#something more magical than this dreary life filled with working to live and living to work | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tinydooms · 3 years

Note

I want to hear all the details of the haunted Carnahan home in England and how Rick gets involved in all the routines involved in caring and living with the haunted corners of the mansion. Like a weird english version of Island of the Aunts.

The Thing That Lives Behind the Radiator didn't always live behind the radiator. Once, a long time ago, it lived in a seaside mansion in a place that was warm and sunny and that knew how to take care of household spirits. Once, a long time ago, it received offerings of honey cakes and wine and in return it looked after the family. There was always a lot of family, but it liked them: babies who grew into funny toddling things who became weird little kids who grew into interesting young people who eventually brought forth babies of their own to begin the cycle again.

Then, one strange day, a Foreigner came to town. The family that lived in the big house was in a bad way. They needed money to send the Old Mother to hospital for her health, and so they sold many of their books and trappings, including the little cupboard altar in which the little god lived. And so the little god was brought to a cold and dreary place, wrapped in a packing crate lined with straw, and it was desperately unhappy. Its new home was also a mansion, but it was big and cold and dark, and for a long time, the god sulked in its forgotten altar. At least there is a fireplace nearby. But it is never really warm here, and there are no children allowed in the library, and the little god is desperately lonely and sad.

There are other spirits in the house, of course; there always are. There is a White Lady upstairs, not the ghost of a murdered woman but that of a girl who loved ghost stories and spooky things and who is spending her afterlife comfortably haunting her descendants, just because she can (the lunatic). There are other ghosts who are less hospitable towards the living, but the White Lady keeps them away and none of them seem to be interested in the little god in the library. There is also a mummy in the downstairs study, whose ka came to look at its former body's whereabouts, shook its head, and reincarnated as a goat famer in Indonesia. The little god, who now guards nothing and has no one, mostly ignores them all.

One day there is a big family blowup, and that is the first time it really pays attention to the foreigners who stole it away. The eldest son, Alexander, brings home a woman with dark hair and shining eyes and brown skin, and the Family is Not Having It. Unfortunately for them, Alexander does not care and neither does his new wife. And fortunately for the little god in the library, Salwa comes from a land that is hot, and the first thing they do is install radiators all over the house. The other spirits don't like that, but they do not have the same power as the god who lives in the fireplace, and for the first time in a long time, it feels like asserting itself. The radiators are installed in good working order, and the little god moves into the space behind it, just under the window.

Alexander and Salwa aren't at the house much, but when they are, they spend time in the library and the little god grows to love them. The couple love books and each other; they are always reading and learning and laughing and talking. One day they arrive with a baby in tow, a healthy boy, and the little god creeps out from behind the radiator to look at him in his basket. It is only a little god, but it blesses the child: you will live a long and happy life. The baby blinks sleepily up at it and coos.

Five years later, another baby is brought into the library with its parents and brother: a sweet baby girl. The little god blesses her, too, and sits and listens while Salwa reads stories aloud to her children. For the first time in many years, it feels soothed.

The little girl, Evelyn, is always in the library. From a young age little Evie loves books: the look of them, the feel of them, the smell of them, the stories they contain. She comes in, first toddling, then skipping, then with purpose, and sits at the table or before the fire and reads for hours. One day, when she is quite small, she drops a pencil: it rolls under the radiator and hits the little god. Evie drops down onto her belly to look and the two come face to face.

This little girl has curly dark hair and glowing green eyes. She resembles less the foreigners who stole the little god from its home than she does the people it originally loved. For a long moment the two of them stare at each other, and then little Evie smiles and fetches out a biscuit from her pinafore pocket and slides it under the radiator. The little god slides her back the pencil. From that day on, they are friends.

Evie can't actually see the little god, of course, especially the older she gets, but she always knows it is there. And she understands the concept of offerings: whenever she comes into the library, she always leaves a cup of tea and a biscuit or something under the radiator. The little god appreciates this and looks after the books in return. It looks after Jonathan, too, though it never quite has the same relationship with him as it does his sister. Jonathan doesn't always remember to leave offerings, but he greets the little god whenever he comes into the library ("Hello, old thing!") and that's good enough.

When the War comes and Jonathan enlists, the little god creeps out from behind the radiator and blesses its boy as he spends his last night in his bed. You will survive; you will come home. And Jonathan does come home, but he is not the same: he limps about on crutches and can't sleep without screaming. Sometimes he hides in the library for hours, all the lights out, and weeps quietly. The little god does what it can, but the horror is too deep in Jonathan's soul. This is a wound that only time can heal.

And then, one terrible day, news comes that Alexander and Salwa are gone, killed in a terrible accident, and it is both Evie and Jonathan who sit sobbing in the library. The little god sobs too. It had loved the parents as much as it loves the children.

And then Evie and Jonathan go away for a long time. The little god sits behind the library radiator and mourns for its missing family, for the love and laughter that no longer fill the house. It awaits the day when they return. Please let them return.

The White Lady bangs on the pipes, bored that no one is there to appreciate her antics. The ka of the mummy in the study comes back to visit its former body again, scoffs to find it still propped against the wall, and reincarnates again, this time as an Italian opera singer. And the little god waits.

Evie and Jonathan come back one fine spring day, and they bring with them a new person. The little god peeks out from behind the radiator at Evie's new husband as its family take tea. When Evie brings a cup and a crumpet to leave under the radiator ("We're back, old thing! I hope you didn't miss us too terribly."), Rick O'Connell looks surprised, but he doesn't say anything. He is a big man and a kind one, and as the little god grows used to him, it begins to love him as much as it loves Evelyn and Jonathan. Rick has the air of a man well-traveled, one who understands that there are many unexplained things in the world and who doesn't mind the presence of a little god behind the radiator. He even leaves offerings sometimes: peppermints and bits of chocolate and occasionally even a slug of brandy or whiskey. Rick has his own spirit who follows him about: a woman with red-blond hair and a bright Irish face who looks after him in the way the spirits of Alexander and Salwa look after Evie and Jonathan. Will you look after my son? she asks the little god one day, and that night, the little god goes upstairs and blesses the sleeping man. You will live a long life and be happy.

And one day, a baby is born upstairs, as Rick and Jonathan wait in the library. The little god is not fretful the way the men are; it has blessed Evelyn and her child and knows they will be fine. Later, when Rick has met his child and kissed his wife and cried with happiness, the little god is surprised when the big man rolls a cigar under the radiator for it.

"Thanks, pal," he says. "Thanks for looking after us."

The new baby is blond and chubby and the worst handful of a child the little god has seen since his mother, and the little god just adores him. It blesses the boy--you will always be safe--but recognizes that it might have to do more for this one than simply sit behind the radiator. And one evening Alex puts on a magical bracelet, and men from a far away land come to harm the family, and the little god climbs out of its place behind the radiator and into it's boy's pocket and is carried off on an adventure, but that is a story for another day.

#The Mummy #my fanfics #Small Gods #Evelyn Carnahan #Rick O'Connell #Jonathan Carnahan #Alex O'Connell #supernatural shenangians #ghosts #asks and answers #this got a lot longer than I'd thought it would be

110 notes · View notes

random-imagines-blog · 3 years

Text

4 AM {Cedric Diggory x Reader}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 3665 Summary: You’re a transfer student at Hogwarts, and all of these changes are feeling restless. You develop a late-night hobby, but a handsome Hufflepuff catches on.

Everybody needed a bit of time to adjust to new surroundings, like a new school. You took a bit of extra time, considering you were in a new continent, a new culture, a new school and a new house on top of all of it. Transferring from Ilvermorny was a tough thing to do, but you did it at the insistence of your parents, who felt that being at Hogwarts under Albus Dumbledore was far better than your old situation. Much safer, they had put it, despite the Chamber of Secrets and Quirrel and Sirius Black. But hey - safety right? At least there was the opportunity to meet new people, something that you liked doing. And maybe you could pick up a cool British accent while you’re over here. They always sounded so sophisticated, while your American accent was just ... American.

You had been sorted privately into the Slytherin house, which sounded well and good until you reached the common room. It was a bit dreary, you thought. Too much leather on these couches, not enough comfortable fabrics. You became too nervous to sit down in case the seats would squeak and make people think that you had farted. The other Slytherins weren’t the most welcoming, and they didn’t give you a hand as you brought your bags up the staircase to your dormitory. You had to use magic to get them there. The most that you had been given were a couple of side glances. This wasn’t going to be as easy as you had hoped.

On your first night, you had a lot of trouble sleeping. Tossing and turning in the old fashioned four-poster bed. In America, waterbeds were in fashion and you had gotten used to the rolling feeling rather than the roughness of a mattress. It was a good thing that you brought a couple of pepper-up potions to take in the morning just in case this exact thing were to happen.

You had carefully chosen your classes for your sixth year. You planned on doing big things with your life after you had graduated, even if you weren’t sure exactly yet what these things were. You took many of the basics, Potions, DADA, Charms, Transfigurations, etc, but also some things like Care of Magical Creatures and Muggle Studies. You didn’t plan on living among muggles, especially, but you loved the way that they did things. They found inventive ways to work around magic, and you always felt more accomplished when you did things in the muggle way. Especially your secret passion - baking.

A lot of your classes happened to be with the Hufflepuff house, who were a bit wary of you at first, but then became genuinely friendly, and much more welcoming than your own house. Despite the differences, you started to hang out with them more than the Slytherins, which didn’t make dorm life particularly comfortable at times. You still found it hard to sleep in there, and had taken to some night time wandering.

It might be the deviousness of the Slytherin house in you, but you figured out some ways to work around the patrols. If you didn’t leave the castle, you didn’t run the risk of running into Dementors. If you stayed in one place, such as a classroom or the kitchens, you were less likely to get caught by the prefects wandering the halls. You were also able to overhear Cedric Diggory, a handsome boy in your year, tell some fifth year prefects the better ways to go, so you now knew how to avoid them as well.

The kitchens were where you usually ended up going. In Muggle Studies at your old school, you learned a lot about how they baked and they cooked without magic. It wasn’t instant, the way that magic was. You buy a roast, you do a cooking spell, and boom - perfectly cooked beef every time. There were spells to whip the potatoes into the perfect peaks, spells to make icing the perfect consistency for cupcakes, even spells for chopping vegetables if you were feeling lazy. The House Elves in these kitchens didn’t use these spells, they did things more by hand, and it was fascinating to watch. You started coming in on these restless nights as they were making bread for the morning’s toast, and one elf in particular was eager to show you how she did it.

“Then you kneed it like this!” She said in a high-pitched voice, showing you with her bony hands. She moved over so that you could give it a try. The dough was surprisingly warm, and pliable beneath your own fingers. You couldn’t help but smile as the feeling of it filled you with warmth. You could see why muggle bakers woke up as early as four in the morning to do all of this. The smells of the baking loaves wafted over to you and you took a deep breath in, and then a deep breath out. You could spend all day in here, you decided. The only thing that was keeping you from doing so were your classes.

‘Why were you sneaking around last night?’

The note landed on your textbook as you were reading quietly in Transfiguration class. You hid it quickly beneath the book, looking around to try to see who sent it. Your eyes landed on Cedric, who was looking at you equally as closely. You turned away quickly, flushing. You didn’t think that anyone had seen you sneaking away from the kitchens this morning, going back to the dormitory before anyone else woke up. You had been certain that you were careful.

When McGonagall was seated at her desk, you took the note out and wrote back.

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

As you signed the period, the note slipped away from under your quill, fell to the floor, whooshed it’s way to Cedric, seemed to climb up his desk and land on his own textbook. Seemed a little silly, you thought. You could have just handed it to him when the Professor was turned around instead of wasting a spell on it. You thought that the conversation was over and dealt with, when the note came right back to you again.

‘I saw you this morning, near my common room. What have you been up to?’

You scrunched your eyebrows and pursed your lips. There was a murderer on the loose, you knew that, hence the extra security measures but - did anyone really suspect you of having something to do with that? You hadn’t even heard of Sirius Black until you went to Diagon Alley for school supplies!

Rather than write anything back, you underlined the sentence that you had written before. The note didn’t seem happy with that, since it didn’t immediately rush back to Cedric. So you folded up the parchment, waited until an opportune moment, then tossed it over at Cedric. He was apparently not expecting that, because it bounced off his head and onto the floor. There were a few sniggers from other students, which caught McGonagall’s attention. Before she could see the note, Cedric had pressed his shoe over the top of it. She sniffled, then went back to reading, expecting the rest of the class to do the same.

You watched out of the corner of your eye as he slid the note towards himself. When he finally read it, he glared at you, which made you feel uncomfortable. You weren’t ready to give up your baking secret, or even to admit you were breaking the rules for it was forbidden for a student to be out of bed after hours. But still - he couldn’t really suspect you of harboring a killer - could he?

You had taken a break from going to the kitchens at night, as much as it hurt you to do so. Now that you knew that the Hufflepuff Common Room was close to the kitchens, it felt too dangerous to do it. Especially with Cedric Diggory on the watch for you. You’d noticed him looking at you from time to time, during meals or class times. It felt less suspicious than your note passing in class, and more like - studying.

After a week had passed though, you couldn’t wait any longer. The house elf that you had befriended had told you that you could help her make cakes for dessert! Now that was something that you were interested in, since you thought maybe you’ve mastered bread. Waiting until the others in your dorm were sleeping, you slipped on your darkest robe and left the common room, making for some of the lesser-used stairs to get up to the kitchens. You would still have to pass the Hufflepuff portrait, though, there was no avoiding that. You stuck to the shadows as much as you could, and stopped often, looking behind you for a sign of prefects. The coast seemed clear.

You tickled the pear in the portrait, which giggled at being touched, then opened up to reveal the busy kitchens, getting ready for the morning ahead. Your friend, a house elf that barely reached your waist and was named Daisy, waved at you from by the massive fireplace which heated soups and stews for the whole castle. You started heading towards her when a hand wrapped gently around your wrist, keeping you in place. You figured out who it was before you even turned around.

“Cedric Diggory,” You groaned, turning around. His amber colored eyes took in the sight of you, dressed in your pajamas with a dark robe covering your body. You were planning to take it off and put on one of the aprons, but he hadn’t given you the time to do that yet. “Are you stalking me?”

“You don’t get to ask the questions. What are you doing in here?” He asked, looking around the kitchens now as if he had just realized what he had walked into. A house elf whistled happily as it walked by with a big baking pan, three loaves on it nearly tottering off. But he never lost his balance. “Why are we in the kitchens?”

“I know why I’m in the kitchens,” You said, pushing his hand off of your arm. You turned around to head over to Daisy. “As for you, I don’t know. I still think you’re stalking me.”

“A Slytherin who sneaks out after hours isn’t up to any good,” He said. You rolled your eyes at the stereotype - it was getting old already.

“Technically, I’m a Thunderbird, that will be always be my home house,” You explained, still feeling much more American than you were European. “So none of that evil snake business, thank you, badger.”

You walked towards your friend, smiling so as not to show that anything was wrong. House-elves could sometimes worry too much for their own good, and it could affect their work. You did not want Cedric’s following of you to cause an innocent student some food poisoning. You took her offered apron, and switched out your robes for it, folding down the front nicely. The Hufflepuff boy had hesitantly followed. He might not have trusted you, but he had faith in the house-elves that they wouldn’t do anything bad.

“So what are we doing today, Daisy?” You asked happily, approaching her counter. She was a cute little thing, dressed in a bright yellow smock with an apron over top.

“We are making cakes!” She said, clapping with excitement. It had taken you a little while to get used to her high-pitched voice, especially when she sang, which she often did while working. “Vanilla and strawberry because it’s almost Spring!”

She set you to work mixing ingredients while she measured them. You could see Cedric hovering out of the corner of your eye, unsure of what to make of all this. “Oh come on,” You said finally, not being able to take it any longer. The batter that you were working on was enough to make perhaps three cakes, but there would have to be much more than that before the day is through. “You can help with this, you know. Or are you scared of getting a little dirty?”

You put your fingers in flour and flicked some at him. It landed on his pajama shirt. He tried to wipe it off but it just made a white smear, which made you giggle. “I guess I might as well,” He said, finally letting his guard down. Daisy found him another apron, and set him about working on his own bowl of cake mix.

“No, no,” You said, seeing how fast he was mixing. It had even alarmed Daisy, who wouldn’t dare say anything bad about it. You could just gauge by how big her eyes got. “Slowly - you fold in the eggs, you don’t just ... make it go wild like that. We want a fluffier texture. There’s such a thing as over mixing, isn’t there Daisy?”

“That’s right!” She squeaked.

Cedric conceded. He went a little slower this time, taking your direction rather well. You added in the last bits of vanilla to the mix, then helped to measure them into the pans that Daisy had taken away to put into the oven. “What now?” He asked, wiping his hands on his apron.

“We do it again - unless you’re wanting to go and get a bit more sleep,” You shrugged. “Though that means you’re going to miss the best part.”

“And what’s that?” He asked, raising one of his bushy eyebrows. He didn’t have suspicion in his eyes anymore. In fact, you might almost say it looked like he was having fun.

“The decorating! Fresh strawberries, whipped cream, enough icing to send me into a sugar coma. Oh, it’s Heaven. I’ve been waiting for this day for weeks now.” You said, your mouth nearly watering as you thought about all of the treats that you were going to make. “And then, after dinner tonight, we’ll be at our tables and voila! Cakes! And nobody knows we helped to make them which makes it feel sneaky.”

“Knew there would be a catch,” Cedric said, picking up another mixing bowl since the other one had been taken away for cleaning. “I knew you were heading out at night for some reason. I just didn’t expect it to be this.”

“Oh, so just because I’m Slytherin, you think that I was up to no good?” You asked, feeling offended by his assumptions. You picked up a new mixing bowl as well, and a clean spoon.

“Well...” Cedric said, rubbing the back of his neck. You were both in an awkward waiting position until Daisy came back to measure ingredients once more. “How was I to know it would be this?”

“You could have asked rather than accusing me by note,” You shrugged, spinning the spoon around in your hands. You could smell some of the other bakers beginning to prepare the whipped icing that would be going on the cake. It was beginning to make your mouth water. They might as well be working with ambrosia, the food of the gods.

The little house elf did come running with her measuring cups to weight out ingredients and you were finally able to get back to work. Surprisingly, Cedric stayed. He stayed as the cakes were brought out of the oven and put to freeze to make them easier to ice. He stayed as you struggled with a piping bag, and ended up with frosting all over your apron.

“Stop laughing,” You said, as you saw that he was chuckling. He turned away but you could still feel his shoulders move. You glared at him, wiped a glob off your apron and onto your finger, then flicked it right at the back of his neck. That made him stop real quick. He turned back to look at you and you gave him your widest grin. “Oops.”

“No food fights, please!” Daisy wheezed, which put an end to whatever Cedric was thinking about. He wiped it off, onto his apron, then chuckled again.

“Yeah, no food fights,” He repeated to you, as if you were the one getting the scolding. You rolled your eyes, then went back to trying to get the piping bag right. You managed, without exploding it this time, and wasting the precious icing. Still though, you took little dallops of it off your apron and stuck it into your mouth, savoring the flavor.

“Has there ever been a food fight at Hogwarts?” You wondered allowed, stepping back to admire your handiwork. You could imagine one happening in the Great Hall, given how much food was in there on a constant basis. Cedric looked a little surprise that you were asking him in such a pleasant tone rather than the snippiness that you had been passing back and forth.

“A couple of years ago,” Cedric said, smiling as he thought about it. “You know the Weasley twins, from the Gryffindor Quidditch team? They started one in their first year. Now there’s a spell on the tables where it can’t happen anymore.”

“I hope Dumbledore forgets one year. Because now, I gotta start one.” You said, thinking that you had to talk to these twins about how they did it. And maybe a Ravenclaw for counter-spells.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Cedric said, winking at you over his own creation. His was a lot messier than yours, but it would hopefully taste good, that’s what was important. “Strawberries?”

“Strawberries,” You affirmed. A house elf came over with a basket of the fresh fruit, just washed and shiny. You go to work with a knife now, which seemed a little dangerous. As you took it up to cut the leaves off, you looked over at Cedric. He already had the knife in hand and was chopping surprisingly well. He seemed to have some talent other than Quidditch and a winning smile. And - best of all, he seemed to trust that you weren’t going to attack with him the knife. Pretty big deal for a Slytherin.

When the cakes that you were making were finished, you took off the apron and stiffled a yawn. In the time that it had taken you and Cedric to make three a piece, house elves had finished a couple dozen. Yours and his weren’t as picture perfect as the others, but you were happy with your work nonetheless. “Alright, well, g’night...” You said, stretching as you went into the hallway. You could faintly see the sun beginning to rise through the window, the sky no longer black but a lighter shade of navy.

“This was fun,” Cedric admitted, turning to look at you, flour staining the front of his once-perfect robes where the apron didn’t cover. “You do this every night?”

“It’s usually just bread that I make,” You admitted. “The cake was much more fun than that. But bread is really cool, the way that it’s made with just the simplest things. I think I want to become a baker after graduating, but who knows...” You shrugged. The world was still a dark place. But surely that meant that there was going to be more of a need for baked goods to lighten the load and make people feel a little better.

“You’re great at it,” Cedric complimented. Well, that was a nice touch. The Golden boy of Hufflepuff was giving you a compliment, and making you feel a bit of the honeyglow.

“Thanks.” You said. You took a couple of steps down the hallway which would lead you to the stairs down towards the dungeons, but you stopped, turning around. “Are you going to tell on me?”

“No,” Cedric said, after taking a couple of seconds to think. “I might join you again sometime, though.”

“Well that’s fine then,” You said with a smile. “Goodnight, Cedric.”

“Good morning, y/n,” Cedric said, running his fingers through his hair once more, before turning himself to go to his own dormitory. You laughed as you watched him go, then hurried yourself along to get ready for the day.

At dessert the next night, you were surprised to see not one of the picture perfect cakes that the elves had made, but rather one of the haphazard ones that was definitely Cedric’s. You couldn’t help but chuckle as you saw the uneven strawberries and the frosting dripping over the sides. The Slytherin girl next to you commented on how it looked ‘like a child had made it’ and got up to go down the table to one of the nicer looking cakes.

You eagerly took a piece. The cake itself was perfection, it was just the uneven frosting that made it look a little wonky. As you cut into it, you looked over to the Hufflepuff table to catch eyes with the baker himself. He had one of your cakes in front of him, and had loaded two pieces onto his plate. He gave you his heart-melting smile and you returned the sentiment. You stabbed a piece of the cake onto your fork and held it up as if in cheers. He did the same.

It wasn’t the same as eating with him exactly, but it was nice nonetheless. You had become restless during the nights because of how homesick you were, and you found something which could become a life-long love. And, well, you really didn’t mind that Cedric was along for the ride.

#Cedric Diggory x reader #Cedric Diggory #Cedric Diggory oneshot #Harry Potter #Harry Potter oneshot #oneshot #one shot #cedricd #request #x reader

602 notes · View notes

grey-water-colors · 3 years

Text

After All This Time (Bucky Barnes X Fem!Reader) Part 2

I went ahead and wrote the second chapter, I was so excited. I did a lot of research on PTSD and the triggers. I may not have a full grasp on it, but I hope I at least got some of it right. I feel kinda iffy on writing the characters, but I did my best to stay true to who they are. I hope you like this chapter!

Summary: The real world is a scary place, even more so when you’re alone. You live alone in a apartment filed with the ghosts of your memories. You’ve both changed since you last met your fiancé, but can love mend the gap after all this time.

Pairing: Bucky X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of torture, violence, yelling. Talks about triggers and PTSD. Mentions of death and killing. If there are any that I missed please let me know!

Word Count: 2,492

Part 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Steve, I don’t understand why you’re dragging me out here to this museum.”

“They told me that they made a new addition to the Captain America exhibit and I didn’t want to go alone.”

Bucky clenched his vibranium hand and continued to follow Steve. “Did they at least tell you what it’s about?”

Steve sighed, “No, they didn’t. I wish they had though, I hate going into these things blind. Who knows what they’ve dug up.

“Steve, did you find it?”

“Uh, yeah Buck. I don’t think you want to see it though. It’s something they had no business digging in”

“What is it Steve. And don’t even think of lying to me, I know you too well.”

Steve sighed and led Bucky to the new exhibit. A memorial just like Bucky’s, but it was dedicated to Y/N L/N.

Bucky scoffed but read it out loud anyways. “Y/N L/N was a childhood friend of both Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes. Y/N met the two in 1923 and they were close ever since. In 1941 record says that she became engaged to Sargent Barnes, but never married. Y/N was drafted as an Army Nurse but died in Germany in 1944.” A picture of her before the war and in a case were her dog tags, which was weird. If she hadn’t been found, how were her tags here.

Bucky trailed off, the rest just going on about what kind of person she was. They stood in silence for a while, both staring at her picture. Steve finally broke the silence, “How much of her do you remember?”

Bucky looked away and tried to remember the girl in front of him. Flashes of smiles, tears, and laughter floated through his head, but he could only focus on one memory.

“I don’t remember her before the war.” Steve’s head moved to look at Bucky so fast that his neck cracked.

“What do you mean before the war Buck.”

He looked at Steve and backed up until he could collapse on a bench. A deep breath then, “I remember seeing her when I was the Winter Soldier. I vaguely remember a mission, maybe a couple, and then an order. I couldn’t help myself. All I could do was watch as I choked her to death, them dragging her away after declaring her dead.”

He shook his head as if he could erase the memory, make it disappear to never see again.

“If you killed her-“ Steve paused, “If you went on missions with her then she didn’t die in 1944. She was captured by Hydra. Then there could be a possibility that she, well that she could still be alive. Could it be possible that it was staged? Buck is there any chance at all that she could still be alive?”

Bucky shook his head again and looked at his hands. “I felt it Steve, I felt her neck crush. There’s no way she survived that.”

He took a deep sigh and felt the world shift, his heart plummeted to the ground as he realized the full gravity of what happened. “Oh god. Oh god, I killed her. I killed my fiancé, Steve.”

Steve just sat down next to Bucky, still in shock. She had been a good friend to Steve. They had come from similar backgrounds, hell they had grown up together, she understood him in a way that Bucky never could have at the time. She had been there when needed and even when she wasn’t. A ray of sunshine in a dreary New York. He had taken a picture of them after Bucky had proposed. They were all so happy.

It shook Steve to his core that Hydra had gotten their hands on her. He couldn’t imagine the horrors that she had gone through, might still be going through much like his best friend. Was she as much of a shell as Bucky?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It felt good to walk into her apartment without having to break in. She had hassled every office and bank that had her name in its databases to get her back as a registered live, human being. And to get electricity and water going to her place.

She had already been living in the apartment, but now she could cook, light a fire, and make noise. With her accounts opened again, she bought a couple pairs of clothes to wear while she cleaned the place.

Starting with the kitchen she cleaned every surface, threw away all the canned food that had been left behind.

By the time she had finished cleaning, she was physically exhausted, but she couldn’t bring herself to sleep in the master bedroom. She had managed to turn off her emotions for the day. No tears had been spilled because there had been work to get done. But her new superpower didn’t work now that she had nothing to do. Y/N stood in the middle of the living room desperately trying to stuff her emotions back into the box they had been in, but they had seen their chance and taken it.

Tears filled her eyes and she took her first real look around the place she had once called home. It was like she had never left at all. A place for everything and everything in its place. She turned to face the worn leather wingback. The thick blanket draped over the back just like it always had. She shuffled over to the chair and sat down in it. The leather was cold but familiar with the smell of her life before the war. Ghosts of days past floated through the air around her. She curled up in the chair, thick blanket pulled over her.

Things had been so easy then, and it would be so easy now to just fall back into that time when everything was perfect. Except the person that had helped make it perfect wasn’t here. A tear fell from her cheek onto the leather, and she quickly brushed it off not wanting to ruin the chair.

As she was wallowing in self-pity, a fight broke out on the street below her window, voices piercing the air and pulling her back to a place she never wanted to go again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Project Cecilia had become a nightmare. A nightmare she couldn’t wake up from. The project was a testing ground of trial and error. They tested the trial serums, triggers, enforcers, and everything else to make sure that they wouldn’t damage whoever took the role of Winter Soldier. The project was named after the scientist who did most of the testing.

The serums were bad, it felt like lighting her blood on fire, like hell itself was inside her. But trigger testing was far worse. For every test or experiment, a trigger experiment came after. Is sound more effective than smell? Are words better than sounds? What kind of words work better than others?

Trial and error for over 30 different types of triggers until they settled on a list of words that would mean something to the Winter Soldier. Her mind was blocked off so carefully that she couldn’t remember anything before the last trigger.

Here she was, testing how much electricity a super soldier could take before things started to shut down. And then the doctor walked in. Constantine Cecilia was the man who haunted her dreams. She couldn’t ever quite remember who he was, but somehow she knew that when he arrived, things would be bad.

“How is our little rabbit doing today? I believe a congratulations are in order, you finished testing.”

He put on plastic gloves and his assistant walked up to them both. “She’s due for sound this time.”

The doctor smiled. “Good good.”

Things were going well; the set-up went smoothly. She was ready to receive the trigger, the thing her mind would take as a trauma to seal away all of the bad.

But then a fight broke out, and then people were yelling, screaming at each other. The trigger was set.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shuri had done her best at getting rid of the physical effect of the triggers, and by best, she was completely successful. Unfortunately, there was still an emotional effect that came with the triggers. Certain smells, sounds, colors, and even sometimes emotions would send her spiraling into a memory. Most were memories that terrified her, they brought her back to Hydra and their torture. Some were good, like remembering life before the war.

They happened less at home, surrounded by memories of a past that never hurt. The outside world was what tortured her. Going outside was like sentencing herself to relive the worst of her life.

And she remembered it all. Hydra had done such a good job of playing Tetris with her brain that every time that Shuri released a trigger, she remembered everything. Y/N bet that Dr. Cecilia was laughing in his grave at her tragedy.

Y/N fell asleep under the thick blanket on the chair of the man she had loved more than anything else in the whole world.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N decided to visit the Veterans Center, hoping that they magically had the cure for what Shuri called PTSD. She walked inside and was met with the smell of burnt coffee and laughter down the hall. She followed the noise until she came to what looked like a break room, or a very poor excuse for a kitchen.

A tall man took notice of her and he excused himself to go talk to her.

“Hi, can I help you?”

“I, uhh, came here to talk to someone, hopefully.” Y/N cursed herself for feeling so small. She was a veteran after all. She just fought in a different war.

“Are you a vet?”

“Yes?”

He smiled, “Well then welcome. My name is Sam Wilson. I help run this place. Mostly I work with the people though. Business isn’t really my style.”

Y/N gave a weak smile.

Sam spoke up again, much to her relief. “Why don’t we go somewhere to talk so we aren’t standing in a door way.”

She merely nodded and followed Sam to a room with foldable chairs and a couple beat up sofas.

After they had sat down, and awkward silence filled the air. Sam cleared his throat, “So what’s your name?”

Y/N took a deep breath and “My name is Y/N”

Sam nodded. “What war did you serve in Y/N?”

She froze, of course she could just answer him. She heard there was a whole museum dedicated to the two oldest people on the planet, so why was it so hard?

“You don’t have to tell me if you aren’t comfortable with it. I’m not going to force you into anything here. It’s a safe place.” The genuinely caring smile on his face helped her relax.

“I fought in World War II.”

Sam looked startled for a second. “Excuse me?”

“I was a nurse with the Red Cross in World War II.”

She watched as Sam’s shoulders dropped. Y/N prepared to fight, to tell him that it was true, without going through the horrors that she had witnessed. She prepared to give him the riot act like she had for every person who hadn’t believed her at the bank and social security office.

Instead, he started laughing. “Man, I wonder how many more of you there are out there,” Sam said between breaths.

The look of confusion on her face must have put more puzzle pieces together for him at how lost she really was.

“You… You actually believe me?”

“Yeah I do! I work with the other two.”

She suddenly felt cold, like someone had just dumped a bucket of ice water over her head. While Shuri had told her about James, or Bucky, and about Steve and how they both lived in New York in the Avengers Compound, it had never occurred to her that they were so close. So close, yet so far away. Her heart dropped.

“How exactly do you know them? You said you worked with them, so you must be an Avenger I suppose.”

“How much do you know about this time and place?”

She felt, for the first time since she left Wakanda, that someone understood. Only a fraction maybe, but an understanding all the same. Sam somehow knew that she didn’t know much about the present she found herself in. She didn’t really care to learn either though, the world was scary, and she had to face it alone for the first time in her life.

“Not much. I’ve only been off ice for about 9 and a half months now. Most of that was spent in Wakanda, while Shuri worked on getting rid of my triggers.” The more she talked the more Sam’s face filled with understanding and horror and that scared her.

“You were captured by Hydra weren’t you?”

All she could do was nod, her head held low.

“I won’t ask about that. I know better than that. I can’t even begin to imagine the horrors you’ve been through.

“Well, I’m the Falcon, I fly and I see things really well with my goggles. Other than that I’m just a human, no serum or anything.”

It was like all she could do was nod her head, she had been robbed of words.

“Would it be ok if I went home?”

“Of course! Nothing is keeping you here. I’m glad we met, and you’re more than welcome to come by anytime at all. We do close at 9 pm, but here’s my phone number if you need anything after those hours.”

More nodding. Y/N rushed home.

The first thing she did was climb into the chair, drape the blanket over her, and tell a ghost of what happened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Sam are you ok? You seem distracted today”

“Yeah. Yeah man I’m good.” Sam looked at Steve for a minute. “Say have you ever met someone named Y/N L/N? She came into the VA today and when I asked what war she fought in she said WWII. She was captured by Hydra. I didn’t press her on it, she got that same look that Bucky does when it gets brought up.”

Steve froze. “What was her name?”

“Y/N L/N, do you know her?”

“Are you sure about what you told me?”

“Yeah. Why? What’s going on?”

“What did she look like?”

“She had H/L hair and E/C eyes. She was about yay-tall” Sam held up a hand to about her height. “Again, do you know her?”

“I promise I’ll tell you later, but I gotta go.”

Steve took off running through the compound until he got to Bucky’s door. He hadn’t seen Bucky since the museum, but this was important. He pounded on the door, “Buck! Bucky! Open the door!”

A quiet mumbled “Go away Steve” came as a response.

“Bucky,” Steve pleaded. “She’s alive. Sam met her today.”

Silence.

Then the door opened. “Where?”

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky fic #mcu #x reader #x female reader #marvel #marvel imagine #bucky barnes au #reader insert #mcu imagine #marvel universe #the avengers

70 notes · View notes

kiirokero · 3 years

Text

Zephyr (MYG)

Zephyr: A soft gentle breeze; Comforting wind on a hot summer's day.

Part of the “Protect the Village!” Oneshot series.

Masterlist

Pairing: Florist!Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Fluff, mentions of death (not major, don’t worry) Yoongles doesn’t know how to express himself, soft boi hours.

Note: Time for me to pass out. We’re back on schedule hoes. :)

Summary: First, it was flowers for your grandmother. Next, it was flowers for a sick friend. Now, its flowers because the handsome flower shop owner lives in your head rent free.

Word Count: 4.3k

A dense, luscious forest surrounds Bangtan Village. Filled with sturdy oak trees and delicate blooming flowers. As far as the eye can see, it’s nature. Trees stretch to the heavens, touching the sky with their strong appendages. Flowers draping over the petrichor forest floor, gracing those who walk through its lush maze.

It’s magical, really. Some rumour that Bangtan Village is ancient, rivaling the Mayans. Local historians say that the people here were protecting something that lays dormant in the forest. What that relic is? A mystery to most. But town elders always warn against wandering in the woods. Whispers of a magical heart that keeps the town alive roles through the town every year after New Year’s celebrations.

Because nobody knows why every year the village gets a new influx of natural resources

But thanks to this odd phenomenon, Min Yoongi never runs out of flowers. Peonies, sunflowers, hibiscuses. Every kind of flower grows in that forest, regardless if it scientifically should. Everyone collectively dismisses the impossible things that go on beyond those trees. Ignorance is bliss.

So because of the logic defying forest, Min Yoongi always has the best flowers. Which, in turn, means you always know where to find spider lilies.

Any event. Birthdays, weddings, minor celebrations. They always called for flowers. That was your motto. Flowers make everything better. Roses here, daisies there. Nothing can go wrong with flowers. They can make someone smile, ignite love, mourn a loss. Flowers can do anything, and your glad Min Yoongi indulges your thinking.

She loved roses.

Your grandmother was a bit old-fashioned. Not the most tech savvy, would rather do things by hand, and was a sucker for a beautiful red rose. Maybe it was because those were the flowers in her wedding bouquet. Or maybe its because your grandfather always brought her one every single day before he passed. It doesn’t matter.

What matters is your getting her those roses, one last time.

When you first walked into Min’s Flowers, it had a peculiar petrichor smell. Like the shop was in an endless cycle of spring. Solf showers and light rays. It was a comforting calmness that soothed the cracks in your heart. Every which was there was a flower resting in peaceful serenity.

All the flowers seemed to look dreary, or maybe the soft petals were acting as a mirror, reflecting the melancholy of the day. You wouldn’t know. The only thing currently on your mind was red roses. Red roses. You needed to get those red roses.

Walking deeper into the shop, the walls greeted you with blissful silence. Not a sound was made, not a person in sight, shopkeeper or customer. It was just you and the flowers. A cruel thing, really. Alone with beautiful works of art that couldn’t distract your racing mind with words, only looks. But everywhere you looked, memories of your grandmother lingered. You needed words to revive your slowly beating heart.

“Hey, can I help you with anything?” A gruff voice sounded through the hazy, quiet aura of the shop. Turning around, you saw a man with scruffy noir hair. He wasn’t the tallest, but wasn’t short either. He had sharp brown eyes that emanated a hidden warmth encased in cool glass. His skin was as pale as petunias and he wore a desaturated blue apron with flowers peaking out of the pocket.

“I’m looking for red roses...” You somberly informed, unable to keep the emotion out of your voice. His cat-like eyes slightly softened, flashing a look of sympathy for your lost soul. You wondered if he often encountered lost souls here in the shop, using his business as a pit stop in a wayward journey. “I have just what you’re looking for,” He said, gesturing me to follow him.

He led you through the shop in silence, like a drifting ghost. He floated elegantly through his shop, uncaring of the twist and turns that appeared in his way, even if there were few. Soon, he led you to an area full of roses, all different colors. White, blue, yellow. It was a beautiful image.

But he walked passed them, going towards a door in the back. “Where are we going?” You asked, stopping just a bit behind him. “Those roses are pretty, yes, but I think you need something more,” He said, face unchanging from a stoic expression. He opened the door, walking inside to grab something out of the artificially sun lit room.

Reappearing, he held a bouquet full of two dozen bright red roses. The petals undamaged, their color as lush as the day they came out of the Earth. “I’ve been saving these for a special occasion, I think they’d be of use to you now,” The man said, handing you the bouquet, You held them gently, afraid to damage the perfect flowers.

“How are they so perfect?” You marveled, unable to peel your eyes away from the beauty of which you held. “A lot of odd things happen in Bangtan,” Was his answer, nothing more. “Go on, I’m sure you have somewhere to be,” He said, putting a soft hand on your back, guiding you to the entrance you came in from.

“But I have to pay!” You protested, but the man didn’t stop guiding you. “Consider it a gift,” He shrugged. “But I don’t even know your name,” You argued, looking at him incredulously. “It’s Yoongi, what’s yours?” He asked, tilting his head slightly. “Y/n,” You answered. “Well Y/n, it was nice to meet you. Now go on, I hope those roses bring peace,”

You didn’t go back to Min’s Flowers for three months. You decided it would be best to mourn in your own way, by yourself. That didn’t mean your close friends didn’t keep an eye on you though, Jimin and Jeongguk would never let you forget that they were there for you. Whether it was late night junk food runs to Hoseok’s store or messing around with Taehyung at the bakery. They made sure you knew they were there, waiting for you when you were ready to be picked back up and put back together.

Which you were. You picked yourself back up and hammered yourself together. Life didn’t wait for anyone. Seasons still changed, flowers still bloomed, zephyrs still came and went. Maybe the tape you used to patch yourself up was still a bit brittle, maybe the glue you used to fill the cracks in your heart hasn’t quite dried yet, but you were okay.

And Jimin was not. Poor bastard caught a nasty case of the flu and has been miserable ever since. Jeongguk and you have been taking care of him whenever you could, and when he started complaining about missing the outside, flowers seemed like the perfect remedy. “I really like yellow and white chrysanthemums”

Those were Jimin's words when you asked him what his favorite flower was, and by golly were you going to get him the prettiest yellow and white chrysanthemums ever. So that’s how you found yourself back at the shop which aided your once wayward soul.

The shop still had that same comforting petrichor scent. Memories of the pixie like world that the flower shop simulated came back to you as you saw the same flowers in the exact same places as last time. When you first came to the shop, you had a heart leaking with melancholy. Now, you have a heart with scars and a mission to make your friend feel better.

“Oh, you’re back,” A familiar voice said. Turning, you saw the same man as before. He had mint hair now, standing at the counter. “That I am, Yoongi,” You said. You don’t know why the name stuck in your head the way it did, but you couldn’t forget it. Every time you thought about getting some flowers, Yoongi popped into your head.

It surprised Yoongi that you remembered his name. He thought that the interaction between the two of you was significant to him and him only. But hearing your soft utterance of his name made him freeze longer than he should’ve. “I’m surprised you remember me,” He said, cracking the slightest of smiles.

“You’re memorable, I suppose,” You chuckled, taking a few steps deeper into the indoor forest that was Yoongi’s flower shop. “So what brings you here this time?” Yoongi asked, not taking his eyes off of you. “My friend’s sick, so I wanted to get his favorite flower to cheer him up,”

Yoongi nodded, walking around the counter to stand in front of you. “Well, I can guarantee that I have it here. What are we looking for?” He said, voice unchanging from a dull tone. “Yellow and white chrysanthemums,” You said, and Yoongi didn’t need to hear anymore before he was guiding you once more through the shop. The floor was slightly wet, showing that Yoongi had watered the flowers recently.

Quietly, he led you to where he kept the chrysanthemums, gesturing one of his hands to the yellow and white ones. “Go ahead and pick. A dozen flowers are 9,000 won,” Yoongi said, walking away to do his shopkeeper things.

That day you stayed in the shop a bit longer than you expected. You and Yoongi talked for what seemed like forever. Maybe it was minutes, maybe it hours, you wouldn’t know. You didn’t care, Yoongi was like a breath of fresh air. A whispering zephyr during the summer solstice.

So you kept coming back, again and again. Every day after work you made your way to Min’s Flowers, eager to talk to your new florist friend. You would arrange bouquets with him, tell him jokes, watch movies on the tv he had in the back. No matter the day or the weather, you never failed to meet with Yoongi every single day. Sometimes with Jimin and Jeongguk, sometimes alone.

You couldn’t get enough. Yoongi couldn’t get enough, and that scared him.

Min Yoongi was a quiet man. He preferred to stick to himself, hoping to limit the amount of human interaction he had on a daily basis. It’s not that he didn’t like people, per se, but he just rarely got along with others. It was a problem for him since Kindergarten. Being overly blunt with peers or arguing with the teacher.

He just drove people away with his cold aura and “unforgiving” personality. Yes, Yoongi had friends. He had Hoseok, Namjoon, Jin, Taehyung, even Jimin and Jeongguk hung out with him from time to time. But he’s never had that certain type of connection with someone.

Yoongi used to think he was critically apathetic. That no matter how much he wanted to bounce off the walls in celebration when Taehyung met his business goal, he couldn’t. He couldn’t muster up anything other than a “That’s good, I’m happy for you,” And he was! He knew he was, but he didn’t quite express that he was.

It left Yoongi feeling inferior, like he was a bad person. What kind of friend comforts you after a breakup by saying, “Love is dead anyway,”? Min Yoongi, apparently. Yeah, Yoongi had feelings. Things made him sad, mad, happy, annoyed. He wasn’t entirely broken. But those feeling felt like they were dampened, diluted.

“Aren’t you happy? Sad? Mad?” Those were the words Yoongi dreaded, because the answer was always yes. Yes, he was happy that Jin got a girlfriend. Yes, he was sad that Jeongguk couldn’t find the person painting flowers all over Bangtan village. Yes, he was mad Jimin shattered one of his terracotta pots. He just didn’t express it well.

But you never seemed to care.

You took Yoongi’s blunt words at face value. You believed him when he said, “That’s funny,” at one of your embarrassing childhood stories. You didn’t question why he wasn’t crying during “The Notebook” even if the tragic story silently broke his heart. You took his small smile just as seriously as you would a full one. That made Yoongi happy, even if he couldn’t express that to you.

You didn’t treat Yoongi’s lack of expression as a bad thing. You didn’t think he was cold and uncaring, because you knew he was. Actions speak louder than words. When he bandaged your ankle after you slipped in a puddle one day in the shop. When he gave you half of his granola bar after hearing your stomach rumble. Or how he never fails to ask how your day went, even if it sounded rather uncaring to the average person.

Yoongi didn’t know when it happened or how. Yoongi didn’t know why your simple touches turned smouldering to him. Or why your smile was a picture he’d look at forever. He doesn’t know when he started eagerly looking at the clock, waiting for 4pm when you’d undoubtedly would come visit him at the shop. Yoongi didn’t know when it hit him, when his horribly suppressed emotions made him feel something like no other.

Yoongi didn’t know when he fell in love with you, but damn did he fall hard.

“Alright Yoongs, I agree with you on most things, but mint chocolate ice cream is definitely not it.” You argued, poking his carton of green ice cream with your spoon. “Well, coffee-flavored ice cream is weird too,” Yoongi retorted, stuffing a spoon full of ice cream monstrosity into his mouth. You dramatically gasped, “Yoongi! Coffee is totally a valid flavor,” You laid your head on the table inside Yoongi’s back room, putting a hand to your heart, “You wound me,”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, going back to his pint of frozen goodness. “You’re ridiculous,” He said, shaking his head. “Hold on, I speak Yoongi. You just said that I’m funny and you love me,” You teased. Yoongi felt his face slightly flush at your words, but he cleared his throat, changing the topic. “Whatever, wanna arrange a wedding bouquet with me?”

You quickly sat up, stars in your eyes as you ecstatically nodded your head. “Hells yes!” Yoongi hummed, grabbing both pints of ice cream and putting them away in the mini refrigerator he had. “Let’s go then, I already have my work space set up,” He said, walking out the room to which you happily followed him.

“So, a marriage? Is it a big one?” You asked. Yoongi shrugged, sitting down in his work chair to which he already had a spare one set up next to it. “I guess, I mean, how big can things get in Bangtan Village?” He said, picking up roses and cutting off bits of their stems.

“I dunno Yoongs, remember that time you found a huge sunflower in the forest? Bangtan Village may have a small population, but things can get pretty weird here,” You chuckled, joining Yoongi in his somewhat tedious task. “Yes, you are correct. Many things in that forest surprise me.” He said, nonchalantly.

“Really? Are there fairies? White stags? Gremlins?” You asked, turning towards the man contently snipping away at the stems next to you. “You and your fairy tales,” Yoongi sighed, secretly finding your interest in the unexplainable cute.

The two of you worked together in silence, enjoying each other's presence as the artful skills Yoongi had with flowers created beautiful bouquets. But the silent atmosphere was suddenly broken when your phone rang. Fishing it out of your pocket, Jeongguk's face appeared on the screen. You excused yourself and answered the phone outside, leaving Yoongi alone in the room. To him it felt a bit colder now.

A couple minutes later, you peaked your head in the door, gaining Yoongi’s attention with a smile. “Sorry to say this Yoongs, but I have to help Jeongguk with something,” You said. Yoongi felt disappointed, but his face remained unchanging. “Oh... Okay... Do you- Nevermind,” Do you have too? Is what Yoongi wanted to ask. He didn’t want you to go, he wanted you to stay and make pretty flower arrangements with him. But he couldn’t express it.

“I’ll be back tomorrow, don’t miss me too much, okay?” You joked, bidding the gruff florist a farewell. Yoongi tried to. But he really did miss you. Not only that, he felt... Jealous... He found himself wishing he was Jeongguk or wishing that you left your phone on silent so you wouldn’t hear his call.

It was selfish, Yoongi knew that, but that didn’t mean the feeling didn’t go away. He didn’t like this feeling. His emotions may feel weaker than others, but jealously always came on strong. Why did he have to be like this? Why couldn’t he just admit his feelings for you, ask you out on a date, tell you all the things that ran through his head about you?

He needed to do something. What if Jeongguk made a move on you? What if you guys were kissing right now? Or worse, on a date... Yoongi’s heart felt heavy. His heart was heavy and his stomach was queezy.

One good thing came from Yoongi’s less than normal emotional responses. It meant embarrassment and shame were less of a bitch. Still total bitches, but bitches on chill pills. “Alright,” Yoongi told himself, “Operation fuck my emotional response and ask Y/n out on a date is a go,” Yoongi immediately pulled out his phone, dialing his friend Jin.

“Hello!” Jin answered. “Hyung... I need your help with something.” Yoongi said, his voice deadly serious. “What’s up?” Yoongi took a deep breath, wiping his sweaty palms on his apron.

“You have a girlfriend...” Yoongi blurted out

“Yes...?” Jin chuckled

“And you asked her out,”

“That is correct.”

“How did you do that?”

Yoongi heard Jin’s squeaky laugh through the phone. “What?” He asked, confusion clear in his voice. “How d'you ask her out...?” Yoongi asked again. “I told her that I had feelings for her and asked her to go out with me,” Jin answered, most likely shrugging those broad shoulders of his. “How were you able to express your feelings?” Yoongi sighed.

Jin was well aware about Yoongi’s trouble expressing himself in a way that didn’t make kids cry from his scary, brooding face. He had even helped him on a few occasions when he had to apologize and look like he meant it, (Whether he really did or not) But expressing a feeling like a crush or even love, was different for everybody.

“Yoongi, are you trying to ask that Y/n girl out?” Jin inquired, hearing a thing or two about you from when Yoongi dropped hints here and there. “Yes...” Yoongi said, resting his chin on his hand in defeat. “Yoongi, buddy, there’s no “right way” to express your feelings to somebody, you just have to do it in a way that is right for you.” Jin advised.

“But the way I express things isn’t particularly... Nice,” Yoongi said.

“Yoongi, if she likes you too she’ll accept that your just you,” Jin stressed, “And if what you tell me about the way she treats you, I’m sure she’ll understand just how hard and serious it is for you to admit something like this,”

Maybe Jin was right, you’d get that he’s basically head over heels for you, right? You know how he operates. You always treated him like a normal human with normal expressive capabilities. Okay, he’ll do it.

Yoongi can’t do this. What was he thinking? Inviting you over at 9pm to “help him with flowers” was probably the worse idea he’s ever had. You probably think he’s a weirdo. More of a weirdo than he actually is. What is he supposed to do?

Well, it was too late. Because you just came barging through the door with a bag of takeout and that beautiful, blinding smile on your face. “Yoongs!” You exclaimed, placing down the food and giving him a hug. “Another emergency flower order?” You asked, taking out styrofoam containers and disposable chopsticks.

“Um... No. Yes... No,” He said, unusually indecisive. Yoongi sighed, sitting down at the table and taking a huge bite of the food that you handed him. “Yoongs, are you okay?” You asked, brows creased in worry. “I’m fine,” He shrugged, but you knew better.

“Are you sure? You seem a bit off,” You pushed, hoping he would give you the honest answer. “Mhmm. I just- uh... I’m just tired,” He answered, turning his attention back to his food. You frowned, picking your lukewarm dumpings.

You liked to call yourself a Yoongi translator. You knew a lot about his body language and usage of words. “I’m fine.” Usually meant just that. He was fine and meant it. But paired with his odd behavior just moments ago, you knew something was up.

But you also knew that Yoongi wasn’t an expressive person. He didn’t show powerful emotions very often. Yeah, he’s genuinely smiled before and chuckled. However, that was few and far between. Yoongi wasn’t good at expressing himself, and now that fact only worried you more.

“Hey Yoongs, you know the meanings of different flowers right?” You asked, brewing up an idea in your head. “Um, yes. You revealed that embarrassing fact when you snooped through my old books.” He said, raising his eyebrow incredulously. “What are you planning?” He asked.

You said nothing, instead opting to grab Yoongi and drag him out into the store. “Tell me how your feeling, but with the flowers,” You said. Yoongi looked at you like you’ve grown 3 head, “What?” He asked, still sounding iconically unimpressed. “I know something’s bothering you. I know it’s hard for you to express things sometimes, so tell me without words,” You explained, urging Yoongi to do as you say. “You don’t know the meanings though,” He argued. “Wrong. I studied them for a month straight to impress you. It’ll be fine,” You gave him a smile, and he felt his resolve breaking.

Yoongi thought about it for a second. Originally he was planning on just forgetting his entire plan and watching trash tv with you in the back until the sun came up, but this could work. Does he want it to work? Will you understand what he means when he gives you a pink camellia? Will you be weirded out if he presented you with red chrysanthemum?

It was worth a shot.

Yoongi sighed, giving into your admittedly smart idea. This could work. Yoongi ran around the shop, picking out flowers of different kinds and colors, coming back to you with a messy bouquet. “Okay, lets begin. You won’t have to talk or explain, you can just nod your head,” You said. Yoongi nodded, handing you his first flower.

A yellow hyacinth.

“Jealousy? Are you jealous of someone?” You asked,

Yoongi nodded.

A vine of ivy

“...Friendship? A friend? Are you jealous of a friend?”

Another nod.

Gardenia

“Secret love... You have a crush on somebody?” Your heart stung a bit at that one, but you schooled your emotions. This was about Yoongi, not you. “Your jealous of your crush?” You asked, but Yoongi shook his head no. “Your jealous of... your crushes friend...?” You guessed, Yoongi nodded, stoic face still unchanging.

A red columbine.

“Anxious, your crush makes you anxious?” You asked. Yoongi didn’t answer right away, but he lifted his hand and made a “sort of” motion. You racked your brain again for a moment. “Having a crush... makes you nervous?”

Yoongi nodded

“Is it because your bad at expressing yourself?”

Yoongi gave you a ‘duh’ face, holding out another flower.

A yellow carnation

“They rejected you?” Yoongi shook his head, pointing back to the red columbine, “Ohhh, you’re scared that they will reject you.” A nod.

Yoongi had one more flower left, but he didn’t give it to you just yet. He hid it behind his back, away from view, so you opted to cheer him up a bit in hopes that you’ll be able to comfort him enough to express this last thing. “Yoongs, you’re a great dude! Anybody would be lucky to have you! Sure, maybe your not as dramatic as me, but you care in your own way. That’s all that matters,” You said, giving him a smile.

Yoongi looked away from you to the side. He wasn’t usually a nervous person. Why is he so nervous? Why is this the one emotion that’s cripplingly strong? He could do it. He didn’t even have to say anything, just hand you the goddamn flower. He’s psyching himself out. Quickly, he thrusted the flower towards you without thinking.

Chucking, you took it in your hands

A red rose.

I love you.

“Yoongi, you should give this to your crush, not me,” You chuckled, but Yoongi didn’t move, just stared at you with unimpressed eyes. “Yoongs, you don’t mean...” “I love you,” He blurted out, a soft blush dusting his cheeks. “Y-You do?” You asked.

One last nod.

“Sup loser,” You lovingly greeted your grumpy boyfriend, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Yoongi rolled his eyes, wrapping an arm around your waist from where he was sat in his work chair, meticulously finishing up his last order of the day. “And you claim you love me when you treat me like that,” He said, voice gruff and scratchy from not using it for a while.

“Yeah, yeah, I love you too,” You chuckled. Yoongi bent down under the table and grabbed a flower, wordlessly handing it to you. “A red camellia?” You asked, taking a whiff of its pleasing aroma. “I’m expressing,” He said, and you nodded, understanding.

Yoongi’s gotten a bit better with expressing himself, but it can still be hard for him. As a solution, he talks to you in flowers when he wants to say something but can’t form the words. “You’re the flame in my heart too Yoongs,” You smiled, kissing the top of his head

Yoongi might not know the exact moment he fell in love with you. All he knew is that it happened swiftly and silently.

Like a zephyr on a warm day.

#yoongi #min yoongi #suga #yoongi x reader #bts #bts fic #bts oneshot #yoongi oneshot #fluff

81 notes · View notes

leviiattacks · 3 years

Text

Two Faced | Chapter Eight

↳ levi ackerman, the very person who was about to kindly behead you by a surprising turn of events manages to become your loving husband? you would be elated if this was true love, but it’s all thanks to a mysterious magic spell that your life is spared, for now at least.

pairing :: duke!levi x duchess!reader genre :: royal au ??? (at this point idek) angst, fluff, slice of life etc ?? word count :: 4.8k author note :: i’ve been very ill so yeah, not the best writing but i really can’t go that long without wanting to write so i ended up writing an update, i hope you enjoy it, it’s longer than usual :D sorry for any mistakes it hasn’t been proof read at all :-( → next part coming soon!!

“Hey, newbie you haven't spoke about your home town much have ya?"

You lift your head, verifying Reiner's suspicions with a nod. You recall he's the same distasteful blonde brute who made those snide remarks about Hange. He must be at least a towering six foot if his shadow is able to cover the majority of the Sun's rays from hitting you.

You would maybe bother to give him and his inquiry more attention than you currently are if he hadn't been so unnecessarily impolite during the morning speeches.

Calves yelping in stinging pain from the first tastes of the full time training regime you simply cannot find the effort to strain your mind with small talk.

Temples throbbing it feels as if a sword has been forced through the side of your head, but that's not it at all. Reiner has thrown a small rock at you and you hear him chuckle under his breath.

Twisting your position so you face him you glare in displeasure.

Although you don't particularly enjoy the idea of joining Levi's unit and having to become a concealed agent of sorts you can't really take your pickings at how it is you wish to survive. You're going to have to deal with it and you've come to the stage of acceptance now.

However, you are not willing to respect the attitude some of these cadets are giving you, it's clear there's already a strong hierarchy in place.

Reiner just so happens to be one of the big guns from what you've been able to observe. He possess strong upper body strength and his hand to hand combat isn't a laughing matter either. That means he's higher up in the ladder of cadets, that's for sure. To top it all off you know you're not as powerful as other members in the team in terms of skill and he's probably silently making a mockery of you for it.

Pursing your lips you decide to play this game cautiously, asking him what it is he needs from you isn't the best option. You're aware he's after something, it's written all over his face. You practically know every deceptive look in the book off by heart. You suppose it's the only perk you got out of living in a noble household for most of your life.

"Why do you care?" You bluntly question him.

"Ohh, you're feisty. Might not want to butt heads with Annie."

"Not sure who that is but I don't plan on it."

Turning away from him it look like you're distracting yourself by collecting pieces of firewood. Trailing around you act as uncaring as possible to annoy him. You need to gauge this man's reaction somehow.

Your plan seems to be working in your favour because you're able to see his footing shift from his natural stance, it looks as if he's about to risk charging at you due to your vulnerable position but you rotate again offering him a knowing smile.

You don't tell him you're conscious of his suspicious nature but if he's quick witted enough he'll be able to figure out you aren't a threat and apparently don't have a clue what it is he's up to. The only reason he'd even consider attacking you would be if he saw you as an issue. For now your act should at least keep him at bay.

"Fine. I'll tell you about my hometown, I'm just..." You pause to make yourself look believable and proceed to look up at him through your lashes, you dart your gaze away and awkwardly scratch the back of your neck exuding coyness.

"I'm incredibly homesick. I miss mother. I always made supper for her, now I can only pray she's not eating burnt chicken." Your act has to be working because his eyes soften and he takes half of the firewood in your arms offering to help you carry it.

"My mum's a great cook, can't relate squirt."

"Who you calling squirt?" You playfully snap back.

"I call everybody that, even Captain Levi... Well, when he isn't around to hear it."

You bite the inside of your cheek at the mention of the Levi's name.

“So you and the Captain? What’s that all about?” His question makes no sense at all, one minute he wants to prod and poke in your personal home life yet the next minute he's asking questions about Levi. The doubts you have surrounding him only thicken.

You take a moment to consider his question,

“Whatever do you mean?” Clueless, you're delivery is excellent. Acting naive is easy enough, everyone within the corps has already decided that's what your automatic disposition is.

Reiner gives you a skeptical look then smiles faintly, “Glaring daggers at Jean after he got handsy with you?”

You cover your mouth with your free hand and laugh so hard the firewood nearly flies out of your grasp.

“Me and Jean are friends, and Levi? He just wanted to find a reason to get mad at us probably.” You hope the explanation suffices because you truly have no idea why Levi had done what he did.

Reiner hums in approval at your answer but he then grins.

“You on first name basis with the Captain?”

Fuck, you called him Levi.

Play it cool.

“Huh? When have I ever said his first name?” Clueless. Your delivery is still perfect.

“Just now.” He fires back, Reiner doesn't seem to be letting up but he doesn't know how smooth of a liar you are.

Living with your father for all those years conditioned you in ways you hadn't even noticed until quite recently.

“Did I? Pardon, I didn’t mean for it to slip out. Sometimes I silently curse him out in my head and forget to add his title.”

Your acting is impeccable, Reiner has no reason to doubt you. As you expect he doesn't instead he shifts the conversation to his hometown, just like you he doesn't explicitly mention a name. Reiner is sharp but he hasn't noticed the way you've left a name out just like him. He's terrible at catching out his own kind.

You decide at that moment that Reiner Braun is a liar. The accusation is more of a hunch meaning more investigation is required.

You won't inform any of the higher ups about it just yet.

The walk back to base is filled with excruciatingly troublesome small talk and you make a mental note to take Mikasa along with you next time it's your turn retrieve the firewood.

You can't afford any more close encounters with Braun or any of his possible accomplices.

Sniggers batter your ears as soon as you step foot onto the grounds, you have a sixth sense when it comes to spiteful bad-mouthing and after the abysmal day you've had you anticipate there will be unpleasant commentary.

"Seen the way Y/N ruined the assault course today?"

"We're the finalized cadets across all the regions of Paradis. That means we have to rely on that embarrassment to fight titans."

"Good Lord, someone have mercy on our souls."

Fellow cadets press on in their criticism thinking you aren't within earshot. That, or they purposefully aim for you to pay attention to the disapproval they have of your presence.

But, you do understand where they're coming from. You make another mental note - practice a bit more later today.

The gossiping isn't anything you're unfamiliar with, your father's palace never offered kindness to you or your existence. In fact it's rather comforting being talked badly about behind your back.

That statement sounds absurd but you can't explain it. Maybe it's due to Levi typically hurling his unnecessary remarks right at you without warning. Then again he does provide everyone with that treatment, even Commander Erwin.

As you hurry away increasing the distance between you and your loud mouthed team members you spot Levi from the corner of your eye. He's in conversation with Hange but you notice how his jaw is clenched in frustration, you feel a pinch over your skin when he spares you a fleeting look. Eyes acquainting yours. Paying no attention to him you walk away as fast as you can.

The cadets only blow up in volume now, they definitely want you to hear what they have to say.

"Maybe we should ask the higher ups to throw her ou-"

"Questioning authority? Pesky mutineers aren't you?" Levi's booming voice shakes anyone within a five metre vicinity, he comes out of nowhere and seems nothing short of furious.

"You're all," He continues, voice rising, "Incredibly spineless aren't you?"

One of the cadets embellishes their face with a scowl, it doesn't go unnoticed by Levi but he astonishingly doesn't lash out, physically at least. His deathly glare is more than enough to finish the job.

Stupidly you suffer feeling your heart palpitate in your chest watching him talk to the group of three. Stupidly, you're getting your hopes up again.

He scoffs coldly, "If you're all talk why not offer to duel her?"

It doesn't take long for your heart to stop throbbing with its previous intensity. You know it was too good to be true. Levi suddenly defending you that is.

The gesture isn't done to protect or shield you. No, you're sure this man loathes you and is intending to persist on making your life as bleak and dreary as possible.

"Up to a battle Y/N?" The unnamed blonde cadet's scoffs in derision and you find yourself wanting to punch her square in the jaw.

Irritation sears through you but you meekly shake your head mumbling a weak "No thanks.", you're much too afraid to duel anyone just yet and you don't remember her from the training sessions. She must have been in a corner keeping to herself.

With all that being said and done you pathetically withdraw, and just like the past few days you sense Levi's piercing gaze erupting into your soul.

The blistering Sun hits every nook and cranny of the training ground. Waking up early already has you wanting to pass out and the heat isn't any help.

The crowd of cadets mumble in fatigue but observant Mikasa jabs you in the shoulder pointing out how far away Jean has stood from you.

You feel guilty that Jean had to suffer through the humiliation tossed at him yesterday but you are grateful to not deal with his constant questioning and talkative self this early in the morning.

All the way at the other side of the throng of soldiers he stands with Bert, who might you add is a mammoth of a man.

Through some digging (more like asking Mikasa) you've discovered he's close with Reiner and the blonde cadet from yesterday's confrontation, turns out she's the Annie that Reiner warned you off.

"ATTENTION!" Hange sing songs at the front of the training ground. They're jumping around along with Squad Leader Mike checking if everyone's in the correct uniform - Apparently the year prior a cadet showed up wearing a thick cardigan and fainted from heat stroke...

“Today’s exercise is a time to redeem yourself!” Hange’s eyes dart towards you and you smile at one another.

“A FIGHT TO THE DEATH!”

Everyone murmurs looking at each other in pure confusion.

“A fight up against another person. Whoever wins their individual fights will receive extra special privileges." The explanation seems simple enough and you’re confident that if you’re put up against the right people you can make it out safe.

The promise of a reward is also enticing.

The 104th Training Corps are thrilled, there’s nothing too hazardous about the task and it’s nothing difficult to ask for. Even you’re looking forward to it. The chance to rescue your reputation has you pumped up with adrenaline.

“My, my my. Don’t excite yourselves just yet little hens, there’s a pretty little catch.” Hange's voice is laced in mischief. This can't be any good.

Everyone stops breathing in unison and it’s pin drop silent.

“You must cause harm to your opponent in some way. Whether it be making them faint, breaking an arm, breaking a leg. There are no rules when it comes to playing dirty!”

With a playful shrug of their shoulder Hange hops off the podium.

Squad Leader Mike pulls out the list of competitors. He’s decided the line-up on his own and begins the announcement with Bertholdt.

“BERTHOLDT HOOVER..."

Bert turns to look back at Reiner hesitantly and for such a giant it’s adorable how worried he is when everyone else is perturbed thinking about the poor individual who has to go up against him.

"AGAINST Y/N L/N!"

The crowd falls silent and your mouth is wide, this is unjust there’s no way this is allowed.

“Hey, don’t you think that’s kinda unfair?” Krista speaks out for you even though Ymir is by her side trying to talk her out of getting involved.

“She stands no chance against him.” Reiner is supporting your cause too.

Mikasa takes a step forward. “I agree, it’s not right, may I take her place instead?”

“No, no! It’s alright, I’ll go for it.”

Honestly you don’t want the corps to see you as a coward. Bravery and courage is what brought everyone here. Your story is different. You’re here to selfishly save your own life, you aren’t anywhere near as valiant as the rest of them. The very least you can do is partake in activities correctly.

Stepping up to the podium you stand by Bertholdt he gives you a pitiful look whilst he mutters an apology.

Mike continues announcing the names. A few include Jean against Mikasa (Jean may as well forfeit), Marco against Annie and Connie against Reiner - that pairing eases you. At least you aren't in this alone. You and Connie stand no chance against those beasts.

Everyone lines up in their separate areas and again Bertholdt is profusely apologizing asking if you want to fake faint or anything of the sort. You shake your head and promise to give it all you've got.

And then the games begin at the sound of the bell, and damn that Bertholdt because he isn't keeping to his end of the bargain. He lunges forward viciously aiming to crush your entire body but you swiftly dodge, he tries the same approach but when you duck out of the way again he stops knowing he needs to rethinks his strategy.

"Just give it up I'll win either way."

Well, the Mister nice guy act was definitely a believable performance. He was so convincing you even contemplated feigning unconsciousness when he proposed the idea to you.

Bertholdt is much slower than you giving you more time to deliberate your incoming moves. If you can get him to edge close enough to a nearby tree and deceive him into colliding with the oak trunk you should win - only on the condition that he passes out.

The scheme is far-fetched but it's your only hope.

Dashing from various corners he flies after you, each time unable to catch up to you.

That is until you stumble and lurch to the ground. The wind is knocked out of your lungs and you panic when a large hand clutches at your ankle. Your solution? Booting him right in the teeth.

However with an earth-shattering amount of force Hoover's hold on your ankle doesn't weaken. Instead he tightens his hold like a vice. You feel it bruise and the violet discoloration that'll be present in a few hours makes you wince.

Entire body going limp on command, you stop yourself from breathing - another talent you picked up back at the palace to avoid extra beatings.

When you no longer thrash around Bertholdt stalks in to check in on you and as expected he’s now towering over you, blood overflowing in terror.

"SQUAD LEADER HANGE, CAPTAIN LEVI SHE'S NOT MOVING!" He's roaring for their help frantic and anxious. If he's caused any permanent damage he's as good as dead meat.

"Oh my Lord. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry."

Bertholdt's voice is fractured in unadulterated horror and judging by the direction you hear it at he has to be facing away from you.

Unbolting your eyes you learn your assumption is correct and despite hurried footsteps being within audible range you take your chance by the reigns.

Leaping to your feet and with no forewarning you swing your leg to the back of his neck. Stunned by the surprise attack he falls to his knees and you situate yourself in front of the oak tree you've been eyeing from the time the exercise began.

"You cunning bitch." Staggering back up he makes a swift rebound. At this point all mercy has left him and his one true aim is to completely pulverize you.

Everything is falling into place. All you need to do is wait for the right moment and finally you come across it when he suddenly pounces for you. Darting to the left you leave the space open for your prey.

Poor Bertholdt falls right into the palm of your hands like a rag doll. His momentum can't be controlled and he smashes headfirst into the trunk with a loud crunch sounding out. Bark splits and scrapes off the tree upon impact.

His head has to throb and you don't want to imagine how painful it is to feel the rivulets of soreness.

He doesn't get up and only groans, you feel half bad but after the tricks and antics he pulled you come to the conclusion that it's all deserved.

"Well, Y/N, you've proven yourself to be quite quick witted." Hange's praise is strange to hear but you beam proud that you've proven your worth.

"Oi, don't get ahead of yourself." Levi orders. "It could have been pure luck."

In spite of Levi's pessimism you bask in the glory of your win.

A week into joining Levi's unit you're becoming more accustomed to the new environment, in fact the gossiping and horrible rumours stop completely after your win and interactions with your fellow comrades feel easier and lighter.

You think the taunts will have only got more relentless after the duel fiasco but you suppose Annie chose to be considerate and take pity on you.

"Your progress has been remarkable so far." You jump when you hear Jean's deep voice appear right next to you.

Looking around to see if any other cadets are around you finally release a breath you didn't even know you were holding in.

"Ah. Thank you." You murmur quietly.

"I know it's been a week since I was scolded by the Captain but this won't count as flirting will it?"

Impeding the one sided conversation you're reflecting, you're not sure what exactly about. Probably whether or not you should maintain the discussion - if it can even be referred to as such.

Forget it. You know what they say, you only live once.

Flicking his forehead you roll your eyes, "We were never flirting he's just an over dramatic, bitter hag. I put my money on the fact he's never felt the touch of a woman before."

Jean's eyes widen in disbelief, you half expect he'll split open in tremendous laughter but he looks terrified. Then you become conscious of the fact he's not even staring at you, his eyes are engrossed by whatever is behind you.

Unfortunately for you your body tells you all you need to know. His cologne floods into your nostrils, you can't even reassure yourself and pretend it's anyone else, you know he's the only one who smells that strongly of fresh linen.

Being unable to see him doesn't stop you from imagining his dark lifeless eyes accompanying themselves with what is before them.

It doesn't even take Jean a minute to abandon you, he breaks out into an awkward smile, hurriedly pats your shoulder before dashing away, dispersing all the way to the other end of the hallway in a matter of seconds and turning the corner away from you.

Heart rate soaring you hesitantly spin on your heel. Levi's stood there, looking beyond unimpressed.

You intend to breeze past him, cool and collected. You take a step forward but God has never been one to bless you with luck, stumbling and tripping over thin air lands you flying.

Ready for impact you brace yourself but it never comes, instead solid hands are firmly placed at the small of your back steadying your position and your palms have unceremoniously landed atop his torso.

"Play along." Levi's voice is low and rumbling, and you can't look him in the eyes. Not out of fear or dread, more so exhaustion but you muster the energy to look to your left. There Erwin and Hange stand giggling to themselves like children. As quick as you spot them they vanish in the same fashion. It's as if they were never there.

You're worn out and fatigued wanting nothing more than a good night's rest. If there's one thing you haven't grown used to it's the lack of sleep.

"Let go." Moving to shift his hands away from your waist you halt your movements when he without warning lets go of you, not even giving you the opportunity to renovate your balance.

Flying to the ground and landing with a thud you rub your backside at the blow.

Mirthlessly chuckling the lack of amusement is clear in the way he composes himself.

Making a dash for it sounds tempting but you may as well let him have his way. There's no action you can take to avoid him reprimanding you. It's your fault for having the gall to make that crude and foul-mouthed comment in the first place.

You gulp comprehending the situation is even worse now since you really only said it for the sole reason of Kirstein's amusement.

"Y/N, I'd like to have a word with you."

Hesitantly you look up at Levi, he has an indecipherable expression on his face, it's been a while since you've last been left in his company alone.

The two of you are stood in his office, his desk is flooded with papers, they're haphazardly scattered all over the place and spikes of worry weirdly make them self present in your belly. This isn't right. He'd never leave his work space in this state.

"Are you okay?" You ask it because you’re sure he isn't.

His shoulders and spine stiffen. "Cut the crap and keep the formalities to yourself." He chides, most definitely defensive in his stance.

Without asking him you shuffle to his desk stacking the papers into organised piles, most of the documents are related to an up and coming expedition and it's all beginning to add up. Even humanities strongest soldier has moments where he cracks.

Then you notice your name on the formation plan but before you're able to make anything out of it Levi snatches it off his desk and away from you stuffing it into his pocket.

Without another sound he observes you cleaning the rest of the mess away but doesn't ask for you to stop. There's no reason for him to.

If you do this maybe he'll go easier on you, yeah that's what your motivation is. That's not exactly the truth, really you're just concerned about whatever has him worked up.

Placing the last document in its rightful place you want to give your mind a moment to recollect itself but Levi doesn't think the same.

He places his arms on either side of the desk, trapping you with no way out. Oddly, there's nothing threatening about him looking down at you this time, the greys and blues of his iris' captivate you.

"Do you enjoy making a mockery of your husband?" The question is whispered. It's unanticipated and the title of husband is uncharacteristic coming out of his mouth.

"It was just a joke." You mumble your answer under your breath.

"Would you have spouted that shit in front of the rest of the unit?"

Mildly shaking your head he then sighs. He’s not angry, he genuinely seems let down.

"Do you prefer him over me?” You swear you hear the faintest hint of self-doubt.

His questions are getting more out of the ordinary by the second and you’re waiting for him to crack a malevolent grin before he ridicules you like he always does.

“Of course I don’t prefer him over you.”

“Prove it.”

Tilting your head up towards him you have no idea what he wants for you to do or say, why does this suddenly even matter to him?

And then you imagine it happen, him digging his hands into your shoulders. Your weight along with his shifting up against the desk making it creak. Your mind details how he would kiss you agitatedly and you flush thinking about how you would feverishly return the favour.

It seems like your imagination predicts the future. He grips your jaw with his hand, his touch isn’t firm and for once it’s quite soft. Relishing in the new experience as he leans in you secure your eyes shut in expectation.

Stroking your cheek with his thumb the warm sensation that courses through your body is rather pleasant. His hands come out to run against your body, pinching the sides of your waist. The motion makes your heart stall for a second. Involuntarily, you find yourself leaning into him.

“This seem like a man who hasn’t felt the touch of a woman before?”

And just like that he leaves you hanging. You flutter your eyes open and there he is. He’s back, the same cynical man, smirk etched onto his features, his body still parallel to yours.

You find yourself enraged at how he's just lead and dragged you on, you should have stuck with your gut feeling and not given into temptation but you know what they say, curiosity killed the cat. It's very obvious who the cat is in this situation.

Brows furrowing you can’t face him ever again after the scalding embarrassment inhabits your abdomen.

"Going to cry, Cadet?" He's pushing all your buttons, eagerly choosing to provoke you.

The frustration you’ve been feeling fills you to the brim and you clamp down on your bottom lip. If you must turn to inflicting harm onto yourself just to muffle the sound of your whimpers you will.

“Did you need to do that?” You choke out your response feeling helpless, still not looking at him.

“Simply gave you a taste of your own medicine.”

Silence.

"Sometimes I wish you killed me back then."

Silver eyes become dark and he visibly flinches at your confession.

Still boxed in-between his arms you attempt to push past but he continues to obstruct the exit. He's not done yet.

"I gave you another chance at life." His blunt one-sided view is about to drive you crazy.

"Within my first day at this unit I had to avoid being attacked by another cadet in the forest if you call that a life I do-"

“Who?”

“Not important."

“If you know what's good for you, you'll spit it out."

For the sole purpose of irking him you heavily shake your head to emphasise your refusal to give in and name the culprit. It's not like you want Reiner to fall into trouble because of you. He hasn't shown any suspicious or out of the ordinary behaviour since then and you worry what Levi is capable of doing when given a reason to hurt someone.

Glancing at him dismissively you try to make your point again. "They haven't done anything since. Therefore, it's of no importance."

Conflicted emotions scurry over his face as he looks at you.

"It's of importance if my wif-" He growls and stops midway. His hands grip onto the desk even harder, knuckles turning white.

Was he about to say, wife?

Levi immediately realizes what he's nearly just said sounds exceedingly questionable. A look of uncertainty flashes over his face and then it seems he loses all regard for self-control. His willpower isn't enough to get him through this situation and he only amplifies.

Encroaching further into the very little space amongst the both of you his tone is icy. "Tell me." He's glowering and for Reiner's wellbeing you decide you should just come out with it now. He'll be in an even more difficult spot if you don't.

"Reiner, it was Reiner." You gasp out the answer, shallow breath ragged. Head turning away to the side you're not particularly sure why you're so shaky and why you feel a tremor flood past you inundating your movement. It may all be a combination of how close he's standing to you and how intoxicatingly strong his aura is.

Or, perhaps it's due to how he nearly referred to you as his wife during his primal outburst of anger.

He turns away. Automatically creating yet another blockade between the two of you.

"You're dismissed."

#levi #levi ackerman #aot #snk #attack on titan levi #attack on titan #levi x y/n #levi x reader #aot fanfiction #aot headcanons #duke levi #levi smut #levi angst #levi fluff #levi fanfiction #leviiattacks

96 notes · View notes

ricinbach · 3 years

Text

howlin’ for you. | chapter 2 - who was trapped

the ticket to freedom brings nothing but confinement.

New York City.

What the regular humans, Mundies as they taught you to call them, deem the most beautiful and vibrant city in the entire world. The city that never slept, and most likely never will. Out of all places to exile yourself, this had to be the one in dreams - with the flickering neon lights, bright and worn-down medley of advertisements and signs, the constant smell of grease mixed in with cigarettes - all enhanced by the vapor emanating from the sewer lids embedded in cracked asphalt.

All those years ago, when your kin decided to break all hell loose in the Homelands and eventually relocate, it was the general consensus amongst Fables that a fresh start in an urban city would be the most viable option. Starting out with a clean slate, the idea of commencing anew appealing so much to so many who have lost money, family and pride. Settling into a city that could seemingly offer so much, blending in with the rest of the human population did not seem to be that hard of a task to accomplish back then.

The Homelands had been old and full of major drama - moving to designated apartment blocks close to one of the world’s biggest metropolitan hubs surely could not be that bad of an idea.

Could it?

Well, to you, it seemed like as long as there were Fables involved, with them living in close proximity to each other if not neighboring, there was bound to be some sort of ruckus starting - no matter the location, yet it was of course an added ingredient to the recipe of chaos.

It was as if this secluded part of Brooklyn, its atrocities and “marvels” magically hidden in plain sight from the mundane eyes, attracted all sorts of trouble like a damn magnet. At every single corner and crevice of these streets there was some Fable getting their first sexual release for the night or some others looking for a quick fight with their rivals older than time itself.

The latter never seemed to end well for anyone involved and around, once the rumored Big Bad Wolf intervened into the scene.

Yet, it was hard for you to know for sure other than echo the gossip around since he did not frequent this part of town - it was a long-lived wonder of yours whether he got tired at all, running all around this cursed town as the only source of visible authority and enforcement.

He was a beast walking amongst men, after all. That much you had seen for your own bare eyes back in the Homelands. There was a reason why everyone thought twice before crossing him, or attempting something borderline illegal by his terms. A visit from him meant trouble and you had succeeded in your attempts of keeping a low profile, thus far.

Maybe you would get an answer to your worries and wonders that particular night - by the looks of how it was unfolding, it could very well end in either you crawling to the Fabletown office for his help or your quick and inevitable demise in that forsaken club.

The little polaroid in front that seemed to send shivers of disgust along with fear down your entire body was the one to blame.

There was a lot of messed up shit happening in Fabletown, and you had seen your fair share of it, both when hooking and living. Out of everything, this had to be the most fucked up you had the pleasure of witnessing. Oh, how you wished you had not, as you kept on staring at the scene it depicted in utter disbelief, eyes wide and hand over mouth. The more you stared at it, the more you wanted to storm out of there and run the farthest away your legs took you.

“How the hell did you guys get this?”

“That’s not important,” she had simply stated, the traces of disgust mixed in with some sort of hope evident in her dark green orbs as she glanced at you. “This is our one-way ticket out of this hellhole.”

The dimmed lightbulbs of the worn makeup mirrors seemed to focus all their everlasting glow onto the photograph in question, the weight of the conversation at hand naturally muffling the usual bumping of the raunchy bass coming from the main room as you holed up near the closets. Taking your eyes off focus for just a split second to calm your heartbeat down, through the smoky reflection, your eyes would spot the clock just ten short of hitting midnight.

For fuck’s sake, it was supposed to be the beginning of your pole time that night, but you had absolutely no confidence on your feet to carry you in six-inch platforms after what you had just seen.

“Well, we found it back in the motel. You think we could use it against him?” a feminine voice would interject from over your shoulder, her tone sounding equally as confused if not more. The faint breeze carried her scent as she approached - a seductive musk mixed in with oud that you could swear only Faith wore. A side glance would confirm her identity to you - Nerissa, with her white halter dress tightened up around her figure, her pink ribbon identical to yours. Hazel eyes looking ever so soft - worried, more like, as her gaze switched back and forth between Faith and the picture she was holding onto so firmly.

Having half a mind into what Faith had been thinking, even the thought of planning it scared you to your core. “That's exactly what we could do,” your lips would softly echo their thoughts, almost in a fading whisper, teeth gently biting down your lower lip in thought. “This right here is proof that even Fabletown’s finest are sick fucks.”

“That’s right,” Faith added, her rose-colored lip curling just a tad bit upwards, stepping around the room pensively as her heels clicked in a methodical rhythm. “Word gets out, no, better yet - ” she halted gently in her step, holding the picture up to the both of you as if to emphasize her point, “ - this damn thing gets out, Georgie’s fucking toast.”

A feeling of great unease lulled you in, engulfing your nerves, the faint hints of music outside the door echoing off. Something was not right. No, this was just too good to be true.

How many times had you tried to escape? To just tear that ribbon apart and not give a damn about the consequences? Begged and pleaded the owner, tried to conspire with the girls? True, now you had actual solid evidence that could get you out of there unlike all the other futile attempts - yet would it work for sure?

That was when you saw it. It took you a bit of time to connect the dots in your mind after the initial shock of seeing the explicit picture had worn off just enough - you were not sure if you were glad you could make better sense of this because apparently the deeper you tried to dive in, the uglier it got.

“Wait a minute,” you thought out loud, eyebrows furrowing. “Isn’t he a regular of - ”

“Now, now,” came the accented, dreary voice that froze you in your place and hung your words dry in your throat, “ - why the fuck is the pole empty?”

It was like someone had shot you. Not that you were entirely sure how that would feel like, or how much it would pain you to have lead lodged inside you if it did at all, but this cold and terrifying feeling that washed all over your body had to feel damn near close.

Time was bent, all three girls frozen and staring at the floor as the door creaked open while it let him in, along with the sudden burst of raunchy beats that filled the small powder room instantly. In the heat of the moment, Faith had proved to be the cunning lady she was known to be as she had managed to tuck the photo somewhere in her skirt - it was nowhere to be seen, and you certainly hoped the bastard had not taken a glimpse at what you three where hiding. She would sneak a side-eye glance at you, ready for the wrath that was to be delivered by the devil’s incarnate.

His heavy footsteps filled in the room yet stopped midway, the low eyes fixating on you - you could almost feel the fiery daggers burning into your skin from his daunting stare. Heart almost skipping out of your chest, you dared look up to meet his eyes.

“I don’t fuckin’ keep you so you can gossip with your friends in the fuckin’ dressing room, do I?” came Georgie’s mad hiss, the words spat out of his mouth as he tugged onto your wrist, dragging you on his way out of the door and into the club - into the purple and pink, crowds of nearly naked men and women with no modestly left to show, and the gleaming pole.

“C’mon, let’s fuckin’ go.”

A little wash of relief descending over you, your eyes would catch your friend’s pairs in a small, reassuring wink over your bare shoulder as you stepped out from the doorway and into the madness.

Luck, whatever that was at that point in your life, seemed to be on your side - if you had managed to hide this just a little bit longer from him, something inside you believed. Believed you would all become free from this prison, if you played your cards just right.

Yet it also told you that things could go so wrong, oh so wrong - after just one small mistake.

#bigby wolf #howlin for you #bigby wolf x reader #bigby wolf x you #twau #the wolf among us #telltale games

54 notes · View notes

ffangirlingsince2001 · 4 years

Text

End of the Tunnel: IV

George Weasley x Reader

Description: It’s almost been a year since Freed Weasley was lost to the Battle of Hogwarts, and for George Weasley it might as well be an eternity. He is lost in the dark, no color to be found. Until suddenly there might be a light at the end of the tunnel.

Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING, mentions of suicide, cutting, language, angst!!!! (I’m very serious if this messes with your mind DO NOT READ).

MASTERLIST

***

Hannah had been living with him for three weeks. And what a three weeks it had been. There was never a dull moment living with George Weasley. One night she had shown up to a water gun fight and the next a candlelit dinner he had cooked almost entirely on his own (Hermione had been a bit of help where magic failed). He helped her clean after work whenever the shop didn’t keep him late. He held her until morning as they curled beneath the sheets of his drafty apartment, never hesitating to grab another one of his mother’s knitted blankets when she even so much as shivered. He was loving and kind and sweet. He laughed at her stories and even added a few tales from school of his own. He was never impatient when she struggled to understand some wizarding device she had not yet encountered (“It’s a bird of prey!”). Honestly, it had been the best three weeks of her life.

Everything seemed to be perfect until she was returning to his apartment one late night. The town drunk had refused to leave, escalating to a fight with one of her waiters, drawing in cops and a medic for the cuts and bruises left by shards of glass. When she pushed her key into the lock, she immediately knew something was wrong. Nothing was out of place and there was nothing profoundly disturbing, but the air hung like tragedy was waiting to strike.

“George,” she called into the house, jumping as her voice contrasted the heavy silence of the room. “George,” she called again, gently stepping towards the slightly ajar bathroom door. She stretched her hand forward and pushed it open, unable to stop the blood-curdling scream the escaped her throat when she found what was inside.

He was sitting in the bathtub with hair askew and a bottle of firewhiskey, mostly gone, resting in his hand. But that wasn’t what worried her, it was the thin cuts that traipsed up his arm like a morbid train track.

She was on her knees in a second, crouching over him as she sobbed.

“George, George, look at me,” she sobbed, and he glanced at her, tears mixing with the streak of blood across his cheek. He seemed so lost and afraid.

“I thought you weren’t coming back,” he whispered, and she shook her head, grabbing bandages and climbing into the bathtub as she cried. She straddled his waist and pulled him close. “You’re always home by midnight, but you didn’t come, I thought you weren’t coming back. I thought you were gone.” They both were sobbing now.

“No, I promised. I promised you I’d never leave, and I don’t break my promises,” she cried trying to bandage his wrists. He yanked them away to cover his face, but she held tight, tightly wrapping the gauze around the shallow cuts. They weren’t bleeding much, but every time she glanced at them her stomach churned, threatening to empty her rushed dinner from earlier in the evening. “George, look at me.” She placed a kiss to his forehead. “Please, I need you to look at me,” she cried and eventually, through the emotional turmoil he did so.

His eyes were red from the firewhiskey and puffy from the crying, face so full of sadness he looked like a child who had not received anything on a dreary Christmas morning. She ran his hands over his cheeks, softly wiping away the tears that had been shed.

“George, there was an accident at the bar, I had to stay a bit later to take care of it. I’m sorry,” she explained, and he nodded, tears still sliding down his cheeks. “Please, don’t ever do this to yourself,” she said ushering to his wrists, “You have to promise me, please George.” He halfheartedly nodded but she persisted. “George, I’m serious. I can’t lose you, not to something as terrible as this.” She was crying harder now, fingers pressing subconsciously into the fresh wounds.

“Hannah, I promise, I promise I won’t,” he told her, pulling her tight, sobering up with every second she remained within her presence. They didn’t move from the bathtub that night, holding one another until they fell asleep and woke up with cricks in their backs.

While the three weeks before that had been the best weeks of her life, that day had been the worst, far worse than anything the death eaters had managed to inflict upon her psyche. When they had woken up she had made him promise one more time.

That must have been why when she returned to the house in the middle of the day two weeks later she had been hysterics.

Just like that night she had opened the door, and this time there was no heavy tension in the air, only his body on the kitchen floor.

She heard screaming, harsh and shrill against the silence, and it wasn’t until it was filled with crying that she realized it was hers. It was her scream echoing against linoleum, shaking the dishes and rattling the silverware as she fell to his side. His name never left her lips as she shook his shoulder, praying to whatever god that would listen. She prayed he would wake up and that the blood would return to the two long cuts up either arm. It was a sea of blood, staining the grout and her nails as she tried to pull him into her arms. God it was everywhere, spread across the floor like the cruel slaughter it was. She didn’t want to look at it, but it was impossible to look away. It coated her hands and her arms, staining her blouse all the way down to her shoes. No one should have that much blood, it seemed impossible for someone to have so much. It seemed impossible that it was his, spread across the floor. It just couldn’t be possible, not him, not now, not when he had fucking promised. He had said he wouldn’t do it, he had fucking promised. He just kept slipping back to the tile, cold, heavy… lifeless. It was a wonder none of the neighbors came as she screamed for help, the silencing charms he had once placed on their home should have been nonexistent against the wails of despair that slipped from her lips until her throat ached.

“Wake up! Wake up! Please, I’m fucking begging you wake up!” she screamed until she was hoarse.

It seemed no one would come, no one would help her pick up the pieces that were spread across the floor like a cruel joke. The world was playing a cruel joke on her, by ending when everything had just been beginning. It wasn’t fair, there had to be a way, there just had to. He was a wizard god damn it.

And then suddenly she felt familiar arms wrap around her, holding her tight as she cried. At first she was sure it was just her imagination, until she managed to hear her name through her own cries.

“Hannah,” it called and she turned to find him standing there. She blinked, rubbing away the tears, pressing her hands to his face, just to ensure that it was actually him. He felt there and the way his breath brushed her cheek felt real. She glanced behind her, and the body was still there but it looked different somehow. The alive George pushed her behind him and pulled out his wand, pointing it at the dead version of himself and the body turned to a ball of energy before being banished the a trunk that shook with vigor once it was locked tight. “Hannah, it’s okay, look at me, it’s not real.” She looked down and the blood was gone. It was just her on the floor with George holding her.

“What, I, I don’t.”

“It was a boggart,” he consoled, wiping away her tears.

“A- a what?”

“It shows you your biggest fear. Nasty creatures, I can’t believe we have one this far out of the wizarding world.”

“Oh,” she whispered, turning towards where he had once lain., “I’m glad that’s all.” And with a sudden zeal she pulled him tight against her, breathing deeply what she had thought she had lost only moments ago. He offered her a weary smile and she returned with one of her own.

“I’ll take care of it tomorrow with Ron, but now you should get some sleep.” It felt like hours since she had found the figment of his body, but the sun was still high above them.

“I have to go to work,” she protested but he shook his head.

“No, you don’t. Call someone in, you’re exhausted,” he said, noting the way her shoulders stooped over when he released her. She nodded and he carried her to bed, climbing in beside her. Her arms wrapped around him tighter than they ever had.

That night he waited until she was asleep before sweeping through the kitchen in search of every knife in the place. He bagged them all, doing his best to not let them rattle against each other, and then he chucked them into the bin outside their home. The kitchen was clear of her fears and with a nod he climbed back into bed, if they really needed them he was sure Ron wouldn’t be opposed.

#george weasley imagine #george weasley x reader #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley #george weasley smut #george weasley angst #george weasley x reader smut #george weasley x reader angst #george weasley x reader fluff #george weasley x reader fanfiction #end of the tunnel

71 notes · View notes

mypassionsarenysins · 4 years

Text

Not Yours, But His.

Sam Wilson x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader (One Sided)

Author’s Note: Just something I’d been rattling in my brain.

When Steve Rogers married Sharon Carter he imagined he would eventually be happy, that it was what he needed in his life.

Why had he ask Sharon to marry him?

Steve liked Sharon, don’t get him wrong, but in the core of the marriage it was the pressure.

The pressure that he was old and he needed a companion.

Steve thought he was in love with Peggy, he later realized that it was just a deep infatuation that went away as he settled in the future.

Then he met Sharon and in his desperation and the fear of being alone he gave her his life, and now he regrets it deeply.

It all started when on a Saturday night he had the boys over.

Bucky was talking about how good his relationship with Nat was going and then he heard the name that would be haunting Steve forever.

“I have a girl now,” Sam says as he looks dreamy.

“Makes sense,” Bucky brushes it off.

“What you mean metal man” Sam throws him an angry look while Steve just smiles at his two idiots.

“It’s that stupid face you’ve had for the past couple of months,” Bucky laughs an throws a pillow at his face.

As the start throwing pillows Steve intervenes.

“Okay okay, what’s her name?” Steve asks as Bucky sticks his tounge out.

Sam smiles and sighs.

“Her name is (Y/N), and she’s honestly the best thing thats ever happened to me.

“Well I’m happy for you,” Bucky says as he hugs Sam and they start fighting again.

After that day Steve didn’t make a big deal about Sam’s girlfriend thinking it was just a casual thing, but oh was Steve wrong.

It was Sam’s birthday a couple of months after Sam talked about you and Steve and Sharon where invited to a dinner celebrating the falcon.

It was in a nice upscale restaurant they usually went on special occasions.

The day had been ruined since they got into a big argument that had been happening for a whole year.

Steve wanted kids, Sharon didn’t.

It wasn’t working, Steve should’ve waited for that person that was gonna fill his life, that was going to make him whole.

He was trapped in a hopeless marriage that he didn’t want to keep, still feeling trapped as America’s golden boy the last thing he wanted was to leave his wife, hurt her in any way.

And then he met her.

The girl Sam wouldn’t stop talking about and now he knew why.

He felt like his life was interrupted by a shocking woman walking in with her arm around one of his best friends.

She interrupted his life with her amazing beauty and then he looked at her eyes, so sure, so beautiful, like she was looking through him.

You looked so happy in his arms and Steve wondered, for a brief moment, if you were happy with him or pretending like he was pretending with Sharon.

Then you leaned and kissed him softly smiling at him, and in that moment his heart broke and he didn’t even know it.

“Thank you all for coming,” Sam says loudly as he hugs his girl.

“And I specially want to thank (Y/N) for organizing all of this.” He says as he kisses you and you smile hiding in his neck.

He curses at the way your name slipped lovingly from Sam’s lips.

“We also have to make a special announcement,” you say as you extend your left hand and show your fourth finger decorated with a beautiful, yet simple diamond ring.

Steve’s eyes widen and the pit in his stomach overtakes his feeling confusing him completely.

He’s never met you before and yet here you are taking over every sense in his body making him desire things he’d never desired before.

He felt like he was playing a game pretending to live a life that did not belong to him.

He had everything people assumed he needed, a talented wife, a beautiful home, and a very successful career as the director of the Avengers.

And yet his life was sad and bland.

He had no real spark.

He wasn’t adventurous like Bucky or charming and outgoing like Sam.

He thought that quiet and establish was what he needed.

And now here he is looking at you and Sam on how in love you are.

You where loud and exuding a happiness that he would never know.

As people congratulate you, he and Sharon approach you and Sam.

“Congratulations guys, (Y/N) is really amazing Sam,” Sharon says as she hugs Steve keeping the facade.

“Don’t I know it,” Sam says as he looks at you softly and you smile pecking his lips.

You turn to Steve, “It’s nice to finally meet you Captain Rogers,” you say softly looking at him with a smile.

Steve’s whole body goes rigid dropping his hand from Sharon’s waist.

“It’s Steve and the pleasure is mine,” He says softly taking your much smaller hand into yours.

You smile at him and the only thing he wanted to do was keep your eyes on him when you turned to Sam and smirked at him.

“So, how have you been Sharon?” You ask Sharon and this surprises Steve.

“I’ve been good, you know missions can be tough, but we work them out,” Sharon says as she forces her hand into Steve’s.

“I didn’t know you knew Sharon,” Steve says rejecting Sharon’s wandering hand.

“That’s how we met,” Sam says with pride in his eyes as he winks at you and you giggle cuddling further in his arms.

“(Y/N) is the head of the International Affairs of SHIELD,” Sam says proudly making her hide her face.

“That’s great (Y/N),” Steve says with a small smile.

“It’s okay just talking a lot with foreign intelligence agencies,” You shrug as you turn and see Bucky and Nat arriving and you giggle at the sight of Bucky leaving Nat dramatically.

“We should go say hi,” you smile and turn to Sam to see him rolling his eyes at Bucky.

“Yeah, yeah, see you around guys,” Sam says as he takes your arm and you giggle about something about stealing Nat away from Bucky or something.

Steve just looks lost for a moment and Sharon clears her throat.

“Don’t even think about it, Steve.” Sharon says seriously as she starts to walk away.

Steve frowns and follows his wife.

“What are you talking about?” He questions sternly.

“You know, the way your eyes shined when you met her, don’t get any ideas?” Sharon says sternly.

“Why because she will make me happier than you,” Steve says angrily.

“No you arrogant man. Sam loves her, she loves Sam, they’ve helped each other.” Sharon says with tears in her eyes.

Steve just stands there in shock.

“I know you don’t really love me and it kills me because I did Steve, but this is not gonna work. You keep looking for some soulmate, for this magical person. First you thought it was Aunt Peggy, then you thought maybe Nat could bring you joy, and then you settled for me.” She says in tears.

“You keep living this fantasy that someone else is going to fulfill whatever hole you think you have, but it won’t.” Sharon says as she keeps her distance.

“But (Y/N), she’s such a Wonderfull human being, I love her, the team loves her, but mostly Sam loves her and she loves him. They’ve worked so hard to be this happy.” Sharon says as you wave at her and she starts walking away.

Steve just stands there and looks down at his left hand with the glistening gold band staring at him making his guilt and unhappiness of this situation.

Was Sharon right, was he just after a dream that might never come true.

“What’s up?” Bucky says scaring Steve who deeply lost in thought.

“Nothing,” Steve says seriously, looking down at the floor.

“Steve I think I know you better than that,” Bucky sighs.

“I just think that (Y/N) is beautiful,” Steve says with a sigh finally looking up at his friend.

“That she is, birdbrain is a lucky man.” Bucky says with a smile.

“I feel like she is the one Buck,” Steve sighs his eyes find you who are laughing at something Sam whispers on your ear.

“You don’t really mean that Steve, and even if that where the case she might be the one for you, but you are not the one for her.” Bucky says seriously.

“You don’t mean that,” Steve says with hurt in his voice.

“I mean it Steve. You don’t spend that much time with us anymore, you will always be my friend Steve, but Sam is my partner now and I know how hard he worked to get with (Y/N).” Bucky sighs as he looks at Steve.

“I love you Steve, but believe it or not I also love Sam. After you retired he got my back, and honestly I have his.” Bucky said seriously.

“You know she saved him.” Bucky says as he nods toward you and Sam.

“What you mean?” Steve asks with curiosity ion his voice.

“After the snap we weren’t the same, after Thanos, Steve it was bad. You went and retired, but Sam and I had to keep the world under control. Then comes this wonderful girl that bought light not only to his life, but mine also. She saved our life, helped me find the courage to get with Nat.” Bucky says as he smiles at the end of his little speech.

“I don’t know what to do Buck,” Steve says still looking at you.

“Let it go Steve, you always tend to make up these fantasies in your head that will change your life, sometimes it works like when you did with the army. But you gotta let her be happy with Sam.” Bucky says.

Bucky walks away and in that moment Steve feels heavy like his feet are glued to the floor.

In that moment his fantasies of you die and break like a glass.

“Hey man you okay?” Sam asks and Steve turns to see his friend with a concerned look.

“Yeah just getting over something,” Steve shrugs and smiles.

“You know I never thought she’d fall for someone like,” Sam says as he looks at you laughing with Nat and Buck.

“What you mean?” Steve asks questioning.

“When I met her she was such a bright shine in the middle of this dreary life, that I never thought that she’d look at me,” Sam responds his eyes still on you.

“I thought she’d end up with someone like you, someone more deserving than me,” Sam sighs finally looking over to Steve.

“But then she opened her heart to me, and wether I deserve it or not, she’s mine and I’m hers,” Sam says as he starts walking away.

“You know Sharon really loves you, maybe you guys should talk to a professional, you can be happy with her you know?” Sam asks and smiles walking back to you.

Steve thinks hard about what Sam just said.

He thought about how everyone struggles with love.

He looked at you and Sharon hugging and decided that maybe opening up to his wife would be the way to go, but in the very back of his mind the thought of you never left, and maybe it would never leave.

My Chaos Tag: @honeybucks @honeyvbarnes @stuckonjbbarnes @valkyriesryde @babiiface95 @mrwinterr @buckysmischief @mushyjellybeans @stateoflovinged @sunmoonandbucky @thinkoutsidethebex @poppunkdork @sleepingspacedragon

#sam wilson x reader #sam wilson #Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader

98 notes · View notes

justalonelywriter · 3 years

Note

Happy Birthday lonely(hopefully not for long) writer, you absolute queen, you quirky protagonist of a hero’s story. I know your birthday’s over so i guess I’m granting you late birthday wishes? I’d love to know 3, 4, 5 and 21 please

Thank you for the wish, bestie. (THOUGH YOU'RE LATE !!!!)

There's a something pretty in loneliness, I think. In my opinion, there's nothing quite as satisfactory as the company one provides themselves. I find myself quite content with solitude for the most part. (That isn't to say I don't appreciate my friends lol) I spent far too long trying to title myself as I reintroduced myself into fandom and in the end everything sounded awful, and hence this rather cliched and simplistic title. I've considered changing it, mind you. But I've gotten rather fond of LW. With that unnecessary tangent out of the way, let me get to your questions.

3. What is one of your favourite memories from school?

I don't have too many of those. School was really fun until it wasn't but one moment that sticks out was during a particularly raucous lunch break. The memory is a bit hazy in my recall, but it's filled with inside jokes, a scarf that looks too familiar to the one in Sherlock BBC, a gif of David Tennant in cat whiskers and one dreary attempt at writing Homestuck fanfiction. I couldn't for the life of me begin to explain how any of that was connected, but I remember the teachers had to come over to tell us to knock it off but we couldn't because we were laughing too hard and the world was too bright and we were impossibly happy.

I knew then what Stephan Chobosky meant when he wrote "And I swear in that moment, we were infinite." If I could bottle up that feeling, I would.

4. Do you have a bucket list? What are 3 things that are on it?

In a sense, I guess I do, in that abstract way where I have goals I'd like to achieve before my time runs out.

-Fanciful as the notion may be, I want to spend a few months in a small beach side town. I'm not quite sure where or when, but I'd very much like to pack my things and live by the sea.

-Go catch a show on Broadway. I never got a proper chance but I would've been a theatre kid. I know it in my bones. (I've only got some vague tech crew experience but I am going to change that)

-See some of my written work published one day, because of course I do. I've loved literature and novels and poetry far too much not to.

5. What book do you think has impacted you the most?

There are two which I hold dearest to my heart; Pride and Prejudice and The Hunger Games. Both are vastly different but the stories resonated with younger me in a way I don't quite know how to put into words. I've reread both a numerous amount of times and I still go back and read them (almost) every year.

Most people would assume my answer would be Harry Potter and though the books are magical in their own right, I've been more invested and impacted by the community that resulted from the books rather than the book itself if that makes sense. Like I adore the series, obviously I do, but it's not the same. I'd put it on a tier alongside Little Women and probably Good Omens.

21. Do you listen to music as you write? Drop the playlist.

Any and all lofi music generally though I'm particularly fond of this playlist. I stick with classical music for the most part (and this one if I'm feeling a bit moodier) For ASWG I have a long playlist that I've painstakingly assembled. I'd share it, but I think it would make sense after the story has been posted in it's entirety.

And with that, I'll be closing the birthday asks. Thank you everyone for indulging me!

#eggspeliarmus #justalonelywriter #you ask i answer #ask games #each ask is a birthday wish #thank you everyone

3 notes · View notes

themissinghippogriff · 4 years

Text

|With Marshmallows | Remus x Werewolf Reader

Description: SOOO this was supposed to be just a regular imagine but then it turned into one with smut- BUT it’s optional! Remus and Reader find comfort in each other as they deal with their curse.

Word Count: 2.3k +

Glancing at herself in the mirror (Y/N) smiled before leaning closer to the glass in order to make a perfect wing of eyeliner. (Y/N) moved to the other eye and scowled when her hand shook, making the wing sloppy. With a shrug she reached for her wand and flicked it, fixing the wing.

She was planning to go out to a bar tonight, maybe pick up a ‘friend’ to spend the night with because in a few days she wouldn’t be able to have that sort of fun.

She was currently staying in Grimmauld Place with Sirius while working for the Order. (Y/N) had managed to clean up the dreary house with a little magic, much to Kreacher’s dismay. Sirius had said she could do whatever she liked with the room she was staying in, so she tore down the forest green wallpaper, painted the walls a deep blue, polished the dark wooden floors, and brightened up the room with white curtains.

(Y/N) spent her days at Grimmauld with Sirius and Remus when he would stop by. She had managed to hook up the TV from her flat, and Sirius and she could be found in front of it sharing a bowl of popcorn. She thought he should catch up on what he had missed. They watched Back to the Future, The Breakfast Club, and other newer classics.

(Y/N) had developed a friendship with the older man, they would stay up drinking, talking, laughing, but he would succumb to a more depressed state of mind some days. So she left him alone.

But she really enjoyed when Remus came to the house. He was an intellectual and she enjoyed discussing numerous topics with him. She was drawn to his gentle and bashful nature, but there was also the fact he was a werewolf as well.

They didn’t really talk about it, only offering each other an understanding nod after the full moon when they both looked and felt like shit.

Unlike Remus, she was still new to the experience, only having been bit a year prior.

(Y/N) grabbed a short satin dress from her closet and admired the dark purple color of it. She ran a manicured hand over the silky texture and felt her heart become heavy, she missed being normal.

With a sigh, she grabbed her strappy heels that she made the same color as the dress and put them on. When she was done she admired herself in the mirror but stopped when she noticed scars peeking out from all over.

She would not cry, she told herself, she wouldn’t cry. (Y/N) refused to feel sorry for herself.

With a lump in her throat, she grabbed her wand and concealed them, it was a hand spell she had picked up while a teenager. It was a way to cover acne scars but unfortunately, these scars were darker and deeper and needed to be touched up with concealer to make them look invisible.

She made her way downstairs and into the kitchen where she found Remus and Sirius sharing a drink. Sirius whistled lowly when she walked in, causing Remus to turn around and look at her, “ You going out tonight, love?” Sirius asked with a smirk.

(Y/N) shook your head, “ No, I’m dressed like this to go do laundry,” she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm causing the ebony-haired man to laugh.

Remus’s eyes raked over her but quickly looked away and cleared his throat, “ Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asked.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes as she poured firewhiskey into a glass, “ Well as you know Remus, I won’t be able to get any action for a week or two in a few days,”

Sirius sensed the tension in the room and mumbled something about having to feed Buckbeak, quickly, he chugged his drink and made his way upstairs, leaving the two werewolves alone.

“ I just mean that with the moon being so soon you might be overcome with any form of emotion,”

She snorted before taking a shot, “ I might be still a little new to this Remus but I know that much, it’ll be fine,”

He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms, his green eyes filled with concern, “ Like it was last time?”

(Y/N) froze and set her glass down, last time. The last time she had done something like this so close to the moon she had gotten into a bar fight with some sleazy guy who had tried to feel her up. (Y/N) had grabbed a bottle of whiskey and broke it over his head, she didn’t know who far she would have gone if it hadn’t been for the bartender holding her back.

“ I will not let this fucking curse take anymore from me, Remus,” she spat, “ I’m in my twenties, I’m supposed to be doing these kinds of things, I’m supposed to be living my life to the fullest, but instead…” she trailed off, not wanting to overshare.

Remus said nothing but walked over to her and enveloped her in a hug, “ I know, and you inspire me (Y/N), you’re much stronger than I could ever be,”

A sob ripped itself from her throat as she let herself melt into the warm embrace. He smelled like chocolate, coffee, and fresh parchment. (Y/N) let herself drown in the purely Remus scent and cried, not caring if her eye makeup was fucked, and allowing herself for once to feel sorry for herself.

“ It f-fucking su-sucks, Remus!” she wailed, gripping onto his sweater like her life depended on it.

It rubbed circles into her bareback, “ I know, darling,” he whispered, “ Why don’t you stay home and I can make us both some hot chocolate, hm?”

She nodded, “ With marshmallows?” she sniffed, looking up at him, her chin resting on his chest. He looked down and gave her a crooked smile, “ With marshmallows,”

Remus brought two mugs of hot chocolate into the library where (Y/N) sat, still in her purple dress and black streaks on her cheeks.

She reached out for a mug and placed it on the end table beside the leather sofa she sat on.

“ Aren’t you cold?” he asked, setting his own mug down beside hers.

She nodded, “ Yes, I just really don’t feel like changing,”

He shook his head before pulling off his sweater to reveal a clean white button-down, “ Here, “ he said.

She took it, glancing up at him with wide eyes as if to ask him if he was sure before she put it on, “ Thank you, Remus,” she said softly. (Y/N) patted the spot next to her and Remus sat down.

“ How have you managed?” she asked, “ I mean you’ve been dealing with this all your life, I can’t even begin to imagine the transformations without a potion,”

He smiled slightly, “ I can honestly say if it weren’t for my friends and family… I would have given up a long time ago,”

She knew what he meant by giving up, and unfortunately, she had the same problem. After she had been bit she distanced herself from her family and friends, allowing the upcoming war to consume her thoughts and actions.

“ I don’t even know why I keep going,” she whispered, so quietly he could barely hear her.

Slowly, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, allowing her to shrug it off if she desired, but she leaned into him.

“ Remus?” she said looking up at him, her (Y/E/C) meeting his green ones.

“ Hm,” he asked, his eyes looking from her lips to her eyes.

(Y/N) caught his lips in a deep kiss, her manicured hand coming up to cup his rough jaw. She moved onto his lap, straddling him.

Remus pulled back, a hand going to her cheek, “ (Y/N)... I don’t think this is a good idea,”

(Y/N) brushed his jaw with her thumb, “ I like you, Remus, I’m not just trying to get you into bed- I genuinely like you, and tonight only confirmed how I feel about you,”

He shook his head, “ Even so, I’m too old for you, and you deserve someone young, handsome, and able to provide a normal life for you,”

She laughed, “ Remus have you forgotten you and I can never have a ‘normal’ life; I’m not asking for you to marry me, I’m asking you to keep living with me,”

{SMUT}

A second later Remus had made a decision and allowed his primal instincts to take over. He gripped her hips and pushed her closer to him before attacking her neck with open-mouthed kisses and occasionally biting the sensitive spot on her neck, eliciting gasps and breathy moans from her.

Encouraged, Remus slid a calloused hand up her dress and massaged the inner part of her thigh. (Y/N) pulled the sandy-haired man’s sweater over her head and guided his hand to the zipper that was located in the back.

His lust-filled eyes bore into hers, “ Are you sure, love?” he breathed.

She only nodded and attacked his lips once more, licking his swollen bottom lip, asking for permission to enter. He opened his mouth eagerly, allowing her to dominate him, but only for a minute.

Slowly. He pulled the zipper down as she grinded against him, urging him to move faster, but he didn’t. Allowing the anticipation of what was to happen next to heighten her arousal as well as his own.

She pulled away from him and smirked. (Y/N) stood before him and gradually pulled the straps of her dress down her shoulders. Her eyes flickered to his, his usual soft eyes were unyielding and almost looked black due to his pupils dilating.

Her heart began to hammer against her chest and she allowed her dress to fall to her feet, and there she stood clad in only a scrap of lace that was a poor excuse of underwear.

Remus’s eyes went from her breasts to her panties. He stood and hooked a finger around the waistband of her panties, pulling her toward him.

Before she could register what was happening he picked her up and laid her on the rug, yanking her panties off her legs and diving into her heat, placing her legs over his shoulders.

A surprised gasp left her lips as his tongue swirled over her clit before he took it into his mouth and began sucking and then plunging two thick fingers into her dripping cunt.

(Y/N)’s back arched and her hands went to her breasts, playing with the hardened peaks while Remus ate her out, “ R-Remus,” she panted.

He lifted his head from between her legs but didn’t cease fingering her, “ Yes, love?” he said, his voice dripping with honey, curling his fingers and smirking when she whimpered.

“ I w-want to see you,”

He raised his eyebrows before untangling himself from her legs, he had planned on undressing himself but (Y/N) had other plans. She sprang up and grabbed the buttoned hem of his shirt and ripped it open. Buttons flew everywhere, making tapping sounds as they hit the floor.

She yanked the shirt off his toned arms and quickly moved to his belt. With quick movements, she managed to rid him of his pants, but before she could take his large member out of his briefs he was back on top of her, grinding his clothed cock against her swollen clit.

The two groaned at the sensation rolling their hips in time with one another. (Y/N) dug her nails into the man’s back, “ Remus, quit playing with me,” she growled before tugging on his ear with her teeth. Remus felt his eyes roll to the back of his head, he could only imagine what it would be like to be inside her.

Finally, he sat up and pushed his briefs down, allowing his large cock to spring forward. (Y/N)’s eyes widened, “ Holy shit,” she muttered.

Remus chuckled, “ Surprised?”

She nodded her head slightly, “ I mean, you’re really packing huh?” she laughed.

Remus shook his head before pressing a rough kiss to her lips, the kiss turned into a gasp as he filled her tight pussy with his large cock. She tightened around him, “ Oh fuck Remus,” she whined.

The man in question resisted the urge to move, wanting her to get used to his length, but Merlin, she felt wonderful.

“ You can go,” she breathed, running a hand over his scarred chest, “ And please Rem, don’t hold back,”

That was all he needed. He drew back before slamming himself back into her. Something between a moan and scream left her mouth, she couldn’t handle it, it was too much, but God she wanted it.

“ Faster!” she panted, her nails leaving crescents in his back.

Remus’s hips snapped back and forth at a vigorous pace, making (Y/N) practically squeal his name. His curved shaft rubbed against places she didn’t even know existed, and each stroke left her out of breath and wanting more. No man had ever made her feel anywhere near this.

It felt too good.

(Y/N) felt tears leaking from her eyes as her lips formed an O-shape, “ R-Remus,” she gasped, “ I’m going to cum,”

This only made Remus go faster. She said his name like a mantra as she felt that knot began to tighten, her legs shook, and her back arched.

Remus groaned at the feeling of her walls tightening around his member, he sank down next to her ear, “ Come for me, (Y/N), “ he grounded out.

Finally, that knot tightened to the point it broke, a wanton scream left her mouth and Remus followed after her, not being able to handle the feeling of her walls contracting around him.

Remus moaned in her ear and then released inside her, burying his head in the crook of her neck, leaving sloppy kisses from there to her cheek.

A shaky breath left her as she unwrapped her shaking legs from around Remus, “ Holy shit,” she breathed.

She felt Remus nod against her, “ I agree,”

He picked himself up and pressed a soft kiss to her lips, “ Let get ourselves cleaned up, shall we?”

#remus x reader #old remus x reader #remus lupin x reader #werewolf reader #old remus lupin x reader #smut #fluff #remus smut #remus lupin x reader smut

277 notes · View notes

dinrenan · 3 years

Text

Dinrenan Origin

It took me ages to finish it all together, I had to rewrite it because the file on my computer got corrupted or something! Go and restart, then it did not save. So I opted to write on my phone and send it all to my discord server where I keep all my stuff, texts included, ported it to Drive and tadah! here you have it!

WARNING! This chapter contains: Mental torture (implied), physical torture (implied), mention of torture and blood, cannibalism, child poisoning and death. And Bad english grammar in some parts.

Sylaise had many children, but none of them survived, no matter how hard she tried to keep them alive. Until one did, a daughter, this one survived longer than any of her children and reached the age of 6 before passing out due to poisoning, the goddess found out pretty soon who it was, Hellathren, the child's slave and keeper while the Goddess had duties to attend to. The girl died in her sleep and Sylaise was devastated, no matter how much she tried to reach for the weakening spirit still inside her body. In desperation she went to the one who could help her, Falon'din, who did not know of the girl's existence, nor did the other Evanuris, they just assumed that the last child was dead, like the others. But this one had been the child she and June always wished for, and they tried many times to make any of them live enough after their first breath, and when this one made it, it was taken from them. Falon'din agreed to help the Goddess out, but made no promises of his success; he also needed to confront Ghilan'nain and his brother, Dirthamen, if he wanted to succeed. The young Goddess accepted to help, although not knowing for what she agreed to, and gave Dirthamen the knowledge he needed. Dirthamen on his part modified that knowledge, for it had flaws, and made it perfect if applied in the right way, if not the child would turn into something like one of Ghilan'nain's new experimental creatures, a beast with horns and grey skin, good only to fight like a rabid beast and nothing else.

Sylaise wanted to join the other Gods in this ritual while June simply mourned the loss by locking himself in the chamber they both shared, but the woman wasn't going to give up on either her Husband or child, there was still something that could be done and when Falon'din asked for blood, she gave it. She gave the traitorous woman who poisoned her daughter to Falon'din, for she had to live till the day of the ritual, then came the blood of her High Dragon Guardian, its unhatched eggs, and a vial containing her own blood. Falon'din chose the location, an underground temple he used to his own pleasure, few loyal slaves were permitted to stay there but mostly spirits roamed its dark and dreary walls.

When the time came only Falon'din was in the chamber, the high dragon throat was slit open to permit the blood to flow in the little canals carved on the floor and slide in the well, previously filled by a fountain figuring an owl, that was now empty of the stone structure and the child's body lay limp on the tiles. He had fun carving his markings on Sylaise traitorous slave, the blood still pouring from them was steadily forming streams in the canals and mixing with the High Dragon's Blood, filling up the empty space at the center, reaching the corpse.

He could feel the power held in the blood, and how it sought to enter the child's body, an empty shell perfect to host it and flow again, live again, it needed a spell to adjust itself and Falon’din was working on it when something started to go wrong. The Dragon's body began to spasm violently when the child's body got fully enveloped by the blood and the beast’s heart came out from its throat like it had regurgitated it from its place. The heart was big and pulsating, Falon'din lost his focus on the well and the spell broke loose, making the God hit the nearest wall, it was a moment before it all happened. The child's body began floating in the air, at the center of the pool, the heart was shrinking and reshaping itself while where once the High Dragon's and Slave's body laid, only a pile of bones could be seen now. The eggs that were placed on a corner started to explode, masses of blood, meat and scales flew towards the heart, now shrunk to a chest sized living organ, and with a stupor the God saw as all those materials started to mold over together and create a round shape, an orb. A blinding light had him covering his eyes, his ears could hear the screams of agony coming from the girl, he didn't move an inch, fearing that the sentient being, whatever it was, would strike him. And strike him it did, a stream of blood resembling a hand reached for him while he was still blind due to the light but heard the air moving, he reacted and tried to defend himself, only to be cut in the process, that did the trick, a thick line of blood got absorbed by the shaped blood claws and it all disappeared, like a spirit who lost its interest in him.

With slow movements, he rose up, dusted his clothes and advanced toward the Well. It was now void of blood and the orb was nowhere to be seen but the child was there, sitting on the floor and fixing him down with void glassy eyes, they were violet mixed with blue gems filled with nothing but despair in them. He swore he could feel his heart feel something resembling fascination, his brother and him were always curious after all. Some sentinels felt the blast and came bursting through the door to make sure nothing was attacking their lord, when they noticed the girl they all fell silent, for they could feel their Master magic radiating from her.

"Take her, my part is done" He decided to ignore the little pang his heart did but noticed the sentinels didn't move an inch when the girl simply turned towards them, staring at them this time, and with a scoff, Falon'din used his magic to make the girl float out of her 'nest' and right in front of the sentinels, they refused still to lay a hand on the girl, his temper wasn't known to last long, especially not after something came after his blood.

"Did I stutter?" He was now getting angry, he gave a simple order, were these loyal sentinels of his gone dead? He just marched towards them, took the girl in his arms, and walked off, if they weren't going to obey simple orders, he was going to do it himself. The girl did not speak during the whole time and was focusing her eyes on him again, he had to speak with his brother and focused himself on the task of reaching Dirthamens's room before a new day started. The child was not his problem to deal with anymore, or so he thought.

Sylaise received the child at the doorstep of her chamber situated in one of Elgar'nan palaces, the man had some territory issues to talk about, little did she care when she saw the girl. The two guards that accompanied her were Dirthamens's and she gestured them away while letting the girl inside, but something was off, she couldn't feel the same energy as before like it was replaced by something else.

"My girl...how do you feel?" her voice was trembling, she feared the worst and when the girl turned to look at the mother, glassy eyes was all she could see, the same eyes her brothers and sisters shared when the Goddess tried to revive them, something tore inside her once again, another failure. But with grief came rage, if the girl was nothing more than a useless shell there was no space for her love, but in reaching her the Goddess got stuck to the floor and no matter how much she tried to free herself, what kept Sylaise on the spot wasn't ice, no, it was too solid and transparent, she was being held by thick crystal.

"Mother" was a feeble little word that made the Goddess stop her struggling, if the girl spoke then it wasn't too late, she could still make her regain full consciousness, the crystal cage disappeared as soon as the rage inside her did, and the girl was between her mother's arms in a moment, not that the girl seemed to care, she just stayed motionless.

"It will be alright, I will make this right"

But the child had to remain a secret to the other Evanuris, Ghilan’nain did not know what her knowledge was used for, Dirthamen just told her he was seeking new knowledge and the Twins had little care for the existence of the girl as far as Sylaise knew. June was happy and relieved to see his daughter breathe again and held her body gently between him and Sylaise that night, fearing she would disappear in a cloud of smoke.

The day after, all the discussions were done, Falon'din and Elgar'nan had a disagreement, Sylaise cared little, she was ready to walk in her and June's room, take the child and go home, Her husband had made a little piece of jewelry for the girl, to hide her aura and give the illusion she was indeed a grown child, not even a teen yet, but enough to be used as a maid to the Goddess, and since there seemed a fight was to come, she wanted her daughter by her side if things got to the point of fleeing.

When Falon'din’s knight died both parents were ready to leave, their presence was requested no more, June gave a little look to his daughter, only to find her walking towards the fallen elf and with a firm voice, he called her, hoping she would obey.

"Maid, you are not supposed to leave your Mistress side " with those words Sylaise turned as well and tried to not panic in front of the others.

"It seems like this one does not listen to you, what family did you say she comes from?" was Andruil sneering comment, she always hated how Sylaise went around with a noble's kid always at her side, just to feel like a mother, she told the huntress a long time ago, Andruil did not understand the other and simply scoffed at whoever child Sylaise put her claws on every decade. The girl, in the meantime, had approached the elf lying there, Elgar'nan's knight looking down at her like she was a pile of dragon dung, but little did she care, she just knelt beside the dying elf, she could feel the regret for something inside him, and his life slowly fading, the elf wasn't dead yet and so she did the only thing she remembered made her mother relax. She started to sing while cleaning his face from the blood, his eyes focused on hers and his ears focused on her voice, he suddenly wasn't scared to close his eyes anymore, and for a moment he felt peace in the arms of someone so young willing to help a dying man finding his last breath, he hoped the best for the girl and wished that her life wouldn't end in slavery. When he finally went limp, the girl smiled sadly down at the pale face in her lap.

A soft hand reached for her and in a second she was on her feet, Falon'din himself was dragging her away while the other Gods were stunned, except for Elgar'nan, who smiled coyly at the other. Mythal simply shook her head, Sylaise and June froze on the spot, the Goddess didn't dare to reach for her daughter and June knew better than to go against Falon'din, so kept both hands on his wife's shoulders, to stop her from moving if she tried.

When the Eluvian closed behind them the girl had no trouble adjusting her eyes to the dark corridor they arrived in but had to look down when Falon'din turned to speak with her.

"Do you have a name?" His voice was a mix between cold and veiled amusement and on her part, the girl did not know, she never had a name for all she knew, her mother and father only called her with nicknames and Hellathren called her young Master, so she simply shook her head and subtly looked up, the God was smiling. He noticed right away the glossy emptiness had left her eyes, that meant she had regained her will to live. Then came the rational thought, such being could help him, and since she was so young he could easily use her as he pleased, he needed her voice, with the future wars to come the girl would be a valid asset. He had to deal with some problems, the girl's parents for a start, but he had time.

"Then welcome home, first off, remove that thing around your neck, I will ask June to make another one and I will infuse it with my own spell...and burn those clothes, you are not going back to your lifegiver anytime soon" with that he started to walk and the girl diligently followed him, not looking at anyone, she simply stared at the head of the God, or well, at his black long hair. After a short walk, they reached a throne room full of slaves and sentinels, there were some tables as well filled with Nobles who whispered between themselves as the God walked toward his throne, the girl still in tow. When he reached the throne the girl had stopped at the steps, not sure what to do with herself, she could smell the meat on the tables and something inside her stirred, her mouth started to salivate and she gulped, fixing her eyes on the clean floor, she had to stop that urge of biting and chewing, although something disagreed inside her. Falon’din saw as to how the girl tensed at the smell in the air and made a gesture towards one of the sentinels, he ordered that one chamber was to be made for the girl as well as a cell in the dungeon, near one where enemies were left to slowly fade away, only then he spoke aloud, to let everyone in the room listen to his claim.

"Let this be a joyful moment, for a new member joins my court, my loyal friends, I present to you my future High Priestess, Dinrenan!" with a smile he gestured with one hand towards her form, and she understood that he just gave her a name. All around the nobles all started to clap loudly, it was unusual for Falon'din to have a new member joining his court, more so if said member was no more than a child in their eyes. The feast was going to be that same night, Dinrenan was escorted to her room by Falon'din himself and whispers started to spread all around, thanks to the working slaves that saw them. Could she be the Master's daughter? Was she some powerful spirit that chose to form a body? What was her purpose? She had a scary look.

Her life was a simple one to the eyes of the people, singing when people died during a battle, for Uthenera, for the Gods, singing for the future to come, to mourn the lost, nothing more and nothing less. What they didn't know was that Dirthamen started to train the girl, under the permission of his brother, and discovered soon after her strengths and weaknesses. Unlike her mother, she wasn't a powerful healer, but more like a crafter, like her father. She had the ability to shapeshift in every living creature as long as she saw it first, and he tested that in every way possible. He had locked her in a black cell filled with people who couldn't give him any more knowledge, and he couldn't turn them into slaves, they were no use to him until he decided to starve the girl and see how she would survive. Survive she did, when the elf chose to reopen the dungeon, five months later, all he could smell were the rotten flesh of the decaying corpses and almost dry blood, it didn't take him much to scan the room: on the far corner were all white bones, near them there seemed to be a tall crystal bowl of what he could only assume to be wastes, even although the room didn't smell like them. He saw on how there was a pile of ragged clothes forming a nest of sorts, and on top of that body parts with flesh still on them, but Dinrenan was nowhere to be seen, then his gaze checked the walls and she was there, hiding in the darker corner where the light did not arrive, she seemed to be one with the wall, he could only spot her because of her blue and violet glowing eyes roaming his form like he was her next prey. Only once she stepped towards him he noticed that she had discarded the jewelry Falon'din made June craft for her and she turned back to her true size and looks, a girl of 6 years old covered in dry blood, with nothing but rags and sharp teeth shining in the feeble light, then he noticed the crown of horns on her head.

“I see, to survive you gave in to your dragon instincts...I won’t let you go out of this place until you return to your...civilized state, I thought this could happen...but it won't be a problem, you will have to stay with me for at least another three months, do you understand me?" he wasn’t going to let a feral thing run through his temple, she would burn everything down if the chance was given to her.

The girl did understand him, but at the moment she wasn't totally sure how to react to his presence, a part of her wanted to attack him, tear his limbs apart and drink his blood to satisfy her bloodlust, the other part, the rational and weak one, wanted nothing more than to beg him to let her out, to let her wash herself of the dry blood. As if sensing her intentions Dirthamen smiled coldly at her, his yellow and purple eyes shining in the dark.

"You won't get out of here unless you turn back, young one. My brother will be pleased in knowing he just has to starve you before locking you up with those who refuse to worship him..." he saw as she nodded slowly and the horns on her head faded away. She wanted to speak, to let him know she wasn't feral at all, not yet, the last meal had enough meat on his bones to fulfill her hunger, for the moment being.

"Food" it's all that she managed to say before walking, more like stumbling, towards the black-haired man, who at the sight felt a little guilty and disgusted, that was not something he was used to, the guilt. Only when he looked away from the creature, he saw the spirits in the cell, spirits of mercy, pity, hunger, and shame, they all stayed in the near corner where he stood, with grey colors as to not be seen by him got curious.

"How long before she killed you?" He asked them but it seemed like they did not want to answer, no one spoke aloud, they only stared at the girl and refused to answer the God, which meant he wouldn't get a straight answer from them, but Dinrenan spoke before falling on her knees and arms.

"I...I sang, I sang to them, to reassure them nothing was going to happen...and some of them refused to wake up...so...I...I..." she couldn't say it, Dirthamen saw on how the girl struggled to get the words out of her mouth, he only scoffed and turned around, leaving the door open, the girl was no threat once her instincts died down and so she was free to leave, he had a guest to attend to after all, and it wouldn't be kind to let him wait. The girl did not understand, she looked at the spirits and they all walked towards her sides, patting her on the back and on her head, she gave them the mercy they requested, to listen to her voice and never wake up again. With a sniff, the girl picked up the broken necklace she destroyed in a fit of rage and walked toward her so-called freedom, as long as she behaved normally and didn't give in to her dragon instincts Dirthamen had no interest in keeping her secluded. Step after step she found herself walking in the shadows to avoid the slaves and sentinels till she reached her room, but someone was already waiting for her, one of Falon'din noble sentinels that years later would still protect her from herself and keep her memory in order to protect her until the day she was ready to face them.

His name was Dinlin.

Someone that years later she would call Pity. -----------

Took me long enough to finish this! I started with a picture and ended up with another, the end picture is somewhat decent while the first I made included more bones, blood, and all happy stuff. Had to cut some parts as well, a friend of mine that read it threw up her dinner, so I choose to cut the Slave Carving, remove the reason as to why Hellathren did what she did (It will be explained in Dirthrenan "Blood relationship" with Dinrenan), the other funny exercises Dirthamen put her through and along the way I got carried away and put Dinlin in it as well...so, for the most part, now you know who Dinrenan's parent are!

#Dragon age #Dragon age Inquisition #Dinrenan #Evanuris #Sylaise #June #falon'din #dirthamen #heed the warnings #I warned you #Dinlin #My art #My writing #Dinrenan Origin

2 notes · View notes

rohad93 · 3 years

Text

Worth the Fight: Chap 4

Early the next morning Luz quickly made her way from the inn to the town square with King trotting along at her side, allowing her to make her way through the crowds easily as people moved to get away from the furry, black beast. Luz rolled her eyes at the occasional witch who would practically dive out of the way at the sight of him, she was sure he seemed amused by it though. Her demonic companion just had a way of conveying himself that was easily translatable for Luz and Eda. She finished stuffing the last of her breakfast of bread and cheese into her mouth and tossed King the last scrap of the dried meat as they walked, he caught it, teeth making a loud snapping noise as his jaws closed around it, making a couple of passerby's jump. Without ever actually talking about it, ownership of King had just sort of shifted to Luz, though Eda claimed she’d never owned him, to begin with, he’d just started following her one day. He'd appeared one night, injured and one of his horns freshly snapped off and fell down at her fireside. Eda had tended to him and he’d just never gone away, just like Luz herself. The older knight seemed to have a way of collecting the hurt and hungry.

The sun had only just risen over the city walls, but already the streets were alive with noise and movement. People hocking things on every street corner, yelling to be heard over the crowds, and the other vendors all trying to shout over each other. It was invigorating actually, the liveliness of it all, especially after the dreary little town of Beldville. That and the fact that she didn’t need to walk around with the hood of her cloak pulled up to cover her ears. No one seemed to even look at her twice as she walked around, they had places to be and stuff to do, no time to be needlessly condescending to her it seemed.

She watched the people as they passed, the market was the obvious melting pot of the city, there were beggars lined along the streets, as there were in every city, but there was also common folk, dressed much like her and nobles, easily identifiable by their manner of dress, not fit to work in, and the way they walked around with their noses stuck up in the air.

What Luz didn't see, no matter where she looked, were humans, not that it was very odd. Luz couldn't remember the last time she'd run into a fellow human, maybe not since her mother had died seven years ago. They had lived away from everyone, human and witch, in a little shack on the edge of the woods, in bothered until…

Luz shook her head, casting away the thought, today was the start of a brand new chapter of her life, she wasn't going to dwell on painful memories today.

She straightened and forcefully shoved those memories to the farthest recesses of her mind and with renewed focus made her way to the center of the market, the jovial sounds of the people around her now sound distant and muffled.

The job boards are easy enough to find, three tall, large wooden plaques on stands in the middle of the town square, sitting in front of a large fountain, with various pieces of parchment tacked to them, advertising people's need for labor.

Luz pursed her lips as she looked at all the different jobs, hope falling quickly as she scanned the papers

The job boards are filled with all kinds of tasks, deliveries, or pickups mostly, but a few odds and ends, such as finding someone's lost rooster or foraging for herbs in the woods, none of which interest Luz in the slightest. She was hoping for something a little more exciting, like fighting the cockatrice the other night had been, but the city seems to be rather lacking in beasts running amok at the moment.

She reached up and scratched her new scar with a blunt nail as she thought about that wild adventure. She would be ready next time. She still needed to study her book when she had the time, but later. She focused on the boards.

It’s mostly a lot of the same grunt work or manual labor. She frowned to herself as she looked over the many papers and even a few wanted posters with silver or even gold rewards, but that’s probably a little beyond her experience, wise at this point, that’s going to be a plan 'Z' right now.

She sighed to herself and pulled the slip of parchment out of her pocket, it had a guy's name and the name of a pub Eda had told her was down by the docks. He was supposedly the go-between for the noble families looking to hire and people looking for work.

She really hadn’t wanted to do that, but Eda gave her and King her last meal this morning, from this point on she had to make her own way or go hungry.

She sighed again and squared her shoulders as she turned to make her way down to the docks, it wasn’t exactly what she wanted, but she needed to eat and maybe if she did enough boring grunt work for some nobles she could save up to give herself a cushion so she wouldn’t need to worry about going hungry while looking for other work that was a little more like what she wanted.

‘Hexside’ is already full of patrons drinking the day away when she arrives.

It doesn’t take her long to find the pub in question, it’s sitting right on the water and it looks like every other pub Luz had ever seen in her seventeen years. A large, building with worn, sun-dried wood and drunkards hanging around out front, looking for money to buy more of their liquid diet. She wrinkled her nose at the briny fish smell that filled the air of the docks as they walked up to the doors.

“Wait here, Bud.” She scratched King’s head, leaving him sitting outside as she wedged her way into the dim watering hole and made a beeline for the bar. For being just after sunup the place is already half full and reeks of alcohol and body odor. She would prefer the fishy smell of the docks.

The barkeep gave her a sideways look as she sidled up to the bar, no doubt looking at her ears, she barely resisted rolling her eyes.

“I’m looking for Morton?” she asked him uncertainly and he nodded toward the back, where a skinny guy in dark brown monk robes and a strange conical hat was sitting at a table, a pile of papers in front of him and a mug of mead in one hand.

She pushed her way through the bar toward the little table in the back.

“Morton?” she called and he looked up, tensing, eyes darting around.

“Who wants to know?” He was looking at her cautiously.

“I’m Luz Noceda, I’m looking for work,” she explained.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, you’re Eda’s apprentice, right?” he asked and she nodded. “Yeah, she said you’d be by, I saved a job for ya.” He flipped through the papers and picked one up. “Guard duty for a noble family.”

“Guard duty?” Luz slumped, disappointed as Morton looked back up at her.

“Look, Kid, this is a well paying and relatively easy job, anyone I’ve seen today would kill for this, but I held it back for you as a favor to E, it’s also the only work I have left for the next couple days, so take it or leave it.”

Luz knows that she needs to work, even if it isn’t exactly what she had in mind, it is work and thus, food in her mouth; that motivates her more than anything.

“I’ll take it.” she took the paper being held out to her.

“Good, the noble family are the Blights'. A lot of their usual guards have been sent across the sea to fight in the war, they need to replace the ones that guard their manor, head over there now, that paper will get you in.”

“Thanks,” Luz nodded and turned to go, paper in hand. King jumped up and followed after her as she walked out the door.

“I guess a job is a job if we want to eat, right, Bud?” she looked down at the furry beast that stood as tall as her waist and patted his head.

She had to stop and ask for directions a few times but finally found the large manor on the eastern side of the city, just outside the main walls on a large plot of land and surrounded by a tall, black, wrought iron fence. It was at least three stories and made of smooth almost white stone.

"I guess this is it…," Luz spoke aloud, mostly to herself, but also to King.

A single guard, not much older than her stood outside the gate, looking bored, but he seemed to perk up as Luz approached.

“State your business.”

“I’m here to see… Hieronymus Bump?” Luz glanced at the paper in hand. Was she saying that name right?

The guard took the paper and looked it over before nodding and handing it back.

“Right, follow me.” He jerked his head and led them inside the gate to the manor doors.

“Stay here, King.” She held up a hand and the beast stayed where he was, sitting just outside the gate as she disappeared inside the manor.

“Whoa…,” Luz mumbled to herself as they stepped inside. The reception area is large with smooth polished stone floors and a large staircase that leads up to the second floor before it splits off to the left and right while the sconces that lined the walls glow with fire that she can tell immediately isn't natural, magic of some kind.

The house seemed to be decorated in a dark green and burgundy color scheme. The banners that line the walls feature both colors, with a serpentine creature that could be a dragon or maybe a malformed snake, twisted across the two fields of color and thorny vines wrapped around it.

The rest of the house is just as lavishly decorated as the entryway and she looked around owlishly at everything as the guard led her down the halls before they finally stopped at a door and he knocked.

“Yes?” a deep voice drifted through the door.

“A new recruit, sir.”

“Send them in.”

The guard gestured to the door before walking away as Luz stepped inside, looking around.

It’s a study, the walls are lined with bookshelves, fit too near bursting, and a desk on the other side of the room, from which a man is sitting behind, looking at her with serious, teal eyes.

“We don’t have all day, come in.” He motioned with a hand and she quickly scurried inside, closing the door behind her and moved to stand in front of the desk. The man was elderly and wearing some kind of creature over his head. Luz had to admit, for all the strange things she had seen over the years, that was a new one.

“Your papers?” he held out a wrinkled hand with long pointed nails. Luz handed over the parchment and he scanned it quickly. “You came for one of the guard positions?”

“I did... um, sir.” she nodded and he finally looked at her, really looked at her, and Luz swallowed thickly as his gaze lingered on her ears. Stupid, rounded ears!

“You are?” he questioned.

“Oh, Luz Noceda… sir!”

“I don’t suppose you have any qualifications?” He drummed his fingers impatiently across the polished wood of his desk.

“I’ve spent the last five years training under Eda, the Owl Knight…,” she trailed off. Eda’s name usually garnered one of two reactions, contempt or reluctantly impressed. She was just that kind of person.

The man’s face turned thoughtful for a long moment, stroking his chin with a hand.

“You’re Edalyn’s student, hmm?” His eyes narrowed. “I take that to mean she’s back in town…, just what we need,” he grumbled tiredly. “Very well, hopefully, you won’t cause half as much mayhem as Edalyn,” he grunted, standing and walking around the desk, hands folded behind his back. “I am Sir Hieronymus Bump, the steward of Blight Manor, I see to most affairs in Lord and Lady Blight’s stead as well as serve as a tutor to their children.” He introduced himself as he came to stand in front of Luz. “You will take your orders from me, or a member of the Blight family, and no one else, understood?”

“Uh, yes sir!” Luz saluted, back going ramrod straight and Bump nodded, pleased.

“Let me outline your duties then, you will stay here, in the guard barracks six days of the week, night and day, to perform guard duty for the manor and family as needed…”

Luz mentally deflated at that, she would need to live here until this job was finished. Maybe this wasn’t the job for her. She was just about to voice as much when Bump continued on.

“Meals will be provided to you and every fortnight you will collect your payment of thirty silver a day from me.”

Luz almost choked on her spit at that. Thirty silver a day? That was… a lot of money, She could put a lot of money away for future adventures and she wouldn’t need to spend any of it on food..

“Understood?” Bump is looking at her with a considering gaze and Luz nodded.

“I understand, sir.”

“Very well, go, collect your things and be back before sundown, I will give you your duties to commence first thing in the morning.” He turned and walked back to his desk at the dismissal.

Luz wasted no time disappearing out the door and back to the front door. King’s ears perked up when she approached, trotting across the yard and through the gate.

“Let’s go, Bud, we gotta tell Eda!” She grinned as they raced back through the city toward the Redstone inn.

She couldn’t believe her luck, sure, it was a far cry from the exciting adventures of slaying monsters or hunting down bandits that she had envisioned, but it was a good place to start, for sure.

Eda isn’t there when they get to the Inn, which she should have expected, she was still out on a job no doubt, but Luz had time, she could wait for her mentor to return before she left.

She gathered up her meager possessions in a sack. Some spare clothes, her new magic book, and a small, wooden box that carried her most cherished possession. She ran her fingers over the smooth wood and smiled sadly to herself before she set it carefully in the bag.

It doesn’t take long before Eda returned, looking haggard from her day doing who even knew what.

Luz immediately launched into her story about the job, sparing no detail. Eda whistled.

“Thirty silver a day? That’s a lot of money to stand around looking like you’re busy. This must be one rich family.” Eda hummed, rubbing her chin thoughtfully.

“I’m not going to help you rob them…” Luz frowned, already knowing by the look on Eda’s face what she was thinking.

“You’re no fun,” Eda grumbled, leaning back on the bed, and crossing her arms. “Good job, Kid. You’ll be great.” She grinned.

“Thanks…” she smiled but Eda could see the unsure look on her face and her voice lacked its usual amount of pep.

“What’s the matter?” she cocked her head. Luz shrugged, making a face.

“I guess it just feels real now, we’re not gonna be traveling or staying together anymore, I’m going off on my own… I’m not your apprentice anymore… I’m going to miss you,” she admitted, looking at Eda, eyes glazing over.

“You’re such a sap,” Eda huffed but smiled as she stood from the bed to stand in front of Luz. “No, we won’t. You’re as ready as you’re ever going to be, you just need experience, and you’re not going to get it following me around, but hey, I think I’m gonna stay in town for some time, so as I said, I’ll be around if you need any advice or just miss this lovely face.” She batted her eyes, making Luz snort. Eda slapped a hand atop Luz’s head, even though she was just as tall as her now, a far cry from when they first met five years ago and ruffled her hair. Luz grinned as she did. “But yeah, I’ll miss seeing you every day too, Luz.”

Without warning, Luz threw her arms around the older witch and squeezed, and for once, Eda didn’t complain about the hug, just squeezed her back for a moment before pushing her back to arm's length.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough affection, you got places to be and it isn’t here being emotional all over me,” Eda smirked, planting a hand on her hip.

“Right!” Luz picked her sack up off the bed and tossed it over her shoulder.

“Don’t forget that one.” Eda jerked her thumb at King, laying sprawled out on her bed without a care in the world. Luz nodded and stuck two fingers in her mouth, giving off a high pitched whistle that made King shoot up off the bed and hop to her side. Eda reached out and scratched the spot between his horns.

“You take care of her, furball,” Eda smirked at him.

King seemed to huff in response, but his eyes narrowed pleasurably as she scratched his head.

“Now get outta here, we’ll see each other again before you know it.” She smiled and Luz nodded, smiling back before she turned and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. She sighed and straightened up as she turned to King.

"Okay Bud, it's you and me against the world, a woman and her demon wolf!"

King let out a deafening bark in response.

"Get out of here already!" Eda's voice called through the door.

Luz laughed to herself as they trotted down the hall and out of the inn.

#Luz noceda #Eda Clawthorne #King #the owl house #toh #fanfic #eventual Lumity

18 notes · View notes

tonyotter-blog · 3 years

Text

A freezing warm reception

Large paws gently patted the soil around the heavy roots of a Sequoia tree. They grew tall in this part of the forest. Something about the mushrooms here, thought the owner of the paws. One large claw carefully lifted some leaves off the ground revealing a small collection of brown capped fungus. These too will grow larger!

The bear straightened, taking a paw to his lower back and let out a growl. So many hours crouching… That can’t be good. He looked up at the sky, noticing the daylight getting dimmer. It was time to go home. Wiping his paws together to brush off the dirt, he set off at a brisk pace. He didn’t want to be late to cook his newly acquired puffballs. They took years to become just right, and added to that freshly caught salmon, he was in for a treat! Already his mouth was salivating a little at the thought of a tasty dinner.

He walked through a maze of trees, bushes, and small glades. No noticeable directions were in sight, even the sun was hard to see now that it was setting, somewhere beyond a distant hillside. Yet the bear moved on with the quasi-confidence of a cartographical elephant, updated to the most recent maps from Albania to Zimbabwe. The confidence was quasi, for something gnawed at the back of his mind. Summer was supposed to arrive soon and the days were certainly getting pleasant and warm. Still, the evening breezes were getting colder; the kind of cold that says “You might want to bring a scarf tomorrow”. Something wasn’t quite right.

And there, just beyond a large centennial oak tree, a sign greeted him. “Bernard’s place”. He was home. Opening the door and lowering his head to allow his magical antlers through, he was glad to be back indoors. The chill was starting to make his fur stand. He hardly had time to close the door and make his way to the kitchen that the door slammed open, letting a freezing wind rush through.

Papers, mushroom charts, pots, herbs went flying across the living room. A motivational poster for mycophagists with a caption “Be a fungi!” gained a new vocation as an airline poster, spiralling over the dinner table before crashing on the couch.

Bernard rushed to the door. He managed to push it closed, leaning on it and using his considerable weight, and still the wind could be felt pushing against it.

“What in Pudding’s twisted mind is all this about?” He growled. “I’m not imagining this! I’m sure of it!”

Indeed, Bernard hadn’t eaten a single mushroom since yesterday, choosing to keep his delicacies for dinner instead.

Looking outside from the window, the little crepuscular light available allowed him to see the trees struggling, leaning Eastwards, leaves rushing between them in a green haze. A deep fear gripped his heart, as he considered the very real possibility that some of those trees might be torn off and taken with this infernal wind. With his strength, he might help keep one rooted. But he could only help a single tree. So many others could be torn away.

Then just as suddenly as it all began, the wind stopped. Leaves gradually lost speed and fell to the ground. The trees regained their upright positions, branches dropping slightly, though much more naked now.

“I’m going to have a word with that crazy gerbil!” Said Bernard, putting on his favourite orange scarf, and walking back outside. He went Westwards, moving quickly between the chaos of fallen leaves and broken branches. The wind came from there, and Pudding must surely be there too.

This path led to the edge of the forest. It made sense. Pudding was never fully part of Bernard’s forest, and yet had a very felt presence at times. He was a strange gerbil - and this coming from a bear who collected and ate mushrooms by the whale-load! Pudding was known to solve quadratic equations without a square root, use the power of quantum physics to revive kittens - then name them all Shrödinger - and use aluminium foil hats to build a communications network to rival AT&T. Whatever he was planning now was akin to a colossal wind tunnel for planetary aerodynamic testing.

It was getting dark and difficult the see, but Bernard could navigate his way around the forest blindfolded. He knew exactly where he was going. He could visualise the entire region in his mind with infra-red precision and place his paws with laser accuracy, whatever those words meant. Pudding used them a lot when building his giant telescope. He found the moon at night with it, so it must work!

As he got to the edge of the forest, he felt that cold breeze rise again. It struck him that it wasn’t coming from outside the forest, but the rocky hillside that led to the mountains farther beyond. He approached carefully, sniffing the air for anything interesting. The large Hypmyces lactifluorum certainly was interesting, and his rumbling stomach agreed, but he had to focus. Now was not the time to think of food. Still a little nibble would do no harm…

Bernard pulled away with all his might. No. The mushroom would have to wait. This was urgent! Well, more urgent than his hunger for mushrooms - which come to think of it was constantly urgent.

Coming closer to the hillside, the breeze got colder and colder, until it reached that chilly scarf-requiring point at the very entrance of a dark cave. He had seen this place many times before, and never had it felt so dreary. Something strange was afoot. It wasn’t fear that he felt, but a deep sense of foreboding. Steeling himself, he stepped inside slowly, letting each paw settle down quietly on the floor.

The air was still in the complete darkness, yet arctically cold. He pressed on, one paw at a time, his senses heightened. In the distance, he heard skittering sounds.

And very faint squeals.

“Who goes there?” He demanded, with a faint edge of uncertainty lingering in his voice.

No answer came, but the skittering seemed to draw closer.

Bernard instinctively took a step back before reminding himself this would only show fear. Instead, he stood on his hind legs and tried that magic spell his old friend Crème Brulée had taught him.

“Flambé!” He shouted holding his paw up. The edge of his paw lit up like million candles. Well, a million cheap candles from the dollar store, that is. He hadn’t used that spell in a long while, and besides, bears weren’t natural magical creatures. It lit like a banged up flashlight with a broken glass and slightly misconnecting wires. It flickered. A lot. But gave enough light to see a million dusty eyes looking up at him from the floor of the cavern, very round, wide open, staring out from dusty round bodies with little floppy ears.

Bernard was astonished. He had never seen such creatures.

One of the smaller ones rolled forward toward him, craned it’s neck (if it had a neck in its anatomy), glowing eyes meeting the bears’. With a tiny squeaky voice it asked “hug?”

Bernard blinked. The cavern was silent.

“Hi! I’m Speckles. I’ve been gathering for five years!” The little ball of dust said, as if it carried all the importance in the world.

A larger ball of dust rolled forward and grabbed it, pulling it away, back into the pack of dust. It seemed to whisper something to the other, but Bernard couldn’t make out what it was.

Another rolled forward, leaving a trail of cookie crumbs behind. Its squeaky voice had more timbre. Despite its high pitch, there was no doubt to anyone it spoke with the assurance and confidence of many dusty years of wisdom collected on a library shelf.

“Forgive us, master bear. We’re dust bunnies. We’ve travelled all the way here to your forest. We heard it would shelter us.” What Bernard could only describe as nods and hums of agreement came from all the other dust bunnies. “You see, we’ve been faced with a terrible foe. A new machination that invaded our homes. They call it the Hoover! We only seek to settle in peace.”

The bear looked around. Little eyes filled the depths of the cave. There must be thousands of them, all huddled within. Bernard could only nod, still shocked at this revelation. “Of course you can stay here! My forest protects all!”

And for the first time in many years, the dust bounced, filling the cave in a gigantic chilly cloud of happiness. Never had cold felt so warm in Bernard’s life.

#writing #short story #shippochistudio #twitch #creative #katony

2 notes · View notes

3starsquinn · 4 years

Text

The Next Right Thing || Orion & Winston

Setting: Around 2-3am morning of 10/20 after the birthday chatzies (x and x)

Location: Ricky/Winston/Rio’s house

Parties: Orion and @danetobelieve

Content Warning: Physical and emotional abuse mentions, Death mentions

Summary: After Rio leaves his parent’s house he goes home to find Winston. Things are surprisingly less dreary than they probably should be.

Orion had no idea what time it was when he finally snuck back into the house. His real home. His safe haven. Not the glorified prison his parents had to offer. Or… offered. It was only a matter of time before that news came out. Before investigations happened and questions started to be asked. How long was it before suspicion fell to Rio and Athena? Would they be the first suspects? How was Rio supposed to even sleep tonight, knowing what hell was coming in a few hours? He had cried tonight, more than he had wanted to. He had cried for himself and for his sister. He had cried because of what he had been forced to do and what this meant for him. But he still hadn’t cried for his parents death. He wasn’t sure he ever would. Now he felt like he was out of tears.

Orion went to his room first. He dropped his bag off and tried his bed out, lying in it for approximately twenty seconds before he realized that he wasn’t ready to sleep. He couldn’t push off telling Winston. No matter what it meant, Winston deserved to know. Even though they worked for the same police department that would be investigating the murders. Winston had trusted Rio with the necromancy even though the two had barely been speaking at the time. He abandoned his room and crossed the hallway somberly, resting his hand against the door for a moment before he convinced himself to knock. The light peaked out from the foot of the door and Rio could hear the typing from the bedroom. He knocked, waiting for the okay to come in and slipped through a crack before closing the door again and resting his back again. Facing Winston now, Rio realized that he apparently did have some tears left in him. These were for Winston, because Rio didn’t know how they were going to react. “Sorry I- I didn’t want to interrupt.” Rio wiped at his face and wished that he had been able to just come home and watch Winston work. But telling them now was the right thing to do. “Something happened…” Rio took a deep breath, chickening out from the immediate truth and settling instead of, “My parents are dead.” He would let the shock of that settle before dropping the other bomb.

It had been a late night. Honestly, most of their nights were late nights now. Winston had always been dependent -- to some degree at least -- on caffeine to assist with not sleeping and the hours that they choose to keep. Now more so then ever. Sleep didn’t come easy. Not with Roland’s death and the lack of assistance that they’d been able to have on anything that had happened to do with it. Not including any of the danger that Rio and Blanche had been put in. So they’d crawled into their work and although Roland had been dead for almost longer then Winston was willing to admit. The sound of typing filled the room. The only light was from the computer screens and it cast a relatively eerie glow around them. Winston swallowed a large mouthful of hot coffee as they heard the knock on the door. Their latest project was their most complicated yet, but then again wasn’t it always the most complicated project yet? Trying to calibrate the auto turrets that they wanted to install for the house was far from easy on a technological level and although in theory including a magical component should make it simpler, the truth was that it didn’t. “Come in,” they called, it was late but they hadn’t realised quite how late. Rio was usually asleep at this time and Winston barely looked up from the computer screen until Rio spoke. There was a familiar pain in their voice and Winston felt their heart fall through their chest and into their stomach. It felt like it was slowly and awkwardly dissolving there and Winston swallowed a few times before speaking. “You never have to apologise Rio,” they were standing and basically running across the room before pulling Rio into the tightest hug that they could. It was so important that he knew how much Winston cared in this minute. Winston had hated Rio’s parents but that didn’t mean that they really wanted them dead. “Do you … what …. I….” Winston was notoriously bad at things like this. But they had to be good now. For Rio if nothing else. “Rio, what happened? I’m so sorry.”

As usual, Orion was oddly surprised that Winston immediately dropped everything to comfort him. It shouldn’t come as a shock. Winston had done it long before the two were romantically involved and had never stopped. Even after the whole love potion fiasco, Winston had tried to act as though it hadn’t bothered them. But old habits die hard, and it was still weird getting used to all of his friends being there for him when he had spent his entire life with only the Quinn family as an example of what to expect. It couldn’t be any more evident that Rio didn’t deserve Winston. It couldn’t be any more evident that Rio didn’t deserve Winston. Rio held too much baggage, too many fears and apprehensions. How could he ever live up to what Winston needed? What they deserved? The thoughts only forced Rio to cry harder, being pulled tighter into a hug as he tried to breathe through the blubbering and force himself to say the words that he hadn’t quite managed yet. Even while Nic was there, he hadn’t been able to admit it directly. He had to now. “It was me.” Rio finally admitted, breaking the hug to take a step backwards. He didn’t feel like he deserved it anymore. “I went to the house and- there was a fight and they got so angry. I thought they were going to kill me so…” Rio didn’t mention Athena. If things went south, there was no reason to drag both of them into it. The look on her face after it was over hadn’t left Rio’s brain yet. He had never seen her hurt or scared like that before. He imagined it was the same facial expression Rio had made before in his life, considering they were twins. “I killed them. I killed them.” Rio had to repeat it again for it to feel real. “I don’t- I can’t believe that I did that.”

A dark part of Winston had begun brewing recently. A seed in their heart that they couldn’t help but nurture and nourish. It hadn’t been deliberate. But all the violence. All of the death. All of the pain. It was hard not to see that dark part grow and whilst Winston had once tried to suppress it they weren’t sure they could anymore. It wasn’t as if they were deliberately feeding it or anything. It just … happened. So when Rio admitted that they had been the one who had done the deed, there was a tiny part of Winston that wanted to say good. That wanted to tell Rio that his parents had been bad people who had done terrible things to him and Athena. That wanted to point to the scars that crisscrossed Rio’s arms and highlight that this was a fair trade. Obviously Winston didn’t do that. What kind of partner would they be if they had? But there was a moment where they almost did. “You…” Winston swallowed again, looking him in the eye before placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, “you need to tell me everything that happened, and you need to not lie to me because your parents were well known members in the community and I can’t keep you safe from any or well …. You know all of this if I don’t know everything that happened. First things first, you didn’t text or call anyone did you? Because if you did we need to get rid of those records immediately, anything that might implicate you.” Winston was going too fast. “I guess, before we can do any of that I need you to tell me everything that happened, I know you went to their house, why did you fight? Why did you go to the house? Can you tell me what happened to make you go there? Did you go on your own?” Was Winston asking too many questions? They weren’t sure but they certainly weren’t trained for this sort of thing. But they had to do something. It was Rio….

You. The word had been enough to stop Orion’s breath and hold his eyes shut. He knew what came after it. You monster. You murderer. You freak. Many variations, but all meaning the same thing. But instead, those words never came. Rio felt Winston’s lips brush against his forehead and then began asking questions about what had happened. Rio peaked an eye open to examine them. Winston was being serious. Knowing the story. Deleting phone records. Winston was going to help Rio. “You’re- You’re going to help me?” Rio found himself asking even though it seemed pretty obvious by this point. “I- yeah. Okay.” Rio shook his head, wiping the tears from his face and beginning to recount the night, “Athena and I have this tradition. We end our birthdays by sitting on the rooftop until midnight when it turns to October 20th. I went over there to meet with her and do it and- well I went to tell her that I couldn’t talk to her anymore. That I needed to cut ties with the entire Quinn family if I was going to move on. But- before I could leave our parents caught us.” Rio didn’t know how much information Winston actually needed, but he couldn’t stop it from all spilling out now, “There was an incident. On our eighteenth birthday. Our parents had a werewolf. They starved and tortured it and made it attack us during training. Athena ended up killing it right before it could kill me. And uh- well they admitted that they had done it on purpose. To try to get rid of me.” It didn’t bother Rio so much anymore. He had accepted the truth of that night months ago, but Athena hadn’t taken it so well. “They were going to finish the job. She broke my wrist,” Rio held up his wrapped left hand as evidence, “And she was hurting Athena. And I had to do something so- there was a fight and my mom got hurt. And then my dad came after me. He died first.” He was still teetering between telling Winston about Athena’s involvement. That she had stabbed their father before Rio had finished her off. Or that she had been the one to kill their mother. An odd part of Rio felt protective over her. “I called a friend of mine. Nic. He helped me clean up and he told Athen and I to leave. To have an alibi ready just in case.”

A deep frown furrowed Winston’s brow and they sighed gently. “Of course I’m going to help me … wait not I mean, of course I’m going to help you … Rio, you-you’re my boyfriend and I love you and I’d never ever let you go through something like this on your own and I don’t want you to go to jail because you were dealing with …” Winston again was really struggling not to out right call Orion’s recently deceased parents shit heads but there was a time and a place for everything and Winston got the impression that this was not the time and the place for that particular brand of profanity, “.... well everything around this.” They listened carefully to the story that Orion told, trying to take in all of the details. “If they were trying to get rid of you and you managed to survive not once but twice then …. Well you did what you had to do and even if you did kill them both it was definitely in self defense and we can use that as a defense if everything goes wrong but ….” Winston was chewing their lip nervously as their brain rocketed into overtime trying to think of the perfect scenario, “I won’t be able to work on this case if it gets that far because it is to do with you and therefore would probably be a conflict of interests which is an ethical breach, so we need to do everything now, I can probably use magic to fuck with your GPS signal so that they won’t know that you were at the house but …” Winston didn’t know that Rio knew Nic, taking a deep breath they furrowed their brow once more.” Winston swallowed and considered everything that was going on. “Here’s the plan, we’ll go to the woods behind my parents house and we’ll fake a fall for you, then I can go and get my parents and tell them you’ve fallen and that can be our alibi, we can say that we were doing some astronomy shit and take a telescope out there, I know Ricky has some lying around that were just in the house and yeah, alibi is sensible. You’ll get called in about this even if you aren’t a suspect so after tonight we’re going to need to start learning your story and we both need to know it perfectly. But most of all, we don’t talk to anyone without a lawyer present which we should also start thinking about.”

Winston was a machine, talking at a rapid pace and running through the entire scenario in a surprising amount of detail. Orion remembered that Winston had been part of something that had taken a life. Maybe that was where this all came from. Coupled with Winston’s own experience working for the police department and Rio was either the luckiest boyfriend in the world or the unluckiest, depending on how Winston had taken the news. Aside from knowing Winston was important enough to get the whole truth, it had been another reason why lying to them would have been a bad idea. Still, it was pretty amazing seeing the gears turn in their head as they formulated an alibi on the spot. “My wrist will heal quickly. It’ll probably be better if we just tell your parents I sprained it.” Rio interjected, nodding along in agreement and wishing that this wasn’t something they had to drag Winston’s parents into. “I don’t know any lawyers.” Rio stated. Would he have to tell this same story to a lawyer if they got one? Would he have to lie and go along with this fake story? Lying wasn’t something that Rio was unaccustomed to. He had been doing it his whole life. But he had thought that part of his life was coming to a close. Now he had just gone and made it so much worse. “I don’t regret it.” Maybe Rio shouldn’t disclose all this information, in fear that Winston thought that he had completely lost it. But Rio couldn’t shut himself up. “I took someone’s life. I killed them. And I’m horrified and sad because I took a life. But not because it was them. I wanted them dead. I don’t regret that it was them and I don’t miss them. I hate them. And I’m happy that they can never hurt me or my sister or anyone else ever again.”

There were a million and three ways that this could go wrong and Winston dreaded to think about how everything could go badly if they didn’t get this right. They had to get it right because if they didn’t get it right then Winston didn’t know what was going to happen to their boyfriend and they weren’t going to ever let anything bad happen to anyone, not if they could help it. Not after everything that they’d been through this year. “Okay, good point, we’ll tell them we’re doing all the star gazing, romantic sappy stuff, then we can say you slipped and fell and hurt your wrist and that cements our alibi with them and with everything else.” Winston swallowed thoughtfully and sighed for a moment. “Of course not, your feelings are obviously valid and of course you wouldn’t regret it and you shouldn’t. But taking someone’s life, taking anything's life is never ever going to be easy …” Winston sighed, “you did what you had to do. I once thought that we lived in a system which would let us keep safe without ever having to do anything like that. But I’m starting to learn that not only can the cops not keep us safe in the human world, but when it starts to come to the supernatural world they aren’t even close to being able to help us at all.” Winston swallowed and considered their words carefully. “Sometimes, unfortunately you just have to make the tough call and you just have to decide that you can’t just sit and watch this anymore. You have to decide that now is the time to act and that’s what you did. You did what you thought was right and I don’t think that anyone can blame you for that. I certainly don’t. They don’t and can’t and will never do anything to you or Athena ever again.” For the first time since Orion had moved in, Winston was sure that he was safe here.

Orion didn’t know what was wrong with himself. He didn’t regret what he had done. He couldn’t regret finally stopping those monsters from torturing him and others. He wouldn’t miss them. He wouldn’t have to be scared of running into them again. He wouldn’t have to fear for his friends' lives that his parents would kill them if they found out they weren’t human. Everything about this situation was better. So why couldn’t Rio stop crying? Winston was right. The police couldn’t help when it came to the supernatural. They never would have known about his parents. They had been too good at covering their tracks. They had been the only ones able and willing to stop them. Rio had never been much for affection or intimacy. Mostly because intimacy had never been present. Physical touch had only ever been painful. But with Winston things came easy. Rio didn’t just accept their touch, he craved it. And pulled Winston into another tight hug, “I love you so much. Thank you.” The words came easy too, the feeling that Rio had known for a while but too afraid to say it before. He let himself bask in the beautiful moment before he had to turn the conversation back to the nights earlier events. “There’s going to be- My dad. In the basement he kept… a room. Like his own private operating theatre. He did terrible things there. When they search the house, they’re going to find it. And they’re going to know something was really wrong. I don’t- I just wanted you to hear it from me. Before you hear about it at work. People are going to figure out exactly what kind of people my parents were. Which means they’re going to have even more questions for me. I don’t want you to get dragged into the middle of that.”

Swallowing gently, Winston felt their tongue sit dryly in their mouth as they tried to come to grips with their current situation and truly grapple with whether or not they were going to be able to come to terms with this and how they could best help Rio. Honestly, it didn't change anything for them. Just for Rio. If someone else had killed their parents then Winston would have been a little bit more concerned but with Rio … well it wasn’t what Winston had wanted but it was a good solution to the problem. “I love you too and you know that you don’t have to say thank you to me, I would never ever let you do this on your own. What is the point of having a partner if they’re not going to be your literal partner in crime.” In hindsight now was probably not the very best time for Winston to be telling jokes, but that was fine, Winston was sure Rio wouldn’t mind and it cut the tension. At least that is what Winston said to themselves in that moment. Swallowing gently, Winston realized that they hadn’t fully grasped just how fucked up Rio’s parents were. Which was kind of shocking honestly, Winston had not believed that there was anything else that they could possibly do that would make them worse then they already were. “Of course, I mean, I’m glad you told me but I don’t think that means anything, if anyone asks we just tell them that you’re living with me because you ran away from home because you couldn’t stand your parents, we say you didn’t know about any of that and … you know, we’ll make sure that everything is worked out. I won’t be allowed to work this, because you know, conflict of interest and ethical standards and all that, but that’s probably good in the end, means I can focus on keeping you safe.”

Orion nodded his head. He just kept nodding his head. Over and over again as Winston spoke, as Winston saved everything for Rio. Winston claimed that Rio didn’t owe them a thank you but in reality Rio owed them everything. The only reason he was alive right now was because of Winston’s offer back at the Scribrary that night. Winston and Ricky’s generosity had kept Rio safe from his parents for this long. Now, after Rio had done something he wasn’t even sure he would have been capable of months ago, Winston was there to save the day again. Whether Winston wanted to accept the gratitude or not, Rio would owe them for the rest of his life. Rio tried laughing at Winston’s joke, the humor not entirely lost on him. How had the two of them ended up being murderers and criminals? What had this town done to them? “Yeah. Right. Of course. I uh- let me get my act together, yeah? If we see your parents I can’t let them see me freaking out before I get the news about my parents. Do you mind if-” Rio trailed off, thinking about what he wanted to ask. He didn’t want to be alone, that much was obvious. But he didn’t want to say or do anything stupid in this moment of weakness and vulnerability. “I don’t want to sleep alone tonight.”

Shock didn’t quite come close to describing how Winston felt. But at least this was something that they could actually help with. This wasn’t like when Roland died. Or Celeste died. Or anyone else who had passed before Winston’s very eyes. This was a brand new problem but it was a problem that Winston had something that they could do something about and that in itself was the best news possible. At least for them. “Of course, you can take some time for sure and we’ve obviously got the drive over. I don’t want to sound callous because normally I’d want you to have all the time in the world for this but you can’t take too long because we do need to establish that alibi as quickly to their time of death as possible.” Winston was already vividly aware that they were a bit beyond the time of death already but they were trying to make everything work. “We can definitely share a room if you need to, I don’t want you to be sleeping alone either… not after everything that happened.”

Orion had been crying, but what for? He didn’t think he was mourning. He wasn’t particularly sad that either of them were gone. If anything, he felt relieved. He didn’t have to constantly look over his back anymore, always afraid that his parents would be lurking behind to finish the job they had started three years ago. Even if things went south and Rio was taken off to jail, at least he could rest easier knowing that James and Linda Quinn couldn’t hurt any innocent person ever again. Which meant he had to be crying for Winston’s sake, right? It was as if the realization pulled Rio back to reality. Just as suddenly as it had started once getting into the room, Rio’s tears stopped streaming down his face. In one last motion, Rio wiped the rest of them away. Though his eyes must be bloodshot and his face felt puffy, his voice no longer cracked when he spoke. “No. It’s fine. I’m fine. I’m going to pack a bag. We should take a blanket and some snacks and stuff with us just to make sure that it looks as legit as possible, probably.” Rio’s mind was already racing with anything that he could think of to make sure that this was as perfect as possible. He couldn’t have the story falling apart. This had to work. “Give me five minutes, okay? I’ll be ready to go.” He didn’t want to be anywhere without Winston right now. But he needed to get some things together before they left. “But good. Because I want to sleep with you” Rio said as he walked out of the room, only to pause a few steps out of the doorway and slide back to poke his head back in, “Um- I didn’t mean it like that. I want to sleep in bed with you. Not with you. I mean… I do want to sleep with you. Like when we’re ready or whatever. But tonight probably isn’t the best night for that” Or maybe this was the only chance Rio was going to get. But he wasn’t prepared to deal with that thought yet, “Uh anyways I’m going to pack now.”

Winston nodded. None of this felt weird. At the beginning of 2020 the very last thing that they would have imagined was that they would be in a position where they would have a boyfriend and that they would be helping this boyfriend cover up the murder of the parents. It was weird how things played out because at this exact moment Winston couldn’t think of a single thing that they would rather be doing or a single person that they would rather be helping. Orion of all people deserved Winston’s help and they were never going to leave him to take these things on themselves. “Yeah we should try and make this look legitimate,” Winston wasn’t entirely sure that this was going to be the most solid alibi, but they would be able to play with footage to make it look like there was other things going on then there were. Murder was a finnicky business and Winston decided that they needed to try to be involved in it as little as they possibly could. This level of stress couldn’t be good for their health. Of that they were certain. “I can grab a thermos and fill it with something too, that way we definitely won’t look all that suspicious.” Winston couldn’t help the dumb grin that crept across their face. “Uh, okay, well, you can definitely share my bed tonight, or yours, I don’t … where we sleep doesn’t matter.” Their heart rate was elevated. Their palms clammy. “We can talk about sleeping together when we’re not trying to … to cover up the mu-” Winston swallowed, these things were never easy at the best of times, “tonight isn’t the best night for it you’re right.”

Winston mentioned filling the thermos with something, the implied beverage making Orion immediately nervous. But it seemed like it could be a good idea that may be more believable. Rio’s twenty-first birthday had just ended a couple of hours ago. It would make sense that he may be celebrating it by drinking with the person he was dating. Besides, alcohol may help explain how he ended up spraining his wrist too. But it wasn’t enough to just claim that he had been drinking. Depending on how quickly the police discovered the body and got into contact with Rio, he may need to have alcohol in his system. He might actually have to drink tonight. “Yeah, good idea about the thermos. Maybe we should just bring a whole bottle.” The idea of drinking until he was at least semi intoxicated didn’t make the conversation about sleeping together any easier either. Of course, Rio would still find a way to insert his foot into his mouth on a night like this. He supposed he should be somewhat happy he hadn’t completely lost his sense of humor. Or his ability to embarrass himself. “Right yeah. Not the best night for sure.” To avoid any further embarrassment, Rio slipped down the hallway and into his room. The outfit he was wearing now was already a new one. One that he had gotten from his old closet at his old house when he had to get rid of the ones he had been wearing beforehand. Just to be safe, Rio changed again, slipping into newer clothes and then stuffing another outfit into a bag with anything he thought would be good for hiking. As he packed, he wondered how Athena was doing. She had always been so much stronger than him. She had the bigger stomach and she was fearless. But tonight she had looked like Rio must have looked all these years. She had done the unthinkable to two people she had idolized her entire life. For once, Rio had been the one that walked away from a bloodbath unscathed. He needed to check in on her tomorrow, once they heard the news. The last thing he needed was for her to completely lose it and give something away. Rio zipped the bag, shoving the thoughts of Athena down inside the bag with it and locking it away for the rest of the night. “I’m all set!” Rio yelled down the hallway, closing the door behind him and leaning against the wall in wait for Winston.

This was obviously a very bizarre situation and Winston was sure that Rio was doing his very best to cope with this in a healthy way. After all, they were nothing if not striving to be a normal and natural couple. Which normal couple didn’t murder their parents and try and help cover it up together? But Winston wasn’t going to let Rio take the fall for something that was definitely some form of self defense. This wasn’t premeditated and the supernatural world didn’t play by the same rules as the rest of the world. “A whole bottle is probably a better idea yeah,” Winston replied with a laugh, “maybe then it would be the best night- not that I need to be drunk to sleep with you, I’d happily sleep with you, I just, I didn’t know if you wanted to or if it was the right time and I just didn’t want to come off as the creep who tried to have sex with you after you’d kil- after what had just happened with your parents.” Winston swallowed, good moves all around. They were sure that this was really the sort of behaviour that got you brownie points with your boyfriend. Winston packed their own things quickly. Hoping that Rio realised that sex was definitely on the cards had he ever wanted it. It was just a matter of time right? Winston was trying not to worry about that too much right now. Grabbing the last of their things, Winston scooped up the telescope and made their way downstairs. “Yeah, I’m ready too,” Winston slipped out into the night and got in their car, “how are you feeling?” Winston asked, maybe now wasn’t really the time but they couldn’t help but worry about Rio. He may seem fine, but killing anyone was a tough thing to do. “I- I’m not sure that I get it - like how you’re feeling and why you’re feeling that, but I do want to help.”

Staring out the window, Orion only looked away when he heard Winston coming down the steps. With not much besides the conversation about intimacy on his mind, the two crept out of the house and into the car. The night was cold, but a welcome sensation against Rio’s skin. The fresh air helped clear out any daze or fog that had settled in his mind. He crawled into the passenger seat and cracked the window open, pulling his legs up so he was in a fetal position in the car. Winston wanted to know how Rio was feeling, but Rio didn’t know how to answer it without sounding completely insane. “I feel… Fine.” Rio finally shrugged. “I don’t know if I should be relieved or horrified. I don’t like that I did it. But I don’t regret it. I don’t wish I could take it back and I don’t miss them. I just feel calm.” Rio sighed, his heavy breathing was fogging up the window as Winston drove. Now more than ever he was sure what those tears were for earlier. He had prepared himself for the worst, already mourning the loss of his relationship and maybe his friendships too. But that wasn’t happening. Instead, Winston had shown even more that they were exactly who Rio was desperately in love with. “I can’t believe that we actually had the sex talk. On tonight of all nights” Rio laughed, changing the subject and glancing over at Winston. It was dark out, and there were little lights on in the car. But Rio didn’t need to light to see Winston. His vision let him admire them through the darkness. “I don’t know. I think I always assumed that it would never happen. That no one would ever care for me enough. Or if they did, they wouldn’t be willing to wait. Or maybe that no matter what, I just wouldn’t be able to accept intimacy because of everything. I didn’t think I’d ever be ready to hold someone’s hand or kiss someone. Let alone… y’know.” Rio found himself talking out loud in the car, filling the silence with his own deepest fears. That his entire life would be as lonely as the first twenty years of it had been. “But I did some of those things with you. And I want to do… all of those things with you.”

#wickedswriting #chatzy #c: winston #chatzy: winston #the next right thing #physical abuse mention tw #emotional abuse mention tw #death mention tw

13 notes · View notes