#she is watching him run around in circles and scaling walls in the middle of the night when he should be sleeping | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

arminty7 · 3 years

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𝘚𝘸𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘞𝘪𝘯𝘦

Mermaid!Jungkook x Reader [Part 3]

Trapped in this life of expensive wine and judgemental eyes Y/N met an unusual lady who offered her a job at an aquarium a few towns away. Despite being hesitant and uncertain for the future she decided to take the offer as it was her only way out, not knowing that many dangers might come her way.

Jungkook swam his way through the small tunnel in wonder. He didn’t realise what he was ‘walking’ into as he took the entire night to explore a tunnel. He thought it might lead to you, how naive. It is only when he heard the piercing sound of drilling from the small tunnel entrance did he know what was happening, he was trapped. With that, his instincts took over.

Chapter: #3 Swimming in Wine

Words: 4843

Warnings: Mild Swearing // Fluff // Eventual Smut? Idk maybe depends // Jungkook obsessive // Evil Namjoon (im sorry guys) // It might be a little messed up.

AN - It's been a while. I know.

This work shall not be copied, reproduced, translated and/or modified in any way without my permission. In a case where this might happen, legal action will be taken as it would be a criminal act under the law and breaching these terms. Upon reading my work you are acknowledging that this work is mine and that you know the consequences if this work is copied, reproduced, translated and/or modified in any way without my permission.

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It was early in the morning when the sun started to creep its way into the room. You were sitting on your bed and surprisingly enough, you were already awake. You never used to be such an early bird, but throughout these past few nights, you would wake up drenched in sweat. No matter how hard you tried you couldn't stop thinking about the incident on the cliff. Upon sleeping, you could almost feel the arms of the creature wrapped around you, like its haunting touch has placed a permanent mark on you. When thinking about it more deeply, it felt human to you. The arms of a human, but its touch too deeply pressed on your skin: the coldness you felt, reached down to your bones. It was like death was clinging onto you, with you as its life source.

"Hey Y/N? You up?" You heard a whisper and you saw Julie poking her head through the door as she opened it slightly. You look over at her with a relaxed expression and a soft smile.

"Yeah, I'm already up. Did you want to go and get a coffee near the waterfront before dropping me off to work?" You stand up from your bed and start fixing the blankets and pillows.

"Yeah that sounds like a good idea, let me go get my bag and we can leave soon." She spoke as she left the room, closing the door but not all the way.

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Looking out onto the ocean, it felt calm today. Although the tranquillity that you felt while looking out onto the shore exhibited a chaotic kind of peace. The calm before the storm. You could feel it, the anger of the waves crashing down and the freeing nature of the water wanting to come out. But it held restraint, it couldn't do anything even if it tried. Something was missing but you didn't know what. All you knew was that the feeling you had felt when looking out towards the ocean, changed somehow. The calm waters seemed too good to be true.

You sat there at the coffee shop across from the beach near where you work. The smell of sea-salt and fish mixed with coffee seemed like a horrible combination, but the locals were used to it. You found comfort in the idea that you might get used to it too. The coffee that you held in your hands was hot against the cool air. You sipped your coffee while waiting for Julie to come back with her usual morning cravings of insatiable sweet pastries.

“So, tell me. Have you made any work friends? Any of them cute?” Julie sat down across from you, taking you away from your thoughts. You looked over at her and chuckled, rolling your eyes.

“I have made some friends, not many but hopefully that will change in time” You smiled slightly looking out at the ocean again, feeling yourself get distracted but not with anything in particular. "Well it’s your first day today so make sure to stay on your toes, but don't overwork yourself," Julie spoke while her mouth is full of sweet dough-like pastries, more focused on the icing coating the top of her lips, not realising that you have been spacing out this entire time.

Thankfully you're good at multi-tasking and you chuckle at her comment, "It’s funny, people keep forgetting that I have worked at an aquarium before you know? It's not that much of a big deal." You sip your coffee but immediately placed it back down on the table, it was too sweet.

You look at your watch, realising its time to go. Plus, you would rather be at work than trying to have a normal conversation with her, you know she's trying but she's not your caretaker or mother, she doesn't need to try so hard.

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As you walk through the entrance of the Aquarium you could immediately feel the difference in atmosphere from the other day. The busy environment that you knew so well back home at the aquarium suddenly felt familiar. The buzzing sounds of life engulfed the reception as many families and residents were chatting away while waiting in line. Kids nagging at their parents and young couples looking at each other lovingly while waiting in line. There were not many people though as it was early, and it wasn't officially open for another 30 minutes.

You walked past them towards the reception and saw Seokjin who looked busy talking to the people in line. He glanced over at you and he made an expression as if he remembered something.

"Ah Y/N, Jimin told me to tell you to wait for him at the food court at the bar. You'll be working with him today. Taehyung is meant to be here, but he called in sick". You nodded, silently chuckling to yourself as Taehyung probably just called in sick because he was "too busy" or had some "emergency". While in reality, he's probably watching a new season of a drama he recently got addicted to.

You head your way to the food court after you say goodbye to Seokjin. It seemed quiet in the food court but simultaneously busy as workers prepared for the day. You could see some workers running around in their little cafes or tourist shops as you walk towards the main bar. You could hear your heels hit the glassy floor, echoing as it bounced off the wall of the gigantic room.

The bar had no one in it. You suppose it didn't open till later in the day. It was weird to you, you have never seen an Aquarium that had a bar before. Mind you, you never really travelled anywhere so you wouldn't know if it's a common thing to have at Aquariums.

You sat on the stool, looking at the giant tank circling the entire food court, acting as a wall around the large room. You tried to look through it to see how far it went but all you could see was the light blue ocean that seemed almost endless. Some small school fish could also be seen swimming in the tank. It felt as though you were in the middle of the ocean. All alone.

In contrast to the light blue colour that is seen throughout the rest of the room, the small tank that was built into the wall behind the bar looked darker and overgrown. It was a very small square tank that resembled a small window. You could barely see through it, a thick layer of algae covering the glass, it looked so dark in there. Maybe it was connected to another section of the aquarium, perhaps it even descended underground?

You shivered and looked around the food court, were you being watched? You could feel the sudden nervousness tingling throughout your body.

It was a weird feeling that came upon you, an icy cold feeling of loneliness like the air had suddenly shifted. The voices of the other workers in the food court were drifting away and you were slowly slipping away from reality. An alluring voice crept into your ear, singing an enchanting but hypnotising harmony. Somehow you could sense that it wasn't one of the workers for the voice sounded too angelic, too sweet to even be real. Your bones were chilled as you sensed the familiar feeling of cold strong arms enveloping around your waistline and chest as if you were reliving the moment by the cliff. You could physically feel it, its touch… his touch. Closing your eyes, you could feel the cold sharp wind from that moment above the water as it brushed against your cheeks. The creature’s hot breath giving you some type of warmth in the moment, yet it felt unknown to you. Mortality was clutching you in its hands, but you felt so safe. Like it was saving you despite drowning you at the same time.

You shook your head, awaking from the trance that you were in. Glancing back over at the tank behind the bar and you saw a dark figure in the water. It stayed there looking through the algae ridden glass. You could only see a face, black and blue scales on its cheekbones and jaw. It looked human, but at the same time, you knew it wasn't. Its alluring golden eyes, shining in the water, staring into your own. Its eyes were soulless.

By the time you blinked, it was gone.

You stood up, wanting to go closer to the small tank behind the bar. Making your way behind the bar, you were stopped by a strong hand pulling your shoulder back. "What are you doing here?" You turned to see a man who held your shoulder with a firm grip, his eyes staring straight into yours.

Oh, if looks could kill.

"I uhh.." Your mind went blank as you stepped back a bit, away from the man. He looked annoyed while you struggled to let the words out. By this time, you forgot what just happened moments ago.

"Answer my question" He spoke quietly but sternly, letting go of your shoulder but moving a step closer to make sure you can't run away.

"I was waiting for-"

"Yoongi-Hyung, what are you doing?? Leave the poor girl alone, you'll give her a heart attack" You sighed in relief as you saw Jimin walk up to the bar.

'You know this girl?" He spoke in a serious tone, you remembered what Taehyung said earlier about the Bartender, I guess this is him.

Jimin nodded, leaning on the bar. "Her name is Y/N, she's the new recruit Hoseok was telling us about" Jimin looks over at you with a charming smile while you take the opportunity to escape the bar and onto Jimin's side.

Yoongi looked at you and then back at Jimin, "well get outta here will you, the aquarium opens up soon”.

You nodded and Jimin just smirks before looking over at you "Come on Y/N, we have a busy day ahead of us" He stands up, grabbing your hand, giving you his signature smile before leading you out of the food court and down the hall.

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Third Person POV

"I can't believe we are opening up the aquarium a day after we caught it, what if it escapes?!" Hoseok looked down at the ground continuously tapping his foot on the ground as he leaned on the bookshelf in the office. Namjoon sat there in the chair in front of him.

"Don't worry, it can't escape" Namjoon reassured him and then continued.

"We have reason to believe it got stuck in an old tunnel filled with water that was built throughout the aquarium. We constructed the tunnel ages ago for the public and we were going to add glass windows to it, so you can look through the tunnel. However, the construction wasn't going as planned and we halted the idea."

"So, it's just swimming in a small tunnel throughout the aquarium walls with no way out? Like a maze? In pitch-black darkness?" Hoseok widened his eyes, he never heard of such a thing.

"You have nothing to worry about, the tunnel that he swam through to get in the aquarium was connected to the ocean, but we blocked it off as soon as we found out he swam in it. He's stuck in there."

"Are you certain? Have you swum through the tunnel yourself? How do you know there's no other way he can reach the other aquariums for the public to see?" Hoseok said, his voice raised. He walked up to the front of the desk, his hands crossed, Namjoon could sense his doubt radiating off of him.

"Before this place was opened to the public, I got some divers to check it out, it has no pockets or windows. It's pitch black down there" he tried to reassure Hoseok again. Namjoon looked up at Hoseok and he nodded, uncrossing his arms.

"Let's hope he doesn't go too crazy down there, we'll have to get him out soon." He continued, "Oh, by the way, Jackson called. He said yes to the deal." Hoseok

"Good. We will prepare the creature for transport soon".

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It was a busy day.

You sat off to the side as Jimin stood in his wetsuit on the platform of the dolphin's tank. He had a big smile stretched across his face as he instructed the dolphins while the crowd watched from the bleachers. With every flick of his hand, the dolphins would jump up in the air and the echoes of cheering would fill the small arena. You had a bucket of fish with you and you watched as each dolphin would come up to you after doing a trick. You sat on the side of the tank, you were visible to the public eye, but they weren't paying attention to you. It was sad really, you knew what went on in aquariums. How ironic that you want to be free yourself when working at an establishment that rejects freedom. You looked at the next dolphin that swam your way, it seemed weaker than the others. You went closer to the tank and sat on the edge. It slowly swam up to you, it was at that very moment that you saw a gash stretched out on its back. It wasn't bleeding, and you could easily see that it’s been there for a while.

You looked up at Jimin in worry although he didn't take notice. He held the microphone as he catered to the audience. You looked back at the dolphin and reached a fish from the bucket. Perhaps it was self-inflicted somehow. You heard that stuff can happen in aquariums. You watched the dolphin gently swim away, back down into the water, following the strict routine that was given to them before the show.

After the show ended, you still couldn't get that dolphin out of your head. Its empty expression in its eyes is still burned in your mind. All the hope and optimism you once associated with dolphins was now gone.

You stood there in the tiny tin room out the back of the aquarium near the dolphin tank, cleaning buckets of fish that were now empty. Jimin left you and went to go help another co-worker and gave you the task of cleaning out buckets that radiated the smell of decaying fish. You remember the innocent smile he gave you when he asked you for this little favour. It was your job, you couldn't say no - and he knew that.

"Thanks, Y/N! I owe you" Jimin yelled out, waving his hand as he ran off.

It was around 4 pm when you finished cleaning. Your body felt tired from the long day and you and Jimin were headed to the bar.

As you stepped into the food court the feeling you had before suddenly crept through your body. You shivered, and a sudden feeling of dread came upon you. It was weird, you didn't even think about the incident after it happened. Like you suddenly forgot about it. But now, as you slowly walk up towards the bar, you felt a chill encompassed around your bones.

Jimin sat down on the stool on the bar and placed a hand under his chin. He looked up at Yoongi with a smirk, "So, how's business?". Yoongi took a glance up at the both of you and looked back down again, wiping the bar down.

"It was pretty slow today. It was weird, I expected more people to come" Yoongi said quietly. You sat down next to Jimin and crossed your arms over the bar, letting your head rest gently on your arms.

"Hey, I just cleaned that" Yoongi looked over at you but after the day you had, you couldn't care less. You replied with a monotone "sorry" but stayed in your current position. He could tell that you were tired and surprisingly enough, he didn't push it.

"So, you remember that key I gave to you right? The one I found?" Jimin straightened up at Yoongi's words and looked over at you for a split second.

"Yeah I remember, what about it?" Yoongi sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well I need it back" Jimin looked confused, "but I thought you found it, that it had no meaning to you. That's why you gave it to me in the first place"

Yoongi sighed, "To be honest it was actually Hoseok's. I was curious to know what it's for, so I gave it to you. I didn't realise you wouldn't tell me after you found out. Still, after all these years, you haven't told me! To think, I was the one who gave you the key in the first place". Yoongi grabbed a glass from under the bar and shoved some ice in it before filling it up with apple juice. He passed it to you as if to tell you that he still remembers that you're here.

Jimin rolled his eyes, "Yeah, you gave me the key because you were too lazy to figure it out on your own".

"The point is, I need it. Where is it?" Yoongi looked somewhat anxious as he wiped down the bar for the third time.

Jimin shrugs, reaching his arm over to take your drink from the table that you haven't touched.

It’s too sweet. He sipped it casually and looked over at you before landing his eyes towards Yoongi again. "I don't know, I threw it away, I found no use for it".

Yoongi crossed his arms frowned, "that's bullshit, you are lying, and you know it, you've always been a bad liar". Yoongi then looks at you, your arms still crossed as you lay your head there, if they didn't know any better, they would have assumed you were asleep. Except you laid there, silently listening.

Jimin then also frowns, "look I don't know what to tell you, it's been years since you gave me that thing. The truth is, I lost it." Jimin looks up at Yoongi but Yoongi scoffs.

"So, you threw it away or lost it? Come on Jimin, just give it to me, I know you have it". Yoongi looked right through Jimin's eyes, you looked over at both of them, you could tell there was tension in the air.

Jimin was silent and Yoongi sighed grabbing the drink that you obviously weren’t going to finish and pouring it into the sink before placing the glass in the dishwasher under the bar.

Yoongi spoke quietly but you could tell that his words held a lot of weight, "Promise me".

Jimin looked up, "I don't get why you are so obsessed with this key, I don't even have it!"

"Promise me that you don't have it" Yoongi looked at him, his facial expression was the look of hurt more than anything. You could tell that there was more to this than what Yoongi was letting on. You sat there next to them, waiting for Jimin to spill the beans about giving the key to you.

Jimin was hesitant for a second before strongly responding, "I promise I don't have it." Yoongi stood there silent before nodding, mumbling a soft "sorry" under his lips before going back to cleaning the bar, even though he already finished.

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"I can't believe you lied for me," You spoke as you walked around the dolphin tank outside, Jimin walking beside you.

"I didn't lie. I don't have it. You do." Jimin smiled at you brightly, although you could tell that something was bothering him. You both kept walking before Jimin looked at his watch, "I'm sorry I got to go, feel free to stay here as long as you want, Namjoon doesn't mind us staying after hours. Although you do realise our shift ended an hour ago, right?" Jimin smiled brightly as he looked down at you, his eyes shining in the moonlight.

You chuckled, "Yes I knew, I just like your company. Thanks for being there for me. I haven't known you long, but you made me feel comfortable on my first day" You smiled, it seemed like you and Jimin were going to become really good friends.

"I'll always be here Y/N... Anyways I'll see you at work tomorrow yeah? Have a nice night" Jimin waved goodbye and walked away.

You sighed, reaching for the key from your pocket.

"Might as well check it out while I still can?" You thought.

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It was late, really late and you found yourself questioning Jimin's earlier statement about being allowed here after hours. You wandered through the halls of the aquarium, following the directions Jimin and Taehyung showed you last time, careful not to make any loud noises to gain any attention.

The halls were cold, and you could hear were the sounds of your heels tapping against the hard floor. While walking, you felt your chest become heavy, looking around you started to hear weird sounds coming from the walls. You shrugged it off however, you've been in aquariums long enough to know that it could be anything and that it's never completely quiet.

Finally reaching your destination you head down the metal steps. You've never been to this part of the building apart from when Jimin and Taehyung took you, you suppose it's for private personnel only. Continuing down the steps you reach the door to the moonpool, the sounds of water can be heard dripping and sloshing from behind. Inserting the keys and turning the metal handle you slowly walked inside. It was darker than the last time you saw it. What was surprising was the glow worms on the roof of the moonpool illuminating the moonpool and stone walls that surrounded it. You didn't see them during the day. They were beautiful.

Walking along the gravel towards the moonpool, you took off shoes your socks and placed your backpack next to the moonpool. You sat on the edge, dipping your legs in as you rolled up your pants, so they don't get wet. You closed your eyes, feeling the water reach up to your kneecaps. The water was lukewarm, and the smell of sea salt radiating off of it.

What a long day.

If you were being honest, all of this was too much for you. You never thought you would say this, but you miss home. You miss Marina's cooking and weirdly enough, you miss your mother. She hasn't called, even texted since you left. You felt like you thought this would be different, the people here are nice but every so often you get reminded about the flaws of this world, the treatment of animals, – the dolphin – the uneasiness you felt about Julie and her intentions. Even Jimin and Yoongi, you didn’t want to cause a fight between them because of some stupid key.

The water had suddenly started to turn cold, starting from your feet you feel a rush of icy water spread to your knees, eliminating any prior warmth you felt. The dripping stopped, the sloshing of the water halted. You opened your eyes curiously to see a figure from the other side of the moonpool staring right at you. You looked right in its eyes. Time stopped, and you could barely see anything else but the wide golden piercing gaze of the creature. You sat there frozen in place. You don't know how long you stayed like this for, but it took a while to realise what was happening. It didn't say a word, but you could tell by its knowing facial expression that it somehow knows who you are. Looking down in the now murky water you could see an outline of a human’s body, his muscles and broad shoulders prominent underneath the dark blue scales that stretched over its torso. You continued to examine the long outline of a tale - a big tale at that - with the front looking slimy however you could guess that the back of the tale was sharp enough to cut through any piece of flesh that it would encounter. One aspect of the creature that seemed almost beautiful were some parts of his scales that were brighter than others, acting as a highlighter around his cheekbones and arms.

You didn't want to make any sudden movements, frightened that the creature would drag you under. Eat you. Kill you. You decided that it was now or never and spoke quietly under your breath, looking back up at its eyes that never left yours. "Hi, my name is Y/N". Your breath was shaky, and your lips were dry.

"It probably can't even understand you," You thought to yourself.

The creature stopped staring into your eyes and lowered its focus to your legs that were swaying in the water. You shivered, the cold air getting to you. Goosebumps appeared on your legs and arms and you could have sworn you sore the remnant of a smirk that appeared on its lips.

You suddenly had an idea.

Carefully, you looked up at the creature, "I'm just going to grab something out from my backpack, okay?" Slowly you stretched your arm out towards your backpack while maintaining eye contact with the creature. The creature stayed still, however you knocked something metal in your bag and it made a loud noise that echoed throughout the moonpool. The creature’s facial expression turned darker and it went full force towards you, grabbing your calves as it didn't let you go. It was close to your face, its golden eyes peering into yours as you could feel its grip and claws on your legs tighten, its body between your thighs leaning in on you. You breathed in slowly, feeling almost petrified, but somehow you knew the creature didn't mean any harm. It looked over at your hand that was inside your backpack. You waited a few seconds before slowly, lifting your hand out of the bag, to reveal a container of prawns that was meant to be your lunch today.

The creature's grip loosened from your calves as it watched you open the container, taking a prawn before slowly reaching over to the creature's lips. One of its hands let go of your calf as it held your hand, guiding it towards its lips before it opened its mouth biting the prawns head off. You looked at the creature, a little startled. Its teeth were sharper than a normal human, like razors. In fact, you looked closely at the details of the creature's face, noticing the similarities to that of a human. Everything was the same except for the scales on the sides of his face, neck and on his cheekbones. The outline of his eyes was darker though, making his golden eyes brighter than usual. It had brown locks of hair, wet but you could see it was starting to dry. He resembled a male in his 20s.

He finished the prawn quickly and looked back at the container, wanting more. You spoke softly, "have more if you would like".

He looked down at your hand and then back up at you as if it was asking you to feed him again. His grip on one of your calves was softer and you could feel his thumb running circles over your calf. You grabbed another prawn, reaching over to his lips as he was careful not to cut your fingers with his teeth as he ate the prawn.

You sat there, feeding him the rest as he grew more comfortable around you. His hand reached out of the water towards the gravel next to your thigh as he spelled out the words "Jungkook" on the gravel.

"Jungkook?" You questioned, "is that your name?". Jungkook looked up at you before placing his hand on your thigh.

"Yes", he answered. Your eyes widen in shock, you didn't think he could understand you. You frowned and asked him curiously, "could you understand me this whole time?".

He smirked slightly, "I'm not the best at this human language but yes, yes I could" He looked up at you, his eyes shining. You frowned, feeling a little messed around with since he could have at least answered you the many times you spoke to him. But then again you understood, he doesn't know you, and you don't know him.

His grip on your calf and thigh tightened as he started to pull you in the water. You freaked, holding on to the edge of the moonpool. "Wait, wait, wait! I can't get these clothes wet and I uhh, have to get going soon..." Jungkook frowned but stopped pulling. He let go of you.

"Promise me you'll come back?" He looked at you with a sad expression, lowering himself in the water.

You looked down at him as you took your legs out of the water and grabbed your bag with your shoes and socks.

"I promise"

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AN: I know I haven’t updated, but I do really wanna update more. I feel like this chapter was a good one, give me some feedback? :)

tags: @mjlock

#bts #jungkook x reader #jungkook #mermaid jungkook #siren jungkook #bts x reader #bts scenarios #masterlist #park jimin #kim taehyung #kim seokjin #jeon jungkook #kim namjoon #min yoongi #Jung HoSeok #mermaids #sirens

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nationalharryleague · 4 years

Text

Acts of Service

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Genre: FLUFF

Word count: 2K

A/N: This is a fluffy love letter to Harry’s love language definitely being acts of service. Feedback is always appreciated and loved! More of my work can be found in my masterlist!

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You hadn’t wanted to go out in the first place.

The club was hot and sticky and the pounding of the music was giving you a headache between your eyes. Blisters had begun to form from the rubbing of your heels and your boob prison of a push up bra was beginning to pinch in all the wrong places. You wanted to go home.

At home, you knew the green-eyed, curly-haired god of a man you had somehow trapped in your own spell was waiting up for you. You pictured him curled up on your couch in your apartment, where you had begged him to stay so he would be there whenever you were released from Girls Night. You smiled at the thought of him fighting off sleep with your dog burrowed into his side and your kitten curled up on his chest. A smile pulled it’s way to your lips thinking of how you would collapse next to him and be enveloped by the smell that could be described only as Harry that filled your apartment whenever he was there. You hadn’t been with him for long, but you knew you never wanted to be without him again.

Miss you. Be home soon :), you typed out to him and pressed send before your phone was ripped out of your hands by familiarly manicured fingertips. Your objections were met with laughter and playful scolding from your friend, Sarah.

“No more phone!” she giggled, slipping your device into her own back pocket. “More dancing and drinking,” she insisted, grabbing your arm and pulling you from the depths of the red velvet booth. She held her iron grip on your hand as you were dragged through the cramped dance floor to the long bar. Soon shots were placed in your hands of some clear foul smelling liquid that Sarah assured you ‘didn’t burn too bad.’ On the count of three, you found out your friend was a dirty good-for-nothing liar and the fiery alcohol slid it’s way down your throat, feeling it’s intoxicating effects only minutes later.

Dancing didn’t sound too bad anymore. Dancing actually sounded great. And dance you did. You felt your normally self conscious and slightly awkward self melt away as it always did when you had a couple drinks in you and you had the time of your life. When the club turned its lights up, the universal sign of ‘get the fuck out,’ your friends piled into the back of your designated driver’s car. You were usually DD, but you were glad you passed up the opportunity for once.

“There’s my man!” you shouted out the back window as you pulled up to the apartment building, finding Harry waiting for you, leaning against the front doors. He loved it when you called him ‘your man;’ letting out a light chuckle but fighting a blush from finding its way to his face in front of the gaggle of girls. He looked sleepy, understandable since it was nearly 3am, but a smile didn’t leave his lips as he gently rubbed his eyes.

“Hi my girl,” his voice graveled back, thick with the sound of sleep. Clumsily climbing out of the back seat, you wobbled your way to his waiting arms, finally feeling steady supported by his firm hold on your waist.

“I missed you,” you whispered, only stumbling over your words a little and puckering your lips slightly, silently asking for a kiss. You watched his eyes flicker quickly up at the watching car full of your closest friends before giving into your request. When your lips met, you were cheered on by a chorus of ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs,’ your girlfriends determined to embarrass you both. You pressed your now pink cheek to his chest as you waved your friends off into the night, saying your goodbyes and feeling a light peck to the top of your head.

“Come on, let's get you upstairs party girl,” Harry spoke softly, his hand securely wrapped around you and a finger hooked into your jeans’ belt loop, steadying your slightly swaying body. The elevator ride up to your apartment was short, filled with your drunken blabbering about whatever came to mind; topics varying from how soft your kitten was to how bad you wanted to eat the tub of cookie dough in the back of your fridge. Your thoughts were met with sleepy chuckles and his adoring gaze.

Walking inside your home, after a considerable fight with your key, you surveyed the sleeping animals curled up into their beds and raised their heads for only a moment before they deemed sleep more important than their mother. Looking around your cramped living room, you were greeted with a spotless apartment, far cleaner than when you left it for your night of mayhem. “Oh, you didn’t,” you accused as your shocked face met his smug one.

“I got a little bored and I thought it would be nice for you to come home to a clean house,” he smiled. Throw pillows were set on the couch in perfect alignment, tops and bottoms of potential outfits you had chosen from had long been folded and put away, and your carpet looked fluffier like it was freshly vacuumed. “There's also something for you in the kitchen.”

A whisper of ‘oh my goodness’ left your lips when you saw the plate of chocolate chip cookies sitting on your counter in the tiny kitchen. You were an emotional drunk and you didn’t even know you were crying until Harry wiped your tears away.

“You didn't have to do all of this for me,” you whimpered as he pulled you into another hug, leaning up against his warm frame to balance your own.

“I wanted too,” he assured you tenderly. “You know my love language is acts of service, or at least that’s what you told me it was,” he said, your head vibrating from the laugher in his chest.

Harry made you feel loved more than anything else in your relationship. You had only been together for a few months and they had been some of the happiest of your life. You two had met in a bookstore, however chiche it was, and had gotten coffee together. It was your treat (gift giving was your own love language) and very soon after you decided you never wanted to live a life without him in it. You loved him and you knew it, but you had not reached the point in your relationship where you were ready to tell him that. You hoped the gifts you brought nearly every time you saw him were already doing that for you.

You had never been in a relationship that you saw a clear future in. Sure, there were a few people here and there but you had always been known as the single friend. The friend that would always lend an ear, give unfounded relationship advice, and curse exes until they evenvitabily got back together.

Everything about Harry was different. You had met your match. You could spend days on end curled in each other's arms, only leaving your bed to grab snacks, and never run out of topics to discuss or want some time apart. You talked about your careers (he was a middle school music teacher and you were a law student), the meaning of life, childhood memories, your favorite colors, and so on. It was all just so easy with him.

He was also the first man you had ever been fully comfortable with. Overtime, your walls came down (or he knocked out a couple bricks and stuck in), and your usually self conscious demeanor began to twist into this new and improved version of yourself. Even if down the line you and Harry went your separate ways, you knew you would be better for knowing him.

You were brought out of your adoring haze when Harry asked if you needed help getting into pajamas. You agreed, knowing that getting you out of those jeans was going to be a two person job.

Soon you were laying back on your (now perfectly made) bed, naked from the waist up; both of you fighting with the skin tight fabric, your inebriated hands being absolutely no help to the efforts. Your body shook with giggles watching your saint of a boyfriend tug on each leg of your pants, willing them to move, as he swore about how he was going to have to cut you out of them.

“Your neighbors are going to think we're going to town on each other,” he grumbled as he inched them down your legs.

“Nothing out of the ordinary then,” you laughed and wiggled your legs when you were finally free from their hold.

“I’m assuming you want this?” he asked, moving to take off his large tshirt, revealing first his ferns, then his butterfly, and then your favorite little swallows. After a feverish nod, you lifted your hands up and he slipped his shirt onto your smaller frame, enveloping you in the soft fabric and your favorite smell in the world.

“Smells like home,” you mumble while burying your nose in the fabric, unsure if he heard you.

“Oi, you’re going to stain it with your makeup,” he scolded. “Let’s get all that off.”

Sitting you down on the edge of the tub, you watched as he shuffled around the bathroom, frequently looking back to your face to examine his task. He looked at you like your face of makeup was a puzzle to be solved or a mountain to scale.

“I can just sleep in it and deal with it in the morning,” you said in between bites of the chocolate chip cookie you had stolen off the kitchen counter.

“We both know I’ll get in trouble if I let you sleep in it.”

“Probably,” you shrugged without paying much attention to him, mainly enamored by the cookie that was beginning to disappear.

Kneeling down in front of you, wielding a wash cloth soaked in makeup remover, Harry began to softly rub at your makeup. His touch was delicate and tender, careful not to get any in your eyes or hair line. He took his time, moving in soft circles, cleaning away the mask you had put on for the occasion. His breath handed softly on your face and you scanned his face, appreciating this time to take him in.

He was so beautiful. His eyebrows were gently brought together and his tongue would swipe over his lips every so often in focus. His eyes were deep and green, flecked with brown and blue, and framed by long black eyelashes you would kill for. Your eyes swiped around his face connecting his constellation of freckles and you reached up to brush your hands against the light stubble that had begun to show against his jaw line. You let your hand fall to his bare shoulder, stabilizing yourself against his strong build. His skin was soft and tan and perfect.

Your lips had a mind of your own when you said it. A verbalized moment of sheer honesty and adoration. You didn’t mean to say it. It just slipped out.

“I love you, H.”

You could take it back, but that would be lying and probably hurt his feelings. You could double down and keep talking, but your hazy thoughts couldn’t come up with anything else to say at the moment. Your third option was saying nothing. You picked the third.

He paused for a moment when he processed what you said, his eyebrows shooting up and giving you an amused look. A closed lipped grin played on his lips and he continued on with his task, wringing out the towel over the tub and going back in to dry your face.

If you had been sober, you would have absolutely panicked. You would have run out of the bathroom and buried yourself under your sheets, embarrassed of what you just did. But you were hanging on for dear life to your buzz, pretending like everything was perfectly peachy and you didn’t just accidentally tell your boyfriend of only a few months that you loved him.

“That’s good. Because I love you too,” he beamed, all exhaustion gone from his voice.

Hope you liked it as much as I loved writing it :) My ask box is open with any feedback you may have!

#harry styles fanfiction #harry fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles drabble #harry styles fluff #harry fluff #fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #one direction fan fiction #harry styles fan fiction #my writing

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echoalyssa · 3 years

Text

Phantom | Dick Grayson

Authors Note: There’s some light language in this, but thats about all!

“Phantom to Nightwing, entering dead zone now. Start the clock and come in if I’m late. I love you.”

You now had an hour inside the base, unable to contact anyone. You were collecting intel and because you were the stealthiest and smallest, (Damian was too young for this particular mission) Bruce had sent you in.

Your boyfriend, Dick Grayson had wanted to come with you but Bruce had rejected the idea because two people was more risky than one.

Dick had been livid, it was more risky for your life for you to go alone. He was your partner even though you were all a team. Ever since childhood, the two of you fought together and somewhat seemed to share the same mind.

You push a vine our of your dace. Your black masks shows the digital map of the quietest places to step. Your hood is pulled up to disguise your features and skin tone that obviously didn't fit in with the darkness of the air around you.

You had left your mottled cloak behind, opting to only have to worry about your body and where you place it.

Joker was extremely active underground lately, he’d evolved and Bruce had only your mission as a lead.

Your mask displays your one hour timer on the left hand side of your vision. Fifty minutes to get into the compound and back to safety.

The compound comes into view, a flat stone building that just didn’t fit in with the forest that surrounded it. You creep forward, staying in the shadows and hugging the walls of the building until you reach the only vent.

The stone was practically flat but years of training allowed you to look your gloved fingers into a crevice and wedge a booted foot into the building.

You begin climbing, scaling upwards twenty feet. The screws of the vent are all different and you have to pull away from the wall, your body straining so you can unscrew the bottom two.

You’re small enough that you can pry the vent open enough that you can squeeze yourself in. Forty minutes your clock reads. You were going too slow. You crawl forward on your elbows, you trek forward, you should have asked for two hours. Shit.

You hit the record button on your wrist panel and pull the microphone out.

It’s a tiny one but the quality is amazing. You’re peering through a small vent above a research lab now and you thread the microphone and it’s wire through the vent. The audio feeds into your ear piece and also saves to the hard drive in your panel.

You’re holding your breath, only breathing when you have to to minimize any chance of getting caught.

“We need to move in now! He’s only getting more recruits and it’s only a matter of time before they find us again.” Says a voice.

“If they haven’t already! I say we try the new weapon on some unsuspecting crowd of bystanders now. Then they’ll be too busy trying to save those silly citizens to deal with us.”

“Yes but is it ready..?”

“It needs to be tested again and we need to find a more powerful energy source eventually.”

And then the joker walks into view of the vent. He’s holding a blueprint and he spreads it on one of the tables. It’s the paint schematic for the weapon because of course, the joker being the joker meant that everything needed to be green, purple, and white.

You raise a hand to your mask and tap twice. It takes a screenshot of your view of the blueprint and sends it to the bat hard drive.

“Did you have any luck with batons inner circle? Would anyone snitch?”

“A couple...” the speaker listens. It’s valuable intel and now Bruce would be able to feed false information to the rats.

You begin to tap their names away into the panel and then attempt to wirelessly hack into the mainframes. The firewall were strong and plentiful but eventually they all fall victim to you. Sixteen minutes your timer reads. Shit. The data downloading from their computers and into your drive is only halfway done.

It won’t be very detailed. Just minuscule bits of information because you couldn't connect physically to the computers. It’s a line of script here and there that didn't make much sense to you because you weren't super tech-y. Though every line counted and that you knew. Several addresses also pop up.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, your panel signals that the download is complete. Seven minutes reads the timer. Double shit.

You scramble backwards knowing that you’ve done all that you can. Somehow managing to turn yourself around in the small space. You’re almost at the vent when you foot clangs against the side of the vent.

You freeze, no alarms go off, but then again why would they? The timer is still ticking and you continue on, sliding out of the vent. You fumble with the screws, attempting to get them back in in case your cover hadn't already been blown. You then plant your feet, push off and flip down to the ground. You land nimbly in a rolling crouch and then pop to your feet and take off, sprinting for the tree line.

They come from the shadows. Dozens of them. All focused in on you.

You suck in a breath and draw your longswords.

“Bring it on Goonies!” You call and they surge forward all at once. Some with guns, electric batons, and swords.

You stalk forward, meeting them in the middle. You begin slashing immediately at arms, legs, torsos, anywhere that wasn’t too lethal. You weren't a killer.

Except there were just so many, the sword in your left hand falls from your grip and you pull out a disc, throwing it into the incomers. It explodes, blinding some and wounding others.

You yank s taser out from your belt and stab it into an attackers neck while blocking an attack with your sword. And then it happens. A baton smacks into the back of your head and you stumble forward, dizzy. A blade slashes your thigh, splitting skin and muscle. A cry comes fro, your lips and you lash out desperately with your one remaining longsword. You're able to down the foe who had slashed you.

Two more take his place and then a dagger rips through your abdomen from behind. You scream, falling to your knees. Just as it gets put through your thigh, followed by your shoulder. You land in the grass face first and the world goes dark, sound fading out.

‘Dick.’ Is your last thought.

~~~

Dick is staring at the timer that is displayed by his make. 00:00:05. 00:00:04. 00:00:03. 00:00:02. 00:00:01. And the dreaded number... 00:00:00. It blares red and he stares at the forest, fists clenched. Where was she?

Tim steps forward and places a hand on his shoulder. “Give her five minutes okay? She’s smart. You know how these missions sometimes go overtime. She’s got this.”

“We never should have sent her in alone. It was too risky. Damn it!”

His fist rockets into a tree. He considers going after Bruce, giving him a piece of his mind. Then decides that it isn’t worth it and begins to prepare to go in after his love.

He makes sure to grab the miniature cauterizer and some other emergency medical supplies, stuffing them into the pouches on his belt.

“Wait, Nightwing, we’ll go together. We need a plan!” Damian calls.

His heart is pounding out of his chest and he can’t breathe. ‘What if he was too late? What if she was already gone?’

He doesn’t want to wait for a plan, time was ticking. He pushes past his adoptive brother.

“Dick wait!” Jason calls trying to grab his arm. But he keeps going, breaking for the trees to find her.

Jason and Tim look at each other, then they both look at Damian. “Stay here.” They say simultaneously/

“No way!” He yells back at his brothers.

The three of them take them off after Nightwing. And Bruce, having watched all his children run into danger, follows them in.

Nightwing is pushing through vines and branches, not caring if he makes noise or not. He knows the rest of his family will follow him, but quietly.

His mail enhances his vision in the darkness. He draws a thumb over his own panel and it activates the heat censor on his mask. Dick Grayson pushes forward quickly, scanning frantically for her heat signature.

And then he sees it. She’s always run cold. Her fingers and limbs always frozen. A small prone figure, running colder than the other surrounding bodies. He kicks up his pace, heading for her because he just knows.

“Phantom!” he yells, followed by, “Robin! I think I found her!”

He skids to a halt and falls to his knees, he can see the stab wounds. The way her blood has soared into the ground beneath her.

Nightwing rolls her over, jamming his fingers under her neck to find a pulse. It’s there. But weak.

He rips the cauterizer out of his belt and drapes her body over him just as Jason appears.

“Is she..?”

“Alive.” He grunts, “Not for much longer I need to..”

Jason helps him rip the uniform away enough so Dick has enough room to maneuver.

“Hold her down!”

Jason does as he’s told and Dick places the cauterizer to her skin.

“Only do what you have to, we need to get out of here. And soon.”

He pushes the two flaps of skin together and places the sparking tool to it. The heat melds the skin together. She’d need to be pumped full of antibiotics in case any of the blades were dirty and risked infection.

She only stirs slightly, too disoriented from her loss of blood. He talks to her the whole time he works on her.

He only does her abdomen, knowing that it’s her most serious injury. It might not even hold from the jolting and jostling that would occur in the journey back. Dick stabs a painkiller into her thigh, just in case she were to awaken.

He motions to Tim and Damian, who had been standing guard, to take up the rear. Grayson then scoops up his girlfriend, cradling her to his chest.

“Jason. Take point. Let’s get her home.”

~~~

He sits by her bedside. His hands are covered in her dry blood, along with his suit. He hadn’t bothered to change.

Y/N had needed a blood transfusion and he had offered immediately, hence why there was a needle in his arm funneling blood into girlfriend. Alfred had stitched do her wounds and hooked her up to an IV for hydration and anti-infection purposes.

She’d been changed out of her uniform after she was stable for cleanliness reasons and was now wearing one of his black shirts.

He’s holding her hand, his thumb tracing over the pulse point of her wrist occasionally.

It would be a long road to recovery for her though they all knew that she would bounce back and attempt to get back in to the field as soon as she could walk.

It’s days later when she finally wakes, her eyelids fluttering.

“Dick.” She whispers.

He’s right there, just like he had been, he’d only left briefly to shower but he ate and slept at her side. Jason had covered both of your patrols, with Bruce helping out.

“I’m okay. You’re okay, babygirl.” He places a hand on her face and she leans her head into his touch.

#nightwing #dick grayson #Tim drake #jason todd #Damian wayne #batfam #bat fam #bat family #dick Grayson x reader #nightwing x reader

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yespolkadotkitty · 4 years

Text

Take What You Need

A special treat for the lovely @keeper0fthestars - a flimsy excuse to get railed into next week by Francisco Morales.

Warnings: SMUT. Porn with a flimsy nod to plot. Word count: 2300

Thanking @alwaysbethewest and @songsformonkeys for the beta!!

“All right! You heard the man, wheels up in thirty!” Redfly shouted across the small airfield. “Catch some sleep, eat, do whatever, but I want us all in that helo, in thirty.”

��Copy that,” Pope shouted back, heading off towards the thick bushes surrounding the hangar and aircraft. Ironhead followed, probably to try and talk some sense into him. Ironhead had always been the most sensible of you all.

In fact, it was William who had spoken up for you when Pope suggested you come along.

“She’s good with a rifle,” Ironhead said calmly. “And her Spanish is decent. Way better’n mine and Benny’s, anyways.”

Redfly - the infuriatingly traditional conservative middle-class American man - had ummed and aahed, and you knew it was because you had a vagina.

But here you were, and you’d taken out two of Lorea’s guys from the roof with your rifle, so Redfly could suck your metaphorical dick.

The man in question loped back to the other side of the airfield, towards Pope’s informant, and started to talk to her about something.

“This is a clusterfuck of epic proportions.”

You turned at that voice. A little raspy, a little husky-edged, it sent a shiver up your spine. Always had, and probably always would.

Francisco Morales shook his head when you turned to look at him. His ballcap - dirty, soft - was pulled down low over his head. Hair the colour of milk chocolate curled out from underneath it. He met your gaze, and his own hazelnut eyes were so, so tired.

“It could’ve gone better,” you agreed, letting your eyes trail down his long, lean frame - a little soft in the middle, but you’d always liked his tummy.

Francisco - Catfish to you all, because during special ops training, he’d caught one almost the size of himself - was an enigma of a man. Soft, sometimes. Hard, sometimes.

You’d known him five years now, and during that time you’d seen him pull the trigger a foot from a man’s head without wincing, and you’d seen him comfort a three year old girl left homeless in a war zone, his voice soft, his touch gentle. The yin and yang of him fit, somehow.

Catfish scoffed. “Not sure how it could’ve gone any fucking worse.” He ripped off his cap, and your eyes were drawn to a deep cut on his cheek.

“What’s this?” You automatically reached up to touch his face. His tanned skin was rough under your fingers as you traced the edges of the healing wound. “It might scar.”

Francisco grunted. “Like that’s a concern right now.”

You grinned, dropped your hand. “It’ll be sexy. The scar, I mean.”

“You think?” He laughed without humour, wrung his cap in his hand, and you saw how drawn his starkly handsome face was, the patchy scruff around his jawline grey in places. God, had you thought about kissing that almost-beard, stroking your fingers over his bristly chin. “I wish being sexy was what worried me most. I’m fuckin’ losing my shit here. The scales are off the charts, the helo will never make it to the ocean-” he swore a stream in Spanish, and stuffed his hat back on. The frustration steamed off him in waves.

“Fish.” You braced your hands on his shoulders, looked up into his face, twisted with anger and fear. “We’ll be okay. We’ve had worse than this.”

“Yeah, but we’ve never had worse with you,” he bit off, shrugging off your touch and pacing away, shoving his cap back on, his hair curling at the edges. “Jesus fucking Christ, if anything happens to you, I’ll-”

“Fish!” You shout to be heard over the noise of the aircraft prep, the wind, the sound of Redfly and Pope’s informant arguing. “Nothing will happen to me. You saw me take out Lorea’s guys. And I saved your ass on that mission in Istanbul.”

Francisco shifted, adopting that hands-on-hips stance he always did when he was thinking. “I know.”

“Then what? I’m not a porcelain doll, Francisco.”

And you saw it. His eyes went hot when you used his full name. Hot and sort of.. Dark. Like he wanted to drag you into that hangar and bend you against the corrugated metal wall and rail you into next week.

And boy, you’d let him.

“What?” you challenged. He needed this release. Whether it was shouting at you or whether you wrestled until the fight had gone out of him, he could not fly that helo with your lives and that money at stake in such a state.

He muttered something in Spanish. Your command of the language was very good but his voice was pitched too low for you to make out the syllables.

“Oh, you wanna go?” You lifted your fists in a mock fighting stance. “You ever hit a girl, Morales?”

“There’s always a first time,” he gritted out humourlessly.

You danced around, goading him. “Maybe you’re afraid I’d kick your ass.”

Fish scoffed, and you could see the tension in his shoulders, in the line of his back. He was a loaded powder keg, seconds from a bloody explosion from the heat, the stress, the shooting. “Stop it.”

“Make me.”

You saw the moment his eyes changed - went dark again, and you turned, running for the hangar.

You heard him bark out a laugh as he pursued you, his long legs eating up the terrain. You ran flat out, reaching the hangar in under a minute, Fish hot on your heels. The minute he barrelled through the door you slammed it behind him.

“What the fuck?” he asked, confusion parading over his face - somehow even more alluring when he was dirty, tired, stressed.

You yanked him close and kissed him. It was the first time, and all the times you’d thought about kissing him, an inaurgural kiss, it was never like this. It was in your shitty home town, under some trees, or under the bleachers of the old high school, or by moonlight at the drive-in.

It took a second, and then Francisco was kissing you back, his lips fierce, hard, the kiss almost painful in its intensity. He tasted of terrible coffee and the beef jerky you’d all forced down, and you licked into his mouth, tangling your tongue with his, and the flavour of his little groan was divine.

“We don’t have long,” he whispered harshly. “What - what do you want?”

Your breath was coming in pants. He smelled of clean sweat, the outdoors, and the spring rain, and you were wetter than you’d ever been. This close to Catfish, you couldn’t cope with the well of desire, too long ignored. “You can’t fly us like this, Fish. In this state.”

His hands clenched on your hips. “What?”

“Relieve the pressure.” You slid a hand down his body, cupped him, felt his erection like steel in velvet. Your blood fired. “For us both.”

“Shit.” Francisco leaned down, rested his forehead against yours. “I’ve fucking dreamed of this. But not… not like this, like you’re a cheap fuck. You’re not. You’re… everything.”

The words shook you, and you pressed your lips to his, drinking him in, loving him, like you’d loved him nearly five years, and always been afraid to rock the boat.

Well, now the boat had run aground and it was time.

“You can show me that when we’re safely back on American soil, soldier. For now…” you yanked him close again, pressed your palm to his cock. “Take what you need. Give me what I need.”

“Fuck,” he bit off, and then he was kissing you like a starving man falling upon a banquet, all tongues and teeth and Frankie, and you pressed as close to him as you could.

“How long do we have?” you panted out.

He shot his cuffs, checked his watch. “Quarter hour.”

“Then make every minute count, Morales.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he breathed. And he got on his knees in front of you, pulling at your jeans.

Your heart leapt into your chest at the first brush of his breath on your bare legs. Frankie rolled the denim down, ghosted a kiss over your underwear.

“You would not believe, baby, how often I’ve jacked off to the thought of having you,” he whispered.

“Fish, if you don’t do something, I swear to God…”

He took off his cap, passed it to you. “Wear this for me.” After you slapped it on your head, he pulled your hand back down, thrust it into his hair. You tugged him close as he yanked your underwear down and proceeded to fucking feast on you.

You’d never experienced Frankie like this. Near feral, his tongue licking at you like you were his last meal, his favourite food, a longed-for treat. He used his hands - hands you’ve wished were on you, inside you - to spread you so he could spear his tongue inside you, nip at your clit, write his name with his tongue, whatever the fuck he was doing, it felt like Heaven.

“Stop. Stop,” you whined, pushing at his hair. “Want to come with you inside me.”

He looked up, those cocoa eyes dark and hot and irresistible, and then he was on his feet in a hot second, and he spun you around to face the wall.

“Hold on to something, baby,” he muttered against your neck before he sank his teeth into the sensitive skin at your pulse point, the tiny hurt only making you wetter.

The sound of his belt buckle being undone and the shove of the denim down his thighs was loud to your ears.

“Please,” you gritted out, arching your back.

Frankie slid a palm down your naked butt, and you heard the growl in his voice when he said, “Sweet girl. When we get back on US soil….” And then he positioned himself and slid home in one smooth, hard thrust, and you gripped the hangar wall hard and cried out at the pleasure and the stretch. He kept going until he bottomed out, curses in English and Spanish falling from his lips in that husky baritone made for pure sin, and then as you groaned in satisfaction, he curled a hand around to your front and rubbed you in maddening circles.

“We don’t have long,” you warned, muscles already fluttering.

“Fuck. Won’t take long. You feel too good. You’re so fucking tight. How - how do you-”

“Fast and hard,” you instructed, and you felt him twitch inside you at your words, heard his moan. “I wanna feel you tomorrow, Francisco.”

“Oh fuck,” he grated out, and then he pulled almost all the way out before slamming back in. The force was just what you needed, and you cried out at the wonderful pressure, the push of him inside you, the texture and shape of him. Better, harder, larger than you had imagined.

You spread your legs as much as you could given the denim around your calves, and Frankie fucks you hard, keeping one hand on your hip and the other at the apex of your body, strumming you expertly.

“Wish we had more fucking time,” he rasped into your hair, pressing a frantic kiss there. “Sweet girl. You feel like heaven. Always.. Knew.. you would.”

“The things I’m gonna to do you when we get home,” you shot back, and pressed your hips into him. “Oh God, more, please.”

He upped the tempo, and the sound of your bodies slapping together was obscene. His fingers circled your clit once, twice more, and you flew off that sweet cliff edge, crying out his name and burying your face in your elbow to muffle the sound.

Frankie’s hips faltered as he gave you all he had, thrusting into you at a punishing pace before his hips stuttered.

“Two minute warning!” Ironhead yelled from outside.

“I want to feel you come inside me, Fish,” you whispered over your shoulder.

“Fuck.” And he tumbled over the precipice too, hips shaking. You felt him jerk inside you, felt the hot surge of his climax, and he pressed down hard on your clit, triggering another little orgasm for you, too.

“Jesus. Fuck.” Frankie leant his forehead on your back, panting. “Christ.”

“You gotta get some more swear words, Morales,” you said, but your breath hitched too, and you wiggled your hips, making him shiver.

He pulled out, zipped up, and then took care putting your clothes in order. When he tugged you close for a kiss, you tasted yourself.

“First fucking chance I get,” Frankie rasped, his lips in your hair, “I’m gonna take my sweet time doing everything I want to you. With you.”

“Then get us over those mountains, Francisco, and I’m yours.” You nip at his bottom lip, then sprang apart when Redfly yanked open the hangar door.

“Fuck’s sake, Fish, we thought you’d gone AWOL. It’s go time.”

“Copy that,” Frankie shot back. You let him leave first, glanced down to admire his ass in those jeans.

And you thought, with single-minded determination: We just need to get over these mountains. Then Francisco Morales would be all yours.

Redfly looked at his departing back and then turned to you, eyes narrowed. “Why are you wearing Fish’s hat?”

****

Tagging the Pedro pals: @emmy-dandiliom918 @thirstworldproblemss @cinewhore @poenariuniverse @keeper0fthestars @scarlettvonsass @casually-introverted @knittingqueen13 @phoenixhalliwell @10-96dispatcher @buckstaposition @agirllovespasta @songsformonkeys @gamingaquarius @mstgsmy @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @dornish-queen @maxphillipswasright @winters-buck @mourningbirds1 @pascalitomorales @mrsparknuts @alldatalost @abuttoncalledsmalls @mrschiltoncat @auty-ren @heatherbel

it’s 10.45pm my brain has failed if I left you off I apologize!!

#catfish x fem!reader #frankie morales x fem!reader

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firelord-boomerang · 4 years

Note

Zukka + Izumi and the first time she firebends

AN: Just a short 1k fluff

Zuko and Sokka are not the perfect parents. They’ve had their fair share of missteps and moments of total, utter panic but that’s a given for first-time fathers. What they lack in experience, however, they more than make up for in foresight.

But really no type of planning would have prepared them for this. The study is on fire and their precious baby girl standing right in the middle of it laughing with delight and their dragon joining in occasionally. Her fathers are in the doorway watching Izumi punch fire out of her hands having the time of her life.

“I blame you for this,” Sokka tells his husband.

“You let Druk out,” Zuko points out.

“Call it even?”

“Deal.”

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

A few moments before disaster

Zuko and Sokka are sleeping soundly in their bed wrapped around each other. After a long day of keeping the world running, a good night’s rest is definitely something they deserve.

It's a quiet evening. A soft breeze blows through their open window. Tonight is much chillier than the previous ones but neither can complain-- all the more reason to snuggle.

Everything is fine until, of course, Zuko hears a noise.

“What was that?” Zuko mumbles groggily. He is sure he heard some rattling and maybe a faint squawk. “I heard something.”

“Probably nothing,” Sokka grumbles into Zuko’s chest. “Maybe just Druk messing around.”

“Druk isn’t in his pen?” Zuko says but he’s already getting lulled back to sleep.

Sokka hums. “Sleep now. Worry in the morning.”

“M’kay.” Zuko buries his face in Sokka’s hair.

Then, a loud crash echoes through the palace jolting them both from their slumber.

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Fifteen minutes before the best day of Izumi’s life

Izumi finds herself wide awake in the middle of the night. Instead of going to her parents like she usually does, she decides that it’s time for adventure. She gets out of bed and sees Druk pass by her window.

“Druk!” Izumi yells waving at him. Druk turns and skitters away faster.

She decides to follow him, also going out through the window. She climbs easily out and scales the wall just like her fathers taught her. Druk goes into the first open window and Izumi stumbles in after him.

Izumi falls inside and comes face to face with a curious looking Druk. She stares at Druk intently and the dragon stares back. Druk raises a small claw up. Izumi raises her tiny hand. Druk flutters his wings. Izumi raises her arms up and down. Druk blows out a small puff of fire. Izumi puffs out her cheeks and blows out a tiny flame surprising them both.

Druk squacks and flies up on the shelves. Izumi doesn’t mind her playmate scurrying away as she’s mesmerized by her newfound ability. Delighted by the spark she made, Izumi continues to blow out air trying to produce fire. She concentrates really hard and tries to channel some fire into her fingertips just like her papa does and it works!

Izumi stares at her hand in wonder. A small but bright flame burns at the center of her tiny palm. She looks at it fascinated. This has never happened before! She punches the air and a big burst of flame surges.

“Cool!” she says as she punches the air some more spinning in circles. She doesn’t notice the fact that she’s also setting the room on fire as she goes.

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Now

All Zuko and Sokka can do at first is stare in shock.

“Dad! Papa! Look what I can do!” Izumi shoots some more fireballs weak enough to disappear as they went but still snagging enough pieces of the room to set it ablaze.

Zuko snaps out of it first and extinguishes the flames quickly. Sokka isn’t far behind, as soon as the fires are out he scoops Izumi up and checks her for any injuries.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Sokka asks. She seems fine but one can never be too sure.

“I can firebend like Papa!” Izumi cheers excitedly. “Did you see, Dad? I copied Druk and I made fire! Want to see me do it again?”

“Maybe when you’re not too close to Dad’s face, yeah?” Sokka grabs Izumi’s little fist and gently tucks it away lest she sends another fireball in her excitement.

“I’m a firebender now too!” Izumi says proudly.

“Yes, that great baby!” Sokka says kissing her temple. “I’m outnumbered now there’s two of you!”

“Don’t forget Druk,” Zuko chimes in with a fond smile.

Upon hearing his name, Druk descends from his perch at the shelves and winds his way between Zuko and Sokka’s legs, finally settling around Sokka’s shoulders.

“That was amazing Izumi, how'd you do that?” Zuko asks.

Izumi reaches for Zuko and Sokka lifts her to his arms with practiced ease. Sokka sneaks in a quick peck on Zuko’s cheek as he hands Izumo off which never fails to make the other man blush. Years of marriage and he’s still got it, Sokka thinks proudly.

Zuko smiles, and checks her over too. “Aren’t you supposed to be in your room?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” she explains. “And then I saw Druk on the window so I followed him! We climbed up and then he puffed out a fire and I copied him and I did it! I can puff fire too watch!”

Izumi takes a deep breath and puffs out her cheeks then lets out a giant yawn.

Sokka chuckles. “I think that’s enough excitement for tonight.”

“Let’s get Izumi to bed,” Zuko agrees.

“Okay.” Izumi is already sounding sleepy.

Zuko reaches for Sokka’s hand and his husband gladly obliges. They walk out of the burned study hand in hand with Izumi starting to doze off in Zuko’s arms.

“Firebending really takes it out of the little ones, huh?” Sokka says.

“It’s a rush at first,” Zuko explains. “But once the excitement dies down it does tire you out.”

Sokka pat Izumi’s head.

They bring her back to their bed just to make sure she doesn’t wake up and venture off into the unknown again. Zuko tucks her in between him and Sokka, and Druk flies off to make himself comfortable at the bottom of the bed.

The three of them are cuddled up with Sokka and Zuko facing each other, Izumi in between them.

“So, she’s a firebender,” Zuko says with a smile.

“We can handle this.” Sokka smiles back. “But for now let’s sleep. Let’s deal with this in the morning.”

“Yeah.” Zuko squeezes Sokka’s hand. “In the morning.”

#zukka #zukka fic #Anonymous #myfic

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we-dragons · 3 years

Text

I'm from a different dimension actually Chapter 6 Damian x reader

Professor X sat in his wheelchair glancing around the room he hums his eyes pouring over all that there was finally landing on Robin. He gives me a look gesturing over at him.

"He informed me about The Crows sir, apparently they have gone under the radar, they've killed three people and the system didn't go off. At first, I thought we still had time, I treated a wound he had it he had come in contact with one and fought it. You know like how Wolverine did, I treated the cut and it's gone, but I was sure they were still in the dream state. But he got injured saving those left how survived probably not far from here, but the fact we didn't even receive the ring can only mean...they've returned under complete control again."

Concern fills the face of professor X, he turns to Robin, who shifts uncomfortably by the entrance of my kitchen. "Who are you then?"

"Robin."

The professor nods not even turning from his spot, he looks over Robin as if completing an inspection.

"How much does this Robin Know Dreki, about you, and The Crows?"

"I told him about the Jal-sein, the old race before the collective mind sharing, and he knows about my box of scales." Professor sighs.

"How did you meet him."

"When he broke through my window last week, infected."

"You gave him some scales to purge poison."

"Yes sir."

"Very good," He moves back to his original spot in the middle of the room. "You have been permitted to stop them at all costs if you must. Your uncle will be here soon to help you kill whatever has brought them back, in the meantime try not to use the stones. We don't want to attract more trouble than what has already been done."

"You're allowing me to put my powers to use?"

"As long as you don't wear it out, vibranium is not easy to turn into clothing."

"What a minute!" Robin's voice carried out through the room. "Just what's going on?"

"Robin," Professor X starts. "your world is being invaded by the Crow so that you become one of the many planets they have drained of life. And to do it they need a vessel that can contain the leader of the Jal-sein, Hok'mor." Professor X looks at him, his use

"And?" Robin says his face remaining unreadable

"I was the vessel, I escaped, destroyed the flagship and the army they had." I shiver moving out from my room to the box still lying on the kitchen table. "They were after the life of my home, so then I became a weapon for my planet." I pull out a bag of coins from the box.

"And what do you intend to do now (Y/N), destroy them yourself." Robin stands in the entryway, professor X stands behind him.

"Yes," I turn to him a chakram and the bag of coins in hand. "so unless you know how to obliterate a bird in 15 seconds or less you need to forget this ever happened and never come back."

"So, why tell me any of this, why tell me about anything why expose yourself?"

"So you can tell your family and friends and hopefully, just maybe you can survive. Because knowing them keeps them out of your head, but too much knowing allows them to enter." I pick up Nightmare, he crawls up to my shoulder and I head out of the kitchen, Robin makes room for me but just barely. I open my closet and pull out the last thing I have, two letters one written in my mother's signature ink and the other in my own handwriting, I hold them out to the professor.

"You know there is nowhere left for me to run professor if I end out getting caught...I just want him to have this. In my letter, papers are containing the custody terms for my brother to Uncle. I just need you to grab them to complete the transfer." Professor X slowly takes the letters where they rematerialize on his side.

"Good-bye Dreki, I will see that these get to your Brother."

Professor fades out of the com, and it clicks turning off, I pick it off the floor and slip it into the pocket of my sweatpants. I pulled out the chakram ready to leave a mark on my hand, I only needed a little bit of blood to completely transform when Robin coughs gaining my attention. He leans against the wall to the left of me now glaring at my form, Nightmare growls at the boy from the corner of my eye I see his fangs getting slightly bigger.

"Are you making it a habit to ignore me while I'm here?"

"No, But I do need you to leave, you can't stay here anymore." I begin to push him out the door in the kitchen, he slaps my hands away confusion leaving his face replacing it's with anger. He open's his mouth and I put a magic orange circle on his head.

"You Robin son of batman, found this information interrogating one of the monsters. It spoke in a language that was foreign but somehow understood all of it. You have made no such connection to the girl Y/N M/N, you did not see a man from another dimension, you came back to thank her for her help you had some tea and you were just leaving." I flick my hand and the circle vanishes, his head lowers for a moment as the information in his head readjusts. He moves to the balcony edge turning to face me the scowl returned to his face.

"Thank you for the tea." he pulls out a grappling hook and leaves without another word. I sigh moving to the same device I used to contact the professor. Picking it up I hold it to my mouth.

"Find me the closest thing to a sorcerer supreme, name and whereabouts contact them when you get there."

I toss it back onto the floor and it roars to life to give me a purple image of the earth and orange magic circles to tracking and moving. I move to my couch and fall asleep waiting for this day to take me.

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I wake the next day with the globe still searching for my request I sigh and get ready for work. I thank god that it's just the coffee shop below me, I work on the weekends mostly unless they need an extra member of staff then it's just me and the older lady and her husband. They both owned the building and the shop they helped me get the apartment set up and showed me how to work the coffee machines. I don't really drink coffee though after seeing what a raving maniac my dad became without it, also it was just so bitter no matter how much sugar I put into it. I partially blame my heightened scenes that came with my abilities, so I got free white hot chocolates and any extra flavors I wanted as long as I did my job and chatted with them for a while.

I asked them personally to stay away while I was sick, so they wouldn't be affected. When I get down the stairs Martha, the elderly lady beams thankful that I'm feeling better.

"I so glad you are doing well dear, I know the acidity in our rain makes you sick so Glenn and I got you this umbrella." She hands me a purple umbrella that still has a tag on it, it reads for sun and rain.

"You didn't have to do this Martha, I told you I'm not good with gifts, you already let me stay here on the government's program and gave me a job here, you and Glenn have already done so much." She pushes the umbrella farther into my chest.

"No you do so much for us, you work without complaint, you've also taken care of us and our granddaughter when she came over. When you were sick we were so worried about you so you going to take it or I can give you more gifts."

"Thank you very much."I smile brightly. She pats my shoulder and gestures to the counter to start the machines.

Once all the machines are started, the desserts are placed and the base coffees are made I open shop. Customers come in and some lounge around in the chairs or couches drinking coffees and either studying or chatting with their friends. Molly usually comes on Sunday as one of our regulars, so I would see her then. A few of our regulars are happy to see I'm back at work one of the other tenants gave me a green bean casserole and a hug. It's 5 O'clock and I make a cappuccino as I finish I hear the door open and the bell ring on the counter.

The black-haired blue-eyed male I had gotten to know as detective Richard Grayson, came in every other day at 5, he normally talks often while I tried to take his order. So I memorized what he usually gets so he doesn't block the register so I can still make the register.

"Hey Y/N I'll take the usual."

"I thought so," I hand him his drink " one cappuccino."

He takes his coffee and moves to the bar we have set up if you wanted to watch the process and it's only then I see the other people behind him, one pissed-off looking male with a cigarette in his mouth, Tim Drake, and Damian Wayne. I look back to Richard he smiles at me leaning onto the bar.

"They came with me this time, It's family bonding time."

"You mean you dragged us out of the house to grab a coffee from this place cause you have a schedule."

"It's bonding Jason! Bonding!"

The two began arguing in the shop, I return my attention to the other two boys. Tim as at the counter puts a ten-dollar bill on the counter, while Damian does the same.

"Give me a regular coffee, black, large cup."

"Tea, no sugar, regular size."

Their voices crowed each other but since this happens frequently it was easy enough to at least get their orders down.

"Sure here's your change." I look back to the two arguing and I see Jason didn't put out his cigarette. He taps it and the ash of his drug falls to the floor.

Sighing I move out of the workspace gabbing a tong and a wastebasket, I take out the cigarette and throw it in the bin now gaining the full attention of Jason. I give him a stern look he seemed to freeze, bitting back any words he might have prepared to say before.

"Sir, I am not sure if I made we've previously made It but there is a strict no smoking policy. As you see we have many elderly, and young children in our establishment." I smile but I know my face is full of malice. "But please enjoy your stay at our cozy corner of our fine and fair city." I move back behind the counter start on some of my orders, I look at Jason again the smile still on my face.

"Would you like anything?" He gives me an odd look.

"White hot chocolate, Large," he nods his head over at Richard. "Put it on his tab."

"We don't have a tabs sir, he works for the police."

"So?"

"He gets Free coffee." He gawks at me as if I told him the sky was black, and I see Richard trying to contain his laughter.

"You give that guy free coffee?"

"It's a store policy." I pass out the coffee and the tea and I see from the corner of my eye he pulls out a flask. I grab the tongs again and clap them together, Jason looks at me then grumbles putting the flask back in his jacket, and instead pulls out a five and hands it to me. I take it from him gingerly and head straight to work on his order. I hand him both his spare change and his drink, and the complimentary cookie bag that came with it. He gives me another look.

"They come with a drink." I leave and continued my chores around the shop.

"You are doing much better (m/n)." I whip my head around and look at Damian who's behind me on the other side of the counter. His companions seemed to be in deep conversation amongst themselves.

"Yes, I'm doing just fine, it happens occasionally but nothing like a good cup of tea and a few nights rest couldn't fix." I go back to cleaning the counter.

"You were sick for much longer than that."

"Yeah...it happens." I change the topic to "Did you think of anything for the project?"

"Why not make a model, there is not really much to do with it anyway." I gasp dramatically.

"Not much to do with an astrolabe! You clearly didn't read the whole paper!" By now I have caught the attention of his group. Damian frowns.

"No, your paper was written very well, I just don't think we need to dwell too much on this project seeing as how we really are not presenting." I had heard that bit from Molly.

"I suppose your right." I put away the cleaning supplies and turn back to him. "I'll get started on a model right away!"

"You will do no such thing." His voice is stern. "I will come back later and work on it with you," He moves his chair back and heads out the door.

His companions follow quickly after him and they say their goodbyes.

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As promised, he came a few hours later right as my shift ended and another person came for the second half of the day. I moved the glowing tracker to my room so it wouldn't gather any extra attention.

"I have supplies, what is all of that?" my brows furrow staring at the bulging plastic bag in his hand while I turn the keys in my locks. opening the door.

"I wasn't sure if you were prepared." He moves to the door, my arm shoots in his way stopping him.

"I wouldn't go in quite yet."

"What?"

I put a finger to my lips and crouch slowly to the floor, I shake the key in my hand then slid them across the floor. A ball of black attacks the object just as it crosses the doorway. Nightmare attacks the keys rolling around and bitting.

"Ah yes, observe the feral kitten in his natural habitat." I walk inside the door beckoning Damian to follow. "I would beware he is an ankle bitter. You can set up in the living room I'll just drop this guy off in my room."

"Does he attack all the time?"

"He's been like that since I picked him up, I don't blame him he was born in a rough neighborhood." I set Nightmare on the bed next to the floating version of earth. "Watch it make sure it finishes." then head to the living room. Damian has all his stuff set out on the table. There was veneer, paper, paint, some nails, an Exacto knife, a hammer, and a bag of pipe cleaners.

"This looks like stuff to make a birdhouse," I try and pick up some of the wood that was on the table." you realize cardboard, scissors, and a sharpie would have been enough."

"And here I thought you like polished and neat projects."

"yeah, but even with cheap materials you can still create a masterpiece."

"You don't do anything nice for yourself self do you?"

"Dude the most expensive thing I own is a cat who attacks me." I sigh, I sketch out a design for the astrolabe. "Well, why don't you start on the Mater, I'll get to work on the plate for our side of America."

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"3 hours of hard work and I got to say it's not bad." I hold the fished product, It's attached to a string of green yarn. "The calculations are down to point." I put it down, I clean up the mess that's on the floor of the living room.

"About the last time we saw each other, I'm sorry."

"It's fine, you probably knew about me from the news already, the big myste#wayne#scifi#damian#bruce#bats#fanfiction#xreader#characterxreader#jason todd#tim drake#character x reader#mxf#fxm#batboys#batboys x reader#Damianxreader#X reader#DC#Marvel#MarvelxReader#DCxreader#batfam#mutants#Damian Wayne x reader ry of the missing journals. So many interviews." I dump the trash in the kitchen, saying that last part mostly to my self.

"You forgive too easily."

"I'm not as forgiving as you think, honestly you view me too highly it that's what you believe. Would you like something before you leave?"

"No, but I have something for you before I go." I open the door to my room and let Nightmare out.

"Oh?" He's already at the door and pulls a shiny gold card from his pocket, he hands it to me.

"Father thought it would be good to meet you."

"Because I'm the daughter of a famous dead professor, is he going to ask about the journals too?"

"No, this is to apologize for my previous behavior."

"Oh," I take the card looking at it uneasily. "I don't think I can go to this, I don't do well at parties."

"Not a very good excuse." He smirks.

"I'll think about it." I push him out the door and give him the Astrolabe, closing the door slowly. " I'll see you at school."

I look at the card again, It's like the parties mom went to I knew them well. While some were nice, others were nice only in their face. I laugh slightly to myself, Molly already called me earlier telling me I was her plus one to the same thing. This was already suspicious enough as it is. I look at Nightmare who cocks his head at me.

"You think I should go, don't you?" the furball nods

"Fine. I was going to be forced into this anyway."

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breitzbachbea · 3 years

Note

📒💖

Emi, I'm kissing you on the mouth right now, you're so sexy. In general but also for taking the bait.

Put “📓” or some other version of a book emoji into my inbox and I’ll explain the plot of a fanfiction that I haven’t written but daydream about.

The Constantinople AU

This AU is from 2017 and came about because I watched a TED-ED video about Constantinople's walls, relistened to the Aladdin soundtrack and because I had earlier talked with a friend about how I had not really seen people make a genie a woman. I came back years later to explain it to my friend Jonah and add new stuff and this year I showed it to @amber-isnt-a-precious-stone to add even more things. It's one of my favourite AUs for sure.

Dramatis Personae:

- Herakles Karpuzi (APH Greece) as Son of the Roman emperor and heir to the throne - Sadık Adnan (APH Turkey) as Soldier in the Ottoman army and Imposter Prince - Dilan Taş (Human OC) as Jinn and Sadık's unsuccessful wingwoman - Athanasios Karpuzi (Human OC) as the Roman emperor and serial skirtchaser - Salvatore Vento (Human OC) as Advisor to the emperor and Fuckface McBadDad - Michele Vento (APH Sicily) as Herakles' childhood friend

The Happenings™:

- It's set in Constantinople in an alternate Universe, close to ours. It’s the late High Middle Age/Early Late Middle Age (depending on how you want to periodize. I am working with how the German Middle Ages are divided, which is arguably a very bad method for classifying Byzantine. But this is my silly Hetalia AU, not my term paper). Around 1300, I’d say.

- Athansios Karpuzi is the current Roman Emperor, which makes Herakles the heir to the throne. Athanasios is desperately trying to wed his son off to any available suitors to form new alliances, but two things keep getting into the way: 1. Herakles is thoroughly uninterested in playing along with Athanasios’ plans. He’s not a chess piece on his father’s board if he's got anything to say about it. 2. Salvatore Vento is Athanasios’ closest consultant and protests any marriage for whatever reason he can find. For the sole reason that he has been eyeing the throne for himself the entire time and wants to marry his own son, Michele, to Herakles.

- Like in my Hetalia AU "Like Father Like Son", Salvatore and Athanasios trust each other as far as they can throw one another. There is no genuine trust here at all, no sympathy, really, they just stick together because they know the other is useful. Have some assorted banter as result of this:

Salvatore: "Immortal what a name! What a title to bear! Although immoral would have fit you much better." [Athanasios’ etymology is “immortal”]

S: "Maybe you wouldn't have to struggle to find a suitable bride for your son if you stopped dragging every young woman within and from outside Constantinople to bed." Athanasios: "He's into guys too, problem solved." S: "Oh, yeah, me dumbass thought you needed stop whoring around, how silly of me."

A: "If he is into anything at all. But if I have another child, they might keep this empire going." S: "No legitimation to the lineage's claim to power like a gay loner and a bastard child." A: "Ah yes, I hired the man whose wife ran away with his son so he could berate me about family life. How I value your opinion, Salvatore." S: "She didn't run away." A: "No, she just hides and sends you people until she can get her divorce. I'm very inclined to give it to her."

S: "They're childhood friends! They'd make a great couple!" A: "All I can hear is what a great emperor you'd make, ruling on my corpse."

- So. Herakles is staunchly resisting any marriage to anyone and minding his business one day, walking along the great walls of Constantinople. He stops to look out into the surrounding area and suddenly, hears a noise. Confused, he looks down and sees someone scaling the wall. Sadık looks up and sees the most beautiful man he has ever seen … spotting him trying to get into the city.

- Sadık is part of the Ottoman Turks, who’re conquering the area around Constantinople these days. He’s some nobody in the army and thought he’d give it a shot and get into the city by himself to earn some fame (and money).

- Herakles is seriously impressed Sadık managed to actually almost scale the famously impenetrable walls of the city. Not impressed enough to actually let him in. So these two banter a bit, Sadık now distracted by this hunk in front of his nose. Herakles correctly assesses that he’s a Turk and says of himself that he’s the emperor’s son. Sadık: “Hey, hot stuff, if that’s true and it’s so impressive, why don’t you let me in as a reward?” Herakles: “Yes, of course. And then I’ll open the gates for the rest of your people, so that you can just walk in and take the city. What impossible thing do you want to happen next, a kiss on the mouth?” Sadık: “What’s so impossible about that?”

- Either way, Herakles threatens to sick the guards on him, which leads to a “Oh no you wouldn’t” - Herakles grins and definitely would, so Sadık has to retreat. (#Don’tSickTheGuardsOnMyAssYou’reSoSexyAhaha).

- He goes back to camp, having gained nothing but a crush. He gets in real trouble for rummaging around the booty, where he finds an oil lamp and WOULDN’T YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENS NEXT. Dilan, a Jinn, pops out and Sadık uses his first wish to get out of trouble. Once that is done and the two have a moment of peace, he's thinking about what to do next and his mind circles back to Herakles.

- Dilan: "Ah yes, they always want something with love ... so who struck you and what's the problem?" Sadık: "Well ... I don't really know if it's true but he said he was the son of the emperor. He certainly looked the part! And I didn't really want to wait for him to call the guards to confirm it." Dilan: "Wait ... so you want to get with the son of the Roman emperor?" Sadık: "If that handsome little shit didn't lie to me, then yes." Dilan: "Isn't that a little out of your ballpark?" Sadık: "What, is it out of yours? Can't help me in that case, magic lady?" Dilan: "Psht, don't make me laugh! I can make the impossible happen, just tell me what you need." Sadık: "I dunno ... I guess getting inside the city?" Dilan: "That's it? That's all you need? That's less than a no-brainer -" Sadık: "Oh yeah, if it's so easy then, save that second wish for later. I got past one of the walls already once, I'll figure that out without your magic." Dilan: "Alright, alright ... and what about the wooing of your sweetheart?" Sadık: "That we'll see to once we're there ..."

- Dilan and Sadık chitchat while they make it to Constantinople. Dilan spends some time in the lamp, because walking is boring, but she does tell him that she's pretty sick of being in there. So that's where Sadık learns about her wishing to be free. Dilan in turn learns that Sadık doesn't have such a rosy life either (especially because now he can't return to the army, after he basically deserted).

- So they get to Constantinople and decide to actually factcheck if they got the right guy - and if yes, some general information about the emperor's son. Luckily enough, a friendly trader/tradesman tells them a bit about the city and the imperial family. Dilan: "So, did you by any chance ever see the emperor's son?" Trader: "Oh, well, that's an odd question, isn't it? But since you don't seem to be from here, I can understand the curiosity. Well, let me think ... You often see him only from afar ... during a triumph where he had accompanied his father during the campaign I got to see him up close. What a regal figure there at the head of the troops!" Sadık is too lost in the vision of his crush all decked out in military gear on a horse. And then taking all that gear off and being a regal figure while he fucks Sadık into the sheets … Dilan: "Yeah, yeah, yadda yadda, we need something more concrete. Height, hairstyle, haircolour, what does the dude look like?" The trader/tradesman is a little baffled but does provide a description that lines up with who Sadık saw. So with that information, they start to wonder how to woo a future emperor.

- Luckily, now that the trader/tradesman thinks they're here for imperial gossip, he actually mentions the fact that Emperor Athanasios hopes for his son to follow his footsteps and is currently looking for a suitable match, so that Herakles can be of political use even while he's still in charge. So Dilan and Sadık get an idea how to get into the city and Herakles heart. Or his pants. Milestones are still up for negotiation.

- After the grand entrance happened, where Herakles definitely took offense at either "Heard your prince was a sight lovely to see" or "Heard your prince was hot, where is he?" because either question was accompanied by Sadık's flirty looks, Athanasios actually lets Sadık and Dilan into the palace. There he and Salvatore discuss the entire thing, aka if whoever Sadık pretends to be is a good match.

- While they talk political stuff and snark, because of course Salvatore is against it, Sadık continues to feel very smug in his new princely identity and makes flirty eyes at Herakles. Herakles is just like "ugh" and much more happily plays with his cats. Which tbh sounds like they're 16 or something, but they're not that much younger than in canon (I think they'd be 22 and 24 here).

- Hijinks ensue. Herakles tells his dad that he’s a Turkish soldier that tried to sneak into the city and Athanasios doesn’t believe him, thinking Herakles is now lying badly to not get married. Dilan and Sadık are developing a friendship that is best described as hoes being bros.

- Dilan: "Look, you like cats. Cats are furry. Hairy, if you will. You know who else is hairy? Sadık. He's juuust as hairy as a cat - shhhht, I'm wingmanning for you and it's working great, you can thank me later."

- At first, Dilan mostly employs her magic for some silly little things with Sadık to woo Herakles. It doesn't work very well. Herakles: "I know it's magic, that's not impressing me - Okay, it is kinda cool, but you're still a dick." Dilan: "But a dick with a cool sidekick, come ON! What else do you want me to do to make the nerd viable?!" Sadık: "You call that wingmanning?!"

- Once Dilan realizes dickbags Athanasios and Salvatore are, she also uses little magic tricks to continously make their lives worse. Ironically, this may be what finally endears her and Sadık to Herakles. (If you haven't noticed, he doesn't like his father very much and Athanasios doesn't care for him aside from being a political pawn).

- At one point, Michele shows up at court! Herakles is overjoyed to see his childhood friend, which he hadn’t seen in years! Sadık is absolutely not, because it looks like just when he and Herakles almost had something, this twat shows up and steals the show!

- Dilan: "Well, I can't make him not love this dude, but I could beat the dude up." Sadık: " ... keep that in mind."

- However, when Dilan goes to investigate what Michele is doing here (and wingwomanning again), this ensues: Dilan: "Hey brah, what's up, why so blue looking? Is it because your boo just told you you ain't his number one anymore?" Michele: "I, eh ... no ... May I ask who you are?" Dilan: "Just one of the servants of the insanely charming and powerful - and hairy - Prince who's here to marry the Prince. Yep, he's sooo gonna marry that guy." Dilan: "There was a whole musical number about it, you should have seen it, I was on top of my game." Michele: "Sure heard about it, you stirred up trouble here. Hope it helps ... I'm not saying that Herakles should marry someone his dad set in front of him, but it'd be nice if he found someone at last. He told me he was very lonely the last years ... I don't want to leave him behind just as lonely again." Dilan: "Yeah, it'd be - Leave him behind?"

- Dilan: "Good news! His loverboy is not here to stay! He wants to go to the west, he's just here because of his terrible dad!" Sadık: "Oh, that's good! Wait ... isn't his father that asshole of an advisor?" Dilan: "Yeah. Why." Sadık: "The guy who wanted to marry his son to Herakles since apparently forever?" Dilan: "Yeah, but his son is not going to marry him." Sadık: "I smell a trap 10 miles against the wind."

- There is no trap however. Herakles realizes that the crush on Michele is nothing but a childhood crush and has to be left in the past … and that he wants to move forward with Sadık. When he wants a conversation one-on-one, Dilan wants to make it a one-on-two, but Herakles asks her if she doesn’t want to keep Michele company in the gardens, it’s not gonna take long, an hour or two at most. Then she can also fetch Michele when they’re done, so that Herakles can say goodbye before he leaves for Sicily.

- Dilan thinks about it, finds it’s not a trap (and if it was, nothing she and her fists couldn’t solve) and goes in the garden. There she talks with Michele and makes the mistake to either show off her magic powers, tell Michele of TurGre’s meetugly (#Don’tSickTheGuardsOnMyAssYou’reSoSexyAhaha) or to be like: “Hey, do you wanna know a cool secret? Sadık isn’t a Prince, all of this is my doing. Pretty cool, eh?”

- Unfortunately, they’re not alone. Salvatore was searching for Michele in the gardens, to get his “fucking rotten brat of a son” to play along after all instead of disappearing once again. So he overhears this. Salvatore: "Oh, so Prince Sadık is not a Prince? That's a funny joke indeed and I'll laugh my ass off the hardest in the end."

- So just when Herakles and Sadık had time to talk about their feelings and confess and, also, you know, make out and fumble for good measure, they get interrupted. Literally when Herakles was finally stripped down to his tunic and Sadık slid his hand underneath it.

- Athanasios: "This is gonna be the last wall you breached, you little rat." Herakles: "Dad! Stop it!" Athanasios: "This man nearly ruined our dynasty. Arrest him." Salvatore: "Arrest the man indeed. Go and get the ex-emperor." Athanasios: "Ex-Prince. It's not the right time for your snark." Salvatore: "I'm not talking about that small fish. Guards - arrest this careless idiot who nearly ruined our city by letting a scammer into its walls! Clearly the emperor's been in on this and can't be trusted!" Athanasios: "You've lost your mind." Salvatore: "You've lost yours and it's actually the thing you'll miss the least when syphilis is going to eat away the last of your rotten brain in the dungeons. So get him! And that ottoman faker, too, just get the trash out of here."

- The scene ends rather dramatically, because I love the thought of Michele and Dilan rushing to their help, but they get held back. Dilan maybe gets restrained by some anti-magic stuff. And Dilan begs Sadık to use his last wish to help him. To solve this problem. But Sadık refuses, because he promised to use it to set her free. So Dilan is just livid and upset, distraught, yelling at him to let her do something while he gets taken to the dungeons.

- So now Salvatore’s in charge and setting his plans into motion. PR is of course the first thing that needs to be done, so there’s a speech to Constantinople’s masses: "But, as you know, I respect and regard the royal family, the entire dynasty, more than any of you! So I am not going to assume power, it'd be a crime against God himself who granted us this emperor, if I had removed him for anything but his unstable condition and his tragic mistake of almost letting his lineage being tainted! Not to mention that this would have been the end of our beloved empire, our city, suddenly overrun and ruled by those barbarians! No, of course I'll give my power to the true heir who was merely a victim to his father's incompetence. To prove I really mean it, I'm even going to give up my son to the Prince, to forever bind my loyality to the throne!"

- Michele: "I hold no more respect for you as father as I did when we left. I'm not going to play along your perverted plan." Salvatore: "Well Michele, if you don't respect me as father, then maybe you'll respect me as the Roman Emperor!"

- Meanwhile, in the dungeons, Athanasios and Sadık have some great chitchat. Sadık: "Guess that's some quality father and son in law bonding time, eh?” S:“Though I'm pretty sure your son would rather call me daddy than you." A: "Once this entire drama is over, I'll have you decapitated. Or just kick you back to your people and let them handle this." S: "Ah, but when I came here as a fake prince, your arms and gates were wide open. Should've listened to your son when he told you so."

- Here’s also some Salvatore content: Athanasios: "And now you strut around in my clothes. I'm surprised they even fit you fatass!" Salvatore: "Oh, the entire imprisonment is really getting to you, ain't it, emperor tightlips? Ah, I meant - ex-emperor tight lips. Now you've sunk low enough to insult me with such details. Is it because you have nothing else left now that you're off your high horse?" Salvatore: "I thought so. At least you're enough of a sound mind to not threaten me with 'once I get out of here' hot air. Because we both know you're not getting out of here in a lifetime anymore. And yes, I’m wearing your rags, since I’ve got no time to waste.” Salvatore to Sadık: "Actually, it's sad that you aren't going to be there to watch it. Although, I think a public execution would just spice the entire wedding festivities up, if I think about it."

- Ah yes. The wedding. Herakles: "You look great today, my love. Like a polished jewel." Michele: "Thanks. I'd never seen a man more handsome than you though. Truly, a prince with all his qualities seen right away." Both: -sigh- Ft. Dilan, who’s just watching the kids sadly and is trying to reassure them she got this, she’s gonna find a way, it’ll be fine!!!

- Herakles and Michele wonder why Sadık didn't use that wish. To which Dilan replies he said he'd free her with it, but she didn't believe he'd actually uphold that promise. And he shouldn't have because now she's useless and he's in trouble. (And Hera only falls more in love with Sadık, because being a good person is HELLA swoony.)

- Dilan also tries to cheer them up and I believe she can still do small magic tricks, she just can't get out of whatever shackles/confinement she is in. So when she isn't despairing or raging, she tries to cheer Herakles and Michele up with some silly little tricks. She shapeshifts into their fathers to make fun of them. Which leads them to an idea ...

- I have no idea what it is though. I only know that the grand final and resolution involves shapeshifting. If anyone who's better at plots wants to give me ideas, please do.

- However they manage to stop Salvatore's machinations, this is what follows: Salvatore gets thrown into the dungeons. Herakles decides to not let his father out and instead take the crown himself. He becomes emperor and marries Sadık. Sadık uses his last wish to set Dilan free. Michele goes to travel to Sicily, promising he’ll write letters to them and come visit some day (Dilan promises the same).

- The end of Salvatore and Athanasios rotting in jail together is SO satisfying to me, bc now that they are useless to each other, there is nothing left to do but be a pain in each other’s ass. They hate each other and they DESERVE EACH OTHER.

Sequel Bait:

- Before we get to the sequel bait, let me give you some prequel bait for a change. Here's a little "what if one of the many suitable matches for Herakles had been one of the Beilschmidt brothers" scenario. Plus free medieval history lesson:

- Now for the actual sequel: Three years come and go. Herakles and Sadık settle in their new rules as emperor and ... emperor's husband. (I don't know if Byzantine empresses were "put into office" in the same way the Emperor was. If someone is more knowledgeable about this than me, correct me).

- Their marriage is going swell, however both struggle in their new official roles. Herakles faces all the administrative problems and tough decisionmaking that comes with being a ruler, while Sadık struggles to be accepted by the people of Constantinople. Where Herakles tends to take care of the court, Sadık tries his hand at being a military leader.

- One morning, Sadık wakes up with Herakles in the room. Which should not be surprising, if it wasn't for the fact that Herakles had left the city yesterday. He's oddly nonchalant about it when Sadık asks him and also ... weirdly chipper? Eager? Kitschy in his flirting? He's at first flattered, but soon very confused by everything and wonders if either he hit his head real hard in his sleep or if Herakles fell off his horse when he tried to make it out of the city.

- Turns out none of it, because after some more eyelash fluttering, his "husband" goes POOF! and turns out to be Dilan, who's on the floor laughing. "You should have seen your stupid face! Really! Wait, I'll show you!"

- After Dilan is done shapeshifting into Sadık, absolutely overacting his reaction and argueing with him about it, they finally get to catch up. Turns out that Dilan was bored by travelling around the world and wanted to check in on her old buddy.

- She couldn't have chosen a more opportune time to do so. Once Herakles returns, he ... at first has a weird reunion with his husband. Sadık is kind of wary around him and starts to list his attitude and general personality traits/ticks as proof for ... something. Takes a while for Herakles to get the news that Dilan is back, too.

- Herakles is very relieved to hear that! He wanted to confide something in Sadık, because after he had returned to the city, someone had taken him aside. Natasa Simonides, an old and trusted courtly advisor, needed help. Recently, her husband Ibrahim disappeared and she's worried.

- Natasa also told Herakles a secret: Ibrahim is a Jinn, which is why his disappearance worries her even more. Herakles informs Sadık and asks Dilan if she knows anything, but she sadly hasn't heard anything either. - Before she can zip off and see if she can find Ibrahim, Herakles asks another favour of her - to educate Natasa's twins, Timothea Farah and Omar Veniam instead. Natasa thinks they may be able to find their father, but they don't know they're half-Jinn, so they'd need some guidance. Dilan happily agrees to be their teacher!

- My only more in-depth infos on Jinn and their children with humans comes from this Monstrum video by PBS Storied. I don't think Thea & Omar would need to be taught by anyone to be seers and how to be in communication with non-human spheres, but it makes for a better story.

- So Dilan is off to teach the kids while Sadık volunteers to go and search for Ibrahim. Herakles resumes his imperial role in the city.

- It's not really fun and as the people become more and more agitated with the status quo, more and more people "remember" that the old emperor is still around. Enough people are going "What's that kid knowing anyways?! All those highfangled ideas and useless reforms, for what?" that a select few decide to stage a coup by releasing Athanasios from the dungeons.

- Now, I still haven't decided if Salvatore also gets let out. The problem is that I really would begrudge him his freedom ... but I also begrudge Athanasios his freedom! It doesn't feel fair that one bastard gets to walk free and the other doesn't!

- Out in the field, Sadık isn't having much more luck. No Jinn in sight and the trouble he has with a few of the men that accompany him keeps him thinking about the acceptance problems again. He really wishes at one point that Herakles wasn't emperor at all. You can imagine how terrible he feels for these thoughts when news of the coup catches up to them. Be careful what you wish for and all that jazz. On top of that, he gets into trouble as well - betrayed by some of the men he had taken along. He gets stuck in some place like a cave or an abandoned house he was investigating ...

- Sadık finds a large sealed bottle and thinks 'Well, what's the worst that could happen?' He is greeted by a GIANT cloud of smoke instead of anything edible/drinkable. By the time the cloud is human-shaped, he already has a giant grin on his face. Sadık: "Hah! I have a sixth sense for this kind of stuff!" Jinn: "Greetings, mor-" Sadık: "Yeah, yeah, quick question, is your name Ibrahim? Or do you know one of your kind called Ibrahim who's been passing through recently?" Jinn: "My name is Ibrahim - " Sadık: "Great! You know a Greek lady called Natasa? I take that look as a yes. Okay, so first wish is to get us out of here, second wish we'll see, third is like freeing you from the whole servitude bit - You do the three wishes thing, right? Anyways, your wife and kids are wishing for dad to come home, so get us out of here, you'll get explanations on the way back."

- In the meantime, Dilan and her protégés, along with Natasa and Herakles, have been trying to figure out how to solve the problem at court. It doesn't help that the news of Sadık's troubles also reached them (I know the speed of spreading information may be historically hella inaccurate, but I need it for the drama). So Dilan is torn between helping her best bud and helping the rest at court. The Greeks cook up a plan and assure her that she should go and help Sadık, they've got this.

- The plan is to get Athanasios to do something incredibly stupid that would immediately turn the people against him. They exploit the fact that Athanasios likes to listen to words that fall from pretty lady's mouths. So Timothea flatters her eyelashes and promises to tell him something of a vision she had ... that the divine has something to tell him through her. (Don't worry for her, she may have to endure his fingers under her chin, which is infuriating and nauseous enough, but no more skin contact than this). Thea gets backed by her brother to lend it more credibility once Athanasios considers with his head and not his dick.

- And we can all appreciate that Dilan has been sent away, otherwise the scene would have been like this: Thea: "The spirits are talking to me about you ... " Dilan: "Mhm, mhm, indeed, I can hear them to. They're saying that you're a bitch!"

- Dilan in the meantime reaches Sadık, Ibrahim and those of his troop that haven't betrayed and abandoned him as soon as they heard of the coup. A little happy reunion before she immediately fills them in on what's happening.

- They come up with a plan themselves to finally get rid of Athanasios and the Simonides and Herakles have begun to sweat a little back home, because Athanasios mistake of listening to the twins' advice has bought them time, but not really solved the problem yet. Which is when Dilan and Ibrahim sweep in, concocting an illusion powerful enough to wrap up everyone in Constantinople and make Athanasios seem like the literal devil. Some mass-hallucination miracle bullshit, truly, to assert that he doesn't deserve the throne.

- Maybe for good measure, Athanasios disappears after the illusion is over. Dilan and Ibrahim have no idea where he went, they say with a smile.

- Another grand finale! The four lovers are reunited, Thea and Omar are overjoyed to have their dad back and he is overjoyed to have his kids back. When Dilan tells the Simonides twins that they did a great job, she's a good teacher after all haha!, Ibrahim and Natasa invite her to stay. Dilan says that they don't need her, surely, now that Ibrahim can teach them, but Ibrahim says he could use some help. Herakles also encourages her, saying that he'd love to have her at court - and Sadık also bullies her into staying. "What do you wanna do, see the world again? Didn't do much for your peanut brain the first time around, maybe hit the books together with Hera so that you'll be a passable teacher some day."

- Dilan and Omar also have evolved a crush on one another during this entire mess. That's what I'll leave you with - all well that ends well.

Also hey you! Thanks for reading all of this! Here's a little bonus content if you made it this far!

A wonderful fanart of Michele and Salvatore by my beloved friend C0FFINATED over on twitter!

Here's an amazing commission of the Greeks and Turks by @captkirkland ! I'm not sure if I'm allowed to repost the pictures myself on tumblr & you shoud reblog it from him anyways. Show him and his amazing art some love! From left to right it's Timothea, Herakles, Omar, then Dilan, Sadık and Havva (who's not featured in this AU, rip. Things would have worked to well with their brainpower).

Thanks for reading this! Hope you have a wonderful day!

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olivinesea · 3 years

Text

A Mixed Blessing

chapter one: never watered down

a/n: Big warning on this: child abuse, vomit, alcohol. Believe me, I don’t feel great about it. But needs must be. ~2.2k

He’d never been asked to pinpoint when it started but if pressed he’d probably identify one particular night in the house he grew up in. That house, never a home, was full of memories that could have tipped the scales, started him stumbling down the path he later found himself on. But, no, upon examination there was, without question, one night that started it all.

That night, like most nights, his dad had fallen asleep with an open bottle beside him. With a child’s lack of foresight, Aaron crept close and brought it to his lips recklessly. The liquid made him cough, lungs burning with the harsh fumes that curled up into his sinuses. Undeterred, he took a smaller sip. It tasted foul but he was driven by an unrelenting curiosity to know what it felt like. He had observed the difference in his father’s behavior from when he came home tense and bitter to the point where he was passed out in front of the TV, his face smoothed of any expression. A few more sips and it began to go down a little easier. Mr. Hotchner shifted in his sleep, muttering something under his breath. Aaron slipped away and, without thinking about it, took the bottle with him.

Back in his room, he sat on the floor at the foot of his bed. Tucked in the small space between bed and wall he was just out of sight of the door. The world swam around him as he reached the bottom of the bottle. His eyes felt heavy. The bottle tipped over and he laid on his side so he was parallel to it. He giggled as he rolled it back and forth, the last sip sliding along the inner curve. He tried to roll it fast enough for the liquid to meet itself in the chase. For once he felt warm and slow, so slow. His senses normally on high alert, he was like a rabbit twitching at every sound but right now everything felt loose and distant.

He rolled the bottle too hard and it slipped out of reach. He stretched out an arm but it was too heavy to move. Instead he just let his arm drop to the floor. His stomach rolled unpleasantly as he watched the bottle come to a stop under the bed. He curled around himself, closing his eyes and breathing through his nose. To distract himself from the sudden nausea, he tried to go through his times tables. He had learned them a couple years ago in school but he always struggled to keep them straight. It had been the cause of more than one argument around the dining table. His father, who never had difficulty with numbers, insisted it was stupidity or, worse, laziness, on Aaron’s part that prevented him from being competent at math. He knew he should be able to do this, most kids in his class could recite these facts without a second thought. But for some reason, the numbers felt unmanageable, even at eleven years old. He knew there was something wrong with him, but there was so much wrong with him he wasn’t sure where his inability with math fell on the scale of his insufficiencies. It was impossible to understand how these things came so easily to others. It was the same sort of impossible as imagining himself as an adult, only a few years from now, less time than he’s been alive already. If time was to be believed, in seven years he would be eighteen and free.

He fell asleep somewhere in the six times table. He threw up on himself in the middle of the night, barely conscious as it happened. Unable to move as it made a mess down his shirt and pooled on the floor beneath his chin. He hadn’t eaten much so it was mostly a thin sort of bile at least. A small blessing.

Sometime before dawn rough fingers grabbed him around the back of the neck, dragging him from his hiding place. He had a hard time focusing his eyes but the anger was too familiar to miss. His head hurt, his stomach hurt, as his blood pulsed hotly through his dehydrated body. He couldn’t help the frightened tears that began to run down his cheeks. He was too disoriented to comprehend the insults, the curses being directed at him. His father shook him hard before throwing him down on the rough carpet. From here Aaron could see the worn cuffs of his father’s pants. He must have slept in his chair because he was still wearing his clothes from the night before.

“You think you can steal from me?”

Those words came through clearly enough. Aaron started to panic as his dad pulled his shirt up, enough that his small back was exposed as he tried to crawl away. He couldn’t see anything, the fabric bunched around his head, arms trapped uselessly by his ears. His breathing quickened, causing the spot where he’d gotten sick on himself to draw close against his mouth and nose, setting off a wave of nausea. Aaron cried helplessly for his mother as his father let his anger out in lashes against his pale skin. He made himself as small as he could, the wet shirt getting caught in his mouth as he screamed. The taste made him retch but there was nothing in his stomach so he was left choking on coughs that seared through his chest.

He could never gauge how long the beatings lasted. Always longer than he had the energy to cry for. He grew still and quiet while his father continued to strike him. But the hits came slower, the pauses between each one lengthening as his breathing became labored. That kind of fury wan’t meant to be sustained. Once tired of the action, he aimed a final kick at his son and cursed as he walked away, belt hanging loose from his fist. In the doorway he yelled for his wife, who hadn’t been drawn to Aaron’s room despite his begging for her.

Aaron lay motionless, gasping, his body painfully stiff as he waited for his father to leave. As soon as the man was gone, he clawed at the shirt to pull it the rest of the way off and pushed himself backwards under the bed as far as he could get. Tears still ran down his face, though his emotions had settled into numbness, his body reacted automatically to the hurt. His foot bumped against the empty bottle, making it roll a little. He kicked it, a burst of anger tensing his muscles, and it spun away, crashing against the corner of the dresser. He froze at the sound of shattering glass, a whimper he couldn’t suppress escaping his mouth. He prayed the noise wouldn’t bring his father back. Shivering now, he buried his head in his arms, muffling any more sounds he couldn’t control and tried to hear the warning of returning footsteps.

He stayed there, tucked into the dusty darkness, listening to the sounds of the house: his father showering, his mother making breakfast. He didn’t attempt to move until he was sure his dad had gone for the day. He started to slide out but then an overwhelming fear that he would return suddenly immobilized him. He shrank back again. He was hungry, thirsty, he had to go to the bathroom but he was just too afraid to move. He remained there for a long time, forever it felt like, before he heard soft footsteps moving through the hallway. Logically he knew that it wasn’t his father but his hands shook with fear anyway.

His mother’s feet came into view, approaching the bed. She knelt down, dress tucked under her knees. “Aaron?”

He held his breath.

“Aaron, baby, come out.” She leaned down to look under the bed. As her eyes adjusted to the dark she saw him, half dressed, eyes wide and and circled by dark shadows. Her concerned expression shifted, a flicker of anger appeared but was gone in a flash, a match too easily blown out.

“Come on,” she held out a slender hand, palm up in supplication. He looked at it, unmoving. Where had she been when he was screaming for her? Hadn’t she heard? Why hadn’t she come looking sooner? Everything hurt, outside and in. His own anger burned through him, resentment driving him to action. He ignored her hand, instead pulling himself out on his elbows, putting as much space between them as possible. She remained on her knees as she looked at him. They were almost the same height positioned like this, his head slightly above hers in a preview of their future height difference. He wrapped his arms around his bruised and sticky chest, glaring at her. Upright, the blood drained away from his face, his balance became uneven and he swayed a little. She watched him adjust his feet, her hands useless in her lap after he’d ignored her offer. She was afraid to touch him.

She pursed her lips. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

He narrowed his eyes.

“You know I can’t help you. You have to be smarter than that.” Her voice was apologetic, though her words were not. All he could think about though was the way his throat felt raw from the sickness and the screaming and how she’d left him there alone for so long. She was the adult, she was supposed to take care of him. He was too wrapped up in his anger to see the grey bruises on her neck, to be aware of the contradiction between her long sleeves and the warm sunlight beginning to stream through the window. She sighed and rolled back onto her heels to stand up, picking up his dirty shirt.

“I’ll run you a bath, come on.”

He chewed his lip, watching her leave the room, wanting to disobey if only to make things difficult.

“You’re going to be late for school,” she called from the hallway.

He followed reluctantly, every movement sending fire racing across his back, every step unsteady. He hissed as he sank into the hot water but once he was submerged, it reminded him of the warmth the liquor had infused through him. The haze had softened the world with unconcern. He closed his eyes to remember the feeling better, only a few hours ago he had felt weightless. He wanted that back. With his eyes closed, he missed how his mother’s tears dripped into the bathwater, mixing seamlessly with the soap bubbles and steam.

He rested his cheek on his arms, folded on top of his pulled in knees. His mouth hung open slightly because he couldn’t breathe through his nose, still too congested from crying. He could almost fall asleep if it weren’t for the stinging pain that he couldn’t quite push away from his consciousness.

As the water swirled pink, his mother’s expression tightened while she brushed the washcloth against him as softly as she could. The cuts from the leather were shallow, not a serious injury, weaving across old scabs, older scars. There were fine pale lines alongside thicker ones, the pink shine of new skin. It made her want to scream, to run away but she knew that wasn’t fair to him. She couldn’t protect him from the man, she couldn’t protect either of them. But she could at least help him now. So she stifled her tears as best she could. Once his back was cleaned of dried blood, his chest freed of dirt and vomit, she pet his head softly. Her fingers brushed back the thick dark hair, the dampness causing it to curl slightly at the ends. It was too long again.

He looked at her with sleepy eyes, all his anger gone. He was just a little boy who wanted to be held by his mom, the only person he could remember ever touching him lovingly. Maybe not as much now, less and less as he got older, as his father’s disapproval of him grew. But he remembered, distantly, moments of safety in her arms. He wanted that so desperately right now.

“Can I stay home, Mama?”

She wanted to say yes so badly but that was how rumors started. She would do anything to avoid that suspicion, even if it meant rejecting her son. Someday he would understand, she reasoned.

“You’re not sick Aaron, you have to go to school,” she did her best to sound firm, businesslike.

Disappointed but unsurprised, he knew better than to argue or pout, just looked down at the dirty bathwater. She got his towel and dried him off as gently as possible. He whimpered a few times when the towel met particularly raw patches. Each pained little sound tore at her heart.

“Go get dressed.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He felt sluggish as he pulled on his clothes—the loosest darkest shirt he could find. It wasn’t hard, none of his clothes fit. They were all bought several sizes too large in the expectation that he would grow but that had yet to happen. His mother promised him it would happen soon but he had a hard time believing her. He had a hard time believing he would survive long enough to see himself grown.

chapter two

#criminal minds #tw child abuse #tw vomit #tw alcohol #aaron hotchner #young hotch #a mixed blessing

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brahkest-fr · 3 years

Text

CW: trauma, maggot/worm imagery, blood, general violence | Titan n Chimera have a moment

Titan rushed down the hall, long tail flailing mercilessly behind him, tripping cursing guards as he sprinted through ancient corridors that reeked with the stench of dust and mold. Another tundra stood at the end of the dungeon, old eyes cold and weary, not at all surprised at the other’s sudden appearance. He crossed his arms as Titan approached apprehensively. He didn’t meet his gaze but the elder bore through him with a fire that could raise the dead.

“Let me see her,” Titan demanded, rare harshness in his voice.

The other tundra squinted. “Be my guest. She will be dealt with by the morning,” he spat and pushed past him, frail old shoulder barely nudging Titan’s massive frame but the sentiment was there. “I told you something like this would happen.”

He waited until the other left before gingerly opening the wooden cell door, its creaking overwhelming the deep, pained breaths from within. His jaw slacked as he gazed over the hunched form of Chimera, kneeling on bare stone, arms folded behind her and chained to the wall. She peered upwards, head heavy and swaying. Her vision was blurry but made out Titan’s broad shoulders, haloed in the dusty light of the door frame. Angelic. She thought she was dying.

Titan conversely became aware of the dull, raspy sound of Chimera’s wheezing and the utter nothing coming from his own throat. Knees buckling, Titan faltered to the floor, hand grasping at the stone as he crawled towards her in a silent frenzy, hesitantly cupping his dear friend’s face with soft paws, head pressed to hers. Her breath quivered, recognizing the gentle touch and glimmering fur that encased her trembling form in a warmth that seemed foreign and unbelievable. He smelled like spices and sun, strong on her dull senses that have been subjected to the stale, putrid jail cell. She mouthed something weakly, spittle dribbling down her chin. He wiped it away, running his hands gently down her shoulders.

She shuddered, gray and melting in the dark of his shadow.

Chimera always saw beauty in bruises. Never was anyone more moved by the blossom of welts and the flush of cut flesh. He briefly wondered if she would have thought the way she appeared now, broken and stiff, was pretty.

She would. Even this dark place - she would.

“I’m so sorry Chimera...I should have stopped you sooner. I should have been with you before-” he gasped as he nuzzled her forehead, ignoring the blood oozing from her cuts.

Should. Should. Should. He always should have something.

“Titan,” she hissed, “It’s not your fault.”

He felt her cool blood seep into his fur, a jarring sick wetness.

He lowered himself, peering into her sickly yellow eyes that struggled to flutter open. They were pussy, glassy - tired. He ran the pads of his thumbs across her cheeks, wiping away thin tears she didn’t realize had fallen. He kissed the wedge of her snout, nauseated by the coldness of her skin, the stillness of her body other than minute flinches. He wrapped his plush tail around her, fur coated in the filth of her blood and sweat. She collapsed into his body, for what little slack the chains gave her. Pressing gentle fingers to the base of her spines, he massaged her neck, earning an exasperated choke from her.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked in the smallest voice he could muster.

Chimera’s eyes widened, manic and fearful though her body remained defeated and limp. She pressed her face into the crook of his neck. “The same. Always the same...” she sobbed.

He constricted her body, desperate to hold her pieces in place. “Where are you?”

Chimera grit her teeth, “It’s all red. All red and flesh and fog. She’s watching me again. But her hands are around me... I can feel her nails-” she heaved into a wailing bob back and forth, Titan pressing her to his chest.

It was routine for him, holding her, talking her through her delusions. It was the same story each time but progressively getting worse, an assault he couldn’t stop. A nightmare he couldn’t end. At first he thought Chimera simply had many peculiar fears here and there, bad dreams and the like as everyone does. But when her tough facade melted away into pure terror, screaming into the morning because she thought the hand reaching from her throat was real, Titan couldn’t pretend it was nothing. He wished it was nothing.

He loathed to be helpless when he shook her awake, failing to convince her she was safe. How the paralysis of sleep and fear would take her - how his very touch would send shock waves up her spine and out her maw as whines for help. How he was a sailor lost in the midst of her storms, throwing him wave after wave into her darkness. Drowning always inevitable. But the sun would rise and she would be there, resting on the railing of their sinking ship. She’d be pale in his nightmares. Dead. But he would hold her, tell her she was really alive and really there with him. The dark would come and swallow them whole. A story he knew the end to. He’d wake up and in a mad scramble would find Chimera sleeping restlessly in the guest room, tangled in ripped sheets. He’d breathe and slide down the door frame. Content. A moment of relief betrayed by continued suffering.

Titan was her rock though crumbling.

In all their years together, she could only cope with his hands stroking the whole of her back as the terrors would keep her up at night and plague her throughout the day with visions she couldn’t understand nor ones he could ease away. Chimera was always her strongest out in the city where she put on a brave face that day after day cracked slowly, along fault lines that he knew too well - the pinches to her forehead, the distant look in her eyes, the smile that was painfully fake. She tried her best to avoid being a burden though Titan would never consider her as such. It was hard to convince her that this nightmare was his own as well, something he chose to participate in, something he wanted to help heal. She’d look at him like a bug to flick away but like a tick he stuck to her side, sharing in the cursed blood. The gods awful nights and tortured days. The unholy body in alien skin.

Often Titan’s thoughts looped back to Sorrow, the vile witch they visited years ago for some semblance of an answer. It was said she knew everything. Foolish of them to think they would get a straight answer from a creature who delighted in the plights of dragons. The snowy, angelic imperial whose divine body was draped in silk and stars smugly sneered, a soft hand trailing down her own neck to chest, indulging in the deliciousness of their desperation.

“The gods certainly like to choose their favorites, don’t they? How cruel of them,” she laughed sweetly, predatory evil behind cold alabaster eyes.

It was hardly an answer but answer enough. Chimera was a victim of divinity, an ant under a magnifying glass. But what solution they could muster would elude them.

It would break them.

And now sits Chimera, kneeling under a shadow of death, oblivious to the world around her except the all consuming thoughts worming holes in her mind since childhood. Squirming like maggots in a wound, hungry to burrow and fester, their chafing claws scratched at her ears, throbbing rustling heartbeats haunted her sleep and peeled away her resolve. She’d pick at them like dead skin, indulging in habits that would only give her seconds of relief. A fight here. A fight there. Hours of physical training. Her mood was always electric and frenzied, focused on the next thing that would distract her. The worms hollowed the space just under her skin, slithering like plump veins in sickening patterns only she could see. Scratching. Wriggling. Squirming.

Titan often had his aristocratic duties and she knew that’d she’d have to cope alone, avoided by neighboring dragons too fearful or annoyed at the ridgeback who stalked the streets with a fervor that danced on the edge of violence. She suffered in silence, other than her wails that verbalized at the cusp of dawn in the arms of her friend who forced her to share his home, worried what such terrors would make her do. What they did make her do.

The grand library was dead silent. Dark. Titan's feet froze on the cold marble floor that could not be a more obvious sign to leave. She’s gone, he thought briefly - unwillingly - and shook his head. No. No. He can help her. She’s here and he’ll help her.

He found her deep in the basement of the library, surrounded by books meant to be locked up now lay open faced, ghostly runes visibly tearing themselves from the pages. Screaming wails from nowhere bounced off the walls as Chimera sat in the middle of a magic circle, muttering a language not even the Shade knew, lost in thought. Possessed. He yelled to her, held back by an invisible force of her own creation and she turned, face wet and screaming, desperate to end her torment. While an ancient tongue left her lips, she mouthed, help me.

Please.

Titan, filled with a fury and desperation that puppeteered his movements, tore through the magic barrier with a feral violence masked by the ghostly paleness of his face: a visible trace of doubt should he fail.

Why couldn’t he be here sooner.

He pulled her away from the cursed tomes but not without a fight as she flailed, child-like and dangerous, claws narrowly digging into the scruff of his throat. In this effort he forgot how strong she truly was, tangling themselves in a heap of limbs. In a last attempt to summon some gods’ forsaken horror, Chimera flew to a book, screeching its words like a siren until Titan grabbed her by face, tearing her away along with a vibrant strip of flesh from chin to eyebrow. Reeling back in pain and blinded by blood, she collapsed, pooled in sweat and sobs as she held her cheek, crying for it all to end, for the maggots in her brain to cease their chatter. Her back arched and she tore at her scales as if covered in ants, rolling along the cool floor to disperse the heat in her muscles. Titan loomed over her, hands unsure what to hold, how to touch. It was a piercing self awareness of his vulnerability in that moment. He heard yelling from above, likely guards posted outside. Chimera kept screaming, scratching, panting, crying. He shakily stared at his paws, fur now sticky with sweat and blood and grime. He wiped his hands in frantic motions, desperate to clean himself of the viscera he drew but it only smeared and matted his fur in pungent red. It was all wrong. Everything was wrong. He didn’t know what to do.

He didn’t know what to do.

He was beside her again now, no more confident than before but he could hide that, for now. His arms wrapped around her shoulders as she wailed, biting into his flesh, drawing crimson over his sunset fur. The pain was dull and fleeting while his thoughts were scattered and distant in the love he wished was enough. Her ribs cracked as she heaved in coughing fits, delicate and ready to burst. He wanted the floor to fall away, enveloping them in a comforting darkness - a place of attractive nothingness. He wished for a lot of things in that moment.

His tailed tightened, python-tight and unwillingly to let go. The torn flesh cutting across her eye festered, swollen and red. He forced himself to keep from turning away. You did that. Her sobs slowed and she was coming back to the present, away from the pit of worms who for now would slumber, buried deep under her skin, ghosts pricking their nails in anticipation against her bones. He stared at the chains bolted to the wall. Brittle.

“Chimera?”

She hung her head. Resigned.

“I want you to run.”

#I wanted to cry writing this #chimera and titan's relationship is so important to me and ugh #slam dunks my feelings into a trashcan #anyway I like commas can you tell #chimera #titan #fr lore #flight rising #trauma #blood #maggots #my art #tundra #ridgeback

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wonder-womans-ex · 3 years

Text

Curtain Call

Act One, Scene Five

Sirius knows he’s petty. Extremely so. Petty enough to send the elevator all the way down to the ground floor so that Remus has to either take the stairs or wait, at least.

What Remus said is still wheeling in his mind. Remus kissed someone else. It hurts, yeah, but he’ll put on his brave face. He’ll move on.

The thing that hurts most—the thing he can’t ignore or get over—is that he’s not sure whether he’s more upset that Remus cheated, more upset that Remus dumped him, or more upset that Remus didn’t give him the chance to break it off. Remus should have owned up to it, and he should have given Sirius that choice. It’s like he said when before he left the staff room—maybe he would have ended things, maybe he wouldn’t have.

He should have at least had the option to break Remus’s heart like Remus broke his, but instead Remus just broke his twice.

Sure enough, Remus is five minutes late to the seminar, and Sirius knows that Lily’s pissed. What he doesn’t know is whether she’s pissed at Remus, or if she’s figured out that Sirius is the reason behind the delay and is pissed at him. She seems the type to just know these things.

He’s pretty sure he’s not imagining her glare in his direction when she says, “We’ll start in a minute or two; John will be back by then with the papers we need for today’s lecture,” but he decides to ignore it. After all, if there’s one thing he’s good at, it’s ignoring his problems.

Well, and running away from them. It depends on the day and what mood he’s in.

He also doesn’t miss the fact that when Remus does return, he pulls the classic ‘take one and pass it on’ instead of handing out the papers one by one. It’s probably so that he doesn’t have to look Sirius in the face.

When the stack reaches him, Sirius has to reach back a whole row of seats to get to the next person. He almost tips over in his chair, but manages to save himself a sore tailbone—and a whole lot of embarrassment—at the last minute.

The page is split into five sections: theme, topic, setting, characters, and story objective. He remembers, vaguely, learning some of this in grade seven, but that’s where his memory blanks. (What the everloving fuck is a story objective?)

Apparently he’s about to find out.

Lily claps her hands together in an incredibly teacher-like way. If he didn’t know better, he would have a hard time believing this is the same woman who so aggressively played matchmaker (or maybe she was actually trying to drive them further away from each other; thinking back on it, Sirius can’t actually tell) only a few minutes before. “Well,” she says, addressing the room at large, “who can tell me what a theme is?”

There are a few raised hands, and she calls on the boy just behind Sirius, with chocolate-brown hair and more freckles than he can count. “It’s what the story is about. But like, in an abstract way.”

“Very good.” Lily takes a whiteboard marker out of her jeans pocket. Turning to the board, she draws a T-table, labeling one side theme and the other topic. Under the first heading, she writes abstract, and, across from it, concrete.

“Theme and topic are often confused, because they’re both what a story is about. But—what’s your name?”

“Benjy. Benjy Fenwick,” says the freckled boy.

“But Benjy here has hit the nail on the head. The difference between theme and topic is that a theme is abstract—a concept, or an idea, or a feeling—while a topic is concrete—such as a person, place, thing, or event….”

Sirius begins to zone out. Absentmindedly, he grabs a pencil and begins sketching on the smooth, polished wood of his desk. A circle, an oval, a line here and there, some shading—slowly, his doodle begins to take shape. By the time Lily says, “Now, who can give me some examples of a good story theme?” and people start calling out their answers, he’s perfected the glint in his anime-style eye.

“One last one. How about you, by the back, with the Blue Jays shirt?”

(Of course she’s pretending she doesn’t know his name. Lucky him—he’s always wanted to be demoted back to ‘hey, you.’)

His head jerks up. “Uh, relationships,” he says, because he’s a walking cliche and, yes, of course that’s the only thing on his mind. Why wouldn’t it be?

“There’s an interesting one.” She adds it to the board, right underneath hardship, pressing hard enough that the nib of the pen squeaks. “It could technically be counted as a topic, too, but it works well as a theme.”

There’s a pause as she looks around, seemingly searching for a suitable place to put her pen. Finally, she gives up, tucking it behind her ear.

“What I want everyone to do now is think carefully about what theme they want to write about. You can pick as many as you want, and you can add more later, but it’s easiest to focus on just two or three. You can pick one of the ones we came up with here, or it can be something totally different, but make sure it’s something that speaks to you.”

Her words resonate in Sirius’s mind. Something that speaks to him? He starts to write, his large printing cramped in the tiny box, and he gets halfway through the second C before he erases it again. He has to think for a minute. He doesn’t want to write about success, not when there’s so little of it in his life right now, but he doesn’t want to write about something dark, like suffering, either.

Loss, he puts down with finality. On second thought, he adds healing. And then, just because he feels like it, friendship.

The clock on the wall says they have twelve more minutes before they’re finished; he wonders what else they’ll do before the class ends. Right now, the only sound in the room is the quiet scratching of pencils—soothing, he must admit, even though he personally prefers the excitement of applause—and it seems as though he’s the only one who’s finished.

He lets himself look around, his eyes flickering from the clock to the whiteboard to the person sitting to his left. They dart to the door at the other side of the hall, and forward to where Remus is... staring right back at him.

The two lock eyes for a good fifteen seconds before Remus lowers his gaze to the floor. It’s not much of a victory, Sirius knows, but it’s a victory nonetheless.

So why doesn’t it feel like one?

There’s not time to burrow any deeper into his own thoughts, however, because Lily is writing once more on the board. Unfortunately for him, he can’t see what she’s written—even when she turns around—because her head is in the way.

“I assume most of you have your themes, and even if you don’t, you can always come back to it. Right now, we’re going to move onto topic—surprise surprise, also what the story is about, but this time on a more concrete scale. Let’s take Romeo and Juliet, for instance, because I’m fairly sure it’s a story we all know. Does anyone have any idea what the topic is?”

Silence.

Sirius, usually the self-aware one in any situation (but apparently not this one), knows there are two possible reasons as to why he raises his hand. Unfortunately, he does not know which of them it is. The first is simple—he’s confident has the answer, and he wants to share it. The second is both a little more complex and a little more likely, and that is that he doesn’t know what the answer is and maybe, just maybe, he wants to prove to Remus he’s not afraid to take risks.

Either way, his tentative “Love?” is declared—spoiler alert—incorrect.

“Wrong,” Lily says. “Love is a theme, not a topic. Try again.”

Well, he wasn’t expecting a second chance. (It seems he only ever gets them when he’s unprepared.) (Maybe there’s a lesson in that.)

“Um… people in love?” If the first answer wasn’t right, this one won’t be either. He knows that. But it is, frankly, all he can come up with.

“Ding-a-ling-a-ling,” Lily deadpans, which actually sounds a little funny in that accent of hers. He’s not going to mention that, though, because he’s on pretty thin ice already where she’s concerned. “Correct. Yes, maybe they sound like basically the same thing, but they’re not. The way I like to put it is this: if you can draw a picture of it, chances are it’s the topic. If you can’t, chances are it’s the theme.” After a moment, she adds, “I probably should have said that at the beginning. Whatever.”

This causes Remus’s lips to twitch up into a smile. In fact, it’s only just now that Sirius realizes he’s watching Remus at all—he could have sworn he stopped—and he forces himself to look away.

But he really can’t deny it any longer. He really can’t deny that that little smile, happy and pure with just a hint of mischief, still makes his heart pound and his brain turn to mush. He really can’t deny that despite everything—despite the breakup, and the recent confession, and the promises made late at night that he’s getting over this, he really is…

He’s still in desperate, painful, middle-grade YA novel love with Remus/John/does-it-really-matter-what-his-name-is Lupin.

#wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #lily evans #remus x sirius #muggle au #university au #I really hate this chapter but whatever #it needed to be published

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fandom-junkie2020 · 4 years

Text

Asshole

Summary- Carl doesn’t seem to get that Noah and you are just friends. His timing is impeccable.

- - - - - - -

Carl and I had been fighting a lot. Most of the time it was over little things like not picking up shirts or getting in each other's way but sometimes it got bad. We would both scream at each other until one of us walked out. Normally one of us would apologize and we would go back to being our normal selves. Today we were fighting about weather or not I could go on a run. I of coarse wanted to go but Carl insisted that it was to dangerous.

"No you're not going! It's to dangerous for you to go out there!" He yelled. I rolled my eyes.

"Oh come on, Carl! I go on runs all the time! What makes this time any different?" I asked.

"The difference is that we don't know these people! Just because Glenn and Noah are going with you doesn't mean you'll be safe! The other people who are going don't know us and we don't know them! We need to make sure we can trust them first!" He yelled. I crossed my arms over my chest.

"Do you not trust Glenn and Noah to keep me safe and for me to keep them safe? Last time I checked both of them have saved our asses more then once! I can't believe you right now!" I yelled.

"That's not what I'm saying and you know that! Even though Glenn and Noah can keep you safe you would be going out there without anyone else that you know! They don't care weather you die or not. All they care about is getting what they need and getting back here safe and sound!" He started pointing towards the town. His face was contorted with anger.

"You've got to be kidding me! Noah aside from you is one of my best friends and like a brother to me. Glenn has been like a father to me! Just because we're dating doesn't mean that you get to tell me what to do, Carl!" I yelled back at him as I uncrossed my arms. He took a step towards me.

"Fine go ahead, die for all I care! It wouldn't make a difference anyways." He normally spoke the last part. Tears started to gather in my eyes and I looked down.

"Fine, if that's how you really feel." I said and walked out and towards the van that Glenn, Noah, some other Alexandrian's, and myself would be taking on the run. Carl hadn't fallowed me which made me even more sad then I already was. I walked up to Glenn and Noah.

"You guys ready for the run?" I asked.

"Yeah we're all set. Tara and Eugene are going to come with us so we have some extra hands." Glenn smiled. I laughed.

"When are they going to get together?" I asked and they both laughed. Glenn walked away, probably to see if we had everything we needed. Noah placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Hey, you okay?" He asked. I nodded. He laughed.

"You know I may not have been here long but I've been here long enough to tell when you're upset." He said. I looked down at my shoes.

"Carl and me got into a fight. He said some things that he probably didn't mean to say." I whispered. I looked back up at Noah and his face looked concerned. He pulled me in for a hug and I gladly hugged back.

"How about when we get back I go and kick his ass?" He laughed and I laughed into his chest.

"I'm sure we'll work things out. We always do." We pulled apart and we both smiled at each other.

We had already lost Aiden. He ended up getting stuck on some metal that was sticking out of one of the walls in the broken down building we were in. Nicholas just left him. Left him to die. Left his friend to get eaten alive by walkers. How can you be a community if you won't protect and put your life on the line. In this life you have to find people who are willing to risk their lives to save yours.

Nicholas was running ahead of Glenn, Noah, and me. He ran outside as we were running into the main room. Walkers were pouring out of all the doors except for the revolving door that was placed in the center of a glass wall. We ran towards it as Nicholas ran back in. Now we were all stuck in the door. Glenn, Noah, and I were in one side and had very little room for moment. Nicholas was stuck in the other side with enough room to move around.

"Maybe we can shoot past them? You have guns." Nicholas suggested. We were all holding the doors so that the walkers couldn't get past.

"You have all the amo" Glenn yelled. We started to panic but only at a small scale.

"Well we gotta do something, man" Nicholas yelled. "We'll die in here." He said.

"Yeah no shit, Sherlock!" I yelled at him.

"There has to be another way. There has to be." Noah said.

Then we heard honking from outside and banging.

"Hey" it was Eugene. Thank god he could do something besides cower in fear. He continued to yell and bang against the side of the car as he drove away slowly. That cleared one side of the door.

"Alright. Alright. I need you three. Hey! Hey, Nicholas!" Glenn yelled catching Nicholas's attention "You all have to keep the door steady so I can break the glass. Then you can push out and then get the rifles. We should be all set after that." Noah and I sat on the floor holding the door so that Glenn could brake the glass with the rifle that he had with him. Nicholas did the same.

Glenn picked up his rifle and started to take long hits at the glass.

"No! No! Stop it's not safe." Nicholas yelled. Glenn stopped hitting the glass and Noah and I looked over. The door on Nicholas's side started to look like it would let walkers in. "It's not going to break." He said.

"It's the only way" Glenn said.

"No it's not going to break." Nicholas yelled. Noah stood up and looked at Nicholas. I still sat on the floor trying to keep the door closed.

"It will. We can get out." Noah said.

"Ok ready we're going to count to three. One. Two. Three." Glenn said and once he did Nicholas pushed open his side of the door exposing the side I was keeping closed. I quickly got up and pushed the other side closed along with Glenn and Noah.

"Hey. Hey. Hey" Noah and I yelled.

"No. No, Nicholas don't" Glenn yelled as Nicholas started to squeeze his body out the door. Nicholas wasn't giving up but was struggling to get himself out of the door. Arms started reaching for Noah and I.

"Nicholas get back in that door or I swear to god I will kill you myself one way or another!" I yelled.

Eventually Nicholas pushed himself out the door and he fell to the ground and took off. We couldn't close the door. All the walker arms got in the way making it impossible for us to shut it. My eyes welted up with tears and started falling down my face. Then walkers started grabbing at mine and Noah's legs. Noah looked at me and pushed me back so that the walkers couldn't get my legs.

"Noah!" I yelled. Glenn and me held on to his arms as walkers started to drag him through the door. Noah looked me straight in the eyes and said,

"Don't let go" then he was swept away into a sea of walkers. Glenn and me pressed ourselves up against the glass.

"Noah!" Glenn and I yelled. Then out of no where Noah was thrown against they glass. Glenn and I backed up and watching in horror as the walkers held him against the glass and bit into his shoulders. Then they started to dig into his face, trying to get as much as they could out of him. His screams were stuck in my mind. That was all I could here. The sound of his screams and sound of his skin getting ripped off his body as blood gushed from his wounds. Blood covered the glass, dripping down the glass like water dripping down a window when it rained.

I was sobbing now. I had just lost my best friend. Someone who I considered a brother in the short time that he was with the group. Whenever we would hang out we would pretend the world hadn't gone to shit. Blood started to seep under the door causing the blood to get over my pants and hands as well as Glenns. Glenn sat there in horror as I sobbed.

Once we couldn't see Noah anymore Glenn stood up and helped me up as well. He picked up the bag and rifle that he had left on the floor. He took a step back and ran into the door. It opened quickly. He then grabbed my hand and pulled me away from the walkers. We ran in the direction that we had seen Eugene drive the van. Once we had reached so we could see it Glenn let go of my hand and sprinted. We could see Nicholas from here. Once Glenn reached him he started to punch him until he was out cold.

"Where's Noah?" Eugene asked. Glenn gave him a look and walked around the back of the van. Eugene looked at me.

"He's gone." I whispered.

When we arrived at Alexandria they opened the gates so we could get in. Glenn and Eugene got out of the front seats while I helped people get an injured Tara out of the back. Nicholas was still unconscious. Once they had taken Tara to see Pete I was just standing in the middle of the street starring at my hands. Tears started to drip down my face once more.

"Y/N!" I heard someone yell. I didn't respond and I didn't move. "Where is she?" The voice yelled again. Then I saw feet in front of mine. "Y/N? Are you hurt?" They asked concerned. I shook my head no. "What's wrong?" They asked.

"He's gone." I whispered.

"What?" They asked. Damn this person asks a lot of questions.

"He's gone." I said. I was still looking at my hands. Red. That's all I could see now.

"Who's gone?" They asked. I looked up to see Carl. His face was lace with concern. I wasn't even that mad at him anymore. All I could think about was Noah.

"Noah." I said and then broke down in the middle of the street. Before I hit the ground Carl caught me. He held me up by wrapping his arms around my waist and then we both slowly sunk to the ground. I started to sob loudly and violently.

"Shhh it's okay. It's okay. Everything will be okay." He whispered in my ear. I placed my head in my hands and sobbed into Carl's chest.

"How? How can everything be okay if he's gone?" I sobbed. He started to rub circles into my back.

"It'll be okay. You still have me." He said sadly. I looked up at him the best I could because of his death grip.

"No I don't." I said "You said that-that." I started sobbing again. "You said y-you didn't c-care if I d-died." I started hiccupping.

"I know. I know I did. I'm so sorry. I was angry and I just said whatever came out." Tears now started running down his face and we were both crying in the street. "I don't know what I would have done if that had been you." He started sobbing as well. I pulled him in for another hug and we both buried our heads in each other's shoulders.

"I love you so much." I said. "Even if you were a dick." I tried laughing but it sounded like crying. Carl did the same.

"I love you too, asshole." He replied.

#carl grimes #the walking dead #rick grimes #glenn rhee #fanfic #angst #daryl dixon

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kth1 · 4 years

Text

Crosscurrents [Hoseok x Reader] Part 1

Crosscurrents - Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Genre: The Little Mermaid AU | Fantasy AU | Series Pairing: Mermaid!Hoseok x Princess!Reader Featuring: BTS Princes Warnings: Angst, fluff, rated G, sorry no smut, mentions of pain, eventual character death, it’s just a fantasy story. W/C: 6k Summary: Hoseok is a carefree middle child among seven princes, each running one of the seven seas. With a curious nature to study the world above, he makes several routine visits to the surface, once even saving an alluring princess who he grows very smitten by. With a strong determination to meet his lovely princess, Hoseok makes a risky deal with the ocean’s enchantress to become human. Author’s Note: This fic is something I was utterly happy and exited to write. Mermaids and fantasy stories, yippee. Thank you all who support me. Portions of the fic is unedited. 🐚🧜‍♂️

Credits: Story includes strong elements from Hans Christian Andersen’s ‘The Little Mermaid’; Disney’s ‘The Little Mermaid’; and Michiko Yokote’s manga ‘Mermaid Melody’. Beta Reader: @shadowsremedy has helped me with a handful of passages throughout the course of this story, thank you so much.

☀ CROSSCURRENT MASTERLIST ☀

Miles away under the sun-kissed surface of the ocean, where the water is clear as crystal and blue as the contrasting sky above – resided populations of beautiful mythical creatures. Down in the lowest depths, the most scarce of areas that no human would ever dare to scavenge, lived the Mer-people.

Underwater forestry, plants, organisms of wondrous visions illuminating the deepest pits of the oceans. Fishes of all sizes and shapes occupied the area, weaving through the stems and leaves of charted trees along the motion of the currents. Just as birds fly among the surface. Gorgeous sands decorated the floor along with seven separate kingdoms enriched with enchanting palaces, each declaring a claim to their own sea.

Each palace, unique in their own way. Accommodating their surrounding habitats. Each of the seven districts ruled under the marvelous Mer-King, and each sea acquainted a heavenly, handsome prince. Kingdoms decorated with coral walls, sculpted sandstone slates and amber pointed windows. Roofs made from the finest and largest of mussel-shells, clams and hidden glittering pearls and jewels. Stones of riches, easily the most expensive gems that belonged in the pits of the hidden worlds.

The Mer-King seeded the realms with seven little princes who were all very beautiful children in their own distinctive ways. For each Prince, were given a household to look after, to grow up with, and study in practice to control their provinces.

Within the Arctic Ocean, where merfolk varied in shades of murky indigo and dotted with black spots was inhabited by the eldest of sons, Prince Seokjin. The Indian Ocean decorating the waves with scales of vibrant oranges complimented with a singular stripe of white down the backside, consisted Prince Yoongi. The cold of the Antarctic rested Prince Namjoon, along with his kingdom of deep purple-to-silver tailed scaly family. Tails irradiated a glow just like the moon reflecting on water.

Creatures in the North and South Pacific diverse in tropical colors, salmon pink beings belonging to Prince Jimin in the north, and bright crisp yellow folks ruled under the south’s youngest, Prince Jungkook. The last two kingdoms lay in the Atlantic Ocean. Beautiful deep green tails of the north, quipped with touches of holographic shine belonged to Prince Taehyung. Lastly, the region in the South Atlantic was full of rays of aqua blue and speckled with gold – is where Prince Hoseok lives.

Throughout their childhoods, given brief age gaps and the stretch of locations between another, the brothers all grew up together. Frequent visits, family gatherings being a constant presence with the young boys. All merfolk belonged to another, they took after another and populated the sea floor. Fishes would swim up, gently being held, feeding out of the hands of mermaids and mermen. Eventually within a mer-person’s life, they will be acquainted with a creature of any species. A forever buddy that becomes their pet, their friend, and family.

The beauty of the South Atlantic Ocean kingdom with a magnificent palace that had astounding flowers growing between the cracks of the walls in each apartment and room, was decorated with a large garden in the front. Full of dark and iridescent baby-blue trees with fruits that glittered like gold. Matching the specs of gold that embellished the tails of the locals. Flowers blazed with hues of butterscotch yellows, resembling the bright and burning sun from the surface above. Bushes and smaller shrubs matched the color of sulfur.

Hoseok was certainly a singular child, one who was quiet and thoughtful in group settings, but was the loudest and most careless when it came to freedom. His skin was soft and delicate, like the touch of a sunflower leaf. His eyes sparked a deep blue, twisted with an almond mix of brown. His tail was no doubt the most stunning in his sector, outshining others around him, a tell-tailed sign that he was of royalty. But the most notable of signs that screams royalty was the unique earring that never left Hoseok’s lobe.

Each handsome prince was given a dedicated pearl at their coming of age ceremonies, each identifying with their tail color. To which they must protect and kept safe for the sake of their empires. For the fact that these pearls harness great mystical powers, such power compacted within one tiny jewel. But this power could completely destroy a nation if given to the wrong hands, and if their owners neglect their duties.

Nothing pleased Prince Hoseok more than hearing about the unreachable world from above. Human beings who lived on land, not within the sea. Stories fascinated the curious mind of Hoseok, constantly being riddled with tales of these notorious humans. Over time, with the help of Nannies and families, Hoseok’s knowledge grew when it came to the world that was simply out of reach. Ships, towns, land animals, you name it.

Over the course of his younger days, he ventured out into the sea, accompanied by his trusty companion, Kiko – a leafy sea dragon. Together they collected a handful of unknown knick knacks, thingamajigs, and doohickeys that they forged for from shipwrecks. To this day – Hoseok still makes these trips, ventured out further into the sea without supervision, even breaking the surface of the water to catch a glimpse of the amazing world.

Nights where he could sneak away, rise to the surface and lay under the moonlight in the clefts of the rocks. Watching lights from the shoreline flicker dimly, the casted stars sparkling the sky in beautiful constellations.

“It’s so beautiful up here, isn’t it Kiko?” Hoseok spoke towards the leafy sea dragon that circled around his fins which remained dipped in the water. He sighed, breathing in the foreign air, the dryness cutting into his lungs. The wind played with his shaggy hair, his earring dangling along. His eyes set firmly on the coast, waves easing in and out at the ridge of the bay. Everything up here was so unfamiliar to Hoseok, so tempting and entertaining.

“There’s beautiful places all over. And under.” Kiko mused back. Skeptical and cautious as she grew accustomed to Hoseok’s nightly adventures. There was no way she could talk the Prince out of his plans, ever.

“But up here is so – is so,” he pauses. Noticing a small child holding an elder woman’s hand, probably enjoying a nightly walk on the beach. “… Amazing.”

The high church-towers were in view within the town that lined the coast. Carriages and music playing in the distance, even the chime of bells ringing. The simple fact that he could not go there himself caused him to yearn for it more, wish for it to happen in his dreams. This Prince was indeed passionate about the land before him, stretching his hands towards the air.

“Careful yourself, Hoseok.” Kiko warned. “It’s late, shouldn’t we be heading back before someone notices your disappearance?”

He nodded, with his eyes still trained on the silhouettes of the strolling humans. Watching them turn up a set of stairs and disappearing behind the curve of the walkway. He was fascinated, the kinship between humans wasn’t much different from his to his folks. Humans were so distant, but they seemed so similar to him.

A small tug on his fin caught his attention, seeing his little buddy pulling him. “Let’s go, you have a busy day tomorrow.”

On the swim back, descending down into the dept of the sea, Hoseok reminisced his favorite times above water. The early mornings, the midday views of seagulls flying high above in flocks, the sunsets were clouds scattered the sky and painted in violets, reds, and oranges. Watching the Sun extinguish into the horizons plane as the cool of the night sky took over.

Hoseok loved the upper world and all its inhabitants so very much.

Daybreak tickled the waters, reflections of lights bouncing and refracting off another in the clear-cut liquids. It shined through Hoseok’s large amber window, casting a ray on his slumbering face causing him to wince. His body curled tighter in his clam-based bed; a thicket of woven blankets made of the finest kelp keeping him comfortable. Bio-luminescent decorations that drifted within his quarters losing their dim glows.

Shortly, his door would be knocked upon. Guards prepared to assist him along his daily routines, breakfast, taking a swim through the gardens, fitting for dresswear. Today, his brothers were due for a visit – since his kingdom was hosting the annual Festival of the Arts this year, as the event rotated between each realm every year.

It was always a delight to seek comfort from his siblings, to talk among another with similar thoughts and feelings as each and every single one of them were in the same shoes – in this case, fins. They were close to another regardless of the actual distance of their homes. And he was more than happy to celebrate the festivities and provide his best hosting service.

Prince Jungkook was the first to have arrived along with his party, very atypical of the youngest who outshines the mer-world quite frankly with his beaming yellow tail and natural abilities. His excitement to see his older brother urgently was overwhelming as he searched throughout the Aqua realm’s palace for Hoseok. Wittingly enough, he knew Hoseok’s patterns, the layout of the entire home.

“Hyung!” Rang through the water – not sounding quick enough for Hoseok to process before the bulldozing clash of his body into another’s. Tough arms circled Hoseok, tightening in a rush just in time for him to tilt his head to catch the sight of jet-black hair and a flash of canary yellow.

“Ah, Jungkook. You nearly gave me a heart attack!” Hoseok hollers. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

Jungkook laughs, holding his brother tight and against his will, “I’m sorry Hobi – it won’t happen again.” The scrunch of Jungkook’s nose and the teasing smile made his quick apology sound completely fake.

“You’ve filled out more I see.” He notes the stature of Jungkook from the last time he’s seen him. Chest expanding further, his hair longer and pulled in a half bun with loose ends spilling out around his fringe. The twinkle of Jungkook’s yellow pearl lays just between his clavicles on a threaded necklace. But his youngest brother still adorned his childlike smile, large eyes popping out with animation.

“Indeed, I have.” Said the yellow tailed man.

“Have you prepared well for the ceremony tonight?” Hoseok questioned while shifting out of the other man’s clutch, fluttering his fingers through his case of human books. Careful not to tear the thinned papers that were not made for the water.

They were in the secondary study – dedicated to Hoseok’s cherished collectibles of human items that drifted down to the sea floor. It was a private area, filled with wonder and intertwining plants. So many new and beautiful objects decorated the interior of the room along with the drifting innocent fishes that floated around like fruit flies.

Jungkook grabbed hold of his brothers’ hand, tearing him past the seaweed curtains and out of the room. “I need help with a part of the choreography – I’m not sure what to do.”

Each of the seven princes were a part of the annual festival, performing their own pieces of art. Music surrounded their lives, and each prince specialized in one of the three professions: Singer. Dancer. Composer.

In tune with another – they create a perfect melody, a rhythm they cast into the waters. And all together they grow stronger with the help of their pearls.

“Let’s not head to the ballroom – I’m sure they are still setting up.”

“Jungkook! Sir!! Prince!” A peep of a scream came from the corner, a frantic Moorish Idol fish bee-lining towards the two still Princes. “Don’t you bolt off like that again! I can’t catch up with your speed!” it pants as it swarms around Jungkook’s face.

“Gotta be quicker, Pip!” Jungkook giggled, using his fingers to brush against his tuckered-out buddy.

Pip eyed Hoseok, recognizing the older Prince and jumped in embarrassment. “Prince, I apologize! I didn’t greet you properly, please I am so dearly sorry!”

“No need for formalities.” A wave of Hoseok’s hand hushed Pip’s words. “It’s nice to see you again. Now – about that choreography…”

The rooms were lit to the high-nine. Capacity of several variations of flourished colored tails decorated Hoseok’s palace – events like these are his favorite. Not only is he surrounded by his school, he’s encircled by his glorious brothers. The only thing that stressed out the aqua tailed prince, wasn’t the planning of events, fitting for costumes, dresswear, or deciding the best dishes to cater. The performance he practiced for day in and day out alike his brothers – what stressed Hoseok out was the company of his father, the Mer-King himself who only showed his presence for special occasions.

Each Prince were presented in front of the crowd of hundreds, their titles in all. Dolled up to accommodate the affair with engaging chains that wrapped around their waists and wrists, extra clam and shell accessories added to decorate around their loose arms and tail. Designed capes, hip skirts, and sheer fabrics that moved with the waves as they would do with the wind from above. Crowns made from wreaths of white lilies with bejeweled opal white pearls dangling down the band.

One by one they presented their acts along the stage, an entertaining uproar surpassed through the crowds from the Royal’s concert. The dancers who weaved like fluid coil to the cords of music were nonother than the feisty topaz yellow Jungkook, the carefree aquamarine dazzled Hoseok, and the flirtatious yet ditzy salmon pink royal, Prince Jimin.

Contrasting the dancers were the stunning vocalists of the group, Seokjin and Taehyung. Together they crafted a harmonious aura with their lyrics and tones. Entreating voices far sweeter than any human or mer-folk around.

Princes Namjoon and Yoongi of the Antarctic and Indian Oceans were strong composers, masters in a range of musical instruments. Their wits, knowledge, and pure love for the magical symphonies poured out of their bodies through devices and tools. Drafting tunes for songs every breathing moment.

It was late once again as Hoseok frustratedly swam up to his usual cove. Hoisting his body up on a smooth rocky islet that broke through the surface. Up here, Hoseok felt light and at ease. Repressing the tensions that bellowed below in the pit of his realm. The breeze was steady and refreshing, toying with the stands of his dampened hair and drying off the droplets of water that trickled down his skin.

He shed the tokens that deemed his high rank prior to wondering off from the palace, only keeping his stationary earpiece securely in. The clouds floating are coated in golden and rosy shades, evening stars piercing the sky in the dimming east. The nearing night looked extraordinary in Hoseok’s eyes.

A large ship with three white masts settled still on the water with only one sail unraveled. People littered the deck, music and song resounded from the vessels, and soon after when the night casted over the sky, the light of hundreds of lamps burst into view.

It was odd for a ship to be sailed far out during this time, even more peculiar to have a scatter of lights beaming from floating lamps that hovered into the air.

He swam close to the captain’s cabin being cautious to stay low in the water, and with every rock of the waves Hoseok was able to look through the clear windowpanes. Kiko stayed close to Hoseok, wiggling herself into his hand for security as they drawn near the scary object that rested on the water.

There were many richly dressed humans within, gowns and suits decorating each member in a fashion. The most bewitching of them, a person who stood out of the crowd and stared into the far distance of the water was a young princess with flowing thick hair. No doubt in Hoseok’s mind that this beauty was no younger than him, and he felt completely captivated by her looks.

A festival was being celebrated on the same day Hoseok’s home celebrated his. In honor of this princess’s birthday the crew were dancing and singing on the upper deck, similar to how Hoseok’s family just partook on a stage deep below. It was fascinating his wondering eyes, activities so alike to his own. And the moment the princess appeared among the lively bunch, rockets shot up into the air, turning the night into day.

The loud boom of cracks sizzling into the air scared Hoseok and Kiko, forcing him to dip his head back under the surface.

“Let’s go back! This isn’t safe!” Kiko chimed in, shaking her frail leafy body.

Hoseok looked up through the plane of water, eyes wide with shock. Not once has he ever seen this lightshow before. These weren’t cracks of blue zigzags that dressed the sky like lightning, theses were bright loud bangs of noise that sparked fire.

Through his perception, he watched the glows vanish. Until another boom ripped through the air along with another flash of light. “Hold on.” He says.

The curious merman raised his head above water again to witness a scene of falling stars upon him. A fiery shower he surely has never seen before tonight. It was like large suns revolved around his head, the brightest of fishes swam in the air that reflected on the clear glass-slate of water of the sea. Who knew humans could have such power.

The princess could be seen distinctly throughout the sailors that laughed and jested with glee. Her face adorned with a wide smile, one that shined so bright. “Oh – she’s so beautiful, isn’t she?”

It was later now, but Hoseok couldn’t take himself away from the ship and the beautiful young princess. She remained looking through that cabin window, rocking to and fro by the motion of the sea. He was enchanted by her, charmed by this unique being. There was something about her.

“Would you look at her?” Hoseok examined, smiling to himself. “She’s breathtaking.”

Kiko fluttered around Hoseok, a nervous wreck of a fish as she sensed an unnerving suspicion. “Please, we must go back. We’ve overstayed too long.”

“Oh poppycock. The palace is in perfect condition. Nobody will notice me missing.”

“Sir – “

There was foaming and fermentation in the depths beneath causing the ship to tilt faster. Waves rose high and violent in a span of minutes. Sails were spread, a commotion coming from the desk resounded. A distant thunder was heard, rumbling through the space above.

“Ah – father…” Hoseok snapped his head, “He’s angry.”

“I told you we must go!”

Hoseok and Kiko both swam a few meters down after once last glance at the ship that furled their sails once more. Until a sudden pound echoed through the waves. The great vessel tossed and turned on the volatile waters like a rowboat as the waves rose to an extreme height. It towered over the ship, clashing forcefully into the deck and submerging the manmade object. Water filled the cavities of the deck, the stout masts bent under the swirling billows.

“Hoseok!” Kiko shouted at the stunned merman who watched with wide eyes. An internal struggle inside him to tell him to go back to the Mer-King or to help the sinking ship. “We need to go!”

“I can’t! It’s going to turn over into the sea!”

Just as he guessed, the crew among the vessel was in terrible danger; since he himself had to beware the shattered beams that tore away from the vessel and splashed down above him. Wreckage both floating and sinking, causing hazards to think twice about.

“Get him to stop Kiko, tell him I’m fine! Just stop the storm!” Hoseok shooed his seahorse away, heading himself to the surface and ignoring the pleading screams.

It was pitch dark above, so dark that he could not distinguish anything until a flash of lightning disclosed to him the whole of wreck. Burning flames above the water. Hoseok only felt urgent for his wondrous princess as he sought her out the instant the ship kissed the bottom of the seafloor.

Hoseok knows no human can breathe underwater, he knows the only times he’s seen a human up close were the bodies of corpses that drifted down into the depths. He did not want that fate for the princess.

He dove himself through the shards and fragments that sprinkled within the water regardless of the danger he was inducing but with his steady swim he found the princess having difficulty holding her head high. Her eyes already closed while clutching her frame around a piece of driftwood, inevitably would have drowned completely if it wasn’t for the aqua blue merman who came to the rescue. Bearing the force of the heavy current, holding the princess above the water’s surface.

The sun rose in the horizon towards morning, by then the ongoing storm had seized and there weren’t any traces of remains from the shipwreck. Rays of lights restored color to the princess’s cheeks, though her eyes remained closed. Her dampened dress riddled with sand and stray leaves of seaweed.

They lay off in a secluded cove far from the casually populated beach. Surrounding cliffs hiding them away. Hoseok laid gazing up at the arresting princess, stroking the strand of wet hair away from her face. Her skin was soft like a rose petal, and a slight pink undertone hid beneath its expanse. “Please wake.” He whispered as he studied her features.

This was the first time Hoseok laid about the land, just shy of the waters reach. He could see the dry green wood that extended along the coast, cliffs and mountains drawn clearer. Firm quartz sand which he now occupied along with his new companion. He turned her face towards the rising sun that was illuminating the world.

A quiet sound escaped the mouth of the princess, surprising the merman suddenly. He leaned back, head blocking the sun from direct view of her face while she sleepily opened them. The haze of her eyes coated her sight, looking at the figure that was in view. She grumbled, blinking rapidly to readjust the image before her. A stranger hovered over her, a concerned look across their handsome face as they looked down at her in curiosity. Golden brown hair flowed around; a glint of blue entrapped into his brown almond eyes.

“Hello,” Hoseok whispered, lifting the corner of his lips up.

“Who-“

Hoseok shifted the moment he heard of loud barking noise coming from the side of a cliff. His movement caused the piercing rays of light to shine into the princess’s eyes, blinding her some more.

The merman jolted away from the shore in a panic, hiding behind some stones further into the sea. Hoseok watched from afar with unyielding attention, a black four-legged being running towards the reviving princess. A small group of men followed suit to the black figure who alerted the humans of its findings.

“Oh Princess!” one shouted as they ran over. They smiled kindly down at her, assisting her off the sands and into a blanket. “Princess Y/n, are you hurt?”

She was dazed and confused, checking her surroundings for the other person she just saw. Did she see someone or was it her imagination? Who had saved her from the previous night? “Where’s the man? The one who saved me?”

The surrounding men gave another a questioning look, looking quite confused when they eyed the area around them. “Miss, nobody is here besides us? You must have swallowed too much seawater – it’s a miracle you survived.”

The black hairy creature spotted Hoseok out, yapping towards him and trying to get the humans attention. The animal saw him, no doubt, and Hoseok ducked for cover under the waves as they passed, waiting for his moment to come back up.

The princess was taken back onto the land with the assistance of the furry creature and humans, leaving Hoseok distraught behind the stones of the bay. But he was relieved that she survived, her beauty could live on longer, and he couldn’t wait to share his story about how he saved a human. Immediately, when the princess was finally out of view, he plunged beneath the water to return back to his palace.

“Y/n…” He hummed, repeating the sweet name that rang his ears. “Her name is Y/n.”

“Where did you go last night?” The Mer-King shouted in the dining hall. Hoseok floated in front of his father, eyes trained to the seabed below their fins. The six other brothers hovered off to the side in a stationary line, motionless as they watched the scolding unfold. Each accompanied by their personal pets who too drifted in the silence of the water.

“Answer me, Hoseok!” the King’s voice resembled the same boom of the magical fire show from last night.

“I – I was… I went...”

“Don’t you dare tell me you escaped up to the surface.”

Hoseok fell silent. His words lost in his throat when he made eye contact with his father. The King stood still with the length of his graying hair exceeding past his shoulder blades, a crown sat atop his head made out of coral and angulate wentletrap shells. Spikes of eelgrass flowing from the tips of the multicolored crown. His slimy tail was ombre from a berry red into a sandy brown – dorsal fins displayed wide and drifted just how a beta fish would, flared up just how a beta fish would. His steel gray eyes stared down at Hoseok with intensity, waiting for a response.

Voiceless silence. Hoseok could not speak another word without distressing his father any further. In defeat he hung his head down to the floor, sinking his shoulders.

“You are not to leave the palace.” The King’s voice broke through. “You are not to enter the surface of the water. Do I make myself clear?”

“But Fath –“

“Am I clear!?” He shouted. Voice echoing through the quiet halls of the palace – hand clutching his beloved trident tight.

“Yes, Sir.” Hoseok grimaced. Kiko fleeing into the middle of Hoseok’s back.

The Mer-King departed the dining hall, leaving the seven brothers to themselves. It was when Hoseok looked up seeing the concerning looks crossing each of his brothers, did he feel guilty for his actions.

“What are you doing? You know you shouldn’t meddle around up above. What if someone saw you?!” Namjoon spoke, the cool tone of his voice chilled through the water. The purple scaled man swam closer to Hoseok, the slate of silver shining through his hair and the tip of his fins. His purple pearl shimmered in the arm cuff on his right of his crossed arms, his crab responding in the same gesture. “Hoseok, think of the dangers.”

“I know. But hear me out – I did something so amazing last night!”

“Namjoon’s right, you know this.” Seokjin stepped in with a pointing finger embellished with his pearl, “And to pull that stunt, especially when father is visiting, you’re asking to be yelled at.” His small, very animated manta ray wiggled around Seokjin’s mannerisms, copying the same movements as he did.

Hoseok’s mouth formed a triangle frown. Resentment settling in the pit of his stomach along with a mix of emotions. “Can you just listen to me?”

“Then speak.” Heads turned over to the aloof green merman who seated himself on top of the turquoise sea-glass table. The side of his hair clipped back with a white barbed clam, allowing the rest of his deep brown wavy hair to flow naturally. Under his ear shined the dark pine colored pearl, just how Hoseok’s did. Taehyung’s fingers twirled around his pale jellyfishes’ ruffled tentacles, staring off into the distance in deep thought. “What was amazing?”

Hoseok scanned the eyes around him, taking in a strong breath before telling his otherworldly experience. The merfolk knew of legends, myths and facts about the land above. Artifacts that fallen down into their domains created curiosity but there were fears of the stories about merfolk traveling far too close to the coastline. Humans may be mystical to mer-people, but it was never wise to breach the surface to study them.

“And the lights started falling down after the loud bang! Fire burning and sizzling out in beautiful streams! It was so bright!” He exclaimed with his audience listening in. “But then the storm demolished the ship! It happened so fast!” Hoseok continued his dramatic story with such immense passion, comparing how humans and merfolk celebrated in similar ways.

It infatuated the listening ears, well, some more than others. “And then I saved her from the wreck! I saved her guys! I brought her to the shore and – “

“You what?”

Yoongi, with a tail of vibrant marmalade orange cut his younger brothers train of thought. His narrow coal cut eyes shot angry towards Hoseok. A menacing stare emitting from the shaggy dirty blonde-haired male, questioning his brother’s reckless behavior. “You went on land?!” His pet lionfish flared its fins at the tone of his owner’s voice, grumbling something about idiocy.

“She lived because of me!” Hoseok retorted, leveling up to the stinging tension that was rising quickly.

“You’re troublesome, really.” Yoongi chided. “She would have been fine if you were here in your palace! That storm wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for you!”

“You’re setting a bad example for the younger ones.” Seokjin nodded towards the wafting men who innocently drifted in the background of the conversation.

Hoseok fumbled over his words, mouth gaping open looking for words to fill into it. He knows his brothers aren’t wrong, they were just being cautious. But Hoseok felt like they looked down upon his widened spectrum, his drive to expand the knowledge about the world above. It wasn’t fair with all the limitations merfolk had, and even more restrictions for a Prince.

Hoseok grew quiet and reflective as days passed by. Obeying the tolls and jobs of his prince duties, being kind to other fish folk and leaning a helping hand for many in need. He stabilized his environment, praised the coral reefs that skirted his territory, even assisted with gathering the ripened fruits that sprouted from the gardens’ trees.

Though each and every day Hoseok pondered about the princess who lived above. Questioning to himself about her whereabouts, how she was doing and what she was doing. He dared to stare at the new statue that became his favorite décor in his luxurious field of flowers. A beautiful stone chiseled and sculpted to look like the princess, partially broken from the wreck of the ship, now stood in the middle of his oyster paddock.

When Hoseok wanted to be a daredevil, he succeeded in slipping away from the eyes of his staff and even his personal buddy. Rushing himself back to the surface where he loved so dearly to catch the linger of the air that dried his face and scales. Many times, he rose to the place where he had last seen Princess Y/n, where he left her on the sands before scurrying away. He always returned to his subterranean abode with a bit of sadness when he never saw her.

It was dawn when the first light creeped through the panels of Hoseok’s second study where he was toying around with one of his thingamajigs, trying to understand the use of it. He had an unexpected visitor in the middle of the night, a slither of a reflective shine catching his eye. An oily slick tinted film in the moonlight when he angled his tail in the right way.

“Taehyung.” Hoseok breathed, “You should have told me you were heading here; I would have arranged a genuine greeting for you when you entered the gates.”

He seemed cheerier during the night hours, maybe it was the relaxation of the disphotic zone or the cool temperament of fishes relaxing. Whichever excuse it may be, Taehyung always glowed better during the evening. “I’m sorry hyung – I wanted to check in on you. I was worried.”

They spent the entire night in deep thoughts, conversing to another about their worries and provinces. A few discussions about trades between regions, assembling plans and arrangements for brotherly gatherings. Taehyung found a fascination with a particular utensil from Hoseok’s study, a metal tool that had spikes at one end and a smooth handle on the other.

Throughout the night Hoseok confessed his sorrows to his younger brother, revealing his secret about the princess he had saved. How her beauty enchanted him, imprinting on his mind, how her statue now lays in the greens of his garden. The embarrassment crept up to him, distracting himself from his feelings as he showed Taehyung around his collection of human things.

“If my memory is correct, I believe I might know who your princess may be, because I have seen a castle above the waters.” Taehyung twirls the man-made gizmo around his fingers as he speaks. “When you mentioned her before in your story, I grew curious.”

Hoseok was caught off-guard from Taehyung’s words, stunned even. “Y – You know where she lives? You need to show me!” The aqua tailed man fluttered around with a sense of emergency, he held Taehyung’s hand pleading to him. “Please brother, show me what you know. It’s a wonderful morning already, the current is leveled, and the waters are clear!”

Embracing their arms together, Taehyung and Hoseok swam out past the palace walls into the blue of the ocean. Together they rose out of the water after miles of swimming, just in front of a tall bend in a cliff. They remained far off from the cost, deep enough to be unnoticed from the naked eye. But from their point of view they were able to see a castle with bright yellow stones, a flight of marble steps that led straight into the sea. Statues topped the pillars that outlined the walls, the building crowned with a Caspian blue. A great bay window faced toward the sea, the windows expanding long and wide.

The area was farther out from Hoseok’s natural comfort spot, he would pass this sector many times when he would visit up north to Taehyung’s realm.

From a closer look the two mermen can see silken curtains that hugged the frames of large bay windows, the walls inside decorated from top to bottom with magnificent paintings. Blurred bodies of servants walking across the tiled floors and expensive rugs. Deep within one of the larger rooms there was a fountain glittering with dancing water which sprouted from several areas surrounded by long stems and tendrils of plants.

“It’s so beautiful.” Hoseok whispered, creeping himself closer towards the castle that was built on the edge of the cliff. It was a real delight for the royal mermen to witness an abode so lovely, so riveting.

“This is the only castle I know of. I’m hoping this could be her palace.” Taehyung swam down, toying around with his small jellyfish in a fit of giggles. Dangling strands of seaweed around as if he’s forging the same motion as his buddy’s tentacles.

Hoseok dipped his head under, meeting up with the green tailed strides. “Thank you, Taehyung!” Hoseok’s arms entangled around Taehyung’s waist, spinning the two mermen in circles.

“It’s not far from the area where I saved her. Oh, I do hope this is her home!”

Taehyung beamed back a boxy smile, noticing the wild spirit of Hoseok shine. He was aware of the consequences of going to the surface, aware how enraged father could get when the sons acted up. But he was very happy to help out his brother – he saw something in Hoseok that he didn’t see in the others.

“Please, whatever you may do. Just be safe.” He petted the side of his brother’s hair, flicking his finger over Hoseok’s pearl earring.

#ficswithluv #btsbookclub #bangtanarmynet #armysource #bangtanhq #magicshopnet #crosscurrents #crosscurrents part 1 #hoseok x reader #mermaid AU #mermaid hoseok #bts fanfic #series #jung hoseok #hoseok #jhope #hobi #bts

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curedeity · 3 years

Text

The Dragons Scale

Summary: (metal fury spoilers) Ryuga is dead, shouldn't Yu be sad?

He was going to smash the clock on his wall. Yu didn’t know why Tsubasa had gotten him one of those circle-clock things when digital clocks existed! All it did was tick-tick-tick annoyingly away and keep him awake.

Well, that was a lie, it wasn’t the clock keeping him awake, but maybe if he threw it out the window he’d be able to sleep. All he’d need to do is launch Libra, just a teeny-eenie bit. But no, Tsubasa didn’t like it when Yu broke things around the house, so awake he’d remain, listening to that clock’s counting clicks.

He and Kenchi had called earlier that day for their weekly chat. Or was it yesterday? When the clock passed midnight was it earlier or yesterday? Time was confusing and Yu didn’t like it. It was supposed to make sense because it was linear, but it was too circular to be comprehensible.

Yu also didn’t like the conversation he and Kenchi had. Not that he didn’t like talking to Kenchi, Yu loved talking with all his friends! They were all really annoying though with how rarely they answered, it was really rude that no one ever seemed to have time.

Yu ignored his own tendency to forget phones existed.

Kenchi and him had been laughing over training methods. Tsubasa was such a pain-in-the-ass about having to train the proper and uptight way. He was all about movement and grace and doing perfect launches a hundred times. Yu tended to pour water on his head and then run away giggling as he was chased down by an angry Eagle.

Kenchi had complained about how Hyoma’s training seemed to amount to taking him out into the forest and seeing what happened. Yu got the feeling that if he and Kenchi switched mentors, they’d both have better times, Yu liked just exploring!

Then Kenchi had started comparing it to Ryuga’s training method, and Yu had ended the call shortly thereafter.

Ryuga…

The name still sent shivers up his spine, very annoying because Ryuga was dead-in-a-ditch and there was nothing to be scared of, except maybe the concept of death but that wasn’t very creepy, just kinda boring. And shouldn’t Yu be sad, like everyone else was when Ryuga was mentioned?

With a sigh, Yu pushed himself out of bed and softened the squeak of his socks against the wooden surface as he tippy-toed out of his room. Of course, Yu wasn’t supposed to leave the house in the middle of the night, but Tsubasa wasn’t the boss of him, and they’d agreed that leaving a note worked well enough.

So Yu scratched some meaningless words against a post-it note, and wandered out of the house.

It was a nice night outside, Yu supposed. If he looked up he could probably spend the rest of the night-morning connecting constellations, and falling asleep outside sounded like a nice idea.

But his skin was still crawling, and his brain was too full of thoughts of Ryuga leaving and Ryuga hurting them and then Ryuga dying to really care about some stupid tiny stars right now.

Yu brought out his phone and dialed it the number of the one person who seemed still more fearful of Ryuga than himself: Hippity-Hop.

She arrived at the house half an hour later, wearing sweats instead of the fancy outfit she had while working. That was nice, because when she wasn’t wearing her fancy clothes she was much more willing to play with him. He hadn’t brought out anything to play with though, except Libra, and Hippity-Hop didn’t seem to be in the mood to battle. She rarely was.

Yu skipped ahead, stopping every block to let her catch up. Because she was slow there wasn’t really much time to talk, unless they wanted to be calling out to each other, so Yu let the chirping crickets crackle through the air.

The burger place they arrived at was completely empty, floors shining from a recent cleaning and tired employee glaring. They got their soda-pop and food and sat down at a booth, far away from the only pair of prying ears.

Yu liked the sugary-sweet rush of soda-pop. Tsubasa didn’t let him have a lot because water was better for their health or something, so Yu had to go out to get his own most of the time. At least he had his own money he could spend on whatever he wanted, instead of having to ask Tsubasa like he’d had to ask Doji-

He slurped on the liquid sugar drink he’d gotten, coughing at the fizz.

“So, Ryuga,” Hippity-Hop began, swirling her straw in her drink. It wasn’t as interesting as doing it with coffee. When she drew stuff in coffee, the swirls would remain for a while, and Yu loved watching that. Soda-pop was much more boring in that singular way.

Yu hummed, swinging his legs back-and-forth, back-and-forth. “So, Ryuga,” he echoed.

Hippity-Hop sipped her drink, a long pause stretching out between them, before she lightly slammed the soda-pop back down on the table. “He’s a bitch.”

Yu cackled, laughing as he fell over in the booth. Sure, her voice had trembled when she’d brought up his name, and he’d seen the breath she’d needed to take. But it was a relief to hear someone just say that.

And it was a tragedy, because Yu didn’t know which way to feel about him.

“He’s a bitch who didn’t deserve to die because he was just a used kid, but a bitch is a bitch nonetheless,” Hippity-Hop nodded sagely. It wasn’t often she swore around Yu, having prescribed to Madoka’s ideals that Yu was too young to know the fuck words, but this was the singular subject he could always draw profanity out of her with.

“The others don’t really talk about him to you, do they?” Yu asked, poking his straw at her.

“Not really,” Hippity-Hop shrugged, fully aware of the reasons why. They both were, he’d called her for this conversation after all. “Sometimes Kyoya, Tsubasa and I gather up and discuss him, but then I kinda end up wanting to punch them sometimes.”

“I want to punch Kenchi when he brings up Ryuga sometimes, which isn’t really fair because he’s really sad when he brings it up and I don’t want to make Kenchi sadder,” Yu nodded in understanding, bobbing his head up and down very grown-up like.

“Truly, the struggles of all of us having valid viewpoints and trauma of the man,” Hippity-Hop slurped her soda-pop.

“I just don’t want him to talk about Ryuga to me sometimes!” Yu threw his hands up in the air. “He and everyone else are always so sad when they talk about Ryuga, and then I have to be sad when I don’t feel sad sometimes, just angry!”

Hippity-Hop hummed. “Maybe you ought to tell them.” It was her turn to point the straw at Yu.

Yu pouted at her, “But they are really sad and I’m supposed to be there for Kenchi, right-”

Hippity-Hop cut him off. “Nope, no. Yu, you’re like 5-” Yu squealed at that, ready to tackle her for that comment. “-you have no obligation to be able to deal with anyone’s feelings. Especially because of your own experience with Ryuga. The reason no one talks about him with me like that is because they all know I can’t handle it sometimes, because, for better or for worse,” Hikaru’s face twisted into something indescribable, conflicted. “My trauma over Ryuga’s actions was incredibly fucking obvious to absolutely everyone. What most likely happened is that everyone forgot how complicated your feelings about him were. You just gotta remind them.”

Yu took the first bite of his burger. It had pickles in it. He picked them out slowly. He didn’t look at Hippity-Hop.

“I want to be sad,” he whispered, and was this ok? Was this okay to tell her? He shouldn’t be discussing this in the first place with her, even though she was the most understanding maybe what he wanted is what he should offer her-

“Yeah, I want to be sad too,” Hippity-Hop sighed, and dug into her own burger.

In the morning, Yu would talk to Tsubasa and try to figure out why he was still so scared and sad and angry at Ryuga. Tomorrow, he would call Kenchi and explain that he couldn’t talk about Ryuga, not yet. Tomorrow, Tsubasa and Mr. Phoenix would once again put a list of therapists in front of Yu.

Tonight, he and Hikaru ate terrible burgers and insulted a man neither wanted to be dead. Sibling bonding.

#beyblade #beyblade metal fight #beyblade metal fusion #fanfic #fanfiction #the dragons scale #yu tendo #hikaru kasama #referenced character death #swearing #yus pov

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enkelimagnus · 3 years

Text

Words We Stole from the Night

A Caleb/Astrid story, a roleplaying thread between @brunetta6 and I

4849 words, Rated M, Warnings for Abuse, Murder Plotting and everything that comes with Trent Ikithon and the Volstrucker.

Read on AO3

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

The house across from Claykeep Prison was as decrepit as ever.

The paint of the door was even more chipped than she remembered. Signs of the time that had passed were scarred deep into the walls, into the roof, into everything Astrid saw. Vigil’s Circle was always bustling and passing people and the passing war had clawed and burned its marks into the sanctuary.

She hadn’t been there in a while. The last time had been when she’d first heard the Mighty Nein were in Rexxentrum. She’d stood on the roof where she’d spent so many hours and nights staring at the prison, and she’d waited. He hadn’t come. She really hadn’t expected him to, but she’d waited, just in case.

It felt ridiculous now, watching the sun come up on the major places of law and judgement of the Empire, now that she knew what it was like to be executioner for a corrupted judge and no jury. It felt ridiculous to stare at it the way she had in secret as a child.

And now she was back. She climbed up the side of the house, feet finding where she’d scaled many times before. She was steadier than before. Shakier too. But differently, she guessed.

She sat on the edge of the roof and waited. The night was dark, but Rexxentrum was alight. No one would see her here. No one who didn’t know what to look for.

Then, a soft, accented voice called out — just barely loud enough for Astrid to hear.

“It’s hard to forget this place,” Caleb murmured.

Astrid turned instinctually to see a familiar face. His deep-set eyes were obscured with shadow, that light of brilliance and hunger the only thing that survived the dark. His red hair was loose and dirty, falling around his shoulders, and a dark cloak wrapped around his shoulders. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. If some unwitting peasant had seen him, they might have mistaken him as some kind of spirit.

It was, as always, hard to see him.

Astrid always forgot that over a decade had passed. Her mind kept bringing up the image of the Bren she'd known. And then, their paths crossed for a moment, and she saw him, and she remembered that he wasn't Bren, that he was Caleb, that they were 30, that they were broken, that there was a wall the size of a mountain between them and that it was unscalable.

"You're here," she said softly. "You really are?" She hadn't wanted for it to come out as a question, but it was, and she was so tired. So she didn't hide it.

“I was about to ask you the same question...” Caleb whispered hoarsely.

Astrid huffed lightly, humorless.

He watched her for a long moment. For anything. A twitch of movement. Something to show him she was real.

Caleb bowed his head, swallowed thickly, and turned his eyes back to the prison.

There was a lot to say. Years apart, and then the last few months and what it had brought. Him back to her. And... her plans changing, shoved out of their course by eyes too blue and too familiar and too haunting. She reached up to her neck. The burns had long past healed. It had been over 15 years.

"I'm here," she nodded. She looked up at him briefly, before turning back to the view of the prison. "I've seen the inside of it many times now. Claykeep." She pointed out. "It's nothing like we used to wonder.”

“I suppose you will be visiting me there soon,” Caleb murmured, his voice rough and wasted. “At some point.”

Astrid raised an eyebrow, looking up at him again. "Are you planning to give yourself in?" She asked quietly.

“No,” Caleb murmured. “But I am not foolish enough to believe I can run from him forever. Or from you... Not anymore.”

Astrid shook her head. "Prison is never going to be for you. Not this one anyway." She didn't hide the bitterness in her voice.

“No. No, it will not...” Caleb whispered, eyes locked on the distant building. “But it would make a brilliant torch, would it not? Standing against the sky this way, as it does...”

Astrid closed her eyes for a second. "Burn it all to the ground. It's already covered in ash anyway." She exhaled. "Why are you in Rexxentrum, Br... Caleb?"

She was happy to see him. Happier than she'd been in for so long. It was almost overwhelming. She didn’t know how to express it exactly.

“We did what we needed to do in the wastes of Eiselcross,” Caleb explained. “The others are safe. I told them I needed a break... so we agreed. Split up. Meet again.”

Astrid nodded at that. "And you came here, of all places." She pointed out. "On this roof, at this time."

Had he hoped she would be there? Or did he just want to reminisce about the past and stare at the future, or some iteration of it?

"I'm glad they're safe."

“Are you?”

"You love them," Astrid shrugged. "They love you." She didn't want him to be alone. He had a family now. She didn't want them to leave him.

Caleb took an unsteady breath, eyes wavering, his own sore heart threatening to crack. Do you? he wanted to ask. But he couldn’t ask. He wasn’t sure if he could survive the answer, one way or another.

They sat and stood there for a long time, watching the lines of the prison stand resolutely.

Finally, Caleb broke the silence. “I’ve been thinking,” he murmured quietly. “About if I were in your position, and you in mine.”

It was hard to imagine being in Caleb's position. Being free. Having a family. Loving people. Astrid would rather not try to think of it. It was too hard. Too difficult. It made something hard and suffocating wrap around her chest.

"And what did that thinking lead to?"

“It made me hope a little more... that I might convince you to come with me. To leave your dark purpose behind.”

Astrid looked up at him with wide eyes. "My dark purpose?" She watched him, a little bewildered. "What do you think that is, exactly?"

“A self-inflicted destiny,” Caleb whispered, still not looking at her. Those eyes were burning, smoldering with redirected hate towards the distant Candles. “A desire for power that you were born with, but caged by him . Told that you’re only good for one thing. Supplanting him feels like the only answer, but it’s not, Astrid.”

"Then what else is there?" Astrid snapped, sudden anger rising inside of her. He thought he understood but he didn't. He'd escaped. "Someone has to do it. Someone has to supplant him. I'm perfect for it. I'm the only one who can do it properly."

“He will never choose you, Astrid.”

"You're foolish if you think I'm giving him a choice." She snarled back.

Caleb finally looked at her, but the hatred was gone. His shoulders were heavy with sheer exhaustion. “And what will you ‘do properly?’” he asked hollowly. “What will change?”

Astrid hummed. "I've never been good enough for him. He doesn't consider me even capable of having thoughts for myself, let alone anything more complex than that." She muttered. "I've spent the last.... fifteen years with weekly reminders that I was nothing compared to what you were. The longer it went on, the clearer it became that he didn't see me... And he gave me to the Academy, and to the recruits and to.... When he's dead, I will protect these fucking kids."

“You’re better than me in many ways, Astrid.”

"I'm not," Astrid shook her head. "I'm not. But... Two years ago, there was this kid... Brand new recruit. Wide-eyed, fresh out of the middle of fucking nowhere... And I'd been... asking the questions. You know the ones. Where are you from, do you have family. Will anyone fucking miss you if you disappear." She swallowed. "And there... this girl. Red haired, brown eyed, full of freckles. With eyes like she wanted to gulp down everything she could. Like you. I asked her the questions. And she said..." Astrid closed her eyes. "Blumenthal."

Caleb closed his eyes too. Bowed his head, as if praying at a funeral.

“...And what happened to her?”

Astrid looked down at the ground for a moment, letting vertigo take her.

"The report in her Academy file says she's unsuited for the specialized study courses."

“What. Happened.”

"I lied on the report." Astrid whispered, knowing the admission could be her end. "She's safe."

“Good,” Caleb hissed. Burning blue eyes locked on her. “That is step one. But what happens now?”

"For her?" Astrid hummed. "She's studying. She's brilliant, but she's made friends now. She's integrated. She's out of his reach." She explained. "I'm keeping an eye on her, but I can't... I can't be close. Ever."

“And nothing has changed,” Caleb whispered, softer now. “You lied for one girl. But you cannot do that forever. He will expect things of you. If you take his seat, they will expect things of you, Astrid. The pressure will not vanish when you become an Archmage. They kept him on for a reason. They will expect an elite force to keep the peace. How will you satiate that need when he is gone? You cannot take volunteers— there is no protection. No safety. Only illusion. You have to see that, don’t you...?”

"And what then? I will not do nothing. If I can save one, it's already that. Two. Maybe more if I'm smart enough, if I'm strong enough, if I stay the pathetic, not good enough girl he thinks I am," Astrid shrugged. "I can't lie for them all, and I can't undo a lot, and I know they will desire results but I'd rather be fighting them for the rest of my life, no matter how short, than do nothing. I'm tired of that."

She sighed deeply. "She's 17 now," she explained. "But then... when she started, she was only 15. And she was from Blumenthal. And I almost, almost asked her what our names meant now. What had happened to the names Beck, Ermendrud and Grieve."

“But you did not want to know. Did you.”

"It doesn't matter," Astrid shook her head. "Beck will die with me. Ermendrud is already dead... Grieve is agonizing." She shrugged. "And I didn't want to hear about how tragic it was. How sad everyone was. How they remembered them and their kids fondly. And they hoped we were doing okay in Rexxentrum, being mages and all. And I didn't want her to know what I was."

“I am surprised that there are still children from Blumenthal willing to come to the capital after us...” Caleb took a hollow, shallow breath. “But then again... knowing us, perhaps I should not be. There will always be hunger in humanity. A fascination with the arcane...”

The middle-aged man — that was what he was now — rested his back against the chimney stack.

“I was thinking of finally going to find out for myself. I could not do it with my friends, but... maybe alone.”

"As far as I know... Trent made sure that there was no enemy for us out there. No one who could remember our faces. As far as I know, they think we all died too, perhaps even in the fire." Astrid reached for her neck again. "You can go. Find out. But... whatever you find, I don't want to know." She felt so heavy now. So empty, at the same time, like a gaping hole in her chest that was swallowing everything down and taking her with it. "I have work to do here. Solutions to find. People to kill."

“Come with me,” Caleb pleaded softly.

Astrid turned to look at him for a moment, sad and tender. "Why?"

“Because I want you to...?” he whispered, gazing at her with all the weight and bittersweet love in the world. “I know that— I’m sure that my desire means little to you after all this time, but...”

He licked his dry, cracked lips and sighed, closing his eyes.

“I have never believed in fate,” he confessed weakly. “But this is such a coincidence... I feel that I must try. Perhaps you are— perhaps we are standing on a precipice and don’t even know it. I don’t want to step off alone. Not again. Perhaps it is selfish, I don’t know, but I never professed to be an unselfish being...”

Astrid picked up her feet and stood, walking towards him.

"Caleb..." She whispered.

She wanted to be selfish. She wanted to be selfish and say yes and leave and forget the world and fuck the consequences, for her or for others. She wanted to run to the ends of the world and wait for Trent there, content and happy and warm for once.

"I want to be selfish. But I have already been, for so long..." She leaned against the chimney next to him, watching him. "I want to be loved, and I want to be free. But I'm pretty sure... When we dropped you off at the sanatorium, I knew then and there, when the door was closing on you and he was holding my arm.... I cannot be loved and I cannot be free, and I would... I deserve to die trying to right it all, or else I will have accomplished nothing worthwhile. Magic and power and knowledge, what are those worth to me when I stand there alone and broken and missing people I can never have?"

A hard lump rose in Caleb’s throat. He took an unsteady, shaky breath.

“Come with me...” he pleaded with her. “Be selfish, Astrid. I may be a worthless bastard, but... I will do all I can for you. I will right the wrongs that I can. I will profess to you truth . I am so... sick of lying to you, walking on eggshells around you. We spent our youth together. We... We gave ourselves to one another... Physically and... in all the ways that matter. I know that it’s not going to be the same, not at first, but— if you are willing to try, so am I...!”

It would be so easy to kill him right now. He was standing there so close, so vulnerable, and he wouldn't even fight back, wouldn't he? She could just... do it, and throw his body away and walk home and wait until Trent's rage took physical form and he realized what she'd done and he came for her and killed her too, and then she'd go to where worthless things like her go.

Astrid reached up to touch his face. "You should see all the kids, Caleb," she whispered. "You would love them as much as I do." She nodded. There was stubble under her thumb. "Gods... You've only gotten more beautiful with time..." She was more shy than ever under his gaze. "What will your family say?"

That startled a cough of amusement out of Caleb. “They will be suspicious of you, for good reason,” he admitted quietly. “You will likely go through a few talks with them. There will be distrust at first... but all trust requires risk. And you’re worth the fucking risk...”

Astrid took a deep breath. "I... I want it," she muttered. "I want that. The... risks and all, I just..." She turned away, looking back to the Candles, back to the high walls of the Academy. "What about them? When I'm gone, who do they have left?" She asked quietly. "If I could take them all with me... I would."

“There will be other teachers,” Caleb whispered. “Take a sabbatical. Take some time overseas... do research in Marquet. Go north. Guide your own expedition to Eiselcross. I have artifacts that you can bring back, as a cover. You don’t have to go forever... I just... Let me steal you away. Just for a time...”

Astrid bit her lip. It could work. For a time, she could... forget. She could be free for a moment. She would get stronger, she would think through plans. She would find out as much as she could about everything she needed...

"I have... I have an idea." She muttered. "You will have to trust me. Blindly."

Caleb’s brows furrowed. He opened his mouth uncertainly... then sighed heavily, eyes narrowed.

It’s worth the risk. The worst that could happen is that I die. And that’s not so bad.

She’s worth the risk. This is worth the risk. On my own, this is worth the risk.

“...All right...”

Astrid looked at him. "I need to tell him I'm leaving with you," she muttered. "He needs to think... that I am doing my work correctly.”

Caleb took a deep breath... and let it go.

“What will he think we are doing?” he asked softly.

"That... that's not important," Astrid shrugged. "He needs to know I'm with you, and with your friends. And I... will feed regular information." She explained.

“You won’t be with my friends,” Caleb murmured. “Just me. I’m not... willing to share you just yet...”

"If I am to stay with you, it needs to be useful for him," Astrid explained. "He won't let me go to Marquet or Eiselcross just because I want to. I'm a teacher, yes, but I am a Volstrucker. I am his. He needs to think he's gaining something by letting me out of his sphere of influence. He knows about our history, so it will be... it will make sense for me to seduce my way back into your life for him."

“Then it is better for me to be alone, no?” Caleb murmured, searching her eyes. “My friends would keep me on a short leash. But if I am alone...”

His gaze flickered subconsciously down to her lips and quickly away. “If I am alone, it is easier for you to pull me off track.”

Astrid nodded. "Yes, yes. But I will need to bring something from them too. They are a big point of interest for him." She smiled a little. "I need you to trust me. I will give him the kind of things he wants to hear. Things that are hard to disprove. Things that are close to the truth. I need you... to be open with me. And I will be open with you, in exchange." She looked at him for a moment. "And it won't be hard to be close to you, anyway. You always had such a magnetic effect on me. It has only... heightened with time."

Caleb coughed softly in amusement, shaking his head. “No need to stroke my ego. Really...” he murmured, rubbing his face. “I know I am not much to look at. My face is too long. My features are too cruel. I am... wrinkled. Gott , to return to a time when we never thought we would have bags under our eyes and lines around our mouths, hm...?”

"Look at me. All scarred and marked and... used," Astrid had a small laugh. "We were so arrogant and confident in our own bodies," she chuckled. "Thought time would never get to us." She reached to run her fingers over his face, over his features. "You're still beautiful to me. Still magnetic. It's not about your face, it's about... everything else." She muttered.

Caleb couldn’t help but close his eyes, leaning into her palm. It felt like dangling over a precipice of immense size... but while he was alone, it was worth the risk to feel her touch again.

“I have... um... something...” Caleb whispered. “For you. If you want it.”

Astrid watched him for a moment, taking time now that his eyes were closed and she could let herself drink in everything he was now. Caleb Widogast. She liked the name. A lot.

"What is it?" She asked softly.

“It is not physical...” Caleb told her quietly. “And... it might not be wise to give it to you right now, if you do want it at all. But...”

He took a breath and opened his eyes, but his lashes were still lowered. He gazed down at the curve of her arm. The dark fabric of her cloak.

“I can take your years away,” he whispered. “At least thirteen of them. It won’t extend your life, but... if you wish.”

Astrid looked up at him for a moment. "I..."

It was one hell of a thing. 13 years less. The weight of everything that had happened in the last thirteen years. Missions and pains and murders and two marriages, neither good in any way. 13 years of Trent. 13 years of nightmares.

"I'm okay," she whispered. "I don't need it." She muttered. "Not now. It wouldn't make much of a difference..."

Caleb nodded silently. “I wanted to offer,” he murmured. “I’ll— I’ll be here. When you’re ready to go.”

Astrid looked at him. "Thank you. I..." She looked over at the Candles. "Give me... a week. Maybe two. Get my affairs in orders at the Academy. Take care of everything. Tell Trent." She nodded. "You can stay at my house, if you want. It's... unscryable." She muttered. "Safe."

Caleb rubbed softly at his temples. “...Alright. I will,” he mumbled. “What about your servant? The halfling man?”

Astrid shrugged. "He'll be quiet." She said simply. "He's been with me since I got the house." That said enough, hopefully. Caleb knew what she did.

None of her staff would dare to talk about what happened inside of her house. Not if they wanted to live another day. And they were very aware of it.

Caleb closed his eyes and nodded. “I need a shower...” he mumbled unhappily.

"You do," Astrid chuckled. He looked dirty, probably from trying to make himself invisible. "There's also probably some clothing that you could wear." She muttered. "And we'll have a nice meal."

Caleb nodded again, his mind shutting down in preparation for the next week. Blind trust did not come easy, especially not to him. Certainly not in the shadow of Trent Ikithon’s tower...

Worth the risk. Worth the risk.

“...I will come in the afternoon, while you are away,” Caleb told her softly. “Will you— Will you tell Wulf?”

"Do you want me to tell Wulf?" Astrid tilted her head to the side for a moment. "I... I don't know where his loyalties lie. I haven't for a while. He's... different."

“Different...?”

"He's devoted," Astrid explained. "And not only in his worship, which he found relatively recently but... He's not like me. I've always been a bit... shadier. More gritted teeth and tight-lipped smiles. I don't know if he's an amazing actor or if he really worships Trent as much as his goddess."

She didn’t know where Wulf stood anymore, and it was the worst part of her life.

“I would hope not...” Caleb whispered. “I wish I could talk to him without barriers.”

Astrid could understand why. But she didn’t know if it was possible anymore. "Wulf... He's in the field a lot. Never spends long in Rexxentrum. I'm pretty sure he doesn't even have his own place." She explained. "He's been... very useful as a ranged weapon for Trent."

Caleb’s eyes darkened. He looked at her sternly. “Useful,” he repeated. “Astrid, he can’t feel right about this... Can he...?”

Astrid looked down. "I don't know," she admitted. "I don't know. He's..."

She crossed her arms, trying to shut out the impossible guilt and shame she felt at what had happened to her best and only friend.

"15 years since you left us,” she started, both an explanation and a bit of a criticism. “And it hasn't stopped for us. Especially not for him. I'm lucky, I don't... do as much of the dirty work. Or at least my work is different. more poison, less dagger." She muttered. "I don't know. I just know I can't trust him."

Caleb sighed heavily, running his fingers through his hair. He hated it. Hated that he had abandoned them to this fate. Abandoned Astrid. Abandoned Wulf.

But he was back now.

Caleb exhaled shakily. “If there is hope for Wulf,” he murmured steadily, gazing emptily through the skyline of Rexxentrum, “it will be in the future. When... we can talk, and protect him, without risk of Herr Ikithon finding out. I despise this... but we must leave him be for now.”

Astrid didn't want to tell him she'd given up on helping Wulf a long time ago.

He stayed at her house when he was in town, in the guest room that was just his room now. And they crossed each other, and sometimes, she saw in his eyes her best friend, but that was so rare she'd stopped hoping. Most of her time she let him be quiet and go through the motions and didn’t even try to rage against his coldness anymore. She wasn’t sure he cared enough not to report her to Trent if she disobeyed to help him.

Not that she'd been in a much better state until the girl from Blumenthal. That had woken her up, but before that... she was as much of a zombie as he'd been. Empty. Deadly.

"The Matron will keep him," she whispered. More of a desperate hope than anything else.

The gods have never helped us. Why should they now? That was what Caleb wanted to say. What his deeply bitter and angry soul wanted to snarl into the shadows. But he couldn’t say that, not when such sadness and quiet desperation permeated Astrid’s voice.

He rubbed at his eyes, brows furrowed. “I am sure she will...”

The anguish at what had become of Eadwulf threatened to overtake her for a moment. Astrid gently reached an arm around Caleb to pull him closer to her. Hold me. Remind me you're real. She wouldn't say it though. She needed his comfort. She needed to be close, now that she’d let herself say yes to an impossible plan to taste freedom.

"If you have questions over the past years, I can answer them," Astrid muttered. She had never told anyone anything. Even Wulf. She couldn't add to his weight. Maybe Caleb could help. Maybe he would let her tell him all the things that haunted her at night.

Caleb hesitated... but he wrapped his arms around her; after a moment of hesitation, he pulled her into his lap and held her there.

“...You’ve always been small...” he whispered, burying his face in her shoulder.

Astrid hummed and snuggled into him, closing her eyes for a moment. "You're taller than I remember," she pointed out. "Stronger."

“I am still a very skinny man.”

Astrid nodded. "Hmm. Can feel that," she muttered. "Still a very skinny woman." Everything was... so nice for a moment. "Still. You're different." His hair was much longer, he had a light beard and he was taller and stronger, somehow, than he was in her memories. Maybe it wasn’t physical strength as much as it was the steadiness of his mind.

“So are you...” Caleb hesitated... then he rested his hand against the side of her throat. Feeling the warped, smooth, rippling sensation of those old, faded burn scars.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “So sorry...”

Astrid closed her eyes a little harder. "You weren't in your right mind," she muttered. "It's okay. it's fine." She repeated. "it's been a really long time." 15 fucking years and counting. The burn was long healed. The memory of it was not as fuzzy as it should have been, however. She wished she could forget the state he’d been in, his despair and his anger. She wished she could forget the pain.

“...I should go.” Before I do something stupid.

Caleb took a breath, stroking her hair and forcing himself to let her go. “I will see you tonight, Astrid...”

Astrid didn't want this to end. She wanted to stay there for the rest of her life, on this roof, in this night, with Caleb.

"Don't change your mind about me," she whispered. "Promise me you'll come." She didn’t know if she would be able to take a defection like this one.

Caleb’s heart ached at her whisper. He swallowed thickly, and finally met her eyes. He cupped her cheek — his face crumpled with conflicting desire — and rested his forehead to hers.

“Ich verspreche dir, dass ich kommen werde.” I promise you that I will come.

Astrid exhaled. "Danke." She whispered.

She wasn't alone anymore. She dared to hope for this to last for a while, so she could soak it up like a sponge.

“Gern geschehen, Schatz...” You’re welcome, sweetheart...

Caleb faltered, wondering if he had gone too far... then huffed and gently forced himself away. He hurried down the stairs, out of sight.

Astrid watched him go, swallowing.

"Ich liebe dich", she whispered to the night, once he was out of sight.

Forbidden words. Almost forgotten words. Words she was afraid of.

#caleb widogast #astrid beck #caleb/astrid #critical role #mighty nein

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gonelike-achoo · 4 years

Text

Crowned Prince || 1

prince!hendery x princess!oc

𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

genre: angst, fluff, political (but it isn’t focused around that)

warning: none (at the moment)

word count: 1.9k

summary: Like every other tale, this prince was to rule the land and be married off to a princess whose caliber is just as high as his. His life envied by everyone, from the princes of various nations or the common folk. The crowned prince of Hwei, but not the eldest son. The king next in throne, yet none of his followers believe he is fitting of the role. Married off to the most desired bachelorette, yet he’s considered the most undesirable.

Undesirable, non-kingly, and a disappointment, how will the prince address these concerns?

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1: Gathering of the Lands

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For several generations, from stories his court ladies told him growing up, there was no other nation like the great nations. The five most politically, socially, financially, and diplomatically powerful nations were addressed as the great nations and for centuries the five names have not changed at all. Those from lesser kingdoms, nations, and towns all wanted to be like them, their political intelligence and unquestionable powers are what other nations called ideal. As the young prince has been told of these amazing stories, there was nothing he hoped more than to be a ruler of one of them— a dream that sat at the palms of his hand.

In honor of celebrating peace and elegance, the lands gathered together once a year, in what they called the gathering of the Lands. Its original intention was to celebrate peace after finishing the great war that happened generations ago, where no royal could even remember what a war would look like on a scale that spanned the whole world. Although it intended to celebrate peace, the events, now, are nothing more than a celebration of wealth, a way for the great lands to rub into the faces of lesser, smaller kingdoms that they could never be in their positions.

The once young prince stands tall at the side of the banquet hall decorated in lavish furniture and fine pieces of silverware and plates on various tables that were set in front of him. As other royalties converse into smaller groups, he stood there at the side watching and observing the same repetitive pattern he’s seen since he was old enough to realize. The groups were always in the same pattern of people; at the center was a royal from the great land, but they’re royals too far from the throne, then there would be small kingdom royalties standing right next to the great land, while the smaller nations and towns formed circles around these proud individuals.

In this same old repetitive cycle, there were always those royalties who had huge groups gathering around them. On one end of the hall was someone who stood in the same clothing as he was in. The blue cape over his shoulder kept on his clothes through tasseled pins and a stash over his chest with a blue and gold sword on his waist— the difference was the huge crowd around the other prince of Hwei and the absence of one with himself. The name of the charismatic prince of Hwei was Xuxi, Prince Xuxi of Hwei, the charmer.

The gold and blue stuck out like a sore thumb to him, everyone who glances his way knew from which great nation he was from. Hwei was a wealthy nation that stood as an important trading area for several nations, towns, kingdoms, and especially lands. Hwei sat by a port, being able to easily travel to several areas and by land, it stood close to two huge importers of raw materials and products, Sui and Maha’ali, both are great lands. It was almost impossible for other smaller nations to turn their head towards the young prince, but no one dared to approach him.

On the other end of the hall was a crowd a bit bigger than one that Xuxi had. It was only natural for this person’s circle to be bigger, this year’s gathering was hosted by their land. Among the people around her, she stood out even more than the blue and gold the prince at the corner was wearing. Her whole dress was in a bright shade of red, bigger and bolder than of anyone else’s dress in the room. The ball gown was probably big enough to hide a few items under it and her cape long enough for people to trace her steps from one of the banquet to the other, or that’s what this prince had in his mind. However, the princess was more than the beauty of her dress or the host of this year’s gathering of the lands, she had this captivating aura that drew people into her circle, almost as if she’s a magnet. For several years, Hendery has attended the gathering, he’s heard that her name was Taeha, Princess Taeha of Sui. Sui, as in, this year’s host of the gathering of lands, the land that was said to have been founded upon the mystical creature known as a phoenix.

As the hall echoes in soft murmurs, the orchestra begins playing a soft tune, at first mixed in with the voice of the people, but as more people began to notice the murmurs soften until it was no longer present. The only thing that can be heard now was the instrumentals playing in the background. All attention turned towards the center of the banquet.

“We would like to call to the center of the floor,” the king of Sui stands up from his seat at the podium with a proud smile on his face.

Hendery has seen this before, the kings rarely spoke when the music begins playing, and when they did it was only to announce something he feared the most. The last he’s seen this was when a princess of Feliz, another great land, was called unto the center who was then followed by the crowned prince of Sui. After they were asked to dance, the two kings announced a union between them, both of which were shocked to hear about it because a marriage between the great lands was only seen every once in a while, it was a rare arrangement.

“My daughter, Princess Moon Taeha!” Hendery turns his head towards the woman in her dazzling red dress standing there shocked for a few seconds. All heads were turned towards her as her footsteps echoed with the music as she makes her way towards the center. She, just as Hendery knew, understood why she was called to the middle.

Hendery takes a glance around the room, there were a few candidates that could possibly be her husband, and he knew very well that he was one. He looks around the room and began looking through the endless array of single, unmarried princes from the great lands and there is quite a number. There was his brother, Prince Xuxi, he was a likely candidate, but there was also his younger brother, Prince Renjun, then there were the princes from Feliz, Prince Minhyuk, and Prince Jeno, however, her brother is married to a princess of Feliz. Then there was Farox with its endless amount of eligible bachelors, and the last great land, Maha’ali had none to marry off.

As his mind wonders, King Gui stands up. This man stood in the same blue and gold uniform he was wearing and now more than ever he felt those colors mocking him in the face. The colors were mocking him and screaming at him especially after his father turns his head in search of the man of this woman. He scans the crowd briefly before his father’s eyes landed on him.

“I call in the middle to the dance with the princess, my son,” his father’s eyes never leaving his, “Prince Huang Guanheng, the crowned prince of Hwei.”

Hendery only nods his head, he saw it coming, but why was he still flustered about it. The crowd begins to mutter among themselves and he knew why. To them, Hendery was a faceless prince calling him incapable to even run a nation. He’s heard people say how Lucas was a better fit as the king, he was older than he was, more knowledgeable and was a great military man. He knows about those words about him, but much more than that he knows that most of them muttered in jealousy. Princess Taeha is the most eligible bachelorette, she’s the third in line to the throne, well-read, charmed people and was a beauty, probably the most beautiful woman in the world.

Hendery stands beside the princess and in an instant, he feels as if they were mismatched. Watching her from afar and standing beside her were two completely different experiences. When he stands and watches her from the side, he could take note of everything about her objectively, but beside her, it feels as if all he could do was follow her lead.

Hendery takes a deep breath and offers his hand out, knowing well enough this is what everyone expects of them. Taeha stares at his hand for a while, completely hesitant about this situation, but as he turns her head toward the kings her father begins to stare her down. She had no choice but to take his hand.

For the first time since their names were called, both of them could hear the music once again. The gentle echo of the sounds and soft murmurs of people around them. Hendery reaches his other hand towards her waist, while Taeha places hers on top of his shoulder.

“Isn’t this the first time I’ve come to see your face up close,” Taeha wasn’t very subtle about staring at him with bored eyes as they take steps with the music playing.

“Are you disappointed, princess?” Hendery lifts an eyebrow.

Taeha gets a bit taken aback, she didn’t expect a personality out of this prince. Especially not with what she’s heard about the soft-spoken, shy, and nimble prince, but she refuses to show her shock on her face. “Prince, you’re rather good looking,” she compliments him with a little playful smile.

“So, I’ve heard.”

“And what does that mean?” Hendery leads the princess a few steps backward and it felt for a few moments as if he was going to pin her against the wall.

“You aren’t the first person who told me that," his eyes meet hers in confidence, "I am a prince,” Hendery smirks a bit, probably the first proper expression Taeha has seen on his face. She wasn’t exactly lying when she told him that he was attractive. His face was strong and defined, but at the same time it was soft and delicate, a combination she doesn’t think she’s ever seen around.

“Shouldn’t we try to get along, I mean we are getting married.” Taeha huffs as he leads her into a little twirl, and then turns her around the opposite way to get her dress untangled.

“Who says we’re getting married?”

“Stop playing dumb, you know it, prince.”

“Do I really know it, princess?” Hendery gets the princess into a dip, forcing the princess to look up at his teasing expression. She notices his eyes glistening with mischief and playfulness, he was nowhere near the rumors about him. There was definitely something more to him than what she’s heard.

The music stops and so did their little display. Both sides bow at each other before turning towards the kings bowing towards them. “In a few months, the princess of a Sui and crowned prince of Hwei will tie the knot!” The king of Sui announces loud and clear. The whole ball goes quiet for a few seconds before soft clapping was heard, it was obvious, no one liked their marriage at all.

“The marriage shall take place in Hwei in several months, everyone is invited! The invitations shall be sent as soon as possible!” King Gui stands beside the king of Sui with a huge smile on his face.

“Told you so,” Taeha picks up the front of her dress and turns around to face her group.

“Looks like, I’m stuck with you,” Hendery bows once more towards the princess and walks away.

≫∘❀♡❀∘≪

𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

≫∘❀♡❀∘≪

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