did not imply a single thing! You have a very perverse mind—“

The pair continued to argue as they headed off the porch and towards Oscar's bike.

#fanfic

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ava-achlys · 3 years

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The Boyz NSFW Scenarios

Kim Sunwoo - Hands Off [Requested]

softdom!Sunwoo x gf!reader

Request: Sunwoo likes to play with his girlfriend's breasts

Warnings: mentions of bullying, body image, underage drinking, anxiety (very brief), titfucking

Long overdue request for @ace-seventeen-world , I hope you like it! Also first time writing anything about titfucking, I hope it turned out alright. 🙏🏽

Sunwoo loves you even when you don't feel like loving yourself.

Being well-endowed since puberty hit meant you received a lot of unwanted attention from all genders. Some would pass judgement, calling you desperate for attention; and some would ogle and make lewd comments. This led to you coming to school wearing oversized baggy clothes and even turtlenecks no matter the weather. The less your body was apparent for people to judge, the better, you thought. Except the comments never stopped. You were so sick of your body being the talk of the student population of your small-town high school that you couldn't wait to graduate; and move far away to start afresh in college, where you futilely hoped that people would be more mature about these things.

Moving away for college turned out to be the best decision you made. You made a whole bunch of new, more mature friends who taught you to embrace and appreciate your body. Inappropriate comments from strangers still came your way, but with your new, reliable support system, you learnt to shut them out, and your girlfriends would even try to fight them for you, which made you feel very touched and grateful. Apparently, this sincerity didn't stop with just your good friends. That was also how you met your current boyfriend. Your friends had convinced you to come with them to a party during your first semester, and you allowed them to doll you up, upon much pestering. You were dressed in a nice blouse and skirt, which turned some heads at the party, and though you felt rather self-conscious in the beginning, you loosened up after a few drinks and dances. From there, you didn't care if people paid good or bad attention to you; all you wanted was to have fun with your best friends.

One of your friends introduced you to a gaggle of other first- and second-years, who were very loud and goofy, except for one; who had previously been laughing boisterously along with them until he set his eyes on you. He abruptly stopped laughing when you made eye contact, and you could have sworn he developed a light flush. With pouty lips and dark eyes, and a mop of fluffy black hair, he smiled shyly at you, nodding in acknowledgement and softly introducing himself. His voice was deep and had an attractive drawl and a pleasant raspiness. His name was Sunwoo, and you ingrained it into your memory easily, smiling shyly back at him. You mostly kept to yourself as the rest of them chatted, nursing your drink when a flurry of words and a loud slap shook you. You whipped around to see one of the boys, with cotton-candy hair and sharp feline eyes rubbing his arm and muttering under his breath next to Sunwoo, who was staring at you while whispering something to the boy - Eric, was it?

"Apologize!" Sunwoo hissed, nudging him. You tried to back off but Eric nervously came forward and rubbed his neck sheepishly, stuttering an apology while avoiding your eyes. He didn't specify what he was apologizing for, but you already had an inkling. All your friends were now staring at you, confused as to what had transpired. Unable to handle the stifling awkwardness, you quickly murmured "It's fine, Eric," before speedwalking away to get some fresh air, unaware that a certain dark-haired boy was scurrying after you. You turned to the nearest balcony and hurriedly gulped some fresh air to calm down, all-too-familiar feelings of panic and shame drowning you. You fought back tears, ignoring some of the smokers occupying the same space, who were looking at you with a mixture of confusion and pity. You managed to calm your breathing, and blink back tears, when a figure slowly comes to stand next to you. He doesn't look at you out of courtesy, fixing his gaze straight ahead. "Are you alright?" he asks softly. You nod firmly, trying to seem completely calm. "Eric... sometimes says things without thinking, but I know that's not an excuse. I just want to apologize again, for making you uncomfortable." His voice is gentle and soothing, and you tilt your head to face him, since he was a bit taller.

"It's not your fault, but thanks Sunwoo. And don't worry, parties aren't really my thing, I just came cause my friends were begging me to join them," you chuckle softly, to which Sunwoo gives you a lopsided grin.

"I feel you on that. I'm here to look after my idiot friends."

You share a good laugh, and spend the rest of the evening getting to know each other, but conversation comes easy, like you've known each other for years.

You and Sunwoo's paths seem to cross often, apparently because his faculty was right next to yours, and soon your friend groups merge and become one massive group, and you've even forgiven Eric. Days turned into months, casual meetups turned into lunch and movie dates, and soon you and Sunwoo are constantly switching back and forth staying over at each other's apartments.

Ever since you two started dating and you've gotten used to wearing more comfortable clothes around him, you've noticed him staring at your chest every now and then, but at least he had the decency to look apologetic and embarrassed whenever you catch him. You started to tease him, and he would bashfully hide his face and whine cutely. To get back at you, he'd purposely keep his hands cold and hug you out of nowhere, just to hear you squeal, knowing you're ticklish. Sometimes he'd be even bolder, trailing his hands up your sides and cupping your breasts under your shirt, especially when you walk around the house with no bra on. He'd do it when you're cuddling on the couch watching a movie, or worse, when you're trying to study. You didn't mind it usually, since you appreciated the support from his hands since the weight of your breasts takes a toll on your back, and you weren't fond of wearing a bra 24/7. Except the little shit likes to tease, jiggling them around and squeezing them when he's being extra playful, even grazing your nipples with his fingertips; chuckling lowly in your ear when you gasp or squirm in pleasure.

One night in bed, you confront him jokingly. Your period was on its way soon, and your breasts were feeling extra tender and swollen, something you had complained about, so your dear boyfriend very happily obliged, massaging them gently to ease your discomfort. After a while he gets bored, and starts prodding them, round eyes watching intently as they bounce. You can't help but laugh at how adorably fascinated he looks, so you ask him why he's so enamored by your boobs.

"They're just.. fun to play with, yknow? Bouncy and squishy. Can't help myself okay, you're just so perfect," Sunwoo grumbles, blushing again since he got caught.

"Yeah? What if I lose weight and they get smaller? Will you still like me then?" you ask, feeling rather self-conscious, irrational worries that he only likes you for your assets filling your mind. You try to ignore them, knowing your relationship with Sunwoo was much more than superficial, but trauma and bad memories keep causing you to doubt yourself.

"Of course I would!" Sunwoo gasps, reaching up to hold your face urgently but with such a tender gaze in his eyes. "It's still you, and you'll always be perfect, and I love you no matter what."

Tears welled up in your eyes when he said those words. Few people had treated you with such genuine kindness and you were so grateful to have him as your partner. You squished his cheeks together and pressed a kiss to his lips, surprising him. "I love you too, Sunwoo," you whispered, a small smile on your teary face. A cheeky grin slowly replaces the shock on his face. "Shall I show you just how much I love you?" he drawls, crawling on top of you, making you lay down on the bed. Sunwoo positions you to nestle comfortably against the pillows, helping you take your shirt off afterwards.

Your cheeks start to heat up at Sunwoo's intense gaze raking over your body, and your arms habitually come up to shield your breasts, but he's quick to catch them, gently pulling them away. "Don't be shy. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met, inside and out," he murmurs, making you blush even harder. He kisses you deeply, before trailing his lips down, pressing light kisses down your neck and across your chest, gently nipping at the skin just above your right nipple. He resumes massaging your breasts, admiring the way your face scrunches up cutely in pleasure, his warm hands on your skin making you sigh happily. He leans down again, tracing a circle around your areola, making you shiver. He teases you a little more, flicking your hardened nub with his tongue before finally latching on and suckling on it, rubbing it periodically with his tongue. His hands are still massaging your breasts, twisting and tugging on your other nipple.

He pulls off with a satisfied 'pop' when you whine, pleased with how raw and puffy your nipple has become, glistening with an abundance of his spit. He dives back down to subject your other nipple to the same treatment, but this time, his free hand creeps down your tummy and between your thighs. You moan when he grazes your clit with his fingertips, and you can feel his plush lips smirk into your skin, obviously proud of himself. You willingly part your legs, and he dips his middle finger straight into your folds, your juices coating his finger instantly. He raises his head to look at you, eyebrows raised cheekily. "So wet already, babe? Always knew your nipples were so sensitive," he chuckles, slowly pumping his finger in and out of you. You shut your eyes, the stimulation of his mouth on your chest and his hand on your pussy clouding your mind. He inserts another finger and pumps you faster while he drags his teeth against your puffy nipple, making you shiver and moan even louder.

He starts leaving hickeys and bites all over your decolletage, looking forward to seeing those pretty marks bloom purple tomorrow morning. Finally, he eases up on his ministrations on your chest, and focused on fucking you hard and fast with his fingers, slamming three digits into your core, gleefully watching the way your breasts jiggle from the impact. He glances up at your face, finding your head tossed back, soft mewls and moans falling from raw, bitten lips. You're clutching the bedsheets in a death grip as Sunwoo starts sucking on your clit as he fingers you. He sucks hard, nudging it with his tongue every so often as he slows down his thrusts, opting to scissor you open and drag his fingertips along your walls, rubbing hard against your g-spot when he finds it, indicated by your shrill yelp. "B-babe, gonna c-cum," you gasp, still writhing in pleasure. "Go on, love, cum for me," he mumbles against your core, and soon you're clenching on his fingers, coating them with your cum, and he continues to fuck you through your climax.

Gasping for air, you wince as he pulls his fingers out, pussy clenching on nothing as you watch him idly put them in his mouth, sucking them clean. He smiles lazily at you, telling you how sweet you taste and even gives you a kiss, making you taste yourself. Your cheeks turn crimson again, and you decide you want to return the favor, having felt his hard cock pressing against your thigh when he leaned down to kiss you. You eye the tent in his jeans, and start unbuckling his belt. He looks at you in alarm, grasping your hands to stop you. "Baby, you don't have to do that, this is about you," he smiles gently. You pout at him. "But I wanna help you too! I have an idea that I always wanted to try with you…" Sunwoo takes a moment to consider, making sure you were genuinely comfortable doing so, and his eyes glimmer with anticipation when he nods in agreement. You beam wordlessly at him, helping him out of his jeans and boxers. You can't help but lick your lips at the sight of his erect cock.

Sunwoo's dick always made you feel good, whether it was fucking your pussy or your throat, but you always wondered what it would feel like sliding between your bountiful breasts. You pull him up to straddle your chest, and his eyes widen when he realizes what you want him to do. "Really?" he gasps, dick twitching with excitement when you readily nod. He chokes on a moan when you swipe your finger up his cock, gathering his dripping precum to slather it between your breasts. He slowly slides his dick into the valley between your breasts as your hands push them together, making it even tighter around him, and he groans lowly. Sunwoo thrusts shallowly, loving the way the smooth skin of your breasts feels around his aching cock. He begins to take over, his larger, warmer hands replacing yours, squishing your tits together as he rocks his hips faster, becoming addicted to the the feeling. It wasn't much physical stimulation for you, but you felt yourself getting hot again watching his face contort in pleasure, his tightening grip on your tender, sensitive breasts rather arousing. You can't look away, mesmerized by how good he looks with his lower lip caught between his teeth, grunting softly as he uses your tits to get himself off.

"You look so hot like this Sunwoo," you murmur, your hand resting on his thigh as he continues to piston his hips. He barks out a breathless laugh, "Have you looked at yourself properly? You're fucking gorgeous, babe, don't you ever forget that. Although, I'm down to remind you all the time." he winks. You smirk at him, and your hands come up to squeeze his muscular ass, the same way he likes to squeeze your boobs. He's got a nice butt, you had to admit, toned and sculpted from years of various sports, and it was your weakness the same way your breasts were his. He moans louder when he feels you groping his ass, hips stuttering as he approaches his climax. He throws his head back as he fucks erratically, squishing your tits even tighter together and you keen at the rough treatment. You coax him in a soft whisper to cum all over your tits, and soon he does, painting your chest white as his hips slow down, and he's gasping for air. A little bit of his cum has spurted onto your lips, but you willingly lick it up and smile up at him, your hands still soothingly rubbing his cheeks as he comes down from his high.

You grab some wet tissues from your bedside drawers and clean up your chest as best as you could, wiping away all the cum before Sunwoo flops next to you, resting his head on your chest the way he usually loves to. You lay there in comfortable silence for a while more, stroking his hair and you feel him smile into your skin, his finger absentmindedly tracing the hickeys he's left across your breasts. Maybe going to that party all those months ago was the best decision you ever made (second only to moving here for college), and maybe you and Sunwoo finally get out of bed to shower, and maybe you go for a second round in the bathroom, filling the steamy air with echoes of wet skin slapping and soft proclamations of 'I love you's.

#achlys: tbz imagines #the boyz smut #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #the boyz #the boyz sunwoo #kim sunwoo #sunwoo smut

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shintin · 2 years

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Forget Me Not: Chapter 27 (Monster)

↳ Gojo Satoru x Female Reader

Description: Imagine that from the moment you opened your eyes into this world, you had no choice but to kill and shed the blood of others, that you had to fight alongside Toji Fushiguru and die with him.

What would you do when they force you to do something you don’t like? When the torment of conscience presses on your throat, will you give up? Now think about a day that life gives you another chance; how would you use it?

This is the story of a murderer who seeks salvation. Will she find it in the arms of Satoru Gojo? Or will pain find her sooner than redemption and drive her out of heaven forever?

Genre: heavy angst, sad love story, maybe tragedy, violence, lonely hearts, broken souls, +18.

Tags/Warnings: nothing

Song Recommendation: Lady Gaga - Teeth

Chapter index -> Next chapter

Year: 2019

"I can't believe that idiot is late again!" Yuji said and leaned against the wall, folding his arms with anger. Yes, as you can see, after he was traumatized by the scene of Y/N being kissed by Satoru, his status was reduced from a "Dear Sensei" to "That Idiot."

Megumi, who was seated on the stairs a few steps from Yuji, raised his eyebrows and looked at his friend with surprise. Wasn't it him who always kissed their Sensei's ass? He placed his hand underneath his chin. "For the record, Y/N is also late; why aren't you angry at her?" He seemed drowsy and hated that their sensei was still late even for his own plans, and now Y/N seemed to have acquired his bad habits.

Yuji glared at Megumi. "We both know why Y/N is late! That idiot sleeps in her room! I swear to God, he's corrupting Y/N." He exhaled furiously and frowned. Was Y/N a relative? Nope! Were his behaviors reasonable? Not at all! Then how come Yuji was so worried about her? Who knows.

"Ah, Yuji! Don't start again! You're still whining about it! It has nothing to do with you! Y/N likes him! Get over it!" Megumi rubbed his forehead. Gojo was pretty annoying, and now he must have put up with Yuji, too.

Yuji stepped away from the wall with clenched fists to stand before Megumi and was about to start his long, boring speech about how careless Gojo is, how he will break Y/N's heart and how she deserves someone better. Still, Megumi pointed to the gate before he could even open his mouth.

Yuji turned his head and saw Y/N talking with Satoru and smiling at him as they were approaching the two. Seeing Y/N's happiness made his frown disappear, but his fists remained clenched. The boy was at no fault. Y/N was one of the nicest people he knew, and he didn't want to lose her one day because of the mistakes of his foolish sensei. So the boy had to do what he had to do.

"No Yuji! Wait! Don't do it!" But before Megumi could stop the No. 2 idiot, he had long ago reached out to Y/N and the No. 1 idiot.

Yuji ran joyfully toward them, standing there with the greatest fucking smile in the world on his face. "Good morning, Y/N," his tone was highly cheery for a Monday morning. Strange even if we look for another word to describe it. I mean, someone with a sane mind over their head would frown Monday morning and curse heaven and earth. But let not judge Yuji. The boy usually had a couple of loose screws, and now the king of curses was living in his head rent-free.

"Good morning, Yuji." She yawned and placed her hand on her mouth. Yes, she'd gone through another sleepless night. The poor girl was so tired that, as the author, I found it necessary to ask Satoru, Come on, dude! Give her a rest! She has other needs too, you know! Like what? Like sleeping at nights, you asshole!

But let's forget about my conversation with Gojo and go ahead.

Finding Y/N tired, Yuji glared at Satoru and sighed angrily. He knew very well who to blame for Y/N's exhaustion. But was he the reason behind her tiredness? Or was there any other reason? Because after the missions, her wounds were no longer easily healed, and she seemed weaker and weaker days by day.

"Hello to you too, Yuji. I'm fine as well." Satoru tried to make fun with his student, but hearing his cold "Good," hit him like a slap in the face. 'What have I done to deserve this?' He pouted.

Yuji stood between the two as a third wheel and totally ignored the presence of Satoru. He kept talking to Y/N. "Are you excited to see Yuta? He is the only sorcerer that possesses the greatest amount of cursed energy!" The two started walking without paying attention to the manchild.

"Really? I thought Satoru was the strongest sorcerer! Satoru? Are you deluding yourself into being the strongest?" She said laughingly and turned her head to see his face after hearing it, but she suddenly stopped. He wasn't with them. She looked back to find her 29-year-old boyfriend-whom rumors had said his mind could function 24/7- was standing on his last spot with folded arms, staring at her and Yuji.

"Satoru, why are you standing there?" She asked in surprise. She was convinced a long time ago that even the wisest men in the history of mankind could not fully understand the function of this man's brain.

'Thank goodness she noticed my absence at least before she was miles away. What a lucky man I am!' He held his hands on his chest, and his gaze fled from his dear girlfriend to the frowny frat boy, Yuji. 'What is wrong with this boy?' Satoru lowered his sunglasses and started looking at Yuji, mimicking his actions.

Ladies and gentlemen, one of them was the strongest sorcerer in the jujutsu world, and the other was the vessel for one of the strongest curses in the history of jujutsu, but as you can see, they didn't have a brain cell combined.

Y/N's gaze shifted between Satoru and Yuji. Oh! Her brain was not ready to digest these juvenile behaviors in the first hour of the morning. So she turned on her heel before the testosterone in the air could suffocate her. "Let me know who is the winner of your frowning contest," and she made her way to her favorite black-haired boy.

Seeing Y/N approaching, Megumi raised his head from the phone and noticed that she was rubbing her forehead. A faint smile settled on his lips. She was the only one in the school who could relate to him about the torment of putting up with Yuji and Satoru. "Did they drive you crazy as well?" Megumi put his phone back into his pocket.

"Don't ask! What has gotten into them? I didn't expect him to act as child as Satoru!" She adjusted the scarf around her neck. "Anyway, where is Nobara?" She looked around.

"She is with the second years and Yuta. By the way, have you heard of him?" Megumi got up, put his hands in his pockets, and began walking with Y/N to the backyard.

"Not really. All I know is that higher Ups wanted to execute Yuta and It is enough reason for me to love that boy without knowing him!" She applauded with joy, and Megumi could swear that there was a glimmer of madness in her eyes.

"You're becoming more and more like Gojo Sensei every day, Y/N, should I be worried?" The poor boy couldn't stand a No. 3 idiot in his life. No, not anymore.

"No! If I ever become this irritating, please choke me in my sleep," she winked at him, and a smile came across her lips at the same time. She enjoyed hearing their names used in the same sentence—her little silly guilty closure.

"Hey, look who decided to show up at last!" Nobara's voice was heard from a distance. Y/N quickly raised her head and looked at the orange-haired girl standing next to Maki, Toge, and Panda, with a long distance away from the boy with black hair in a white uniform. He must be Yuta.

"Where are Gojo and Yuji?" Nobara looked at Y/N and Megumi, with her hands on her waist, tapping one of her feet on the ground.

"Don't ask," Megumi responded briefly, greeted Yuta from afar, and then walked towards the rest of the second years without wanting to shake hands.

'This boy is turning into a complete antisocial.' She thought, and then she turned her face and looked at Yuta with interest. His face was pale with dark circles under his eyes, but the boy always had a smile on his face.

"Yuta this is the Y/N Maki speaks of all the time. You and Yuji and she can officially run an execution survivors club." Panda winked at Y/N.

Yuta looked at her face carefully and bowed completely before her from where he was standing. "My name is Yuta Okkotsu, nice to meet you." What a polite boy.

"My name is Y/N Kamo, and I'm glad to have the honor of meeting you," she took a few steps closer to the boy when suddenly several screams were heard at the same time.

"No, Y/N, don't go any further!"

"Please stop there!"

"Y/N! No!"

"Rika, no! she is not a threat!"

"Y/N! run!"

"Mustard leaves!"

But before Y/N could react, a curse suddenly appeared before her with claws only a few centimeters away from her face. Her breath was stuck in her chest, and her eyes were closed to stop the burning breath of the curse from striking her face. She wanted to activate her technique, but a firm hand wrapped around her waist and pulled her back until her back hit a tough thorax. Satoru.

Y/N opened her eyes and noticed his tight grip and dead serious face. It wasn't like this was the same man acting like a child with his student.

Her gaze fell upon Satoru's forefinger and middle finger, which stood together. And that's when a feeling of cold took hold of her spine. Infinity.

Yes. The knight of history hurried to Y/N as soon as he realized she could be in danger.

"Rikaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa," the curse opened her mouth and shouted aloud, but fortunately, her saliva stopped a few millimeters from infinity. She seemed to feel threatened by Y/N and sought to defend Yuta against her.

Meanwhile, as everyone looked at Rika with fear, Yuji looked at Y/N, then the hand around her waist and the worried eyes of Satoru. His Sensei gaze was fixed on Rika, and his hand was standing by to attack the curse if necessary. It was then that Yuji's brain eventually managed to do 2+2, and he realized that this white-haired man was willing to do anything for her. Even if it meant exercising the curse attached to his student.

Yes, Yuji, your dear Sensei was fucked, and he was prepared to destroy not only that curse for her but all the curses and whoever wanted to hurt her. After all, she was the only person who had seen the real person behind his strongest mask and had broken the hard shell around his heart.

Y/N gently grabbed Satoru's hand, squeezed it a little to ensure her lover that she was safe. He looked at her with hesitation. She was smiling, and that was enough to soften his stern face. She caressed his hand with her thumb. "Don't worry, Satoru, I have done this before," she murmured while unwrapping his grip. He never had the power to resist her.

He turned her to face him. "What are you talking about? All you've absorbed is the cursed energy of the third-grade curses! No offense to your intelligence, but this one is a special curse! You can't skip the second and first-grade curses that easily! You are not a nerdy, Y/N!" His tone was even more firm than his grip on her arm. Don't get him wrong; he didn't mean to hurt her, but fear manifests itself in different ways. "Excuse me, but I can't let you kill yourself in front of my eyes!" He tried to pull Y/N, but she didn't budge.

"I never asked your permission, Satoru!" She grasped his wrist with her other hand and took her arm out of it.

Satoru's astonished eyes moved from Y/N's hand to her serious face. She had made up her mind, and he had no choice but to let her go. Oh, he hated these moments. He hated having to let her slip out of his palms. "And if anything bad happens to you?" He never took his eyes off her.

She placed her hand over his shoulder, struggling with the urge to caress his cheek in front of the students. "Then catch me before I fall," she turned her face away from him.

Satoru, despite all the cells in his body shouting at him not to let her go, released his infinity. Everything in their relationship revolved around trust. He trusted her not to fall, and she trusted him to catch her if she fell.

Yuji turned his face. He knew she was safe with him. He would never let anyone hurt Y/N, but he knew full well that people could always do more harm to their loved ones than to anyone else.

"What do these two fools talk about?" Nobara asked Megumi in the whispered voice.

"I can't read anybody's lips!" Megumi answered with indifference and turned his gaze towards Y/N.

"Oh my God, what the hell is she doing?" Nobara shouted loud because now Y/N had decided to approach the curse as though nothing had happened a few minutes ago.

"Y/N? Have you gone insane? If you want to die, I can kill you myself." Maki screamed from afar, but Y/N made another step.

"What do you say we don't disturb Miss Curse anymore?" Panda's nervous voice came through.

Megumi's gaze quickly shifted from Y/N to his Sensei. See, there are natural phenomena in the world that you have to be in a certain place at a certain time to witness them, like Aurora Borealis, Night-blooming cereus, Fogbows, Lenticular clouds and... and spotting a glimpse of fear on Satoru Gojo's face was one of those rare moments.

Megumi turned his face away. So his sensei was a human after all, and like all human beings, he was afraid to lose his beloved as well.

"No, Y/N, please, stay away! Rika doesn't have a good relationship with sorcerers," Yuta, with sweat on his forehead, begged her to stop. But to his surprise, Y/N went one step further.

"I'm not a sorcerer, Yuta, don't worry, she won't hurt me," she smiled at the frightened boy.

"Yutaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa," Rika's scream sounded threatening, but Y/N looked at her with interest as if the most beautiful creature in the world was standing before her. Now the claws of the curse were in her hair, touching her skull.

"Well, your name is Rika, huh?" Her tone was calm. Like someone who seemed to be talking to a seven-year-old. Could she see the soul of the little girl in the curse?

Rika shouted again, though this time, she seemed calmer than before.

"I don't mean to hurt you, I know it hurts, I know better than anybody..." She wasn't lying. She could see how she and Yuta used to play in the park together, how the two had promised to be together forever, and how Rika had lost her life in an accident, And from that day on, she kept her promise as a curse and never left him alone.

She smiled at Rika, perhaps something no one had ever done to a curse before. And it worked. Rika believed her. She pulled her claws back and lowered her head. The curse seemed calm without any intention of attacking anymore.

Now, as the author, let me teach you a special recipe to make a monster stop feeling monstrous.

First, you give them something they can hold in their palms, to feel it without crushing, something sweet, and you tell them to keep it.

Then you wipe the blood from their hands. You say their name, over and over, like an absolution.

And finally, you forgive them.

You forgive them.

Now tell me, do you want them to feel human again? Yes? Then love them. Love them so much that they can no longer hate themselves.

And Y/N knew it all. Why? Because Satoru had given her his heart, he had wiped the guilt from her hands; he had whispered her name in her ear from dusk till down without getting tired, without losing patience, without regretting for a moment. He had embraced and kissed the monster that had stared at Y/N from the mirror. He had fallen in love with her. And he hoped that one day his love would be enough for her to forgive herself.

Without taking her eyes off the curse, Y/N gently untied her scarf from her neck and held it out to Rika. The curse stared at her face and then at her hand. She hesitantly brought her claw forward and took the scarf from her. Y/N nodded with a smile. She then wrapped an imaginary scarf around her neck, and Rika emulated her actions, wrapping the scarf around her neck. No one's ever given Rika anything except Yuta.

The surprise on the faces of the other witnesses from that scene was indescribable. None of them have ever seen such a thing.

She looked at Satoru, and their eyes met. He shook his head gently, trying his last chance to stop her, but his eyes were only reading "I love you" on her lips. A bittersweet smile appeared on his lips, and she turned her face with relief. She had done everything she had to do before doing what she was going to do.

Her hands rested on the Rika's temple, and she leaned her forehead against hers.

Pain. Pain. Pain.

What happened afterward was beyond Y/N's expectations. Her breath was stuck in her chest as if somebody was stealing the air from her. She couldn't hold Rika any longer. Grief took the place of blood in her veins, filled her lungs, and gushed like tears from the corners of her eyes. Was death always so painful?

How much sorrow there was in the world for a girl to endure with her tiny hands. Was that fair? Why should all bad things happen to good people? Why... Her mind felt dizzy. Everything was too much. A special grade curse meant an endless source of negative emotions, and her body was too weak to hold out. She gave herself up and was taken by Satoru before her body hit the ground. One of his arms under her legs and the other supporting her back like a groom carrying his bride.

He lowered his head to her face, and when her breath hit his ear, he sighed in relief. "You stupid, stubborn bitch, Y/N." Satoru said angrily and saw how a faint smile appeared on her lips.

"Yet you caught me," she whispered, and her eyes got closed. His embrace always made Y/N feel alive; it was as if a soft blanket was wrapped around her. So her hands circled his neck. She needed to get closer to him. If she knew what would happen, she'd save him a little more for the days to come, for those days when there was no Satoru and its warm embrace.

"I'll catch you forever," he looked at her tired face. Only I, the author, knew how much he controlled himself not to kiss her. How could he love her and yet fall in love with her again and again—every day.

"Is she all right?" The students hurried there and surrounded the two with concern visible on their faces.

Satoru turned his worried face into his usual goofy one. "Oh, don't worry, kids! She had just watched How to train your dragon and she was carried away to try it in real life! Today's lesson is to remind yourself that you should not try everything you see on the green screen. It's stupid," he winked at the children, and his famous smirk appeared on his lips. "Now, if you allow me, I have to take this crazy woman to Shoko," and he and Y/N immediately disappeared from their sight.

"Did you just see what I see?" Maki asked from the group while rubbing her chin.

"You mean Rika and Y/N? What was that about? Was she trying to absorb her energy?" Yuta asked, scratching his neck.

"I think Maki meant the worry on Gojo Sensei's face that he was trying to hide. It is clear that he cares a lot about Y/N," Panda exchanged glances with others, and they nodded.

"Then my nightmares have come true! What if Y/N likes him too?" Nobara punched her forehead with her palm. Then something popped into her head. She turned her head toward Yuji and Megumi, oddly quiet. "Hey! You two! What're you hiding, han?"

Yuji tried to show more interest in the grass on the ground so that Nobara's question and Megumi, on the other hand, acted like he didn't hear a thing, trying to play dumb by looking at the sky.

"Yuji and Megumi! Consider yourself dead. You knew about it, Spill!

We all know that the sun can't always be hidden behind the clouds.

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mingkii · 3 years

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LOVE AGAIN ─✎ 송.민기

❖❳；Pairing; Song Mingi x Fem!Reader (ft. P1h's keeho, itzy's ryujin, and wooyoung)

❖❳；Genre; Greek mythology au, angst, reincarnation au.

❖❳；Words ; 6.2k

❖❳；Warnings; Mentions of death.

❖❳；Synopsis; A mission to find your lover who was reborn in the mortal world became a mission for heartbreak as you watched him fall in love with someone else.

❖❳；A/n; I honestly don't know what happened near the end, very disappointing but oh well. Not very proud of this so im sorry and don't get your hopes up.

❖❳； Note; My entry for @/sleepylixie and @/delicatewerewolfsoul 's hamartia collab. This might contain inaccurate representations of greek gods but for the sake of the story, just go with it. Slightly modernized as well.

The sun rises on the horizon, casting light all over Olympus, waking the gods in slumber, reminding them of the work they need to do. However, you wanted to fight the sun for rising so early. The rays piercing through the depths of the ocean, just enough to peek through the windows of your room.

You stir under the covers, not wanting to get up. The light blinding your closed eyes, preventing you from going back to sleep. You were honestly hoping you won't wake up the next day. You didn't want to wake up in agony knowing there's nothing to wake up to. You still picture his crescent eyes when he smiles, his laugh that echoes in your ears as if he is there with you. His hands that felt soft and warm left a mark on your skin, reminding you of how he held you in his arms.

Every night you see him in your dreams— for a while at least. Your heart was hurt, it wanted to remind you of all the things you could've done, but it knew that if you kept dreaming about him, you would have died grieving years ago.

A loud knock on your door suddenly erupted, a groan escaped your lips. You rolled to the other side trying to bury your head under the covers to drown out the sound. Then, your door busted open, making you sit up in surprise.

"What the fuck," you furrowed your brows, watching your father fix the dislocated door hinge.

"Don't use such language on me, young lady," he leans his trident beside the door. "You have a very important schedule to meet your suitors today."

Your eyes widen, "Suitors?!" You shrieked, your father's face contorts.

“Father, I think this has gone long enough for you to know that I am not interested.” he let out a sigh. He’s well aware of that.

"Look, I understand, but I will not have you sulk for the rest of your life just because that good-for-nothing son of Athena died," your blood boiled at his words.

"No father, I don’t think you do understand," You said with resentment.

You tried to bury the tears back down, not wanting to cry in front of your father. The pent up anger made you want to lash out like what he said was the last straw but your pride was much stronger.

"It's rude to keep them in line, they've travelled far just to get here, so I suggest you make yourself presentable and be there as soon as possible," his last words before shutting your door closed behind him.

The knick-knacks on your shelf shook as your father slammed the door shut. He wasn't mad, he was just….strict, as your father and god of the sea, you are under his territory thus, giving you no choice but to follow him.

You laid back on your bed, pulling the covers, letting out a muffled scream into the blanket. Only kids get treated like this, he acts like you aren't already a hundred years old.

You didn't want to meet another batch of mermen with plastic smiles and fake personalities. They were only after you because of your title, daughter of Poseidon, god of the sea, with a legacy that soon passes unto you. You had sisters and brothers, you didn't understand why it had to be you, but Poseidon himself already had it all planned.

You swam near the big stadium-like structure, with large pillars that were carved so intricately in quartz. The end of the stadium planted Poseidon's throne where he sat so elegantly. You hid behind the pillars, spotting the men that were seated to the side, waiting for your arrival, but you already decided you weren't going to attend. Not this time.

You took the longest route to Olympus, making sure no one spots you, escaping the suffocating vast seas that used to be called home.

"You know one day I could get killed by your dad," Wooyoung set the teacups filled with hot liquid on the dining table where you sat.

It's been a while since you set foot on land, you didn't miss it, the painful after-effects of walking for too long did make you wonder how land dwellers live.

"He won't since I made him promise it," your cheeky smile made him roll his eyes.

"But won't he easily find you here?"

"He will but he couldn't be bothered to travel all the way here," you took a sip from the cup, hot liquid running down your throat.

"I'll be home by sundown, can't have him wash Olympus just to find me," you force out a laugh, wooyoung giving you a sympathetic look.

He knows you are still mourning. Deep inside you are still in pain, but you try to keep it hidden.

"You know, it's been years and he is still bringing me these men I barely even know and he wants me to pick one to marry?" You planted your forehead on the table, hiding your face in frustration. "It's getting annoying." After those annoying years of having to pretend you are ok and just sitting pretty in front of dozens of merpeople, making yourself look like a prize in a glass box waiting for a winner to take you home.

But of course, it's still your choice and you chose to be with none of them.

"Were any of them attractive at least?" You hear the familiar charming voice. You look up to see Wooyoung's mother— aphrodite— adorned in her usual attire, laced with gold sequences, a headpiece in gold, and jewellery that complimented her skin.

You shook your head as you gave her a soft smile, "They always have this forced appearance to look strong and the wide creepy smiles that they think will help attract me to them," she listens to your rant, pouting slightly, "What a shame, you know your father's taste was never that good," she winked. You knew she was talking about your mother, whom you didn't know that well since she is always focusing on your brothers.

"I thought you went out early," Wooyoung questioned. Aphrodite cupped her son's cheeks, kissing the top of his nose.

"I just forgot something dear," you giggled at her ways of babying her son. Fixing his hair and touching up the light makeup he puts on every day. You can't deny how attractive Wooyoung is, you could see the features that he inherited from his mother.

"Poseidon won't stop what he is doing though, I suggest you do as his wishes y/n, or you'll face his consequences," strips of memory to that day cross your mind again. It was truly painful to recall, it made your heart clenched and you wanted to scream your head off.

"Look, whatever it is you want to do, just make sure it isn't something stupid," Wooyoung held your hand in his, rubbing your skin with his thumb. You remembered the last stupid thing you did.

You were grateful to have met someone like Wooyoung, he has always been there for you. Even though your father had been skeptical of him for so long, he still let you be around him.

But you can't promise him this time because another stupid idea just popped up in your head.

"Are you kidding y/n? Didn't we just talk about this?" Wooyoung follows you from behind as you walk through the forest. The last time you were here was the day your world fell apart.

You swore to not cross paths where it reminded you of him but right now, it is important.

"Look, demigods are bound to be reincarnated, there's a chance I could see him again," you explained, stepping on sticks and pebbles, slashing through vines and large leaves with your bronze dagger. Mingi wasn't like you or wooyoung who had both parents that are gods. Like Athena, he was created by her from her mind. He wasn't born….normal.

"And then what? What will you do if you see him?"

In all honesty, you didn't plan that far, all you thought of was to meet mingi in the mortal world. Wooyoung's concern for you just became worse when the silence answers his question. You have no plan, you just wanted to see mingi again.

You ignored Wooyoung's continuous nagging until you reached your destination. The tree that grew sweet magical berries that can only be found deep in the forests of Olympus. The berry that could help the gods enter the mortal realm.

"Y/n…." Worry settles in, Wooyoung knows the side effects of these berries. You weren't as powerful as your parents who were able to visit the mortal realm on your own, you needed help and you were certainly not gonna ask your father.

"I'll be fine," you picked a few handfuls of berries and stuffed them in your bag, "Atlantis won't be that far, If I need to, I’ll just come back." You smiled at Wooyoung.

"I leave tomorrow."

"What about your dad? Won't he get mad?" You two made your way back out of the forest, taking the path of where you came from.

"I just told him I'm sleeping at your place for a while," Wooyoung freezes in place. As expected of his role as your best friend, he's responsible for covering you up.

"You owe me big time."

Arriving at the mortal realm, alone and slightly scared. But the sight of what seemed to be the city made you giddy all of the sudden.

You walked around exploring the beautiful structures of the city. Tall buildings surrounding the area, billboards, and giant screens with lights and flashing colours. You were overwhelmed at first but it was quite interesting. It was nothing like you have seen before.

There were tons of people who wore casual attire, some wore suits as they travelled to work. Big buses and cars drove by in the streets— you almost got run over by one, not knowing the purpose of the blinking traffic light; the horrendous sound of the car horn almost did make your ears bleed.

Settling down on one of the park benches, you took a break from walking. The sandals you brought weren't doing any justice for your feet.

Your surroundings were peaceful, pink flowers scattered across the concrete, different coloured leaves decorating the trees, getting ready for the fall season. Suddenly, you felt a gust of wind. The eerie grey smoke rising in front of you. Chills running up your spine, your mind having a clear idea of where it's coming from.

A cold mischievous laugh emitted from within, your initial reaction was to pull out the dagger from your side, clutching the handle tight until your knuckles turned white.

"Relax, it's me," the same annoying voice you dreaded hearing.

"Ryujin, what are you doing here?" You scowled. She was bad news— the spirit of mischief lives within her, wherever she goes, chaos follows.

"Hmm, are you not happy to see me?" Her Cheshire cat-like smile plastered onto her face as she took a seat beside you, crossing her leg on top of the other. Her hair was shorter than the last time you saw her, eyes still full of mischief.

"I was hoping to not see you again after the incident 20 years ago," you spat, hatred lacing your words.

"Right, the poor boy, died so soon," her face turned into a sad look before smiling once again.

Ryujin was the main cause of his death. Your father just made it happen. Leading Mingi to that place in the forest where she knew your father was there, he hated Athena's children, he wouldn't hesitate to kill one in sight.

You wished there was a way to go back in time to stop Ryujin from leading Mingi to his inevitable death. But as expected, she felt no shame or guilt whatsoever.

"What is it that you plan anyway, there is a reason for you to come here, right?"

You kept your mouth closed, not wanting to possibly give your plan away for the spirit of mischief to take its course. And so, you kept quiet. Ryujin clicked her tongue in annoyance. She wished she could read minds, but that's her brother's power.

"Fine, keep it to yourself," she stood up, grumbling something under her breath, "Just so you know, I am not leaving without having a bit of fun," another gust of wind blowing in your direction leaves swirling in a circle on the concrete just below her feet, the puff of smoke covering her figure as she disappeared.

Your mind was in shambles. Usually, she would try and pressure you into answering but she brushed it off so soon.

You let out the breath you didn't know you were holding, the weight suddenly leaving your chest. Sometimes the presence of Ryujin gives you this uneasy feeling, but it was better than getting a visit from her brother. He is ten times worse.

You finally adapted to the mortal world, got a place to stay all by yourself. There were obstacles on the way but you got over them easily.

You lay quietly on the bed, and to be honest, it was a bit uncomfortable. The covers are placed over you up to your neck. You stared at the ceiling, counting rams in hopes of helping you fall asleep. And on your 1117th ram, your eyes finally grew heavy.

But to your dismay, your throat decides that it was parched. You sat up from your bed, wearing your slippers, and made your way to the kitchen. Grabbing a glass and filling it up with water, but before you could take a sip, you saw a figure on your couch.

You dropped the glass, shattering across the floor. The figure whipped his head around and you couldn't believe your eyes. Is this a dream? You must be dreaming… You might have even gone mad.

"Mingi?" You stuttered. You haven't called out that name in so long.

"Y/n, be careful you'll hurt yourself," he stood from the couch, making his way to you. You took a few steps back. Mingi's face shows a look of confusion.

He stepped on the glass unfazed by it. Did he not feel that? Of course, this is a dream, he's not real.

"What's wrong?" His arms out to reach for you.

"N-no, I'm dreaming, this can't be—" you shook your head, tears pricking your eyes. You felt warm hands cup your face, it was so real, your knees so close to giving out.

"What do you mean?" His eyes were the same shade of brown. His hair is styled the same way he always has it in.

"You're real?" Your voice croaked, mingi chuckled. The same smile you saw years ago, but as expected, his face started to fade. This is definitely a dream. It was impossible to have mingi physically there, you saw him….die, right in front of your eyes.

"Of course I'm real," his voice was soft, comforting even. You were really hearing his voice, this is his voice. He pressed his forehead against you, kissing the top of your nose promptly.

At this point, you couldn't stop the tears from falling. You sobbed making mingi pull away and look at you with worry in his eyes.

"Please don't leave me again," you pleaded. You wished it was real, your chest grew even tighter. What kind of cruel punishment is this?

"Why would I leave?" He wiped the tear on your cheek. "I'll always be here," he said in reassurance as he pulled you in his embrace. You missed it so much—you missed him so much. The same warmth was still there, but it eventually started to feel cold. Like Hades was paying a visit to take him back to the underworld.

You finally got to see him again, even if it was only a dream, it really felt like he was there, body and soul present. You didn't want to let him go, there's no way you are losing him again.

His image starts to fade, you start to feel the emptiness again. His hold on your body began to feel like nothing, it was cold like ice. You tried to grip his shirt, keeping him from disappearing. You spewed out pleas, begging him to stay. At Least for a little longer.

But then you woke up, hot liquid running down your face.

You were crying, something you haven't done in a long while. Slapping your cheeks, making sure you were really awake.

"Come one y/n, it was just a dream," you said to yourself out loud.

20 years and you thought you were over him. But those agonizing years were torturous. Everything seemed to remind you of him. Wooyoung almost didn't see you for 18 years until you finally decided to visit him. You wouldn't know what to do if wooyoung was never in your life, you might as well have been asleep for the rest of your life.

The clamshell that sat on your bedside table glowed. It was a magic shell that sends messages back and forth in writing. You gave one to Wooyoung so you could communicate from a distance.

"Did you find him?" The letters glowed as they appeared.

"Not yet." you wrote back, watching the writings disappear indicating that he is reading it.

"Time is ticking y/n." Anxiety washes over you again. Soon the berries won't be enough to hold you there and you'll be needing to come back home.

"Y/n, you there?" A voice startled you, making you almost drop the shell. It would be bad if you did, it was a fragile thing, you could risk shattering it and won't have anything else to communicate with.

"In here!" You called out, quickly hiding the shell in the dresser.

"I brought lunch," mina smiled, holding up a paper bag filled with takeout.

The day you moved in, still exploring the apartment that you rented, you heard a knock on your door.

You peeked through the peephole. A woman stood in front of the door patiently, short brown hair— half of it tied into a ponytail— dressed in a leather jacket and denim pants. She looked about 20, maybe 21 but she doesn't look older than 25.

You almost pulled out your dagger but resisted, remembering that they are mortals and you could get in trouble. You slowly twisted the doorknob open, opening it slightly so your body is visible but not the room.

"Hi, I'm mina!" She said in a bubbly tone. Her energy made you slightly overwhelmed. "I'm your neighbour, just next door." She pointed to the apartment beside yours.

You nodded, not knowing what to reply. "Have you finished unpacking?" You tilted your head in confusion. "Do you need help with boxes or anything?"

You looked back in your apartment, body moving aside just enough for Mina to have a clear view.

"Did you not bring any stuff?" You shook your head.

"I only brought a satchel," you gripped the strap that hung across your body. She gazes at the small bag attached to your body.

"Well, it looks like you need help settling in, why don't I cook dinner for you? You don't seem to have any pots or pans or food either." Your stomach grumbled at the mere mention of food.

Mina giggled, making you heat up in embarrassment. "I'll take that as a yes."

Since then Mina has been your source of food and company. She's been a great companion for the past few days. You told Wooyoung all about her and he just replied coldly. The thought of your best friend getting jealous of your new mortal friend made you laugh.

"So, I just started my 3rd year of college, and honestly, I am tired of it— I've been thinking of dropping out but then my mom might whoop my ass…" Mina rants while you sit there, zoned out watching the floor like it's the most interesting thing in the world.

"Earth to y/n," mina waves her hand in front of you, snapping you out of your daze.

"Oh sorry, What were you saying?" The girl pouts, eventually brushing it off to discuss other things.

"Oh right, so I met this guy on campus and he is like, really cute. He is super tall and like, maybe a bit built..." You listened to her attentively but still in the back of your mind you couldn't help but discuss your plans on how to find mingi to yourself.

"Should I ask him out?" You blinked— you weren't paying attention again.

"I'm sorry?"

"The guy I met on campus on my first day, should I ask for his number?"

"Oh totally, you should," you said plainly, you feel really bad for not paying attention but you couldn’t help it when your mind is being occupied with something else. Mina just brushed it off, not noticing your spaced-out expression. She continued rambling while your mind wandered.

Time was running out, you needed a plan.

"Remind me why I am on your college campus again?" You said, mina dragging you by the arm. She woke you up at an ungodly hour just to travel early to her college campus. Few students were walking around campus, on their way to their scheduled class.

"Look, I barely have friends, also do you go to college? You look to be around my age," your eyes widen. Atlantis doesn't have schools, you had to travel to Olympus just to make it to class, but you only had to go until you turned 18. And you are immortal, you haven't been to school for a hundred years.

"I graduated," you just said. Hoping she won't ask further questions.

"Oh so you're older than me then," you nodded. She stopped to sit by a tree in the campus garden, patting the grass beside you. You sat beside her, leaning on the tree.

"I don't have class 'till after lunch, we can grab something to eat before you can go back to your apartment," she took out her textbook and paper to finish what she didn't the day before.

"Sorry for dragging you, You are always locked up in your apartment so I thought why not take you here with me," you were planning on exploring more of the city, just to take note of the possible routes to get around.

"Won't I get in trouble? I don't go here."

"You are fine, besides, it's an open college, anyone can visit here," she explains as she gets back to her work.

Your eyes wandered off somewhere else, spotting the students who were early, sitting on the grass as they got some sleep under the trees. Some were reading books and some were having their breakfast.

It makes you sleepy after a while, deciding to lean your head against the tree, closing your eyes for a brief moment.

A pair of shoes tapping against the grass, crunching the leaves on the way. You didn't bother to open your eyes so you just stayed and listened. Must be one of mina's friends as you hear her voice ushering for them to sit.

They sat on the other side of the tree beside mina, talking about classes and homework but something about that voice tingles your brain. The familiar deep husky voice made your heart ache. You were confused as to why you were reacting that way.

Soon the person left and you were forced to open your eyes when mina shook your shoulder abruptly.

"Guess who just gave me their number," she said, grinning from ear to ear.

"Who?"

"The hot campus boy," she squealed, waving the paper in her hand. "His name is mingi and it's kinda cute and his voice was deep, not that deep, but like...deep."

Your eyes widen, "mingi?" She nodded. You felt like your world stopped spinning. Your mind is in shambles, processing the information. Your ears deafened the sounds around you, muffling mina's continuous babblings.

You thanked the gods that he's here, but then reality hit. He doesn't know you for he is only a reincarnation of the mingi you knew. He is no longer the son of Athena, he is just human.

"Are you sure it's the mingi?" Wooyoung's message appears from the clamshell. You lay on your bed, a book on your lap as you were reading just a while ago.

"Yes, Mina's description fits so perfectly," you bit your lip, anxiously fidgeting with your necklace. What if it wasn't him? You can't confirm that it really is him, he has no memory of his past life.

"Ok, so what are you gonna do now? You found him, what's the next step?" You mentally slapped yourself for being unprepared. You wanted to see him again, that was your main goal, and now that you know he's here, you have no reason to stay.

You want to be with him but it's impossible, you are immortal, he'll age while you stay young. Well, nothing much was changed when he was a demigod, but he had the opportunity to become immortal. It's not like there is some way a mortal can become immortal.

…..or is there.

"I'm coming back," the writing disappeared letter by letter as wooyoung's message appeared right after.

"Really? So that's it?"

You shook your head as if he could see you. "I have a plan"

"Oh no," wooyoung thought. Letting out a deep sigh. "She's gonna get into more trouble isn't she?" Wooyoung wished that somehow something would knock some sense into you.

"Y/n!"

"Mina, hey," she threw herself at you, engulfing you in a tight hug.

"I'm gonna miss you," she squeezed around your neck, restricting your airflow.

"Mina," you patted her back, making her apologize with a sheepish grin, "I'll be back soon though, you don't have to miss me too much."

"I know— wait, are you free right now? I was wondering if you wanna go eat before you leave," you thought for a second. Though it isn't difficult to travel back to Olympus, you're unfortunately on your last berry.

"Sure," you hoped it'll last you for another few hours.

Arriving at a restaurant with mina, ordering food as soon as you sat down. Your eyes wandered around. The restaurant was busy, waiters quickly passing around, trying to get to the customer's table as soon as possible.

"Finally," Mina says, standing up on her seat. You turned your head to the person she was referring to.

"Sorry I'm late, I got stuck in traffic."

"I invited mingi, I hope you don't mind y/n," Mina says with a sorry smile.

"I don't mind at all." That unsettling feeling soon washes over you, seeing mingi stand in front of you, face to face. You find it weird to see him like this like he didn't die. He looks like the same mingi years ago, it just felt….different.

You took your seats again, Mina helping mingi order his food. The three of you waited for your orders, chatting about anything that comes to mind. Mina talking about classes and homework that is due and mingi asking if any of you were free to a party this weekend.

Of course, you can't go.

"So, Where are you from y/n?" He asks you. His voice sounded so natural to you but at the same time, it felt foreign, like you just heard of it now. Technically you did but, the way demigod reincarnations work is they get reborn the same. Meaning they'll look the same, speak the same, and their personalities are most likely the same. Nothing will change once they get reborn— except, they won't remember anything from their past life.

"Atlantis," you blurted out, panic rushing through you. You can see the confusion in their faces.

"Like, the lost city of Atlantis?" Mortals, what are they teaching them?

"I mean Atlanta," you corrected yourself, body stiff as stone.

"America? That's far, do you have a flight?" Mina intervened. You didn't even know where that was, you just so happened to remember that book you read before coming here and the main character lived in a place called Atlanta.

"Uh yeah, sure," you felt cold sweat trickling down the back of your neck. You just hope they won't ask any more questions.

You let out a sigh of relief as the two of them get back to chatting with each other.

Finally, the food arrived and the sooner you finished the sooner you got to go home. And with your last berry, you popped it in your mouth after the meal.

Leaving the restaurant with mina and mingi you were finally able to go back to Olympus.

As you are ready to part ways, Mina engulfs you in a tight hug, cutting off your airflow. "Mina, you're squishing me," you said in a choked out voice. "Be quick ok," she gives you a final hug before walking in the other direction.

You waited until the coast was clear and hid somewhere secluded.

You arrived safely and with just a minute to spare. You were gonna go to wooyoung's place first before going back to Atlantis when you saw a lightning strike. A gust of moist air blows your way, a growling thunder piercing through your ears. Your mind immediately assumed that it was Zeus but when the clouds cleared you saw your father, sitting on a cloud with his trident on his lap.

"Father," you said, greeting him with a bow. Though he didn't look pleased with seeing you at the gates of Olympus, he still gave your hair a ruffle.

"You have me worried sick y/n, where were you?"

You expected yelling, hearing these words and this kind of tone shocked you. Especially even after telling him that you were staying at wooyoung's but still found you at the gates

"Look, I know I may have gone too far— with...you know, the marriage," he admits. Avoiding eye contact with you as much as possible. Not that it wasn't sincere, he just wasn't used to admitting he was wrong. But he loves you dearly and he'd do anything for you.

"It's ok, I actually forgot those happened." there was an awkward silence. Then, Poseidon left, after informing you of what time dinner was gonna be.

You finally arrived at your best friend's house and instead of a worried wooyoung, you were met with a furious wooyoung.

"I knew this was a bad idea, your father almost killed me!" He said. You rolled your eyes at the exaggeration.

"Relax wooyoung, nothing happened," you placed your bag onto his bed, taking out the souvenirs you got.

"Did he say anything to you? You are still alive so I'm guessing you haven't met yet?"

"I met him at the gates and he said he was worried." Thinking back to that moment made you shiver, it's like someone replaced your dad with someone completely different.

"Huh, well ok then— Ooh what are these," he was quick to change the topic as his curiosity fills in. Wooyoung takes the bag of candies you brought, ripping it open to take one of the wrappers with the sugary treats inside. You chuckled, watching wooyoung chew on the candy.

He notices your gaze stuck on the floor while you get lost in your own thoughts.

"Hey, did something else happen there?"

You snap back into reality, taking a while to process what wooyoung just said. You shook your head in response.

"Actually, is there a way to stay there without the berries?"

He stares at you for a moment, he honestly thought you were done and you weren't going back there. It's dangerous for you since you are not as strong as your father. Even with something more efficient than a magical fruit, you are bound to get in trouble.

"My mom has a necklace," wooyoung says, he didn't want to say it but he knew how important this is to you. Eventually you'll stop, knowing mortals and gods cannot stay together forever.

"She used to make me wear it when she let me go to the mortal world with her."

"Can I borrow it?"

"Y/n!" Mina ran to you with open arms, "I missed you so much," you giggled at your friend.

"I've only been gone for a week."

"A week too long," she pouted.

She takes your hand in hers, pulling you to whatever direction. You arrived at the airport, making it look like you got here by plane. Passing security check out and exiting the building.

"You still remember mingi right?" She asks.

"Of course, I left for a week, it doesn't mean I forgot anything that's here," she grinned.

"Why, what happened?" You asked, hiding the hint of fear in your voice.

"Oh nothing," she sing-song, trying to stop her lips from smiling too much.

You both stopped at the front of the main entrance, waiting for you-don't-know-who. Until a car stops in front of you. Mingi came to pick you two up, giving you a ride to your apartment.

"So, what's it like in your hometown," she asks, taking a bite of her food.

"Uh, It's….you know —uh…. there's trees and buildings."

Mina nodded slowly as she continued eating her food.

After you two finished eating, Mina left to finish her college work— probably with mingi.

You didn't want to think the worst but considering mina's behavior around mingi, you couldn't stop the thoughts running around your mind.

You gripped the pendant that was tied around your neck. It's pearly white color glowing due to the light reflecting on it. Its sharp edges indicate that it was shattered into parts.

The other half is with mingi.

Atleast, when he was still with you. It symbolizes your promise to always be together and be there for each other.

But fate just wasn't on your side. And it still isn't.

As you walked out of your apartment to get some fresh air, you spotted the two by the parking lot. Their faces are inches away from each other.

You didn't know why but you felt your heart sink. Tears welling in your eyes. You reminded yourself that this mingi isn't the same mingi that promised to be with you. He wasn't the same mingi that helped you run away from home whenever your parents were arguing again.

That gave you a reality check, you can't be with him anymore. You have to let him go.

Your gaze still stuck on the two, not noticing the sudden appearance of another spirit.

This time, it made you feel chills.

"Keeho," you said in a whisper. You didn't bother to look in his direction.

"Oh, I'm glad you recognize me," he said, a mischievous smile growing on his lips.

"Ryujin would have loved to see this, after all, this was her plan." You curled your fist into a ball, tight enough until your nails dug into your skin.

"Why?" You managed to let out. You didn't want this to affect you but it does. After everything you did, it all didn't matter in the end.

"I don't know, ask ryujin. I'm just here to relay a message."

Keeho pushed himself off the wall that he was leaning on and came over to you.

"Don't try to bring back something that was meant to be taken away, it'll come back to bite you in the ass," he whispered against your ear, sending chills down your spine.

Then he left, disappearing into the mist again.

Even though you just came back, you were already itching to leave. Packing your bag and locking the apartment. Giving the keys to the landlord.

Mina notices you in a hurry to leave, running after you to catch you.

"Y/n! Where are you going?" She grabs your wrist making you stop. You didn't turn around, you stayed rooted to the ground. Swallowing the thick lump in your throat before speaking.

"I'm sorry Mina," you pulled your wrist away from her and left. You felt guilty, she was your only friend and she felt betrayed. You left without an explanation.

"Y/n? You're here, did something happen?" Wooyoung read your expression.

You shook your head, clearing your thoughts as you replaced the sad look with a small smile.

"I'm great, I just didn't like the whole vibe there," you lied.

You removed the ruby crystal around your neck giving it to wooyoung, muttering a thanks. Alongside you removed the pendant that was tucked under your shirt. Wooyoung was shocked as you never took it off and you swore you never would.

You tucked the necklace into your pocket, taking a mental note to put it away when you get home.

Although you didn't accomplish your original mission, you did realize that it's always good to let go of something. Never let anything or anyone tie you down. You are still heartbroken, but you are sure you could get over it soon.

Of course, the siblings that stared at you through the window, mischievous smiles on their faces, will not let you live just yet.

#8makes1teamnet #ficscafe #destinyversenet #fkp-net #knet-bakery #: ̗̀🌺; collab fic entry #❪ 🐿️ ❫ ─ oneshots #ateez #ateez mingi #song mingi #ateez angst #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #mingi scenarios #mingi imagines

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jaskierswolf · 3 years

Note

Hello dearest Overlord!! May we please have a continuation of that brilliant Chicago fic you gifted us? It was SO GOOD I can't stop thinking about it lol

Maya! I meant to have this done for your birthday but life... sorry! Either way! Happy belated birthday! I shall upload to AO3 tomorrow!

Rated: E

Ship: Geraskier

Summary: After a night of sweat and sex and sin, Geralt knows it's time to apologise for the harsh words. If only he could find the words to say (Yes i'm abusing TAD lyrics... oops)

CW: weapons kink, shaving kink, minor injury, talks of rimming, and general hoeyness.

______

Geralt stared up at the ceiling, counting the cracks in the wall. The room stank of sweat and sex, and a warm spicy scent that wafted from the bard that was curled up on his chest. The night before had been possibly some of the best sex in his long life, but it had been tainted with the worry that it was the only chance he would get. Jaskier was still angry, and rightfully so, but it meant that Geralt wasn’t sure if this was the last time he would ever see his most loyal friend and companion. His fingers were softly trailing down Jaskier’s spine, painting flowers into the bard’s bare skin. Geralt couldn’t bear to watch Jaskier sleep. He was too beautiful, even covered in sweat, drooling over Geralt’s chest. Geralt just knew that if he looked then he would never be able to let Jaskier go.

And he couldn’t keep the bard if he didn’t want to stay.

“I can hear you thinking,” Jaskier mumbled, shifting on Geralt’s chest to press a kiss to the exposed skin. “It’s very distracting.”

Geralt huffed a laugh despite his growing anxiety. “Distracting you from sleep?”

“Mhmm.”

They laid like that for a few more moments, neither quite ready to face the day yet. Jaskier seemed to be trying to fall back asleep but after a couple of minutes he groaned and rolled onto his back. He pouted as he looked up at the ceiling, his hair a ruffled mess from where Geralt’s hands had run through it the night before, and there were dark bruises littered all over his neck, creeping down his chest where thick hair covered the pale skin. A stark reminder of Jaskier’s masculinity despite the way he preferred to present to the world.

Geralt swallowed as his cock began to make itself known. It could easily be excused as morning wood if Jaskier had decided that Geralt’s crimes were too dire to forgive, but he couldn’t help but hope.

“It appears that despite my best attempts, I am awake,” Jaskier grumbled, pushing his hands through his hair.

“Hmm,” Geralt agreed, waiting for Jaskier to pass judgement before he really spoke.

“So… witcher,” Jaskier breathed, his voice guarded and cool, making Geralt stiffen as he prepared for the worst. “I think we can both agree, that was a rather fantastic evening of carnal delights.”

“Hmm.”

“But not even sex with dear Melitele herself would make up for, well, you know,” Jaskier rolled onto his side and peered down at Geralt with icy fire in those pretty blue eyes, “the whole ‘if life could give me one blessing’ thing.” Jaskier’s voice deepened in his impersonation of Geralt and his words were accentuated with a flourish.

“Jaskier-”

“I meant it, Geralt. I want an apology, a real one, or forget it. I can find inspiration elsewhere, and well.. I- you probably weren’t my friend at all if you can’t see that what you did was wrong. I may be a bit of a prick sometimes, but I deserve better, Geralt.”

“I know,” Geralt whispered, wondering when the lost puppy that had followed him for so many years had grown up.

How had he never noticed?

“I’m sorry, Jaskier,” he breathed, struggling to find the words to explain just how sorry he was, but hoping that the bard would understand. “I- I was… I,” Geralt growled and covered his face with both hands, his beard scratching at his calloused skin.

The world felt like it was against him as he tried to gather his thoughts, but before he could, Jaskier’s hands were covering his, gently pulling them off his face. “Breathe, darling.”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I don’t have the words to put this right.”

“Then show me, dear heart.”

Geralt’s brow furrowed as he gazed up at the bard, shining cornflower blue eyes shimmering in the morning light, his fringe falling down to cover them. He looked beautiful. Geralt reached up to brushed the hair from Jaskier’s eyes but it didn’t work and they both chuckled as Jaskier huffed a breath to try and blow it out of the way. “How?”

“You can start by getting rid of that beard. You look very handsome but my arse itches like a bitch this morning,” Jaskier grumbled.

“You weren’t complaining last night,” Geralt teased.

“Well, I was hardly going to whine about it when you had your tongue up my arse!”

Just like that the ice seemed to have broken and Geralt smirked as he pulled Jaskier into a kiss; the taste was stale and unpleasant on Geralt’s tongue but he didn’t care, he was kissing Jaskier., The bard moaned softly into the kiss, shifting on the bed so that he was straddling Geralt’s hips. Jaskier’s fingers were splayed on Geralt's chest as he rolled his hips against Geralt’s erection, making them both gasp into the kiss. The heat from the night before was back, not blistering and blinding but a slow build of embers as they were once again lost in the taste of each other.

And Geralt felt… happy?

He couldn’t remember the last time he allowed himself to be happy. Perhaps at Kaer Morhen before he set out onto the path for the first time. Before he learned that witchers were no better than the monsters they hunted in the eyes of humanity. There had been some brief moments of happiness when he’d been beside Jaskier on the path, the quiet moments before they went to sleep but Geralt had always been plagued with guilt, worried that he would destroy the fragile being that trusted him.

Of course, his fears had become reality, but in spite of everything Jaskier was still here with him, his lips pressed against Geralt’s neck, hands carding through his hair. So, because of the unfamiliar lightness in his heart, Geralt decided to tease his friend, his love, his bard. He grinned as he captured Jaskier’s lips once more in a bruising kiss, fingers digging into the bard’s hips to hold him close, and then he rubbed his cheek against Jaskier’s.

“Oi!” Jaskier grumbled, sitting back on his heels and glaring down at Geralt.

“What?”

“That beard has got to go,” Jaskier muttered, rubbing at his cheek. “If you really want to do the whole ruggedly handsome thing, which by the way, I don’t hate, then I am showing you how to look after a beard. It’ll be as soft as a baby’s bottom.”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’ll shave.” Jaskier just grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “What?”

“Or…”

“Jaskier…”

The bard winked, his tongue flicking out to lick his lips in a way that really should be illegal. “If you trust me?”

“I do.”

“Then you’ll let me shave it off. I don’t have a razor but my daggers are plenty sharp enough?”

Geralt blinked, staring up at Jaskier as every single thought he’d ever had left his head. He was suddenly thrown back to the bard’s performance the night before. The way he’d moved, the touches to his skin, the frankly sinful way his body had looked in the corset and tights, an outfit better suited to a whore than a Viscount.

And his voice.

Dark, dangerous, calculating.

The same voice that usually held the warmth of the sun, turned to bitter poison as cold steel flashed in the candle light.

Geralt groaned, pressing his head into Jaskier’s shoulder, as the memory of the bard flipping the daggers in his hands with deadly precision, the edge of the blade glinting as he brushed it against his own neck. It was almost too much to handle, especially now that he’d had a taste of Jaskier, knew the filth the bard’s lips sang in the throes of passion.

“Oh, ho, ho!” Jaskier giggled, his fingers stroking through Geralt’s hair, sending a shiver down his spine. “You like that, don’t you witcher?”

“Shut up, Jaskier.”

“Oh no. No, no, no, I am loving this. I mean, I knew you enjoyed the show but I thought it was just the whole-” Jaskier cut himself off with a wave of his hands. “But it was more than that, wasn’t it, Geralt?”

Geralt was in no place to argue. His cock was impossibly hard and aching, trapped underneath his bard as he continued to roll his hips at a torturously slow pace. Jaskier’s cock was also hard as it moved against Geralt’s stomach, leaving a mess of precum on his skin. The sight made Geralt’s mouth water, and he was tempted to forget the whole beard thing, if it just meant that he could get his lips around Jaskier’s cock. Make his bard sing just like he had the night before, but before Geralt could think about manhandling Jaskier into the right position, the bard had leapt to his feet, leaving Geralt weak and wanting alone on the bed.

“Jask,” he breathed, watching the curve of Jaskier’s bare arse as he danced across the room.

“Be with you in a moment, darling,” the bard sang, sweeter than a nightingale.

And Geralt could do nothing but watch helplessly as Jaskier unsheathed the daggers from their holsters. The steel looked sharp and deadly. They were clearly very real weapons, not props, and Geralt felt his head begin to spin with lust. He had to remind himself to breathe, lest he pass out. Jaskier was too busy inspecting the blades to notice Geralt’s predicament, and he ran a long lutist's finger along the sharp edge of the dagger, hissing slightly as it cut into the skin.

“Sharp enough?” he turned to face Geralt, winking as he licked his lips.

Geralt nodded, his tongue feeling heavy in his mouth. It was a miracle that Jaskier managed to still speak so eloquently even in the height of arousal, when Geralt could barely remember his own name.

“Brilliant!” Jaskier beamed, hopping back across the room without a care for the weapon in his hand.

He was a disaster.

Geralt honestly wasn’t sure how Jaskier hadn’t cut his own dick off. He clearly had no sense of self preservation, and yet Geralt was going to let him press that dagger to his throat.

Perhaps he was the idiot after all.

“Come now, Geralt, off the bed, I don’t want to get hair on the sheets,” Jaskier waved him over, flipping the dagger absentmindedly in one hand.

Geralt just scoffed. “I think there’s worse things on those sheets, Jaskier.”

“Sit!” Jaskier insisted indignantly pointing at the stool by the basin in the corner of the room.

There was no arguing with that, although Geralt did wonder if Jaskier would turn the blade against him, even in jest, and that thought had his cock throbbing. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so desperate, probably watching Jaskier perform, the searing jealousy as the fake Geralt and Yennefer lay their hands on Jaskier’s body.

Jaskier took no notice of his inner turmoil, of the raging fire burning inside him. Instead, he hummed an unfamiliar tune under his breath as he readied the dagger for its job. After the passion of the night before, the quiet intimacy was almost too much. Geralt just hummed as he settled into an almost meditative state, letting Jaskier move his head around as he needed to without resistance. The bard pressed his leg between Geralt's, staying still but keeping a gentle pressure on Geralt's cock whilst the blade moved methodically across Geralt's skin.

Every stroke of Jaskier's blade against Geralt's skin sent a wave of arousal through his body. He'd never seen Jaskier as anything more than an annoyance on the battlefield, and the calm stillness of the moment made him see his bard in a new light. He wondered whether Jaskier had been holding back on him this whole time or whether this skill with a blade was something he’d learned in their time apart. Without a witcher to protect him, Jasker had no doubt encountered no end of trouble. He’d ended up in the brothel after all… although it was like no brothel that Geralt had ever been to.

“You still with me, sweetheart?” Jaskier breathed almost silently, his lilting voice cutting through the cloud of meditation. Even in his meditation, his senses were locked onto Jaskier, ready to jump into action at a moment’s notice. It was an instinct he’d never realised he’d trained into being, it happened so slowly. One day he was wishing that Jaskier would finally get bored and leave, and the next, Geralt knew he would defend the idiot with his life.

But now it seemed Jaskier could hold his own, and that was just fucking hot.

Geralt didn’t know what was happening to himself. Everything he thought he knew was turning on his head, and he was somewhat irrevocably in love with the bard, he’d barely admitted was his friend.

By the time Jaskier was done, the blade smoothly gliding across Geralt’s skin, a finer shave than any barber he’d been to in all his years.

“Geralt, dear heart?”

“Hmm…”

“There you are,” Jaskier cooed, cupping Geralt’s cheek in his hands until Geralt let his eyes flutter open.

Jaskier was gazing back at him, his eyes blown wide and his cheeks flushed. The scent of arousal in the air made Geralt’s head hazy with lust. Before he could even think about what he was doing, Geralt knocked the dagger from Jaskier’s hand, the steel clattering as it flew across the room and bounced on the floor. The bard opened his mouth to protest but Geralt had been aching and hard for too long, and he was desperate to get his mouth back on Jaskier’s skin.

With a yelp, Jaskier was pushed back onto the bed, whining as Geralt teased the tight rim of muscle. Despite their long night of sex, Geralt would need to stretch him again, and he couldn’t wait. He’d found great pleasure in taking apart his cocky arrogant bard with both his tongue and fingers the night before, and he knew he would quite happily spend a whole lifetime doing it again and again. There was no better music than the noises Jaskier made when Geralt had his tongue lapping at the bard’s hole.

Without warning, Jaskier lunged to the edge of the bed, distracting Geralt with the curve of his arse so he didn’t notice what Jaskier was grabbing at until it was too late. The dagger was at his throat forcing him back onto the mattress, the tip of the blade hooking underneath that wolf medallion.

“Gotcha,” Jaskier winked, knocking all the air from Geralt’s lungs in less than a heartbeat.

“Jask,” he breathed, his words slurred as he struggled to see through the fog of lust.

“If I forgive you, witcher, do you promise not to throw me away like that again?” the bard’s eyes burned, but Jaskier saw through the mask to the scared little boy, one so frightened of being abandoned.

“Never again,” he vowed. “I swear.”

Jaskier let out a soft sigh and the tension visibly melted away from his body. “Good enough for me.”

And then he pressed their bodies together once more in a burning kiss that would stay with Geralt for the rest of his life.

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt/jaskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier pankratz #wolfie's witcher writing

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tender-rosiey · 3 years

Note

Hello!!💗👋

If I am not being a bother, may i request a little idea? 💡🤩

It's about Dazai Osamu falling for a doctor( of course she is nowhere near as good as Yosano ). She is a warm,bubbly and funny girl who knows nothing about the Port Mafia, Armed Detective Agency or the abilities. She loves life and people being just complete opposite of Dazai. Maybe he found her when she was doing an investigation and she was the victim's friend or something. He approached her to get some informations about her friend. Of course , she did feel attracted to this mysterious and charismatic man without knowing his identity. So, they kept in contact. But Dazai knows being near him is dangerous and he wants her to be safe and feels guilty about lying to her about himself ( but telling her about him will only increase the dangers and he is also afraid she will hate him if she knew who he really is and what he has done) . However, he can't help but feel attached to her smile and the warmth she gives him that makes the void in his heart being fulfilled.

And this request being about the conflict he has with himself whether to let you go or not.

I know this request has a lot of unnecessary informations and annoyingly detailed and I am sorry.😐😥

Thank you very much for reading this nonsense.💞🥺

Feel free to ignore this.

❥— Wrap My Heart

❥— ᴅᴀᴢᴀɪ ᴏsᴀᴍᴜ x ғ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

❥— ғʟᴜғғ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀɴɢsᴛ

❥— ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1.1ᴋ

ᴀ/ɴ: hey dear! you are not a bother at all! also this fic is a little short? in my eyes at least anyhow my deepest apologies that this came late, i do hope you enjoy it nonetheless and i hope you have a great day! ☺️💕

Dazai had an undeniable charm and it was obvious, and it worked on even you, a sweet and lovely girl, who is a doctor and just genuinely loves helping others.

You met the brunette one day as you were one of the witnesses of a recent incident and Dazai was assigned to be in charge of getting any information about it from you, of course you looked rather ravishing by default, however, he wasn’t going to let his instinct as a man lead him down a pit fall; he never let it take the best of him, so why is he worrying about it now? But you are being so sweet and friendly, how could he not feel the least bit of welcomed in your presence? Even if turns out as a fake, he thinks he will enjoy it while it lasts.

“So Miss Y/N, may you tell me about what you know about the incident?” He asked, voice as smooth as silk as if he was flirting; you nodded smiling sweetly before going on and giving every piece of information you had an idea of.

As you were done, you saw Dazai being a little spacey so you gently called out his name “Dazai, you alright?” Your voice snapped him out of his daze that he was not expecting, for as much as he liked to slack he is usually very focused on his cases in the end, perhaps it’s your honey-dripping voice that is a beautiful melody to hear or maybe it’s your eyes that he got lost in ever so easily, wasn’t he known for being composed most of the the time.

“Yeah sorry, is it alright if you repeat the last part? Your beauty enchanted me that is all.” And he wasn’t lying, but you laughed and brushed it off because you saw him flirt with multiple women before speaking to you and did as he asked retelling your story.

As you both felt a mutual interesting towards each other, you ended up exchanging numbers and talking almost every night; oh how it was heaven to listen to your voice and the joy behind it every time you talked to him before he dove into a deep slumber, if he died right now he would be happiest man, he thinks while his eyes slowly close as you bid him a goodnight.

Dazai was greedy, he wanted to spend more time with you, so what’s better than getting himself injured on purpose and going to you instead of Yosano? It gave him benefits in two ways, one avoiding Yosano’s traumatizing treatment and the second being in your presence for furthermore time.

And that’s how you found him every day at your clinic with a new injury different than the others; and while you are mending his wounds, he starts conversations with you and you both ended up having the time of your life every visit.

But as greedy as he can be, dazai loved and loves or at least thinks he does, he knew it would all go down hill if you kept in touch for a longer time. He was afraid you would follow the path his old friend Oda took. And even more you were getting dangerously close to the fragile heart he hid behind masks and walls, he didn’t want to take the risk of you breaking it; yet even so he knew, even while scared of your reach, that your touch is gentle and the way you cradle his heart is even even more tender.

You have been nothing but a sweetheart to him, showing him the wonders of the world and how beautiful it is to live in it; he always thought about how overwhelming sweet in a good way was seeing the world with you, so he concludes that if you can make an empty man like him feel like trying to give life another shot, then you are probably gonna save lots of lives rather than his that he thought was a lost cause.

But as he thought about it, you didn’t see it all, you didn’t see the boy, the 15 year old boy, who slaughtered hundreds of people, you didn’t see the man that manipulated everything in the worst way for his advantage, you didn’t see the man behind the broken mirror, you didn’t see the man that his hands were tainted by blood everywhere he goes, if you did would you leave him?

If he displayed it all on the table, would you still accept him? Would you still be the sweet and bubbly girl he first met? What if you turn your back on him and crush his heart with those delicate fingers instead? What would he do then?

He wants you to be with him, but wants you to leave; he wants you to be safe and happy, but still wants you by his side. He is conflicted, should he be selfish or let you go to bloom somewhere else?

Dazai was more than aware that being his or being related to him in any way is very threatening alone, so he tried pushing you away; but his trials weren’t always successful, especially with you. You were an enchanting blossom that shines like the light brightly in his dark garden, one that he touched as gently as the clouds so he doesn’t hurt you like the rest, you didn’t deserve being hurt.

You were too good for him and the world, you don’t deserve to be corrupted by his poisonous touch, but when you are the one reaching for his black petals with such tenderness, how is he supposed to hold himself back and push you away? He expected for that beast inside of him to assist him in all of this, to let the cold exterior come out and drive you away from his embrace.

He longed for nothing but someone like you, a reason, a motive to live through this hell we call life, and he thinks once again about it all. If anyone was to touch a single strand of you, then he will teach them that you are not something to be stained by their filthy hands, he promises.

So maybe if you keep treating him like he is made of glass and are cautious with his feelings and reactions, then maybe letting you wrap his heart with your arms isn’t so bad, maybe it isn’t so bad that he is buried into your embrace right now, and maybe dazai osamu really has the chance to love and be greedy for one more time in this life.

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

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thewidowsghost · 3 years

Text

The Daughter of the Sea - Chapter 4

(Y/n)'s POV

We tear through the night along dark country roads. Wind slams against the Camaro. Rain lashes the windshield. I don't know how Mom can see anything, but she keeps her foot on the gas pedal.

Every time there is a flash at lightning, I look back at Grover sitting beside Percy in the back seat and for a few moments, I wonder if I'd gone insane, or if he is wearing some kind of shag-carpet pants. But no, the smell is one I remember from kindergarten field trips to the petting zoo - lanolin, like from wool. The smell of a wet barnyard animal.

The only thing it seems Percy could say is, "So, you and my mom . . . know each other?"

Grover's eyes flit to the rearview mirror, though there are no cars behind us. "Not exactly," he says. "I mean, we've never met in person. But she knew I was watching you."

"Watching me?" Percy asks.

"Keeping tabs on you. Making sure you were okay. But I wasn't faking being your friend," he adds hastily. "I am your friend."

"Um . . . what are you, exactly?"

"That doesn't matter right now," Grover answers.

"It doesn't matter? From the waist down, my best friend is a donkey -"

Grover lets out a sharp, throaty, "Blaa-ha-ha! Goat!" he cries.

"What?" Percy asks.

"I'm a goat from the waist down."

"You just said it didn't matter."

"Blaa-ha-ha! Some satyrs would trample you underhoof for such an insult!"

"Whoa. Wait. Satyrs. You mean like...Mr. Brunner's myths?"

"Were those old ladies at the fruit stand a myth, Percy? Was Mrs. Dodds a myth?"

"So you admit there was a Mrs. Dodds!" Percy says accusingly.

"Of course."

"Then why -"

"The less the two of you knew, and weren't together as much, the fewer monsters you'd attract," Grover says like that should be perfectly obvious. "We put Mist over the humans' eyes. We hoped you'd think the Kindly One was a hallucination, Percy. But it was no good. You started to realize who you are."

"Who we - wait a moment, what do you mean?" I ask, highly confused.

The weird bellowing noise rises again somewhere behind us, closer than before. Whatever is changing us still on our trail.

"(Y/n), Percy," Mom says, "there's too much to explain and not enough time. We have to get you to safety."

"Safety from what? who's after us?" Percy asks.

"Oh, nobody much," Grover asks, obviously still miffed about Percy's donkey comment. "Just the Lord of the Dead and a few of his blood-thirstiest minions."

I let out a soft noise of disbelief and Mom glances over at me before yelling, "Grover!"

"Sorry, Mrs. Jackson. Could you drive faster, please?"

I try to wrap my mind around what is happening, but I can't do it. I know this isn't a dream. Even I, with a vivid imagination, could never dream up something this weird.

Mom makes a hard left. We swerve onto a narrower road, racing past darkened farmhouses and wooded hills and 'PICK YOU OWN STRAWBERRIES' signs on white picket fences.

"Where are we going?" Percy asks.

"The summer camp I told you about," Mom's voice is tight; she is trying for our sakes not to be scared. "The place you want to send you."

"The place you didn't us to go," Percy asks and I swallow thickly.

"Please, dear," my mother begs and just the desperation in her voice makes tears well up in my eyes. "This is hard enough. Try to understand. You're both in danger."

"Because some old ladies cut yarn," Percy says.

"Those weren't old ladies," Grover says. "Those were the Fates. Do you know what it means—the fact they appeared in front of you? They only do that when you're about to...when someone's about to die."

"Whoa. You said 'you.'"

"No, I didn't. I said 'someone.'"

"You meant 'you.' As in me."

"I meant you, like 'someone.' Not you, you."

"Boys!" my Mom yells.

She pulls the wheel hard to the right, and I get a glimpse of a figure she'd swerved to avoid - a dark fluttering shape now lost behind us in the storm.

Percy's POV

"What was that?" (Y/n) asks, fear creeping into her voice.

"We're almost there," my mother says, ignoring my sister's question. "Another mile. Please. Please. Please."

I didn't know where there is happened, but I find myself leaning forward in the car, anticipating, wanting us to arrive.

Outside, nothing but rain and darkness—the kind of empty countryside you get way out on the tip of Long Island. I think about Mrs. Dodds and the moment when she'd changed into the thing with pointed teeth and leathery wings. My limbs go numb from delayed shock. She really hadn't been human. She'd meant to kill me.

Then I think about Mr. Brunner...and the sword he had thrown me. Before I can ask Grover about that, the hair rises on the back of my neck. There is a blinding flash, a jaw-rattling boom! and our car explodes.

(Y/n)'s POV (Again)

I feel weightless like I'm being crushed, fried, and hosed down all at the same time, and my head slams against the dashboard.

Stars erupt before my eyes and I hear Mom yell, as if in a long tunnel, "Percy! (Y/n)!"

"I'm okay . . ." I hear Percy say.

I try to shake off my daze, as blood drips down into my eyes. The car had swerved into a ditch. Our driver's-side doors are wedged in the mud. The roof had cracked open like an eggshell and rain is pouring in.

Lighting. That is the only explanation. We'd been blasted off the road.

My head, feeling as though it was made of lead, I lift my head and it falls against the head-rest.

"Percy, (Y/n)," Mom says, "we have to . . ." Her voice falters.

My head lolls back, and in a flash of lightning, through the mud-spattered rear windshield, I see a figure lumbering toward us on the shoulder of the road. The sight of it makes my skin crawl. It is a dark silhouette of a huge guy, like a football player. He seems to be holding a blanket over his head; his top half is bulky and fuzzy, and his upraised hands make it looks as though he has horns.

I swallow thickly, "Who is -"

"Percy, (Y/n)," my mother interupts, deadly serious. "Get out of the car."

Mom throws herself against the driver's-side door. It is jammed shut in the mud; Percy tries his as well.

"Climb out the passenger's side!" Mom tells the two of us. "Percy, (Y/n) - you have to run. Do you see that big tree?"

"What?" Percy asks.

Another flash of lightning, and through the smoking hole in the roof I see the tree that she means: a huge, White House Christmas tree-sized pine at the crest of the nearest hill.

"That's the property line," my mom says. "Get over that hill and you'll see a big farmhouse down in the valley. Run and don't look back. Yell for help. Don't stop until you reach the door."

"Mom, you're coming too," I say softly.

Mom's face is pale, her eyes as sad as when she looked at the ocean.

"No!" Percy shouts. "You are coming with us. Help me carry Grover!"

"Food!" Grover groans, a little louder.

"He doesn't want me or Grover," my mother tells me. "He wants the two of you. Besides, I can't cross the property line."

"But . . ." I start to argue.

"We don't have time. Go. Please."

"We're going together," I say, slamming my shoulder against the door.

Together, the three of us escort Grover, stumbling up the hill through wet waist-high grass.

Glancing back, I get my first clear look at the monster. He is seven feet tall, easily, his arms and legs like something from the cover of Muscle Man magazine. He wears no clothes except underwear; the top half of his body is so scary. Coarse brown hair starts at about his belly button and gets thicker as it reaches his shoulder.

His neck is a mass of muscle and fur leading up to his enormous head, which had a snout as long as my arm, snotty nostrils with a gleaming brass ring, cruel black eyes, and horns - enormous black-and-white horns with points you just can't get from an electric sharpener.

I blink the rain out of my eyes, "That's -"

"Pasiphae's son," Mom interupts. "I wish I'd known how badly they wanted to kill you."

"But he's the Min -" Percy begins.

"Don't say his name," she warns. "Names have power."

The pine tree is still way too far - a hundred yards uphill at least.

I glance behind me again.

The bull-man hunches over our car, looking in the windows - or not looking, exactly. More like snuffling, nuzzling. I'm not really sure why he bothered, since we're only about fifty feet away.

"Food?" Grover moans again.

"Shhh," Percy hisses. "Mom, what's he doing? Doesn't he see us?"

"His sight and hearing are terrible," she says. "He goes by smell. But he'll figure out where we are soon enough."

As if on cue, the bull-man bellows in rage. He picks up Gabe's Camaro by the torn roof, the chassis creaking and groaning. He raises the car over his head and throws it down the road. It slams into the wet asphalt and skids in a shower of sparks for about half a mile before coming to a stop; the gas tank explodes.

Not a scratch, I remember Gabe saying. Oops.

"Percy, (Y/n)," our mom says. "When he sees us, he'll charge. Wait until the last second, then jump out of the way - directly sideways. He can't change directions very well once he's charging. Do you understand?"

"How do you know all this?" I ask, fear creeping into my voice again.

"I've been worried about an attack for a long time. I should have expected this. I was selfish, keeping the two of you near me."

"Keeping me near you?" Percy asks. "But -"

Another bellow of rage and the Minotaur starts tromping uphill.

He'd smelled us.

The pine tree is only a few more yards, but the hill is getting steeper and slicker, and Grover isn't getting any lighter.

The Minotaur closes in. Another few seconds and he'd be on top of us.

Mom must've been exhausted, but she shouldered Grover. "Go, Percy, (Y/n)! Separate! Remember what I said."

I didn't want to split up, but I have the feeling she is right - it's our only chance. I sprint to the left, turn, and sees the creature bearing down on me; his black eyes glowing with hate. He reeks like rotten meat.

He lowers his head and charges, those razor-sharp horns aimed straight at my chest.

The fear in my stomach makes me want to bolt, but that wouldn't work. I could never outrun this thing. So I hold my ground, and at the last moment, I leap to the side.

The bull-man storms past like a freight train then bellows with frustration and turns, but not towards me this time, towards Percy, whose standing in between my mom and Grover, and me.

We'd reached the crest of the hill. Down the other side, I can see a valley, just as Mom had said, and the lights of a farmhouse glowing yellow through the rain. But It is half a mile away; we'd never make it.

The bull-man grunts, pawing the ground. He keeps eyeing Percy, whose eyes are wide. I sprint towards my brother as the Minotaur charges at him. I dive forward, knocking Percy over as the horns were mere inches from his chest.

The bull-man lets out a roar of anger then eyes Mom, who was just setting Grover down in the grass.

He keeps eyeing Mom, who is now retreating downhill, back towards the road, trying to lead the monster away from Grover.

"Run!" she tells me. "I can't go any farther. Run!"

But I stand there, frozen in fear, as the monster charges at her. She tries to sidestep, as she'd told me to do so, but the monster had learned his lesson. His hand shoots out and grabs her by the neck as she tries to get away. He lifts her as she struggles, kicking and pummeling the air.

"Mom!" I cry, stepping towards the monster.

She catches my eyes, which are welling with tears, and managed to choke out one last word: "Go!"

Then, with an angry roar, the monster closes his fists around my mother's neck, and she dissolves before mine and Percy's eyes, melting into light, a shimmering golden form as if she's a holographic projection. A blinding flash and she is simply . . . gone.

"No!" Percy wails, collapsing to his knees.

Anger replaces my fear; newfound strength burns in my limbs.

The bull-man hunches over Grover, whose lying helpless in the grass. The monster hunches over, snuffling my brother's best friend, as though he were about to lift Grover and make him dissolve too.

I strip off my red rain jacket.

"Hey!" I scream, waving the jacket, running to the one side of the monster, Percy doing the same with his own red jacket. "Hey, stupid! Ground beef!"

"Raaaarrrr!" the monster turns towards me, shaking his meaty fists.

I had an idea - a stupid idea, but better than no idea at all. I put my back to the big pine tree and wave my red jacket in front of the Minotaur, thinking I'd jump out of the way at the last moment.

But it doesn't happen like that.

The bull-man charges too fast, his arms out to grab me whichever way I try to dodge.

Time seems to slow down as my legs tense. I can't jump sideways, so I leap straight up, kicking off from the creature's head, using it as a springboard, turning in midair, and landing on his neck.

How did I do that? I wonder. I didn't have time to figure it out. A millisecond later, the monster's head slams into the tree, and the impact nearly knocks my teeth out.

The bull-man staggers around, trying to shake me. I lock my arms around his horns to keep from being thrown. Thunder and lightning are still strong; the rain is still in my eyes. The smell of rotten meat bringing my nostrils.

The monster shakes himself around and bucks like a rodeo bull. He should have just backed into the tree and smashed me flat, but I am starting to realize that this thing has only one gear: forward.

Meanwhile, Grover starts groaning in the grass. I want to yell at him to shut up, but by the way, I am getting tossed around, if I opened my mouth, I'd bite my tongue off.

As if reading my mind, Percy does yell at Grover, but Grover just groans, "Food!" again.

The bull-man wheels toward him, paws the ground again, and gets ready to charge. I think about how he had squeezed the life out of my mother, made her disappear in a flash of light, and rage fills me like high-octane fuel. I get both hands around one horn and I pull backward with all my might. The monster tenses; gives a surprised grunt, then—snap!

Percy's POV

The bull-man screams and flings my sister through the air. She lands flat on her back in the grass. Her head smacks on a rock. I catch sight of a horn in (Y/n)'s hand and I dart over, grabbing it out of her hands and roll to one side as the monster charges. As the monster barrels past, I drive the broken horn straight into his side, right up under his furry rib cage.

The bull-man roars in agony; he flails, clawing at his chest, then begins to disintegrate - not like my mother, in a flash of golden light, but like crumbling sand, blown away in chunks by the wind, the same way Mrs. Dodds had burst apart.

The monster is gone.

The rain had stopped. The storm still rumbles, but only in the distance. I smell like livestock, and my knees are shaking.

I stick my hand out and pull my sister up from the ground.

My head feels like it is splitting open, and it doesn't help as I look at the back of my sister's head, which was bleeding heavily. I feel weak and scared and trembling with grief. I'd just seen my mother vanish. I want to lie down and cry, but there is Grover, who my sister had stumbled her way towards and was trying to lift the limp figure on her own. Both my sister and my best friend need my help, so I manage to haul him up and my sister and I stagger down into the valley.

(Y/n)'s POV

The pain in my head was almost blinding - from it slamming against the dashboard and the rock - and I hear Percy crying out from our mother, but we both hold onto Grover - neither of us letting go.

The last thing I remember is collapsing on a wooden porch, looking up at a ceiling fan circling above me, moths flying around a yellow light, and the stern faces of a bearded man and a pretty girl, her blond hair curled like a princess's. They both look down at me and Percy, and the girl says, "They're the ones. They must be."

"Silence, Annabeth," the man says. "They're still conscious. Bring them inside."

Word Count: 2896 words

#percy jackson x sister reader #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians reader insert #reader insert #female reader #fem reader

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tessiete · 3 years

Note

"I wish you would write a —" continuation or AU of that scene from away the vapour flew (because I've seen you mention that even your AU's have AU's lol and I'm selfishly hoping you'd consider revisiting that fic and coz I can't let this opportunity pass when this fic literally lives in my mind rent free lol)

Alright! At long last I have figured out what happens next. This is for you, dear thing ❤️❤️❤️ ( @lightasthesun on - or very near thereabouts - your birthday)

LED BY THE WANDERING LIGHT

It starts with a very little thing: a seed.

It is slipped from the glove of a Republic aid trooper who smiles as he passes it over.

“From the General of the 212th,” he says. “Don’t know what it is, but I damn near lost the thing on the way over.”

“For me?” he asks, and the man nods, his grin growing wider.

Then he leans in as though commiserating with a friend. “Jetiise sha’bise, lek?”

“Elek,” agrees Korkie, dubiously, turning the little living pebble between his fingers.

The trooper grins, and gives him a friendly shove before trotting off back to his ship. Korkie has come down on his aunt’s behalf to oversee the relief efforts, but he is distracted by the seed in his hand. It is flat, and furry, and pleasingly plump. If he squeezes it, he can feel the skin relent and rebound, and if he digs in his nail ever so gently, he can feel the taste of water upon his thumb, and see the pale blush of springtime in the depths of the cut. It is a seed of something, he knows, but of what?

He places it in the breast pocket of his Academy jacket, and turns his attention back to the work. It is an impressive, and important sight, but his thoughts linger on the seed, and he feels it sit bright and eager against his heart.

Later, when the supplies have been unloaded, and the aid troopers seen off, when the ceremony of thanks and assurances of neutrality have all been displayed, when he is back in his room at Sundari only hours away from the magtrain ride back to school, he plants the seed in a little pot of black earth, and dampens the soil. It will not grow tonight, but he cannot help but stare at it anyway, waiting in the dark, beneath the stars, so patient.

A week passes, and he is back at the Academy when the mail officer - an upperclassman he’s never met - stops at his place during first meal.

“Su-su, Kryze!” he calls. “A package for you from the Core.”

A small bundle wrapped in layer upon layer of bonding tape, and stamped with the ink of a hundred spaceports too numerous and cramped to decipher lands upon his lap. He uses the thin knife from his plate to slice through the plastifibe envelope.

When his fingers graze the object within he gasps, and pulls back the wrap to reveal a real, proper book. It’s not even printed on flimsi, he notes, cracking the aged spine and letting the pages fall open, but on actual paper. They don’t make these in the Core, and hardly ever in the Mid Rim, it’s just not economical, and most planets don’t have the resources to spare. But this one is old, it’s pages creased, and worn smooth at the corners with the turning of many fingers. It is about horticulture, though the illustrations of green and growing things have faded to browns and burnished golds. It is beautiful.

A piece of dried grass has been tucked between two pages, and when Korkie folds them back to look he sees an image of the seed he’d sown in the pot by his bed. Beside it, a riotous bouquet of blossoms burst in an array of different colours. It is a daesyn flower.

He tucks the book in his kebisebag, and carries it around for the rest of the day. At nightfall, he takes it out with careful reverence, turning the pages back to the daesyn slowly lest they tear or turn to dust. Then, by the light of a little glowrod, he props the book against his window and reads along as he tends to the small green sprout only just peeking through the soil.

He buys a sun lamp, and a watermeter, and adjusts the temperature of his quarters much to Amis’ chagrin, determined to provide the most optimal growing conditions he can for the little plant.

After a month, the seedling has become a sturdy sprout, with prickly leaves of a green so deep it might be blue. He is attempting to commit those variegated lines to flimsi when Amis returns to their quarters, a small pouch swinging from his hand.

“I’m supposed to give this to you,” he says, tossing the pouch. Korkie reacts without thinking, snatching the bag out of the air before it can hit the ground.

“Who’s it from?”

“Front desk. Said some high up Republic alor sent it.”

“Which one?”

“Don’t know. Didn’t ask, did I? Too busy polishing the silver.”

Korkie grimaces in sympathy, having spent many an afternoon of his first year cleaning the trophy case in the main hall. He thinks that Amis’ plight could be easily avoided if only he behaved himself, but refrains from saying so to his friend.

Instead, he pulls the drawstring at the top of the purse, and turns it over his hand. A dozen discs of coloured glass tumble into his palm. They are thick, and smooth, though not polished by anything but time. Each is a different colour, though some are struck through with shimmers of gold and silver.

“What’s that?” asks Amis over his shoulder.

“Don’t know,” he echoes. The glass feels comfortable in his grip. Made to be held, and carried, and passed from hand to hand.

“Should ask Lagos,” says Amis. “That seems like her kind of thing.”

He makes no reply to Amis, but of course, he does as he suggests. Lagos is, after all, a walking encyclopaedia, and of all their friends the most likely to at least have an idea of where to start looking.

The excitement on her face when Korkie shows her his hoard tells him she has more than an idea - she knows.

“Oh, oh, oh!” she gasps. “Where’d you find Abafar trading beads?”

“They were a gift,” he replies. “What are they for?”

She picks them up one at a time and holds them to the light. By some trick of their design, they cast no shadow, but seem to capture the rays inside like banked embers, or twisting prisms. The ones marked with ribbons of ore grow warm in her hand, and she presses them to his cheek so he can feel their heat.

“They’re the traditional currency of Abafar,” she explains. “It’s a desert planet in the Outer Rim, and craftsmen in the Void used to make these beads as a means of facilitating trade over great distances. Metal was scarce, and the beads could also be used to retain heat for longer - that one in your hand could keep the warmth of the sun all night, if you wanted it to.”

He considers the disc of deep indigo, and holds it up to the sun until it turns red. The glass seems to have become molten, but its warmth is not painful in the hand. He leaves the bead out for the rest of the afternoon to test Lagos’ theory, and brings it into bed with him at night. Tucked beneath his pillow, it radiates a soothing heat, and he feels his muscles relax and his worries melt as he drifts away into an easy slumber.

The next gift he receives is shattered into bits.

“Sorry, kid,” says the attendant at the delivery depot when he arrives to claim his parcel. “Happens sometimes with these packages from the front. The war is not a safe place for fragile things. Bic cuyir meg bic cuyir.”

He takes the present anyway, carrying it delicately back to the Academy, fearful of breaking it further. When he finally tears through the tape and plastifibe, clay and ceramplast pieces give up any pretense at form and clatter over the surface of his desk.

It was beautiful once, he can tell. Perhaps a bowl or a cup turned by hand - he can see the telltale print of a foreign finger pressed into a section of naked clay - but now it is only fragments and dust.

Still, he hovers over the pile, turning the pieces this way and that, trying to see how they fit together. He doesn’t notice when sixth bell rings, or when Soniee pings his comm, or when Amis sneaks in past curfew and turns out his light. He stays up late into the night, until the form takes shape, and through the cracks and crevasses of painted clay dawn creeps in.

It is an amphoriskos. A small vessel for storing precious oils, like the kind used in the rituals of so many traditional peoples. There is none in it now, and Korkie retrieves the sachet to see if perhaps it was spilled into the weave of the plastifibe wrap. But it is dry. And the clay, when he looks at it more closely, is dry and unstained by use. The gift was always empty.

The shards sit upon his desk in their loose arrangement until, one afternoon, Amis moves to sweep them off into the dustbin.

“No, no!” protests Korkie, before Amis can complete the task. “I want to keep it.”

“What for?” his friend asks. “It’s broken.”

“I don’t know yet.”

He collects the bits of amphoriskos into his hands, and arranges them about the base of his daesyn pot. The paint glints in the light, and so too do the Abafar beads nestled amidst the debris. The plant grows green and bushy, its leaves reaching out to skim the rim of its bed as though a swimmer poised on the edge of emersion.

He receives Theelin singing strings wound tight around a holodrive meant for the Duchess, paired basalt spindles from Hapes, seashells from the deep oceans of Mon Cala, and a set of Lateron hoops carried on the wrist of the visiting senator from Naboo.

“From Master Kenobi,” she says, and she smiles at him with a warmth that feels like family. He wonders if they’ve met before, if he should know her, but she moves along with the entourage of press and government officials before he can ask.

He is home for Holyrod month, and has brought his prizes with him carried along specially in his kebisebag, his daesyn in his hands. He sets them out along the windowsill in his rooms at Sundari. The watchet blues and greens of crystalline filtered light play over his collection, illuminating one after the other in joyous turn. He does not know what they mean, or why his father has sent these particular things to him, but they are all precious, and he longs for a way to display his gratitude for the thought he has been spared.

The daesyn itself revels in its new surroundings, and leans close to the glass to get as close a view of the sun as it can, budding with imminent delight.

The Senator from Naboo is called Padme, he discovers when he is introduced to her again at mealtime. And she has not come alone. She is part of a delegation of foreign ambassadors, all from the Republic, but not all, Korkie suspects, as enthusiastic about the Chancellor as they had once been. There are murmurings and whispers amongst them, hurried out between thin lips and caught only in the corner of his eye, or the turn of his head, but whether satisfied or not, they are accompanied by the ceremonial force of the Senate, and the might of Palpatine himself - Two Jedi travel with them.

Anakin Skywalker, and Obi-Wan Kenobi.

He sees him through the crush of bodies, and later down the line at suppertime. In the midst of deep blues, and mauves, and furs, and silks, his earthen tunics stand out, but he is always distant, always just out of reach. All he needs is a moment, he thinks, to make sure he’s seen, so he can acknowledge his father - even in the polite, and suitably respectful language of perfect strangers if he must, but it never comes.

The plates are cleared, the halls are emptied, and Korkie finds himself bidding his aunt (she is always his aunt here) goodnight, and wandering back to his rooms alone.

It is dark when he arrives, though by the window the Abafar beads glow like the distant lights of the city. He slips off his stiff shoes, and his raiments of clan, but is interrupted by a knock at the door. He waits, uncertain, until the knock comes again.

Perhaps his mother come to assure herself of his health and presence, as she has done so often in the past, but he opens the door to find Obi-Wan Kenobi waiting, with his hand out. In the euphoric rush of astonishment, he hastens to place his own hand upon his father’s as is customary on Stewjon, though he holds fast in a manner peculiar between children and their parents.

“Master Kenobi,” he stammers. “I did not expect you. I thought you’d left. Forgive me.”

“There is nothing to forgive,” Obi-Wan replies. “I’d rather hoped to catch you alone, but I’m afraid our schedule was somewhat packed.”

“Of course.”

He is staring, he knows it, but he can’t seem to think of anything else to say, caught up in looking at his father and searching for all the commonalities between them. Does he tilt his head like that? Does he stroke his chin? Does he frown and smile by equal measure?

But the weight of his scrutiny is too much to bear, and Obi-Wan cracks.

“I thought to ask: did you get my gifts?”

“Yes,” says Korkie. “Thank you. They were very thoughtful.”

“Ah...And did you - did you like them?”

At this, Korkie cannot help but smile, and he shakes his father’s hand, tugging him forward with zeal.

“Yes, of course,” he says. “Would you like to see?”

If he is confused by his son’s desire to reintroduce him to items he has already laboured over and seen, then he does not show it. Nor does he resist when the hand in his pulls him further into the room, and doesn’t let go even as a curtain is flung open, and a light flicked on low.

He is pulled over to the broad casements and left to bask in starlight as Korkie steps aside to reveal a colorful mobile hanging from the frame of his window.

“The amphoriskos broke,” he explains, and sees a shadow flicker in his father's eyes. “No, no,” he insists. “It wasn’t your fault. It just happened. But I couldn’t bear to throw it away. It was so beautiful.”

He gestures at a silver thread from which hang a variety of irregularly shaped clay shards. The shiny amber and black paint catches the light thrown by the glowing Abafar beads strung further up, and on another and another thread. When he blows on them the threads hum, and sway together, the seashells and pottery and glass clattering together like wind chimes.

“The singing strings,” notes Obi-Wan, and Korkie grins.

“And the Lateron hoops,” he says, pointing to the frame from which the strings are suspended. “And the spindles, for balance. It’s meant to hang with my window open, like it is at school. And then, at night, when the dreamwinds come, the whole thing sings, and shines, and glows like the stars.”

“It’s beautiful,” says Obi-Wan with awe. He reaches out with one hesitant finger, the beads flickering beneath his touch, and the strings murmuring the low notes of an opening phrase.

“You gave it to me,” says Korkie with a shrug, and Obi-Wan turns his awe upon his boy.

“No,” he says. “I gave you fragments, but you have made them into art. You gave them meaning. You gave them a soul.”

Korkie shifts on his feet, fretting at the cuff of his sleeve, and diving in.

“Would it be okay, do you think -” he starts, then stops. Then he starts again. “Do you think it’d be alright if I wrote you? Every once in a while.”

“Wrote me?”

“Or com’d,” he says, quickly. “Only I know you’re busy, and I can’t expect to lay claim to any of your time, not really, but I -”

“Com me,” says Obi-Wan. “Write me. Send me anything you like, but only say you will and I will have all the time for you I can spare.”

“I promise that I only want a very little.”

“If it’s mine to give it’s yours to have, Kiorkicek,” his father swears. His grip upon his hand is firm, willing him to believe him, and Korkie nods his head because he does.

They stand there, hand in hand, reading themselves in each other, and learning the other in turn, and in the glow of the stars, and the city, and the Abafar beads, the daesyn flower bursts from its roots into a riot of colour and life.

#Obi-Wan Kenobi #Korkie Kryze #SW #Star Wars #my fic #GFFA #prompt fill #Korkie is a Kenobi

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estrxlar · 3 years

Text

The Ghost Of You

01 - You’re Familiar

This chapters songs:

Daughter Of A Cop; TV Girl

I Hope To Be Around; Men I Trust

Weird Fishes/Arpeggi; Radiohead

—

— Y. L. Perspective

My breath got louder and louder each second I ran. With my bento box hitting my hips, bag tossing around, and my skirt flying up, there was no way things could get any worse.

But luckily just around the corner, I spotted students climbing onto it, which made my feet run even faster.

Near late on my first day? Damn, Y/n, way to start your year.

Just then, I heard the sharp hiss of the engine, sending me faster towards the vehicle than I had been pacing myself before. But still, the driver was ignorant, obviously not caring how much I needed this. It wasn't like my parents would take me anyways.

"WAIT..! PLEASE WAIT!" I started on the side of the bus, running side to side with the wheels. After a few seconds of loud disruption, it finally stopped. The break was hard, and students inside were heard making remarks of protest.

Sure, I felt bad for the people who had to get a brake check, but I on the other hand was completely out of breath and near dead. Couldn't they spare me?

"I'm, I'm so.. I'm so sorry I.." My breath is short, and loud while I breathe in and out, trying my best to try and explain my tardiness to the driver. He simply sighs, gesturing for me to seat myself already.

While I stumbled down the aisle, I received a few weird glances from fellow students. Some familiar and some new. I couldn't tell if it was because of my reputation, or because I looked like a hot mess. Either way, it was too early in the morning for one to give a damn. And so, I seat myself next to another student, finally resting from the marathon I had just run.

I sighed, rolling my head back, and placed my fingers on my temples. 'I probably look like a mess right now.' I thought, letting out a huge sigh. Once I sat my fingers back down onto my lap, I observed more of the people I was surrounded by.

Some third years I was familiar with, a few that wouldn't dare speak to me, and some that were strangers. Other second and first years I didn't know at all; throughout high school, I thought it'd be best to stay hidden and introverted, especially if I were to become popular in the music industry. Lots of young stars still went to school, and usually got dirt easily thrown onto their title and that's exactly what I would avoid this year.

Bringing me back to reality, I capture a peek coming from the boy I was seated next to. He had fluffy gray hair and seemed just as tired as me. But the bus was so dark, I couldn't completely make out his features.

"Something wrong?" I said to him.

He jumped a little, adjusting his eyes back down to his phone. "S-sorry, I didn't mean to stare. I just- I think I know you from somewhere."

"Lots of people know me, buddy—" I lifted my head, facing him. 'Hey, this guy does pretty familiar. But there's no way I'd forget a face like his. Then again, I have the memory of an 80-year-old woman.' I think to myself, examining his features in an awkward mood.

"Wow, it is you. (Y/n), it's been quite a while!" He smiled widely, reaching a hand out to me. I only froze, too confused to comprehend the situation. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you're doing well!"

"I-Im sorry?" I question, wondering why a stranger would confront me this way. But something was off— I knew him, I just couldn't remember where from. Maybe from previous classes, or from a concert?

He turns slightly, growing a smile on his pale face. "I was trying to figure out if it was you or not, but it is! It's great to see you're better. How are you?"

"Who are you?" I ask back, a bit frightened.

"Uhm, well, I sat next to you in math class during my first year. Remember? I was a little ditzy, kind of annoying, I never shut up about volleyball..?" He asks, hoping to get a hint of nostalgia. "Come on, you've gotta recognize me, right?"

"Wait, Sugawara!" My finger jumps out, pointing to his sitting figure. "I'm sorry I couldn't recognize you! It sure has been quite a while. But I definitely remember you, now! You were one of the people who talked to me during my first year.. thanks for that. Anyways, how've you been?"

"I think that's my line, L/n." Suga pats my shoulder, then places his hand onto his lap. "You've changed so much! I've gotta know how you're doing!"

"I-I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing in your perspective, but thanks anyway. I've been doing just fine." I explain before a yawn escapes my mouth. Sure, this conversation was energetic, but I certainly wasn't.

"Again, so very sorry for being so forgetful. I don't remember much from first year, especially not anything in math, but I sure do recognize you now." I say, hoping my rudeness from before wouldn't have any effect on how he viewed me. Not that I cared, of course.

Luckily, Sugawara was forgiving that day. With a wide grin, he replies, "No need to apologize. People change drastically during high school; we're no exceptions. Although, I would've enjoyed being mutuals with you throughout most of it! I wonder why I haven't seen you around until today... I believe the last time we had talked was around the last day of first year."

"Yeah, we didn't have any classes together. If we had, I'm sure we would have stirred up a discussion. You seem very kind. " I gently smile, rubbing the nape of my neck. I tend to forget any bad memories, and the beginning of high school sure was a fat one.

"What a shame, you too seem wonderful.." He comments, gazing towards me for a split second, before reverting his focus. "A-anyways, it's a bit of a surprise I saw you here. Have you always ridden the bus? I usually take it in the mornings as well."

"I've actually just moved into this neighborhood. My parents work more hours than ever, so they decided it's best if I'm closer to school so that I can get to school and back quickly." I explain, tapping the sage green bento in my lap, before setting it on my side.

Sugawara nods, understanding the circumstances. "That makes sense. I'm sure you'll enjoy it now that you've got a friend in the neighborhood. Although, a girl like you must be quite familiar, right?"

'Is that intended to be disrespectful, or am I just tripping?' I think to myself, asking him to spell out the meaning of that remark. "I'm sorry, what? A girl like me?"

"Oh, crap! I didn't mean that to sound rude— I meant because of your band! I understand you guys are the talk around school, considering you're getting pretty popular in the field."

A sigh of relief leaves my lips, preparatory to my correction. "Oh, my band. I'm not sure I necessarily make friends, more like connections and acquaintances. Only a couple of students know about the band, and usually just the down-low ones. But enough about me, what about you, hm? I assume still volleyball obsessed."

I had obviously steered in the wrong direction with our conversation, for Suga's aura quickly altered at the mention of the sport. "Eh, I'm not as excited about it as I used to be." He says, along with a hint of dissatisfaction in his raspy voice.

"No way. What happened to cheerful Sugawara who asked me, the lamest, to join the girls' team?" I ask, hoping a bit of that childish personality was still inside the older version of Suga. The one which was taller, more masculine, more of a man than before.

"Honestly, can't tell you. 'Teams has been a mess ever since I've joined." He leans back in his seat, stretching his arms out, before placing them around his neck from behind. "We're hanging on my a very thin thread."

"Dang, that really sucks. You never know, things can always turn out better." I say, doing as he did, and resting against the leather seats.

"Yeah, of course. I guess it's pretty hard to keep going after so many fails, haha." A sad chuckle leaves his mouth, as he sighs.

"Anyway, nice talking. I'm outta take a quick power nap; I barely got sleep last night. Mind waking me up when we get to school?"

"Yeah, of course," Sugawara replies. With that, I'm left with laying music in my ears like always, and nodded off to slumber.

—

"Hey, sleepyhead. We're at school," I hear someone say, feeling a tap of a cold finger on my nose. Almost immediately, I shoot up from my position, standing directly above Sugawara while students leave the bus with their bags, having loud discussions of excitement. Was there anything more embarrassing than falling asleep on someone who ghosted you as a friend?

"Dear God, I'm terribly sorry." I panic, brushing down my blue skirt. "That happens on rides, it was a mistake."

"Oh, it's no big deal! Don't worry—" Suga chuckles, standing up from sitting. But before I could let him talk anymore, I started making my way towards the exit of the bus.

"Uhm, I've gotta go! Great talking, though. I'll catch you later, have a good day," I mumble, before frantically leaving the vehicle. 'What a morning.'

— K. S. Perspective

Before I could grant Y/n a polite goodbye, she'd disappeared in just a few seconds. But even so, the measly to,e I'd discussed with her was quite enjoyable. I couldn't believe how much she'd changed.

Long ago, the beginning of high school, Y/n was the type of girl you could barely see, as if she were invisible. I think the only reason I ever even noticed her was because we were seated next to each other in math class, and she immediately caught my attention. But thank goodness I had at least tried making an effort to talk to her, or else we wouldn't have had our conversation this morning. But it wasn't her fault she was so gloomy; supposedly she had lost someone close to her the year before.

Although our talk was brief, it still meant a lot to me. Especially since I was informed that she was finally happy. Looking down at the seat she used, there was a small box with a handle at the top, and a few anime stickers covering it.

'Is this what was making that loud tapping noise on the way here?' I asked myself, examining the box more. Small initials marked 'Y.L.' We're at the bottom, informing me it was Y/n's. At first, I considered handing it to our bus driver, but for the few years I've known him I learned he doesn't return lost things. And so, I leave the bus with it in my hands, ready to start my morning.

"Suga!" I hear a familiar voice call out to me. Looking up, I see my friend, Daichi, and another fellow behind him, Tanaka. The two of them jog towards me, with their scarfs unfolding in the wind. Both I had met in volleyball, and they've been my buddies ever since.

"Hey, Sugawara!" Tanaka exclaims, roughly slapping my back. The bento tosses in my hands, thankfully not spilling onto the floor. Unfortunately, he notices the box and snatches it right out of my hold. "Wow, feeling a bit girly, are we?"

I laugh in response, quickly taking it back. "It's not mine, it belongs to the person who sat next to me today. Hopefully, if I see her again I can give return it."

"Hopefully?" Daichi teases, as we all begin our walk towards the school doors. "Do you know her name?"

"Yeah, her name's Y/n. Know her?"

He lights up at the mention of their name, replying "Oh, I know her! That girl you never shut up about I in first year, correct?"

"Ha, yeah."

Tanaka doesn't understand, digging deeper into the situation. "What?! I've never known good ole' Suga to genuinely have feelings for a girl, unless it was some fling."

"I don't! I used to. There's a difference." I say, as we enter the building.

"If she rides your bus, then why don't you just give it to the driver? She'll probably go looking for it later at the end of the day. That is unless you wanna see her again.." Daichi teases me.

"You see, I would. But the bus driver is sort of a thief, and this girl has had a rough morning as it is. I just wanna be nice." I explain to him. Though a part of me did want to see her again and hope that we could talk longer than we did before.

"Sure you do," Tanaka says, patting our backs. "Listen, this is my stop. I'll catch you guys at practice?"

"Sure thing, bye." We say our farewells, and make our way towards the third-year halls. "What about you, Daichi? Got anything exciting happening this hour?"

"If stressing about volleyball counts, then yes! Most definitely.." He says, clearing his throat. "Watch, like, two people show up."

"Actually, Kiyoko informed us in the group chat that we've got at least four! That's better than last year, right?" I try my best to cheer him up, but it only made him even more nervous. I couldn't blame him. Too much was even more of a burden, but too little was a disappointment and would leave us exactly where we left off.

"It's okay, Suga. I have a lot of faith in our team. I know it's been rough lately, but as long as we try our best, we'll work this out." Daichi smiles, turning towards a separate hallway than mine. "I'm off to homeroom. See you later!"

"Yeah, see ya!" I'm left by myself, giving me more time to focus on what should happen today. - 1st, I have to go through each class and say hi to a couple of familiars, and hopefully not see anyone I've had a conflict with.

- 2nd, I had to give Y/ns bento back to them, but that could only happen if we happened to have a class with each other before, or if we had the same lunch.

- 3rd, volleyball tryouts were this afternoon. I had to make sure and represent myself as a role model, and make it clear I was vice-captain. I wanted nothing more than for the new players to feel safe.

But internally, I knew none of those plans would work out. Especially if I wasn't focused on them. Currently, all I could think about was Y/n, and how refreshing it felt to be around her again. When I was first around her was at the same time when things in my life started to fall apart, and my little crush on her made me feel better about it all. I guess you could say she was my comfort corner, even if she talked to me only once or twice during the week. And sometimes on her bad days, I would be able to at least get a laugh out of her, even if it meant making a complete fool out of myself.

All I wanted was for her not to harm herself or feel lonely, which took a quick turn towards me once the year had ended. Not only had my thing for her end, but my family soon fell apart after my mother had passed away. Of course, I still had my responsibilities like volleyball club and helping my younger sister and my father get through it. But it seemed that everyone would do their own thing, so I did the same. And for a while, I was lonely and didn't cope with the loss very well. Just like Y/n, I distanced myself.

This went on throughout my entire second year of high school, while she on the other hand started to get her life together. She started her band, made and covered a couple of songs, and finally healed from her hard year. Honestly, I didn't even really believe that she was in such a good state, but I was proven wrong today. Ultimately, she truly inspired me to pick myself up and start fresh. And now that she popped up so suddenly, I was back to square one.

'It's been a while, Y/n'

—

HEYYY SHAWTYYYS.

Give me notes.

SO, I've finally rewritten the first chapter of my fanfiction!! It took a while, but I did it. If you didn't know, I started this story about eight months ago, and I had no writing experience. Now that I'm reaching the climax of this story, I decided I should edit the chapter, especially since they sucked ass! Nothing much was changed, just far more detailing and extra feelings.

Overall, thanks so much for reading the first chapter. Please vote if you enjoyed it!! It helps others know that it's worth reading. And if not, no worries. Thanks anyways. I love you all so much!

- your friendly Suga simp

#sugawara x reader #sugawara koshi #koshi sugawara #haikyu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#ao3 #fanfic #anime #wattpad #writing #fanfiction

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oswildin · 4 years

Text

Bonded {Part Two} - Dhawan!Master x Reader

~ I’m surprised how many of you are enjoying this so far! We haven’t even got to the juicy bits yet! I’m very grateful that are you loving it though, I hope I don’t let you down with anything in this fic! ~

Summary: You’ve been separated from your friends, taken by a man you’d just met... With no sign of your troubles stopping anytime soon, you find out more about yourself you couldn’t have ever imagined.

Warnings: None

Song:

You furrowed your brows, trying to move your body as your head throbbed. You heard voices in the room with you as you tried to sit up. You opened your eyes, vision slightly blurred as you felt nauseous. You didn’t know what had happened. The last thing you remembered was being on a crashing plane with your friends... Then being taken by O. Or the Master... There it was again; that feeling in your head.

You sighed as you held the side of your head in your hand, looking over to see you were in O’s house. Or the Master’s ship, you should say. Barton was there too. He was chatting with the man as he disappeared quickly. You felt the room spin as you tried to steady yourself.

“You’re awake.”

The Master’s voice sounded from the console as you tried holding yourself up, leaning against a chair as you took deep breaths.

“What happened...” You muttered. “What did you do to me?” You questioned, your mind throbbing as he narrowed his eyes at you.

“Surprisingly nothing. You fainted.” He told you as he slowly walked round to you. “I can’t say I’ve had that reaction before... Is this body really that much of a looker?” He joked as you felt a wave of sickness flow through your stomach. You managed to resist the urge to vomit as he grimaced at you. “Do try to refrain yourself from puking in my ship.” He told you sternly. “If you’re going to do it, at least do it out of a window.” You shook your head, looking at him confused.

“Why am I here? Where’s the Doctor?” You asked as he growled, lashing out suddenly as he hit the console. He calmed down, taking a deep breath as you watched him intensely.

“You’ll be happy to know your little friends survived.” He said through gritted teeth. “For once, can she not just stay dead?” He rhetorically asked himself as you sat down in the chair, your body feeling weak. You didn’t know what was wrong. You were scared. You’d never felt this way before. It was like your mind was racing, every thought in existence was rushing through it. You tapped your hand on the table subconsciously as the Master noticed, stopping what he was doing as he quickly marched up to you.

“Why are you doing that?” He demanded to know as you looked at him confused. “That... that rhythm.” He told you as he nodded to your hand, you stopped as he mentioned it, shrugging your shoulders.

“I don’t- I don’t know.” You admitted, frightened. “I didn’t even know I was doing it.” He flared his nostrils as he shook his head, a sharp smile forming on his lips for a second as he towered over your feeble body.

“Do you feel it?” He asked, leaning down towards your face as you felt a weird sensation in your chest. “In here.” He placed his hand over his own chest as he tapped it. “That... Pull.” He narrowed his eyes, as they looked full of questions. You didn’t answer as you stared up at him, knowing what he meant. You couldn’t explain it. There was a lot of things you couldn’t explain lately. “I had to take you for that reason.” He told you as he narrowed his eyes. “It’s like... like I know you.” You didn’t know what to say, as you stayed silent staring up at the man in fear. You could feel his unhinged mind as he stared at you. “And when I-“ He reached out, grabbing your arm as you flinched slightly. “Touch you.” He finished, as you felt a burning sensation creep into your skin. What was happening?

You pulled your arm away, your breath heavy as he backed away suddenly. He too, almost looked frightened. You hadn’t seen that expression on his face. Not since he revealed himself. He didn’t seem like the kind to scare easily.

“What does it mean?” You asked quietly, voice shaking as the ship groaned, causing your head to throb as you winced. He noticed your discomfort, trying to fit the pieces together. “What’s happening to me...” you whispered as tears formed in your eyes. The Master tightened his jaw as he landed his ship. “This, this is a TARDIS...” You commented as he raised a brow at you. “You’re a Timelord.”

“How do you know that?” He looked over at you, as you shook your head.

“I don’t...” You told him truthfully. “I just... I-“ You felt your brain begin to hurt as you held your face in your hands, rocking slightly forward as he watched you. He couldn’t help but feel slight concern. He’d never seen a human act this way. It was curious, to say the least.

“Oh dear.” The Master spoke as he rounded the console. “Something is very wrong with you.” He told you straight as you sighed, looking back up at him. “Very, very wrong.” He shook his head.

“I think you need a Doctor.”

The Master dragged you by your arm as you felt your body heat up at his touch. He felt it too, but ignored the feeling as he entered the large room.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” The Master shouted, swinging his walking stick around as he looked at everyone with wide, crazed eyes. You felt weak, not even attempting to struggle away from him. “See the incredible shrinking device!” He three his stick down as he reached into his pocket, revealing a small hand held device. “Want to be smaller, ladies? You can!” He grinned as he zapped a woman nearby, turning her miniature sized as you gasped slightly at his ruthlessness. “Who's next? You, sir.” He eyed a man as you continued to be dragged with him.

“Do not move!” He shouted as everyone stayed still, afraid of the stranger. “Hands on heads.” He told them calmly, hand on hip. “Hands on heads!” He exploded as you flinched beside him.

“Let them go, and you can have me.”

You looked up to see the Doctor as a small smile formed on your face at the sight of the familiar face.

“I've got you anyway.” The Master threw you down as you groaned at the impact of the floor. “Did you just move? Did you move?” He went up to a woman as she shook her head frantically, fearing for her life.

“No!” She cried. You watched, fear in your own eyes.

“Oh, my mistake. Sorry. Sorry.” He laughed, holding his hands up as he walked away, before quickly turning back and shrinking the woman. “When I kill them, Doctor, it gives me a little buzz.” He walked closer to his enemy as she stared at him. “Right here, in the hearts. It's like... How would I describe it? It's like... It's like knowing I'm in the right place, doing what I was made for.” He told her as he was face to face with her. You watched on, helpless.

“What do you want?” She asked darkly as he looked her up and down.

“Kneel.” The Doctor looked taken back by his words. “Kneel, or they all die.” The Doctor rolled her eyes as she reluctantly knelt before him. “Call me by my name.” He told her, pointing to himself as he looked down at her.

“Master.” You felt that same feeling. That weird ache in your mind and chest.

“Beg your pardon?” He furrowed his brows.

“Master.”

“Can't hear you, love.” He tilted his head, gesturing to his ear.

“Master.” This time she spoke louder as you shook your head, the feeling inside growing. The Doctor looked over at you, seeing your weakened form as you looked ill. You saw the worry in her eyes.

“Stop.” You muttered, shaking your head. “Please, just stop.” You begged, as the Master turned, seeing you sat on your side. He felt a tinge of pain in his mind, as he recoiled for a moment. What was that?

“How did you do that?” He asked as he marched over to you. You shook your head, not understanding. “Tell me!” He exclaimed as you winced at his tone.

“Leave them alone!” The Doctor exclaimed as she went to get up, the Master aiming his shrinking device at her as a warning.

“Who are they, Doctor?” He asked, staring down at you. “You know something.” He glanced back at her as he looked at her darkly. “Who. Are. They?”

“I don’t know.” She told him sincerely, as you looked confused at the two.

“What are you talking about?!” You asked, scared. You’d never felt so scared in your life. “Doctor, what’s happening to me?” The Doctor’s hearts almost broke at the sound of your voice. She’d never seen you so... broken.

“(Y/N), there’s something wrong with you.” She told you carefully. “I don’t know what it is, but I have my suspicions.”

“Enlighten us.” The Master ordered as he turned back to the fellow Timelord.

“Oh come on... Use your head.” The Doctor spat back as he tightened his jaw, not appreciating her tone. “Thought you of all people would be able to see what is going on.” You looked up at the man, afraid as you watched his mind go to work.

“Down, Doctor!”

Someone cried from the crowd as a gun fired, shooting the Master in the arm as he groaned in pain. You felt a tingle in your own arm as the shot hit him. The Master growled as the Doctor got up, going to run for you, but she wasn’t quick enough as the Master picked you up, dragging you away with his good arm as he teleported back onto his TARDIS. He hissed in pain as he released you, allowing you to fall back to the ground as he held onto his injured arm. He kicked the console as he tried to control the pain.

A little while later, you were resting on an armchair as the Master had sauntered off into another room. You had just managed to close your eyes as he reappeared, his arm bandaged as he looked exhausted. You peered over at him, seeing his almost defeated expression. You didn’t know what to say. Or whether to say anything at all.

“Are you ok?”

The Master furrowed his brows at your words as he looked over to you.

“You’re the one dying, and you’re asking me if I’m ok?” He retorted as you shrugged lightly.

“Dying?” You raised a brow, taken back by his words as he sighed. He shook his head, walking over to you.

“Judging by the look of you.” He looked you up and down. “You have 5 hours tops before you are dead.” He paused. “So you may as well tell me who you are.” He sat opposite you in another chair as you furrowed your brows.

“I’m (Y/N)...” You answered, unsure on what he meant.

“No.” He stopped you. “Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear... What are you?”

“I’m... I’m human.” You looked him in the eye as he pursed his lips.

“No.” He disagreed. “You, my dear, are far from human.” You stared at him, questions rushing through your mind. “I can sense it.” He told you, leaning forwards. “I can feel your mind... it’s so... loud... and chaotic.”

“What do you mean?” You asked. “Please... I’m scared.” You admitted, not knowing what else to say. The Doctor wasn’t there. You were with a stranger. A stranger you knew you couldn’t trust, but something inside of you told you to.

“You, are a Timelord.”

Your mind spun as those words were spoken. You felt images flash through your head... Images of when you were a child, your parents, your first love, your first job, your first pet... Everything raced through your mind. But you also saw images of a burnt orange sky, magnificent buildings, golden sand, children playing... You gasped as you felt tears in your eyes.

“You saw it didn’t you...” You turned your attention back to him as you felt your chest rise and fall. “Gallifrey.”

Once more, images flashed through your head, seeing people wearing red robes, a dark room, the time vortex... it was burning you alive.

“Stop.” You told him, your cheeks wet. “Please.” You begged as he looked at you sympathetically.

“I’m sorry.” He told you sincerely. “But your biology is compressing you to death.” He informed you as you stared in fear. “Unless you release the Timelord inside of you... You will die.”

“Stop. You’re manipulating me. You’re lying.” You spat as he shook his head.

“Why would I lie? What can I gain from this?” He furrowed his brows. “The Timelords... They aren’t what they say they are. We aren’t what they told us we are.” He told her as he looked almost sad... but also angry, like a fire was burning inside of him. “Our kind is dead. Burnt to the ground. We’re the only ones left.”

Your heart wrenched at his words. You didn’t know why. You didn’t understand anything. You wished the Doctor was there.

“I ran.” You muttered. “I ran and I ran, until I couldn’t run anymore.” You gasped, covering your mouth as you didnt even realise you’d spoken those words. The Master knelt before you as he took your hands in his own. You felt the warmth of his skin calm you down.

“They got me.”

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wheredostarsgowhenyoudie · 3 years

Text

You'd never know what day your life would change. It could be today or tomorrow. It could be a day when the sun reigns in the sky or a day when stormy clouds rule. It could be a day you're happy or a day you're down. No one could tell. But when it happens, you'll know it, because suddenly everything is different and nothing will ever be the same again.

The day it happened, Merlin still wasn't convinced that Arthur wasn't lying when he told him he acknowledges that he has magic and that it doesn't change the fact that he's still an idiot.

The warlock wanted to believe him. He really does. But when one had been living in the shadows of lies, deceit and fear for as long as he had, it couldn't be harder to step into the light and accept that it was real.

Merlin hated that he couldn't be fully at ease with Arthur and the knights. He hated seeing the hurt in the prince's eyes every time he would wince when the royal would draw a sword or prepare to give an order. Merlin also noticed that the knights had been taking turns, keeping him company on his chores and going out of their way to ask him questions to learn more about his magic.

Merlin wasn't oblivious to their intentions. He knew that his friends were doing it to show him that it's alright to be himself around them. But as much as he appreciates their effort, try as he might, he still just couldn't erase the nagging fear at the back of his mind that Arthur would change his mind and decide that burning at the stake is where he belongs and that the knights would agree with him.

The worst part was that even if they do, Merlin would only understand their choice. They had been breaking the law by lying to Uther just to save his head. While Gwaine had no qualms deceiving the king, he knew the rest of the knights had their apprehensions. And Arthur, well it was him that Merlin feels most sorry to. What kind of friend does it make him if Arthur had to lie to his own father to protect him?

There's no question that Merlin couldn't have picked better friends. But what does that make him? For someone who has his secret out in the open, Merlin still doesn't feel free. Sometimes, he even finds himself believing that maybe he will never be.

It might just be so that for all the trials and tribulations magic had brought into his life, in the end, it will still be the one constant he can rely on.

Merlin barely managed to catch his breath on his way to Gaius' chambers when Gwen came running to him.

"Gwen?" he asks, instantly worried for the first friend he made in Camelot. "What's going on?"

"It's Arthur, Merlin!" Gwen answered. "Uther sent him and the knights to search what's causing the villagers' fright in the Forest of Merendra. Arthur sent me to inform you to take the shortcut and bring food and extra towels."

Merlin frowned. "When was this?"

"Just right after you left. They wanted to wait for you but Uther was insistent, and they couldn't tarry, else, Uther would be suspicious."

"I know that," said Merlin, knowing she was trying to assure him that they didn't leave him by choice. "I'll catch up with them. It should be no problem."

"Good," Gwen smiled before taking off the satchel strapped on her shoulder and handing it to him. "I prepared everything you might need. Now all you have to do is get a horse and leave." Then, taking the basket from him, she added, "As for the herbs, let me deliver them to Gaius. I'm sure he won't mind."

Merlin beamed, amused at her preparedness. "Thanks Gwen. I owe you," he expressed, clutching the supplies to his chest and running past her and into the stables. "And please tell Gaius I've gone after the prat!"

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Arthur couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the body lying still in the middle of the forest. He took a quick scan around the area just to see if they were being watched. It was a pity he got separated from the knights.

His own experiences with magical creatures had taught him to be wary, but he couldn't for the life of him, abandon the knight's code and turn away from a potential damsel in distress. And somehow, even if he wasn't willing to believe it at first, knowing that his idiot of a best friend has magic and could find him wherever he was, was a reassurance of its own kind. Not that he'll ever admit it to Merlin. The idiot would never let him hear the end of it if he does.

But just in case, he unsheathed Excalibur and prepared for an attack.

Carefully, he turned her so he could see her face.

"A princess?" he gasps, eyes instantly drawn on the silver tiara on her head. He had never seen anything like the pale blue dress she was wearing.

Arthur quickly reached a finger under her nose to see if she's still breathing. He couldn't help but worry what her presence here would mean if his assumptions were right.

To his relief, he had barely lifted her when she began to stir. He watched as chocolate brown eyes slowly blinked into awareness.

Gently, he helped her to sit up, making sure to support her back to keep her steady. The feel of his gloved hand on her back must have done the trick and she shrieked, jumping in fright of him. He would have laughed if she didn't look so scared.

"Oh, dear Merlin!" she exclaimed.

Arthur frowned. "You know my manservant?"

"Ahm," she started to say, and he easily caught onto her confusion.

"Forgive me, please," Arthur quickly apologized, making sure to step away to assure her that he meant her no harm. "My name is Arthur. I mean no threat to you, my lady, but I found you unconscious in the middle of Forest of Merendra. Tell me, where are you from? Do you remember how you got here?"

"Forest of-" she trailed, and he waited patiently as she finally seemed to absorb her surroundings. Her eyes widened in shock and she gasped, raising a hand to her forehead. "Oh, Hermione, what have you done now?"

"Hermione?" Arthur's face brightened. "Is that what they call you? What kingdom are you from?"

"I-…" she bit her lip in thought. "I'm sorry. Who did you say you are again?"

"Arthur. Arthur Pendragon, at your service," he reintroduced, waiting for recognition to dawn on her.

He didn't expect amused laughter to be her reaction. "Seriously, where are we? Is this some kind of a theme party? Are you in cosplay? Is that it? Well, I certainly can't remember drinking enough for this," she rambled. "Wait, I must be dreaming! That's it, isn't it? I'm dreaming, or I must be under a spell…A pensieve? But I don't remember…"

The prince listened to her patiently, mentally taking note of the words in her rant that he finds unfamiliar. Eventually, she stopped on her own and turned to him.

"Let's try that again, shall we?" she suggested. "Where are we?"

Arthur sighed but had no choice but to acquiesce. She still hasn't confirmed who she is and what she's doing dressed so thinly in this cold, or why she doesn't seem too worried at the thought that she might be under a spell. "We're in the Forest of Merendra in the Kingdom of Essetir. We're miles away from Camelot."

At this, her eyes widened and she pulled away from him. "Camelot?" Then, sounding fearful now, she asked. "And you're telling me you're King Arthur? As in THE King Arthur? Are you messing with me?"

"Well, no, it is my father, Uther, that is king. I'm only a prince. But I don't understand why you find this so hard to believe. Surely, you've heard of Camelot?"

She didn't get to answer though as the roars of the linen wrapped beasts finally caught up to him. Quickly, he helped her get to her feet and readied to defend.

"Well if you're Arthur, then what are they?" she asks, mystified. He couldn't help but wonder if she'd hit her head real hard that she still thinks she's dreaming.

But the pondering would have to wait as the creatures began to surround them.

'Anytime now would be great, Merlin.' He thought before he answered her.

"They're soulless animals' corpses being controlled by a sorceress."

"So they're dead? Like mummies?"

"You need to get behind me," he instructed, eyes at the beasts, only to startle when she stepped right beside him instead.

"How do we fight them?"

Arthur's first instinct was to tell her off for foolish bravery but one look at the advancing beasts told him there was no time for that. She at least needs to know what they're up against. "Fire, we need to burn them. But normal fire isn't enough. We need to-"

"It isn't working!" she was screaming before he could even register that she was holding a stick and one of the walking dead beasts was suddenly set ablaze.

"How did you?" he asked, before realization dawned on him and he turned to her in disbelief. "You're a sorceress!" he accused just as a lion jumped at him and he dodged, seeing her do the same in the corner of his eyes.

"What?" The girl, Hermione, scoffed, looking very much offended. "Flipendo!" she screamed before a light shot out of her stick and hit a tiger in the chest. "No, I'm a witch! Now, quickly tell me how to defeat them! Normal fire isn't working."

Arthur fought a headache from coming. Fate must be punishing him for treating his manservant so cruelly. As if dealing with one Merlin isn't enough…

"They're creatures of magic. The fire must be enchanted to destroy them."

"Of course," she breathed, eyes widening as though she'd just made a wonderful realization. Arthur barely moved his foot before he heard her say, "Stay back and don't move," and then, "FIENDFYRE!"

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Merlin had barely stepped into the forest when he felt it - magic both light and dark and so intensely heavy that he won't be surprised if he could touch it just by reaching out his hand.

He hurried his horse to the source of the screams and light, but nothing could have prepared him to what he saw.

A girl dressed like royalty was standing before a disgruntled Arthur, her arm outstretched and preventing the prince from taking any step farther as they stared down the army of mummified beasts advancing towards them.

His heart all but leaped out of his chest at the sight of the phoenix erupting from her wooden stick.

"ARTHUR!" he yelled.

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The frightened voice sounded very much like his manservant, but the prince couldn't keep his eyes away if he tried, gaping as the fire bird flew to devour the whole beastial army, leaving nothing but ashes on its wake.

He only breathed, alert and mortified when the phoenix started to turn on him. Before he knew it, Merlin had thrown his own weight to push them both out of harm's way and onto the ground, a move they soon found unnecessary when the fire bird released an ear piercing screech before drawing back and disappearing into thin air, leaving their eyes to settle on the lone girl standing in the middle of the devastation.

Legs apart, back straight, eyes ablaze and unrelenting, and with her hair crackling of magic - she looks like the perfect embodiment of an avenging female angel if they'd ever seen one.

No one said a word until she broke the silence.

"Is that enough?" she asked, eying them expectantly. "Are we safe now?"

"Huh," was the prince's unintelligible response, the only one he could manage after seeing what he saw. But he saw her brow lift higher and knew she was awaiting his answer.

"Yes," Arthur finally agreed, "I suppose that will do it." Then turning to the astounded warlock lying on his back beside him, he says, "Merlin, I think she just beat you in the most glamorous display of magic."

"You're-" she started to say, but the use of magic must have drained her and she began to sway.

Arthur hurried to help but Merlin signalled he let him instead, still feeling the lingering trace of unfamiliar magic in the air. It felt like his own and yet so different.

"SIRE!"

"Merlin!"

The voices came from the knights who arrived just in time to see Merlin carry the now unconscious girl in his arms.

"Who is she?" he found himself asking.

"I don't know," Arthur said, sounding as puzzled as he looked, staring at the sleeping damsel. "She seemed lost. She didn't even know who I am and yet, she protected me." Looking at his manservant, he asks, "Is she alright?"

Merlin nodded.

"Merlin, you alright mate?" Gwaine asked, seeing him look so perplexed.

This time, Merlin didn't nod, unsure of it himself.

He just witnessed magic unlike anything he'd ever seen.

But then she stirred on his arms, the tip of her stick accidentally touching his arm and Merlin's breath was caught at the feel of her magic humming and causing his skin to tingle with warmth.

"I think I need to speak with Kilgharrah."

A/N: Chapter 7 up! Read it here at...

#merlin #bbc merlin #hermione granger x arthur pendragon #hermione granger x merlin #merin and arthur pendragon #au #friendship #adventure #romance #fanfiction

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sidhelives · 3 years

Text

I Can Only Hope You Won't Be Too Disappointed

Fluffcember 2020

Prompt: Family/Friends

First chapter under break, please use link to read full fic.

Hero ran her hands down the Warden blue silk of her gown for the one hundred and thirty-fifth time as she gazed at herself in the mirror. It felt soft and light, so different from her armor, and her bare shoulders felt cold, naked in the cool air creeping in through the window. She took a deep breath and released it slowly, willing the nerves she felt jangling the edges of her vision to still.

"Wow. You look incredible."

She started at the sudden voice, closing her eyes to regain her bearings. When she opened them again Nathaniel was beside her in the mirror, his grey eyes, two shades darker than her own, taking in her carefully upswept hair and tastefully painted features.

"I didn't mean to startle you," he put his hands on her shoulders, rubbing them softly and warming her chilled skin.

"It's alright, I'm just a ball of nerves I'm afraid." Hero smiled, covering one of his hands with her own. "Let me look at you." She turned, dress rustling as the slight train dragged across the stones. Nathaniel obligingly stepped back, put his arms out, and turned once for her, his smile equal parts proud and uncomfortable. The suit had been custom ordered from Denerim, jet black with a high sharp collar which accentuated his equally sharp jaw. The waistcoat was the same rich blue as her gown and embroidered with the silver griffins of the Wardens.

"You look impeccable, as always." She smiled, tucking a lock of dark hair behind one of his ears, her fingers brushing softly against the silver hoop set into his lobe: Anders had goaded him into the piercing months ago. He had been embarrassed by it at first but had seemingly grown fond of the feature. Hero thought it brought out his eyes, which may have had something to do with his change in attitude.

Nathaniel caught her hand and laid a kiss against her palm. "We could still cancel," he offered sincerely.

She sighed. "Everyone is already here, you can hear them milling about the great hall getting antsy."

He shrugged, a wry smile creasing his eyes. "You're the Warden-Commander. Just say that there are hyper-intelligent Darkspawn climbing the walls: that will clear them out quick."

Hero laughed, tipping her head back and pressing a hand to her chest. "If only it were that easy." She shook her head. "What have you done to your cravat?"

Nathaniel glanced down. "What's wrong with it?"

Hero rolled her eyes. "Let me see it."

Laughing, Nathaniel tipped his chin up to give her access. "What's got you so jumpy?"

She flicked her eyes up to his face then back to the cloth around his neck, straightening and tying it properly. "Just pre-party jitters, that's all," she lied. She glanced up at his face again and found him looking down at her, a single disbelieving eyebrow raised.

"But what is it really?" He asked.

She looked away, focusing on the cravat, not wanting to meet his eyes. "It's nothing."

Nathaniel's palms rubbed comfortingly up and down her bare upper arms. She finished the tie, tucking the ends into the neck of his waistcoat, and sighed heavily. She was a terrible liar. Always had been. "Fergus is here."

"Ah." Nathaniel nodded. "And I'm guessing he doesn't know about us."

She shook her head, the apples of her cheeks growing hot from embarrassment. "No. I—" she swallowed hard. "I'd been trying to think of how best to tell him…"

"It's been months, Hero."

She had expected him to be angry or at the very least frustrated with her lack of candor, but he sounded more perplexed than perturbed. She smoothed her fingers over the silk of her gown again, hands flighty and aimless without weapons to hold. "I don't know how he'll react…"

"When he finds out you're sleeping with the son of the man who murdered your parents."

" In love with ," Hero corrected, poking him firmly in the chest. "And yes, that is the worry."

"It will be fine." He smiled, using one finger to tilt her chin up. "You don't really think your brother will take a swing at me in the middle of the party, do you?"

Hero smirked. "He might. You don't know him like I do."

"I might look dashing with a black eye."

"Less so with a broken jaw," she chided.

Nathaniel frowned in a way that indicated he had not considered that possibility. "Do you… not want to tell him?"

Hero's mouth dropped open in a silent gasp. Nathaniel's eyes were sincere, the question offered as a genuine possibility rather than a rebuke, but the fine lines around his eyes belied the sting of the words. "Of course I want to tell him." Hero told him firmly. "I love you, and I don't want to hide that from him. I just... need to explain it to him in a way that doesn't end with a duel."

Nathaniel pressed his lips together, head nodding softly. "Okay." He kissed her forehead.

"Are Delilah and Albert here?" Hero asked, smoothing her hands down the front of his jacket.

"They had trouble finding someone to watch Ollie—"

"Oh no!" Hero's brow creased harshly as she frowned. "They should have brought him."

"Which is what I told Delilah." Nathaniel smiled. "They're here."

Hero's expression reversed, her smile lighting up. "It will be so nice to see them. Ollie must be so big now."

Nathaniel suddenly snapped his fingers. "I almost forgot. I have something for you." He went to a bureau and began digging through a drawer. "I placed a special order with Wade. Not his usual line of work, but you know how he likes a challenge."

"A gift made by Wade? You know I can't wear a weapon with this dress." She gestured at the fine silk.

"I'm sure you could fit a dagger or two into that pillow thing on your behind," Nathaniel teased without looking up.

Hero crossed her arms petulantly. "It's a bustle . They're the height of fashion in Denerim at the moment, or so I'm told."

"Are you sure someone isn't playing an elaborate joke on you?" He looked back at her with a roguish smile. "I think your behind looks perfectly lovely without any augmentation." Nathaniel closed the drawer with a snap, a flat wooden box retrieved and tucked under his arm.

Cheeks gone pink, Hero frowned harder. "Is that what you got me then? Bustle knives?"

"That would have been an excellent idea." He returned. "I can only hope you won't be too disappointed." He tipped the front of the box towards her, releasing the catch with one finger and lifting the lid.

Hero gasped softly. "Oh, Nathaniel. They're beautiful."

Lazurite and Silverite forged in delicate swirls and curls, framing and supporting a filigree Warden's crest pendant and matching earrings sported exquisite miniature griffins in flight. The metalwork stood on its own, without gems or insets, ingots tempered to an immaculate shine, which caught and reflected light, dazzling her eyes.

" You're beautiful," Nathaniel corrected. "These are very fine things, but they can only compliment your radiance."

Color rushed to Hero's cheeks. "Thank you." She reached out a tentative hand to the jewelry. "Can I...?'

"Wear them? That was the intention, yes," he smiled glibly.

Hero wrinkled her nose at his cheeky smile and plucked the earrings from the velvet-lined box, slipping them easily into her ears. When she reached for the necklace Nathaniel pulled the box just out of her reach. "Let me."

With a sheepish smile Hero nodded and turned around. In the mirror, she watched Nathaniel carefully drape the necklace around her neck. The metal was cold against her skin, but the warm caress of his fingers as he placed and clasped the chain kept her from shivering.

"There." Nathaniel met her eyes in the reflective glass. "Perfect."

His expression was so soft, so full of awe it made Hero's chest clench. She turned and caught his face between her hands, pressing her lips to his. His arms encircled her waist holding her tight and returning her amorous embrace. Hero felt light-headed and giddy as they parted, giggling at the smear of red her lips had left on Nathaniel's mouth.

"Oh, Dear. You need a handkerchief."

Nathaniel glanced at the mirror and snorted, pulling a square of lining from his back pocket and roughly wiping his mouth with it. "And not just me."

Hero caught sight of her reflection in the glass and descended into another round of giggles at the stain around her own lips.

"We can't have the Warden-Commander turn up to her Wintersend banquet like that. What would Mistress Woolsey say?"

Hero let him lift her chin and gingerly clean her face. "I'd tell her it was your fault. It's not a lie."

Nathaniel smirked. "I'd happily take the blame for that." He placed a chaste kiss upon her cheekbone, just below her eye, then offered his arm. "Shall we descend upon the rabble, Warden-Commander?"

Hero rolled her shoulders back and took his arm. "Let's, Warden-Constable."

He walked her out of their quarters and down the hall, the sound of music and chatter growing louder with each step they took. Despite her momentary ease, Hero felt the cold breath of anxiety creeping back up her spine as they drew closer to the main hall.

She had to tell Fergus.

It would be easy, she told herself. She was a grown woman, battle tempered and fully capable of making her own decisions; and he was her brother, he loved her unconditionally.

She needed to trust that he loved her more than he hated Howe.

Nathaniel broke from her side as they reached the door to the hall, giving her crown a final reassuring peck before he opened it for her. The sound of the hall stilled as the door opened, and Hero could hear Garevel announcing her. Her eyes lingered lovingly on Nathaniel's for a moment longer, then she took a deep breath and stepped through the door.

#fanfiction #dragon age #dragon age awakening #nathaniel howe #hero cousland #wintersend #fluffcember

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poeedamerons · 4 years

Text

contigo aquí (como un perro fiel)

Read it on A03

Carlos couldn’t blame anyone but himself for his current predicament. TK was beyond clear when they met - and on later dates - that he wasn’t looking for a relationship. He was looking for something casual: an outlet of all his anxiety, a distraction from the chaos inside his mind and heart. It hurt Carlos to be just a warm body, another notch on his bedpost and to know that what they share is just one of the many things TK does to feel something other than numb.

He thinks about the night he processed TK down at the station and his stomach churns at the thought that the fight might have got the other man closer to his goal than any moment they ever shared together.

TK’s a hurricane and Carlos never stood a chance. No matter how many times people warned him, hell, he even tried to stay away outside work calls, but TK's pull is stronger than any man he’s ever met.

Carlos stupid heart couldn’t help but fall for those puppy green eyes and boyish charm. He was truly a goner the moment he first saw TK on that fateful call. TK’s eyes had sparkled under the moonlight like glistening emeralds and his self satisfied grin was blinding, capable of lighting up the darkness. He was the most beautiful, wild thing Carlos has ever seen.

That night Carlos wished nothing more than to have that man look at him like that someday, but as things stood, the world had other plans for Carlos Reyes and TK Strand so he told himself he could bury his feelings and keep their friends with benefits arrangement going, because half TK was better than no TK at all and Carlos can't’ help but hold onto the hope that maybe the handsome firefighter would change his mind at some point and would see how perfect they are for each other and take on Carlos’ earlier date invitations.

Carlos of course knew better than to scare TK or make him feel pressured. Carlos isn’t like that, but with TK’s bad breakup, substance abuse history and his father’s cancer he knows he needs to be extra careful. Luckily to him, patience is one of his virtues and TK is worthy of all gentle care on this earth and Carlos is more than happy to become the firefighter's safe haven.

They’ve come a long way into their arrangement, but they are still nowhere near where Carlos wants them to truly be.

He sometimes allows his mind to trick itself into believing they are together, that all the times they meet up to go clubbing or to eat are dates between boyfriends, and not TK’s carefree way to be now that his life seemed to be stable enough. He even likes to think he helped TK reach that level of balance, but he knows he is kept at arm's length no matter how much he longs for the intimacy of a relationship and to be able to kiss his green eyed lover senseless whenever he feels like it.

But Carlos lives for those tiny moments where he can let go and be the lovesick fool he turned himself into. When TK smiles brightly at him before bumping their noses together, when they tease each other in and outside the bedroom, when they spend hours talking just about anything and nothing. In these moments everything else ceases to exist and TK is his whole world.

He knows how self destructive this is and he hates that he’s allowing himself to become this way, to get himself stuck into a relationship that is going nowhere but he really cannot put into words how easy it was to fall in love for TK. The other man had no idea the effect he could have on people, the effect he had on him. If this is what drug addicts felt, Carlos had a new level of empathy because he couldn’t help but come back for more.

He’s in deep, so deep Michelle started worrying he might be drowning. And the thing is, after a year, Carlos has to admit that he is. He is drowning in this mess and he can’t help but feel utterly defeated. He knows he isn’t perfect and can make a list of his flaws, but he knows he is a good looking guy, has a controversial but very community centered job that pays his bills and allows him to have a nice place and car and he is also pretty charming, if he can say so.

He’s been told many times he is made of boyfriend material, and while he never allowed that to get to his head...it seems that he either wasn’t the kind of boyfriend material TK was looking for or TK wasn’t really looking for one at all, and Carlos had to face the facts that he is either going to keep drowning until he spins out of control or he call it quits and focus on healing his heart.

The idea of ending them is like a gut punch for so many reasons, because it would mean to admit that TK has always been so close, but always so far out of his reach and nothing he did ever really changed that. He just sent himself deeper and deeper into heart break.

It’s a tough call, but one he has to make. Carlos takes a deep, sobering breath and sends TK a quick message asking if he is doing anything after his shift today. He presses send before he can chicken out and sets it on his table, trying to contain the anxiety that comes with waiting for an answer.

Sometimes he gets quick replies, sometimes it takes hours. Carlos at least knows it’s not because TK is ignoring him but because he might be on a call and too busy to check his messages. His phone vibrates with an incoming text message and it’s TK answering him back.

I’m free, wanna meet up?

Yes. Carlos texts back. Can we meet at the coffee shop by the fire station?

He thinks it's better to choose a public space, somewhere where they could talk somewhat privately, but where TK wouldn’t feel trapped.

Sure, see you there.

Now, all Carlos has to do is survive the excruciating hours until the end of both of their shifts and get this over with. He knew he was doing the right thing, even if his heart would break into a million pieces while doing it.

-----------

Carlos has to be honest, he had no idea what TK’s reaction would be, but he really wasn’t expecting TK to freeze across from him when he finally finishes his speech, one that he spent the rest of his shift carefully crafting and rendered him absolutely useless for any work.

Uneasiness fills the pit of his stomach and he can hear the hammering of his beating heart, like it wants to break free from it’s cage, but Carlos waits for TK to speak up first. The silence that fills their table isn’t an awkward one because Carlos knows TK and he knows the other man sometimes just needs a few minutes to process things and react. He is aware that this is something T.K worked hard on with his therapist, a method to keep himself from relapsing and Carlos not only respects that, but is supportive of TK’s efforts and needs.

“Is it something I did?” TK asks, his brows furrowing like he was presented with a really hard puzzle.

Carlos is caught off guard with the question. “TK,” he exhales, struggling to get the right words out. “You haven’t done anything wrong,” it was more of what T.K did not do or is unwilling to do. Still, he leans in the table, his fingers gripping his coffee cup for dear life.

TK’s green eyes were focused on him and Carlos has to fight the shiver that wants to run up his spine.

“I just…” am helplessly in love with you and I can’t bear it any longer that you don’t want me back his traitorous mind completes, but Carlos knows he just can’t impose his unrequited feelings on TK anymore but he really couldn’t find a legitimate reason for it. “Don’t want to do this anymore. I’m sorry,” Carlos swallows the lump on his throat. He breaks his gaze from TK’s for a sobering breath. His chest feels tight and he can feel blood rushing through his veins. “I just wanted to tell you in person and make sure we are good,” Carlos gathers the courage to look at TK and commit his angelic face to memory.

There is slight crease on TK’s brows, but he remains quiet, as if waiting for Carlos to go on.

He wet his lips. “We will still see each other on a regular basis because of work and I didn’t want things to be weird. We have a lot of people counting on us.”

“Oh…” He hears TK’s gasp. “If that’s what you want, I guess all I have to say is…. Thank you?” Carlos has no idea what to say to that, he is even more confused on why TK’s eyes look a little hurt and bewildered, but his face and voice don’t betray much.

“So, we’re good?” He asks, clearing his voice.

“Yeah,” TK’s answers back after a few moments of silence. “We’re good”. Looking at the man across from him, Carlos catches a glimpse of a smile on TK’s pink lips as he speaks. It feels like a twisting knife to his heart.

“Good,” Carlos is fighting the tears that are threatening to spill, getting up from his seat. “I have to go, I promised Michelle I would help her go through some stuff on her sister’s case.” He gives TK what he hopes is a smile, but he is sure it’s closer to a grimace. Honestly, he couldn’t care less, he just needs to leave . “See you around?” He asks over his shoulder, in a last attempt at looking composed.

“Of course, Officer,” TK answers, throwing him one of his boyish, signature winks.

Carlos sobs all the way home.

-----------

He avoids any contact with the 126 for at least a week, which is nothing short of a miracle considering how much their paths cross during calls, but somehow Carlos manages to go an entire week without crossing paths with a single member of the AFD, without it looking like it was intentional.

While a week is not long enough to lick his wounds and start picking up the pieces of his heart, it's a start . It's more than he could possibly have managed on his own and there was no way he was going to jeopardize his job just because of a boy, even if said boy is probably the love of his life.

Michelle had been acting as his emotional crutch and Carlos couldn’t be more thankful for her friendship, but the void TK left in his life was not one that was going to be easily filled or forgotten. But it was nice to have someone taking care of him like that.

It’s not like Carlos isn’t expecting for them to meet on a call, he is, but he isn’t as ready as he believed himself to be. Watching TK in all his fireman glory, removing his helmet as his hair is blown by the wind and his eyes glint with excitement is harder than he ever anticipated. His heart tugs, his feelings for TK unchanged since their last meeting.

When their eyes meet, Carlos is ready for the awkwardness that follows, but it never comes. TK acts like his normal self and while it hurts, it’s clear that Carlos is the only one with his heart on the line. He is at least comforted by the fact that he made the right decision and should focus on forgetting TK Strand forever.

-----------

Carlos has no idea how he got dragged in this group date thing in this day and age, but there he was, at their regular bar, surrounded by coworkers and Sarah’s brother in law Michael. Sarah has tried setting them up before, but Carlos has always brushed off because of TK, but finally gave in.

Michael turns out to be pretty dreamy. He is good looking, has a nice 9 to 5, non-life threatening job and is very fun to be around. Carlos finds himself bent over in laughter several times during the night and is enjoying himself. He even allows his mind to wonder if this could be the guy that would finally take his heart and soul away from TK.

The sound of raucous laughter attracts Carlos gaze and he freezes as if a bucket of ice had been thrown over his head, because he caught sight of Mateo and Marjan and knows it is a matter of seconds before TK follows suit.

It's been four months, but seeing TK is never easy for him. Especially today, when he is - for the first time in months - on a date with a man he is currently hoping that might be just the cure he needs for TK Strand.

“Is everything okay?” Michael asks worried.

“Yes,” Carlos answers back, turning his gaze back to the man in front of him. “I just kind of lost myself with the noise.” He jokes, hoping to brush it off as distraction. The smile Michael gives him back shows him he was successful.

-----------

Carlos has no idea how the fight started. One minute he was line dancing with Michael, rolling with laughter. The next there’s people screaming, Michael on the ground and TK looking pretty angry with bruised fingers.

A crowd filled with angry voices closes them in and Carlos starts to worry that an even bigger fight between first responders might break out if this situation isn’t controlled. He makes his way to Michael, helping him up as the blond man holds onto his bleeding nose in a lousy attempt to stem it, thankfully Michelle is right behind him, ready to take charge of the situation.

He helps Michael sit on a chair and allows Michelle to do her thing. Asking the other man if he is alright is pointless, after all he just got punched on the nose, but he squeezes his shoulder reassuringly.

“I will check out if everyone is okay,” He absolutely lies to Michelle and his date, which is something he hates but he really needs to see if TK’s is alright and he isn’t about to tell them that. “I will be right back.” He releases the man's shoulders and receives a quick nod from Michael, and Michelle is too busy looking his date over to catch him on his lie.

He scans the sea of people inside the bar and TK is nowhere to be found. He sees some members of the 126, but decides against asking them where or even what happened. At least not yet. He doesn’t think he can process that at the moment. He chooses to make it through the crowd and towards the door, hoping TK might have run outside.

The cold night air hits Carlos in the face but all he can think about is finding where TK is. He scans the parking lot and his eyes zero on TK’s silhouette huching against Captain Strand’s car, grumbling what Carlos thinks is a string of curses. He almost smiles at the sight.

He makes his way to the other man, shoving his hands in the pocket of his jeans.

“Hey,” He calls out as he gets closer, alerting TK of his arrival and before he can get closer, TK starts to walk away. Carlos furrows his brow and lets out a sigh. So this is how’s going to be, huh? “TK,” He calls again, this time walking faster to catch up to him. “TK, wait up!” Really? They were going to play this game? Because Carlos was beyond tired of playing games and before TK could make a run Carlos wraps his fingers around TK’s arms. His grip firm enough to make TK pause, but not enough to hurt the other man or even trap him.

“What?” T.K’s snarls and Carlos is taken back by his tone, releasing his grip in shock. He has never seen or even heard TK sound like that and he is momentarily lost for words. He has seen TK after a fight and knows how the other man gets moody, but he can’t comprehend what motivated TK this time. He dreads even thinking TK might be relapsing.

“What do you mean with ‘what’, TK?” His voice is tight and for the first time in his life, his patience with the other man is running thin. “You punched Michael completely unprovoked. What the hell was that?” His piercing glance was trained in TK, but only when the other man raises his hands to his hair he remembers the bruised knuckles. “And you,” He huffs, annoyed. “Didn’t even get your hands looked at. How do you think it’s going to be tomorrow when you have to work?” God he was really annoyed at how TK could be so reckless with his health.

“Why do you care?” TK starts, with thinly veiled sarcasm. TK’s green eyes meet Carlos brown eyes with renewed anger. “Shouldn’t you be with - what’s his name again?” TK snorts sarcastically and Carlos could see him pretending to think it over. “Whatever is his name. Your new boytoy. Why don’t you go back to him and leave me alone?” TK expression turned sour, voice laced with poison.

Carlos sure as hell never seen TK acting like this, but he is not going to back down now. He can’t allow TK to go on like this.

“TK - fuck ,” His voice wavered. “You just can’t go around punching people, what’s gotten into you?” h e jabs his finger into TK’s chest. “I just… I can’t…” He runs his fingers through his hair as frustration settles in. “You make no sense. I don’t understand you at all. You are acting like a jealous boyfriend or somethi-” and it hits him, like a wave during a storm, unexpectedly but with such turbulent force that Carlos almost loses his footing.

TK was jealous. TK was jealous of him and Michael at the bar. That is why he picked the fight. Why he punched Michael. And unquestionably the reason why he was acting like a petty child during this whole conversation. The realization is staggering and Carlos for a moment feels like everything around him is in slow motion and the sounds of passing by cars seems like miles away.

“Are you jealous?” Carlos asks dumbfounded, because he needs to hear it from TK’s lips to believe it, even if all the clues lead to only one possible answer.

The guilty look on TK’s face and how his shoulders hunch tell Carlos that he is indeed right and Carlos hearts leaps with hope, set aflame by the possibility that TK might have feelings for him, like he always dreamed.

“TK,” He calls, this time his voice is soft and cajoling. He gets closer to the other man, his fingers trailing down TK’s arm to intertwine their fingers.

“I’m not jealous,” TK’s answer with a whisper and Carlos has to bite back a smile.

“Oh, so you punched a civilian just because you felt like it?” He asked, amused. No one could blame Carlos for enjoying this situation, okay? “I’m waiting, TK.”

Carlos can see him chewing on his lip before sighing, staring at the ground as if he had been defeated. “Fine, I’m jealous, okay?” TK continues as though on a roll, chuckling bitterly. “And today was karma, wasn't it? I’m being punished for pushing away the best thing that ever happened to me because I'm a coward.” He swallows.

“TK-”

“I was blind-sided. When you broke up with me. I didn’t see it coming. I just… hated losing you. I thought that I couldn’t have any serious relationship after everything that happened back in NY, but that wasn’t true. Because there was you, Carlos. You just showed up right on day one, swept me off my feet and -” he says, swallowing a painful lump. “Was just perfect. Everything I ever wanted. And then I lost you. And I didn’t know how to get you back because you ended things and I thought… I thought you just didn’t want me anymore. I was hurt, because I love you so much it hurts, Carlos” TK licks his lips. “And today you were with him, moving on and I just couldn’t - I just saw how happy you two were and I just saw red. So yeah, I’m jealous. Happy? Now go back inside to your date.” TK’s admits, looking a bit pained.

Carlos head is swimming with TK’s admission, so many feelings and so much information to process, everything is crowding together, screaming and jostling for attention that he feels once again in the night paralysed. But in the back of his brain he has the power to squeeze T.K’s hand in reassurance and leans in so their foreheads are touching. He can feel TK’s labored breath on his cheeks.

He could scream with happiness because TK laid his heart bare and is in love with him.

“TK,” he starts, his voice surprisingly firm for how vulnerable he is feeling himself right now. He refuses to move from their position and can sense TK stiffen, nerving himself for a rejection. “You are such an idiot,” He starts and can feel TK pulling back, but he stands his ground. “How can you think I have been anything but crazy for you since the day we met?” He smiles against TK’s nose. “I have been in love with you for months. The only reason I ended things with you is because I couldn’t keep it casual anymore. I want you all to myself.”

And then TK is all around him and his mouth is hot and surprisingly soft, dragging over Carlos’s lips again and again until Carlos can’t help but moan loudly, his mouth fall open for TK’s onslaught. He presses Carlos body forward against a nearby truck and TK’s fingers slide up Carlos back, touching him under his green henley.

“TK, I, fuck,” TK moans and the sound goes straight to Carlos dick, making his blood fizz wildly inside him. “Okay,” He pushes the other man. “We need to stop.” TK whines and Carlos chuckles.

“I know, cariño.” Carlos fingers touch the side of TK’s cheek. “But we need to get back inside, let Michelle take a look at your hand and then I am going to take you back to my place and have my dirty way with you.” He bites TK’s earlobe before pulling away, laughing at his expression.

“Must we?” TK asks, pouting his lips, hoping that would weaken Carlos resolve.

“Yes,” Carlos answers leaning in for a quick peck in the lips and pulls TK by the hand towards the bar entrance.

“Already boyfriending me, hun?” TK teases, eyes lit with joy.

“Oh, you haven't seen anything yet. I’m going to take care of you so hard, cariño.” A broad grin spread across Carlos' face, but his eyes soft.

TK smiles brightly. “Can’t wait.”

#tarlos #tarlos fic #911 lone star fic #911 lone star #carlos reyes #tk strand #my writing

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alri-xo · 4 years

Text

Ship of Dreams (Titanic 1997 AU) | Chapter 1

Gif not mine

A/N: Hello everrrrybodyyyy so after about twelve hours, chapter 1 is here 🎉 and like... Yeah... I hope you enjoy reading this part bc it's gonna be pretty long. (Italics are short flash backs). Made a few tweaks in how the scenes flow but still, it gets there. Don't worry bout it. And I added links below for you to easily navigate between the current parts of the story, and I'll be doing that for all the other chapters for easier access. Channelling this Bucky (thanks babe @witchymegg ) and post serum Steve in this fic, but in whatever Jack and Fabrizio wore.

Pairing: Alexander Pierce x Reader

Warnings: Age gap?, rich people being rich people, social discrimination, gambling. Swearing... I am on the app so this has no page break

The whirring of the large helicopter was heard through out a far radius, Y/N and Meg seated inside and Diamond on the old woman's lap.

As one of the submarines were being swung over to begin another mission, Jared and Baron walked over, talking. Baron was rather aggressive in his perspective on meeting lil old lady Y/N, calling her an old liar. Saying that her claims that she is Y/F/N is false as she 'died' in the Titanic.

However, Jared was too set in finding the precious jewel to listen to Baron's claims. He'd care less of his friend now that he finally has a walking diary willing to tell the tale.

Jared's Point of View

"She's dead, McKinley... Look it up. She might be another person for vanity... She's an old goddamn liar..." Baron says harshly as the loud propellers of the heli fill the ears of everyone on deck.

"Y'know what, do something you fancy right now, Martins... This is what I fancy, and if you don't want in, go some place else..." I say sternly as I walked over to help the old nutshell out the Sea Stallion.

Claiming that she's dead is rather harsh, now that she's here. In a wheelchair, frail, basically looking like time wasn't too good to her, no... She's no fine wine.

But she is definitely a fine piece of the puzzle, for my reputation and for this shipwreck. Thousands of dollars will go to nothing and will prove Baron right.

I'm his boss. I should be right...

Right?

"Good day, Mrs. Treville... Welcome to the Dal'nomer... I'm Jared McKinley..." I greeted as she was carried down the heli in her wheel chair, a young woman following her as she descended from the small door.

"Hello, Mr. McKinley... This is my granddaughter, Meg..." She greets me as Meg reaches out to shake my hand for a brief moment, following her grandmother soon after, a fish bowl with a few small fishes inside being handed to me.

Who the hell brings their entire house in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean?

💎

"How's the stateroom, Mrs. Treville?"

"Lovely, Mr. McKinley... Very lovely..." she says happily as she looked around the room, "Have you met my granddaughter, Meg? She takes care of me..."

"Yes, we met a moment ago, grandma..." She smiles as I caught Baron roll his eyes and chuckle... I looked at him, making him stop.

"Oh yes..." she says remembering me meeting her granddaughter. A short pause filled the air for a moment, as I looked at the mass of picture frames on top of the bedside table.

I mean, it's pretty inconvenient and her actions are pretty different than any old lady I ever met.

"That's nice... I like to bring my pictures with me... And Diamond of course..." she says pertaining to her white Pomeranian, seated on the foot of ther bed.

Old ladies... Quite peculiar specimens.

But that's not the thing I'm after. I'm after that big juicy jewel, and the story behind it. The safe combination, how did Pierce grab hold of it, of such a controversial piece of pressurized carbon.

"Anything else you need?"

"I would like to see my drawing."

💎

Reader's Point of View

We entered the lab. The white paint prominent all around. Technicians in their white garments as they fiddled with the tech around them, like children playing with their dolls.

They lead me to a place in the lab, a rectangular dish on top of the cold, busy table. A drawing of a woman submerged in the clear water.

"Lay there... Just like that for me..." his steel blue eyes focused as he directed my form, bare flesh but a large gem on my chest, dark as the rim around his irises.

His large hands held his pad of paper as he sketched in dark grey strokes.

His dark brown locks loose on his face as he glanced at me.

His muse.

It puts a smile on my face, as I remember how I was too innocent and certain to love someone for the grade of good, not knowing any better.

Jared nears to me, holding a black and white picture in his hands, the 'Heart of the Ocean.'

"Louis the Sixteenth, wore a fabulous stone called the Blue Diamond of the Crown, it disappeared in 1792. About the same time Louis lost everything from the neck up..." Jared said as he sat beside me, showing me the picture... I just listened to him and the gem's origins.

I always knew it cost a fortune, but now I just realized a thing that I felt back then... A diamond fit for royalty on a girl like me, marrying for what good reason?

It's a gorgeous piece, truly. However, by what Jared is saying, it is one for that of the Olympic Dieties.

"... Today, it would be more expensive than a Hope Diamond," his friend Baron nodded, agreeing that such is worth a fortune.

All I could think was I was both lucky but undeserving of having to wear it. A thing worth more than my whole existence is wanted by these people for whatever reason. I wouldn't want to jump into conclusions.

"Oh, I remember how heavy this was..." I said touching the picture of the necklace and looking ay the drawing, "I only wore it this once..."

Meg looks at me reluctantly, raising an eyebrow, "Do you really believe that's you, Grandma?"

I smiled at her and chuckled, "Why yes, dear... I was quite the looker..."

Jared smiles as my granddaughter giggles behind me. All is well on my part.

However, I can sense that one of the men, Baron, is skeptical of me. I wouldn't want to think so paranoid but, a man like him looks at someone like me differently.

Jared goes on with his story, and I listen, any rational human should do the same, "We tracked in down through insurance records but it was deemed confidential... Do you know who the claimant was, Y/N?"

"I believe it may be someone with Pierce..." I say in a lively tone. But that surname irks me.

Pierce...

"Ding ding ding! The father, New York personality, worked for the Navy as one of it's top asset and next part of his story, became one of the most known socialites of his time in the US. For his son, Alexander Pierce, heir of all that cash, splurged on the necklace during his trip to France..."

He paused a little, "For his fiancee, you... One week before the Titanic set sailed from England. Claim was made after the ship sank... Meaning, it went down with the ship."

Meg looked at the date, dictating it to Jared as he snapped his fingers.

"So if your grandma is who she says she is, it means that she wore the necklace when the Titanic sank..." Baron butted in like an omniscient being, but I don't really mind. What is there to mind anyway?

I can't force someone into believing who I say I am. I have gone through enough in my 100 years of existence and that's a thing I learned along the way, before I rode that ship. I couldn't force even my mother who I think I am... When she was alive of course.

Jared smiles at me like the Cheshire cat, eyes gleaming with anticipation, "And that makes you my new bestfriend."

💎

We went forth to another part of the lab. In front of me stood a table, antiques submerged in the Atlantic laid out in front of me.

It felt as if I was travelling through time, in my younger years. My glory days. The mirror looked in shape, though faded a little and cracked, it's still the mirror I once held.

"My reflection is a little different..." I smiled as I set it down. I took another antique from the table, a hair piece this time and inspected it. It still dawns its jewel toned colors, except it has faded through the test of time.

All these items still vivid in my memory. How new they were and the materials that made up every piece on this table, were so rare and priceless. It's extraordinary how they are still in mint condition, after such a long time.

The people connected to these items however, didn't stand the test of time very well. They come and go.

"Are you ready to go back to Titanic?"

💎

Third Person Point of View

"Live from 12,000 feet," Baron begins with his lecture, a simulation of what happened to the Titanic, the video running the events that lead to the sunken disaster, now at rest in the Atlantic.

Jared thought she doesn't need to know this, but Y/N insisted. She said she was curious, despite her thoughts on this skeptic, Mr. Martins, it would be rude to decline. Men can share.

Y/N, seemed facinated with the tech around her, showing the bottom of the ocean but seemed interested at a certain part of the sunken ship, which made Jared pay attention to her expressions, to unlock memories that may lead him to a successful mission.

He simply can't let every bit of this pass. Not a damn chance.

Baron went on and on... making sounds along the visuals on screen...

"Morse code, DIT DIT DIT..."

"Sank on the bottom like junk, BOOOM..."

"Pretty cool, huh?" Baron says happily, smiling at her, ancient eyes stoic as it ended.

"Thank you for that fine forensic analysis, Mr. Martins. Of course the experience of it was far less... Scientific..." she says, her voice frail, but willing to tell what it's like. Willing to be a primary source of information, a walking book... Diary rather.

"Will you share it with us?" Jared asks, preparing the tape recorder.

Y/N stands from her chair, looking around the monitors, the sad ruins of the ship below. Algae and sea garbage on its once metal hand rails and deck.

Reader's Point of View

I looked at the ruins of the ship from the monitors. Every part of it, every set of stairs, every surface of the ship, I see people, from all walks of life. The door, now rusted and covered in debris and underwater plants.

"Good day, Ms. Y/L/N..." a man says, who works in the Titanic opens the door for me, metal tinted in gold as its windows, the varnished wood engraved with expertly made carvings.

Futher past the door, the ivory staircase on full display. Passengers of first-class in their fine garments and black suits, up and down its grand halls.

It all flashes in my head, before my eyes. All the opulence, the lush life... And how lives clinged to the metal rails for dear life.

I felt my face get hot and my eyes burn as tears ran down my face, my mouth slightly agape as I covered it and gasp in air, as it drowning in my memories and in my emotions.

Meg's face paints to worry, as she takes my wheelchair, "I'm taking her to rest."

"NO!"

My voice strong and in authority. I called Mr. McKinley, and I am here to give it to him. Not for him to aid in my old age.

I sat down with the monitors behind me as the people in the room settled down, Jared holding a tape recorder in his hands.

"It's been 84 years-"

"Just tell us what you can... Anything at all..." Jared interrupts as I began to tell of my experience. Took aback, I thought to myself...

Does he really want me to say what I have to say or he just wants something else out of me?

"Do you want to hear it or not, Mr. McKinley?" I ask sternly, he falls quiet signalling me to continue.

"It's been 84 years, and I can still smell the fresh paint. The china has never been used. The sheets have never been slept in... Titanic was called, the 'Ship of Dreams,' and it was... It really was..."

Third Person Point of View

Everyone was smiling ear to ear, hugging each other as they boarded the large ship. People segregated, the first-class passengers need no such inspection, just by the looks of them.

Third-class however, needs to go through inspection. Health, appearance... Certain things were contagious back in the day.

In the sea of people, old fashioned automobiles honked loudly, the aristocrats. Easily distinguished as gold curls surrounded the edges of the vehicle's doors and windows, one after the other. It's contents may be people or their stack of belongings.

To these aristocrats and socialites, there is no in between when it comes to needs and wants. Every want is a need.

Reader's Point of View

So this is a ship, they say? It's but a big boat to me... Looks like any other ship. So much for taking me here when I could've lived my life on land like a normal girl.

I reached out my gloved hand to the chauffer, helping me off the vehicle. I looked through my wide brimmed hat, the Titanic in front of all the people bidding goodbye.

To these people, this is the grandest ship in their eyes and hearts. For me, who had a fair share of being on different ships, this just looks like a joke to me.

So much for bringing me here, Pierce.

"I don't see what all the fuss is about... It doesn't look bigger than the Mauretania..." I say to Alexander as he stepped down the vehicle.

"You can belittle all other things, Y/N but not the Titanic..." he pressed as if he himself already entered the ship, "It's over a hundred feet longer than Mauretania and far more luxurious... You're gonna love it..."

I walked forth a little to give space to my mother, Katherine, Karen for short. I call her that, but without her knowledge as she likes to make herself be heard and she wants it exactly how she wants it.

"Your daughter's far too hard to please, Katherine..." Alexander says as she helps her off the vehicle.

May I add, she's a feisty one.

"So this is the ship they say is unsinkable, huh?" She says looking at the ship, raising her thin eyebrow. Her hands tucked inside her hand warmers.

"Yes, it is unsinkable. God himself can't sink this ship." He beams as my mother looks at him impressed.

A small man approached Alexander, telling him that the luggage should go to the main entrance around the ship somewhere. He hands him a good tip, a more than good tip. His eyes grow large as Alexander tells him to look for Brock Rumlow, his right hand.

It's funny because his right hand man is nearer to my age than he is.

Choices.

We head off to the ship, my mother's arm linked to Alexander's, looking more like a couple than how we are meant to look the part as I walked passed the third-class passengers being inspected.

We walked on the ramp, the water under it and the people below us.

Upon entrance, Alexander made me link my arm with his. Thanks, mother for finally thinking that you set me up with this person and not you setting yourself up with him.

Although that last part sounds better to me. He's as old as someone like him should be.

It was the ship of dreams... to everyone else. To me it was a slave ship. Taking me to the the United States in chains.

Outwardly I was everything a well brought up girl should be. Inside, I was screaming.

💎

Third Person Point of View

Forget the ship for now, the focus should be inside the pub. A pub full of people from the working class, drinking liquor, good enough that their money can afford, as cheap prostitutes flirted with the men for a quick buck for a bite to eat.

Four men, playing a serious game of poker. Every last bit of coin they had, were on the table. One takes a drink of his brown liquor as he speaks in Swedish.

"Du dumma, satsar du på våra biljetter! (You dumbass, you bet our tickets!)" He says to his companion who snaps his attention to him.

"Du förlorade alla våra pengar och jag försöker få tillbaka dem. Välj nu ett jävla kort! (You lost all our money and I'm trying to get them back. Now pick a damn card!)," One of them says gritting his teeth at his friend, who was playing all he got.

One of them puffs a cigarette, his grey blue eyes focused on his cards and the man across the table. Caring less of his brunette locks getting in the way of his vision.

"Hit me again, Ivan..." he asks as one of the Swedish men slip him a card and he takes it.

His blonde companion, begins to worry a little. Thinking they bet everything and are about to lose everything and stay in Southampton for another long time before they get lucky.

He notices, his voice in a low, raspy whisper, "Don't worry buddy, we've got nothing to lose..."

"We have nothing to lose because we literally have nothing, Bucky..." he says worried, as his friend bet everything they had, except for their clothes...

The ship horn toots its mighty note, alerting the gamblers, Bucky looks around, his competition sweating seeds off his forehead.

"Moment of truth..." he begins looking up at the four other men, anticipation and worry painted their faces, "Steve..."

The blonde lays out his deck, "Nothing..."

He continues, "Ludvig..."

The man lays out his deck, "Oh, squat..." he continues to the other one, "Ivan, two pair... Hmm... Sorry, Steve..."

Steve's face pales, he begins to sweat buckets... Fear rushing over him as he feels cold, palms sweaty.

"W-we lost? I won't be able to see ma another while... Darn it, Bucky..." he begins to stammer and curse... Thinking luck was not on his side...

"Sorry, Steve... You lost and I WON! FULL HOUSE, BUDDY!" Bucky cheers as Steve stands up happily hugging him, kissing the two tickets, "We're going home!"

Profanities streamed from the lips of the two other men who bet their tickets. The poker gods not on their side.

The taller man stood up, over 6 feet tall, maybe 6 foot 7, and grabbed Bucky by the collar. Bucky closed his eyes to take the impact of the large hand balled up in a fist. Instead, he punches his companion, knocked out like a light.

"We're going home, Steve!!"

"America, here we come!!"

Their celebration came to a halt, the pub owner cutting in looking at the two men.

"You're not going to America... Titanic is, in five minutes..." he says pointing to the clock, every second wasting away.

The two men exchanged looks and rushed out the pub, all their belongings they stuffed in their bags like sacks.

They ran in the crowd chasing time, as Steve cheered excitedly as they were coming home.

They ran and ran, cutting between the crowd of people and the honking automobiles. They skipped the line for inspection and went straight to the third-class passenger entrance, Bucky waving the tickets at the guard.

"Passed through inspection?" The guard asks, like he does for every passenger.

"Don't have lice, don't worry... We're both Americans..." He says flushed and panting, waiting to get on the ship to their quarters.

The guard was testy, but there was a sliver of trust shining through, "Alright, come aboard..."

They entered the ship, but it came to a halt. The guard passed the ticket on to another guard to inspect them, to see if they are not posers.

He begins saying the names, "Eklund and... Norberg..."

He says, raising a brow... he thought, 'these don't look like Eklunds and Norbergs...'

He hands them the tickets, granting them entrance to the RMS Titanic.

"Come on, Ivan!!" They ran in the corridor, whooping in victory...

"We are the luckiest sons of bitches alive!"

They quickly run up the metal stair case, excitedly throught the crowd of people finding their way in the ship. They busted out the door as they stood along the people on the poop deck.

"BYEEEE" Bucky yells out to the crowd, as if someone important to him is in the crowd.

Steve looks at him puzzled, "You hung out with some skank?" He asks, knowing that Bucky's a smooth wolf where ever he went.

Bucky shakes his head, chuckling then looking at him in disbelief, "NO, Steve... It's a thing!!!"

Steve shrugged and started waving at the crowd as the ship moved away from the dock.

"Bye, everybodyyy!!! I may or may not forget youuuu!!" Steve yells to the crowd as the ship set sail to New York, back to their country and to their homes.

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A/N: CUUUUT so this is chapter 1 of Ship of dreams... You finally reached the bottom of this chapter... Thanks for reading I hope you enjoyed it 💕 keep saaafe

-Alri

Taggies 💕 (ASK ME IF YOU WANT IN)

@witchymegg @underworldqueen13 @amisutcliff @luna4501 @likeit-or-leaveit @vhsbarnes @uglipotata72829

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