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minsyal · 3 years

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The Fugitive: Finding Home, Pt. 2

Karl Heisenberg x Reader

Warnings: strong language, Resident Evil-esque violence and descriptions of gore, and dark/sexual themes

Summary: A once-in-a-lifetime trip turned dark. You're quickly exposed to the sinister and mysterious world of a cursed village under the control of dark leaders. How long will you last and will you ever return home in one piece?

The Fugitive: Finding Home Masterlist

Part 1 - The Beginning

“Mother Miranda, I’ve been requesting new maids for at least six months to this day.”

“That’s because you keep eating your other ones.”

You were shaken awake.

“I think that my castle would be best suited for her.”

“Oh, so you can bleed ‘er dry? You think that would really be the best use of anyone’s time?” A familiar voice retorted.

“Good morning!” A shrill voice squeaked as what felt like wood kicked at your face. “She’s up! She’s up! She’s up!” It exclaimed excitedly with a bounce, the voice became softer as the skittering of feet scrambled away.

“Ah,” the unfamiliar smooth woman’s voice cooed as your eyes adjusted to your surroundings. There were what looked to be six figures in the room. Miranda stood before you, perched upon a stage-like area that once housed what you could only imagine was a priest or preacher. To the left sat a cloaked woman with a blob of white resting in her lap. Another woman, also adorned in a white garb, sat towering over the rest, the light constant trickle of smoke danced upward from her vintage cigarette holder. On your right sat a familiar face, the man from the village who had saved you only a few hours prior. You’d come to know him as Lord Heisenberg. He maintained the large woman’s gaze, but the look held no love or any remote sense of familial belonging. Instead, his eyes were set ablaze, even behind the shaded rims of his glasses. Lastly, a shorter creature with a large hunched back moved ungracefully around. Its long gangly arms accompanied by its deformed face only aided in the growing unease.

The dull ache of your shoulder only distracted you from the bindings of your wrists for a moment. Your attention was quickly drawn to the rough ropes that dug their thorny threads into the soft skin of your wrists. Everything ached, mentally and physically.

“I do think she would be best suited with me.” The tall woman repeated herself. “There’s no doubt Moreau wouldn’t be able to handle her, and likely not the rest of you either.”

The hunched creature whirled back, throwing a forlornly glare in the woman’s direction. You supposed that was Moreau.

“You think I couldn’t handle her?” Heisenberg shot back, bent forward to rest his weight on his heels. His relationship with the large woman was clearly tumultuous given his outburst and her subsequent reaction.

“You always get them.” The shrill voice called. It was the doll; the fucking doll was talking... not that this should surprise you at this point. “She should come with us! We need more friends.”

“You’re not included in this conversation.” The tall woman mocked with a fierce glare shot violently at the doll as its mouth hung slack.

“Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on?” Thus far, nobody had managed to answer your simple question. The lot turned toward you, the majority with piercing stares. “Guess not.” You muttered, becoming quite fed up with the range of emotions you had been experiencing over the past day. If it kept going in this direction, you’d surely have to be treated for whiplash.

“She’s already proven to be a considerable pain in my neck.” Miranda loudly projected. Her steps were a clear juxtaposition to her tone, falling light on the church floor as she approached. “One villager is unable to walk, another dead.”

“Dead?” The words fell before you could stop yourself. She didn’t answer.

“Please,” Heisenberg leaned back once more, his hand moving to the interior of his jacket, “the dumb thing practically laid down when she was attacked by a lycan.” His fingers fumbled around the darkened paper of a cigar. Yellow, blonde streaks flashed upon his face as the distinguishable clink of a metal lighter was flicked. “I wouldn’t call that too capable.”

“My friend pushed me.” You argued, once again mentally reeling for the outburst.

Heisenberg let out a huff of smoke, intentionally blowing it in the tall woman’s direction, “sounds like a piss poor friend.”

“Enough.” Miranda had taken to her spot at the front near the alter once more. “The girl shall go to Alcina.”

A wicked smile crossed the tall woman’s face. “Thank you, Mother Miranda. It is so good to have you back.”

“Where are you from?” One of the girls ushered you through the depths of the castle. She wore a simple gown with stitches at the bottom, holding together the frail fabric that looked to be decades old.

“America.”

The girl cocked her head to the side like a newborn. “I don’t know of that town.”

Upon arrival you were escorted down to what was described as the maids’ chambers. In a small stone room, you were assigned a cot, given a chest, and told to change into uniform. Your arm ached and spasmed as you lifted the lid of the trunk open. Somewhere between being shot by the villagers and being transported to Castle Dimitrescu, the bullet was removed from your shoulder and replaced with gauze that limited the mobility of your arm. The distinct oily feeling of grease caused friction between the bandages and your clothes; the ache of alcohol still stung, causing a sore numbness.

The Lady insisted all maids conform to the strict code of dress. Long, unflattering dresses, short heels, and sometimes a headscarf if hair wasn’t pulled tautly into a bun at the base of one’s neck were a few things to name the least. You always wore the headscarf, which was a thin piece of grey lace that attached at the peak of your hairline, cascading over your shoulders to land at waist-length.

The rest of the day passed slowly. You learned the ins and outs of the castle, became acquainted with the sparse staff that only consisted of women, and met Alcina’s daughters from a distance. The next two weeks passed the same way.

Wake up, clean the castle, serve Lady and her daughters, go to bed. That was your routine. Though, the sounds that seeped from the halls at night prompted unwavering curiosity. Heisenberg had mentioned the ill-fated maids that had the luxury of serving the Dimitrescu women back in that church. Nothing at this point had you doubting that was the case. But you assured yourself daily that you would not accept the castle’s fate; you would get out of here one way or another.

You had only been at the mercy of Lady Dimitrescu once to this day. A small spat broke out between maids and the arrival of the head of house had the women squealing lies of how you were the one to start it.

“She stole our rations!” The girl with the wide nose accused her chubby finger outstretched in your direction.

“I didn’t steal anything, you dirty fucking liar.”

“She did. We were squabbling over how she should be punished.” The other girl replied, tucking a shaking hand behind her back as she straightened her poor posture.

“A thief,” Alcina regarded you, “that’s a shame.” Knives skid across the thin skin of your forearm. “Another outburst like this and there will be harsher consequences.” Red stained her tongue as she ran the claw through her cherry-red lips.

As she sauntered down the hall and out of sight, you uncurled your arm from your chest, wincing at the large crimson stain it left on your dress.

“Fresh face.” The words ricocheted off the wall in front of you. Footsteps steadfastly approached from behind. He walked with an effortless swagger, legs slightly bowed with each lyrical step. You’d gone for the quiet route after the situation, finding that silence often pleased those that ruled over the castle. “Here I was thinkin’ it would take you a little longer to lose that fight.” He stepped closer; the unmissable smell of tobacco seeped from his lips. “Looks like I was wrong.”

Instead of words, you held his gaze through unimpressed eyes. Hues of yellows, greys, and greens met yours from beneath his rounded glasses. You could see more of him from here. A large scar ran from the right of his face to the left, the lifted skin healing over leaving memories of whatever had happened. In fact, the majority of his face was plagued with scars. One ran from the bottom of his lip down to his chin, disappearing beneath the stubble of his beard. You wondered if his disdain toward Alcina was founded by those wretched claws of hers. His hair was wirey with shades of brown and peppered grey streaking through the ends. Quite honestly, he was an attractive man.

“I’ve got a name, you know?”

“I don’t think I cared to ask.”

“Then I suppose you aren’t deserving of one either.”

“Well,” he tapped at your chest with a gloved finger, “I think you’ve got a little spunk left in you, sweetheart.”

“Call me Y/n.”

“No last name?” He deadpanned.

“L/n.”

He nodded, but you felt as though your words had passed through him like a ghost.

“Karl.” He gave a lazy bow, tilting the rim of his hat. “But I think you probably already knew that.”

“Gossip and information don’t come easily from the maids here. Sorry,” you pressed your lips together, “I didn’t know.”

Karl gave a shrug.

“Do you know what happened to my friend?” The thought had been playing on your mind for the past few weeks.

He raised an inquisitive brow and turned his head to peer out the shaded window. “The so-called friend that left you to become lycan chow?” A hearty tut left his chest. “I think she’s assimilated into the town.”

“Dumb bitch.” You breathed.

“There’s that spark.” He stood tall with an artificial sense of pride. It had been a long time since somebody in the village was willing to use such crude language in front of any of the Lords, let alone Miranda. It almost astonished him that they’d let you live after the killing of Adelina’s brother. The gun misfired; it wasn’t really your fault.

Another week of growing suspicions and two newly missing maids, you finally attempted to seek out the dungeons that everyone spoke of but warned to stray from. You had to know what was going on here.

“Lost?” Heisenberg’s voice appeared at your right side. His chin almost rested upon your shoulder; the stubble of his beard scratched at your neck. “This isn’t a place I’d get lost in if I were you. In fact, it’s not even a place you should be exploring.”

“Are you going to run to Alcina if I do?” You didn’t face him, why would you? The hallway was cramped, restricting of any sort of movement other than in the direction you were going.

“Me?” He leaned backward to stand at full height. Your body cursed silently, wishing nothing more than to have him close again. How he wasn’t hitting his head on the rafter just inches above floored you. “I hate that bitch. You do what you want, but I won’t bail you out when you get caught.”

“Good thing I don’t plan on being caught then.” You descended the metal ladder, only looking upward for a moment to catch a glimpse of Heisenberg leaning over the opening. An eerie smile was plastered on his lips, it was almost smug.

The dungeons were as you imagined. Cold water trickled down some of the walls, likely due to cracks in the castle’s foundation accompanied by the ever melting of the outside snow. It smelled of mothballs and garlic, something musty was clinging to the air. You noted a few turns here and there, attempting to memorize the path you had taken in case you needed to make a swift escape. What didn’t help was the skid of your maid’s clothes along the rigid floor.

Muffled cries put you further onto the edge. The narrow hall gave way to a large room filled with arched stonework. Metal bars shot from floor to ceiling, hinges creaked as the sound of hands banging against them filled your eardrums. You didn’t want to go further, scared of any repercussions should any of the jailed women recognize and rat you out.

Turning to head to the ladder, you collided with a chest. “Leaving so soon?” Heisenberg again.

“Shh!” You slapped at his chest with a closed fist, only realizing what you had done when the action was completed. He looked rightfully amused. Everything that you had learned of these “Lords” up to now told you to act less casually with him, to put on an air of respect at the very least. But there was something surprisingly human about him. Something that told you it was okay despite it potentially not being so. At this point, you were only prolonging the inevitable.

“What?” He started, swiftly being cut off by approaching footsteps. Firm hands grasped at your arms, pulling your face forward into his chest. “Open your mouth and I’ll feed you to whatever’s coming.” He said through his teeth, trapping your arms between your two bodies.

The room grew dim, the wall behind your back became close even though you had not moved at all. Heisenberg’s grip was strong on your forearms, causing you to inaudibly hiss as his thumb dug into the slash Alcina had left weeks prior. The footsteps were accompanied by the soft cries of a woman, gasping pleas of being let go falling silent on the ears of her assailant. A minute passed; the dungeon fell soundless.

“You can breathe now.” His lips lingered close to your ear, once again sending a rush of chills crawling down your skin. He knew what he was doing.

“I’ve been breathing.” You breathily retorted sounding as if you had just run a marathon.

“Whatever you say, doll.”

The wall behind you gave way, moving on its own. You turned; the materials that had been pressed to your back laid themselves on the ground. Heisenberg’s smile was unmissable. “Go ahead.” His voice was gravely, gruff, a slight melancholy dismay underlying. Heisenberg desired for you to implore what just happened, but you wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. You refused to see him as anything but normal, for if you did give in to the village’s mental games, you’d likely find yourself going mad. He was a man, you told yourself, nothing more.

“I thought you weren’t going to bail me out?”

“I wasn’t.” He tightened his grip on your arms. “But I figured it’d be a shame to lose such a pretty face so soon.”

“I, I’m sure you say that to all the girls here.” You couldn’t hold his gaze at this distance. Perhaps Adelina was right, you were rather frumpy and unexperienced.

A huff came as he exhaled, a thoughtful tug of his lips upward accompanied it. He didn’t answer, a reoccurring event with those who inhabited this town.

Heisenberg had been keeping his trips to and from the castle a secret. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure why he felt so inclined to bother with the outsider woman who appeared in the village one fateful evening. Perhaps he was growing bored of his daily routine with no results to show. Maybe he was enticed by the well of knowledge you held of the outside world. Maybe it was something else, something human. The Lord’s weren’t allowed to stray far from the village. The other three lived delightfully oblivious, completely okay with never exploring the unknown. Heisenberg, on the other hand, was not. Your friend, Jess as he recalled you calling her, was far from interesting to him. It didn’t take a genius to tell how low her I.Q. had to be. She conformed easily to the village and by all accounts had been down talking you to the others she met. She quickly fell into the same brainwashed daze of worship.

It had been another turbulent week of utter chaos around every corner. Nobody knew of your adventure into the depths of Castle Dimitrescu and you had no intentions of spreading any gossip among the maids. They all seemed to have it out for you anyway. You were the “outsider,” as one described it. It was so blatantly evident to them that you were not going to conform to their ways. And that disturbed them.

It wasn’t that you hadn’t your fair share of punishment to this point. In actuality, you had received a significantly greater amount of beratements and surface wounds from Alcina and her daughters. You thought to Heisenberg often, continually wondering how your life would differ had Miranda bestowed you upon him. He was irresistibly charming in his own twisted sense. Every word that escaped his mouth heavily contradicted his actions. You received a good number of swats to the hand stemming from woeful daydreaming of the man you hardly knew.

He could be dangerous, you’d tell yourself before slipping into yet another sequence of fervent and unrelenting thoughts stemming from the mysterious man. He was a Lord, one placed in a top position according to the village’s hierarchy. You just weren’t sure why.

There had been countless times the man had sauntered into the castle, “accidentally” run into you, and held brief conversation.

The other maids were assholes. Though you had concluded this swiftly upon entering the castle, their recent actions only solidified your feelings.

It had been only a day since Heisenberg’s last visit. He strolled into the castle, easing his way past the maids as they hurriedly passed by. They paid him no mind. The evening sun had begun to set in the sky. Lady Dimitrescu had gone out for the night, instructing her girls to hold down the castle while she was away. The three of them had descended into the dungeons, not to be seen again until morning. This left the halls free and roamable for the savvy Lord.

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” Your voice caught his attention. “Oh, shut the fuck up, Marybeth.”

Shrill voices argued back and forth behind the kitchen doors. The sound of muffled giggles fell on his ears; it was an unusual sound within the castle walls. The girls must be relaxed knowing they’re safe from punishment tonight. At least, that’s what they thought.

In a second, the hinges of the door burst off, sending the heavy frame crashing down to the tiled floor. Shrieks came quickly and died on their lips as soon as the girls realized who was there.

“Lord Heisenberg.” One woman bowed her head, concealing something within her hands as she placed them in her lap, clasped tightly together. “Lady Dimitrescu has left for the evening.”

“I know.” His brow raised at the scene set before him. You stood to the rear of the kitchen, clearly irate at something the woman who regarded him had done. Five other women were huddled with the one who spoke, following her lead and averting their gazes. No aroma of cuisine drifted from the empty cauldron, only the stale scent of curing meats clung to the air.

“What’s going on in here?” He looked directly at you from beneath the lid of his hat.

“We were cleaning the kitchen.” The maid spoke through shaking breaths.

After a pensive moment, he waved his hand. “You’re dismissed. Except,” he held his hand at your chest as you attempted to pass, “you.”

The girls stumbled over the door, making quick work of getting back to their quarters and away from the Lord. You listened as the audience of feet trampled away. None of the girls here knew how to walk in heels causing for a rather elephant-like clomping of shoes wherever they went.

“What really happened?”

“Do you care?”

“Not particularly, but color me curious.”

“Don’t get them in trouble.” You demanded through gritted teeth. “I don’t want to deal with the aftermath.”

He chortled. “You seem more afraid of them than you are of me.”

“You’ve not given me a reason to be scared.”

Your back pressed to the wall, a glass chalice fell, shattering against the floor. The lapels of his jacket and dog tags pushed to your chest were still cold from the frosted night air. “Do I need to give you a reason?”

“I just,” embarrassment rose in your cheeks, “would you stop doing this?” There was no budging the man. His strength far outweighed yours, easily acting as if your pushing against his chest was nothing but a soft breeze.

“Doing what?” A smirk grew on his lips. God, he loved this.

“This!” Your clenched fist banged on his chest, not rattling him in the slightest. Droplets of claret liquid ran from your palm to your elbow. “Dammit, Karl. Move.”

The use of his first name was new. A solid hand closed around your wrist, bringing it up to eye level. He tilted back, adjusting his vision. The raise of his brow signaled that he wanted you to open your hand. Complying, you cringed as the reddened skin screamed for relief.

“They did this?”

“It’s no different from the other injuries I’ve gotten here.”

“It’s deep.” He reached into the pocket of his trench coat. “Don’t let anyone know you’ve got this.” A silver tin slipped from his hand to yours, you pried at its ridges with your nail.

Heisenberg disappeared after that, taking off with a dramatic throw of the castle doors as he disappeared into the dense forest. He had given you a tin of salve and a bandage.

“Lady Dimitrescu has requested your presence.”

The Fugitive: Finding Home Part 3 - Foreign Thoughts

I'm so excited for where this fic is going...

Feedback is always appreciated

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#karl heisenberg #heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg x you #heisenberg #re8 #re8 heisenberg #Resident Evil Village #resident evil heisenberg #lord heisenberg #resident evil 8 #re8 imagines

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mxpseudonym · 4 years

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Pairing: Tommy x Fem!Reader

Summary: Polly Shelby wants you, a shy, single, slightly anxious churchgoer, to meet her nephew, the dangerous gangster Tommy Shelby. He’s more than gentlemanly at first glance, which only adds to his attractive charm. After weeks of being on edge and going no farther than heavy petting, you finally decide to push for having Tommy devour you. However, entering the bedroom with Tommy Shelby means you’ll have to follow his saucy rules. Agreeing requires a verbal, enthusiastic, “Yes, Sir” and leaving your shame at the door.

Length: 2738 words (allegedly)

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, lite Dom/sub, Consensual as all hell

A/N: Sorry I’m late, but honestly that’s very me so. Anyway, hope you’re ready because I am y/n, you are y/n, we are all y/n this time round. 😏

"Need some help?"

You looked up from where you were kneeling on the floor to see none other than Polly Shelby. You'd pulled your rosary too tight again, and the thread snapped from the tension. Now, before you could stop her, Polly was kneeling and helping you pick them up.

Polly was always kind to you. When needed, she shared her hymn book and complimented your church hats that matched your dresses particularly well. Even though you never had much to say, she was always casually chatting with you.

"You're not seeing anyone, are you?" Polly asked, catching you off guard. Was this why she was so lovely? Two women in an empty church, and one of them confesses to the other. What would God say?

"I'm not."

"You should meet my nephew, Thomas. I think you'd make quite the pair."

You smiled at the invitation. It wasn't out of flattery, per se, but more because you knew it must have been difficult for Polly to be an aunt taking on her duty as a familial matchmaker when her nephews ran the most dangerous gang in Small Health. Polly didn't seem like the type to let anything happen to you if things didn't work out on a simple date, and you felt indebted to her for being such a good friend to you. So you nodded.

"Well, if he asked me to dinner, I'm sure I wouldn't say no."

You didn't think much of it, quite frankly. In the year that you'd been in Small Heath, you'd turned down enough dinner invitations to be thought of as a godly woman and a prude. Not that you minded. You were single and childless in the newly bustling city of Birmingham, and living alone for the first time in your life was a luxury you didn't want to give up. You had your mother's pistol tucked in your bag and a vague idea of how to shoot it, so you were safe enough, but the added rumor that you were unapproachable was helpful.

If anything, what surprised you most was Thomas Shelby actually showing up to church that Sunday. Even leaning against the stone wall outside with a cigarette in hand was enough to cause a stir as the congregation poured out of the church.

He was a handsome man, and his cool, certain eyes seemed to see right through you. Even with your heart thumping in your chest, gravitating towards him was only natural. He was waiting for you, after all.

"Y/n L/n?" He asked, his voice deep and telling of his : upbringing. It fit him well, you thought as you looked at him from under your sun hat.

"Mr. Shelby," you said with a nod.

"My aunt seemingly won't rest until I ask you to dinner," he said, dipping a hand into his pocket to reach for more cigarettes.

"Oh? Is this you doing it?"

Tommy's head tilted at you as he took in your smile and looked you over. You were already a bit bold for someone who was meeting a hoodlum. A smirk crept onto his face. He wasn't complaining.

"Ms. l/n, would you have dinner with me?" He asked. You paused, causing him to sigh and pull out his cigarettes. "My aunt promised I wouldn't get rejected by a beautiful woman if I got the courage to ask. Now I'm embarrassed."

"I'm sure you're not," you said, laughing to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. "But I will go to dinner with you, Mr. Shelby. I did promise Miss Shelby." Tommy looked you over again before nodding.

"I look forward to it."

.:.

When Tuesday evening rolled around, Tommy was at your doorstep in a fine suit. If you had any doubt about your long, beaded dress being nice enough, Tommy pushed the thoughts away in an instant.

"You look stunning, Miss l/n," he praised you while holding out his arm.

"Thank you, Tommy. You look very handsome tonight as well."

There was an air of authority about him, yet his gaze was soft when he met your eyes and smiled. The car ride was comfortable enough and did nothing to prepare you for the exquisite venue. The ceilings were high, and the decor was elegant.

"It's my job to find a venue a quarter as lovely as the woman accompanying me, isn't it," Tommy said when you mentioned that it was possibly too fancy for you.

"Oh please," you murmured, waving away the compliment.

At some point throughout the night, you wondered if you'd been on a better date. Tommy took care of everything, from directing the butlers in their penguin suits to ordering things he seemed to know you'd like. ON your own, you'd have spent half an hour choosing a meal, and god only knew how long getting a server's attention. But tonight, you were left to focus on his witty storytelling that left you laughing behind your napkin. Tommy raised a hand and grasped yours. It was a small amount of contact but, perhaps the wine or the man himself made you want more of his warmth. All too soon, he gently pulled your hand down and into your lap.

"Don't hide. I want to hear more from you," Tommy said. Your cheeks flashed hot as your mind took a naughty detour for a moment.

"Okay, Tommy."

It was after dinner that truly hooked you to the man. He wrapped you in his jacket before helping you into his car and driving you home. His hand rested on your knee on the way back. Yet, when he stood in front of your door, you were greeted with a hug. You didn't realize it until you leaned into his embrace that you were a bit anxious about a goodnight kiss or even Tommy pushing his way into your apartment. Gangster or not, he was a strong man with a domineering personality. He could have anything he wanted. You hadn't guessed that meant a simple hug and a request for a second date. Still, it left you smiling as you watched his car drive away from the entrance of your apartment.

.:.

"Ah, this is favorite."

"Really?"

"Winston Churchill himself recommended it."

You turned to Tommy with a skeptical eye.

"Liar."

"How could I find the strength to lie to you, y/n?"

You rolled your eyes but turned back to the new gramophone in front of you. You had several dates with Tommy, and his gentlemanly behavior only continued. He never tried anything scandalous or forward, even as he managed to charm you to high heaven. There were times you wondered if, and perhaps even secretly hoped for, Tommy would move his hand up your thigh or kiss your neck. But it seemed that every date was an opportunity for him to learn more about you. He was more perceptive than you knew. He understood what you wanted and even made you feel like he could read your mind sometimes.

You'd had partners before, even an adulterous ex-fiance, but with them, it felt like they were trying to learn your secrets to use against you. With Tommy, it seemed like he used that information to make you happy. Your eyes lit up when he brought you your favorite kind of pastry and a new scarf in your favorite color.

His latest gift was the record player, and you shamelessly used the gift of music as an excuse to finally invite Tommy inside after a month of dating when it was clear he wouldn't do it himself.

"You're quite the gentleman, Mr. Shelby," you mused as you slow danced in your living room. Tommy's hand flattened over your spine and pulled you closer.

"I'd say you're bringing out the best in me yet, Ms. y/l/n."

He leaned forward and pressed his lips gently against yours. You moaned softly against his lips as your swaying left the rhythm of the song to match you and Tommy. There was a hunger in his kiss that made you wonder just how much he was holding back. He could have any woman he wanted, you thought, but he was patiently kissing you to your liking and no more. His hand moved to thumb the buttons on your dress, and you pulled away gently. A guiding hand on your lower back or a calloused hand helping you out of the Bentley made your heart flutter, yet you still hesitated to take things further.

"Wait, Tommy."

"Hm?"

"Not yet," you said shyly, not able to look him in the eyes. Tommy smirked at you. Little did you know, this confirmed several things he knew about you.

"Good girl."

Your eyes shot up to his in shock. What was this? His choice of words, his praise, the feeling of your insides warming all filled you with a sense of wonder. There was something in his eyes that looked satisfied and almost like an invitation. Would you accept? Accept what exactly?

Not knowing the question or your answer, you kissed him again.

.:.

Good girl.

Those two words were planted in your mind like seeds meant to sprout a specific restlessness.

You thought about it passively for a while. At first, you wondered if you should be upset. Was Tommy treating you like a child? But nothing he did ever made it feel that way. If anything, Tommy was the one person who treated you most like a woman. After a few weeks, you began to think of it too often. On your lunches with Tommy or when he took you to the horse races, you wondered if he'd repeat it. You were eager to hear him say it.

When you thought about it alone in the bath, you realized you couldn't hold it together much longer. Your eyes fluttered closed as you remembered that night. But memories turned to fantasy, and you could feel his breath against your ear.

"Good girl. You're a good girl, y/n."

Your hands moved before you could think much about it. It had been a while since you'd done this, sliding a delicate finger between your legs.

"Good girl," you whispered, your voice echoing off the walls and sending the praise back to you. You swirled your clit and repeated it again. Thinking of all the ways Tommy had touched you, even innocently, remembering the feeling and that casual smirk he wore. "Tommy, fuck, yes, I'm a good girl- ah!"

Your thighs squeezed your hand as your hips jerked with a strong release. Your eyes opened, and you stared at the ceiling.

"This is getting ridiculous."

.:.

Tommy was just a little too good at listening to you, you decided. Anything you told him not to do was met with praise, and he'd never do it again. You'd expected, based on past experiences with men, that Tommy would try to push you until you were just where he wanted you. Instead, you were the one spacing out during dinner while admiring how good he looked in his suit. Would you prefer it on or off if he were devouring you?

Tommy asked if you felt alright, which made you ashamed to even think the way you were. When did you get so lewd? It was in your apartment that Tommy let you know he knew exactly what you were thinking. You sat next to him on your couch, handing him a nightcap of brandy.

"Y/n, you know that I care about you, don't you?"

"Yes, of course." You nodded quickly. Was this actually the end of things? You hoped not.

"I care about you more than I thought I could. And one of those reasons is because you know what you want," said Tommy as he sat his glass down.

Your brows furrowed at the words. You thought you were indecisive and unable to speak up. If only Tommy knew how you'd been suffering. He continued after reading the confusion on your face.

"Whenever we come back here, you know how far you want to go, and you know when to make a man like me stop."

"Oh,"

"I won't push you, love. I'm as patient as ever, so if you want more or less, that's up to you. It's whatever you'd like."

Tommy leaned over and placed a hand on your knee reassuringly, though it only helped your heart beat harder. You shifted in your seat, uneasy with the amount of power you realized you had.

"I see."

"If we do go further, I'd like to implement a few rules. How does that sound?"

"Rules?" You tilted your head. You liked rules and systems. Even as a coat check girl, you were known for your orderly approach to things.

"Yes, if you decide that's something you want to explore, we'll talk then. But no need to worry about it until you're ready."

"I actually wanted to talk to you about doing more," you said bashfully, though it was a lie. You'd planned to simply move Tommy's hand under your skirt and have him put you out of your misery.

"Come here, y/n."

Tommy brought you to sit on his lap. His hand caressed your thigh, and the other was around your waist. Your arms wrapped around him as your reveled in the feeling of safety.

"Alright, Mr. Shelby, what are they?"

"I'm going to tell you them, and you need to remember the order, alright?" He asked, and you nodded, only to have him tsk you. "Ah, love, when I ask you a question, I want to hear your voice. I want to make sure you're sure. That's rule number one: everything we do requires a verbal agreement. Try it now."

"Oh, then, yes. I'll remember the order, Tommy."

"Good girl," he praised, making you smile softly. "Rule number two is that you can't cum until I tell you, alright sweetheart?"

"Tommy!" You jolted in surprise. You didn't know what you thought he was going to say, but that was not it. He chuckled at your reaction and squeezed your waist. He would have stopped if you asked, but for now, he was well aware that you were already starting to squirm in his lap. His sweetheart liked being a little flustered, didn't you?

"Rule number three is that I am in charge of your body. I have full access to it, and you, love," Tommy reached up and tilted your chin so he could give you a saccharine kiss, "you may not touch yourself unless I say."

The mix of salacious words and tender caresses sent waves of desire straight to the apex of your thighs. Could Tommy tell that you'd been doing just that?

"Rule four is that you have to tell me when you don't like something. You do that so well already, and I'm proud of you for that."

"T-thank you," you murmured. You couldn't help but bite your lip. Such simple words of praise were sending you into a mild frenzy.

"When you want me to stop, just say 'no more, I'm satisfied.' Can you do that?" He asked you, and you nodded. This time, however, you quickly remembered what Tommy told you before.

"Yes. No more. I'm satisfied," you repeated the phrase while wondering when you'd use it.

"You can say that for anything at all. If you're uncomfortable, or even just a little too tired."

"Okay."

You nodded in agreement, though you couldn't help be feel nervous. After weeks of nothing more than a mild groping hand, Tommy was proving to be this person? But maybe it was the way that you couldn't stop yourself from squirming, trying to press your legs together for some type of friction that made you equally excited. Tommy kissed you again and held your chin.

"Sweetheart, I promise that I'll use these to make you feel really good. I hope you can trust me, and I trust you to use that voice of yours and tell me when you don't like something, yes?"

"Yes."

"Do you agree then? Do those rules sound good to you?" He asked you directly.

"Yes," you nodded, then softly adjusted. Something in you made you want to add, "Yes, Sir."

Tommy squeezed your thigh, and you looked to his eyes to see a burning fierceness in them. He really enjoyed that. It was nice knowing he wasn't embarrassing you. You were in this together.

"Good girl."

#As You Please Series #Tommy Shelby #tommy shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby Smut #Dom!Tommy #Tommy Shelby Imagine #spicy writing

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angelmavmurdock · 3 years

Text

Our Little Secret: Part Six - A.R.

Word count: 5976 Summary: After Lenora’s funeral, Arvin learns some news about her. Y/n and Arvin have sex for the first time and ends up being way past her curfew...

WARNINGS: SMUT, FINGERING, DIRTY TALK (mild), READER'S FIRST TIME

I attended Lenora's funeral as her best friend.

No one knew about Arvin and I and we were keeping it for a different reason now. Not in case Lenora found out but to keep everyone else sane in this crazy time.

I had taken a week off school, helping the Russell's around the house with cooking, cleaning and some company. Emma was absolutely distraught, only coming out of bed when she needed the bathroom or needed to eat - even then it wasn't promised.

Ma was so busy with helping Daddy while I was busy helping the Russell's, we hardly got to see each other. But we both knew after the funeral things would calm down.

Arvin was handling his sister's death strangely. He wasn't sad. He didn't cry. He would go out on car rides, asking to be alone a lot of the time. I didn't know what he was doing and to be honest, I didn't want to know.

At night, once Earskell had went to bed and well after Emma had went to bed, we'd stay up, sitting outside on the patio in the old rocking chairs with some tea and listen to the radio quietly humming in the background. We wouldn't really speak much. We'd just be in each other's presence. We'd kiss. Then I'd go home.

But today was her funeral. I had a standard funeral outfit on: a black dress with tights and patent shoes with a black ribbon in my hair. I had been crying all day so my tears stained my cheeks and my eyes were red and puffy.

Emma was much the same as me while Arvin was trying to be strong for us, only a few tears leaving his eyes during the ceremony. He held me close to him, his hand just above the curve of my waist to not draw attention to us. We stood by together as Emma cried over her casket.

"Oh Lord, there's just some things we can't understand..."

She cried, kneeling to the floor and caressing the wood with her soft hands.

"But you take her into your arms..." She had to stop speaking because of her sobs.

I watched, tears falling from my face and I looked up at Arvin, rubbing my hand over his back softly. He stared numbly at the casket, only the ever-so-often squeeze of my waist indicating he was okay.

"Now I ain't somebody for sayin' prayers or..." Earskell talked, coughing and then clenching his jaw.

Arvin looked over to his Uncle and then removed his arm from around me, leaving me feeling cold without him. He slightly bent over and helped Emma to her feet, holding her by her arm and then wrapping his other arm back around me, this time on my waist.

"Let's go home." I said in almost a whisper.

Emma and everyone else nodded. I pulled away from Arvin and when he looked at me I looked back as if to say it was okay. He nodded slightly and helped his Grandma to the truck. I followed loosely behind the three of them, giving them some space to be with each other in the fresh air.

As I walked behind them through the grave yard I thought about everything.

What did she have to tell me? What happened with the preacher? Why was she so ashamed? Why did she want to end her own life?...

There were too many questions and none of them I could answer. I was supposed to be her best friend and I felt like I had let her down. I had let her down.

***

"I think it'll be real good if you went out for a night, Emma." I sighed, sitting next to her on her bed.

It had been a few days since the funeral and she was still lying in bed, only getting up for the bare minimum. Even for food she wasn't getting up for, which I was cooking each night.

"I don't have the energy, y/n." She croaked.

"I think you need a bath. And a nice new dress. And your hair did and your friends around you. There's a church day out at the beach on Saturday. I think you should go." I said with a smile.

She laughed lightly, "Honey, I hardly have five dollars to put together, how am I supposed to buy a new dress and get my hair done?"

A grin grew on my face, "Luckily I am here to help with that."

***

Saturday rolled around and I showed up early morning with two new dresses for Emma. She had gotten her hair done the day before and she was feeling a lot better. She showered and I met her in her room when she came out. I lay the two dresses on the bed and she looked in confusion.

"Pick your favourite and I'll see you in the living room." I smiled simply then left her room, closing the door behind me.

I waited in the living room with Arvin who was reading the newspaper, a cigarette bouncing between his lips and an ash tray.

"Ma asked for me to be home at 9 tonight." I said with a sigh.

Arvin looked up from the paper, "Really? That early?"

"Yeah. She does not like you." I groaned.

"Damn...I'm guessin' there's not much I can do about that, huh?"

"Not really...don't you have work today?" I asked.

"Only a small shift. Just gettin' back into it after the accident and then obviously..." He gulped.

"I know...well that'll be good." I smiled.

"Yeah."

"I'm ready!" Emma called from her bedroom.

"Come on out!" I beamed, getting up from the couch.

She clicked down the hallway in her red kitten heels. I gasped with delight. She chose the poppy patterned dress that flowed lightly below her knees. It fit her perfectly. A silver cross hung over her clavicle and her hair was pinned up nicely.

"Emma Russell, you look absolutely divine!" I grinned.

She blushed, "Really? I do love this dress, I can't thank you enough y/n."

"It's no problem at all. I'm just glad you're feelin' better and havin' fun. You deserve it."

She took a deep breath and smiled, "Thanks, darlin'."

Arvin got up to drive her to the church and he complimented her with an embrace.

"I'll be back around 11pm. It's late but the girls are all hitchin' rides with the men after their poker."

"Well I'll be gone by 9 so I'll see you tomorrow? I hope you have fun, Emma." I hummed, hugging her tightly.

"Thank you so much. Have fun!" She waved as Arvin opened the door for her.

We both watched as she and Earskell talked, going to the truck. Arvin closed the door slightly, leaning forward to me.

I giggled and cupped his face, bringing his lips to mine. It was soft but meaningful. His hands lightly touched my waist before we both pulled away.

"Have a good day at work and drive safe, alright?" I said.

"Thanks, y/n. I'll see you later. Bye." He flashed me a smile before leaving the house.

And I was left for nearly a whole day by myself.

***

Arvin's POV

The working truck pulled up to the car park outside. I jumped off the end along with everyone else and we said our goodbyes. As I headed to the truck I saw an officer standing by, looking at me.

"Need to have a word with you, Arvin." He announced.

"About what?" I asked, standing a few yards from him.

"It's uh...it's about Lenora." He spoke awkwardly.

I took a deep breath and looked away for a second, "What about her?"

"I came by here instead of home so nothin's put on your grandmother-"

"Put on her? What do you mean?" I asked.

The officer removed his uniform hat which is never a good sign. He seemed awkward. He seemed nervous.

"Y'know old Dudley in the coroners? He's a drunk but...he ain't no liar."

I looked at him with a stern look, masking the fact that my stomach was flipping inside.

"Did you know Lenora was carryin' a baby?" He asked.

I tilted my head slightly, my eyes on his. This seemed real. But it couldn't be.

I continued staring at him, hoping he'd crack.

"That's bullshit. That son of a bitch is lyin'." I clenched my jaw.

"Dudley ain't a liar. He came to me privately so as your family knew...I felt he was right." The officer nodded.

I averted eye contact, feeling myself tear up. No, no, no, no, no.

"I might've put my foot in somethin' but that wasn't my intention."

He fiddled with his dark green fedora, uncomfortable with the conversation and uncomfortable with the fact he had to tell me.

"You know that preacher ain't said no words for her? Not for people that kill themselves." I shook my head and clenched my jaw.

That son of a bitch.

***

I drove home in anger and confusion. When I pulled up, I saw y/n outside on one of the rocking chairs, a mug in her hand and a blanket wrapped around her.

My mood lifted almost automatically. She looked gorgeous in the dim sunlight. I remembered the house was empty and I was happy in that y/n and I could spend time together alone but then again, Lenora wasn't there.

I walked tiredly up the steps and she sat her mug down with a pout of her plump lips.

"Hey, you okay?" She asked me, standing up.

I didn't say anything.

"Arvin?" She prompted.

I looked up at her.

"How was work?" She asked, trying to pry something from me.

"It was fine." I shrugged, walking back to lean against the post.

She bit her lip, "Is somethin' botherin' you?"

She knew me too well.

"A uh...a police officer stopped me before goin' home." I said, retrieving a cigarette from my pocket and lighting it.

"What? Why?" She asked, arms folding as she leaned against the opposite post.

I chuckled. It wasn't to be annoying. It was in anger and confusion and disbelief.

"He told me that Lenora - my innocent, God-loving, 17-year-old sister - was pregnant before she died." I stated.

She blinked at me like a deer in headlights. She didn't speak for a few seconds, her brain working to log the information properly.

"She uh...she was p-pregnant? No." She shook her head.

"Well she was." I took a puff.

"What the hell? How did I not know?" She pressed a hand to her chest.

"Don't get mad at me I'm just repeatin' what he said!"

"I'm not mad! I'm just...she was pregnant?"

I licked my lips and nodded.

She chewed her lip in thought, wrinkles forming between her eyebrows.

"I don't believe it. That's bullshit."

"That's what I said. But, apparently some guy down at the coroner's said that she was. And apparently, he don't lie." I said.

She shook her head, "Who...who was the father? Cause he'll be out there right now runnin' free!" She exclaimed.

"I don't know. I have an idea but I don't know." I licked my back teeth.

I couldn't tell her about the preacher. She clearly didn't know and I wasn't about to tell her. Because if I told her I would have to explain how I knew and stalking some guy doesn't seem like the best thing to say.

"Well that is just...wow." She rubbed her face.

"I know."

We both went silent, our heads filled with thought and worry and confusion. How could neither of us had known?

"Are you gonna tell your Grandma?" She asked.

"No. No, I'm not." I dropped the cigarette butt and stood on it.

"I think it would set her back." She agreed.

"Exactly. She don't need that right now, she's at a good place."

y/n nodded, agreeing with me. I sighed and took my hat off, running a hand through my hair. y/n walked towards me with her arms outstretched. I smiled and welcomed her. Her arms wrapped around me tightly, her chest pressed against mine. I leaned my head on top of hers and stroked her back softly.

"We didn't get to tell Lenora." She whispered.

I gulped, "I know..."

"Well if heaven is real then she'll be lookin' down at us thinkin': I told you so."

We both chuckled at the thought. But it was slightly uncomfortable to think of her that way. Dead. In heaven. I didn't like it.

"Hey," She chirped from underneath me.

I moved my head and looked at her. She reached her hands up and wrapped them around my neck.

"You were such a good big brother." She stated.

An immediate lump in my throat formed at her words. Not if you knew the things I had done or what I was planning to do...

"And you're an amazin' person, Arv. You really are." She smiled.

I just smiled weakly at her.

"And I know you feel like you have to be strong all the time but with me...with me you don't have to." She whispered, trailing her hands down then up my chest.

Reader's POV

He stared down at me with a sudden look of lust and hunger. Before I knew it, I was being pushed back against the post, gasping as the wood hit my back. Arvin kissed me ferociously, his tongue pushing into my mouth without missing a beat. I moaned in surprised but sunk into him, getting the fast-paced rhythm he was implementing.

He moved his kisses to my neck and he began to kiss and suck on my sweet spot.

"Arvin," I moaned breathlessly, tugging his hair slightly.

His hands slid down my dress and grabbed my ass through the fabric as his mouth worked on my skin.

"Feels so good." I hummed.

His lips came back up to mine and our tongues worked with each other's, pushing and swirling in some sort of dance. It was passionate and hot and I felt like I needed more of him.

Suddenly his hands roamed further to my thighs and swiftly lifted me up. I gasped as my legs locked around his torso effortlessly. He smirked up at my surprise and kissed me again. He blindly opened the door and it slammed shut behind us. He walked through while kissing me intensely.

And then I knew I was in his room. I had only been in once or twice for laundry but I knew it was his. He pushed me against the door, ultimately closing it. I moaned again and he moved his lips to my neck again.

"Want you, Arvin." I hummed.

He looked up at me with a glint of lust and hope in his eyes.

"You sure?" He asked.

"I need you." I whispered.

That was enough for him.

He brought me off the wall and to his bed, lying me carefully on his sheets, getting on top of me.

He kept kissing me, his hands beginning to lift my dress up. I sat up and allowed him to slide it off my body. Thankfully I was wearing nicer underwear this time. He threw my dress to the side and looked down at my body in awe.

He stood up from the bed, eyes burning through my skin as he started to undo his buttons on his shirt.

I felt a colour rise to my cheeks. He was seeing me in my underwear. No guy had ever seen me in my underwear before.

"You are fuckin' unreal, darlin'." He complimented, his eyes shining with adoration.

I bit my lip, "You're makin' me nervous standin' like that."

He removed his shirt and then pulled off his dirty white t-shirt from underneath. I had seen his chest before but his bruises were nearly healed and he looked even better than before. Probably since he'd been working all day. He undid his belt and then slid down his trousers, stepping out of them.

My jaw dropped. Arvin. In. His. Underwear.

"Whatcha starin' at?" He smirked.

I gulped then looked back up at him, "Nothin' much."

He shook his head and leaped on top of me. I squealed before he kissed me.

"You're a minx, that's what you are." He chuckled against my lips.

"Well then teach me how to be good." I whispered.

He pulled away, looking down at me with his dilated brown eyes, almost completely black with passion.

"Fuck, I want to."

He began to slide his hand down my body, making rest stops at my waist and my hip before teasing the waistband of my pants. I gasped and looked up at him in lust.

"Have you ever been touched before?" He asked lowly.

He slid his hand carefully into my panties. I arched my back and moaned lightly at his touch.

"N-no." I answered honestly.

His eyebrows furrowed for a split-second.

"You've never been touched before? When you look this pretty?" He quirked an eyebrow.

His fingers slowly circled on my clit, warming me up. I grasped his arm and bit my lip at the new feeling.

"Have you ever touched yourself before?"

My throat went dry.

"No." I answered again.

He smiled, "That's okay...but you've gotta tell me if you don't like what I'm doin', alright?" He asked.

I nodded with a hum.

He pulled my panties off and I felt completely exposed. Only my brasserie covered the last part of my modesty. But I felt safe with Arvin. I trusted him.

His hand returned back to my core where he continued rubbing circles on my clit. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the new-found pleasure.

"Already so wet, darlin'."

I whimpered at his filthy words and felt his finger slide down my core. He slowly pushed a finger into my entrance. I gasped and gripped his arm that rested beside my head, propping himself up.

He started moving it in and out, beginning to pick up a pace.

"How does that feel?" He asked.

"So- good." I hummed, eyes closed in pleasure.

He began to speed his finger up, curling it up to find my spot. I moaned, bucking my hips into his palm as if to say more.

He got the message and slipped a second finger in with ease. I moaned loudly as his fingers worked inside of me. His thumb grazed constantly over my clit and whatever he was doing was making my stomach flutter.

I could hear the sounds of my arousal and it added to the pleasure.

"So good for me, y/n. So good." He praised.

"Arvin!" I whined.

"What, angel?" He asked softly.

"I need you. Please." I practically humped his hand in desperation.

He smirked, "You sure you're ready?" He asked cautiously.

I nodded, "Please."

He removed his hand from me, leaving me a whimpering, pathetic mess. He slid his underwear off and my jaw dropped once again. His member was a lot bigger than I had anticipated. But to be honest, I had never seen one so I had nothing to compare it to. But my god.

He pumped himself in his hand as he got back onto the bed, kneeling between my legs. I sat up and removed my bra myself. I then took my hair out of the band and the ribbon, sitting them aside. I lay back down, attempting to make my hair look as nice as it could splayed out on the bedsheet.

"You're so fuckin' gorgeous. Can't wait to feel you." He groaned, getting on top of me.

I bit my lip and held his arm with one hand and gripped his hair with the other.

"You ready?" He asked.

I took a deep breath and nodded. He leaned down and encased my lips in a passionate but loving kiss, our lips moving slowly over each other's and our tongues swirling around perfectly. I got so distracted by the kiss that Arvin could easily slip half-way into me. I gasped at the feeling of him.

"Is that okay?" He checked, brushing some of my hair out of my face.

I nodded and hummed. He gave me a moment to adjust to his size. It was slightly uncomfortable but that soon went away when he pulled back then thrusted slowly into me again.

"Arvin," I moaned.

He lifted my thigh up to his side and pushed further into me. I tugged his hair and bit my lip.

"So fuckin' tight, fuck. Feel so good, darlin'." He panted.

"Please go faster." I whimpered.

He dipped his head into the crook of my neck and held my thigh firmly as he began thrusting into me. His pace sped up quickly and soon enough he was moving effortlessly into me.

"Feels so good!" I moaned, arching my back into his chest.

His lips came to my breasts, taking one nipple into his mouth. I gasped at the new feeling as his tongue lapped over my skin. His thrusts sped up and he completely bottomed me out, his skin slapping against mine with every push.

"Oh god!" I tugged on his hair.

He groaned, "So gorgeous, so hot - fuck."

I rolled my eyes back at his words.

In a Christian based Southern state, having premarital sex was looked down upon. But it didn't feel wrong. It felt so good.

"So tight around me," He commented lowly.

"Can we flip?" I asked breathlessly.

"'Course."

He smoothly flipped us, so he was on his back. I bit my lip and hovered over him, taking his member in my hand.

"Fuck." We both cursed in unison.

I pumped him in my hand a few times to see what it was like and how he reacted. He gripped my thigh tighter and bit his lip. I smirked, feeling a pang of power course through me.

I swiped his member on my folds, surprised at how wet I actually was. I slowly sank down on him and we both let out long groans as I bottomed him out.

"W-woah." I panted.

He sat up, shifting inside of me. I moaned a little at the movement. His arms wrapped around me and I held his shoulders. I kissed him deeply, running my hands up into his hair and his tongue explored my mouth like it never had before.

I started to move on him, up and down was my instinct. Apparently I was right.

"Fuck, darlin'." He cursed against my lips.

"Oh god." I moaned, gripping his broad shoulders for support.

He gathered my cascading hair and put it behind my back as I moved on top of him. For some reason it made emotions flow in my brain.

Love.

They way he cared for me and was gentle with me obviously set off an emotion I had never really felt before. Not romantically, anyway.

I looked into his dark eyes and stopped bouncing on him. He looked into my eyes and held my waist. He started to move my hips in a grinding motion. My mouth dropped open slightly at the feeling.

His eyes stayed on mine as I rolled my hips on his, his hands guiding me. It was intimate and passionate and I loved him. I held him as close to me as possible, our chests matching and my hands massaging his scalp.

"Arvin," I moaned.

I could feel a build up of tension in my stomach.

One of his hands slowly came down between us and started to rub my clit again. I threw my head back in pleasure, the feeling intensifying.

"Shit!"

"You close, darlin'?" He asked lowly.

"Close? To- to what?" I asked, fastening my movements.

"Fuck- to your high, baby."

His fingers kept working on my clit and his other hand still guided my hip.

"My high? Oh fuck! That feels so good!" I moaned loudly and highly.

His fingers worked faster.

"If you feel like you need to let go...then do it, baby." He groaned.

I didn't really know what he meant but the feeling in my core and stomach tightened.

"Oh god! Yes! Yes!" I moved my hips faster on him.

"God you feel so good, baby. So good around me." He praised.

I dug my nails into his back, my head going to his forehead.

"Arvin, I love you." I admitted breathlessly.

"You-you love me?" He repeated as if he was surprised.

"Yes! Yes, I love you." I bit my lip.

"y/n...pretty girl," He brushed some of my hair behind my ear.

"I love you, too." He grinned.

I stopped my movements for a second to smile and kiss him. I wrapped my arms around his neck, bringing him as close to me as possible.

He started to thrust up into me, the sound of skin slapping and my surprised moans filling the room.

"Oh! Yes! God, yes!" I squealed.

He worked a lot faster than I did. His member brushed a spot inside of me I didn't even know existed. I could feel myself clenching around him and he groaned at the feeling.

"Let go for me, baby. Come on." He grunted.

"I love you! Arvin, I- yes!"

I felt the knot in my stomach snap and the feeling in my core burn. I moaned and cursed and gripped Arvin's hair in ecstasy. He continued thrusting up into me, my wetness dripping down onto him and his thighs.

"Feels so good baby, good job." He praised.

He kept me in my high like I had entered nirvana. My mind went cloudy, my vision hazy, my hearing muffled. All I could sense was Arvin. And that's all I needed.

"Fuck, baby-"

He quickly flipped me back onto my back and pulled out of me. I was still somehow in my high but I opened my eyes to see what he was doing. He pumped his member a few times before grunting and finished on my upper thigh and lower stomach.

I watched in awe. His muscles tensed and untensed, his head was thrown back and the sounds leaving his mouth were heaven.

After he calmed down he crashed next to me and we both caught our breaths.

"Sorry about that, I should have asked you." He sighed.

"It's okay. I liked it." I giggled.

He shook his head and looked at me, "You are perfect, y/n."

I shook my head back, brushing my hand over his loose curls, "No, you are."

He smiled at my touch, "How was it?"

I laughed lightly, "Good. I didn't even know it was possible to feel like that."

He smirked, "I'm a master, what can I say?"

I rolled my eyes and smacked his chest. He laughed and then shuffled closer to me, lips decorating my shoulder.

"Did you mean what you said?" He asked quietly.

I nodded, "Every word."

His lips connected to mine in a soft, long kiss.

"I love you." I whispered.

"I love you, too."

He dropped the needle onto the record and waited for the music to play.

(Play now)

'Cry To Me' by Solomon Burke began to play through the speaker.

Arvin had poured us a glass of very fancy scotch each. He said it was only for special occasions. I had only put my panties and one of his button down shirts on. The warm, humid weather was enough to keep me warm. Arvin wore a white vest shirt and some long pyjama bottoms.

"I love this song." I hummed, sipping the warm alcohol from the crystal glass.

"Dance with me." Arvin stated rather than questioned.

I smiled and sat my glass down. He gave me his hand and twirled me under his arm before bringing me into his chest.

We held hands on one side while his other hand held my waist and my other held his shoulder. We swayed back and forth to the music, enjoying the post-sex bliss.

"Come on, and cry to me." I sang an octave higher.

Arvin smiled, "I love you."

I giggled, "I love you, too."

We stayed like that, dancing and singing to the parts we knew, hands all over each other, stealing a few kisses whenever we could. He'd spin me out and I'd attempt to spin him but he could never get the hang of it.

We were happy. And we were in love.

"I've never seen you like this before, you know? I like happy on you." I smiled up at him.

A one sided smile curved on his face, "No one's been able to bring it out of me before."

I bit the inside of my lip at his words. Part of me was happy and proud that I could make him feel like that but the other part felt horrible that he's felt that way for so long.

"Well get ready to be happy a whole bunch, 'cause I ain't goin' nowhere."

He laughed, twirling me under his arm and back into his chest.

"That's exactly what I want." He smirked, leaning down to kiss me.

Our lips pressed together.

But only briefly.

A truck pulled up outside. And both of us turned to look out the window.

"Wait WHAT?!" I shouted, noticing that it was Emma and Earskell in the car.

I looked at the clock on the wall.

11:57.

"SHIT!" I exclaimed.

It was nearly midnight. I was supposed to be home at nine.

I scrambled to Arvin's bedroom and hurriedly put on my dress and shoes. Arvin put the shirt I was wearing on and changed into his work trousers again. He grabbed his jacket and his keys, shoving his feet into his shoes as we ran to the front door.

"Oh! You two are still here?" Emma jumped at the sight of us rushing past her outside.

"Back soon!" Arvin shouted.

I jumped into the passenger seat and Arvin got in the drivers. He pulled out frantically and drove off.

"Oh my god. I'm dead. I'm dead." I panicked.

"Just calm down, you'll be fine." Arvin tried to soothe me, speeding through the village.

"You'll be dead, too! Oh god what are they gonna do, Arvin?" I gripped my hair.

"We're nearly there, it'll be fine." He grasped my thigh lightly.

I took deep breaths, looking out at the silent town as we zoomed past everything. The dread in my stomach grew as we drove up the road and then entered the grounds, past the gate.

"Go before they get you, alright?" I ordered, jumping out the car.

"Y/N Y/M/N YL/N! Where the HELL have you been?!" Ma shouted from the door, storming outside.

"Ma, I can explain! Let's just go inside!" I exclaimed.

"Boy, get out that car right now!" She shouted at Arvin.

"Ma! Stop! It's not his fault!" I shouted, beginning to get defensive.

Arvin got out of the car and held his hands in his trouser pockets, walking towards Ma and I. I saw Daddy standing by the door, watching everything and my heart ached.

"You are supposed to be takin' care of her! How dare you keep her away this long with no contact! How dare you!" She shouted at Arvin, pointing a finger at hi accusingly.

"Ma! He didn't do anything!" I shouted.

"I am not STUPID y/n! I know that you two have been gettin' together almost every night. I see the car bein' parked behind the gate, I see the way you two look at each other. And I do not have a problem with that! But if the so called MAN known for his sexual acts keeps my 18 year old daughter out until MIDNIGHT, I am not gonna be happy!"

"We lost track of time, ma'am." Arvin stated calmly.

"Oh did ya' now? Doin' what?"

"Ma!" I shouted.

"No! I wanna know what was so important that stopped you from comin' home on time!"

Arvin and I stuttered, not knowing what or how to say anything.

Ma scoffed and clenched her jaw. We could practically see steam coming from her ears.

"You. Inside. Now." She demanded, pointing at me.

I furrowed my brows, "No! I'm not goin' inside with you!"

"y/n, inside right now!"

"No! I'm not leavin' Arvin!" I held his arm in mine.

Her chest heaved with rage, "Arvin, stay the hell away from my daughter."

Ma went to grab my arm but I dodged it.

"No!" I screamed.

"y/n!"

"No! I wanna be with Arvin!"

"He is no good for you!" She shouted as if he wasn't there.

"You do not get to tell me what I can and can't do! I'm an adult and if I am in love with someone-"

"IN LOVE?" Ma shouted.

"Yes! In love! We love each other and you can't stop that!" I held his arm so tightly I was surprised I hadn't cut his circulation off yet.

"You are not to be with each other anymore. You are a bad influence on my daughter and I never want to see you near her again. Do you understand?" She spoke sternly to Arvin.

I looked up at him. He gulped, his eyes becoming teary, "I understand." He uttered.

"Arvin!" I scoffed.

"I'll leave you alone." He murmured, beginning to walk away.

"Arvin! What the hell are you doing?!" I shouted, my arm still attached to him as he - we - walked away.

He opened the car door and clenched his jaw, not looking at me.

"Go with your parents. I've done enough."

"Arvin, don't say that! You- you just said you loved me!" I felt tears begin to fall from my eyes.

His chin quivered, "Just go, y/n. Please."

"What? No. No! I'm not going!"

He ripped his arm away from me and went to get in the car.

"No!"

I slammed the door so he couldn't get in.

"No! You don't get to do that, Arvin! You don't get to say you love me then fuck off when somethin' comes between us!" I shouted, realising these were more sobs than anything.

"Just go inside, y/n." He said to the ground.

I furrowed my brows and shook my head in disbelief.

"y/n-" I interrupted my mother.

"No! Arvin, please! Why are you doing this?"

"We can't be together." Arvin sniffed.

"Yes we can! We can!" I went to cup his face but he moved away.

I didn't know if it was sadness or utter rage but I broke down in tears.

"You said you loved me!" I screamed, pushing him against the car.

He took it. He didn't look at me, though. But he took my babyish tantrum.

"You said you loved me!" I cried, hitting his chest.

"y/n, go inside. Please." He begged quietly.

I saw tears fall from his face.

I stopped and stood back, watching with blurred eyes as he got into the car and drove off quickly.

I choked on a sob and kneeled to the ground in a cry, letting all the emotions I had pent up go. Absolutely everything.

Ma came up to me to comfort me but I pushed her off and stood back up.

"No! You don't get to comfort me after ruining love for me." I cried, pushing past her and running to the house.

I ran up the steps and I paused briefly when I saw Daddy watching with tired and heartbroken eyes. He silently moved to the side to let me storm away. I sobbed uncontrollable sobs as I ran up the stairs and slammed my door shut, sliding down to the floor.

I thought he loved me.

{Tags: @notanordinaryprincess96 @imagine-yourself-happy }

#arvin russel #arvin russel x y/n #arvin russel fluff #arvin russel smut #arvin russel angst #arvin russel x reader #arvin russel mmini series #mini series #tom holland #tom holland series #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland angst #tom holland fic #arvin russel fic #one shot #arvin russel imagine #imagine #tom holland imagine

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detectiveconnor · 3 years

Note

What makes you ship RK1K? No hate, I'm just curious.

no read more we die like men

Hello! The long and short of my answer to this is that the relationship is a very on purpose one that almost seems ... just genuinely healthy for each of them? They are both very real people who have to live and breathe and exist in this complex environment where literally thousands of people have these preconceived notions of who they are and why they do what they do, and they don’t unite over that shared “everyone thinks they know us” but rather over.. ”I want to know you”, they unite over there you are. Hello.

They treat each other as very equal and real and Connor loves to know that Markus is the sort to misplace his keys (and to smile like that, and that he survived what could have killed him, and that Alive Alive Alive is something that runs all the way through him, not just the surface)... and Markus loves to know that Connor blushes in his shoulders if he blushes at all (and that Connor has had his coin for a Long time, and that when Connor’s body posture tenses he Has Something To Say, and that they can meet eyes across the room because Connor has a joke and Markus knows he has one). They make a point of noticing each other and making eye contact and saying Hello, when they can, even if it is in passing. The first time Connor went out of his way to say, “Markus,” after a meeting finished - Markus had some next task to hurry away to (they both did) - and Connor stopped him like that to say, “Good morning.” That sort of noticing. The ‘we are doing important work, we are, but I see you, and hello’.

Dotpoints:

Their shared tenacity for Showing Up. Connor and Markus each have this inherent inclination to get things done, to affect change, to do what they can hands-on to achieve the things that they want to achieve: they are both very extremely capable people with their own agency. They don’t accept someone telling them You Have No Agency Here. They don’t lie down and let things happen. The fact that they’re together .. they set out to make that happen and they both know it, it was a very audible ‘I liked you and I chose you’ in their being-together.

The way they seek the Real in each other, and normalise it, and look for ways to know it better. Yes of course Connor is real and sometimes forgets to turn on the light before he checks the peephole at literally midnight, yes of course Markus is real and sometimes stubs his toe on his way across the living room, yes of course they are real and disagree about the legitimacy of rolling socks as a laundry technique (Connor rolls a pair - a single pair, the rest are normal - sometimes to see Markus wrinkle his nose when he finds them). Yes of course they are real and able to entertain themselves by poking at each other. Connor loves knowing these mundane things about this man who lives and breathes his Alive, and Markus loves that white-blue flash of Connor’s LED when he looks away and pretends he’s being innocent. “What are these?” because they’re rolled, what are those, Connor? (”They... look like socks,” that same false innocence, and tiny nod, and he hums laughter when Markus throws them.)

Connor brings Markus something lilting and light-hearted and insistently so. You may have noticed Detective Connor Connor is a VERY very funny person - he does it on purpose. He is a homicide detective who teases and smiles and makes fun in a very dry way (”You seem so human!” / “... Thank you,” smooth, “You seem so Android.”) which nonetheless communicates his point. He loves his work and he insists on having fun with it, it’s a personality trait he has to have because of where he works on the edge of suffering, and that ... Markus worked through the entire revolution surrounded by friends and yes he loves them and they love him, and Simon especially has some moments, but Connor - once he knows he likes someone (and that happens quickly, when Markus first notices one of his jokes and his eyes Sparkle that way) - brings humour into their work, and their meetings with people who could have made it a much worse meeting if Connor did not disarm them with a smile first. Markus deserves to smile/laugh more, the way he drops his head when Carl tells him he’s not a good liar. Connor being Connor gives Markus something More.

Markus brings Connor a warmth and lightness and a You Belong Here which Connor has always found it hard to turn away from. There’s the way Connor relaxes forward, in Markus’ direction, in the church, and the way Markus recommends Connor when someone needs police advice (even when Connor isn’t there), and the way he turns for Connor’s opinion when he’s caught that Connor tensed, or has something to say (and that - noticing - happens more often than he doesn’t, Markus learnt very rapidly, because he was Paying Attention). Markus respects Connor’s capability and his presence and the fact he belongs there just as much as anyone else, Connor has never felt he was being Tested or asked to be something he is not (”You are a detective,” Markus said to him, once, and even once asked him why with a curiosity that was I want to know more about This Part Of You rather than I want to change it, and Connor... gosh. He loves him.) Connor could have survived without Belonging at New Jericho and being offered a place there and taking up space in that particular location. He still would have done good work, but the extent of your place is with your people could have been ‘I will not actively kill you, but... you know, you’re you’, and he would have accepted his life with grace and kept going. But Markus is warm and light and always has been, always has counted Connor that way. Connor looked at Markus and saw Equal, and Alive; Markus looked at Connor and saw Equal, and Deserve. Markus being Markus gives Connor something More.

They are not less without each other and do not have to be for the relationship to work, they just take up space in each other’s lives and it is warmer and better and lighter and nicer and good to find each other there. They are kind and they reach because they like to, not because they have to. They are Them, the plural, because they could do it alone but Do Not Have To and so they won’t.

They trust each other deeply, and that is built on solid foundations. Their trust is what it was at its starting point and it has been built on not in building-blocks but in actions, in tangible events, in Countable Nouns. They did not live through the revolution together the way Markus, North, Josh, Simon did -- but they lived through the aftermath, and the surviving. The healing. The rebuilding. Their trust is earned, and solid, and real. Good lord, Connor loves being with someone who makes Real so loud. He has only ever wanted to live in the Real world, to live the Truth, with his eyes open. there is so much that is tangible about Markus. Connor feels it in breathing around him.

This won’t ever come up, but for the record: yes, their hearts are compatible. Each being RKs, it is possible they’re even a better match than usual. Their regulators are each their own - they are Their Own - but in a pinch, they could share, back and forth, shivering cold and Trying to Stay Alive, together.

this isn't even mentioning ... that they enjoy art (not just visual art: art), and looking for the truth out of people's intentions and words, and reaching for people, and sunlight, and music, and slowdancing to no music, and trading opinions about topics where there is no Right Answer there is just their own opinion and They Want To Know each other in that way, and playing chess together one piece at a time whenever they get a chance to move it, and Connor once explained to Markus the way the first Android astronaut was probably murdered in space, actually, but "That's outside my jurisdiction," and also it happened six years before the revolution, and ... my point is that is not even to mention that they have interests in common and they like spending time together, it is easy to do it, it is not a chore. This is not even to mention that they're comfortable in each other's space, and love each other Like That, and even where their interests do not naturally overlap Connor will taste Markus' paint and talk to him about watercolours and Markus will listen to Connor theorise about a public-domain case he found for himself to solve simply because he felt like it. their interests overlap and when they don't their interest in each other bridges the gap (if that counts as a gap at all; they have that healthy Distinction, and I don't know about Markus, but Connor really does love that about him, at least.)

i could go on / shall i compare markus to a summer's day, he is more lovely and more temperate (and I'm not sure either of them actually enjoys Shakespeare), but ... yeah. Yeah I just love them, you know?

#otp: in love like air #rk1k #ingrid talks #thank you for asking!#long post for ts #long post

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elleonmybeloved · 4 years

Text

The weather on the day of the competition was perfect, nary a cloud in the sky and a warm fresh smelling breeze blew throughout the city of Mondstadt. Everybody was gathered around the archon statue, in front of which a raised wooden platform has been placed as a makeshift stage. The person in charge of the event is just a person who owns an instrument shop in the city, but the real weight behind regulating the event is the group of knights of Favonius that stand guard in the area and enforce safety as well as the rules of the proceedings. There’s no panel of judges. It’s the audience who chooses the winner by writing the name of the bard who gave their favorite performance and placing it inside a wooden box to be counted by the host.

“Ooh, Paimon can’t wait! When are they gonna start already?” Lumine’s floating companion gives an impatient wiggle. “Oh wait, look, here comes the host now!”

The host steps up on the stage, and after a minute the swelling chatter from the crowd dies down to a murmur.

“Greetings citizens of Mondstadt, and welcome to another battle of the bards! It is my pleasure to announce that we will be treated to fifteen performances today. Each contestant will be performing two songs, one preexisting song of their choice, and one of their own. After they have all given their performances, you, the audience, may cast your vote for whoever most greatly moved your heart with their music.” He gives a break for applause.

“May the anemo archon watch over us all! Let the contest begin!” The host steps down off the stage and the first bard takes his place.

One performance after another, the city fills with music. Some chose upbeat, joyous melodies, others slow and mellow ballads, and even some that take a jazzy tune and encourage clapping and dancing from the audience. Lumine is amused to witness what she guesses is a bard commissioned by Stanley to make a song about him and his famous adventures.

By the end of that song, she and the crowd have already memorized the repetitive words and are joining in to shout-sing the great adventurer’s name.

“Good for him, I guess.”

“Paimon thought this was supposed to be emotionally moving music! Geez.”

“They never specified which emotion.” Lumine points out, but before Paimon can quip back, a hush falls over the crowd again as the next bard comes up.

The lanky teen in bright teal that takes the stage is surely Venti, but his prescence feels so different from what she’s used to. Lumine swallows dryly. He’s the one on stage about to perform, so why is she the one feeling nervous all of a sudden?

Venti begins with the first song- Lion Heart, the one about Venessa, the great hero of Mondstadt. The melody flows like the wind but the sound grows and flares like a fire in a grand way that makes her feel as if she herself has been transported back in time and is standing in the middle of a raging war. His voice is strong and unwavering as he effortlessly tackles difficult notes, and his lyre sounds more like the herald of a trumpet than some little church house harp.

When it’s over, the audience whistles and calls out loudly with applause. The man next to her is exclaiming that he has “-Not heard that classic song so masterfully done in decades!” And Lumine has to agree with the sentiment. He could end it right now and still be the one to go home with the prize.

“Oh wooow, who knew the tone-deaf bard could do that! And to think, Paimon didn’t believe him when he said singing was the only thing he did well.”

“Yeah.” She says, squinting at the stage. Venti is setting down his lyre and is taking... something, up to the stage. It looks a bit like a lute, but it’s curved in swirling angles and with it there’s a... straight bow? Nobody else seems puzzled by this, so she figures it’s an instrument native to Teyvat.

He gets into position and Lumine’s heart begins to pound in her chest. Here it comes!

It starts with a deep, resounding hum in a minor key, tamely going above and below the starting note of the chord. The instrument makes a beautifully layered, rich sound that supports the higher and lighter tone of his voice in such a nice way that she instantly understand why he chose to use this instead of his lyre. The melody begins mysterious, and she strains her ears to make out every word.

Venti tells the tale of a forest, ruled by a bird king, a white dove. His voice flutters like the flapping of wings.

The bird king loves his forest, but invaders keep coming in and threatening it. The kings friend, the lizard, drives off the invaders, but the venom of his attack drips to the ground and poisons the forest, causing all the plants to slowly wither and die. The bird king tries everything, but cannot cure the poison, and resigns himself to die with his beloved forest instead of abandoning it, and becomes poisoned as well.

The deep thrum of the stringed instrument waxes somber.

Then, a star falls from the sky, crashing into his forest with a great flash. To the bird king’s surprise, out from the crash site flows light that purifies the poison in the forest, eventually even himself, and the great lizard. He goes to thank the star, but encounters instead a lake of tears and ash.

The bird king asks the fallen star why it laments so. The star says she has lost her ability to fly, and cannot rejoin her friends that soar the heavens. Not being able to fly sounds like the most painful fate the bird king has ever heard, and his heart is moved to help the fallen star.

Lumine recognizes a theme that resembles her song in this part, and then the instrument and Venti’s voice swirl up to a new sound.

The bird king plucks a feather from his own wing, and plants it in the now purified ground. A flower grows, and from it, he plucks a fruit.

He offers the fruit to the fallen star, telling her it is a magical fruit that can restore her power to fly, but it will cause her much pain. She eats the fruit, and is engulfed in a great flame. From the ashes of the fire, she rises, no longer a fallen star, but a phoenix.

The music soars to a climax, shifting from a minor to major key in the last few notes. Then it’s over, and Venti lowers the instrument to take a bow.

The crowd is silent a moment before erupting into applause. Lumine doesn’t know how to feel. She can’t even begin to unpack the meaning of what she just experienced.

Another bard, the next contestant replaces Venti on the stage. Lumine somehow tunes back into the present.

“-and so before I begin my performance I have something to say.” The woman on stage couldn’t be much older than Lumine. There’s something familiar about her. “Unfortunately the song I was about to play has already been played.”

A confused murmur passes through the crowd.

“I got the idea to write a song about a magic forest after being rescued by some adventurers in the Whispering Woods. I worked really ha-“ Her voice breaks on the word. “Worked really hard on it and I was so excited to show it you all today. But I can’t, because he,”

She is lifting a finger at Venti. “Stole my song.”

The host steps forward with an uneasy expression. “That’s quite the accusation. Do you have any proof, Miss...?

“-Solia. Of course I do.” She says, and hands him her notebook. “Here’s where I wrote it. You can even see the drawing I made of the bird who inspired the Bird King.”

“This... does resemble the white cranes in the Whispering Wood.” He admits. Gasps and whispers come from the crowd. Somebody says they always knew Venti was a thief and several others hear that and murmur to each other.

Lumine cannot believe her ears. She can’t see Venti’s expression from here, and she pushes through the crowd to get closer.

“Is what she is saying true, young man? Please be honest.”

Lumine pushes through to the front just as Venti answers him.

“Uheheh, no. If this is meant to be a jest, I’m afraid I must protest.” He just looks really confused. “It’s not that funny.”

“Liar!” Solia cries. “It’s my song!”

Lumine realizes where she’s seen this woman before. Sitting at the base of a windmill, writing in a notebook, a week and a half ago.

“Actually, it’s my song.”

The host looks even more confused as Lumine climbs into the stage and strides over to stand in between Solia and Venti.

“And by that I mean, he wrote it for me while you sat underneath him by the windmill and copied what you heard word for word.”

“Uh, who are you?” Solia is thrown off beat by the exposure, face flushing rapidly. “His -his girlfriend?”

“Enough of this.” The host insists. One of the knights of Favonius is saying something to him. “This young lady is an honorary knight, appointed by Acting Grand Master Jean herself. Miss Solia, if you don’t intend to play your songs, please exit the stage.”

“Huh? But-“ Solia splutters through several half formed protests, but the knight steps towards her and she raises her hands. “I-I’m going.”

Lumine turns to Venti. He looks dazed, like he still can’t believe what happened. “Come on Venti.” She grabs his hand and pulls him with her off stage. “Let’s go.”

They’re a block away before she stops. She is still holding his hand.

She’s at a loss for words. “I can’t believe she did that.”

“It’s okay, Lumine.” He’s already soothing her. “I’m not angry! Eheh... but wow, I should’ve been more careful. I hope it didn’t ruin the song for you.”

“No, not at all!” She shakes her head vehemently, clasping both his hands in hers now. “It was really good. I was really moved. You were so good!”

“Hehe. Thanks.” He’s looking at her grip on his hands.

Lumine realizes and drops them like she’s been burned.

Venti retrieves them and presses one against his cheek and rubs against it.

The question she was about to ask sputters out at the bold gesture.

“You’re so cute.” He croons, and tugs her closer to him. His blue eyes shine with mischief and happiness. “Wanna play a game?”

“Play a- uh yeah, okay!”

“Close your eyes. Open em and you lose~!”

The way he is petting her is very distracting. Lumine closes her eyes and hopes she doesn’t look dumb. She can feel his breath on her face. Her heart lurches in anticipation.

“...”

She cracks an eye open, wondering what’s going on.

“Hey! Come on, you didn’t even last ten seconds!” He complains. “I’m good at this but I’m not that fast.”

The long parts of her hair are in his hands, one side half braided. She realizes he is giving her the same style as him.

“Oh sorry.” She says, and closes her eyes at his pointed look. Lumine holds very still. She feels repetitive little tugs at her hair one side, then the other. Is he finished? Feels like it.

“We match.” His voice is very close.

Pressure pulls her head forward by the braids in a gentle motion. And then there’s a swell of warmth as soft lips press firm against hers and a hand presses against the small of her back.

Lumine was sufficiently fooled into not expecting it, and a chorus of butterflies rise in her stomach as Venti pulls back and kisses her again.

Elation fills her at the confirmed prospect of his feelings and her cautiously withheld affection for him breaks free. Lumine presses a hand to the back of Venti’s neck to bring their lips even closer together.

They take turns swapping sweet kisses until they are both breathless and love-drunk. Venti isn’t there to hear himself win first place.

#genshin impact #venti #lumine #venti x traveler #good evening to my fellow venlumi shippers and them only #just kidding lol but anyways may I offer you some cuteness in these trying times?#I did my best with the song don’t drag me please

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philliamwrites · 3 years

Text

The Dawn Will Come [Chpt.5]

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses

Pairing: Dimitri x Reader, Claude x Reader, Edelgard x Reader, Yuri x Reader, Edelgard x Byleth, lots of minor pairings

Tags: #gn reader, # platonic love byleth & reader, #reader is a tactical unit, #angst, #slow burn, #subplots, #unreliable narrator, #pining, #remporary amnesia, #reluctant herp, #canon divergence, #lost twin au, #many chapters, #original content

Words: 5.4k

Summary: Waking up in a forest without any knowledge of your past and who you are, you join the house leaders of the Officers Academy to search for a way to return your memories. Unfortunately, the church has different plans for you, and Fate places you in the centre of a cruel game with deadly stakes. It certainly doesn’t help to fall in love with a house leader who is doomed to be your demise.

Notes: Chapter 4 | Chapter 6

Chapter 05: Born to Trouble

Man is born to trouble as the sparks fly upward.

[Hiob 5:7]

A breeze picks up loose leaves and carries them over a steep hill. The sun, directly above your heads, emits no blazing head and still, wearing light armour and carrying weapons leaves a layer of perspiration on your forehead. Every minute marching towards where the Eagle House students and their astute professor are waiting builds worry and the desire to turn around and put as much distance as possible between you and them but the rope tying you to the task called obligation makes it impossible to sate it.

A slight pull makes you pause and scratch the thin skin under your eye, the feeling so strange as if someone is tugging your mind in the complete opposite direction. Now that is a new sensation, and you’re careful to remember that when answering the onslaught of questions Hanneman will surely prepare once he’s back. Feeling no pain, you write it off as exhaustion for now, already looking forward to relax in the sauna later and wind down.

“Is something the matter, Herald?” Dimitri asks. Save for a few scratches and a smudged cheek, he looks fine and appears to be in great spirits. You want to lick your thumb and wipe off the dirt but smearing spit on the heir of a kingdom might not be a great idea in front of his future subjects.

“Everything is fine,” you, the Liar, say with as much conviction as your conscience allows, which is surprisingly easy. Maybe you were a performer before your amnesia, acting on a stage for an audience that celebrated you switching roles with an ease like changing clothes. Dimitri as well trusts your words, though he could as well be playing the role just to lessen your worry.

The last possibility to stall the unavoidable confrontation vanishes. They are waiting for you near the stronghold just beyond the forest from which you emerge after another painful, tense march. The remaining Black Eagle students are positioned in a triangle around Byleth. At its tip stands Edelgard, strong and tall, her axe ready to strike whoever stands between her and victory. Flanking her are ever-brooding Hubert and—

“Linhardt?” you gasp, freezing on the spot which makes everyone sticking to your heels walk right into you. Sylvain only saves himself from falling because he quickly holds onto Dedue who tolerates it like a friendly bear allowing a little bird to sit on his back.

“Is he doing something?” he asks, tiptoeing to get a better look. “What’s going on?”

You point a finger at the Black Eagle student. “No one told me it was allowed to bring students back from the sidelines.”

“Because it isn’t,” Dimitri says, patiently pulling a twig out of his hair. “Those who have lost cannot re-enter the mock battle.”

You stare at everyone separately, hoping it carries enough weight for them to understand your problem—rather why is no one questioning the obvious? They consider you with as much confusion though, at least something you have in common.

“Then why is Linhardt participating again?”

They share worried glances.

“Herald, what are you talking about?” asks Dimitri with a crease between his eyebrows.

It is enough to make your next protest come out more desperate. “An hour ago, Felix and I dealt with Ferdinand and Linhardt. I told you!”

“But—” Sylvain’s face goes blank with surprise. “Didn’t you say you guys got Ferdinand and Dorothea?”

“Dorothea?” You didn’t even know she participated. “No, I swear, we— Why would I claim something different?” They lack the answer to that just as you and any minute pondering it longer is stolen by a vicious MiasmaΔ that splits a tree behind you in two.

“Hey!” Sylvain shakes a fist at Hubert. “Use magic only in moderation!”

His answer is another MiasmaΔ that nearly knocks Sylvain off his feet. Before you can form words, Edelgard takes a swing at you. The hit would have undoubtedly leave you with a concussion were it not for Dimitri’s quick intervention. He deflects her blow though his lance gives a worrying crack.

“Dimitri.” Edelgard’s smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “It’s time. We can finally settle the question of who’s stronger.”

“Very well.” Dimitri’s stance doesn’t falter even as sweat gathers at his temples. “I accept your challenge. With you as my opponent, I won’t hold anything back.”

Edelgard’s mouth twitches. Dimitri demands with a sharp jut of his chin for you to get out of the way. You don’t argue. Not with the rest from the Eagle house approaching. Dedue, reading your mind, or rather the frantic look in your eyes, charges towards Byleth, leaving Linhardt and Hubert to Sylvain and you.

You focus on Linhardt, mouth burning to question, “What spell did you use to switch places with Dorothea?”

He is so baffled by that, you move without thinking—a swift strike, the sword turned midway so the blunt end smashes into his nose. He stumbles back with a sharp cry, a hand flying up to stop the blood running in rivers down his uniform. There is no time feeling bad for catching him off guard like that. A picture flashes before your eyes. You throw yourself to the ground and feel the lance swipe over your head not a second too soon. You roll back up on your feet, glaring at Hubert. He simply raises a brow in challenge. Sure, you accept, fully aware there is only one way to win against him.

“Edelgard!” you gasp in horror. Hubert’s head twitches but he doesn’t fall for your scheme.

“Really, Herald? I know Her Highness can take care of herself. You need a better trick than that.”

“Really? Then how about this trick?”

This time, Hubert whirls around and is greeted by Sylvain’s fist to his jaw. Combined with your MiasmaΔ, he doesn’t stand a chance. That victory is only short lived though. Out of nowhere, Byleth appears and knocks Sylvain out, not batting an eyelash. She towers like a vengeful spirit, arriving to seek retribution. Trying to move around her, you don’t leave her out of sight for once, your mouth dry and your heart beating so fast your ribcage hurts. The tension is thick enough your swords could cut right through it. It is so tense, in fact, you only manage a dry, “Hey.”

Byleth raises her sword. “Hello.”

“Great day to … you know.” You mirror her movement. “Clobber each other with wooden swords.”

“Less talking, more fighting.” Byleth charges.

You turn and run away.

She immediately pursues like a wolf chasing after a deer. If you weren’t so focused on moving your legs as if your life depended on it and not tripping over something, you could swear someone from the sidelines is cheering for you. Someone sounding like Claude.

“Herald, try a surprise attack! She’ll never expect you to stop and swing your sword at her!”

No, no, no, he can come down here himself if he has a death wish. But another chance emerges before you, one waiting in the lush thicket that you disappear into in hope to lose her. That hope is quickly vanquished when twigs and dry leaves break right behind you shortly after you breach the edge of the forest. In your panic, you grab onto a branch and pull it with you until you’re sure the blow will at least make Byleth stagger to catch her breath. When you let go, she already knows what you’re up to. With a vicious blow, she breaks the branch and throws her sword at you when you try to run past her back to the field. The pain is unlike anything you’ve felt during training. It brings you to your knees, the stronghold in sight and yet so far away from the forest’s borders. The impact knocks all breath out of your lungs, making you unable to call out for help.

Byleth stands before you, her sword back in her hand and risen to deliver righteous punishment—until it isn’t Byleth, it is a man, but you can’t see his face, his features hidden by dark shadows.

Don’t, you think but your mouth forms “You don’t have it in you” instead and before you know it, you speak those words out loud. The picture disappears in a flash so bright, a paper bursting into flames, pain explodes in your head before everything zooms back into painfully sharp focus.

Something changes in Byleth’s eyes, her hesitation a surprise immediately costing her gravely for Dimitri appears by your side, facing her and a desperate sound of relief escapes you because that means Edelgard is out of the game. It is only a battle of stamina at this point, the battle blurring as you stumble to your feet and help Dimitri to overpower Byleth even though your back is a medley of pain. Judging from how her reacting slower, you get a picture of who from the Black Eagles was fighting the most up until this point.

Everything happens too fast. It takes one turn, one swipe of Dimitri’s lance, incredible luck that Byleth starts to get exhausted, and a second later, her knee gives in and she’s on the ground, a wooden edge to her throat. The silence is only disturbed by the second roar of trumpets signalling the end of the mock battle.

You gasp.

Dimitri gasps.

Byleth blows a strand of hair out of her face, her face a blank slate.

Screams and shouts erupt from where everyone else is waiting for you, drowning Jeralt declaring the Blue Lion’s win.

“Herald.” Dimitri’s smile dazzles you more than the sun’s light, radiant and handsome. “We did it. We did it thanks to you.”

“No, it was you—” A wave of fatigue washes over you from overusing your power. Exhaustion smothers you, so suddenly that your vision blurs around the edges. Your limbs are leaden; you feel as though you are sinking into mud. Before you hit the ground, Dimitri catches your arm and steadies you.

It is the unpredictable comedic sort of timing were the cosmos decides it is the right timing for the rest of the students to catch up.

Sylvain lets out a loud, suggestive whistle, appearing way too chipper for someone just brought back to consciousness thanks to white magic. “Who knew His Highness would decide to court someone wide out in the open like that? Did you invite our dear Herald to dinner first?”

Ingrid pushes him hard. “His Highness isn’t like you,” she says at the same time Dimitri asks, “But I do plan to invite our Herald to dinner.” All eyes are on him. It is suddenly really hot even though his gauntlets around your arm are cold. “We all are invited to celebrate our victory with a feast in the dining hall.”

“Aww, goddess help him,” Sylvain sighs, looking like he’s about to facepalm his hand through his forehead.

Any response on your part is delayed by Rhea and Seteth reaching your group after congratulating each student who participated on their work.

“Congratulations on winning the mock battle, Herald,” Rhea says, looking incredibly pleased. From the very beginning she’s probably expected nothing less and you wonder if her smile were as content had you failed. “You showed great leadership and trust in your students, who all did exceptionally well.” She’s smiling at every one of them like a proud mother. It leaves a warm, fuzzy feeling inside your chest, her contentment a beacon that banishes the last shadows of doubt in your heart. You could get addicted to this feeling.

“Now, please return to the monastery,” Seteth advises the students. “We have a few matters to discuss with the faculty members.”

As the students disperse, Dimitri quickly ducks his head in your direction. “We will speak more later.” He trails after his friends, falling into step with Dedue.

“Look at them, being so excited. How adorable.” Manuela smiles, not showing any signs of anger about losing the fight or exhaustion flicking the students back together. “Good job leading them, Herald.”

“And yet, I must advise you to participate more actively in the battle itself next time.” Seteth crosses his arms in front of his broad chest, not sharing Rhea’s idea on how a good job looks. “Professor Byleth showed great assistance and fighting spirit. You would do well to learn from her.”

Byleth gives a little shrug when you glance at her. She doesn’t seem to care much for that.

“Don’t be so stern, Seteth,” Rhea chastises him fondly. “There is still so much room to grow for all of them, our dear Herald, Professor Byleth and the students. For now, let us return and allow them a moment of respite. Their first real mission awaits them at the end of next month.”

Seteth pulls a face as if he bit into a lemon but doesn’t object.

“I have one concern myself,” you quickly throw in before tracking back, wondering how no one else mentions it. “When Linhardt and Dorothea—”

“I would like a word,” Byleth suddenly says, grasping your wrist lightly in such an easy, familiar way you immediately shut up. They leave you two to it as you follow them a couple hundred feet behind, both silent though the voice in your mind doesn’t shut up about the dozen of questions bouncing back and forth. After what feels like hours, Byleth finally says, “You noticed it, didn’t you?”

You stare at the road, a yawning void in your head where just a second ago a cacophony of questions caused a headache, unable to put two and two together. When it finally clicks, you wipe your head so fast in her direction it pops in your neck. “It was you? How did you do it?”

Byleth doesn’t answer immediately. Her gaze drifts over the treetops, calmly swaying from left to right. The battle has concluded half an hour ago, but it already feels like a lifetime has passed and the peace and quiet of nature around you is like a completely different world. The land surrounding the monastery is exceptionally beautiful, luscious and overgrown with flora that covers the ground in a colourful patchwork rug. How the rest of Fódlan must look like…

“When we first met, you asked how I could trust you. It will sound strange but you and I, we are connected.” She’s still looking up ahead, now at the towering spires of the monastery piercing the sky.

Your mouth is dry. “Connected how?”

She stops now. When she turns and looks at you, again the thread that ties you two together strums in an ancient tune. You stop breathing for that second.

“You control the flow of the future, and I control the flow of the past.”

You still don’t understand. Byleth reads as much from your lack of response. “What I mean to say is, I rewind time. When you defeated Linhardt, I turned back time’s hands to have Dorothea walk his path instead to keep my healer. I just never expected anyone would notice. And no one did. Except you.”

It’s like those words don’t reach you. They recoil from a waterfall that rushes through your ears, distorting the words. When your brain finally finishes freaking out about it, only one thing appears of importance. “You cheated!”

Byleth wears an expression that clearly states, That’s rich coming from you.

“I— That—” How can she remain so calm? This information tilts your world, turning every hour you spent lying awake at night in your chambers wondering if you’re the only one with a power like that into a painful memory. “Does that mean you have a Crest as well? If our powers are alike, surely there must be an answer to why we have it. If we talk to Hanneman about it—”

“You won’t,” Byleth cuts you off, her tone as sharp as her sword. “You will share no word with anyone about what I just revealed, or I will strike you down.”

The wind picks up, flickering your robes left and right and rocking trees that bow in humility to a force much greater than them—a feeling you can relate to. Cold sweat runs down the back of your neck. This isn’t a threat. It’s a promise.

“You spend too much time with Hubert,” you manage with a trembling smile only held together when the tension dissipates from Byleth’s face.

“Professor Hanneman is still studying my Crest,” she says, a tinge of sorrow in her voice that strikes you harder than any danger or threat, “but I can assure you my abilities are not tied to it. I’m sorry.”

She must have felt what you so desperately wished for: a connection. The assurance that you are not alone in this world with this strange power.

It makes the way back to the monastery like a march through mud, laden limbs walking towards a goal you don’t know will be worth all the exertion. When the silence becomes too unbearable, you build up the courage to ask, “What are we, Byleth?”

She drops her gaze to the ground. It is the very first time you see uncertainty hover like a shadow over her face. “I wish I could tell you, but I don’t know.”

The sky turns an orange canvas when you finally return to the monastery. The last villagers from the small town downhill start returning home, their tools laid to rest inside their carriages. You can’t wait to sink into a nice hot bath, washing away the dried sweat and grime from the battle and change into loose, comfortable evening robes. You don’t come further than past the entrance hall. Leaning against a high pillar, Dimitri is adjusting the loops on his gauntlets, blond strands falling into his face like golden strips of sunshine. Before you reach him, Byleth says with a light touch to your elbow, “Please see Professor Manuela about your wound, okay? You did great today.” You promise her you will and watch her until she disappears through a hall leading to her personal quarters.

With your attention on him, Dimitri looks up and stands straighter. He grins at you, his smile sudden and jarring like a thunderclap.

“I have been waiting for you, Herald,” he says and takes you by the wrist. The cold of his gauntlets bites at your skin, making you hiss. His hand immediately drops, and he turns around in panic. “Oh, apologies. It is difficult to control my strength sometimes and—”

“No, no, that’s not it. I was just a little surprised.”

He sighs in relief. “Still, I am sorry. I will try to refrain from doing that in the future.”

“Dimitri.” You graze his clothed underarm with a finger, unsure if that was a wise decision when his eyes widen in surprise. How is it you only notice now how long his eyelashes are? “I think we have seen today I am not that fragile.”

His eyes jump away, avoiding contact, the blush creeping up his neck clearly standing out against his pale skin. He clears his throat. “I just wanted to make sure you will join us for dinner. I was not joking earlier when I said we should all celebrate our victory.”

“Are you guys sure? I’m not your teacher and in the end, I didn’t do all too much.”

Dimitri shakes his head. “Nonsense. You fought with us and led us to victory. We would love to celebrate with you, and while you won’t be with us all the time, I’d love nothing more than to share our happiness with you. Joy can be so fleeting, after all, and I’m sure the rest of the class feels the very same.”

“If it really is okay with you all…” You glimpse over at him. Why not. Why not enjoy some leisure time with the students. You could surely use it to get to know them better and distract your thoughts from Byleth’s revelation. “Just give me some time to get ready. I’ll see you in the dining hall.”

“Actually, please come to our classroom,” Dimitri says. “I don’t know how Sylvain managed it, but the kitchen’s head lady allowed us to dine in the classroom.”

Your brows fly to your hairline. Dimitri answers with a little, low chuckle. You both have a pretty good idea how he managed to pull that stunt.

Back in your quarters, you wash away the dirt and pick a simple robe the colour of freshly pressed parchment. The water’s heat renders today’s injuries to a dull pain save for the scrapes on your knees that still burn but are clean now. Hunger quickly catches up as well, dispersing your last doubts of intruding the class’ celebration. After leaving your room, you stop by the infirmary where Manuela makes quick work of your remaining wounds with her magic, turning purple bruises into faded yellow spots you immediately forget once you step out and head to your destination.

The tables are already laid, arranged into a formation that resembles a circle allowing conversations to flow easily. You expected them to be already stuffing their faces but when you step into the Blue Lion’s classroom, the only source of light is a dim candle flickering in the middle of some students huddled together. Only Mercedes’ soft voice is audible, not counting the little whimpers from Annette or Ashe shuffling as he tries to hide behind Dimitri who appears to be the only one invested in her story.

“… no one knows how deep the tunnels underneath the monastery run. But once they reach where walls are built from skulls and bones, they turn and go back … or try to do so, for who knows what horror lurks behind every corner.”

“Nooooooo,” Annette cries, clutching to Dimitri’s sleeve. “Why would anyone go somewhere like that?”

“A-and who built it in the first place? Tunnels lined with bones…” Ashe shudders, still looking smaller than Dimitri even though he is the one sitting.

“A fascinating idea.” Dimitri’s excitement, bright as a spark, doesn’t bounce over to his friends. “To imagine there could be a whole civilisation living right in plain sight like that.”

“I can’t imagine we wouldn’t notice,” Ashe reasons. His conviction would be more credible, would he not still cling to a white tail of Dimitri’s shirt. Before you can join and see if you would fare better listening to stories about haunted and forgotten places, Sylvain steals past you, his voice making you jump. “Shouldn’t you guys be finished by now?”

Seeing your sour expression, he simply winks and hurries inside, carrying a big steaming pot. Followed by the rest of the Lions, they carry plates with dried meat, slices of bread, vegetables and cheese, and place them on the tables for everyone to just pick whatever they want. With a flick of your wrist flames flicker to life inside both fireplaces and the candles on top of the chandelier above your heads. Everyone hurries to find a seat. The students have all changed out of their battle garments into the academy’s summer uniform, its fabric much lighter than the heavy embroidered regular uniform they wore upon your first meeting.

“My dear friends.” Dimitri raises a cup, holding the thin stem between slender fingers. It would look more elegant were its contents not simply orange juice. “To our victory today and many more to follow.”

They raise their cups to toast except for Felix who knocks his drink back as if it were strong liquor he desperately needed to sit through this evening gathering. He doesn’t look as pale as before. A quick check up by Manuela after the battle affirmed that he was alright and simply fatigued from countless sleepless nights spent at the Training Grounds.

The other participants don’t look too bad either. Bruises that vividly blossomed hours ago have faded, swollen purple eyes already start to heal—all certainly thanks to Manuela’s quick work. Sylvain surely won’t be as successful chasing girls with a shiner that makes the prettiest violet jealous of his colour and Dimitri tries to hide it but you don’t miss him tensing from time to time or moving his hand towards his side; probably a bruised rib he doesn’t want anyone to know. He catches your stare and offers a slight, boyish grin under half-closed eyes that only whispers of a shared secret only meant for you two. It does a funny thing to your stomach, a flip or drop, a light twist like missing a step and the fear of falling only to meet solid ground a split second later. You quickly look away and focus on spreading curd on a loaf of bread, not trying to think too much about how the muscles strained under his clothes wielding his lance or the fierce determination colouring his eyes a shade brighter when victory is in palpable proximity.

You feel a piercing gaze, hot like a solid touch on your skin. Quickly whipping your head around, you catch Felix’s glare from across the room, completely ignoring whatever Sylvain is telling him. It leaves you completely tense for the rest of the dinner, wondering what his problem is and why he is so hostile towards Dimitri specifically. You’ve heard from some students who have walked into an argument those two had, something about a massacre two years ago but details, as is their nature, grow hazy over time and distort until they evolve into something completely different and unrecognisable.

Felix holds your gaze for a long second, and it is only later after you all clean the classroom from your festivities and decide to retire to bed that you catch him by himself. The monastery at night is a desolate, lonely place save for a couple stray souls wandering about, either on their way to their chamber or out for a quick, last evening prayer inside the chapel. Felix’s destination is none of those as he strides towards the Training Grounds and you call out to him. He slows but doesn’t stop his step until you catch up. “You’re on your way to training, right? Shouldn’t you call it a day? Especially after what happened—”

“I’ve got no time sitting around and making smalltalk,” Felix snaps, and a month ago you would have thought he aimed his anger towards you but recently you’ve discovered he’s towards the whole world—always glaring, always hissing like a cornered, wounded animal. “There are more important matters like growing stronger—”

“And suffering from overexertion, I suppose.”

Felix pulls a grimace. “It was a mistake I don’t intend to repeat. You saw Professor Byleth’s strength. It took two of you to win, and even then, it was mostly luck. I just want to try out some moves Professor Byleth exerted today so I can surpass her strength next time I challenger her.”

“Why is it that you seek to fight so much?” you ask, deciding forwardness to be a better approach than idle chatter with a person like Felix. He doesn’t give immediate response, not because he ignores you, as is your first assumption, but because he gives it some thought.

“Why, hm… I learnt to thrust a sword before I learnt to write my name. This is how it is for all children in my country, the perfect environment where I could live free of stodgy values and virtues. Grow strong so you may live, and live to grow stronger. That’s what I was taught.”

It is no secret Faerghus is the land of knights and chivalry, and still it is hard to imagine a small version of Felix wielding a sword even before he learnt how to use a quill, scraped knees instead of black inked fingertips. What a strange world.

“As long as you don’t forget to take a break should it get too much. Everyone was worried today.”

“Everyone should mind their own business. I’m not their problem, and they aren’t mine.”

You’re too tired to argue relationships don’t work like that, any minute longer on your feet and they’ll simply give out. Wishing Felix a goodnight, you turn towards the chapel but don’t get very far.

“Herald.” Felix is halfway through the door. “Let me give you one advice.”

“That is?”

“Don’t get too close to that damn boar.”

You’re about to ask what he’s talking about, but he continues, “Beneath all that princely polish, he’s an animal, nothing more. He’s strong and skilled, sure. But don’t place your trust in him as a human being. Take care he doesn’t chew you up and spit you out.”

Not waiting for a response, Felix moves on, leaving you with more questions than answers. Every creature with two eyes can see hostility between Dimitri and Felix crackling like lightning about to strike the ground and burn down forests and villages. But to go this far and say these words about his future king … Words that couldn’t be more contrary to the impression he’s left on you.

Whatever Felix wanted to accomplish, his words succeed to remain in your head the whole night, driving off any sleep you direly needed after that day. But even without that, your mind is occupied with questions. It is like stumbling into a spider web, sticky tangles everywhere with no way out.

Who is that man you remembered? It was such a brief, yet striking memory, of what moment you cannot recall. His hostility was evident in his stance, sharp sword high up to drive down with enough force to cut your head from your shoulders. And yet here you are.

And your words, You don’t have it in you. If you were familiar enough with that person to know this, who was he to you, and what had stopped him? Did he have a change of heart and instead used the blunt end, giving you a concussion and amnesia instead? Where is he now? And would he return to finish his work?

Since that day, you look out for anyone fitting that built: tall and lean, visible even through robes with a design completely different from anything you’ve seen around the monastery. Asking Rhea or Seteth could be an option, but strangely enough, you don’t want to reveal it to anyone yet, not until you’ve found an answer yourself first.

That is how your first moon at the monastery passes. Now there are more questions than before, more secrets to carry with no clear goal in sight. Lessons continue, you attend seminars and life unfolds in Garreg Mach, surprising you how easy it is growing accustomed and familiar with the place and its people—some more so than others.

Byleth still invites you to her obligatory weekend-tea time sessions, rarely accepting no for an answer even though tea isn’t really what you consume to wind down. She’s acting like your talk after the mock battle has never happened and you do your best to mimic her even though you’d love nothing more than to see her power in battle. That opportunity shows at the end of the following month when Byleth and her class are tasked to deal with bandits the knights cornered in Zanado, the Red Canyon, but Rhea has different plans and instead sends you with the Golden Deer House to the village at the foot of the mountain to help clear debris a flooding left on one of the main roads leading to Alliance territory. It takes two days until the stench from the muddy riverbank is completely washed out of your hair.

There is still no sight of the man from your memory, even though word about the Herald’s return has reached every corner of Fódlan by now. It makes you wonder if it’s less a matter of if and rather when he sets food inside the monastery. No additional memory has resurfaced, no sudden epiphany provides explanation and you doubt that will change even though Seteth drags you inside the chapel to pray for the goddess’ help whenever his time allows. Mostly, you use those occasions to ask her to make Raphael and Ingrid leave some Nirvana Cake for you.

Then there is your other little secret of course. After another month of waking to an indistinguishable voice calling out to you every once in a while, you’ve grown used to it, finding a strange comfort in someone or something looking over you. Maybe it is the goddess. Maybe she is trying to reach out to tell you something important, to give divine insight and reach out to her followers. You just hope once she comes through to you, her words won’t proclaim hardships and sorrow.

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch24: Like The Old Man Said…Together. Part 2- Walk It Off

Summary: The Avengers track Ultron and it’s a race against time before the AI can put his plan into action.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Bad language, Smut (NSFW) violence and crazy assed robots. Oh and “Something dramatic, I hope!”

A/N: This chapter now includes additional content! @angrybirdcr has done it again girrrrrl

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 24 Part 1

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

“Ultron knows we’re coming. Odds are we’ll be running into heavy fire, and that’s what we signed up for, but the people of Sokovia they didn’t. That’s why our priority is getting them out. All they want is to live their lives in peace, and that’s not going to happen today. But we can do our best to protect them and get the job done. We find out what Ultron’s been building. We find Romanoff. We clear the field and keep the fight between us. Ultron thinks we’re monsters, and that we’re what’s wrong with the world, but this isn’t just about beating him, it’s about whether he’s right.“

Steve certainly felt like he was right when he descended down the ramp and the first thing he saw was a huge mural of himself on a wall to his right. If he hadn’t been so concerned with the word, ‘fašista’ scrawled across it, he might have given some consideration to the fact the art work was pretty good. He looked at the painting, before turning and tossing his helmet back into the jet, almost hitting Katie as she walked down the ramp. Frowning she looked at him, spotted the paining and gave a sigh. She knew that would have upset him.

But whether they liked Captain America or not, the people of Sokovia were getting his help and that of the rest of the Avengers too. Thor and Bruce went underground to Strucker’s base to find Natasha and the Vibranium, Tony and Vision went off to locate where Ultron was and confront him so that Vision could do his part. The rest of them focussed on the evacuation, if this was going to end in a fight as it always did, then it was best to get the civilians out of the way as soon as possible. Steve dispatched Clint to a rooftop to oversee events from up there and Katie headed off with Wanda to the bridge that led out of the city. She could feel the younger girl’s panic even though she did well to try and hide it

"Do you see…the beauty of it? The inevitability. You rise, only to fall. You, Avengers, a meteor. My swift and terrible sword. And the earth will crack with the weight of your failure. Purge me from your computers, turn my own flesh against me. It means nothing. When the dust settles, the only thing living in this world will be metal.”

They seemed to be fighting forever, and Sokovia was getting higher and higher. Just as everything seemed lost and the group looked to be faced with an impossible decision after Tony pointed out that the only thing he could think about was blowing the city before the impact radius got too big. Steve was adamant he was not leaving the city with one civilian on it, when Katie smiled sadly and turned to him.

“I didn’t say we should leave.” She swallowed, and she could feel Natasha looking at her as well from where she stood on her right. Katie turned to Steve, as he looked down at her “There’s worse ways to go.” she said responding to his silent question, her chest heaving resigning herself to the fact that they might not make it out of this alive, surprised the thought didn’t frighten her more at that point.

“She’s right,” Natasha agreed, and Katie turned to look at her. She shrugged and nodded out at the clouds “Where else are we gonna get a view like this?”

“Glad you like the view, Romanoff.” All three of them started at the very familiar voice that came through the coms. “It’s about to get a whole lot better.”

That’s when the helicarrier came right into view and Katie smiled, her eyes filing with emotion as she felt the relief swell in her chest.

“So this is your ‘something dramatic’?” She quipped and Fury gave a hum of confirmation.

“Nice, right? Pulled her out of mothballs with a couple of old friends. She’s dusty.” Nick Fury said nonchalantly. “But she’ll do.”

Katie looked round and noticed that Pietro had joined us, looking at the ship.

“Fury, you son of a bitch.” Steve spoke in almost a whisper while shaking his head.

Fury let out a whistle before responded to Steve teasingly. “Ohhh hooo, you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

Their fight led them to protecting the Vibranium Core that was situated in a church which was in the dead centre of the City and of course Ultron followed them. As The Avengers surrounded their precious charge, Thor yelled out to the AI.

“Is that best you can do?”

Ultron picked his hand up, and what seemed like a million robots began to advance towards them.

Katie groaned, and looked at Steve as he turned to look at Thor, annoyance all over his face. “You haddda ask.” He deadpanned, his Brooklyn accent coming out as it often did in these situations, and Thor at least had the decency to look sheepish.

“This is the best I can do.” Ultron continued on. “This is exactly what I wanted. All of you against all of me. How can you possibly hope to stop me?”

“Well, like the old man said,” Tony stated, and Steve turned to look at him over his shoulder, “together.”

Hulk then let out a loud roar as the swarm of robots attacked.

The robots began running into the church by the hundreds it seemed, but everyone was ready. Arrows, fists and Steve’s shield flew, repulsors, guns and shock sticks fired, speed and red tendrils of power ripped them apart from the inside, lighting flashed and the Hulk smashed. Eventually Ultron joined the fray and Vision flew at him. Ultron punched Vision into the wall but he retaliated by using the mind stone in his forehead to shoot at Ultron making him stagger back and out of the church.

Vision didn’t let up as Thor, Tony and Katie joined the android with lightening and repulsor beams respectively. The Starks surged their arms forward, unloading all the power they had in their suits and the 4 of them combined melted away the outer layer of Vibranium that covered Ultron, which was when they stopped. He could be taken out easily now.

“You know, with the benefit of hindsight – ” Ultron began to say but Hulk roared then punched him so hard he went flying across the city.

Hulk growled at the remaining robots who immediately turned and ran away.

“They’ll try to leave the city.” Thor called out.

“We can’t let them, not even one.” Tony spoke frantically, calling on their other eye in the sky. “Rhodey…”

“I’m on it!” He announced over the radio. “Oh no, I didn’t say you could leave…War Machine coming at you.” there was a pause as Vision flew in to help, phasing and ripping one of them apart “Ok, what?”

“We gotta move out.” Steve spoke as those of them left on the ground re-grouped. “Even I can tell the air is getting thin. You guys get to the boats. I’ll sweep for stragglers…”

“I’ll come with you.” Katie said. For some reason she didn’t want to leave him, or more to the point him to leave her. Steve looked at her, and he understood, he really did. If there was a chance they were getting separated he really didn’t want to take it but he wanted her on that carrier, away.

“You go and make sure everyone gets out. I’ll be right behind you, I promise.”

He’d never broken a promise to her yet, so she took a deep breath and nodded.

“What about the core?” Clint asked while turning to look at it.

“I’ll protect it.” Everyone turned to Wanda, giving her a worried look. “It’s my job.” She clarified nodding to Clint. Clint inclined his head towards her, before he turned to leave.

“Nat.” He said as Steve started to usher everyone bar Wanda out of the church. I threw one last glance over at Wanda before Katie turned to Steve.

“Be careful.” “I always am.” He grinned.

“Liar.” She muttered watching him go, before she took off again, looking down at the devastation on the ground below. This was far worse than New York. Far worse than Washington. It was horrendous, and Katie wasn’t sure how the people of Sokovia would ever recover.

Clint skidded the car he had been driving to a halt by the lifeboats and Katie landed besides them. There was a roar and she glanced to her left, noticing the huge form of the Hulk throwing around debris of the various robots.

“We don’t have a lot of time.” Clint looked at Natasha meaningfully.

“So get your ass on a boat.” She shot back, jumping out of the car.

Clint and Katie then set off, ushering the last civilians around them onto the last boat as they went. Katie spotted Thor stood a little to her left, his head turned over to his right as Steve appeared from inside a building.

“Thor, I’m gonna need you back at the church.” Tony said over the coms.

Thor nodded despite the fact that he couldn’t see Tony and then looked at Steve, breathing heavily. "Is that the last of them?” He asked him.

“Yeah,” He answered instead, quickly looking around at the evacuations taking place, spotting Katie and Clint boarding the boat “Everyone else is on board the carriers.”

“You know, if this works, we maybe don’t walk away.” Tony mutterd quietly, cutting Katie out of the coms temporarily so as not to worry or upset her.

“Maybe not.” Thor agreed in a whisper.

At that point Clint sprinted back past them, but before either of them had time to follow him to help a hail of gunfire suddenly erupted where they standing. Steve held his shield up just in time and Thor dived to the side to avoid the bullets that had luckily been fired in a straight line between them all.

But it was Katie who noticed first what had happened. As the dust settled she saw Clint stood, with a little boy in his arms. He’d clearly tried to shield him from the bullets but it was Pietro that was standing there with bullet holes riddling his torso, the blood seeping through them.

“No.” She muttered her pleading growing more frantic as she flew over to where they were stood “No, no, no.”

“You didn’t see that coming?” The blonde man attempted to joke weakly then wobbled before falling face first and Katie caught him as she landed, just before he hit the ground. She laid him down gently and looked him over.

“FRIDAY, life signs.”

“Negative.” The AI’s voice was tinged with sadness.

Katie bowed her head slightly before my face plate slid back and she looked up at Clint. The pair of them exchanged a glance before Steve knelt down and closed Pietro’s eyes.

“I’ve got him.” He said gently, as he bent down and picked up Pietro as easily as if he was a small child. The three of them headed back to the airship, Clint with the little boy in his arms. Once on board, Steve lay Pietro down gently on the floor, where Katie sat by him, her suit making a clunk as she slid to the floor. Clint groaned as he lowered himself onto the row of seats behind her. Someone walked over to see if they needed any medical help but Clint waved him away.

“No, no I’m fine.” He groaned, lying down across a few seats, his hand resting on the metal shoulder of Katie’s suit. “Oh it’s been a long day…”

Steve stood on the rock for one final look round, he couldn’t see anyone. But then, with a lurch the city fell with huge force and he turned and gave a jump, grabbing onto the platform of the ship as the city fell. He pulled himself up onto the deck and stood up to see, lightning flashing from the sky. As he watched, the city of Sokovia exploded from the inside out crumbling to pieces and raining down heavily into the ocean below.

He turned to see Katie was stood a few feet away, looking down.

“Tony? Thor? Wanda?”

When none of them replied she looked over Steve, biting her lip.

“They’ll be okay.” He nodded, although he wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince her or himself.

There was a slight lurch as the ship they were stood on docked with the hellicarrier and they turned to help Clint but he was already walking, carrying the body of Pietro with him. Katie jumped down onto the tarmac, deactivated her suit and made her way over to Maria Hill who was stood with another agent, directing them where to take the walking wounded, medics running onto the ships to deal with the more seriously injured in situ.

“You guys alright?” She asked as they walked over to her. Katie nodded and then spoke again into her coms. It was a relief to see Wanda’s red hair sat on the deck a few yards away from one of the ships, Vision having pulled her out of the city in time.

“Any news from the others?” Steve asked. Maria sighed.

“Natasha is on the bridge, Banner, I mean the Hulk, he got her out in time but…he went off in a jet after Ultron…I got nothing from Thor or Tony…”

Katie turned to look out over the sky, the airborne dust making her cough slightly as she scanned the clouds, waiting for a sign or anything from her brother.

“He’ll be fine.” Steve dropped a hand onto her shoulder. “He always is.” “One day he won’t be.” She turned and looked up to face Steve

“Maybe, but that aint today…” A familiar voice rang in her ear and she let out a sigh of relief as her brother spoke. “Kiddo, put the beer on ice, I think we just won again.”

*****

Refugees crowded every corner of the flying base, sitting in the halls, huddling together, terrified. The dust in the air meant SHIELD couldn’t connect to their mainframe or satellites, and the internet-based translators were down. Every person on board who knew even a smattering of any Slavic language was being recruited into helping settle the homeless Sokovians.

Fury was meeting via telecon in one of the conference rooms with the Sokovian political leaders, who were not pleased at being dragged from their homes in Novi Grad in the wee hours of the morning only to then watch their nation destroyed. So with Fury busy, Steve and Katie had to tell Tony about Bruce.

That hadn’t been fun at all. Her brother had struggled back to the helicarrier, with barely enough power left to make the landing, Thor hot on his tail, soaked to the skin and staggering with a nasty head wound. Steve helped him inside where he was led to a medic bay and they had all retreated to the comms room where Nat was stood in a corner, staring at a blank screen.

“Where’s Bruce?” Tony demanded as soon as he got his helmet off. “We’ve got to figure out…” He trailed off, seeing the expression on Katie’s face. Then his eyes flashed across to Natasha. The woman hadn’t moved a muscle in ten minutes, standing in a corner and staring straight at the wall, back to the rest of the room.

“Tony.” Steve’s voice was heavy. “He’s taken off. We can’t reach him.” “And I don’t think he wants us to.” Katie added. She had barely finished her sentence before Tony bolted across the room to the computer banks, heedlessly shucking off bits of his armour as he went.

“No.” He shook his head, fingers flying across the keyboards. “No, I can find him. I can do this, I can bring him home.”

“It was cloaked.” Natasha’s voice was very even, with absolutely no inflection. She didn’t stop staring at her wall. “Your own cloaking devices. And SHIELD’s secret tracker was disabled in the fight.”

Tony’s hand slipped, hitting a bunch of things Steve was sure he hadn’t meant to. Swearing hopelessly, he stared blankly at the useless screens.

“Why?” He demanded, very quietly, the furious brokenness in his voice made my heart ache for him. “Why would he…?”

The unfinished question hung heavy in the dusty air. Steve was the one who answered.

“Because,” he said, swallowing. “When you’re in the air, and you’re carrying something that will destroy everything you love, that’s all you can do. You do go down, and you take it down with you.”

Tony’s hands curled into fists, anguish in his snarl. “This isn’t the same as your golden boy sacrifice play, Cap. No bombs on that Quinjet.”

“No, no bombs.” Steve gently squeezed Katie’s shoulder as he noticed she’d been about to chastise her brother for his venomous jibe, and he shook his head softly as he dragged his gloves back on over his bruised and bloody knuckles, flexing his hands. “Just himself,” he finished quietly.

“Veronica failed, Tone.” Katie said gently, understanding at once what Steve was getting at, Bruce’s actions suddenly making sense. “He didn’t want to come to Sokovia and I guess, well he didn’t want to risk hurting anyone again, and he saw a way out.”

Natasha turned on her heel and pushed past them, her eyes wet as she made for the door.

“Nat.” Katie turned to watch her go. She shook her head, signalling she wanted to be alone as she left. Katie looked up at Steve who hung his head sadly.

But there wasn’t time to think on it. Fury arrived at that moment, clearly pissed at something. He explained to the group that after the explosion that tore Ultron’s plans to shreds, he had been set to take the helicarrier to a refugee camp in a nearby country but the Sokovian officials had refused, insisting they be set back down in what was left of Novi Grad. Steve nodded and told Fury to do as they wanted.

“This wouldn’t have happened if it hadn’t been for us.” Steve’s jaw was set, and his arms folded. “We owe it to them Fury, like it or not.”

Fury hadn’t liked it, at all, but he didn’t have much say in the matter - not when Steve had that look on his face.

“This isn’t going to be nice.” Steve muttered as the pod had descended back to the ground.

“I know.” Katie said. “But we face it together, right?”

Together they strode off the pod, not really knowing where to start. Novi Grad was an absolute mess. Most of the city had been torn up by the roots, and the rim that was left hadn’t escaped unscathed either. Buildings had toppled from falling debris and the initial ground-shaking wrench. Water and electricity were out, phone lines were down, and the streets were clogged with cars and people. Children choked on the thick air as parents tied whatever cloth they could find around tiny mouths, trying to protect their lungs.

It was thankless, numbing work. Most of the civilians avoided them, casting wary glances out of the corner of their eyes. A few swore or spat, some cried, but after a while it began to get difficult as a particular group started to get violent, screaming as they threw things at the four Avengers. It didn’t cause much damage to the Nova or Iron Man suits, but the rocks soon started getting bigger. Katie heard a yell and turned to her left to see Steve stumbling forward, hand clamped over the back of his head. He fell to his knees and Katie moved over to him, dropping besides him.

“Shit.” He mumbled as she heard Thor give a roar.

“Let me see.” Katie looked at him and Steve winced, shaking his head.

“I’m fine.” He got to her feet, hand still clutching at the back of his head.

Katie glanced up at Tony, who had completely lost his patience.

“Ungrateful brats,” he snapped loudly after the young hooligans who had immediately scarpered after Thor’s show of anger. “Look, why don’t you head back to the carrier, see what the next step is?” Tony curled his gauntlet clad hand over Steve’s shoulder as his face plate retracted. Katie looked at her brother, thankful for his suggestion.

Steve shook his head, but even as she did so she saw him sway a little.

“Sweetheart, you’re bleeding.” She whispered gently, and he looked at his hand. “At least let’s clean you up.”

Steve didn’t want to go, but he gave into her as she whispered “Please.”

“Five minutes,” he relented at last, and allowed her to lead him away.

*****

As Katie shed her suit, Steve sat on a chair in one of the hellicarrier kitchens, one of the few rooms that wasn’t being used as a makeshift hospital or treatment bay. There were no spare medics so Katie grabbed some gauze, antiseptic and a couple of steri-strip bandages. He would heal pretty fast anyway.

“You know you should have had your helmet on.” She said gently, suddenly realising he hadn’t had it on for the entire time they had been in Sokovia having tossed it back on the jet when he saw the graffiti picture of himself when they first landed. He shrugged and didn’t reply, but he flinched hard when Katie lightly touched the lump at the back of his head.

“Sorry…” she said gently as he waved away her apology, head bent as she cleaned the blood off his hair.

“Doesn’t hurt as much as what they were calling me.” He mumbled, and Katie paused.

“Which was what? I didn’t hear them.”

“Fašista.” He shrugged. “Fascist.” His shoulders slumped and sudden angry tears stung at Katie’s eyes, but she blinked them back and swallowed the hot anger swelling in her throat. This was a man who had put his life on the line countless times to fight the very things that people were calling him. She leaned forward, slipping my arms around his neck, connecting them in front of his chest as she bent to lay her face against his cheek.

“At the risk of sounding like an old man, everybody’s so young these days,” Steve said at last as he turned his head to face her “Has it all been forgotten, or have I really become…?”

Katie cut him off, her eyes on his, faces inches apart. “They’ve forgotten,” she assured him firmly. “You know those people, they can’t begin to imagine how things were back then. I find it hard at times and that’s after you told me so much. We never lived through it, never knew what it was like. History books and lessons can only do so much, Love.”

Steve’s fingers laced between hers. “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it,” he whispered heavily.

"But that’s why there are people like us, people like you. You will always remember, and because you do, you help us do our best to keep the rest of them safe.”

She pressed a gentle kiss to his lips before she straightened up and continued to tend to the wound on his head. It wasn’t as deep as it had looked and was already starting to heal. She checked to make sure there were no fragments of the brick left behind and when she was satisfied she dropped the bloodied gauze into a bin and turned to face him.

"I shouldn’t have taken Banner.” He said, and Katie took a deep breath “I knew he was low, but he said he wanted to come, he wanted to help find Nat.”

“You can’t blame yourself for his choice,” Katie reminded him. “He’s a grown man…” Steve didn’t say anything more about it, instead he stood up and took a deep breath. “Come on, let’s go see what’s happening.”

*****

It took almost two days for relief services to arrive at Sokovia. Steve felt dirty, tired and desperate for a hot shower and his own bed and he wasn’t alone. None of The Avengers had changed in 2 days. All their extra equipment had gone on the missing Quinjet with Bruce, including the change of civilian clothing everyone tried to keep on hand. But their discomfort paled into insignificance when he glanced over at Wanda as they landed at the tower. Katie guided her up to the spare room, ensured she had what she needed and then instructed her if she needed anything else, all she had to do was ask Friday, who would contact her immediately. Wanda nodded and Katie left her to be a lone for a while.

When Katie got back to her floor Steve was already in the shower, and the bed had never looked so inviting, which was why she couldn’t wait to get into it. Stripping off her filthy cat suit and her underwear she walked into the bathroom which was filled with steam and stepped into the shower behind Steve, her hands straying round to the front of his chest and she pressed a kiss to the back of his shoulder, laying her head against his back. He didn’t flinch, he simply grasped her hands in his, pulling her closer and dipped his head slightly as she nuzzled into his shoulder, the grime from the last few days whirling down the plug hole as the water rained down on them. Without speaking, Katie grabbed his shampoo, and gently as she could massaged at his hair. Steve gave a soft moan, relishing at the feel of her nails on his scalp, happy to bliss out for a moment. He turned to face his future wife, tipping his head back to rinse his hair off and smiled tiredly as he dropped his head to kiss her softly.

“Turn round.” He said gently, and she did as she was told as his hands wound into her hair, repaying the favour. She leaned back into his touch, the intimate moment also serving as a perfect relaxer so much so that she didn’t object when things started to get a bit heated. This was always how things went with them both, they sought solace in one another, the physical relief of losing themselves with someone they loved was how they coped, how they stayed grounded, reminded themselves that they weren’t alone.

His hands travelled down her body, her back pressed to his chest as his fingers reached between her legs, finding her spot. She moaned, arching back into him as his other hand caressed her breast, his arousal pressing into the lower part of her back and she lazily rolled her head to catch his mouth. As the hot water cascaded down onto them he took her to the brink before he spun her round and lifted her easily, pressing her back onto the cool tiles. He thrust into her without warning and she groaned, her hands gripping his shoulders as he began to pump in and out, his head falling to her collar bone as he gave a soft nip. With each roll of his hips Katie felt her pleasure beginning to mount, soft moans falling from her lips as she dropped her head to his shoulder, the feeling in her stomach beginning to overwhelm her.

“Look at me, Doll” he said gently, and she opened her eyes, emerald gems locking onto his as he saw her mouth open, lips part in a soft cry as she came, a deeper groan bubbled over in her throat and her head slid backwards. Steve would never get tired of seeing her like that, ever. It was the most arousing thing in the world to him. His pace began to quicken and he followed shortly, the tight bands in his stomach snapping as he pressed her harder against the wall as he rode out his release.

When they had finally finished in the shower the pair of them were almost dead on their feet. They dried off, Katie shucked on one of Steve’s T-shirts and clambered into bed with him. Neither had any idea what time of day it was but neither cared, the blackout blinds sent the room into darkness. Katie lay her head on Steve’s chest, his hand slid up the cotton of his shirt and he gently ran his fingers up and down her spine.

He managed to do it about twice before the pair of them were out for the count.

***** They both had nightmares that night. Katie woke first, gasping for air as she relived the moment on that rock where she had thought for one horrible moment they were done for, until Fury had shown up. After getting her a glass of water, Steve had held her until she’d fallen asleep, waked from a bad dream which, for some reason didn’t seem to take him anywhere near Sokovia. Instead, he was back at that moment he plunged into the ice.

And the dreams continued for them both for the next few nights. Katie’s were always the same, but Steve’s persistently catapulted back in time to various points during the war. It was unnerving for him but mostly, they were just that, bad dreams…until one night, for the first time he could remember, he suffered a full scale hallucinating night terror.

Having actually managed to sleep soundly so far that evening, the first Katie knew something was wrong was when Steve was pinning her down against the mattress and shielding her from something.

“Steve.” She croaked gently, blinking the sleep from her eyes. He didn’t respond other than to simply flatten himself against her further, right arm curled around her head.

“Stay down,” he ordered firmly.

“What’s going on?” She asked softly, still coming round from the sleep he had roused her from.

“Air strike, men in the hall.” He said, turning to her. "I’ll head for the door, cause a distraction. You get to the bathroom, get in the tub, cover your head.”

She listened intently, then realised what he had said. Air Strike. He must have been dreaming he was back in the war again. She let out a breath and relaxed, reaching up to take his face in her hands.

“Stevie, nobody’s there. Everything’s quiet.”

“You can’t hear them?” He looked at her frowning.

“Sweetheart, do you trust me?”

He nodded. “With my life, you know this Katie…”

“Baby, I promise you - there’s no air raid, nobody in the hall.”

For a moment, Steve just stared at her, his face wracked with confusion. Then, swallowing hard, he closed his eyes. After a moment he raised his head to look around before his face fell back on hers as her thumbs gently moved in long arcs down the sides of his face.

“Steve?”

With a shuddering breath, he pulled himself up, reaching for his shield by the bedroom door. Picking it up he listened for a moment before throwing the door open and he walked out into the hallway. Katie sat in bed listening to the sound of various other doors being opened and shut as he meticulously swept the whole of their floor, checking windows and closets until he ended up back in their room.

His back and chest were both glistening with sweat. He looked at her, his eyes wide before he went into the en-suite and she heard the tap running and the sound of water being splashed against what she assumed was his face. She gave him a few minutes before she followed him, where he was stood leaning forward, forehead pressed to the mirror, chest and shoulders heaving.

“Stevie…” she said gently, as she slipped both her arms round his waist, pressing a kiss to his bare, clammy shoulder. Her touch seemed to do the trick as he took one deep breath and turned to face her.

“Did I hurt you?” He asked his eyes looking at her as the palms of her hands spread across his lower back.

“Of course not.”

He wrapped his arms around her and she lay her head on his chest and felt his heartbeat as it gradually evened out. Neither of them spoke for a while.

“Your dreams, they’re getting worse.” Katie said gently.

“It’ll get better.” He finally managed. “You know it’s been bad before. It will fade after a while.”

Katie knew from experience that everyone dealt with traumatic experiences differently. For example, Tony suffered panic attacks and went completely off the rails post both his soiree in the Afghanistan cave and New York. She tended to take a lot of things as they came and worry about them for a while but after screaming and crying would then give herself a kick up the ass to either change things or deal with them. Steve’s worry seemed to manifest itself two fold. He would either be suffering from the inability to stay calm and therefore would exercise, pounding out frustrations on either the pavement or the punching bags. And then there was this, the nightmares. Normally Katie would wake with his jostling but if she didn’t, he would always shake her awake if he needed her, as that was the agreement they had. She would then help him back to sleep either by talking or they would engage in some other un-coventional means of therapy until both of them were spent and satiated enough to return to slumber.

Katie gently took his hand and led him out of the bathroom turning off the light. As they reached the bed he waited until she was in it, pulling the duvet up over her before snagging a pillow and turning to go.

"Where do you think you’re going?”

He shrugged. “Thought I’d camp out on the couch. I don’t want to keep you awake.”

“No way…” She said, throwing back the duvet “Come on.”

He sighed and climbed in as she opened her arms for him to settle his head on her chest, gently stroking his hair as he swallowed, his breathing steadying as her touch soothed him.

“Where were you this time?” she asked

“Azzano… I think.” He sighed “To be honest with you, I saw so many things, the dreams now…they all blur into one.”

“You wanna talk about it?” He took a deep breath. “It was just loud, and I was in a building and I couldn’t get out. It was so real. When I woke up I knew where I was. I knew who you were, but I just…I dunno…”

They lay in silence, Katie continually stroking his hair as he nuzzled into her closer. She kissed the top of his head and was pleased when about 10 minutes later she heard his breathing start to lower and his head became heavy. He had managed to drift off.

*****

The next night he woke with a start, but that was it. There was no walking or hallucinating, he merely woke from a bad dream and climbed out of bed for a glass of water. When he came back, there was no talking, but he sought solace in his girl in another way, his lips kissing her hard, his hands reaching out and roving over every bit of her body he could find and he fucked her, hard, losing himself completely. They lay afterwards, sweaty foreheads pressed together and Katie simply held him close as they both came round. Eventually he moved off, pulled her to him and they fell asleep, limbs tanged around one another, his hold tight.

The next few nights he was peaceful, and Katie was hopeful that the terrors had passed, but then, four nights after the first incident he broke his hand.

Captain America could put his fist through a two-by-four with nothing worse than slightly reddened knuckles - but Steve Rogers’ hand hadn’t been in a fist. Katie had woken to his hoarse cry of “Buck!!!”, in time to see his outstretched, fingers slamming straight through the plasterboard and into a metal stud in the wall as he flailed out of bed, reaching for a man who had fallen some seventy years earlier.

Katie scrambled over the bed like a shot as he was yelling out for Bucky again and again as he knelt among scattered pieces of plaster and wood, his left arm buried inside the wall up to the shoulder.

"Steve,” she tried, but he didn’t respond, eyes fixed in a thousand-yard stare, face crumpled with an agony that was more than physical, breath hitching and ragged. She felt the tears spring into her eyes and she was just about to ask FRIDAY to send Tony to help when she heard the door to their penthouse burst open and a few moments later Thor strode into the bedroom dressed in a pair of black sweatpants, hammer in his hand.

“I heard the Captain yell, and…” he trailed off as he took in the situation at a glance and then crouched next to Katie.

“He’s dreaming…” She said gently, “He’s dreaming about Bucky, his friend, falling…”

Thor frowned absently, brushing his fingers across the captain’s temples as though he was trying to work out a problem. Then abruptly, he rose and was gone, moving almost silently through the darkness.

Whilst he was gone, Katie managed to gently work Steve’s arm out of the wall. His broken hand lay twitching in her lap and she was horribly aware that they would need to set the bones before they healed wrong. Thankfully, Thor wasn’t gone long, and he was not alone when he returned, hand firm around Wanda’s shoulder. The girl’s eyes were wide and her hair was tangled - obviously she had been sleeping.

“Thor,” Katie began to protest as she glanced round at Steve. The last thing he would want would be to come back to reality in the middle of some kind of impromptu party.

Thor held up a hand, pausing her even as he turned his full attention to Wanda

“Do you see?” he asked gravely. “Do you understand now what The Vision told you?”

Trembling, Wanda shook her head even as she went to her knees beside Steve. He was still unresponsive, but his breathing was beginning to laboriously even out and Katie knew he was fighting for control. She started to sweep her hand up and down his back in long, firm strokes in the hope it would bring him back round.

Thor knelt too, sounding as though he were some kind of instructor. “When you allowed Stark’s fears to work against him,” he began patiently, “you found his weakness and dug deep.”

Wanda nodded slowly.

“Our Captain carries a grievous burden as well,” Thor continued, “He has been sorely wounded and works to heal, but your incautious workings have torn his memories open.”

“Thor…” Katie shook her head gently as a horror stricken look crossed Wanda’s face.

“I am sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t know. How can I fix it?”

For the first time, Thor hesitated. “My brother would have known,” he admitted in a low voice. “He had the skill, when it pleased him to use it.” He paused again, and then continued, hesitating slightly. “You must consider carefully, and proceed as seems good to you.”

Biting her lip, Wanda looked up at Katie, her stricken eyes locked onto hers.

“If you can, remind him where he is,“ Katie said gently. “Just bring him round?”

Hesitantly, uncertainly, Wanda pointed and curled her fingers before Steve’s face and closed her eyes. Tendrils of red light flickered from her hands to his temples, and Katie tensed involuntarily. For a moment, nothing happened. Then Steve’s eyes flew open, and his uninjured hand darted up faster than sight to lock around Wanda’s wrist, breaking the connection. She squeaked, startled, and froze.

“Steve…” Katie touched his arm causing him to flinch. It took him a second and then he seemed to realize where he was and what was going on. He let go of Wanda’s wrist, and looked around at Katie, then Thor hovering behind the young Sokovian, and finally the familiar surroundings of their bedroom. Eventually he looked back at Wanda for a long moment before nodding once.

"Thanks.”

A tear slid down her cheek. “I’m sorry,” she whispered hoarsely. “I tried to put everything back in place, but I don’t know how.”

“Can’t fix everything,” he assured her, with a twisted smile. His old Brooklyn accent came out very strong in this unguarded moment. “And I wouldn’t wantcha t’ try. There’s things in my head you shouldn’t ever hafta see.”

Wanda wrapped both her arms around herself. Her eyes still looked haunted. “He was like your brother, wasn’t he?” she quavered.

Steve bowed his head as Thor dropped a gentle arm round her shoulders.

“We have all lost brothers,” he rumbled, looking at her. “We know your pain. You do not face this alone.”

Katie could feel Steve was quivering, exhausted beyond words though he wouldn’t show it for the world, and all she wanted to do in that moment was to bind up his hand and then put him to bed. As she looked up to suggest to the others they might want to go she was surprised to see Wanda had squared her jaw with determination and she reached out once more.

“I can fix this, at least.”

Steve’s hurt hand suddenly glowed with red fire. He jumped, surprised, and then watched with fascination as the crooked fingers began re-align themselves. When the bones were straight again, the fire flickered out, and Wanda staggered to her feet to go, Thor right behind her.

“You ok for a moment?” Katie asked Steve and he nodded. She followed the two of them into the hall and gave a short groan as she saw the door that led to the stairs (which were never used) had been completely kicked off its hinges.

“Sorry.” Thor said, picking up the heavy door “I heard the screams and…well, I didn’t know what was going on.” “Just prop it up as best you can…I’ll let you out in the elevator.”

He propped it up, and dragged the sofa over towards it for good measure.

“I really am sorry…” Wanda whispered, tears in her eyes.

“I know, and so does he.” Katie said, giving her a hug. “He will be fine…” Her attention then turned to Thor as she gave the God a hug. “Thank you.” “Any time Little Stark.” He breathed into her hair, before the 2 of them stepped into the elevator.

Katie looked around, trying to think about how they could explain a broken door plus a hole in the wall to Tony, then she realised she didn’t care. She headed into the kitchen, rummaging through the first aid kit for an elastic bandage to keep his fingers straight and wrapped up safely whilst his fast healing worked its magic.

He was sat on the side of the bed when she re-entered the room, his injured hand cradled in his other.

“Here…” she said, and she gently took his hand as he surrendered to her ministrations.

“Is Wanda ok?” he asked gently.

“Yeah, but I’m more concerned about you.” she said, laying his hand down gently onto my lap. “Baby…” “I’m sorry.” He whispered softly, laying his head against hers.

“What for?” “This…for scaring you?” “Stop it.” She looked at him sternly “I love you, you idiot, I just want you to be ok.” “I will be…” he smiled softly, his lips catching hers “Given time.”

The next day, Katie dragged Steve out for a walk in Central Park, but first she spoke to Tony about the door and the wall. He was surprisingly sympathetic, and didn’t mention the issue to Steve once. By the time Steve and Katie returned home that afternoon both were fixed, the only evidence any repairs had taken place was the smell of fresh paint and plaster which lingered in the apartment for a few days. What thankfully didn’t linger further were Steve’s night terrors. Katie didn’t know what it was that Wanda did, but his bones healed straight and it seemed that his mind had healed somewhat straight too. Whilst he persisted with the odd bad dream, they were getting less and less frequent, and there was no repeat of the two hallucinations he had suffered which was a relief to her, as she knew with time and patience and rest, the dreams would stop as well.

**** Chapter 25

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #Katie Stark #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers smut #chris evans #chris evans characters

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novembermurray · 3 years

Text

“Just Here to Talk...”

Ao3 Link

Rating: G

Relationship: James "Bucky" Barnes & Sam Wilson (Pre-Sam/Bucky if you want)

Words: 1k

Summary: Bucky approaches the Flag Smasher leader, Sam Wilson, in a moment of grief, hoping to appeal for a peaceful solution to their conflict. But the new overzealous Captain America is waiting in the wings for the moment to strike, leaving Bucky only a few scant minutes to find common ground with his enemy. (One scene of a role-swap AU.)

Inspired by @margarethx prompt list #16.

...

“I saw you up there,” Sam Wilson said accusingly as Bucky Barnes, famed Mr. America of the Avengers, came down the creaking wooden stairs from the chorus balcony. Sam stepped away from the flower strewn casket sitting before the church altar. Their voices echoed in the high ceiling building though the sticky Louisiana air made the room feel smaller than it really was.

“I’m—” Barnes started down the aisle slowly, hands up in surrender. Wilson lifted his chin, eyes narrowed and fists clenching at his sides. “Look! — I’m just here to talk.”

“Yeah,” Wilson drawled, “You haven’t done a lot of talking last few times we’ve met. Unless you count screaming as talking.”

“You dropped me fifty feet into a flooded stormwater culvert,” Bucky defended himself with a note of petulance.

“You survived,” Wilson pointed out unapologetically. “So what? You thought you’d come here, to my Titi’s funeral, and catch me when I’m grounded.”

“No. Like I said, I’m here to talk. Besides, I know the EXO isn’t your only weapon,” Bucky put his hands down, hooking his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans. “It’s impressive tech though. I hear the Powerbroker wants it back.”

“Wouldn’t be much use to the Powerbroker. You know how many test pilots died trying to use the wings before I came along? Is that why you’re here? You working for the Powerbroker now.”

“No. But I could help keep him off your trail.”

“Nah,” Wilson’s voice was close to a laugh when he looked away shaking his head. “I’m not making deals with you. If that’s what you’re here for, you better turn around now, save your breath.”

“Not trying to make a deal. I really did just come to talk.”

“How many more guys you got waiting outside?” Wilson tipped his chin toward the double doors of the church across the room, eyes flickering to the alternate exits furtively.

“I don’t…” Bucky stumbled for words that weren’t outright lies, “That’s not… Honestly, this is usually Steve’s thing, I’m not good at the diplomacy stuff, but…”

“Yeah, your shining white knight ain’t here no more. You really think he’d do any different than you have? You think he wouldn’t be busting down that door to bring the international criminals to justice?”

“I know this isn’t about money for you,” Bucky said seriously, meeting Wilson’s gaze intently. “I’ve seen what you’ve been stealing. I went to the relocation camps. I understand what you’re fighting for.”

“No, no, no,” Wilson waved a finger in the air between them, his face hardening with rage. “You don’t get to come in here with your pale face and overextended lifespan to tell me you know what it’s like to have the whole world beat you down, lock you out and throw you aside like trash.

“When everyone came back, they didn’t hesitate to kick us out of our homes onto the streets, shuffle us into overcrowded camps riddled with diseases and give us no resources to treat the ill. We were left to die,” Wilson spat the words vehemently. “So don’t tell me you understand from the comfort of your presidential pardon and government paycheck.”

Bucky paced slowly before the first row of pews, thumbs still in his pockets. He chewed his lip silently under the force of Sam’s glare for a long moment.

“You want to know something the history books get wrong?” He asked softly. “I didn’t enlist. It was a nice lie the State Department was happy to perpetuate, better for morale and propaganda.” Bucky could see genuine surprise mixed with skepticism in Sam’s eyes when he leaned back, taking in Bucky’s words.

“No,” Bucky went on, smiling bitterly, “I was drafted. So I do know what it's like to be ripped from your home, to be thrown away like human cannon fodder, abandoned by the countries and governments that were supposed to protect you, then to come home to nothing. I do. But this, what you’re doing, it won’t end well for you or the people who follow you.”

“We’re stronger than you give us credit for,” Wilson shot back defensively. “The movement grows every day as more people see what we’re trying to do. We’ve seen that the world can be better, seen people with nothing in common coming together during the Blip as one people . We can make the world better again.”

“Not if you’re killing people,” Bucky said, shaking his head. Wilson paused like the words hit him with a physical weight.

“Killing never made the world better,” Bucky urged, “just different. Take it from someone who has done nothing but kill for almost a century. It won’t bring about the world you hope for— it never does.”

Sam swallowed and his eyes became glassy as he struggled to find the words to respond. Bucky searched the face of the man he had been sent to stop by force and saw unmistakable remorse. He knew it as plainly as if Wilson had shouted his words rather than lose them in his throat. It was the same remorse Bucky saw in the mirror after every nightmare.

“ That’s it!” The double doors of the church burst open and John Walker marched in, red white and blue shield flashing and heavy boots pounding. Karli struggled just at Walker’s heels, red curls wild around her face, as she struggled against Hoskins pulling her back from the Captain.

“No more talking!” Walker demanded, “Sam Wilson, you are under arrest.”

Sam’s dark eyes flashed towards Bucky, narrowed and shining with betrayal. “I should have known you were a liar like all the rest,” he hissed, grabbing for something behind the reverend's podium and hurling it at Barnes.

“Flash grenade!” Hoskins shouted, pulling Karli down with him as he ducked. Bucky had a moment to knock the canister away from him and cover his ears before the explosion of blinding light and splitting sound was all he knew.

BANG!

Blinking away tears and shaking the high pitched buzz from his ears, Bucky looked up towards the podium and the altar…

Wilson was long gone.

#mcu #marvel #tfatws #captain america #sambucky #Bucky Barnes #sam wilson #role swap au #my writing #fanfiction #fanfic

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arianalilyblack · 4 years

Text

Come home to me - Chapter 4

Title: Come home to me

Chapter no: Chapter 4

Author: @arianalilyblack

Pairing: Harry Wells x Reader x Eobard Thawne/Harrison Wells

Word count: 2269

Summary: The wedding of Barry Allen and Iris West is finally here. You and Harry are caught up with the wedding spirit and start to slowly realize that maybe you developed deeper feelings for each other. Everything is perfect until Nazis bust into the church ruining everything. And alongside Earth X villains guess who shows up? Your ex flame, Eobard Thawne aka the Reverse Flash, complicating everything in your lives.

At first he felt pleasure as he heard a frustrated Cisco shouting in the next cell. It was fun for a while. But then his thoughts started to drift towards Y/N, and the smug grin disappeared from his face. He cursed himself for leaving her unprotected and alone. Obviously he knew that she could protect herself, but he still felt guilty as hell. He never should have left her side, not before telling her the truth. It was frustrating that he couldn’t talk about his newly experienced feelings for her. That smile at the wedding; that was the moment when all his oppressed feelings got out of their strongly locked cage. It was a simple friendly smile, but to him it shone brighter than the sun. It made his heart beat faster, and now he will never see her again. It all ended before it could really start.

The ball resonated louder and louder throughout the Pipeline, as he became more irritated by this imprisoned state, driving Cisco crazy with every bang. Sadness took a hold on his heart. He placed his head into his hands, horrible pictures flashing before his eyes. The sight of her getting tortured or her dead body lying on the floor was maddening. The ball stopped, hitting him right in the chest.

„For the love of God, finally!” exclaimed Cisco. „Have you calmed down, Harry?”

„Shut up, Ramon” Harry sputtered. He had trouble breathing, tears stung his eyes.

„Harry, are you alright?” asked Cisco, sensing that something was off with the grumpy scientist.

„Peachy” was the short sarcastic answer.

„Don’t worry Harry. She will be fine” Caitlin encouraged him.

„Oooh, so that’s the reason why my head is splitting into million pieces” draw the conclusion the engineer. „Mister Know-it-all finally saw the light” Cisco teased him.

„Ramon!” Harry growled.

„Harry, my friend, don’t you fear for Y/N, she’s tough as a nut.” Cisco tried to raise his hopes up.

„Attention all prisoners; great news, the cavalry has arrived.”

The Legends got the message from Felicity and came to the rescue. All the prisoners were out in no time; almost all of them went to fight with Nate against Metallo, except Harry. He had better things to do. He sprinted towards the workshop, to obtain a weapon prototype he and Cisco developed for similar situation. Right before he could reach the gun, Eobard cut his way.

„Well” Harry caught his breath. „Aren’t you a handsome devil?”

„Pretty popular with the ladies, huh?” Eobard smirked implying his hypothetical relationship with Y/N. Harry was smarter then to give into this pointless mind game. „Wells, you are in real danger now. But I’m going to make you a deal.” His smile grew wider with his every word. „I can spare your life, as a man of your superior intellect has a place in our new world. Of course, with one condition” he raised his index finger. „You have to give up on Y/N. You are a clever man; you already know that she feels what she does for you just because you look just like me. You are constantly reminding her of me and that’s the only thing why she would ever look at you. Her place is by my side. I’m the only one who can satisfy her needs. She has quite a temper, that little minx. She still loves me” His devilish smile was all over his face. It disgusted Harry to the core.

„Thank you… for the offer and information.” Harry nodded in appreciation before he looked up sternly and added „I’d rather die, than to let your liar ass torture her for the rest of her life.”

„Well that…” The speedster’s smile turned into a frown and his hand started vibrating. „That can be arranged.”

„Wait, wait!” Harry raised his arms in defense as the vibrating hand got dangerously close to his heart. „Wait. Think this through. If you kill me, she will never forgive you for that, ever. She will hate you more than she already does. And besides, who knows what consequences could cause the death of your doppelganger from another Earth.”

„You’re right.” He paused. „But there’s only one way to find out” he shook his head as he contemplated his action and advanced his weaponized hand towards Harry’s chest. But instead of coursing through his heart he was shocked by something, hand bouncing back in an instant.

„Yeah, so, I forgot to mention” Harry pointed arrogantly to his chest. „I went and loaded millions of biocompatible miniature robots into my body which were programmed to attack any foreign cells speeding into my system. Just face it, Thawne; you will never get her back.”

Eobard looked anxiously to the gun, then back to Harry’s face. He could easily outrun his shadow, but then he would complicate his mission. Harry winked at the evil speedster, lips curling into a cocky smile, and jumped towards the gun, but he was to slow, Eobard had already vanished.

You were dragged away from the girls. You had no metapower left whatsoever to fight back, so you complied. Meanwhile the energy slowly started to rebuild in your system; it just needed some time to fully regenerate. You made a fool of yourself yet again, by thinking Eobard had changed. It was naïve of you to trust his words, because obviously you did believe him when he’d told you that he just wanted to come home to you. Once again you were fooled by his silver tongue, and once again he had thrown you away, like some liability.

„So how does this Nazi job paying you? Is it really worth it?” you asked, teasing the soldier beside you with a small smile, trying to cheer yourself up. No response, no reaction of any kind. „Let me go, little soldier. I promise I won’t rattle you out to the Fuhrer” you flashed your most convincing grin, but all in vain.

The muscles in your body were sore, but you figured that you could still beat the crap out of this disrespectful bastard. A loud bang came from the Cortex that was followed immediately by two another. This was your chance; you pulled your arm out of his grip and kicked him in the guts with all you physical strength. Your hands immediately clasped into his head and banged it against the wall as hard as you could manage. It did the trick so you were able to run away. You just took the right turn when you stumbled into a hard chest. Your body bounced back into a fighting position, just before you met the most beautiful ocean blue eyes you’ve ever seen.

„Y/N” Harry gasped before taking her into his arms. „I thought I’ve lost you.” He pulled you closer to his chest.

„Harry” you whispered his name taken aback by his heartfelt greeting.

It felt like your heart was about to jump out of your body, but at the same time a bitter sorrow filled it. You didn’t muster to look up to his face. Right now it would have been too haunting. Instead you stayed in his protective embrace, hiding your face from him. His body suddenly tensed which startled you. The first thing that crossed your mind was Eobard standing behind you. But then again, you wouldn’t be still standing surrounded by Harry’s warm arms if that was the truth.

„He’s back.” Your heart clenched, and you breathed in sharply. „I won’t let him hurt you.” With his right hand on your back and his left on your head, he hugged you tighter. „Not anymore.”

Finally when you looked up at him with teary eyes, there wasn’t a single thing on his features that reminded you of Eobard. It was simply Harry Wells with such loving glance that you melted into his body.

„Don’t worry, I will be alright” you raised your hand and stroked his faced.

„I will always worry for you” he admitted with a small smile.

„Why?” you urged him. You wanted him to say it out loud, to confirm that you aren’t hallucinating. This novel closeness felt surreal.

„Because I care about you, Y/N, a lot” Harry confessed and gently drew you into a sweet kiss. His lips were so soft and delicate; it made your heart flutter. „I…” his voice trembled. „I love you.”

„It was about time” shouted Cisco proudly, raising his hands as a ‘hallelujah’ motion, scaring you to death.

„Ramon” grunted Harry in annoyance, eyes darting deadly shots towards him.

„Sorry to interrupt you lovebirds, but we kinda got to go. You know, cause there’s a Nazi invasion going on and all that” he motioned a circle above his head.

The whole team was reunited on the Waverider’s deck. Flash and the others came back from Earth-X, but they paid a huge price for it. Professor Stein had been severely injured and died shortly after they came back. You wanted to be left alone, to figure out your storming thoughts, so you searched for a quiet and secluded place.

The overwhelming feelings were driving you crazy. You were sure that you will lose your mind soon, if you don’t calm down. Your frustration came out as a loud groan.

„Why is life shitting with me?” you shouted into the thin air and buried your face into your hands.

It should have been one of the best days in your life, after all the two of you finally acknowledged your feelings for each other. Well almost. Because of Cisco’s interruption you totally forgot to say those three words back to him. Life wasn’t going to make it easy for you. Eobard’s return stirred up some suppressed emotions; you’ve missed him so damn much. You hated yourself for letting him under your skin. All you wanted was to be happy with Harry, without feeling constantly guilty about it. It wasn’t supposed to be this hard; you just had to keep in mind all the sadness that the speedster caused you. Remind yourself of all the sorrow and pain he made you endure. You crossed your legs, taking a meditating position and tried to clear him out of your mind and organism.

„Why the long face, darling?” The sudden presence of another human made you jump in your seat.

„Snart! But… how?” Leo smiled at your confused facial expression.

„I’m Leo Snart, from Earth-X.” He reached out with one hand and you shook hands. „Now tell me dear, what is it that’s bothering you so much?”

„Oh, it’s complicated” you let out a big sigh accompanied by a nervous grimace.

„The matters of the heart are always complicated” he looked at you with an odd, sympathetic smile. „Eventually the things fall in their right places, trust me. Now put a smile on that pretty face and let’s kick some Nazi asses.”

„Thanks, Leo” you cracked a smile back, grateful for his encouraging words.

Harry was on the control deck with Cisco and the others. They were working on a plan to defeat the enemy but he wasn’t much of a help to them. He kept getting distracted by the earlier conversation with Y/N. He had just confessed his feelings in front of everyone to her, but she didn’t say anything back. Maybe it was because he kissed her out of the blue, or maybe it was because she didn’t felt the same way. And that’s why he couldn’t find her anywhere, because she was probably hiding from him.

Eobard’s words were ringing in his ears; “She still loves me” claimed the evil speedster. The insecurity irritated him, and when he got annoyed he usually threw stuff. He started pounding the wall nearby because of the lack of disposable objects. One thought would persistently come back to haunt him; what if she chooses that monster. “That can’t be possible, she is a rational woman. She would never go back to that bastard.”

„Harry, focus!” ordered Cisco after several minutes of calling him out.

„Not now, Ramon. I have to go” with that he was out of the room. He didn’t hear the end of Cisco’s indignant speech.

Harry was familiar with the tight relationship that was between Y/N and Eobard from the start. He knew that very well and still fell for her kind and gentle nature. Her friendship was a ray of happiness in his somber life. Even if he was just the second best thing; he would be okay with that as long as he could stay with her.

The scientist was roaming the halls, searching for Y/N. He needed to find her, to make sure she’s okay. He could only imagine how hard this could be for her after all she’d been through.

„Hey grumpy” heard a loving voice behind his back. He turned around to face Y/N.

„Who’s grumpy? I’m not grumpy” he shook his head in denial and huffed.

„Yeah, right” she waved her hand giggling.

„I will show you grumpy” he threatened and rushed towards to tickle her with a mischievous grin.

„Okay, okay” she gave herself up. „You win, but only this time” she laughed.

„I always get what I want” he smirked and attracted her into a kiss.

„If he finds out… He’ll kill you” she said in a shaky voice breaking the sugary kiss.

„He already knows. And still, here I am holding you in my arms, caressing your beautiful face and peppering it with little kisses.” He did as he said, her cheeks turning into a burning mess.

„I love you, Harry” she whispered between two kisses.

Part 5

#harrison wells #harrison wells x reader #harrison wells fanfiction #harrison wells imagine #harry wells x reader #eobard thawne #eobard thawne x reader #eobard thawne fanfiction #harry wells x reader x eowells #The Flash #the flash fanfiction #love triangle #eowells x reader

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shirtlesssammy · 4 years

Text

15x15: Gimme Shelter

Then:

Dean used his words to save the world once

Now:

At a food bank community center, three teens dole out food while stressing out about one attendant who’s breaking their cleanliness rules. Connor heads over to talk to the woman, but is stopped by the center’s pastor. The pastor challenges Connor’s motivation. ”We have rules, but we also have spirit too, right?” The pastor tells Connor to lead with compassion, so Connor brings the woman food instead of kicking her out of the building.

Later, Connor walks home. Much like all other cold open walks, this one also involves a solitary alley. He hears someone calling his name. Trying to find the source of the voice, he trips and finds a talking teddy bear, and a metal hook around his neck.

Dean and Sam discuss research. Sam’s found a non-case, while Dean’s hit the jackpot in Atlantic City. Specifically, an unexplained blackout has him thinking that Amara’s enjoying her new gambling addiction on the East Coast.

Cas pops up and thinks he should go with the brothers, but they tell him to stay put and babysit Jack. I say TFW is just better together, but I’m not writing this episode. Hrmph. The brothers are packed and ready to go, but Jack stops them in the war room to ask about the case Sam found.

Sam tells him it’s nothing. Dean encourages Cas and Jack to investigate --to keep Jack busy. Cas seems skeptical, but Dean insists.

Agents Swift and Lovato meet with the local law enforcement to learn more about the case. Sweet Jesus is it cute that Cas continues to use pop-star names. It’s cute that Jack takes after his father with the upside down badge. It’s cute that Jack recognizes the teddy bear and says he has one (Did Cas buy it for him? He has a history of buying stuffed animals for his quasi-children.)

The sheriff tells them about the victim, and how the word ‘Liar’ was carved into him.

Jack posits that this all seems demonic.

Cut to Cas digging into the ground at a crossroads. Time to get some information. Cas buries a picture of himself that Dean took when he was wearing a cowboy hat (Don’t worry, Dean still has his copy, and keeps it safe…. for reasons.) and Jack sets up a social media account. He’s WAY under 13 years old, so he needs a parent’s permission. Cas grants it easily. (Also, ALSO!! ALSO, there are NOT too many cats on the internet. This writing is so OOC, smh.)

A demon appears.

He’s channeling his inner Crowley, and I suddenly miss the bugger for a moment. Zach, the demon, is very bored and desperately wants something to do. He’s not really British and tells the duo that no one's making demon deals right now. Rowena’s of the philosophy that “people will end up where they belong.” Cas realizes their mistake and moves to leave. “Sam was right, it’s not a monster,” Jack laments. “He was half right. Sometimes humans can be the worst kind of monsters,” Cas adds.

At the community center, a woman locks up, and grabs a whole lotta cash from the donation box before she bails. Once outside, she hears a voice call her name. She looks around but sees nothing. She turns back to her car to find a masked individual. A weird editing choice cuts back to her...and commercial.

Cas checks in with the brothers. Dean tells Cas to be wary of those “Hallelujah types” and I’m like, wha? Cas is an ANGEL OF THE LORD. He’s been around the block, Dean. Lol for looking out for your BFF, tho. Also, second awkward moment of the episode when Dean just hangs up on Cas? I’m…

Sam voices his reservations about the whole finding Amara --lying to Amara --killing Amara plan. Say it louder for the brother in the seat next to you, Sam!

(Boris: I’m just going to insert this in the middle of this recap and never mention it again. Can we trust Billie? Is her plan actually something that is GOOD for our TFW 2.0? What is her agenda and does it align with what we want? What if what SHE wants is as equally bad as what Chuck wants? What if we as an audience are getting played right now??) (Natasha: What if the strings she’s pulling are emotional and she’s playing a dangerous game of chicken with Dean’s rage and Chuck’s entitlement?)

Jack joins the community center. He watches Dr. Sexy the pastor in a prayer circle, and talks to a disillusioned young woman who asks him to fill out a form before walking away.

Cas walks in separately and wanders over to Dr. Sexy the pastor praying with a parishioner, and tells him about the cash stealing Valerie. She never made it home.

Cut to Valerie tied and gagged. Her hands are in an elaborate guillotine. She wakes. Her screams are muffled. A TV turns on and flashes the word ‘Thief’. And one of her fingers gets chopped off. A timer starts on the TV. AND WE ALL RECOIL.

Jack finishes the paperwork and tries to talk to the girls working the food line. The one girl storms off, upset. Jack follows her and tells her that he didn’t mean to upset her.

She tells him that Connor and her dated. Well, they watched a lot of old movies together. (AHEM! AHEM! AHEM! “I’m your Huckleberry.” AHEM. Please stop the clowning, it hurts so much.)

Jack confesses to the girl that he lost his mother. The girl tells Jack that her mom died three years ago, and now it’s just her and her emotionally unavailable father, the pastor. “I have more dads than most, and I’m always just feeling like I’m letting all of them down.” JACK!!!! The girl tells Jack to trust God, not people.

And we laugh, and laugh, and, guh, laugh.

Cas, meanwhile, meets with Dr. Sexy the pastor.

Cas interrogates Dr. Sexy Pastor about whether anyone else has gone missing recently. Well, there was one guy who used to work for the “faith-based community” but they parted ways. Cas and the pastor enjoy a little god talk. Cas, the weary angel, opines that God just doesn’t care. The pastor has a different take on faith - it’s about the people of his church doing what they can to take care of each other. We learn that this church recently changed from a fundamentalist branch to something more welcoming. Connor was able to come out as gay due to the changes, so some good happened. (Hindsight thoughts: this makes his death and the “Liar” all the more awful.) “A saint is a sinner who keeps trying,” the pastor concludes...and if that ain’t the truth about Cas!

Sam and Dean are on the too-slow train to Atlantic City when Amara drops in during a gas stop and invites them out for pierogi.

At Patchwork, the pastor asks Jack to share his journey of faith during a prayer circle. Jack falters, and Cas steps in. “I do know what blind faith is. I used to just follow orders. Without question. And I did some pretty terrible things. I would never look beyond the plan. Then, of course, when it all came crashing down I found myself lost. I didn’t know what my purpose was anymore. And then one day something changed. Something amazing. I guess I found a family. And I became a father. And in that, I rediscovered my faith. I rediscovered who I am.” BRB crying!

Later in the cafeteria, Jack asks Sexy Pastor, M.D. how he brought together so many people with different ideas of religion. “It’s not about what they believe. It’s what they do,” he reiterates. (I imagine, for a moment, an ending where Jack calls out to the whole world and all living creatures and Heaven and Hell unite to win the final confrontation and make a better world together.)

The tranquil moment is interrupted by the TV turning on to security feed footage of the victim. The timer runs out and she loses another finger and screams and screams. Jack rushes over to the TV and pulls out a USB stick from the back.

Meanwhile, the Winchesters dine with Amara.

They bring up Chuck’s destruction of the other universes and tell her they have a plan to stop him. They’ve got a nephilim on their side AND he’s super powerful. All they need is for Amara to help them trap Chuck and...WHAMMO. Amara gently refuses to betray her brother. She lays some new mythology on them. She and Chuck are twins - creation and destruction - and their splitting apart first brought life into the world.

Cas and Jack barge into the church’s ex-AV tech’s room. And by that, I mean, Jack gets hurled through another door? Um. Okay. The part of me that grew up with 3 Stooges is HERE FOR IT, tbh.

They discover the guy is dead, chained up in bed with cuffs, with the word “lust” painted above him.

Getting ready to leave town, Sam’s ready to accept Amara’s choice. Dean “Fuck Acceptance” Winchester heads back inside and corners Amara. He asks why she brought back Mary.

Amara tells him that she wanted him to see that the apple pie dream life he’s always striving for isn’t real - that Mary was only human - and BETTER because of that. Amara thought that would help him to accept his life. Amara also thought that having Mary back would release Dean from his anger.

He leans forward and lets her know that he’s furious. Everyone in this universe is trapped, he tells her - including her. And she’s doing nothing. Amara falters in the face of this, and then asks him if she can trust him. “I would never hurt you,” he LIES TO HER FACE. She tells him she’ll think about it.

That evening Sylvia, the pastor’s daughter, listens to her friend gush over the social media attention she’s getting after posting about the torture video. In a flash of rage, Sylvia stabs her friend and races away. Dr. Sexy Pastor finds the current (still alive) victim just as Sylvia catches up to him. She accuses him of laughing at her mother after her mother died from trying to heal by prayer rather than medical science. She accuses him of changing the church that her mother grew up in. Jack jumps into the fray and gets stabbed for his trouble. When Cas arrives, Sylvia is quickly subdued by his Vulcan forehead tap of slumber.

Cas yanks away the restraints from the victim (SOOOO strong) and then heals her fingers back on while the pastor looks on in wonder.

For So Strong Science:

Later, they gather outside while Sylvia gets taken away in cuffs. The pastor still cares about his daughter and vows to get her help. The driver of the car is Zach the crossroads demon? Oookay.

Cas and Jack drive home. In the truck of feelings, Cas asks Jack why he couldn’t share during the prayer circle. Jack confesses that he’s been lying. The spell Billie is doing with him is turning him into a bomb to be used against Chuck and Amara. It’ll work - they’ll cease to exist. But Jack will be obliterated too. “This is the only way they’ll ever forgive me,” he tells Cas.

Cas is horrified. He can’t watch Jack die again! Cas refuses to watch Jack die again, but Jack seems to have fully embraced this as his necessary fate.

Back at the bunker, Dean heads for the whiskey bottle late at night when he spots Cas shuffling towards the exit. Jack’s settled in his room, Cas reports. Cas then tells Dean he’s going to look for “another way.”

Oh AND, “In case something goes wrong and I don’t make it back, there’s something you and Sam need to know…”

FADE. TO. BLACK.

The Se7en Deadly Quotes:

You guys go Highway to Heaven that bitch

You look greener than Baby Yoda

“Did anyone find any tiny bags with chicken bones inside?” “Did anyone smell sulfur?” “Did anyone feel cold?”

There were too many cats

Where can I find the Kool-Aid?

I wanted you to see that your mother was just a person

It was a gift, Dean. Not a trial

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #cas #jack kline #spn 15x15 #gimme shelter #supernatural season 15

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argent-vulpine · 3 years

Text

Down We Go

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses

Rating: G

Characters: Seteth/Byleth

Read it on AO3!

He could not for the life of him figure out what Rhea was planning. Oh, he understood bringing Jeralt back into the fold; he’d heard many stories of the man’s tenure as captain, and with recommendations from those who’d known him, was all too happy to accept his return into the Knights, regardless of his reasons for leaving.

No, the problem Seteth was having was with Rhea’s decision to make the man’s untested, probably under-educated daughter a professor at the academy.

She simply couldn’t be trusted, which was why he had made the decision to keep an eye on her. Whatever Rhea’s reasons were – and she wasn’t sharing them – he needed to be sure that this young woman was trustworthy on his own. So he would stop and check in on her from time to time, listening to the instructions she gave her class, checking on them before and after missions, and even stopping her for chats on free days at the monastery.

He discovered, to his consternation, that she liked to fish. A lot. And that Flayn would frequently join her at the little dock, chatting away while the professor reeled in fish after fish. He knew that she would take her catches up to the dining hall for the kitchens to use, and that sometimes she would join one of the students – whether from her house or another – and cook a special meal to share with the lot.

It was also of note that she enjoyed spending some time in the greenhouse, and wandering the grounds. She would invite people to join her in the sauna – including himself, to his surprise. They said nothing, simply relaxing, and as no one treated her like this was an oddity, he had to assume this was how all her sauna visits went.

The professor liked to run, as well, he learned. It didn’t matter where. From the dormitories to the greenhouse, to the dining hall, through the gardens… it didn’t matter. She simply liked running. He caught her running across the bridge between the monastery and the cathedral in the early mornings, doing laps across the expanse before it was too crowded with people, and found that those she passed were used to this, too, greeting her as she sprinted past.

He was finding out a lot about her, in fact, and not a single shred of it made her any more suspicious. In fact, it would have been doing the opposite, if he still weren’t so bothered by her sudden and inexplicable promotion to professorship.

It wasn’t until the existence of Abyss came to light that he had any reason to suspect her at all.

Except that he’d caught her sneaking out of her room late in the evening, as he was strolling the grounds on the way to the baths, and caught sight of her slipping into a hole in a wall near her room.

Curious, he followed her into the tunnel, knowing where it would lead, but not knowing why she was going, especially at this time of night. After all, the so-called Ashen Wolves were part of her house, now, and allowed to come up to the surface for classes whenever they so desired.

By the time they’d reached the main ‘village center’ of Abyss, Byleth had vanished. He looked for her, trying to stay out of sight of Abyssians who might otherwise dislike his presence, but she was nowhere to be seen. Disgruntled, Seteth returned to the surface and continued on his original path.

--------

He watched her every night for the next two weeks, noting that while she didn’t enter Abyss every night, she did go more often than not.

Seteth did not try to follow her again, not yet, instead waiting to see how long it took before she returned. Some nights it was only an hour or two, other nights she didn’t return until near dawn, when he was yawning and struggling to stay awake.

It was severely affecting his ability to work. He found he was struggling to remain awake in meetings with Rhea and the cardinals, and drifting off in the middle of completing his paperwork. He even managed to miss lunch with Flayn on one occasion, to find her barging in and scolding him for not getting enough rest.

He was determined to get to the bottom of this. If she was up to something suspicious, then he needed to know so that he could report it to Rhea.

Determined, he prepared for another night. This time he would follow her properly. Instead of waiting outside, simply watching the tunnel, he would wait within and keep track of her that way.

--------

It took three attempts before he was able to get into the tunnel to Abyss and follow Byleth. She hadn’t gone down for a couple nights, making him wonder if he’d somehow been caught out. But then she was there, walking past his hiding place, her steps purposeful as always.

He gave it a moment before following, pulling the hood of his cloak down to further hide his unfortunately distinctive countenance. (So he might have been recognized on one foray far more easily than he’d thought. He’d learned from that.) Byleth was already a fair bit ahead of him, but it was easier to follow her this time, staying back as far as he could.

Her first stop was the Abysskeeper, getting the latest news from him, before moving on to the tavern, where she spoke with a few of the patrons there, sliding some money across the counter for a glass of what he suspected was subpar ale. She drank it anyway, chatting with the bartender. Seteth hung back, out of the tavern, and simply watched from the corridor, leaning against the wall between flickering lights and hoping the shadows were enough to conceal his identity.

Byleth remained in the tavern for a fair bit of time. Long enough to have a pint and a chat. This behavior, at least, was somewhat excusable. She’d been raised as a mercenary, after all, and while he knew she would occasionally join her father at the town’s tavern, she had likely made contacts with people in Abyss during the whole debacle when the subterranean town had been found out. Certainly she had the students here, it stood to reason there were others she spoke to as well.

From there, he watched her move to a dead end corridor (he hung far back for this) to… feed cats? Oh, he’d seen her slip some scraps to cats and dogs around Garreg Mach itself, so it shouldn’t be that surprising, but it somehow still was. She sat with them a while, giving them scraps, petting them. Sometimes one would bring her something as a gift, or she’d pry some odd item out of a mouth and then offer food as apology.

He frowned, watching, and mentally adjusted his evaluation of her. Just a little.

The rest of the night was spent in much the same manner. She helped out in the little market, stopped and spoke with children running around (and slipping them some candies). There was the library, and he itched to stop her from going in there, but he had no jurisdiction here, and trying to stop her would just make things worse. She chatted with library patrons – and he caught a flash of familiar deep green hair, the owner of which was rubbing his eyes sleepily before he waved to the professor and wandered back up to the surface.

She would stop and catch up with the Ashen Wolves. Balthus flirted as loud and boisterously as he did everything else, but Byleth dodged his efforts; he caught mention of a brawling tournament, and talking about his debts. It sounded like the professor was giving him ways to help deal with them while still having some money on the side. She spoke to Constance about magical theory, and gave Hapi a small bag of pastries from the kitchens.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, she spent the most time with Yuri, the de facto leader of the Ashen Wolves. He couldn’t quite make out what they were talking about, as they spoke in low tones to each other. That caught his attention more than anything, and he had to wonder if that was simply habit for the lavender-haired house leader, or if they were planning something and needed to keep it quiet.

He almost missed when she bade goodnight to the young man, presumably to head back to the surface for some sleep. Still, he wanted to make sure… but before he could follow after her, a shadow was upon him, pressing a blade against his throat.

“You know, I don’t take kindly to my people being tailed.” The words were said in a hard tone, a thinly veiled threat, by none other than Yuri. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but the professor is under my protection, got it?”

Seteth stared in open shock, raising his hands up to indicate he wasn’t armed, but no words came to mind.

The knife pressed a little closer, a warning. “You had really better tell me what you were doing, following her around all night.”

So he knew? Well, there had been rumors that Yuri was the brains of Abyss, and surely he had eyes and ears all over the place. Did that mean that Byleth had caught him out, too, or that she hadn’t and Yuri was looking out for her? Seteth swallowed, feeling the sharp edge of the knife on his skin. “I think it’s no surprise to anyone that I haven’t trusted her,” he finally said, moving the hood of his cloak back enough that Yuri could see his face.

The younger man scoffed, his lips twisted in a scowl, but he removed the knife. “So instead of just asking her, you decided to be a creep about it?”

“I… well…” Yuri had a point. “I had no reason to believe she would answer me truthfully.” It sounded weak even to his own ears.

“Professor’s never lied to anyone. I don’t know even think she knows how. She may not be all that willing to share on her own, but she’s no liar.” He slid the knife back into its hiding place, giving Seteth a long look. “You’d do better to just talk to her. And frankly? I don’t want to see you down here again. You church folk aren’t the most welcome here, and I won’t guarantee your safety after tonight.”

“But she is also a member of the church.”

Yuri laughed outright at that, hard enough his eyes watered. “Tell yourself that all you want. She may be a professor at that fancy church of yours, but she was a mercenary first, and that reputation is what counts down here.” He waved a hand dismissively. “She’s welcome. You aren’t. Go home to your little monastery, Seteth. And maybe actually try to talk to the professor before you go jumping to conclusions about things.”

Seteth opened his mouth, about to ask what the pair had been talking about, when he caught Yuri’s expression. The man would not be telling him, that much was certain. He sighed, admitting defeat. “Point taken.” A pause. “Ah… it might come off a little odd, I suppose, with all things considered, but… thank you for looking out for her.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not doing it for you. We take care of our own down here, and far’s any of us are concerned, she’s one of us.” The man turned and began walking away. “Balthus will make sure you find your way safely back to the surface.”

He’d been so preoccupied with Yuri that he hadn’t even noticed when the bigger man had arrived – and how did he manage that, anyway? The brawler in question grinned down at him, placing a large hand on his shoulder. “Come on, then, church man, let’s get you home all nice and safe, shall we?”

--------

It was later than he’d thought, by the time he was escorted out of Abyss, and after so many late nights, he was exhausted.

But it looked like his night wasn’t over yet. Byleth was waiting, legs dangling over the ledge of the dorm porch. Her hands were on either side of her as she leaned back, looking up at the night sky, but she straightened and glanced his way when he stepped out of the tunnel.

She didn’t look all that surprised to see who it was, and that made him hesitate, before he deflated with a sigh. “You knew?” he asked, as he approach her perch.

“You’re not the most subtle, you know. But it was a pretty standard night in Abyss for me.” Her lips quirked into an almost smirk, but it was gone quickly. “Longer than usual, actually. I was wondering if you were going to get tired and leave.”

He had the grace to flush, embarrassed. “I… I apologize. It was unbecoming of me to follow you and treat you like a criminal.”

“You don’t trust me.” She shrugged. “You’ve made that plain enough. And I can’t particularly blame you. I came here with my father, was made a professor despite not having any real qualifications. You don’t know who I am.” Her gaze narrowed, boring into him. “Whether you trust me or not is on you, but you would have gotten many more nights of rest if you had just asked.”

There was a long silence as he processed what she’d said. “You… you knew I was watching you?”

A curt nod. “Since the first night you tried to follow me. I didn’t know it was you at the time. You were very easy to shake, by the way.” Now she did move, hopping off the ledge and strolling over to him. She had to tilt her head to look up at him, but her gaze was no less steely. “I wouldn’t even care, really, if you were exhausting yourself, but it’s bothering others, and I’m not thrilled with that. Not to mention your presence around the Abyss entrance is a detriment. I’m not the only one who knew you were out here.”

“Go to bed, Seteth. Tomorrow’s a free day. Maybe you should use it to catch up on sleep.” She began to move past him, then paused, glancing over her shoulder. “And apologize to Flayn. Properly.” With that parting advice, she was off, her boot heels clicking on the stones as she wandered off.

Seteth wanted to follow, to see where she was headed at this hour, but decided against even asking. Instead, he side, sliding a hand down his face in a tired motion. There was a throbbing behind his eyes, a reminder that he’d not gotten nearly enough sleep in his pursuit of proving her to be untrustworthy. And that had only resulted in him looking the fool.

He retreated to his rooms, checking in briefly on Flayn, before writing a simple note for her that he would be resting the following day. Then, finally, he went to sleep.

--------

When he finally awoke shortly after lunch the next day, he found a tray with a simple meal of cold meats, cheese, and bread waiting for him, covered by a napkin. A note sat atop the entire thing, and he grimaced when he recognized the professor’s quick, choppy handwriting.

Flayn asked me to help make sure you were well fed on waking. Please take better care of yourself.

B. E.

He would have to thank her later. And… apologize again. Perhaps he really had been treating her more poorly than she deserved.

#Seteth Birthday Bash 2020 #Seteth #Setleth #Seteth BB Week 2020 #day 1: fatigue #Fire Emblem #Fire Emblem Three Houses #FE3H #Byleth Eisner

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tabloidtoc · 3 years

Text

People, May 3

Cover: Prince William and Prince Harry: Brothers United in Grief

Page 3: Chatter -- Steven Yeun on being asked about the Oscars never having had an Asian American Best Actor nominee before, Jessica Biel on her and Justin Timberlake's kids Silas and Phineas bonding, Viola Davis on finding success later in life, Justin Bieber on growing from previous drug use and other mistakes, John Stamos on understanding why the Olsen twins Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen didn't return to Fuller House, Catherine Zeta-Jones on her and husband Michael Douglas discouraging their kids from pursuing acting

Page 4: 5 Things We're Talking About -- Courteney Cox puts her inner Monica on display, there's a bubble tea shortage, Downton Abbey returns, Indiana Jones chooses wisely, Serena Williams aces a TV deal

Page 6: Contents

Page 8: The Academy of Country Music Awards -- Carrie Underwood, CeCe Winans

Page 9: Mickey Guyton, Thomas Rhett, Maren Morris and her husband Ryan Hurd, Elle King showed off her growing baby bump on the red carpet with pal Miranda Lambert

Page 10: Stars on Set -- Adam Driver sported a pair of statement glasses as he biked around Rome while filming the fashion biopic House of Gucci, Patrick Dempsey stayed in character while filming the thriller series Devils in Rome, Gabrielle Union flashed a peace sign as she left the L.A. set of the upcoming reimagined Cheaper by the Dozen

Page 11: Nicole Kidman embodied Lucille Ball while shooting the new Aaron Sorkin film Being the Ricardos, Reese Witherspoon brought her dog Minnie Pearl to work while filming the next season of The Morning Show in L.A., Anya Taylor-Joy wore a black jumpsuit to film a Tiffany & Co. commercial under NYC's Manhattan Bridge, Niall Horan and British pop star Anne Marie goofed off in a vintage convertible while shooting a music video in Essex, England

Page 12: StarTracks -- Pretty Little Liars star Brant Daugherty and actress wife Kim welcomed their first child together -- a son named Wilder David, Saweetie performed at the Triller Fight Club: Jake Paul vs. Ben Askren boxing match in Atlanta, Christian Bale showed off his newly shaved head during a run on the beach in Sydney where he's filming Thor: Love and Thunder, The X-Files stars Gillian Anderson and David Duchovny reunited in a selfie shared on Instagram with her dog Stella who photobombed the longtime friends

Page 14: Jennifer Lawrence and her husband Cooke Maroney made a rare public appearance together to grab an early dinner in NYC, Ricky Martin performed at the Latin American Music Awards in Sunrise, Florida, Julia Roberts as the new ambassadress for luxury brand Chopard

Page 17: Scoop -- Controversy after Colton Underwood comes out

Page 18: Pete Davidson's romance with Bridgerton's Phoebe Dynevor

Page 19: Heart Monitor -- Ashley Benson and G-Eazy back on?, Christian Siriano and Brad Walsh divorcing, Harry Connick Jr. and Jill Goodacre happy anniversary, Travis Barker and Kourtney Kardashian heating up

Page 23: Scarlett Johansson on life and love in lockdown

* Baby Boom -- J Balvin and Valentina Ferrer are expecting a baby together, Tan and Rob France on the way to being parents through a surrogate

Page 25: Ken Jeong fighting the pandemic and Asian hate

* Scott Foley on his big new moves

Page 26: Open House -- Jimmy Fallon's quirky and colorful NYC penthouse

Page 29: Wedding -- Raven Gates and Adam Gottschalk -- after postponing their wedding three times, the Bachelor in Paradise couple tie the knot in an intimate ceremony

Page 30: Passages, a Harry Potter star dies at 52 -- acclaimed British actress Helen McCrory, who played Narcissa Malfoy, died of cancer at her home, surrounded by a wave of love from friends and family, said her husband Damian Lewis

Page 31: Anguish and renewed pleas for change after a fatal traffic stop -- yet another unarmed Black man, Daunte Wright, is killed by a police officer in Minneapolis, sparking more protests nationwide

* Why I Care -- as chairman of the Motion Picture Television Fund (MPTF), award-winning producer Jeffrey Katzenberg helps raise millions to support colleagues in the entertainment industry

Page 32: Stories to make you smile -- a baby girl and her puppy double up on cuteness, a 12-year-old raises money to buy laptops for kids in need

Page 35: People Picks -- Shadow and Bone

Page 36: Home Economics, One to Watch -- Kung Fu's Olivia Liang

Page 37: Things Heard & Seen, Life in Color with David Attenborough

Page 38: The Mitchells vs. the Machines, Couples Therapy

Page 39: A Black Lady Sketch Show, Eric Church -- Heart & Soul, Q&A with Chelsea Frei

Page 41: Books

Page 42: Cover Story -- Prince William and Prince Harry united in grief -- after a difficult year apart, the brothers come together to honor their grandfather Prince Philip

Page 50: Jennifer Lopez and Alex Rodriguez -- why they couldn't make it work -- after four years together, the power couple are officially split. What went wrong, and what's next for the stars

Page 52: Vanished: Help Us Find These Kids -- the families of these missing children desperately hope to find them, and authorities could be just one clue away from bringing them home

Page 59: Tom Jones -- life is more precious every day -- the music legend opens up about healing after losing his wife of 59 years to cancer, and why he never wants to slow down

Page 62: Julianna Margulies -- what I know now -- from a tumultuous childhood to fame and fortune (and crushing on George Clooney along the way), the wife, mom and Emmy winner, now out with a memoir, reflects on her lucky life

Page 66: Cindy McCain -- love, loss and life after John -- three years after John McCain's death, his widow shares the ups and downs of life at his side, and how she's finally coming into her own

Page 70: Michael B. Jordan -- I'm in a great place -- halfway into his reign, the Sexiest Man Alive is living his action-movie dream, and he's in love

Page 75: Why I'm Grateful for the Vaccine -- a double dose of destiny -- their 1955 polio vaccinations made the local news. Now they're married, and celebrating their COVID-19 vaccines

Page 77: Mother's Day Gift Guide -- celebrity moms choose perfect presents to give (and get) -- Kate Hudson

Page 78: Ayesha Curry

Page 80: Amanda Kloots

Page 83: Spring's Big Jewelry Trend -- beaded pieces are everywhere right now

Page 88: One Last Thing -- Elizabeth Perkins

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sanders-sides-fic · 4 years

Text

Hunters and pray(ing)

So, I talked to my younger brother about the prompt-thingy. My brother doesn’t watch Sanders Sides and avoids English with a passion (it’s our secondary language), but he still made a request. So, even though he will never read this: “Are you stupid? Or just randomly suicidal?” and “Careful, there are Vampires around here” with, and I quote, »the purple one, the snake-guy and the one who does that thing with his arms«

XD Enjoy.

Virgil hated whenever Janus did something like that. He was supposed to be the one in charge, he was supposed to be careful. Not… Whatever that was!

Then again, Virgil may or may not be a perfect example on what not to do, as well. After all, he hadn’t left their new house since they had moved in, not even for the sake of buying new clothes. But that didn’t matter, he’d just used some of the fabric from an old cloak he couldn’t wear anymore anyways and had patched his outfit up. He kinda liked it. Actually, he felt way more comfortable in the worn, customized hoody than he had with any of the high-price stuff Janus felt to be appropriate.

But that wasn’t the point.

The point was that Janus was ignoring all the flashing lights and for what? He just didn’t get it. Why was it so important to Janus to always look perfectly put together at all times? Why was it so important that he had to go into the city, right amongst the ones they had to fear the most, every other day. Appearance had always been a huge deal to him, Virgil guessed, but not to that extent. Maybe because they were new or something like that?

No. No, Virgil couldn’t believe that. Janus was a smooth talker, a slick bastard and a cunning schemer. Janus lied like it was his second nature. Janus was untrustworthy and, yes, at times also back-stabbing. He was impulsively loyal, fiercely vindictive, specifically prideful and his moral compass mostly seemed like a fucking roulette wheel, but the one thing Janus was not was dumb. Dense, maybe, but not dumb. He knew when a risk wasn’t worth it.

So there had to be a reason why Janus went into town all the time. Virgil knew that there had to be. But he had confronted Janus before and, as always, received an outrageous lie as an answer. That and a half-hearted promise not to go for the next few weeks. A promise he’d never intended to keep, as Virgil and he had both known very well.

Virgil looked at the clock in the back the room. It was fairly late, almost five in the morning. And yet Janus wasn’t back still.

That was something that had happened more and more lately, too. Janus never named a reason or anything, but he went out in the early evening hours and would return way too late. Sometimes even injured. He never used to come back hurt, never used to be this careless.

Virgil bit his lip, wanting nothing more than to slap Janus for being home late, again. Seriously, what could be more important than to come back to-

A sudden thought occurred to Virgil, making him stop his pacing back and forth dead in his tracks. No. No, not Janus. Right? Janus wouldn’t get this caught up over some… some guy, would he?

Sure, he had had many lovers before, but every single one of those had been disposable to him. Some even just means to some end, if Virgil remembered correctly. But Janus had never really been in love. He had been loved, but he had never put anyone on equal footing or, perish the thought, even above himself. Even Virgil, who had known Janus basically his entire life, could barely reach thought to him. There was no way Janus had fallen that hard, to actually endanger himself and his family, was there?

…

He didn’t take a coat as he ran outside as fast as he could, just following the street Janus would always take. It took him about five minutes that way to reach the small town close to their new home. He knew Janus had been exaggerating! But that wasn’t what he was here to do. He was here for Janus, to make sure Janus hadn’t gone and done the one thing that had even landed them in this situation.

It took a long time to find him. Longer than he wold have expected, which made it pretty clear that Janus didn’t want to be found. He had been on the verge of giving up and returning home for the night, hoping Janus had done the same already, when he saw him. The young man he considered to be his brother was leaning against a wall, clearly amused. His gloved hands twirled his hat around, the black vest had moved up ever so slightly above the yellow button-up, and Virgil couldn’t help the snicker. As per usual, Janus looked like a mafiosi standing in that dark ally, possibly as suspicious as that would have been possible for a man in a suit at all. And Virgil mistrusted most men in suits.

But, there was also someone with him. Someone with the back to him, so Virgil couldn’t see him properly. But he could make out the brown hair. It looked neatly trimmed and pushed back smoothly. Judging from his back, Virgil would have guessed that the other man lived uptown. A good, stable household. The worst kinds of people, if anyone asked him.

He made a point of not listening in on their conversation, but he didn’t let them out of his sight either. Janus looked happy, or at least he was enjoying himself. Virgil could appreciate that about the stranger. After all, with what had happened, Janus had been tense for quite some time. Thinking about it now, Vigil realized that Janus had been a bit more relaxed lately. Less frustrated and more playful. That hadn’t happened since Remy…

Well, there was a good reason for them to be tense and on the other end of the globe now.

It was close to sunrise when Janus said something and pointed in the direction of a shop. Judging that it would be safe to listen in without disrespecting Janus’ privacy too much, Virgil stopped dulling his senses. “-so my roommate doesn’t get worried. Well, more worried, I suppose. He’s always anxious.”, Janus laughed silently. Virgil huffed in annoyance. As if he hadn’t seen through that tactic long ago. Janus didn’t even try anymore at this point, just bringing back a single, random article. “I’ll be right back, alright?”

“Or, just a thought, you could talk to him.” The strangers voice was thick and rich, like a singer’s voice. Thinking about it now, he also had a great posture, like an actor on a stage. Oh, great. As though Virgil didn’t have enough dramatic people in his life already.

“I will. I promise I will”, Janus replied, making Virgil clench his teeth. Such a liar. “as soon as he’s gotten used to life in America. He’s shaken from that fire still.”

“Oh, the mysterious fire I’ve heard so much and nothing about. Will you ever tell me what actually happened?”

Janus only laughed and waved as he walked into the shop he had pointed at before. Some sort of candle store by the looks of it. Oh, God. Please, not another scented candle!

Virgil sighed deeply as he watched his ‘roommate’, apparently, walk away. Maybe he should go take a closer look at the stranger? See what kind of person Janus had fallen for? Just to make sure it was safe, of cause, the curiosity wasn’t any part of the reason he wanted to do that at all.

Nah, he should probably get back. If Janus wanted to end up a pile on the floor, that was his decision. He himself would much rather go back to sleep or have a nice meal right about now. Besides, it could be dangerous to go talk to a stranger in a strange town in a strange country. Yeah, really didn’t seem like a fail-safe plan to Virgil.

So he naturally put his hands into his pockets, looked for cars and crossed the street, right to where the stranger was standing.

The stranger’s brown eyes meet Virgil’s storm grey ones. He was pretty, Virgil had to leave him that. And he had a color coordinated outfit, which didn’t matter much to Virgil, but was probably a huge plus for Janus.

“Uhm, hi? Can I help you with something?”, the stranger asked. Virgil looked him up and down and nodded his head slowly. “Yes… I kinda got lost and I’ve been wandering around for most of the night. Do you know the direction to the highway, by any chance?”

“What?!”, the nameless stranger asked shocked, his eyes visibly widening, “The entire night? Oh, lord! You have to be more-”

“Responsible? I know. My whole family seems to have that problem lately.”, Virgil interrupted annoyed, looking for a way look into the stranger’s eyes deep enough to question him.

“No. Careful. There are vampires around here, you know?”

And that made Virgil freeze up. He knew? The humans knew? How did they find out?! Had Janus been even more careless than he had thought? Had Janus maybe even confessed? No. No, surely Janus wasn’t that stupid. No way.

“Oh? Doesn’t the church usually take care of things like that?”, Virgil asked, paranoia creeping into his mind. Had there been anyone there tonight who might have figured him out? Anyone who could follow him and stick a pole through them while they slept today? He didn’t think so, but he hadn’t payed attention either. Well, fuck.

“Yes, we usually do. And we did. We have a non-aggression pact with them, though it’s anonymous. Still, you have to be careful with creatures like that. They have… prejudges. Justified prejudges maybe, but they still often attack first and ask questions later, you know?”

What. The. Fuck?! Who the hell was it having prejudges now, idiot? But Virgil forced himself to remain calm. “So, what do you do to be careful? Wear a cross or something?” Most of the things humans thought to be helpful were rubbish, but some of them actually worked. If he was unlucky, he wouldn’t be able to hypnotize the stranger, and then it would only blow his cover and he would know about Janus and they would end up like Remy and-

“No, that doesn’t really work. Best is just not to be out on the streets so late. Well, not alone anyways. I usually go with a friend of mine, but he’s in the store right now.”

Okay, good. If he was quick about it, he might actually be able to pull this off. So Virgil took a deep breath, took the stranger’s face in his hand and forced the eye contact, with a smirk. “I see. You will do as I say and answer al my questions, then.” The stranger barely had any time to gasp in shocked recognition before his body went lax.

“Good. Now, who are you?” “My name is Roman Royals.”

“How old are you?” “Nineteen years.”

“And you are completely human?” “Yes.”

“Do you know Janus?” “I do.”

“What is he to you?” “My boyfriend.”

“And is Janus human?” “Yes.” Virgil let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding when he heard that answer. So at least Janus hadn’t told him anything.

“Okay, last question: You just said ‘we’ when you talked about the church. Why?” “My father’s the priest there.”

Well, fuck. Did Janus know? Probably, he did a background check on the barista he gets his coffee from now. So why did he stick around Roman if he knew? What kind of bullshit was he pulling here? Virgil sighed heavily. “I see. Well, you will forget this ever happened. You just told me where to go and I was on my way. Got it?”

Roman nodded absentmindedly and Virgil let the hypnosis drop, sprinting home without checking that Roman actually forgot what had happened. He just had to get away from there, away from Roman, the priest’s son.

Shock turned to fear pretty fast, and fear to terror. Terror turned into a lack of air and that lack of air turned into helplessness. It was unfortunate that Janus came home right when that helplessness just finished its slow transformation to rage. Not unfortunate for Virgil, but certainly unfortunate for Janus. And Janus could tell the moment he closed the door and locked eyes with Virgil.

For a few moments everything was silent. Then, Virgil pointed out in a voice colder than ice: “You’re late. From happy hour to blue hour, again.” Janus nodded slowly. “Yes… I lost track of time.”

Virgil didn’t even acknowledge that lie with a response, which told Janus enough about how damn angry he had to be. So Janus gave a nervous smile, swallowing dry. They both knew how dangerous Virgil could be if he wanted to. He had always been their best fighter, amongst other dangerous but useful qualities. Janus cleared his throat. “Right. As you said, Virge, it’s pretty late, so I should probably go to bed. Good day.”

“Don’t”, Virgil interrupted Janus’ fast retreat dead in his tracks, making his friend stop dead in his tracks, “lie to me, Janus. I know about him.”

“What?” The question was a mere whisper, probably even imperceptible to the human ear. But neither of them were human, were they? That was kind of the problem, so Virgil certainly heard. He didn’t answer, though, only looked Janus dead into his eyes. So Janus asked again, this time a little louder though still full of shocked uncertainty: “What do you mean?”

“I mean”, Virgil answered through clenched teeth as he stalked forward towards Janus, “I know what you’ve been up to every night. I mean I know about your stupid ass decision. I mean, Janus, that I know about the Royals boy.”

“How do you know about Roman? You never even leave the house!”

“For good reason! Or have you forgotten why we came here at all? Have you forgotten about the fire that did that” - Virgil pointed uncharacteristically expensively to the light burn marks on the side of Janus’s face that started to stand out more in the morning light - “to you? And then you go and, what, jump at the first decent looking human you can find?”

“No! Of cause I didn’t forget. But this is fine, we’re fine, we’re safe, I promise.”, Janus was quick to defend, but it didn’t do him any good. Virgil only let out a humorless laugh.

“Oh? Is it? You are always out with a human, whose family runs the church no less, and come back so close to dawn that you arrive seriously injured. So, please, tell me, Janus, are you stupid?! Or just randomly suicidal? Which one is it, huh?!”

“Really, Virgil. I’m being honest right now.”, Janus insisted, even taking off his gloves to show the trembling hands underneath and painting a cross above his heart. “He… Roman, isn’t like that. He’s different. This is different. You have to believe me!”

“Funny. That’s what Remy said, too. And then the fucking house was brunt down by the fucking human. Tell me, how did that go? Hm? Where’s our coven now? Our home?! It’s only you, me, and the two unconscious brothers upstairs that’s left!”

Janus tried and failed to hide the pain that crossed his face remembering that night, whispering: “No one could have seen that coming…”

“I did!”, Virgil cried angrily and desperate, ”I did, and you didn’t listen to me, and now it’s happening again, and you don’t listen to me again, do you?!”

A beat passed by before either of them did anything again. It was Janus who moved first, straightened his back defiantly and moved out of his defensive position, crossing his arms and shaking his head slightly. “No, I will not. And I don’t have to, either. In case you forgot, I am the leader of this coven, so I get to decide. Maybe I should have listened to you back then, but that was back then and now is right now. This conversation is over.”

“It’s not.”, Virgil sighed defeatedly. He didn’t make eye contact anymore but watched the sun rise through the protective glass instead. “I won’t stand around and watch this happening again. If you don’t end things with him, I will end things with you.”

“Are you… Virgil, is that an ultimatum? Are you making me choose between you and him?”, Janus asked in disbelieve. He wanted to get angry at Virgil, but he could see the pained expression on his friend’s face. His shoulders were shaking and tears started to silently race down his face, as he whispered with a broken voice: “I just can’t see that happen again, Jan. I’m sorry, but I just… Just, please.”

Janus sighed. “How long have you known me for, Virgil? Six-hundred years?” “Five-hundred-thirty-five. Since the fourteen-eighties.”, Virgil nodded absentmindedly.

“Right.”, Janus softly continued, drawing soothing circled on Virgil’s back. ”I got us through the times of the witch trials, I got us through two world wars, I got us through the development of photography and videos. I protected us from werewolves, aristocrats, christian fanatics, fanatic civilians, homophobes and even nazis. So why would you ever mistrust me?”

“Because you are a liar by nature.”, Virgil answered without missing a beat. But he also sighed, leaning against Janus. “But… It’s not you I have troubles trusting.”

“Only because you don’t know him yet. Roman won’t hurt us.”, Janus insisted again

Virgil scoffed: “He’s human.”

“So where you. But I gave you a chance, didn’t I? When everyone was avoiding you because your mother used to be a witch?”

The silence dragged on and on, until Virgil finally pulled away and walked towards the stairs. “I’m gonna hit the hay, tonight was fucking exhausting.”

“Virgil?” Janus’ voice was so soft and breakable right now, so very vulnerable, and Virgil couldn’t even bare to look at him. So he sighed, almost out of sight, hesitating before finally saying: “One dinner. Tell him I’ll cook dinner for us the night after tomorrow, nine in the afternoon. He’ll get his chance to make me trust him then, and if he does he can stay. But that’s all he gets, just that one dinner.”

And then he left, leaving a smiling, somewhat relieved Janus down in the entrance hall. Now all he had to do was tell Roman. And maybe, in time, the two most important people in his life would actually get along some time soon. He sure hoped they would. But for now, a chance was good enough.

For now.

Masterpost: here

Prompt-chart and one-shots: here

Taglist: @gattonero17

#I forgot to do the tags again #damn #I gotta remember that #like it’s not that hard #people won’t even see this otherwise #who decided to make me an adult?#I can write about death and torture and blood but I can’t even remember to tag shit #but oh well #enough with the conversations down here #sanders sides #roman sanders #virgil sanders #Janus Sanders #sanders side fic #vampire au #one shot prompts #fan fiction #sanders sides au #angst

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