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vibraniumavenger · 1 month

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Collision

TW/CW: Car accident, injuries.

Pairing: Evan Buckley x Diaz!Reader

You smiled to yourself as you walked beside Christopher, your nephew. You had watched him in the morning while your brother was working, and Carla was attending an appointment. You didn’t mind though, you absolutely adored him, and he enjoyed spending time with you.

You had an hour to kill before dropping him off to Carla, and heading off to work yourself, so you decided to swing by the station to have lunch with the team. It was quiet when you arrived, indicating the team were on a call. You took it upon yourself to make lunch for everybody, knowing it would be a relief to them when they got back. Chris was sat at the table on his tablet, in a world of his own, allowing you to focus on the food. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as the sound of the shutters opening filled the station followed by heavy boots thudding against the floor as each firefighter jumped out of the truck. The footsteps got closer, the faint smell of smoke mixed with a familiar aftershave filled your nostrils and you instinctively lean back into the body that is now behind you as arms snake around your waist. “Isn’t this a nice surprise?”

You turn towards the voice, and smile, “Apparently, I can’t seem to stay away.” You lean up to kiss Buck, causing Chris to pull a disgusted face. This seemed to amuse Buck, and he kissed you again. Eddie appeared in the kitchen, and made his way over to his son, visibly happy to see him. “Come on guys, get a room.” You rolled your eyes playfully at your brothers comment, and pulled away from Buck.

You dished up the food for the team and took a seat, eager to hear about the call they had just been on. You listened intently as you ate, your complete focus on Buck as he spoke passionately about the call. Your heart warmed as you watched his face light up, he loved how much you genuinely enjoyed hearing about the calls, and how his day had gone. Chimney was the next to speak up, “It was a good call, except the part where Buck was playing hero and nearly got himself killed.” Bucks eyes widened and he turned to look at Chimney, giving him a look that immediately stopped him talking. Chimney, trying to help, began speaking again, “Don’t worry, it’s nothing out of the ordinary. It wasn’t any more dangerous than a simple call, the risk is always there. Besides, it was probably one of the safer times Buck tried to save the day, you should’ve seen him on the call last week.”

“Chim, stop talking.” Buck, who was now visibly on the spot, turned to face you. He studied your face, working out how to approach this. He opened his mouth to reassure you, but you beat him to it, “I thought we spoke about this…” Buck knew you understood that no day was guaranteed, and that saving people on calls was something he would always try to do, even if it put him at risk. He also knew that he had a habit of jumping the gun and putting himself in dangerous situations without thinking it through. “I’m sorry…”

You checked your watch, and stood up. “I just wish you’d be more careful, Buck.” Chris stood up and hugged Eddie goodbye, and you did the same. “Later bro.” You said goodbye to the team and walked back to the car with Chris by your side. The breeze hit you, and you took a deep breath. Maybe you were overreacting, maybe not but you just needed a moment. You helped Chris into the car and got in yourself, turning on the radio. The short ride to Carlas mostly consisted of Chris laughing as you sang along to the music, and the occasional conversation when Chris wasn’t overly engrossed in his phone. Carla was there to greet you when you pulled up on her drive, Chris was extremely excited and practically jumped out of the car to hug her. Carla gave you a hug, “Y/N, it’s so good to see you!” You smiled and hugged back, “It’s been a while, huh? Life has been hectic.” Carla laughs at this, “You’re telling me, your brother told me all about you and Buck. Moving in together? That’s a big step!”

“We were practically living together anyway, and if I’m being honest, Eddie is probably just relieved to have his couch back. I was starting to get on his nerves.” You explained to Carla, and she chuckled. “Well, I wish you all the best. I’m gonna get Chris inside, and I’ll let you run off to work. It was lovely seeing you.” You hug Chris goodbye and bid farewell to Carla before getting into your car and beginning your journey to your place of work. In front of you, the amber light turned to red and you stopped. You could see that traffic was beginning to build up on the other side of the junction, and you didn’t want to be late. You sighed, and made the decision to take an alternate route, so when the light turned green, you indicated and pulled out to begin taking your turning. You let out a sudden gasp before you could even properly register the car coming towards you. All you could do was attempt to brace for the impact, and so you did.

A loud crunching sound surrounded you, followed by the feeling of being thrown as your car was barrelled into. You closed your eyes tightly, scared of what was next. You didn’t have the courage to open them again until the car steadied. The first thing you could see was the airbag in front of you, despite not feeling it deploy moments before. You could smell the burning of the tyres, outside of the car, you could hear the panicked voices of bystanders, but all you could focus on was the blood that was now spread across your arms, unsure of where it was actually coming from. You weren’t in pain, at least you couldn’t feel any in that moment. Is that what shock feels like? You couldn’t think, but your eyes got heavy and you fought your hardest not to succumb to the darkness.

Back at the station, the call was only just coming in. The alarm blared throughout the station, alerting the team to the call. They were quick to jump into action, grabbing their gear and piling themselves into their assigned trucks. Eddie and Buck sat beside each other, speaking casually between themselves about what had happened earlier. “Just give her some time, she’ll come around. For her, two of the people she loves most are at risk everyday, you’ve gotta imagine it can’t be easy. It’s a risky job as it is, and when you put yourself into riskier situations without needing to, it decreases the chance of making it home at the end. She’s scared. Just talk to her.” Eddie attempted to reassure Buck, who was feeling terrible. He couldn’t shake the image of your face from his mind, the face that showed disappointment in his actions. Before Buck could respond, the truck halted and the team jumped out, ready to give help where needed. Buck stopped in his tracks as an all too familiar car was crushed before him. He tried not to panic, hoping that his suspicions were wrong. His eyes flicked to the number plate and his heart stopped. His feet were moving before his mind could catch up. He shouted your name, drawing Eddies attention. It took Eddie a few seconds to process what was happening. You had not long left the station, it couldn’t possibly be you. Right?

Buck arrived to your car first, nausea washed over him as he caught sight of your injured body. “Y/N? Hey, it’s me. I’m here.” You weren’t completely aware of what was happening, your eyes opened with a struggle. Your movements were weak as you turned your head to look at him. “Buck?” You spoke quietly, not completely aware of the situation at hand. “Don’t move, try and keep still.” He tried to remain as calm as he could, he didn’t want to scare you any more, he was terrified himself. Eddie ran right over to the car, his heart racing as he feared what he would find. His first instinct was to check the back seat, relief finally washing over him as he saw no sign of Christopher. Still, he needed to make sure, “Y/N, was Chris in the car?”

You shook your head, “Carlas.” Eddie felt a weight off his shoulders, knowing his son was safe. The weight soon came back when he saw the condition you were in. Your eyes rolled back, and you fell into unconsciousness. Bobby was running the scene, assigning Hen and Chim to medically assist you, and he grabbed the gear to support Buck and Eddie in freeing you from the car. Buck didn’t want to let go of your hand, but he knew he had to in order to get you out sooner. The team worked tirelessly, ensuring to be as careful as possible. Bobby handed the halligan to Buck, “Buck, you focus on getting the doors open. Diaz, grab the saw and be on standby.”

Buck groaned as he tried to pry the doors open, with no results, “Roofs too dented Cap, I can’t get it open.” Bobby nodded, and turned to Eddie, “Saws it is. Get in there Diaz, Buck, you too.” The roof was off in no time, Hen and Chim jumped straight in and equipped you with a neck brace, and got the back board in place to move you. Hen checked your vitals quickly, trying to make sure you were steady enough to be moved. “I’ve got a faint pulse, we gotta move.” They moved you out of you car quickly, and transferred you to the ambulance. “Trauma to the abdomen, possible internal bleeding. I’ll let the hospital know we’re en route.” Buck jumps into the back of the ambulance with Chimney, and instantly takes your hand in his. Hen places herself into the drivers seat, putting the ambulance into 911 mode and begins the journey as fast as she can to the nearest hospital.

Buck hated seeing you like this. He was filled with anxiety, the nausea constantly there as he studied your visible injuries. His heart sank with every second that went by, the more he thought about you laying there almost lifeless, expecting you to flatline any second now. “I’m sorry baby, we can’t leave things like this. I need you to get through this so I can apologise to you. I know I’m not the easiest person to love, and I also know that I’m the biggest pain in the ass, but I love you, and I need you. Please.” Buck sobbed as he held your hand tighter. Time seemed to be going extremely slow for Buck, yet moments later Hen was pulling up at the hospital. You were rushed in, Hen spewed all your information to the nurses as you were wheeled in and handed over. Buck, Hen and Chimney stood there as you were wheeled out of sight. One of the nurses stopped Buck from running after you, and he sat defeated in the waiting room. The rest of the team arrived soon after, Eddies face was similar to Bucks. Eddie spoke first, “Any update?” The lack of response from Buck had him on edge, fearing the worst. Luckily, Chimney filled the silence. “There’s no update, but no news it almost always good news.”

Eddie placed his hand on Bucks shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze before sitting down next to him. “How’re you holding up?” Buck didn’t look up, instead he kept his head in his hands. He couldn’t respond, he couldn’t trust his voice not to give out. His leg bounced anxiously, and despite not talking, his feelings were painfully obvious. Eddie could empathise, he knew exactly what was going through Bucks mind. It was happening to him too, but he concealed it as much as he could, knowing Buck needed him. “You know, each time we’re sat in these chairs, it never gets easier. You don’t have to talk, I get it. I think you should know that I’m right here for you, I understand. Y/N is going to be okay, that I have no doubt about. She’s my sister, and us Diaz’s, we don’t back down. We fight.” Eddie continues talking, and he’s not sure whether he’s trying to convince Buck or himself.

A few hours go by, and the team are waiting as patiently as they can for an update. Maddie had arrived some time ago, and was sat with Buck. She was not only there to support her brother, but also her brothers girlfriend, who Maddie had claimed as her best friend shortly after meeting her. Bobby hands a coffee to Buck and Eddie, who hadn’t moved from their seats since arriving. This changed moments later as a nurse approached, making them stand. Buck felt as if his legs were going to give way any second. The nurse cleared her throat, “She’s stable. She’s incredibly lucky to have made it out with the injuries she did, it could’ve been a lot worse. She’s awake, if you’d like to go see her.”

Buck didn’t stick around to hear whatever else the nurse had to say, he darted through the corridor until he got to your room. He stopped to take a deep breath, and stepped inside. He was scared to look at you, all he could picture was you covered in blood still. His head shot up as he heard a voice, your voice to be exact, “Buck?”

He was by your bedside in a blink of an eye, taking your hand in his. His eyes wandered over your body, taking in each of your injuries. His heart broke a little more with each one. He finally looked you in the eyes, and that’s when it hit him. His eyes filled up with tears, “Y/N…”

“Hey, don’t cry. I’m fine, see. I’m right here.” You gave his hand a squeeze, trying to give him the reassurance he needed. Buck took a seat close to your bed, your hand in his and against his lips. You move your hand up to his cheek and wipe his tears, Buck practically melted into your touch. “I really thought I had lost you.”

“I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere. I need to apologise for my reaction earlier, that could’ve been our last conversation earlier and left without saying goodbye, or telling you how much I love you.”

Buck shook his head, “You have nothing to apologise for, I’m the one that owes you an apology. I’m sorry that I’m not more careful when I’m out on a call, I shouldn’t be that reckless. I’m sorry that I can’t promise to walk through that door every night, safe and unscathed. I can appreciate how you feel now, and I promise I’ll try my hardest to be more careful. I love you, and I don’t want you ever feeling anything close to what I’ve felt today.” You wince as you sit up, making Buck panic. You push through the pain, and pull Buck to you. “Come here.” He stands from his chair and leans down to kiss you quickly. He carefully moves your hair from your face, ensuring he doesn’t touch any of your cuts or bruises.

“I love you too, and even though I’m petrified that you won’t make it home one day, I trust that you’ll try everything in your power to make sure you do. I’m proud of you, Evan.” As you spoke, Buck smiled to himself. A sense of relief washed over him. Before he could respond, you continued. “So… does this mean I can finally get a new car now?”

Buck chuckled, “You’re a pain in the ass, Diaz.”

“Takes one to know one, Buck.”

A/N: So, I think I rewrote this like 10 times. Its been a while since I've done any writing, so please bare with me while I figure out my writing style again. Any criticism is welcome, I appreciate the feedback.

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seresinhangmanjake · 6 months

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Jingle of The Bells

jake "hangman" seresin x reader

Summary: Your little girl is worried her father won’t make it home for Christmas.

Notes/warnings: this is the same family from the Oh, Baby universe, but it stands alone as well :) Mostly Fluff, a dash of angst.

This is for @sailor-aviator's Christmas Writing Challenge (my word is Bells)

Words: 2386

Your daughter was so much like your husband. You’d say too much if not for the fact that you loved them deeply. But there came a lot with their similarities. Double doses of determination, wit, and control. So, not unlike your husband, your little girl wanted to be the one to call the shots. However, circumstances didn’t always allow for that, and in those cases, Eve struggled the most.

---

“Mama, he’s supposed to be home!”

Eve’s arms were wrapped tight around your neck as her wails echoed in your ear. You held on to her snuggly, her little legs tucked into the open space between your criss-crossed seated position on the floor.

Until you’d joined her, she’d sat in the same spot all night, the teddy bear from her father settled in her lap as she stared at the front door. Despite the colored lights strung around your home, the pile of presents for her and her baby brother from Jake’s mother, grandmother, and team, and the cookies waiting to be decorated, Eve hadn’t moved.

Every five minutes she would ask you the time, and each answer you gave her broke your heart right along with hers. She was too young to remember that Jake’s return schedule wasn’t always a guarantee. You were used to not making plans on the day you were originally told your husband would be coming home to you because promises in his line of work didn’t exist. There were no promises he would be gone only as long as he initially believed, no promises he would return on time, no promises he would return at all. But for so long Eve was spared all of that. The one time she remembered her father leaving, he did manage to come back when expected. She had never faced that disappointment. Until now.

“Sweetie, it’s not Daddy’s fault,” you whispered. “I promise you he wants to be with us and that he’ll be home as soon as he can.”

“But it’s Christmas!”

Christmas Eve, actually, but to your daughter it was all the same. She had expectations. Cookie decorating, and milk pouring—a skill she’d asked Jake to help her perfect, not wanting to spill a drop for the reindeer. There was a letter she wanted to write to Santa, thanking him for bringing her Daddy home, which he had not, only adding to Eve’s bitterness. And it didn’t do her any good that before Jake left, she had also begged for a Christmas Eve pajama party where you all dressed in matching flannels, her baby brother included, and read a story before bed.

Jake had done his best to promise those things to Eve, and in the same moment, with a single look at you, had silently communicated the very real possibility that none of it might happen. You knew it, expected it, and didn’t blame him for it, but it didn’t change that your little girl was in pain and her father wasn’t by her side to make it go away.

“I know. I know, Sweetie,” you said, gently rocking her back and forth. But your soothing could only be so effective, and for the night, she wouldn’t be able to take much more. “I think it’s time for bed now.”

“Why?” came out nasally, her crying having stuffed up her nose.

“Because you’ve been up for too long. You woke up hours earlier than you usually do and you didn’t take your nap today.”

She pulled her head back from the crook of your neck to look at you, and you wiped away the salty liquid from under her lashes. “But what about Daddy?”

“Daddy will be home soon. He’s just a little late, but that’s ok.”

“It is not.”

“It is, Sweetie,” you said, your own tears forming and beginning to blur your daughter’s face. “He’s trying so hard to be here, and that’s what matters.” When one of them fell, Eve’s finger rose to meet the droplet as it slowed its descent down your cheek. You grabbed her hand and rubbed the tear off her fingertip. “Come on, let’s go lay down.”

This time, with exhaustion setting in, she didn’t fight you, but she did wiggle from your hold to stand up on her own. Then she used the last of her energy to rush over to the coffee table where the small set of jingle bells she’d been dangling in front of her brother’s face to elicit his giggles was lying. Jake had bought her those bells last Christmas and immediately regretted bringing such incessant jingling into his home.

Swallowing back your remaining tears, you watched as Eve wrapped her fingers around the velvet cord that kept the bells in a bunch before making her way into the hall and draping the cord over the knob of the front door.

You nodded and stood. Her tears were not quite dried, and you knew she was desperate to keep her eyes on that door, but she still took your hand when you reached out for her.

“I’ll tell you if I hear them,” you said before lifting her in your arms to carry her up to her room.

---

In her weakened fight against sleep, Eve failed. When you finally had her tucked in her bed, passed out and releasing soft snores, you returned to the living room where you wrapped yourself up in a blanket and stared at the flames dancing in the fireplace.

You did your best not to fall apart in front of your daughter, but Jake being gone ripped you to pieces as much as it did her. It didn’t help that his return was no less anxiety-inducing than his departure. The occasional unpredictability allowed your mind to wander to undesirable scenarios that, at this point, you knew weren’t likely, but the thought of them still terrified you.

Jake was fine, though. You believed it, knew it. He was safe. The next person to open that door would be him, it was just a matter of when, and hoping it would be before the holiday was over.

---

The clock had reached midnight only a handful of minutes before your eyelids grew heavy and begged to close. You fought sleep but, much like your daughter, reached your limit and succumbed. The consistent crackling of the fire combined with the warmth of the blanket lulled you slowly but effectively. It was too quiet and peaceful to resist, until a jingle clanged against another jingle which together thumped against something thick and solid.

Your body jolted as you heard a muttered “Why so damn loud?”

“Jake?” you called, tossing the blanket aside and running toward the door. He barely had his duffle on the floor and his key out of the lock when you slammed into him.

His arms were around you in an instant, slightly lifting you off the ground as his nose tucked into the crook of your neck. “God, you feel good,” was muffled in his deep voice, vibrating against your skin. His arms tightened. “So good.”

Your feet met the floor again, and with your hands on his cheeks, you guided his head back so you could press your lips to his. Your moan greeted his. Then you sighed into the kiss and melted further into his hold. No matter how many times you said goodbye, you were always relieved to find him the same as when he left. The feel of him, the taste of him, the chills you got when his hands wove into your hair—he never returned as anyone other than your Jake.

He gave you two more pecks, then one final long kiss before he broke it to breathe, allowing his forehead to rest against yours while his chest expanded and deflated and expanded again to take in the air you’d stolen. “I missed you, Honey.”

A tear forged a cold trail down the flush of your cheek and slipped into the seam of your lips. “I missed you, too.”

Jake pressed a kiss to your forehead before meeting your eyes. “How are the kids?”

“Needing you,” you said as he wiped away the wet river from your skin. “Eve thought you weren’t going to make it home in time.”

Knowing your husband, it took only the barest of shifts in his stance, his brow, his eyes, for you to see his heart was breaking right along with Eve’s. He turned his head toward the staircase that led to the bedrooms of your home, his daughter’s in particular.

Inching up on your toes, you softly kissed the line of his jaw and, somehow, for the first time, noticed he had a little bit of stubble. His last day or two must have been exhausting if he hadn’t gotten a chance to shave. Likely, everyone was in such a rush to get home to their families that some basic rules went out the window. Your kiss traveled up to his cheek.

“It’s ok, baby,” you whispered. “You’re with us now.”

“Did she cry?”

“She’ll forget all about it when she sees your face.”

Jake lightly hummed, unsatisfied with the state he’d forced upon his daughter. Without letting another beat pass, he took your hand, led you to your daughter's room, and eased her door open.

The glow emitting from Eve’s new plane nightlight—an early Christmas gift the Daggers had sent from overseas—highlighted her sleeping face, and her delicate features were so peaceful you’d never have known she was devastated a few hours prior.

When you had let her open the gift from the team, you of course told her who it was from right away with a huge smile splitting your face. She was so excited as she pulled at the bow and shredded the paper that she laughed louder than you had heard in quite some time. Her eyes went wide and she hopped up on her feet to fly the plane around the room. She giddily showed her infant brother—who received his own nightlight in the form of a train so the gifts would be unique to each child—before she plopped down on the carpet in your living room to examine every detail of the elaborately designed light.

And then she began to sob.

She sobbed for missing her daddy and aunts and uncles; for missing the many times Jake had taken his family to see the planes he flew, which closely matched the shape of Eve’s gift. She sobbed until you took her upstairs for bed, helped her plug in the light, and told her a story of her daddy seeing that plane and that train and immediately thinking of his baby girl and little boy.

That was only three weeks ago, and Eve’s angst had grown with the passing days. But the little light helped her rest at night as long as she completed her ritual of crouching down in front of the radiating glow and whispering a soft “goodnight Daddy” before settling into bed.

It did help for a while, but it didn’t cease the daily return of her tears. And this night, fairly so, was by far the worst. Her disappointment made the light its least effective since she’d received it.

Jake stepped into the room and took a seat at the edge of her bed. “I shouldn’t wake her,” he said as he brushed a blonde curl out of her face. From that light touch, Eve stirred, but then she stilled again, releasing a soft breath.

Your husband sighed right along with her. You knew how badly he wanted to wrap her up in his arms and hold her tight. He needed that. He could see her in front of him, and from those inhales and exhales, could hear her, and he could feel the soft curls of her hair, but nothing compared to feeling her little heartbeat beating against his, or hearing her sweet voice, or seeing her bright smile. That he’d have to wait for morning to truly greet his daughter after months away was an ache you would never know. Yes, you ached for him when he was gone, and you knew he did for you, but it just wasn’t the same. This was his child, a piece of him that he’d gone without for so long. It was a powerless feeling. She was right there, but being the father he was, Jake wouldn’t disturb her for his own sake.

Carefully, Jake leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Merry Christmas, baby girl.”

Your lips curved into a smile. “Would you like to go see our son?” Another one of his children that he’d undoubtedly refuse to disturb, no matter how much he wanted to see the little pair of eyes that matched yours staring up at him.

Jake nodded, gently squeezing Eve’s tiny hand. He was about to stand when you both heard a soft, “Daddy?”

Your heads whipped in Eve’s direction to find her fists rubbing at her eyes. Her eyelids fluttered as her vision adjusted to the darkness, but when she saw the darkened figure sitting by her side, Eve didn’t second guess herself. She kicked at her covers and leapt across the bed with the speed and agility of a bunny rabbit.

“Daddy!”

Jake chuckled as he caught her. “Hi, baby girl.”

Little hands reached up to his face to verify his realness. They ran up and down the scruff she’d rarely ever seen, making Jake’s cheeks contort in funny shapes, and then she grinned. “You came home.”

You couldn’t see all of Jake’s face, but you heard his sniffle as he tugged your daughter closer to his chest. “Of course, I did.”

“Mama said you would.”

“Well, Mama’s usually right, isn’t she?” he said, turning to look at you and confirming the redness that was brightening the green of his irises. He winked before returning his attention to his daughter.

Eve nodded vigorously then threw her arms around his neck, squeezing with all of her might. “I like Santa again.”

“When didn’t you like Santa?” Jake asked as he rubbed his hand up and down her back.

Eve pulled back. Her smile was still in place as she patted the tops of his shoulders with both hands. “Today," she said. "But you are home so he’s ok.”

---

A/N: so i have another christmas challenge fic coming that is Rooster x reader, which is my very first Rooster fic so hopefully I do alright. Then my focus will be on The One I Want and some Thorn (Expendables 3) fics :)

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @nani-kenobi @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @crowsreadsarahjmaas @mamachasesmayhem @sky2nd @eloquentdreamer @jessicab91 @rosedurin @novagreen04 @memeorydotcom @purplevortexx @sgt-barnesveins @books-are-escapes

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun hangman #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun #jake hangman seresin x y/n #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin angst #tgm #tgm fic #christmas fic

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puck-luck · 23 days

Note

this is so incredibly niche and specific but jack hughes is the type of man to want to join the mile high club with his gf when they’re literally on a plane with his entire family about to go on vacation together. that man is both sneaky and has no shame (and horny of course)

THIS? is hot.

"C'mon, people do it all the time," Jack says, wiggling his eyebrows at you and biting his lower lip. "There's a reason it's a club, baby. We wouldn't be the first to hook up in a plane."

"Jack Rowden Hughes," you hiss through your teeth. "Your mother is sitting in the row across from us."

Jack scoffs, rolls his eyes. He repeats your full name in the same tone. "And Luke is sitting right next to you, but I guarantee he wouldn't care."

"Your little brother is a bit different than your mother, Jack."

"She won't even notice we're gone," Jack promises, sticking his pinky out to link with yours. His other hand rests on your thigh, close to the junction of your hip. "Why don't you go ahead and I'll follow after you in, say, four minutes? That should give you enough time to get nice and open for me, since we have to be quick and all... hm?"

Your head moves into a nod before you even realize what you're doing. Jack Hughes has always had that effect on you. You're unbuckling your seatbelt and standing before Jack can retract his hand. It falls from your thigh and onto his lap, where you can see his bulge straining against the fabric of his shorts. He's lucky he chose to wear black today, because otherwise, it would be obvious to everyone.

Luke casts a perturbed glance at you as you squeeze past him, practically falling on his lap when you trip over his foot, or maybe that's just his face. Fortunately, he looks none the wiser to Jack's plot.

You make your way into the bathroom and press your back against the door, feeling lightheaded at the rush– in just a few minutes, you're going to have your boyfriend's cock inside of you, but thousands of feet off the air. The thought of it, how dirty it is to have sex in such a public yet confined space, makes you whimper. You press a hand to your mouth, trying to keep your noises inside so that you don't alert the other passengers or staff before the fun can even start.

Jack joins you with a knock to the door, one that he made up when you were sneaking around the lake house the previous summer. You unlock the door and let him in, and he's all over you. It could be due to the close quarters, but you choose to believe that even in a crowded room, Jack would be flush against you like this, using one hand to shove his shorts down just enough to pull out his cock.

He tears your fingers from inside you and replaces them with his cock before your face can even change to reflect your complaint.

He's thrusting into you, pushing you against the very weak door of the bathroom, and for a second you're worried about it rattling, until Jack grabs your hips and lifts you in time with his thrusts. You moan aloud, loud, and Jack's eyes flash with a warning. You shove your fingers in your mouth, the ones that were inside you just a few minutes ago, and whine at the taste of yourself. You suck on your fingers and stare at Jack, eyelashes fluttering with each hard thrust.

A look of determination clouds Jack's expression, bringing his eyebrows together in concentration. He pistons his hips into yours at an unreal pace, bringing you to climax in record time.

"Jack," You whimper, clutching at his hair.

"So close," He grits out, his pace never stalling. It only takes a few more thrusts until his release paints your walls, causing your muscles to jump with pleasure.

He pulls out of you and drags his fingers through your folds, sucking the come off of his digits. He pulls his shorts up and tucks himself away before kissing your cheek.

"Clean yourself up," he says quietly, pinching your side. "See you back out there."

When you return to your seat, Jack's got a wide smile on his face and Luke looks miserable. Luke won't make eye contact with you, but Quinn will– "Smooth," he mouths with a sarcastic nod.

You can feel yourself blushing and you hide your face in Jack's shoulder as soon as you've rebuckled your seatbelt.

#andy's asks🥤#jh blurb #jack hughes smut #andy writes anything🍄

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bones4thecats · 14 days

Note

Henlo! Could I request some headcanons where Cooler, Frieza, Android 17, and Gohan get the "If anything happens, I love you" message from their S/O? Maybe S/O was away for a little while before getting into a dangerous situation, but is found injured but alive.

Their S/O Gets Severely Injured

Characters: Cooler, Frieza, Android 17 and Gohan Requester: ❤️‍🩹Anon A/N: I now nickname you ❤️‍🩹Anon, since your prompt is about y’know… healing and whatnot. Anyways, this is my first Dragon Ball piece so I do not guarantee that they are all in character, so warning there I guess. By the way, in Gohan's piece, the reader is female since y'know... Pan and all. Now, enjoy, I guess!

••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●•

»»————————————- 　 Cooler　 ————————————-««

🧊 When Cooler first inherited his portion of his family's army, he wasn't amused with how small it was. But, when comparing his power to his younger brother's, it was understandable why it was so differentiating when it comes to size

🧊 Thankfully, his father, King Cold, was kind enough to give him the district that you, his darling S/O of many years, lead with a high amount of nobility and pride

🧊 Cooler has been away for a while when you were sent out by Frieza to cover a nearby planet and either gain their trust or completely annihilate them without any mercy. It was truly your call there

🧊 But, when he returned to see that you and your band of armored warriors were missing and have been for a few hours, Cooler began to become nervous. You were never gone this long when taking care of some minor business on Frieza, King Cold, or even Cooler's orders

" Lord Frieza! There seems to be a misreading! "

" What do you mean by a misreading? " Frieza questioned, a sense of annoyance and a very small amount of curiosity laced him his already pissy tone.

" It seems that the planet we sent Section 213 to is full of powerful fire-demons, much like us! "

" What?! "

🧊 After hearing this, your lover demanded to see your coordinates and send out another section, Section 89, out to find you and your teammates. And while his younger sibling attempted to reassure him of your team's power, Cooler merely pushed him aside and began to descend with Section 89 right behind him

🧊 Once landed, Cooler began to fight with the team following suite, knocking each beast aside with relative average stats. While it took on average two or three members per monster, they were taking care of them relatively quick

" Y/N? Y/N, where the hell are you?! "

" She's over here, Master Cooler! "

🧊 Running at a high-speed that could be compared to the super-saiyan's, Cooler stopped in his tracks when seeing your bruised and cut-up body. You had a large gash on the side of your stomach, and he could tell from a mere few feet away that you needed immediate medical assistance

🧊 Once returned, Cooler yelled for the healers to fix you. Though, it was hard for them to focus with both Frieza and Cooler glaring at them from behind. Frieza was only there because he couldn't afford to lose a powerful warrior and by-far one of the most talented fighters he had left after the battle on Namek

🧊 At some point, the doctor had to push the two outside, which was where Cooler stayed while tyrannical emperor left to sort out the rest of his ship from the chaos

" Master Cooler. Your S/O is all patched up. "

" And? "

" They will make it perfectly well. They'll just need a few days of healing. They're quite lucky. If they were a mere Yardrat or Tuffle they'd most likely be beyond any kind of help. "

" Good. Now, leave. I must see them for myself. "

" Understood. "

🧊 While he sat down in a seat right beside your medical bed, Cooler just sighed and ran a hand across your cheek, which had multiple cuts and bruises, not to mention a slight burn that reached from your chin to your forehead in a straight line. Oh, how awful was it on that damned planet?

🧊 You'll tell him when you wake up. Yes you will. But for now, Cooler can lay his head down on your bed and rest for a bit before you awaken form your long-overdue power-nap

••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●•

»»————————————- 　 Frieza　 ————————————-««

🏔️ Frieza has hated being in Hell for the many years he was wrapped up like a larvae becoming a butterfly or moth and sung to like a baby by cutesy-bears and fairies. Due to this, he had a ton of pent-up anger. Which, while he did not mean it, he had accidentally taken out on a small fraction of his army

🏔️ From this lose in members, Frieza had no choice but to send out one of his best teams; Team Y/N. Which just so happened to be led by his favorite soldier and his one and only spouse, Y/N

🏔️ Before you and your team evacuated to check for any signs of life on the now-destroyed and bare wasteland that was once a prosperous land, you had left a solid message for your husband. One that he would forever regret not telling you in person

" If anything happens, I love you? That cheesy moron... "

" As if you are any better, brother. "

" Shut it, Cooler! "

🏔️ You and your team had just barely landed when one of them was snatched away with stupendous speed. This kind of speed was alarming to you and your underlings, causing a couple of them to panic and get snatched themselves

🏔️ Meanwhile on the ship, a fairly-rounded serving demon was observing the life-monitors that laid within each Frieza's Force member's body. And once he noticed the way they were immediately falling like flies, his tail feathers erupting and knocking his chair back, alarming his Highness

" What is going on down there?! " Frieza barked.

" Team Y/N is getting pummeled, killed even! We need to send people down there- now! "

🏔️ Frieza stood abruptly and ordered for the guards to follow him, after all, backup is necessary almost wherever the dangerous man went. Especially when it came to the safety of his lover

🏔️ Once landed, the sight of four out of the seven members of your team being impaled on the elongated tongues of horrifying and demonic-appearing beasts caused the Emperor of the Universe's heart to start racing. You better not have been harmed!

🏔️ The male raised his hand and sent a large beam of energy soaring at the monster, causing it's tongue to come flying off of it's mouth. The smell from it's blood was rancid, but if smelling this meant that you would be safe, then so be it

🏔️ You were located a mere few feet away, hiding behind a large boulder structure by Frieza. And once he picked you up, he rushed back to the ship, his men and yours following as they sent many beams at the creatures as they attempted to follow suit

🏔️ Back on the ship, Frieza sat in his room as the doctor healed you up. While he would love to be there for his dearest, the sight of their beaten and bloody body was by-far the only thing keeping him away from the Cui-copy's work

🏔️ The sound of his door being knocked on made him stand and ready himself, putting on his cool and composed facial expression before opening the door, ready to scold and possibly punish the soldier for daring to interrupt the most powerful being in the ship. How he would do so was already pulsating through his mind

" What is it you want? I am clearly in the middle of business. "

" Wow, you're seeming extra nice today. Are you sad I was hurt by that behemoth of a beast? "

🏔️ A small crack of his voice was heard as Frieza opened his eyes to see you standing there with a highly-functional mechanical cast around your leg, a small amount of pre-obtained energy holding your leg up and behind you in a position as if you were kneeling on one side

" Y/N... Why aren't you healing in the medbay?! I was about to come visit you! "

" Uh-huh. C'mon, the doctor said I needed to fix up my other leg's walking anyways! " Sarcasm was highly detecatble in your tone, causing Frieza to be slightly annoyed. Why are you being so calm?!

" That doesn't matter- "

" Yeah, yeah. Anyways, you got any wine back there? "

" W-what?! By what I remember, taking in alcohol, no matter the kind, with medication could cause someone to... overdose, if I remember correctly. "

" Aw~ Are you still worried about me?~ "

" S-shut it! Just- get in here already... you're a pain. "

••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●•

»»——————————- 　 Android 17　 ——————————-««

🐈‍⬛ This guy knew how dangerous this Tournament was, so why was he now just wondering why the enemy was being so tough on you, it was obvious that you were beaten, so why was he continuing?!

" Hey! He's going to far! "

" Y/N, hang in there! "

🐈‍⬛ Everyone's calls were only enraging your husband even farther as he fought against another Universe 5 fighter while you dealt with the other two dogs

🐈‍⬛ The yellow one, Lavender, has thrown so much of his poisonous energy at you that it was beginning to make your joints slow down, which alarmed the rest of your teammates. Hell, even Frieza was nervous at the sight- you had the amount of power that could level up to defeat him!

" Why you damned wolf! "

🐈‍⬛ Holding your hand up as you canceled out every sound around you, the slight movements of feet with fur and claws was the only thing you would allow through. This meant you would be able to both dodge and hit the remaining beast-men back with ease

" Take this! "

🐈‍⬛ Gripping his hand in yours, you could feel the poison rush through your body, but the feeling was numb to you, the amount of venom in your system seemingly muted out anymore seeping through your thick-skin

" Wait, what the hell?! "

🐈‍⬛ Android 17 smirked and jumped up before kicking the blue wolf, Bergamo, in your direction while you powered a whip of energy before wrapping Basil and Lavender up as you twirled them around and threw them away, grabbing Bergamo on the way as they soared back and off the edge of the field, resulting in a Universe 7 win

🐈‍⬛ 17 ran up to you and wrapped his arms around you before you were teleported back up to your teammates for a small intermission granted by Zeno upon Goku's request

" What were you thinking? "

" About the survival of our home, and our family. "

" And while I appreciate that, Y/N, you must be more careful with your limits. I don't need another Goku around. "

" Hey! "

🐈‍⬛ Hearing you chuckle as Whis laid his staff on your forehead before booping you and releasing your body of the poison's affects made your husband smile gently and hold you close as Universe 7's angel chanted with an 'all better now!'

" Don't you ever scare me like that again, you hear? "

" Nope, you forgot a couple of things in that sentence there, mister. "

" Why you... alright. Please don't ever scared me like that again. I love you to much for that to happen. "

" That's better. "

🐈‍⬛ While you laid your foreheads upon one another's, the sound of Goku and Frieza gagging in the back caused you to laugh as 17 just sighed like a disappointed father

••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●•

»»————————————- 　 Gohan　 ————————————-««

📚 Unlike his father, Gohan was primarily focused on his work and studies growing up. Putting his training behind for helping his family of his wife, Y/N, and his young daughter, Pan, prosper in life

📚 You on the other hand, adored to fight. As you were raised by your favorite person on Earth, who also just so happened to be a fellow descendant of the Three-Eyed People, Tien Shinhan

📚 As Pan grew older, you would help Piccolo and others train her, teaching her valuable lessons in minor training for her human-side while Piccolo handled her more alien side, which came from your husband

📚 Gohan knew that sometimes you would go out and about with his father's old friends in order to handle some ordeals, and with you being one of the strongest human fighters in their current time, you were practically required to attend

📚 As you kissed your daughter's forehead and gave your husband the tightest hug known to the half-blooded Saiyan, you gave him a final message until you returned a few days later

" If anything happens, I love you. "

📚 If anything happens? How far away were you going this time?

📚 While it was quite a hassle balancing his job and caring for Pan by himself, Gohan was grateful to have both his mother, Chi-Chi, his sensei, Piccolo, and his childhood friend, Videl, all there to help out once and a while

📚 He couldn't wait for when you would come home. Counting down the days with fun dinners for him and his daughter as the calendar was decorated with cute little stickers from Videl

" Hey Papa? Why does Mama look so beaten up? "

" She probably- wait she looks what?! "

" She has a big cut on the side of her face. It looks like it's bleeding a lot! "

📚 Gohan opened the front door of your home and picked you up quickly before rushing inside and running towards the bathroom to find your first-aid kit. Well, one of the many you had around the house

📚 Pan looked worried as you picked her up and laid her on your lap, brushing your hand through her hair as she sniffed and began to allow tears to bulge up in her eyes. You never liked to see your daughter in any kind of distress, especially emotionally. Physical scars can heal, but emotions are far harder to fix

" Mama, where did you get the cut...? "

" Let's just say... Mama got into a fight with some bad people and Mama kicked their butts. "

" Really? What were they like? Were they s... sai... "

" Saiyans? "

" Yeah! Were they Saiyans like Papa? "

📚 As Gohan walked back into the room with gauze being prepared in his hands, he saw just how comfortable Pan asked you questions while you avoided the topic of exactly who you fought and what happened on that planet miles away

" Y/N, can you please lift your headpiece up? "

📚 You did as your husband asked as you laid your thick head piece on the side, it was cracked from some force coming from your now deceased enemy, but it was nothing that Bulma couldn't fix!

📚 While Gohan bandaged up your head and arms, Pan asked both you and him questions of the days back when you both fought side-by-side. And whenever you mentioned him singing with the old dragon, Icarus, his face erupted in a mix of pink and red

📚 Why was your memory so damn good...

" Can I hear the song? "

" I don't think Piccolo would like to be reminded of that... again... "

" All the more reason to do it! "

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rachetmath · 3 months

Text

Jaune's Last Man

(Hi sorry this has been my head and I completely forgot about this so let me end this with a kicker. A rap you may say. If you need a recap or you don’t know what this is about....he links here.;

Part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/rachetmath/681709097493659648/ilia-blake-i-want-to-come-with-you-blake-ilia?source=share

Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/rachetmath/683991434179805184/can-we-please-get-a-sequel-to-the-post-about-jaune?source=share

Part 3: https://www.tumblr.com/rachetmath/688883250974916608/so-i-know-ow-you-said-you-dont-normally-do?source=share)

Jaune: Mercury.

Mercury: Vomit Boy. How’s it hanging?

Jaune: I’m doing fine.

Mercury: Really? I mean since you killed your friend. Your girlfriend dead. And Atlas. I would think you be in a site of depression.

Jaune: Yeah. Except I’m in state of rage.

Mercury; Oh.

Jaune: I mean I haven’t seen my family in years to where I can barely remember their faces. I watched thousands of innocent people die. I was betrayed by someone I wanted to call friend. All because of my stupidity.

Mercury: Wow finally admit it. You don’t know what your doing.

Jaune: Still don’t… but I’ll take my chances.

Mercury: So what are you going to do torture me.

Jaune: Haha no. Of course not. Ladies.

Neo and Ilia walks into the room. Neo before she took a seat on the table, she gives Jaune a kiss on cheeks while Ilia a has weapon to Mercury’s neck. Mercury was still shocked with Neo.

Jaune: Alright. Let us begin. I’m here to make a deal.

Mercury: A deal?

Jaune: You bet. I want you on my team.

Ruby: What?

Jaune: Yes.

Mercury: Why?

Jaune: We need someone like you on our side. Guys like you come in very short supply.

Mercury: That doesn’t give me much of a reason. Why should I give you allegiance?

Jaune: I’m willing to give something that can’t refuse.

Mercury: Please, your not even giving me a right to choose.

Jaune: *sigh* Ilia.

Ilia removes her weapon and sits down.

Jaune: Fine, I’ll play by rules. Look, I understand. Your father he was bad man. But brother he’s dead.

Mercury: I know.

Jaune: I know it was by own hands. I get it wasn’t easy but you fail to get-

Mercury: Is?

Jaune: That you can be better. So much clever. Do really want to stay in his shadow forever?

Mercury: Please. Who are you to judge me? If I recall correctly didn’t you cheat. You went to a school filled with talent. With nothing to show but empty promises and values. You talk a big game but you can’t measure up. Face it bud, your only here because of luck.

Jaune: …. ….

Mercury: Got nothing to say. Guess the fun is over. No more debates. I guess I’m done now prison await. Besides Salem offered me world on a plate what’s better than that?

Jaune: Okay, little man, so what’s your plan?

Mecury: What?

Jaune: Yeah, little man, what’s you plan?

Mercury: I mean-

Jaune: What’s your plan? Tell me, little man, what you gone do when you got the world in your hands? You get all money and get some respect. You make yourself sound like you really are a threat. Yes its true, your right about me. I did what it took to follow my dreams. But now look at me. I am all three. Money, Power and respect. A threat guaranteed. I lost many people but yet I still breath. Yet I still believe in what we can achieve.

Mercury: … … …. What are you saying to me?

Jaune: We’re nothing like them.

Mercury: What do you want from me?

Jaune: Show me your bravery. Leave it all BEHIND and make history.

Mercury: But I-

Jaune: You’re nothing like him.

Mercury: I’m-

Jaune: You can still be better.

Emerald: *burst in door* And if your not sure we can explore it together. We’ll have each other.

Jaune: And if you believe-

Mercury: Believe?

Jaune: In yourself.

Emerald: And me.

Jaune and Emerald: There’s nothing you can’t achieve.

Mercury: Really?

Jaune: Right.

Emerald: You can fly. Again. Sore the sky. Again.

Jaune: Away from sun. Together with us. We can make history. Forge our destiny. Our story will be legendary. So-

Jaune: *pulls his hand out* What do you say?

Mercury: Hmm. Well-

Jaune: Yes, you will paid.

Mercury: And?

Jaune: Yes, come man, what do you say?

Mercury: *shakes Jaune’s hand* Alright you got a deal compadre.

RWBY: Dang.

Oscar: They went play by play.

Nora: So Jaune? Tell us, what’s now the team’s name?

Jaune JMNI. What do you all think?

Mercury: I got say, it’s got nice ring to.

Ilia: I accept the team name. No mistake.

Neo: *agrees with smile*

Jaune: Guess we agree. But before we celebrate we have demonstrate, how useful we are, leave no trace to debate. So let’s start on our first case. What do you say?

Mercury, Ilia and Neo(with a sign): Bring it.

Jaune: Oh this will be great.

Nora: Can we stop rhyming.

#rwby #jaune arc #ruby rose #yang xiao long #weiss schnee #lie ren #nora valkyrie #blake belladonna #emerald sustrai #ilia amitola #rwby neopolitan #mercury black #team jmni #team nero #nero #jmni #oscar pines

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gumnut-logic · 5 months

Text

Found this Scott and Em Harris 'discussion' on my hard drive.

Em Harris is an OC from Gentle Rain.

Language warning for this as she is not happy at all.

-o-o-o-

“I’m just trying to keep you from dying! Don’t you see that? I care about you and you are the last person I ever want to see dead out there, so just fucking listen to me for once!”

Scott blinked at the fire in her words. He would have taken a step back, but he was held by his seat in One, its safety harness and back preventing him from moving an inch away from the fury of his wife.

Em hovered in front of him, the white of her medical baldric glaring at him. It had stains. Some identifiable, some not so much. But all of which he wished he could have protected her from.

But he couldn’t.

Because she was who she was and there was no way he could hold her back from helping people any more than he could himself. If there was one thing they both shared, it was that.

Her determination was what made her so beautiful.

“Emaline-“

“No!” She held up a hand. “You don’t get to speak after a stupid stunt like that. All you had to do was wait for Virgil.”

“There wasn’t time!”

“Another thirty seconds, Scott! If Virgil hadn’t caught you, YOU WOULD BE DEAD!” Her pale blue eyes electrified with a mixture of fury and fear. “I almost lost you! For no reason!”

“A life was saved!”

“Virgil nearly missed the both of you! He has enough bruising from his leap off that cliff after you to inspire his next painting. Kay is going to kick your ass, flyboy.”

Scott swallowed. Kayo he could handle, but he hadn’t realised Virgil had been hurt. “Is Virgil okay?”

Em sighed and looked down a moment before looking him in the eye. “No. No, he is not. You owe him an apology.”

As if he was aware of his name being mentioned, Virgil’s calm voice issued over comes. “Thunderbird Two departing danger zone. Transporting injured to Capetown Medical and returning to base.”

The line cut out before Scott could reply. The lack of personal address or even his callsign was enough to illustrate exactly how much shit he was in with his brother.

“Scott, please.” And suddenly the anger in her voice was gone. “Why? Why is your life not worth as much to you as it is to me?”

She wasn’t crying, but there was so much grief in her voice, he had to reach out and pull her to him.

There was resistance at first. She was as stubborn as she was determined to the point of the words being synonyms. But then, as light as she always was, he drew her into his arms, hoverscoot rising at an angle and their baldrics clattering as they met. Her head landed on his shoulder and he held her there, stroking the nape of her neck where her hair bun left it bare.

“I’m sorry.” It was an exhalation.

“Please don’t do that again.” It was muffled into his uniform.

“Em, you know I can’t guar-“

It was exactly the wrong thing to say. She flung herself backwards, pulling away. Practised reflexes let her go out of respect, but he grabbed at her again. No!

She didn’t let him reach her, her hoverjets humming almost as angrily as her expression.

“No, Scott Tracy, you can guarantee. You can tell me that you will wait. You can tell me that you will consider. You will tell me that you trust your brothers’ knowledge and experience. And you can tell me that I am important enough in your life for you to not give up that life in a situation that can be easily avoided.” She drew in a breath. “If you can’t value your own life enough yourself, then value it for me.” A breath. “I love you, Scott…please.”

Every rule, every philosophy, every self determination screamed at him to deny her. The thought of putting his life above others was anathema. But his strategic mind flipped the equation without permission and he saw his actions from her point of view.

His brain listed off his abilities, how he should have been able to handle the situation safely.

And how it had all gone so far south so quickly, and how only the quick actions of his engineer brother had prevented a very long plummet down a very high cliff.

His first thought had been gratitude and admiration for his brother’s skill and the fact the rescue was a successful one.

He didn’t register Virgil’s grunts as anything other than simple exertion. Now looking back, now he didn’t have his arms full of terrified rescuee, he could take a moment to examine exactly what had happened.

Virgil hadn’t said a thing.

He had rappelled them back up the cliff. It had been all business and as the adrenalin had waned, Scott had just felt tired. Em took the rescuee into Two and after a silent scan with Virgil’s mediscanner, Scott had returned to One.

It was just another rescue almost gone wrong.

Virgil had just saved the day…again.

What if he had waited? Would the man have fallen?

His heart feared what would have happened if he did. That was why he had jumped himself despite the fragility of the rockface.

He looked up at his beautiful wife. “I don’t know if I can stand by and risk a death I can prevent.”

Her lips thinned, but her eyes were sad. “Neither can I.” She drew in a breath. “Commander Scott Tracy, as Lead Medical Officer of International Rescue, I’m citing you for reckless self-endangerment and recommending psychological review.”

His eyes widened. “What?”

“I can’t lose you, Scott.” Little more than breath. “Not like this.

“I just can’t.”

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #virgil tracy #em harris #gentle rain #scott/em #scott/oc #virgil/kayo #but only background

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sassyfrassboss · 11 months

Note

I do think Harry is a much more involved parent...

Sorry but based on what tho? He stays in hotels hours away and admitted it himself in Waaagh that he was an absent parent. Whenever he mentioned the kids he came across as not knowing anything about kids like when he said that a 6 month old Archie was admiring the scenery in Vancouver lol Kids are a lot of work and he's lazy and probably gets bored after spending 15 min with them.

So I don't get why it's assumed that he's a more involved parent and frankly why people even want him to be. This is a guy who fantasized about blowing up his father and seemed to be high all the time in his book and you just know that in reality his drug use is likely to be much worse. He beat up his bodyguards and abused animals and allegedly sex workers. He's filled with so much resentment and hate for his family that it's pretty much guaranteed that he'd poison those kids too with it. He didn't care about their safety when he boasted about killing the Talibans. This guy is an unstable, violent, hateful and reckless drug addict. He's utterly unfit to be a parent. She could v well be worse but so far there's nothing factually to assume that he's a better and more involved parent.

The better scenario for the kids in the circumstances would probably be a benign neglect by their parents with a loving nanny raising them instead.

On that note, and generally speaking, I see it all the time - people assuming that he's somehow better than her just because - and it frankly amazes me at this point. He's not and is arguably worse since it's his family that they've been abusing and trying to destroy and the way he had treated his grandparents in their final years is just unconscionable and frankly unforgivable imo. But people can't seem to get away from his old PR-created persona even when it has since been revealed to be a mirage and make the assumption based on that. But it just shows how much better and more successful a con man he is than her for whom it takes all 5 min for most people to see thru. Remember how he smirked when he said that people didn't know the real him in an interview years ago? Yeah. Even now many seem willing to get conned yet again and think that somehow the good lad Harry will be back after deprogramming once she's gone.

And that's one of the reasons why I don't want them to divorce. I have no doubt that most of the now anti Sussex crowd (and the media ofc) will turn around and be back to babying this asshole and blaming it all on her. And I believe he knew that he could always count on that when he married her and that's why he's the worst. He's weaponized her against those who had done nothing but cared for him while also using her as a shield and to whitewash himself and will use her as a scapegoat in the end cos it's what he always does. He never takes responsibility for anything in his life and that's why he's unredeemable. He doesn't deserve all that goodwill and it's utterly wasted on him since he will undoubtedly squander it all again after a while like he always had cos the problem is and has always been him. And the problem with him is that he's a viscious asshole who doesn't a damn about anyone other than himself. And his problem -- the main reason for this saga -- is his deep-seated envy and futile desire to best his brother, the outcome of which had already been decided the moment they were born.

SORRY for the long rant lol

Don’t be sorry!

I do see all of your very valid points.

I just think that he is more likely to be more involved because of how little she is involved.

Harry has so so so many faults and issues. Between his jealousy and stupidity…

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sotwk · 1 year

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A Stab to the Heart - Part One (Thranduil, OC Wife + Sons fic)

Summary: The Elvenqueen is caught in the first orc attack to occur in the Woodland Realm in centuries. King Thranduil gathers his sons to discuss the incident and what they intend to do about this unexpected new threat.

Word count: 1.7k

Content: Angst, brief/mild mentions of violence, family relationships and drama, angry Thranduil

Warnings: None

To Read on AO3: Link

Dedication: For @ethuil-flower, in response to her request for a Drama/Angst Thranduil fic, with some action thrown in featuring the Elvenqueen. I ended up including the princes heavily in this, and the idea just grew so much that it requires a Part Two. I hope it fulfills what you wanted! :)

Divider credit: @firefly-graphics

A Stab to the Heart - Part One

Third Age 1012 January

Bâr Lasgalen, Home of the Elvenking

The Woodland Realm, Greenwood the Great

It was the ugliest piece of weaponry Mirion had seen in a long time, perhaps in all his years. He could not stop staring at it: a crude dagger with dull edges and a misshapen point, its thick hilt wrapped in cords of fraying rope. The offensive sight of blood had been washed from the blade, but he could still smell it, taste the iron on his tongue. Each one of them could, as much as they were all trying to ignore it as they lingered about the round table where the knife rested at the very center, like a criminal on trial.

As soon as they received the King's summons, each one of the princes had dropped everything to make haste for the Greenwood capital. Legolas had the misfortune of being all the way in Lorinand, attending one of King Amroth’s winter festivals, and so he had the greatest distance to travel. Mirion knew his brother’s desire to ride hard would surpass the strength of his horse, so he sent out guards to meet him at the Ningloron with a fresh mount. For all these efforts, the youngest prince still arrived hours after the rest of his brothers, and already a full day after the incident had occurred.

There had been muttered greetings when Legolas finally entered the council chambers, still in his soaked travel cloak and boots. The King merely raised his eyebrows and said in a tone sharper than the biting winds outside, “Once Arvellas returns, we shall begin.”

All five gazes darted to the door before Arvellas even walked through. Calm as ever, the prince shut the door behind him and said quietly, “She has eaten and gone back to sleep.” His keen, gray-blue eyes went specifically to the King. “The wound shall heal without a mark, your Grace. I guarantee it.”

No physical mark, anyhow. Turhir’s grim voice nudged its way into Mirion’s thoughts. The eldest son gave a stern shake of his head, and sensed his brother shrug in response.

The King rose from his seat by the hearth and approached the round table. With two long fingers, he plucked the filthy dagger off the solid oak surface. “Map,” he ordered.

The five brothers joined their father around the unfurled scroll, an enormous and highly detailed charting of their vast forest territory.

"Where exactly did it happen?" asked Legolas.

"Here.” Mirion tapped on an unmarked spot by the western edge of the Narrows. "Roughly twenty miles north of the old fort."

"I passed through that area around the start of harvest.” Legolas frowned as he searched his memory. “I do not recall seeing any settlements in the vicinity."

“They arrived and built their shelters just before the first snows began,” Mirion moved his forefinger to trace a line across the map. “Their faction splintered off one of the Woodmen communities east of the Bight, over some disagreement or the other. A small group, no more than a hundred Edain.”

"It was our boar hunters who chanced upon them about a month ago,” Gelir continued. “They thought it wise to refrain from engaging until the matter was brought to the crown. They reported all that they saw to me, in good detail, which I then relayed to Ada and Ammë…" He glanced over at his father and faltered. But throughout the princes’ exchange, the King persisted in his cold silence, fixated solely on the blade resting on the open palm of his hand.

"The Queen wished to initiate first contact herself,” Arvellas finally said. “Scouts were sent beforehand of course, but the moment they determined it was safe, she immediately set out with supply wagons." The taut lines on his face softened momentarily. "She learned they were short on food for winter. They were already going hungry."

"What of her escort?" Legolas asked, before the answer to his own question dawned on him. "She did not take the Queensguard?"

"She deemed it unnecessary since she wasn’t traveling very far from our borders," Arvellas replied, the anguish returning to his face. "The scouts reported there were small children in the settlement. She did not wish to frighten the families by arriving with armed guards. She went without any regalia."

"No soldiers?" said Legolas in disbelief.

"She took four," Turhir rumbled in a sudden growl. "A dozen workers--cooks and builders and nurses, but only four swords."

A bleak silence descended upon the room following these words, as each prince simultaneously envisioned the scene in their heads, their beloved mother being ambushed by savage orcs, protected by fewer guards than she had sons. Mirion knew just the very idea of it sickened them all to their stomachs.

The Crown Prince glanced over at the King again and found that he still hadn't moved, still remained wordless. But they all understood that the Queen would never have traveled under such conditions without leave from her King.

"She cannot do that again," Turhir continued, his frustrations boiling over unabated. He passed a tightly clenched fist across his mouth as a strangled laugh escaped him. “Legions of highly trained warriors at our disposal and she insists on taking the greenhorns, the unbloodied, as her shield. Yes, we give Ammë all the concessions she desires, but this is one folly we should have never condoned!”

Although Mirion cringed at his brother’s harsh tirade, none of them were likely to disagree with Turhir’s words. Over the years, their mother had indeed made a habit of rotating the guards assigned to her escort, claiming it was an added opportunity to foster bonds of loyalty. But she also favored the newer recruits, with the softer reasoning that it would give their young soldiers self-confidence and pride.

"She had no reason to believe it was dangerous," Mirion said quietly. “Safety protocols were observed, and she had done this same trip, similar outreaches, countless times in the past. The orc raid was without precedent.”

"Yet also, Ammë was able to defend herself,” Gelir interjected. When they all turned to stare at him, he raised his hands defensively. “Or are we going to ignore that? She killed a number of them before they caught her off-guard. Using a butcher knife. She can fight!"

"What does that matter?!” Turhir snapped. “The Taubereth should never be forced to raise a weapon to defend herself! She did not birth five of us just to suffer indignity such as this!"

“And the proposed solution is to curtail her freedoms. Is that what I am hearing?”

The King spoke at last. At his first utterance, the princes were silenced. Their gazes fell prostrate as their father’s glare stormed over them in turn, before locking on his second-born.

“Surely you are not laying blame on the Queen for this incident.” He tilted his head in a challenge. “Or does the fault lie in your King?”

“No, your Grace,” Turhir mumbled. After the briefest of pauses, he lifted his chin and squared his shoulders, continuing, “The Queen’s safety is all our responsibility.”

“That much we agree on.” The King faced the table again and made a sweeping gesture over the map. “This is our land. Our Queen should be able to travel through it freely without fearing for her safety, or else we have failed our charge. I will not have her restricted or cowering behind shields. But this--!”

His voice rose sharply as he thrust out the orc knife in his hand. “The wretched filth drew your mother’s blood. Never again!”

He slammed the dagger into the table, driving the entire length of the blade into the wood with such force, all five of the princes flinched. “Never. Again.” The King hissed, overwhelmed with a rush of ferocity that made him visibly shake.

“Your Grace.” Mirion swallowed hard in the face of his father’s wrath. "There is none here that would not lay down his life for Ammë,” he said, as his brothers nodded their agreement. “But we can only protect her from dangers we know. We need to learn where those orcs came from, and how they managed to catch us unawares."

“Over five hundred years,” the King muttered. “It has been at least that long since The Deceiver’s vermin was last sighted in our realm. If remnants survived and have started to breed once more nearby…”

He rested his hands on the table surface and reflected stonily on the map of his kingdom.

"We will scour the lands,” he said darkly. “Search every inch, flush out every corner and give no chance for those roaches to grow their numbers. We shall take no rest until the forests are guaranteed to be clean."

The King and princes commenced poring over the map together and outlining strategies. After about an hour of this intensely focused work, the King abruptly stopped mid-discussion. He raised his head and his eyes glazed over as though he had been drawn to the calling of a far-off voice.

"She is awake." He immediately started for the door as he called back to his sons. "Continue amongst yourselves. I will hear your proposals when we resume at dawn."

They all relaxed and breathed a little easier after he left to attend the Queen. It took Turhir both hands and all of his strength to wrench the orc hilt free from the table; the ruined steel snapped and left half of itself lodged in the cracked wood. Mirion sank into a chair for a moment of peace while his brothers paired up to trade stories.

In his idle listening, the eldest prince took the most interest in the conversation between Legolas and Gelir.

"Consider yourself fortunate,” Gelir told their youngest brother. “That you missed the first few hours after they brought Ammë back and the healers worked on her."

Legolas grimaced. "Were her injuries so terrible?"

"It is Ammë,” Gelir said bitterly. “Even the smallest bruise upon her is unacceptable, so yes! It was unbearable to see her in such a state. But there was still something even worse than that…"

Mirion already knew what Gelir was referring to, before he completed his sentence. He’d seen it too, something he had never witnessed in his life and truly wished never to behold again. Except he knew he would never be able to scour from his memory the look on the King’s face when he pulled his bleeding, barely conscious wife into his arms.

"We saw Ada frightened."

Thranduil Taglist: @aduialel

A/N: Part Two is in the works and will be posted soon! Please stay tuned, and thank you for reading!

For more stories and/or info about the sons of Thranduil, please see: My Masterlists

#thranduil oropherion #thranduil #thranduil fanfiction #king thranduil #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit #lotr fanfiction #legolas #legolas fanfiction #thranduil wife #sotwk fanfiction #sotwk

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hereforthefanficsandromance · 4 months

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The Way He Looks at You Series II:V

Act II: The Way You Look at Him Chapter 5: The Way You Frustrate Him

Read on AO3 Read on Blogger Read on Tumblr Story Master List: The Way He Looks at You Series

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Chapter Summary

A visit with the physician brings you and Cal closer. Rating: 18+ Words: 2.2K

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The first signs of our previous relationship are showing. Signs, I assume, she will reject. The physician is to arrive today to confirm she is fit to pursue normal activity after her injury and subsequent coma. Doubtful, she is unwell. Part of her memory is missing; she isn’t okay.

I look forward to speaking with him to resolve this issue. If I can help bring her memory back, the need to prove myself over these next six weeks becomes unnecessary. I am prepared to win her back, but I’d rather guarantee the outcome. To know she is mine and worship her for it.

She seems interested, physically; it is her loyalty to the Rebellion that forces her denial. Perhaps I should start physical intimacy. Touch her, kiss her hand; as I did the first time we met. She was willing then, and overcome with lust. She was in a different head space; heartbroken, and craving the attention of desire.

The Jedi causes my blood to boil. He delivered her to me, then stole her from me. I know he isn’t dead, and I stand weak against him at the moment. Every second that passes without her love puts me at risk.

As I cut Jogan fruit for my Light, I glance at the breakfast I made. It was the same breakfast I had previously cooked that she had enjoyed. I had been hopeful the taste would jog her memory. Unfortunate. I eat my portion in a hurry and toss the rest.

She exits the bedroom to my relief and walks down the short hallway towards me, still wearing the unfortunate poncho from my old days. I place the fruit on the table, looking into her eyes for approval; she avoids eye contact as she sits. As she picks at the fruit, I finish cleaning the kitchen, wondering if there might be more I can do to push our relationship along. A light above the front door illuminates, alerting me of the physician’s arrival.

“The doctor is here. I’ll be back in a few minutes for you. Eat what you can while I’m gone.” I say.

She nods once, but I hear the annoyance in her mind. I pass through our front door into the unwelcoming parlor; answering the door to my quarters. The physician, who I have not seen since finding out that my Light was unconscious, looks me over once then picks a spot on the floor to direct his gaze.

“Thirteenth Brother. A pleasure.”

“Please enter, Doctor Halaeon.” I say, my expression hardening instinctively.

The nervous balding man steps inside, and I gesture for him to be seated on one of the two opposing couches. I sit opposite, leaning back in my seat, one arm on the backrest, an ankle resting on my knee.

“Thank you for coming. I apologize that Ms. Kestis fled the hospital upon waking. She was rather distraught.”

The man nods, staring at the coffee table that separates us; I take a deep breath. “I was hoping to speak with you about the reason for her distress before you see her.”

“What seems to be the issue, Inquisitor?” He asks.

“As you know, she suffered severe head trauma, and it seems there’s been a rather unfortunate side effect. One I am hopeful you may have a solution to.”

This causes the Doctor to meet my eye, the whites of his eyes clearly visible.

“It appears Ms. Kestis has lost a significant portion of her memory. Everything from the moment I met her to the moment she woke up in the hospital. I expect you to fix it.”

Doctor Halaeon sits quietly for a moment before speaking, his hands clasped tightly in his lap, not daring to interrupt me. “Inquisitor, I-”

A few shallow breaths and opening and closing his mouth a few times. “I don’t know that we…that I have the power to fix something in this realm. The brain is tricky and often does things we don’t understand.”

“You are a physician, are you not? You fix people. So fix her.” I say. My patience waning. I need her to remember me, to love me again.

His whole body trembles as he speaks. “I will assess her condition and move forward with treatment, but there is no guaranty I can fix this.”

I uncross my legs, leaning forward before lowering my voice. “Do whatever it takes.”

He says nothing and I stand. “I’ll fetch her.”

I return through our front door and see that my Light has eaten most of the fruit and is folding the cloth napkin into various shapes that fall apart from the lack of structure. She looks like her old self for a moment, like when I saw her in the restaurant after buying her clothes that first time. I walk around the table to stand behind her; she ignores me. My hand touches down on the back of the chair.

“Light, the physician is ready to evaluate you. Please follow me into the next room.”

She says nothing and continues folding, her mind complaining and ranting about my being unreasonable for not wearing the clothes she picked for me. I bite back a smile at her internal fit and place my other hand on the table near her work, leaning down towards her cheek.

“You know, if you’d like to spend more time folding, I have your folding papers from before your accident. I could get them for you.”

She swings her head up to look at me; her face inches from my own. Once she realizes the closeness, her cheeks color, and her gaze lowers to my lips before returning to my gaze.

“But you are required to see the physician first.”

Her eyebrows furrow, and she returns her attention to folding the napkin. I let out a short laugh and place a kiss along her hairline.

“You are required to see him either way, but doing so willingly will get you the papers.”

We both freeze, both realizing what I had just done. I pull away, returning to my full height.

“I apologize. You seemed like yourself for a moment, and I forgot the nature of our relationship.”

I offer her my hand. “My offer still stands.”

She considers for a moment, then rises, ignoring my outstretched hand, but allowing me to guide her towards the parlor. Doctor Halaeon stands to greet her and offers his hand to shake; which she accepts, grasping his hand in both of hers.

She’s baiting me, and I feel the distinct need to punish her severely for her rebellion. Imagining spending hours on the couch mindlessly edging her while I read, then going to bed without allowing her release. I shake my head once and return to the conversation that began without my involvement.

The two sit on the same couch and I return to my original seat. I stay quiet, allowing the examination to proceed and listening for any signs that her amnesia might be fixable. My Light is willing, staying in the lines of my request, likely hoping to receive her folding papers. She converses easily with the shaking physician, and he relaxes in her presence.

I listen carefully through the questions and don’t miss when she rejects having any pregnancy symptoms. Though I’m not terribly worried at this stage, soon she won’t be able to ignore them. Soon she’ll have my child, hopefully a son, in her arms. Both of them smiling up at me each time I enter the room, both demanding my attention at all hours. Perhaps her belly round for a second time with a second child, third child, I suppose.

There is the Jedi’s child that I must unfortunately claim as my own. Everyone is expecting two children, two of my children, not one of mine and the child of a Jedi. There would be an uproar, the child publicly killed, and my Light taken from me for information. Something I would never allow to happen; I would sooner take her to the furthest reaches of the galaxy for safety. Perhaps his child won’t survive the pregnancy, perhaps my son will best his in the womb.

“What are the odds of both children surviving?” I ask, interrupting their discussion.

The physician turns to face me.

“Ms. Kestis appears in good health despite the head injury, so it is safe to assume both children will arrive healthy and safe.”

I nod, disappointed, and they continue their conversation about pregnancy and what to expect. The doctor asks a long series of questions regarding her memory. She dodges the specifics of what she remembers to avoid aligning with the Rebellion, but says she clearly remembers that day.

He conducts a long series of response test to determine the results of the head injury. He pulls out a needle to draw blood to run additional tests for the pregnancy. I stay mostly calm but my hand reaches for my lightsaber when he misses her vein and has to try again.

“I apologize. Usually my nursing staff does this portion.” He says.

“It’s okay, you’re doing great.” My Light says.

She shoots me a warning look, not missing my hand on my lightsaber. I attempt to relax into the seat and glare at the man. He is successful the second time and collects what he needs. As the appointment wraps up, the physician prescribes medication for the pregnancy, which I will send for immediately.

“I’d like to see her back at the hospital for cognitive testing when you are able. There is only so much I can do out of the office.” Doctor Halaeon says.

“I will arrange something soon.”

We exchange pleasantries and the room falls silent as the door closes. I sigh, rolling my tense shoulders up to my ears before dropping them.

“That went well-”

“You could have been nicer.” She says.

I whip around, seeing her arms crossed and glaring at me. “He could have done his job better.”

“You brought him out here with no additional staff. The poor guy was terrified!”

“He seemed awfully at ease in your presence.”

“Are you seriously jealous of me being kind to him after seeing his fear of you?” She says. “I had to work to offset the damage you were doing.”

“Was that all it was, Light? You were being nice to put him at ease? Not that you had just rejected my hand moments before taking his so easily.” My voice raises a fraction.

I feel fiery anger in my chest, frustrated by her outburst, furious that she touches others in my presence and I can do nothing to stop it. Anything I do to assert my power will push her further from my reach. She smirks, and I hear in her mind how pleased she is with herself.

“That’s not my name! My name is-”

I close the distance between us in two steps; she tries to back away, eyes wide, but I catch her shoulders, holding her in place. “Ah, but it is your name, because I have elected to call you by it. Unless you’d prefer Mrs. Kestis.”

It’s my turn to smirk and her mouth falls open stupidly, struggling to reconcile with being so close to me. I loosen my grip, but not so much that she may escape it.

“You were a good girl during your appointment, despite your rebellion towards me. You did what I asked and cooperated with the Doctor, so I will give you back your folding papers.” I say.

She looks up into my eyes, her face turning red, her mind repeating things about “good girl” and how I look when I am being stern. So I become more stern, darkening my expression, leaning in, and lowering my voice.

“You understand that while I love you, I loathe your behavior towards me. You will not reject my touch in place of another. No touch is required when offered, but touch no one else after. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Cal.” She says, keeping my gaze, pupils dilating.

I release one hand to brush the hair off her face, allowing my touch to graze her ear and travel down to tilt her chin upward. She sucks in a breath, holding it, awaiting my next careful move. I want to kiss her, to push forward with intimacy. But she must ask to be kissed. She must ask for each part of our old relationship. It’s too delicate to risk any missteps.

“So good.” I muse.

She swallows and glances at my lips again; her thoughts equal parts hoping I’ll kiss her and scolding herself for the thoughts. I lean in more, lingering until her thoughts believe I will kiss her in this moment, parting my own lips and having a long look at hers. I move with haste; closing the distance, she tilts her head to provide better access, ready to accept me. But I don’t move towards her mouth, but past it, to her ear, leaving her wanting.

“Good girl.” I whisper. “I have a meeting soon. Let’s get you those folding papers to keep you busy while I’m preoccupied.”

I let her linger against me for a moment, her heart pounding so loud that I can hear it. She exhales out the breath she was holding and nods. I love my actions disappointed her; I love that she now needs me, that she had her hopes up to feel my kiss. Once she is ready, I guide her back into our home.

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Next Chapter: Coming Soon

Update 02/01/24 •There is lots more content coming soon. •I am taking a few weeks to get my thoughts in order to ensure all four Acts of this story are cohesive and enjoyable. •I am assuming this will take a minimum of four weeks (possibly longer).

What Are You Doing? •Outlining the entire story and solidifying each character and their goals (and much more). •Thoroughly editing all currently posted chapters and adding small bits of new material (nothing huge story line will be changed.) •Plus a secret project that you will never see an announcement for, but maybe if you're lucky, you'll stumble across it in a few weeks. (This message will be deleted by the time it's live)

What Else Can I Read? •I am regularly posting mini series and one shot stories (all Cal centric) •I am also posting Daily Cal Headcanons on my Tumblr

How Can I Help? •Comment/Like/Share/Reblog anything you can to let me know you are still excited about this story and want to see more. •Become an editor/beta reader. Reach out using contact info at the bottom of the post (editor/beta reader link) if interested. I am needing a small team who is interested in helping this, an other, stories grow in a really positive way. I need to know where things feels slow, what does and doesn't work with the plot and characters. (I will remove this portion once I am past the point of return with editing/outlining.)

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riderofblackdragons · 26 days

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Day 6: Russian Roulette

Ok so this one is not part an established au, its literally just something i came up with on the fly. And to clarify, it's probably not going to get expanded on either, this is all for this au.

thanks for reading and I hope yall enjoy!

“Now, Father,” Elijah eyes Mikael, the way he was straining against the magic keeping him at his seat.

Witches would never give up the opportunity to remove an entire line of vampires from the world, after all. Nature had decreed that vampires were against it, and the witches he’d gone to were willing to risk everything for this little plan of his, since he guaranteed the death of one Original. This little game was the perfect chance for them.

“We’re going to play a game,” Elijah allowed a smile to creep onto his face, although the was not warmth behind it.

To his right, Niklaus was bound just as tightly, although he was still unconscious. To his left, Finn, in the same condition as Niklaus. Elijah’s youngest siblings were managing the witches, ensuring that they wouldn’t kill any more than one of them. The witches may have been essential to his plan, but Elijah knew of all the ways that he and his siblings could be killed, and he wanted to ensure fairness.

“What?” Mikael asked. “Elijah?”

Seemed his head was still a bit foggy still. Maybe he wasn’t used to having his neck snapped… On the other hand, Elijah didn’t really care. What mattered was that he’d gotten Mikael, and set up this game for them to play together as a family.

Still, he didn’t want Rebekah or Kol to die, hence putting them on guard duty. Niklaus hadn’t expected Elijah to drug and kill him, and Finn had just required for Elijah to pull the dagger from his chest once they were in position.

And, there. He spotted the tell-tale signs of his brothers waking up, the fluttering of eyes, the greyness finally completely gone. The tugging at their bonds, like they’d be able to break out. If they could, Elijah would murder the entire coven of those that had helped him with this.

“There’s a fascinating game that I heard of recently,” Elijah continued. He knew he sounded a little mad, but he didn’t care. A mental break was the least of his problems, after all he’d been through in the last year or so. “Someone I know taught it to me.

“Of course, she was using regular bullets, but, well… Let’s just say I’ve modified it a little,”

He placed the gun on the table, its barrel facing his father. “Russian roulette,” Elijah announced. “One gun, six chambers. Typically, 5 of 6 are empty, and the last is filled with a bullet.”

He opened the gun, exposing how all the bullets were still inside. “But we’re all vampires here, aren’t we? We cannot die from a mere bullet.

“Today, we play with all 6 chambers filled. But, one of the bullets has white oak inside it. I do not know which, you don’t know which. I will fire at each of us until someone is dead for good, and not coming back.

“And it will be completely random.”

His smile sent shivers down the spines of his family. Elijah was always so warm towards them, so loving towards his siblings. It seemed utterly foreign for him to be so willing to put them on the chopping block. Especially Niklaus, who he’d always held a fondness for.

The only thing that would have been stranger was if Elijah had trapped Kol down here too. He’d raised the boy, in a way he hadn’t really with the rest of his younger siblings. It was the only thing peeking through of his former attitude, that neither Kol nor Rebekah were down here.

Suddenly, Elijah spun the gun around, before he picked it up again and shot Mikael in the chest. The borderline manic expression was gone, replaced by a determined look. The gun was placed back on the table, and then they waited.

And waited.

Mikael woke with a loud gasp, jolting forwards, as though he expected to be free of his restraints. Instead, Elijah took the gun and shot Niklaus next, his favoured brother’s eyes only having enough time to go wide before he was out for the count.

And so, again they waited.

It seemed there was less time between Niklaus’ death and revival compared to Mikael’s, which was interesting. If they weren’t already busy under Elijah’s insane agenda, someone probably would have taken a note of that.

In the meanwhile, Niklaus woke, and Elijah shot himself. Straight in the chest, zero hesitation. Even though he was aware that by doing so, it was likely that he wouldn’t be coming back up.

He did, however. Barely half an hour after, Elijah was back on his feet, wrinkling his nose at the blood that was now on his shirt. And then, of course, it was Finn’s turn to be shot.

Whilst Finn was out, Elijah left for a few minutes. He came back quickly, in a new shirt, and picked up the gun once more to examine it.

“Now, the game changes,” He told them, once Finn was back amongst the living. “There are two bullets left. One can kill temporarily, the other permanently. So, we shall proceed in a manor more akin to the traditional roulette.”

In saying so, Elijah opened up the barrel, revealing the shells of used bullets, and the two remaining ones. He shook out the shells, and moved the bullets around, to make it truly random. Then, he put the gun back to rights, and shot at Mikael.

Of course, it was empty that time. And so Niklaus was shot almost immediately afterwards, although this time it was with a proper bullet, putting him down for the count. Finn found he could barely breathe, although Elijah seemed completely unconcerned about it. Tension hung in the air as they waited to see if Niklaus would make it back up or not.

He did, and Finn found himself breathing a sigh of relief. He hadn’t thought that he would care if his siblings died, monsters that they’d turned into, but apparently he did. Even with the ways Niklaus had grown uncontrollable and inhumane over the years, keeping Finn himself daggered for most them as well, he was still Finn’s little brother, who he could remember trying to toddle after Elijah when they were all young.

The next shot, aimed at Elijah, clicked. Empty. The one after, Finn’s turn, also clicked with the trigger’s pull. Also empty.

The last shot went straight into their father, Mikael bursting into flames barely a minute after it entered his heart. Close as he was, Finn could feel the heat against his skin, and instinctively struggled to get away from it.

Across from him, Finn could see Niklaus doing the same, but Elijah just tilted his head and watched as the man they’d called father their whole lives died as a raging pillar.

He didn’t try to help them at all, just stood there and looked into the fire. For a moment, Finn swore he saw longing in Elijah’s eyes, like he’d wanted the White Oak bullet to enter his chest instead of Mikael’s.

And then, with a blink of an eye, it was all over. Elijah vanished in a burst of speed, Mikael’s corpse turning to low embers as it ran out of fuel. Finn felt his restraints loosen and so stood up, and could see that Niklaus had the same plan as his came undone at the same time.

“We need to find Elijah,” Niklaus stated, and Finn agreed.

Clearly, something was wrong with his younger brother, if he’d decided to resort to this. And for what, exactly? Sure, constantly running was tiring, but as far as Finn had known, Elijah wasn’t complaining about it or anything. Something had to have happened to make Elijah decide that killing Mikael was the best thing to do, instead of merely continuing to run.

#the vampire diaries #tvd #the originals #to #mikael mikaelson #god that name always makes me crack up tbh #elijah mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #finn mikaelson #whumpay

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separatist-apologist · 1 year

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Neon In The Nighttime

Summary: It's the end of the word as we know it. A west coast baker and the drummer of a metal band team up in Boston, MA thinking they're one of the last few people left alive after a viral outbreak turns those infected into blood hungry monsters.

Their destination: Los Angeles, California- the last place Lucien's eldest brother was living while gearing up for a presidential run. Lucien is desperate to escape the memories of his past life and what he had to do when his wife, Jes, became infected. Elain wants to try and reclaim the fractured pieces of the life she remembers before everything went to hell.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Read on AO3

She woke to the sound of wet hands slapping against the glass. Lucien was awake in an instant, pulling his seat back up as he fumbled with the keys. They’d been found by someone infected, pounding frantically against the window with those red rimmed, sightless eyes.

Elain nearly threw up in the seat well at the sight of the creature just outside. Flesh hung in bloated, rotting chunks from a broken, skeletal frame. One eye was wholly gone, plucked out so nothing but bleached bone remained. The jaw had come unhinged, leaving only the top, toothless half gaping in a silent, horrific scream.

Lucien screeched out of the sleeping spot on the side of the road along a long stretch of trees where more of those creatures—because they weren’t human, not anymore—shuffled and ambled toward them.

“Do they just go on forever?” Elain gasped, gripping her thighs as she tried to catch her breath. “They don’t eventually die?”

“Oh, God,” Lucien whispered, his golden skin ashen. “Oh, God.”

He didn’t stop, and to their credit, neither of them threw up though she suspected they both wanted to. Lucien drove through Pennsylvania and into Ohio before he ever spoke a word.

“Have you ever been to Cleveland?”

She almost laughed. “No. Have you?”

Those eyes of his clouded over. “For a show, a couple times. It’s not that bad, you know.”

“It’s Ohio,” she joked. Lucien offered her one of his half-smiles, the closest she’d ever gotten to a true one in the forty eight hours she’d known him.

“Come on,” he said, pulling into the empty city.

“Are you going to give me a tour of all the midwestern cities?” she asked, hoping that he might. Elain was half afraid that Lucien would find Eris and he’d leave her. How did she ask a stranger to let her live with him for the rest of their lives? She hadn’t quite figured it out in her head, but she knew she needed to make sure he understood she was asking as friends.

Platonic roommates was a thing, even in the apocalypse.

“No,” he said, shooting her a sly glance. “But I know a place we can get some actual sleep.”

That was a relief. Lucien had dark circles beneath his eyes and she knew she hadn’t fared much better. Sleeping in a car was uncomfortable in the best of circumstances but knowing there were infected lurking in the woods all but guaranteed Elain was never going to get a good night's sleep again. Maybe not until they were further out west in the desert, where she thought it would be harder for a rotting corpse to amble about for a year.

Lucien took them straight into the heart of downtown Cleveland. Whatever it had been before seemed a paradise to what it had become. More of that sewage smell wafted through the air while nearly all the buildings had been broken up and covered in layers upon layers of black spray paint and new growing vegetation.

“I heard a pundit say once that humanity was the real virus,” Lucien told her, glancing at curling ivy.

“I don’t think that’s true,” she responded. She’d heard that, too, declared so snidely over the radio while she’d been on her way to New York. “I think that’s a cop out.”

“Oh?”

“It didn’t have to be like this,” she whispered, hating the emotion in her voice. Lucien glanced over, knuckles white from where he held the steering wheel. “There were so many chances to turn back, to be better. To do the right thing. So many people tried, and I think it was greed that got in our way.”

“That’s still humanity—”

“No, that’s like, a couple power hungry assholes who decided the rest of our lives and the world itself was worth risking. I don’t think their behavior is some sweeping indictment of humanity as a whole. Do you think that?”

Lucien seemed to contemplate that. “No,” he finally admitted. “I don’t.”

“They sold us all out for money,” Elain said, her heart pounding in her throat. “And I hope they suffered for it.”

The leather groaned beneath his grip. “So do I.”

They didn’t say another word as Lucien wound his way up through a parking garage. He’d had to get out and break the bar to keep out interlopers while Elain watched. Lucien looked strong, so it didn’t surprise her how easily he’d taken it apart. No, it was the rage that flitted over his features. How the muscles in his back shifted beneath the long-sleeved, green shirt he wore and how when he’d looked back to the windshield, there’d been satisfaction etched on his features.

Gone, just as quickly as she’d found it, but still it was there.

“This is as safe as we’ll ever be,” he said, unfolding a tarp from the backseat in an attempt to hide the gas cans in the cab. “We’ll sleep here tonight and make tomorrow a long day.”

“Fine by me,” she agreed. “Tell me about this place.”

Lucien made his way toward the stairwell, ignoring the elevators that no longer worked. Elain couldn’t help but walk to the pried open doors and peer into the gloom. Lucien waited by the stairs, his expression tight.

“Careful,” he warned, as if she might jump straight to the bottom. It had been a long time since Elain had felt that suicidal. She offered him a polite nod.

As they made their way down, Lucien spoke. “This place belonged to a friend of mine. He was from Ohio and I guess living in Cleveland made him feel like he hadn’t sold out. He was out in Los Angeles more often than he wasn’t, but he had this place and when I came through, he let me use it. I don’t think he’ll mind.”

Elain wondered if Lucien hoped he’d find his friend. Walking through the lobby of the building, she kind of hoped they did, too. Like Boston and Erie, Cleveland was miserably empty and gloomy to boot. The sunless sky made everything seem worse—gray and dull, a miserable existence along a muddy river.

And still, lives had been lived here. Snuffed out thoughtlessly, and still pieces lingered. Elain found a stuffed brown bear laying face down in the stairwell and a discarded show in the once clean, open lobby. We were here, those things seemed to scream. Don’t forget us.

Elain picked them up and Lucien didn’t say a word about it. As far as companions went, she was beginning to think she’d lucked out. Though sad, Lucien was at least friendly. He made her think of George and his assertion that killing was nothing like he thought it would be. Nothing like he’d seen in movies. Lucien, by that same logic, was nothing like the action heroes of the post-apocalyptic shows she’d used to watch. Though there was a gruffness to him, there was also compassion and kindness. He cared, deeply if she had to guess which made it easier to exist beside him.

She didn’t feel as though she needed to bottle so much. Maybe he felt the same, too, since he’d brought her here. What Elain wanted was to be his friend, to have that connection with another living person again. How awful to crave that desperately and find yourself stuck with someone that openly refused to indulge in any emotion but rage?

“Lucien,” Elain panted when they’d reached the tenth floor and were still climbing up. “How much—”

“Five,” he breathed, wiping sweat on the back of his shirt sleeve. “I didn’t think it would be so bad.”

“We can’t do this on foot,” she wheezed, clutching at the metal rail to help take her up.

“Of course we can,” he replied, though he didn’t look as though he believed his own words. Elain certainly didn’t. They did make it to the fifteenth floor, gasping for air and dragging their legs behind them. Lucien pulled open the heavy door and with some unknown strength, managed to break into his friend's apartment while Elain kept her cheek pressed against the yellowing wall.

Elain stumbled in behind Lucien, surprised by how normal it looked. Like they were merely renting it for the weekend. Behind her, Lucien managed to get the door to close, though it didn’t lock like he so clearly wanted it to.

Gold records hung in black framed glass pictures on the wall, denoting the success of a metal band named Spring Reign. Leather furniture and sleek technology told Elain this had been someone with money and taste, given how orderly and nice everything was arranged.

Pictures were hung along a shelf on the walls of the man who’d owned this place. His tan skin and green eyes were made paler with the make-up he used around his eyes, and his long, blonde hair seemed as though he’d made it stringy looking on purpose. There were photos of him with other celebrities, with politicians, and one that Elain pulled from the wall to look at closer.

It was two photos, side by side. The first was Lucien, a dark haired brunette, and a beautiful, red-haired woman. Sweat soaked and grinning in front of a burry crowd of screaming people. Lucien held a pair of drumsticks in one hand, his other casually flung around the redhead. It was clear the man who owned the apartment had taken the picture and kept it, Elain supposed, because they were friends.

The other was far more domestic. In some unnamed living room, Lucien and the blonde man held middle fingers up at the camera. Lucien sat beside a curly haired brunette woman lost in some forgotten conversation with the redhead from the previous photo.

“That’s Tamlin,” Lucien said from behind Elain. With careful fingers, he pulled the picture from her grasp to look. “And that's Jurian—he played bass—and Vassa, she sang, and was our lead guitarist. We headlined for Tam and he took this picture of us. I didn’t know he’d kept it.”

Elain waited, watching how Lucien’s thumb swept over the smiling woman sitting beside him.

“And that’s Jes.”

“Your wife?” Elain asked, though she knew. “She’s beautiful.”

He nodded. “Yeah. She was…I met her when I was a fucking loser in high school. She was…” he trailed off, lost in memory. “She could have done better. Sometimes I wish she had.”

“Lucien,” Elain whispered, taking the picture from him when it looked like he might throw it against the wall.

“It was our first big solo tour. All our shows were sold out, we had a huge following and for the first time everything was going right. And I could have brought her with me but…”

Elain waited as Lucien drew a breath.

“I didn’t want her there. I wanted it for myself and I knew if she came she’d hate it. She didn’t like the crowds, all the girls…”

“Lucien,” Elain said patiently, looking up at the tortured man in front of her. “There was no way you could have known.”

“I was in Atlanta when they shut down the airports. If she’d been with me—”

“She still could have been infected,” Elain reminded him gently. “We didn’t know how it spread back then, or how fast newly infected people were.”

Lucien was staring at his hands, his eyes wide with horror. Elain could piece it all together. His wife had probably gone out in the early days and been attacked. And Elain could imagine she’d taken herself home to clean up the wound while trying to decide if it was worth going to the emergency room or not. Unaware she only had an hour—and that no matter where she went, she was already doomed.

And Lucien, who’d returned after days of trying to get home, to find her gone, but still alive. Elain swallowed.

“Did you—”

“Yes,” he whispered, still looking at his callused hands. Elain took them in her own.

“She was already gone by the time you got home. You didn’t…you didn’t hurt her. She couldn’t feel it. And she didn’t know it was you.”

His eyes found hers, wide and glassy with unshed tears. “How do you know?” he asked.

She didn’t want to relive it. Elain had spent months trying to forget George and the tunnel and everything that happened in the aftermath.

“I was in the Chesapeake tunnel when…” Lucien’s eyes widened. “The man in front of me was attacked. We thought it was drugs. Just someone on a bad trip who’d decided to walk through oncoming traffic. His name was George.”

Lucien didn’t take his eyes off her face.

“It’s a long walk back to the beginning,” she whispered, half lost in the glowing orange. “And with every step, he was getting sicker. I think he must have realized at some point. I think he knew what was coming, could feel himself slipping. He gave me his gun before he attacked me, and when he…when…he begged me to kill him.”

Lucien’s skin had grown pale, eyes practically bulging.

“It was like that the second time, too,” Elain told him, closing her eyes. “Once you're infected, you have an hour or less before you’re gone and the virus takes over. You saw this morning. Our bodies are dead, we’re gone, but our brain is still alive. You didn’t hurt her, Lucien. If anything, you gave her a merciful death. Don’t you think she’d forgive you, though? If she knew what you were doing, don’t you think she’d have wanted you to end it before she hurt you?”

A tear slid down his cheek. “If we’d been together—”

“You didn’t know,” Elain said firmly. “None of us did. And I know this probably doesn’t make you feel better, but I’m glad you survived. And somewhere, I think so is Jes.”

He blinked, losing another tear despite how tight he clenched his jaw. “The time we had…sometimes I think it was enough. At least…at least we had it. It keeps me going, thinking about her, about before. And when you said…”

He drew a shuddering breath.

“Maybe you’re right. And maybe the word doesn’t have to be so ugly all the time. I think…when you said humanity isn’t a virus, that she wasn’t. And the love we had wasn’t, either. It was enough.”

Elain turned the picture over in her hands, popped off the little cardboard backing, and slipped it from the frame.

“All we can do is go forward,” she said, offering him the photos. Lucien took them, his eyes locked on her face. “That doesn’t mean we have to forget. And that doesn’t mean the love we felt meant any less.”

Swallowing hard, Lucien nodded his head. “Was there…did you—”

Elain’s laugh was more scoff than anything. “I was engaged. I wish I could say he mourned me like this, but I don’t think he spent even a minute wondering about me.”

“His loss, then,” Lucien replied flippantly, tucking the photos in his back pocket. “I’d miss you, if you left.”

Elain didn’t want him to know how much that meant to her. Truthfully, she didn’t think anyone had missed her. In the scrambling aftermath, Elain was certain she’d never been anything but an afterthought. A last minute, “Oh and Elain, what happened to her—”

And that stung. Knowing everyone who had ever loved her likely had written her off as the first to die and likely hadn’t displayed even a fraction of the remorse that Lucien was still grappling with.

“Good,” she said, forcing herself to remain light. She tried to dart away, but Lucien’s hand shot out, catching her elbow in warm fingers.

“I mean it. I…” He swallowed again. “Thank you. For coming with me.”

“It was self-serving—”

“Take the compliment, Elain.”

“Promise me you won’t abandon me if we find your brother.”

Lucien’s smile made her heart thud with hope. “What happened to competing cults?”

“Exactly,” she reminded him. “I’d let you be my equal but your brother would make you subservient.”

Lucien chuckled. “Come on, Elain. Let's see if the water still works.”

And for the first time in what seemed like a lifetime, Elain felt as if she could breathe again.

LUCIEN:

The water did work, and once they let it run, it was mostly clear. Cold, though neither of them had expected it to be hot. He let Elain bathe first, listening to her shriek beneath the frigid temperature in Tamlin’s once glorious shower. There was soap, at least, which was more than he’d had in a long time. While Elain showered, Lucien went to the fridge. If there was one thing he could count on, it was alcohol.

Tamlin’s apartment was drowning in it. Bottles covered in dust were half filled with tequila and rum and though it was warm, there was a whole shelf of shitty beer sitting in a fridge that had contained nothing else. Tamlin had never been the vegetable type.

Warm beer was fine with Lucien. He popped the top off one and took a long drink like a starving man. Fuck, but a little alcohol might help dull some of the pain radiating in his chest. Seeing that picture of Jes had been a wrecking ball against his heart.

“Did Tamlin have a girlfriend?” Elain’s voice called from the hall, echoing in the silence. What he wouldn’t have given for just a little electricity. Some music, some television—a distraction from his constant thoughts.

“Probably,” Lucien called back. “He was certainly popular with them. Why? Did you find something?”

“Clothes!” she called back with a giddiness that made him smile. Lucien couldn’t believe someone had left this woman behind. No one was looking for her? That felt impossible. The only reasonable explanation was whoever it was that wanted to find her hadn’t been able to track her down after a desperate, frantic search. There was something special about Elain Archeron and the way she could see the ugliness of the world and find all the beautiful pieces anyway.

Elain sauntered out, combing through her thick, golden brown curls.

Lucien grinned at the sight of her. “No more St. Patricks Day clothes?”

No, Elain had found a black bodysuit that had likely been worn for bedroom purposes. It looked good on her, though. Tight against her lithe frame so it hugged right against her skin while the fabric pulled in places to give her a defined, almost hourglass sort of shape.

“Do I look like an action movie heroine?” she asked, pulling the strand of her wet hair into a long braid.

“Is that what you’re going for?” he asked. She did, he thought, minus all the gear those types seemed to wear. A sanitized, prettier version of an action heroine. No one would have believed a face like hers was capable of the sort of violence those movies demanded.

Elain wiggled her hips with a smile. “Yes. Maybe if I look terrifying, I’ll feel like it, too.”

Lucien merely shrugged. “A sunbeam masquerading as starlight?”

Elain’s lips parted, eyes wide while Lucien instantly regretted saying such a thing. What had possessed him? Unable and unwilling to take it back, Lucien stepped away so he could shower, too.

“Good luck with that,” he said, poking her in the ribs before vanishing down the hall. She didn’t call after him nor did she say he’d made her uncomfortable. Lucien reflected that he hadn’t been wrong, either. Elain exuded light. It was her great tragedy, in his opinion, to exist in a place that no longer valued that sort of softness. That had stolen it from her in order to ensure her survival.

Lucien took his time in the frigid water, careful to keep his mouth shut given the metallic tang that filled the glass space. Elain had been right—Tamlin had a lot of soap.

Deodorant, too. God, he’d forgotten how good it felt to slather it beneath his arms and not worry that he reeked to high heavens. Lucien intended to take it—and the spare he’d found in a closet—with him.

He assumed Tamlin wouldn’t care if he stole some of his clothes. Just as Elain had done, Lucien shrugged on a pair of tight black jeans and a matching t-shirt, short sleeved to show off his tattoos, which was a thing he still stupidly cared about. He ransacked Tamlin’s closet, taking everything that had been left behind.

It wasn’t like Tam was ever going to use it again.

Lucien returned, threading his own fingers through his hair to give himself a dutch braid that matched Elains. She’d dug out a lot of candles, from where, Lucien didn’t know. He followed the trail of them and the mingling scents into a room that made his throat tight.

“Look,” Elain said, holding a coconut jarred candle in her hands. Lucien was certainly looking—not at her, but at the room she’d found. Tamlin’s studio, once upon a time. All untouched, from the guitars on stands and the fiddles on the wall, to the box where he’d recorded vocals and the drum kit against a glass window.

“I found this,” Elain added, walking toward a tower of records. Pulling out a plastic case, Elain found a CD—The Exiles.

Lucien could have wept. “We can listen to it in the car!” she said brightly. “Also, your friend was a big fan of Taylor Swift, so if we get bored—”

“We won’t,” he breathed, taking the CD out of her hand. Of course Tamlin would have bought one in every form he could get his hands on. Lucien bet he had the record, and a digital copy, too.

“I found sticks,” Elain told him softly, nodding toward a cup on the windowsill. “If you wanted to play, I’d listen. I’ll even scream that I love you, if that helps.”

Lucien choked on his laughter. “Would you flash me, too?”

She rolled her eyes, still grinning. “I don’t believe that ever happened.”

“Oh, it did. Mostly to Vassa, but still.”

“Well, if Vassa were here I might reconsider,” she said, plopping in a leather chair. The mixing board was dead, a monument to the money Tamlin had once had and the dreams he’d so carefully cultivated. Lucien would have given anything to step into the recording box and hear his own voice—to manipulate the vocals, the sound of the drums, the guitar. Anything that might shake him from this nightmare.

Elain waited expectantly, hand outstretched. He handed her his record, thinking of the blood, sweat, and tears it had taken to make it in the first place.

“Play The Grey for me,” she said, looking at tracklist printed on the back. Lucien smiled.

“I wrote that, you know,” he said, reaching for the sticks. A thin layer of dust coated the kit, but for the most part, the set was in perfect, gorgeous condition.

“Of course. I’m actually a secret Lucien Vanserra fan,” Elain told him. “I had a poster of you—”

“Shirtless, I hope,” he said with a relish, flipping his sticks between his fingers. He didn’t have to look to see her roll her eyes. Lucien could practically hear it. Still, it felt good to tease her a little.

In his head, he could see it all so clearly. That last show in Atlanta and the hum of the crowd. Vassa tuning her guitar just off stage while Lucien stretched out his muscles and Jurian gulped down water. They hadn’t known it would be their last show together, didn’t know they needed to savor it.

He hadn’t told either of them goodbye. He’d just left in his desperation to get back to Jes. He didn’t know what had happened to Vassa and Jurian, but he hoped they’d gotten the hell out. That they were somewhere safe, and they didn’t hate him too much.

Lucien looked up to find Elain watching, his record still held in her delicate hands. Hands that were just as blood stained as his own. She smiled that bright, sunny smile and Lucien thought if Elain could find joy in this terrible world, maybe he could, too. And maybe, despite everything, there was still a place for musicians and bakers.

Closing his eyes, Lucien counted in his head, just like he’d always done. Vassa started, and Jurian followed just behind, thrumming softly. Building into Lucien’s furious beat. Lucien had forgotten how it felt to lose himself this way. To give in to the ache in his arms, to lean into the pain because it felt good. Nothing in Lucien’s life had ever made him feel like playing music did. He still remembered when his mother had brought home that drum kit, desperate to find something that might focus her rowdy son. Lucien had taken to it like a fish to water and that it been the end of things. While his father groomed Eris to be a great politician, Lucien was left to run wild.

The music in his head ended, dragging him back into the candle lit darkness with Elain. She had her head propped on her hand, watching him with bright eyes. “Teach me,” she asked. Jes had said the same thing, once. Lucien had blown her off, unwilling to share. There would be time, besides. He’d always thought so.

“Come here,” he said instead, breathless and exhilarated. There was no such thing as time anymore. Every moment had to be selfishly seized lest they lose it forever. If Elain wanted him to show her how to play and he brushed her off, he’d never get another chance. Tomorrow they’d be back in the car, and though they’d have things to listen to, they wouldn’t have this.

Lucien yielded the stool to her, hovering just behind. She inclined her head to look up at him and for just a moment, Lucien was struck by how genuinely beautiful she was. He’d forgotten, having grown accustomed to her presence, her face, but just then, as he handed her his sticks, it was like he was seeing her for the very first time.

“Now what?” Elain asked, unaware of his thoughts. Lucien reached for her wrists.

“After me.”

#oops I forgot about this #elucien

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heartbreakgrill · 1 year

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kol mikaelson; best friend’s brother pt. 5- don’t blame me.

“oh, lord, save me. my drug is my baby i’ll be using for the rest of my life.

a/n: oooookay 😂 one more part after this? no promises? this chapter is cool and i like it but be warned it’s semi boring.

@fitzs-trained-monkey @fandomrulesall-blog @princess-charming-01

i was shunned.

it had been two months and i hadn't heard from rebekah. she'd stopped coming to school the day directly after her discovery. she texted caroline, informing her she wasn't going to be apart of the cheer team anymore. she was even respectful enough to return the uniform to her.

but she wouldn't answer any of my texts or calls.

i stared longingly at her usual desk in each and every class. paying attention was difficult when there was a newfound hole in my heart. i'd never been so close to somebody before, especially in such a small time frame. and suddenly she was gone.

all because of me.

i took up more shifts at the grill and was on the precipice of full-time. caroline, bonnie, and elena started having me over more often. but i excluded myself from supernatural conflicts. it's not like i had offered any good skills anyways.

it was better this way, i told myself.

elena would make jokes about how it was good i had decided to stop seeing rebekah. like i'd had a choice.

"i'm sure it was fun sometimes, but god, i would be sick to my stomach with fear," elena remarked, tossing popcorn into her mouth.

it was a friday night after the last football game of my entire life. a moment i should've gotten to share with rebekah.

i smiled, tight lipped. "yeah."

no.

i missed it.

it felt more normal than this.

movie marathons, making fun of romantic scripts. stuffing our faces with pizza and popcorn and soda. swimming until 3am, listening to one direction. a guaranteed 'ride' home from school everyday.

fuck, i'd even finally gotten my license. my mom started taking me out to practice with my learner's permit and, after a few weeks, i passed the test with flying colors. all my hours at the grill over the past two years made up enough money for a down payment on a decent car. i wished rebekah was in the passenger seat every time i left school. vamping was fun- but i had the entire world at my tires now. with no one to see it with.

though i did miss her vamping me everywhere. it always led to a laugh, a new happy memory to be shared between the two of us.

there would no more of those.

i'd gone to the house numerous times, of course. i'd waited a month to do so, afraid that if i came too soon, it would slice open the wound and pour lemon on the cut. the first time, i'd waited on the porch for ten minutes, fingers nervously playing with my lanyard. rebekah always joked that she would buy me a keychain whenever i got my license. she wanted to be the first one to do so.

but i'd had to buy my own.

i knocked, eventually. klaus opened the door. he smiled sadly, down at me.

"hello, love," he nodded once. affirming the situation. it was as bad as i thought.

"i-" i shut my mouth tightly. my voice was weak. "is rebekah here?"

klaus shook his head, left to right, "she left."

my heart sunk a little further. i was afraid it would drop out of me if it went any further. "where'd she go?"

left? the house? the family? the state? life itself? had klaus daggered her? had she decided to tap out of it all?

klaus leaned against the frame, crossed his arms. "my family founded new orleans, a long, long time ago. we had a house- a compound there. elijah thought it might be a good idea for us to leave mystic falls behind and start over. rebekah finalized that decision after- you."

tears welled up in my eyes. i quickly brushed my fingers against my cheeks, soaking up the water there. it kept coming though, and i sniffled at the flood. "oh. ok. i'm sorry- sorry to have come."

i went to leave, but klaus caught my wrist in his hand. he looked down at me, pitifully. his pupils were rounded out with compassion. that was the klaus caroline saw. that humanity. he pulled me into a hug.

it wasn't awkward or tense. i sunk into his arms, and the tears flowed from my eyes. he held me gently, one hand at my back, the other at the nape of my neck. his fingers were soothing on my skin, comforting me back from the ledge. eventually, i pulled away, flashing an embarrassed smile.

"um," i gulped, "when you see her, will..."

klaus nodded encouragingly. "it may take a while, but she'll hear you eventually. i can't promise forgiveness or the chance to move forward. she's stubborn. but she does love you. always and forever."

i shut my eyes tightly, a shaky breath reaching the bottom of my stomach. "thank you."

the other times i went, the house was empty. i just wanted to soak in the memories there, the smell of the garden, the chlorine of the pool, the aura of rebekah's room. i stood on the porch, staring at the door, willing it to unlock. then, i saw a envelope, sticking out from underneath a rock on the porch. my name was on the front, in a beautiful, cursive writing. it was heavier than an envelope of its size should be.

i quickly tore it open, careful not to rip the thick packet of papers inside. a letter from klaus was enclosed, along with a key, and that packet.

"dearest y/n,

i have enclosed the deed to our home here in mystic falls and in new orleans. i put them in your name. i didn't want to sell this one, in case my family wants to one day return. but i additionally wanted you to have it. i hope it's consolation, though it's not enough for what you've gone through since the supernatural first knocked on your door. the second is so we have a reason for unwanted to not be able to come in. i hope it's ok if i call you, need i your invitation.

below is the address of our compound in new orleans and my new cell phone number. one day, i hope we see you again. you are a mikaelson now, no matter what happens.

affectionately, klaus.'

i tipped the envelope and the key dropped into my hand and a necklace fell to the porch. i picked it up, hands beginnig to shake when i saw the mikaelson seal branded on its charm.

i burst into tears again.

–

kol was a different story.

for a week after, he came to see me. after school, walks home from the grill, a trip or two out to our over look. it was tense at times, especially when one of us would bring up the issue at hand. but we tried to push through. if i had been completely abandoned, i didn't know if i would've been able to move on so well. not that i was moving on at all.

then, after a week, he started making excuses. i waited for an hour after my shift at the grill one night. he never showed. so i walked home, wishing my drivers test would come sooner. it happened again later in the week. i waited twenty minutes.

at that fridays football game, i looked for his face in the crowd. he was nowhere to be seen. i texted him, called him. he sent back excuses, apologies that were empty. i'm sure rebekah was threatening him, and he felt pressured- but what about me? he'd roped me into this mess, and now he was leaving me on the side of the road. he was breaking the trust if built, brick by dirty brick.

eventually, his responses stopped. i cried myself to sleep two nights in a row when i realized he was never going to come to my window again. and when klaus told me they were moving, i stuffed kol's hoodie in the back of my closet, his boxers in a drawer somewhere.

movie tickets, a pressed flower, a polaroid of him. it was empty romance now. a hopeless dream i had once wished and was now paying for.

i should've known.

rebekah had been wrong. i never needed this- a hurricane, disrupting my life when it was just getting great. what lesson would i learn? that i was a shitty friend? that i was vulnerable and stupid and fucking hopeless.

when i got my license, i drove myself out to the cliff. i wore his hoodie, hoping it would bring me a sense of closure. i sat on the open trunk of my car, clutching the necklace around my throat. i hid it under my shirt everyday. it was still valuable to me. it made me feel a little better.

tears wallowed down my face, sobs threatening to burst through my mouth. i put in my headphones and listened to his songs, his favorite lyrics. the 1975 was truly meant for douche bags like him.

i sat silently, staring at the full moon, howling down at me like it was humorous, this barren moment. here i was, alone. where we had once been together.

in every way.

i swear i heard a twig snap from the woods. i jumped off the trunk, spinning around to face whatever danger was there.

"hello?" i peered into the darkness, tired and afraid. i pulled a headphone from my ear.

a shadow moved along the tree line and my eyes snapped towards it. it dissipated as moonlight streaked across the trees.

someone had been there. or maybe it was a trick in my head.

i went home.

life moved on.

fall bled into winter, but the only real change in the days was the bitter cold that came some nights. it snowed, only sometimes, and i relished in the excuse to skip school, work, to just lay in bed. i carried my chair to the balcony some times, sat there and watched the snow fall around me. i'd shiver under a blanket, and get a cold every once and awhile. but it felt good to freeze.

i was a walking cliche for some months. until i let myself thaw a little. caroline and i became closer friends. it began one day after school, when i was at my locker. she offered for me to come with her, elena, and bonnie to a tour of white more college. i declined. she asked why. i shrugged.

"are you.." i watched her take a deep breath. her brows furrowed. she frowned. "y/n...are you okay? god, how has nobody noticed how- i'm so sorry."

she latched onto me, hugging me tightly to her chest. my eyes watered a bit.

"it's fine, care," i pushed off of her. i felt like i was choking. "there's bigger issues in the world than my broken heart."

"no, god, y/n..." she sighed, "you lost your best friend and your...boyfriend? you lost kol all within the span of a month. i don't know what happened between you two, but i do remember that night- rebekah's party. you had feelings for him. and he left you. what happened?"

i shut my locker, crossed my arms over my chest, "i don't know. they moved to new orleans. i guess i was too heavy of baggage to pack."

caroline shook her head, "no, don't say that. that's not true. hey- screw bonnie and elena. why don't we go out tonight? get drunk at some random bar, cry over tequila shots and dance with small-town 7 looking boys?"

i let myself laugh for the first time in a long time. i nodded, "sure. that sounds...fun, actually."

hours later; i was dressed up in the tiniest black piece of cloth, wearing a pair of caroline's heels that made my feet groan when i walked. i let her curl my hair, do my makeup. all of it took too much energy- but i needed to stop moping. i needed to close the chapter on mourning and start writing the one for healing.

i needed to start getting ready for graduation. prepare to spend my last summer as a kid in my hometown.

the mikaelsons weren't going to ruin my life. not my senior year.

i threw my head back, a tequila shot burning down my throat. i coughed into my elbow slightly, looking at Caroline with a grin. she cheered as i slammed the glass back onto the bar.

the music blared in my ears, another 2000s pop hit that was only fun to listen to in bars like this. we danced, drank stuff she compelled out of the bartender, and i sat and watched as she flirted with two boys.

they came over to us and she looked to me, "let's go dance with them! fuck kol!"

i shook my head, laughing, "no, thanks. you go, have fun!"

i slid off the bar stool. she frowned at me, but shrugged. "if you insist!"

i watched her escape to the dance floor with the two boys. they fell into the crowd easily, dancing perfectly on beat to the miley cyrus song. i glanced around the crowd, at the different dancers taking up the space in the bar. my eyes fell over the face of a brown-headed boy. his hair fell in perfect swoops on his head, curling slightly at the nape of his neck.

my heart beat skipped as he turned towards me, laughing with his friends. there were crinkles in his cheeks, white teeth gleaming between rosy pink lips. my gaze flickered to his eyes, shining bright chocolate in the dimmed lighting in the bar.

i thought i was going to puke.

i stumbled out the back door of the bar, bracing my hands on the brick wall by the dumpster. it was freezing outside and goosebumps immediately prickled at my skin. i tucked my hair behind my ears furiously, taking deep, stubborn breaths.

i needed to hear his voice. i needed- needed something from him. an echo. a memory.

i pulled out my phone, quickly dialing the number i had memorized.

and he answered.

"kol?" i nearly sobbed, tears flecking down my face, smearing my mascara.

there was nothing but silence on the other end of the line.

then i heard a shuffle. my heart nearly jumped out of my chest.

"kol," i breathed, "i know you're t-there. i k- why did you leave me? why did you just leave me here to deal with this mess? you said that i meant something to you, and then you just left. who does that? i-i put everything on the line for you! i put my trust in you! and you fucking left me! you kno-"

my voice cracked, and a sob burst through my lips. "i think i-"

i set my hand against the wall, my shoulder brushing up against it as a cry wracked my body.

"i think i might have loved you."

i heard another shuffle on his end.

"but, i guess i'll just let that go. i hope that you're okay- you deserve to be okay, even though you left me here. alone. i'm going to say goodbye even though you didn't give that to me. goodbye, kol. i miss you."

i hung up. he wasn't going to talk anyways.

taking a deep breath, i threw my phone across the narrow alleyway because of a burst of anger. it hit the wall, broke into pieces.

it was time to let it go anyways.

–

5 months passed.

i was sitting on the couch in the salvatore boarding house. caroline sat beside me, annoyed, with her arms crossed over her chest.

i popped another grape in my mouth, the plastic baggy in my hand crinkling. "sure you don't want a grape?"

caroline rolled her eyes with a huff. "i want to go get ready to graduate high school- not sit here and wait for damon to solve this weeks crisis."

i rose my brows in surprise, chewed on another grape. "forget i asked."

i wasn't exactly 100% sure what was happening: though i'd grown back into this friend group, and simultaneously gotten involved in a few conflicts here and there, i wasn't always up to date on the news. i tried to stay on the sidelines, as per usual, especially after i was almost killed two months ago.

being close with caroline, meant getting close with the entire group. which, now, was fine. two months ago, it was overwhelming. one minute, i had been with her at the local mall. shopping. the next, i was tied up in some back-alley, abandoned store, with a head wound and a knife in my stomach.

i still don't remember much from that day. but i do remember jeremy.

he had stormed in, to my recuse, only a few hours after i'd been kidnapped by some big shot vampire with a grudge against stefan. jeremy had prioritized me. bonnie had done a locator spell and, instead of waiting for a negotiation, he came and got me.

caroline was there beside him. she took out the enemy and then offered me her blood. i denied it for the first time in my life. i'd never been in this situation before. but i knew the potential consequences of healing quickly like that.

i chose the hospital.

i let jeremy untie the ropes, carefully pick me up, and carry me to the ER. he sat with me for three days- there even when even my mother and father weren't.

he held my hand, soothed my headaches, and made sure i was always stocked up on cafeteria jello.

that's when i felt the hole in my heart stitch up. that's when i fully started to like waking up again. when i was noticed again, when my existence mattered. when i had someone to listen to me ramble about my night at work, someone to cheer me on at basketball games when i was cheering on our team.

when i had someone there to hold me, to soothe the ache away. to fill the void. someone who wasn't fleeting. someone who wasn't dangerous and bad.

the door to the boarding house flung upon. damon sauntered in, heading straight for the whiskey bottle. elena, jeremy, and bonnie followed behind him. bonnie looked exhausted. elena had blood on her shirt. and jeremy's shoulders dropped in exhaustion as he set down the heavy duffel bag of vampire weapons.

i looked to his kind brown eyes, and watched them light up as he met mine. i stood from my seat, feeling pulled towards him. the others dropped out of my vision, out of my focus, as i reached for his face with gentle hands. my stomach did flutter with some kind of feeling for him. it wasn't as strong, as passionate. but it was there.

"are you okay?" i comforted, examining him for wounds.

his hands came to rest at my back. "yeah, i'm good. elena and damon got to em before i could."

"good," i let out a deep breath. "that's good."

jeremy hugged me tight. i closed my eyes, resting my head in the crook of his neck. i breathed in his scent. i relished being held. i relished having someone to care and worry for like this.

it wasn't jeremy's fault i didn't care that it was him.

because if he stayed silent long enough, i could pretend, for even a second, that he was a different body under my touch. that his songs were different when they played in the car, that he took me on more emotionally connecting dates than the grill.

i did care about him. i always had. i'd known jeremy since i was ten, he was 8. my family just moved to mystic falls. and elena, bonnie, and caroline became my friends. frequent sleepovers were spent at the gilbert house. and jeremy was the lame little brother who, i guess, secretly harbored a crush on me for years.

each time he'd died over the past two years, i had cried. i'd mourned him at his funerals, was hopefull when he'd returned from the dead. because i cared for him.

but, now, i was standing on the edge of a cliff. he had jumped a long, long time ago. my feet were hanging off of the ledge- and i couldn't bring myself to let go of the sky holding me up.

i felt my heart tear open a bit, felt the bleeding start. i pulled away, hands beginning to shake.

because, though i had thawed from my icy regret, i was still soaking wet from the past

jeremy let go, but his eyes turned down in concern, "what's wrong?"

i brushed my hair behind my ear and gave a pathetically fake smile. "nothing. i was just worried."

i turned to caroline, who was now standing, anxiously wanting to just leave already. i was right there with her. sometimes, i could handle dancing on the precipice with jeremy. sometimes his eyes would glitter just the way kol's had, and i wouldn't be able to breathe.

just now, i had caught a scent similar to kol's cologne. and i needed out.

"care?" i called out.

she met my gaze, her eyes fierce with precision, "we have exactly three hours and 35 minutes until they call our names out on that football field. if we leave now, and get back to your place, we'll have three hours and 20 minutes. it takes an hour to curl my hair- then an hour to do yours-"

"care!" i interrupted, annoyed. "get in the car and let's go."

her eyes slammed shut as she took a deep, grounding breath. "alright," she opened her gaze, "let's go graduate!"

we bid adieu to our friends. jeremy walked us out to my car, caroline following ahead of us. jeremy held my hand sweetly, thumb brushing against the skin on the back of my hand.

i watched caroline climb into the passenger seat as we passed through the front door. i stopped in my tracks, pulling jeremy to a halt beside me.

he glanced down at me, smiling, "how ya feeling?"

i shrugged, "like a high school graduate."

he snickered. "not quite yet. give it a few hours."

i crinkled my nose with a small giggle. "i'll see you out at the stadium?"

"yeah," he nodded. jeremy looped an arm around my waist. he leaned down, placed a sweet kiss on my lips.

my eyes fell shut, and i appreciated in the physical affection. but my brain flickered with images.

i could never forget, no matter how far i moved on.

i tugged away. i always did first.

i was a shitty person. but i couldn't be alone again.

jeremy grinned at me as i waved goodbye.

within ten minutes, caroline was curling my hair while i did my makeup. she played music on her phone, a compilation of songs from when we were younger. it made us both emotional, and i'd had to redo my mascara three times.

rebekah should've been there. i loved caroline. i was grateful i'd gained her out of the mess of the past few months. but rebekah was supposed to be there, in my room, playing one direction, straightening my hair, probably. she should've been there, complaining about four more years of school- something she secretly enjoyed. dressing up a beautiful white dress, adorning her graduation gown with medals and sashes.

days like today were sensitive for me, i guess.

when i was done, caroline sat my vanity and started on herself. i changed into my white dress, and plopped on my bed to lace up my heels. but, i heard my mom call my name from downstairs. i padded, barefoot, into the hall, with furrowed brows.

leaning over the steps, i yelled down to her, "what?"

"there's someone at the door for you!"

i straightened up, confusion washing over my face. my fingers reached for my neck, for a necklace- the necklace- to tug at. it was a nervous habit. something soothing in moments of uncertainty.

but i'd stopped wearing it whenever i'd gotten back with my friends. i didn't ever think they'd be comfortable with that idea of who i had been associated for those three months. for some reason, they couldn't see the mikaelsons how i did.

besides caroline, none of them even knew about kol. they just thought rebekah had done what every other mikaelson always does- abandoned loyalty. abandoned me, destroyed my happiness for the sake of power or blood.

little did they know.

my fingers met the chain of a necklace my mother had bought me as a present for today. i tugged at it as i descended the stairs. it still brought some comfort.

i turned at the bottom of the stairs, to face the door. my mother stood beside it, hand dangling off of the knob as she spoke to the person on our porch. my eyes wandered away from her figure, and to the boy standing in the doorway.

my heart hammered in my chest. i flushed red, out of excitement and worry. his eyes peeled away from my mother's, a brilliant grin dancing on his face. my mom turned, following his eyes. he held two large bouquets of roses, one pink, one white.

my mom smiled at me, "she's here! you have a visitor, y/n."

she walked past me, frozen at the bottom of the steps, and squeezed my shoulder encouragingly. she knew i hated talking to people. if only she knew...

when the door to her office squeaked shut, i finally spoke. "klaus?" i squeaked out. i managed to put a foot out in front of me, attempted to pull myself toward. my hands fell off of the banister, slack at my sides.

his smile widened, "hello, love. may i come in?"

i stopped at the door. my jaw was hung open. "what are you doing here?"

he offered the pink bouquet of flowers. "i wanted to you see you graduate. one of us should be here."

i took the bouquet from him, eyes widening at the gorgeous dozen of roses. i wanted to cry a little bit at the thoughtful gesture, but i swallowed my feelings. i couldn't let myself go like that again.

"thank you," i held them like a baby in my arms. "uh, please, come in."

klaus stepped inside as the magical barrier fell. i shut the door. he looked around, admiring the inside of my house. i watched him carefully, trying to examine any ulterior motives. not that he would do anything bad. but had something happened? was he here to deliver news? good news?

"why are you here?" klaus turned to my voice.

he crossed his hands in front of him, "to see you graduate."

i rose my brows, pursed my lips. "that's it?"

klaus let out a small chuckle, head falling forward. "can it wait until after? after youre done?"

i shook my head, hugging the roses tighter. "tell me. please."

my lip wobbled as he looked to me. his eyes swam with worry, sadness. bad news.

i bit down on my lip.

"rebekah has turned off her humanity,” he barely whispered.

i swallowed thickly, tears falling freely down my cheeks. "um-"

the floor creaked on the stairs. both our heads whipped towards the sound. caroline stared down at us, concerned.

"klaus? what the hell is going on?" she clutched the banister. she looked dreadful.

i brushed hair behind my ear, "here. uh, let's go up to my room."

he followed behind me up the steps, the old wood freaking beneath our feet. i couldn't help but notice him peer at caroline, sweetly, slyly, with the flicker of a cheeky smirk on his lips. she rolled her eyes- but i saw the red dance along her cheeks when he walked past.

i shut my door behind us with a click. then, i took a seat on the edge of my bed. my legs were shaking, and i couldn't trust myself to stand. caroline sat back at the vanity, continuing her makeup, hesitantly. she never could waste a single second, but she listened intently.

klaus looked around my room, admiring the decorations. his eyes fell on a picture frame on my desk. he walked over to it, picked it up gingerly.

"rebekah wasn’t doing well after…well, you know…”"

i felt sick. i hugged my stomach as if that would hold my together.

klaus continued, admiring the picture frame with a small smile. "she was at her worst, y/n. do you remember that diner that was slaughtered on the edge of town back in october?"

i nodded. caroline let out a little breath, a bit of shock.

klaus hummed, “that was our girl. part of the reason elijah suggest we leave mystic falls, was because rebekah was drawing eyes onto our family. we narrowly avoided our house being burnt down. that’s when i transferred it to your possession. and we finally decided it was time to leave. in louisiana, rebekah was murdering by the dozens. when confronted, she’d get hostile. threaten all of us with daggers, a white oak stake shed somehow come into possession of. she nearly killed kol-“

i shuddered. caroline was brushing eyeshadow across her lids when she saw me sob into my hand through the reflection of the mirror. she quickly set the brush down, vamped next to me on the bed.

i fell into her embrace. she looked to klaus, "maybe use less descriptive words, yeah?"

klaus shook his head, "kol fled. he was missing for three months. when he returned, she daggered him. i’ve kept him under just until we’ve got her under control. his bodies hidden, far from her influence. then, we managed to corner her one night. we were going to dagger her. that was my sister’s tipping point. and we watched as she shut down. she shut it off. rebekah went missing for another two months. finn just found her in paris. she was- she was worse, if at all possible. elijah and i managed to dagger her. we transported her back to our compound. shackled her, let her wake up."

caroline grabbed a tissue off my bedside table. she dabbed at my wet cheeks carefully. i sniffled.

klaus finished up, "i know daggering her for a hundred years would be easier. but i'm done punishing my family for what my mother did to us. i want to save her- i want to help her. she deserves that from me. but i need your help."

my eyes fell to the floor, as if answers lay there within the cracks of wood. i had to go. i had to help bring rebekah back. i had to be the glue for this fucked up family. with a gulp, i joked, "at least i won't be missing any school."

caroline giggled sadly. she brushed the hair away from my face, attempting to soothe me down. klaus stared at the picture frame. he carefully set it back down on the desk. rebekah and i smiled into the camera, dressed in our cheer uniforms. i peered at it, more tears clouding my vision. she was my twin flame, i just knew it. she was the best friend i’d ever had.

and she needed me. even if she didn’t know it.

"i have a room ready for you. a plane ticket for later tonight. i can have your things packed while you're gone."

i nodded. i stood, confidently this time, from my bed. my knees still shook as i said, "okay. let's do this."

the rest of the day flew by- not in the good way i thought it would, though. i attempted to smile my way through the ceremony, faking cheeriness in the endless photos with my family. i kissed jeremy, pretending like what we had was good, that things weren't going to change- that they had ever done so in the first place.

i didn't tell anyone. not my mother- who sobbed into a tissue the whole day- not jeremy- who'd bought me flowers, a bracelet. i let him clasp onto my wrist happily, kissed him in return for the gift. at the dinner my parents took us to, i let him make plans for our summer together. a camping trip in june, my mothers talks of move in day in august. i didn't even know where i'd be tomorrow, let alone september. college was going to be put on hold.

when the night was finally over, i decided to go to ‘bed’ early. i walked jeremy to the front door. leaning against the staircase, i watched as he slinked his jacket on. he ruffled the hair atop his head, messy locks from the long day.

my parents laughed in the living room, at some comedy on the television. i looked in their direction, lips sucked between my teeth. they were shaking.

i turned back to jeremy. he grinned at me, reached out for my waist. i fell into his embrace. he felt comfortable, safe. he would always be the better choice, i knew that. he represented everything that was good for me- home, familiarity, normalcy. because he was pure and easy.

i could learn to love him if i stayed. i could push myself off that cliff. i really could see myself choosing this path. because it was correct, on the balance scale of good and evil. his side would always win.

but i knew that would never happen. i could- but i didn't want to. i knew this trip, this journey back into the lives of the mikaelsons, was going to change my life forever. these final moments, in the front room of my childhood home, were my final ones as a human, teenage girl. the air was shifting- change was coming.

time was fleeting. and i had to go.

our fates did not match. i knew it deep in my soul. he was meant for this- a small-town, siding with the good guys, always winning. i wasn’t. i never had been.

i didn’t want that.

jeremy pulled back, hand sliding up to my cheek, holding my face delicately. his brown eyes were lit up, gentle and kind. there was so much goodness inside of him. his lips were moving, "i love you."

my brows curled up, sympathy covering my expression. my chest burned. my heart ached. this could be so easy, "i love you."

but i never wanted easy.

i wanted to have to fight for it. i wanted it to matter so much because it cost me my blood, maybe my life. life was precious, and we in mystic falls took it for granted too often. the mikaelson’s never did that. they never wasted a breath.

that was the kind of girl i had grown to be. all this time i had been avoiding supernatural conflicts, but now i was ready to solve them. ready to help- ready to lay it all down.

for love. for life.

i walked up to my room. klaus and caroline were there, waiting for me. i handed caroline three envelopes- three letters. my explanation. reasons. the tension in the room felt like i would never come back to this house. and, if i did, it would not be for a very long time.

at the gate for our flight, caroline held me tighter than i'd ever been hugged. she promised to call, made me promise that i wouldn't fall off the face of the earth. something in her eyes was lit anew- some kind of understanding, some fervent belief about me. about this.

i sat by the window on the plane, turned my body away from klaus. i watched my little town float down from beneath me, the plane rumbling up and away with intensity.

the mikaelson's needed me.

it was the first time in my life i'd ever felt that. usefulness- purpose. to care for, glue together, repair a family so broken. i didn't know why destiny had chosen me to be the one to bring them together. maybe it was my humanity, my ability to connect with life because i was living it- something. they all shared a compassion for me, and i them, that brought them together. though rebekah and kol's were misconstrued, i knew they could find peace. with my help.

as soon as we brought rebekah back. i didn't know if she'd see me and snap back into reality, but knowing her- she'd fight.

but when she'd come back, i knew it would heal. i knew she would finally break, finally forgive and hear me. it would patch my poorly stitched heart. life would be full again. even if i had to let kol go, fully, i knew a treaty could be drafted.

mystic falls was not my home. it had never felt like it. it never would. caroline was my friend- i cared for all of them. but they were not my family. my choice lay elsewhere.

i tugged on my necklace. the m gleamed under the dim lighting of the airplane bulbs.

i had a family. they were waiting for me to come back. they were waiting for me.

#elijah mikaelson #kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson x reader #kol mikaelson x you #rebekah mikaelson #the originals #the originals x reader #the originals x y/n

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gothgril69 · 11 months

Text

Levi Ackerman/Fem!Reader Royalty!AU

Summary: You dream of another life, a simpler one under the rays of the warm sun, where you find love and your brothers live happily.

But you're destined to serve, to be the black sheep of the family and married off to whoever your father pleases because your parents can't seem to harbor any love for you. Your brothers will serve in the war, side by side with their Chevaliers, and you'll be left to pick up the pieces or die trying.

And the one you thought always hated you, will be right by your side to catch you when you fall.

Overall Warnings: themes of sexism, minor character death, angst, depression, minor character death, smut (please check ao3 for all tags)

Chapter warnings: none

Chapter Length: 7.4k

ao3 link

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You wish you never stood up from your chair. You feel like you’re going to faint where you stand.

You wish this was all some sick joke Theo wrapped Auguste into playing on you and they would walk through those doors and relieve you of all your nightmares, but Levi’s features tell you it’s anything but. His eyebrows are furrowed again in sympathy and you look away to avoid the pity that seems to be the only thing he can look at you with lately in favor of looking back at Hange.

“No,” you whisper.

“We’ll hold your coronation–”

“No,” you interrupt, louder this time. “I can’t. I’m not– Auguste was supposed to– No, this isn’t right.”

“Aeron,” Erwin’s clear voice cuts through the fog in your brain. “Have a seat.”

You don’t object. You take a seat in the chair you sat in before, not bothering to push it closer to the table, and put your elbows on your knees so you can bury your face into your hands. You stare at the parquet flooring below your boots.

“Your coronation will be held in three days time,” Hange starts again. You’re silent, absorbing everything they’re throwing at you. “The people of Mirlenas need a queen to look up to, not a military force. We have a plan on how to get Zeke out of the picture if you’re willing to cooperate.”

You sigh and lift your head, crossing your arms in front of your chest as you lean back in your chair. “Do I have a choice?” You want to help your kingdom, but you never expected to be thrown into something so asinine.

“No, not really,” Erwin states plainly.

“Of course she has a choice,” Levi argues. It’s the first time you’ve heard him sound so strong since he’s come back.

“I don’t see another way of removing Zeke from the throne without her being involved, Levi.”

“She still–”

“I’ll do it,” you interrupt the two men. Whatever it may be, has to be better than what you are going through now; lying in your bed as an almost corpse. You can avenge your brothers, Furlan for Isabel, and prevent yourself from Zeke ever laying a hand on you.

“Aeron, we can talk about it first,” Levi tells you, walking towards where you sit.

You look up at him and frown before standing. “It would be for Auguste and Theo,” you mutter, “for Furlan.” He stops.

You look over at Erwin and Hange and they both give you a curt nod before going over the plan. It’s complex, full of uncertainties and gambles, but you trust them both. It doesn’t guarantee the safety of Grisha and Carla Jaeger, but it would save both of your kingdom's fates and you’re willing to do just about anything to prevent Zeke from getting his hands on anything he wants.

When traveling to Kaslogon yourself comes up in Erwin’s plan, Levi vehemently refuses. “Absolutely not.”

“Levi,” you try.

“No,” he cuts you off. “Absolutely not. I promised Auguste I would protect you and letting you onto their territory is quite the opposite of that.”

“You’ll be with me,” you try again, “you can protect me.” You look at him with pleading eyes, but you can see the pain in his grey gaze as he looks back at you from how close you are.

“I’m one man,” he states. “I couldn’t protect your brothers, or Furlan. If you died there it would just be another promise broken. Another meaningful life gone.”

“You’re well aware my skills are above theirs,” you argue.

“She needs to attend for negotiations. This is too urgent to wait on messengers, Levi,” Erwin intervenes – you’re grateful for the intrusion. “If we have any chance of sparing the Jaegers' lives we must act swiftly.”

Levi spins to face Erwin, helplessly arguing with him. “We should meet on neutral territory. Navarre–”

“Navarre will want no part in this.”

“It’s worth the effort, do you not think so?”

You stare at Levi, at the way his eyebrows furrow slightly while he practically begs Erwin to compromise – to anyone else you’re sure his frustration wouldn’t be so obvious.

Erwin is quiet for a moment before muttering. “We don’t have time for messengers to come back and forth.” The room is silent. You can feel the defeat radiating from Levi and the sympathy from Erwin as the two stare each other down, silently communicating.

“It’s settled then,” your voice cuts through the tension. “I’ll be going, and so will everyone in this room.” You walk towards the table and place your hands on the surface, staring down at an updated map of the lands of Mirlenas and where the front lines currently reside – your country has at least held their ground.

Levi curses and walks towards the balcony doors. “I need a moment,” he grits out and the doors slam shut behind him after he walks out.

—

He shouldn’t be as frustrated as he is. He should trust you, trust in your abilities and Erwin’s plans, but Erwin’s a gambling man that doesn’t mind losing nonexpendable people and you’re too stubborn to realize a bad idea. You’re smart, but he can tell you have the need to prove something – he’s not sure if it’s for anyone else but yourself – and he understands the feeling, but this has to be the most idiotic thing you’ve been willing to do.

Levi can’t fathom losing another person in his life even if it’s you, especially not when the two of you have seemed to have made some progress on whatever your relationship is. You let him hold you, found comfort in him, and he was surprised when he enjoyed the feeling of holding you and protecting you; enjoyed knowing you felt protected by him.

Now here he was, forearms leaning onto the pale stone railing of the balcony and trying not to lose his mind at the concept of you going head first into danger. He thinks you’re underestimating Zeke’s abilities and his scheming ways, not fully grasping what the man is clearly capable of, but he wants to believe you’re smarter than that. He’s not sure if it’s worse if you know and you’re still diving head first into the conflict or not.

He doesn’t know what the letter from your brother says, but he hopes Auguste told you not to be stupid.

He also has a feeling your brother has, instead, encouraged you, but you have yet to read it.

He shakes his head as he stares off into the castle gardens – the chrysanthemums have died off, leaving a brown spot in the flowers. Everyone has continued as normal, the servants doing their usual chores to keep the castle grounds in check and Levi wonders if they care about the deaths of his friends or the current state of war they’re in – or if they’re even aware. He spots Isabel tending to a tree growing yellow mimosa flowers and he sighs, knowing this plan has to work for not just the sake of the kingdom, but the people he cares about most. He has to trust you to make it happen.

—

It’s staring at you in the face, begging you to just snap it open and begin reading the perfect lettering you know that’s waiting for you on the page. The blue wax with your kingdom’s emblem on it, unbroken and sitting next to that spot of blood. You beg your mind not to wander on how it got there.

You’re sitting on your balcony chair, the white painted wood being quite uncomfortable even with a cushion under your body, as you stare at the letter from Auguste on your table. The biting autumn air doesn’t bother you despite only wearing a black silk robe over your thin nightgown; it’s the least of your worries. Your legs are drawn up to your chest, balancing your heels on the edge of your seat as your arms wrap around your legs. You want to open the letter, need to open the letter, but you can’t bring your muscles to move. You know as soon as you see the familiar handwriting on the paper that you’ll fall apart all over again, you’ll lose the streak you’ve gained of not crying.

It’s been two days since your meeting with Erwin and Hange – your coronation is tomorrow – and Levi hasn’t left his guard of your bedroom door ever since, remaining insistent that he’s always within your presence even if it’s behind closed doors. You’re grateful for his protection, knowing that his vow to protect your family has been extended to you and has remained even after your brothers and father are gone. He’s the only thing that’s remained static.

You take a deep breath, exhaling loudly as you abruptly reach out for the letter and snap the wax seal with a sudden burst of courage before pausing. You’re so close, so close to just reading those first words on the page, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. You groan loudly, setting down the paper on your table so you don’t wrinkle it.

A knock on your door. “Aeron?” Levi’s voice sounds through the painted wood. “Are you alright?”

No, you want to say. No, you feel like your heart is about to be ripped out all over again. “I’m fine,” comes out instead in a small yell so he can hear you.

He doesn’t respond, but you can hear his feet shuffle a bit before all is quiet again. You look back at the paper and grab it, unfolding it quickly so you can’t back down.

To my lovely Aeron,

Tears are already pricking your eyes, threatening to spill over and down your cheeks as you look up at the moonlit sky in attempts to quell them. You can do this, you tell yourself with a small, shaky exhale.

If you’re reading this, then I apologize with my whole heart for leaving you. You mean the world to me and always will, but I understand if you can never forgive me for leaving you alone on this earth.

He knew. He knew you’d feel unbearably alone, but you can’t imagine not forgiving him for leaving – it was never his fault, never something he would’ve done with malicious intent. He had to have known you would never think ill of him.

I want you to know that you are not alone, and you never have been. I’m writing to you with purpose, to inform you of who to trust when I’m gone and can no longer protect you myself.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, but you continue on as you swipe tears away from your face that have managed to escape.

I know going on the mission myself is a risk, but it’s a risk father insisted I make as the next heir to the throne and you must understand I would have never left if that wasn’t the case. You know how insistent the man can be.

But Zeke is an evil man and I could never leave you without protection against him – he will never have you, I assure you. I’ve spoken with Erwin about a way to prevent the marriage and I know you are an intelligent woman that is capable of ensuring your own safety.

I also know you are intelligent enough to know that Erwin was going to be my mate once I was king. A taboo surely, but one that I could not escape from nor would I want to. I can only hope that you find your own once the conflict with Zeke is no longer.

You’re smiling now, tears still trickling down, but despite your sadness you’re happy that Auguste found his true mate before passing instead of an arranged romance. Your smile falls when you realize how Erwin must feel, how devastating it must be to lose your own mate and live on.

I trust him with my life and I hope you will do the same, but I must also tell you something you may not be pleased to hear. You must trust Levi.

You frown. Not because you don’t trust Levi – you do – but Auguste knows how difficult the two of you can be together. You’re willing to put your differences aside to not condemn yourself to living in hell with Zeke if your brother is telling you to trust him. It seems Mrs. Kirstein may have been onto something.

He is the only one I truly trust to do everything within his abilities to protect you. Levi is an extraordinary man, in battle and in my personal life. The man has more depth to him than he cares to admit and I can only hope you give him the chance to do right by you.

I hope that Theo is still with you.

At this your tears are unstoppable, a small sob escaping you before you manage to slap your hand across your mouth.

If he is not then I apologize for him as well. He loves you as much as I do, dear sister, he was just not a man to express his feelings. Our care for you runs so deeply, second nature to us. You’re our whole world.

You’re strong. You’re capable. I’ve always known you would achieve greatness and I can only hope it comes easy to you. Don’t do anything to endanger yourself if you can help it. Only trust those that I’ve spoken of.

I love you,

Auguste

You set the letter down onto the table so you don’t tarnish the parchment with your tears before pulling your knees to your chest as tight as possible. Your teeth are clenched, your whole body tense as you try to reel in your sobs, but you feel like another one of your walls has been broken down. You know Auguste would have never meant to make you cry, but how can you not when the only two people who had wholeheartedly loved you are no longer with you. They’re simply another addition to the sky, two stars looking down at you with such sadness even through their soft glow.

You aggressively swipe at your face to rid the dampness from your skin and stand up, pulling your silk robe tightly over your body. The stone flooring of your balcony is cold against the soles of your feet as you pad your way inside and straight to your bedroom door, straight to the one man your brother told you to confide in despite your personal feelings. You turn the nob and whip the door open in one fluid motion, clearly startling the man that was leaning against the wall nearby.

“Levi,” you whisper, staring at his wide eyes that are regarding you with such surprise and worry.

“What’s wrong?” he frantically asks, seemingly snapped out of his reverie once he hears your voice ring through the solitude of the night.

“I– the letter,” you stutter. Your hand is still on your doorknob and you know you must look absolutely frazzled with red rimmed eyes and tear tracks on your skin.

He pauses at this, mouth opening and then closing, as he seems to think of what to say. You know he’s a man of few words, at least when he’s not replying with snarky comments back at you – you almost miss those. You stand back from your door, taking it with you to open wide in a gesture for him to come in.

“You’re hardly dressed for my company,” he mumbles, looking down at the ground. Of all the times for him to instate his chivalry, this couldn’t be a worse time.

“Get the hell in here,” you snap, your voice sounding weaker than you intended, but still having the same effect. He walks in quietly and you close the door behind the two of you before gesturing for him to take a seat on the bench at the end of your bed.

Levi watches you pace back and forth in front of him, arms crossed over your chest and your black silk robe flowing slightly behind you. You’re hardly dressed for this meeting between the two of you and certainly not for the chilling breeze that’s flowing through your balcony doors now. He stands for just a moment to close the doors and spots the letter on your table outside. Levi grabs it before continuing his task so it doesn’t blow away in the breeze that’s continuing to pick up outside and sets it down on the edge of your bed. You haven’t even looked up from the ground as you continue to pace back and forth.

“Aeron,” he mutters, breaking the atmosphere that was previously filled with the sound of your footsteps and the fire crackling to his left next to the balcony doors. It seems to work at snapping you out of your train of thought, but only for a moment as you glance up at him and move on to doing something else.

Your silence is killing him. He wonders if it could have been that bad, or if you’re just overwhelmed with your feelings after reading Auguste’s words to you. He sits there patiently as you grab the metal bed warming pan by the fire and stick it in the flame. You don’t move after that, just watching the fire dance in the hearth.

“Aeron,” he tries again.

“I read it,” you mutter, still staring at the fire. He figured as much with the way you were behaving. You look just as empty as the day you attended their funeral. “Do you want to read it?” you quietly ask, eyes finally coming up to meet his own. There’s no tears – you just look tired.

“What would you like me to do?” He doesn’t want to breach your privacy even if it might be easier to understand how you’re feeling. He’d rather hear it from you.

“I don’t know.” You abandon your stance in front of the fire and slowly pad towards him, your robe coming slightly undone as your arms fall to your sides and exposing your décolletage. He averts his eyes until you sit right next to him, his gaze coming up in surprise as you settle the side of your head onto his shoulder. You must be truly exhausted to be leaning on him like this. He doesn’t move, instead acting as your pillar of support as long as you need.

“Why don’t you tell me,” he suggests quietly, his voice barely a whisper in fear of spooking you away like a wild animal.

“Him and Erwin were going to mate,” you sigh. He blinks, digesting the news. Is this what you’re so upset over? It can’t be. He knew they were partners at least, but Erwin never hinted at the two of them becoming mates.

You continue on. “He told me to trust him and… I think I do now that I know that,” you mumble and lift up your head to look at him, your irises swimming with so much hidden emotion. He wonders if you still hate him. “He also told me to trust you.”

You stand up and walk towards the fire, grabbing a mitt off the wall next to the hearth to grab the bed warming pan to let it cool a bit before you stick it under your bed sheets. “Do you?” he asks instead of his real question, thinly veiling his insecurity about your feelings towards him. He never wanted you to hate him.

“Of course,” you reply easily, as if it was second nature. “I trust that you’ll protect me like you did with my brothers. I…” your voice trails off as you turn back to him, remaining your distance as you fidget with the tie of your robe in front of your torso out of nervousness. “I know now that you did what you could. I’m sorry, Levi, for ever saying otherwise.”

He forces himself to meet your eyes now that you’re apologizing. You look so sincere, so sad and sympathetic towards him when he should be the one looking at you that way. The warm light from your fireplace is flickering on your skin, illuminating you in the most ethereal way as you look back at him. He knows you’re waiting for a response, but what can he say to you when he should be on his knees begging for the forgiveness you’ve given to him so easily.

“I never hated you,” is what comes out instead of a thank you, instead of a returned sorry. He needs you to know.

“You’ve said that before,” you sigh.

“I meant it.” Levi stands and walks towards you, his body moving before his mind can catch up. He grabs your hands from the ties of your robes to prevent your fidgeting, looking down at your hands before meeting your eyes. “You’ll ruin the fabric with all your fidgeting.”

“That’s not really my main concern,” you breathe. He ignores your rebuttal.

“I’m sorry for all that I’ve done to you,” he tells you sincerely, holding your gaze so you know he means every word. “I’m sorry that you couldn’t trust me before now, and I’m sorry I couldn’t bring home Auguste and Theo.”

“Levi–”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you when you needed someone to hold you,” he interrupts you. “I promise I will do everything I can to protect you, to ensure your safety above my own if I have to.”

“Levi–”

“I’m not done–”

“It’s okay,” you insist, eyebrows dipping with sympathy. You gently take your hands back from his own and look down. “I know you mean every word,” you mutter. “I know I trust you because of Auguste’s reassurance on top of my own, but my–” you sniff and turn your head to the side to gaze down at the fire. You’re avoiding him. “My heart has been so torn.”

He wants to be the one to put you back together, to make it up to you and mend your heart when you thought only Auguste or Theo were capable of such a thing. How are you supposed to heal when you’re required to deal with a war you never thought you’d be a part of?

“Let me help you,” he gently pleads, sounding desperate even to his own ears as he practically begs you to let him in. He can’t allow another person around him to fall apart and leave.

“I’ll get there,” you tell him, meeting his eyes to assure him you mean it. “At least I think I will.” You shift your body away from him to grab the metal bed warmer now that it’s cooled off enough to place under your silk sheets. Levi takes it as his que to make his leave.

“I’ll be there tomorrow,” he promises, looking back at you with a hand on the doorknob. He wouldn’t miss your coronation even if he was on his deathbed – he owed it to your brothers as well as you. You set the metal bed warmer back next to the fireplace before walking back to the edge of your bed.

“Thank you,” you mutter back to him, looking down as you begin to slide your silk robe off your shoulders so you can get in bed.

Levi doesn’t stick around to see it fall to the ground.

—

You abruptly wake up sweating, shaking, as you throw your sheets off your body. Your thin nightgown is sticking to every part of you and you swipe the little hairs off of your forehead, panting as you try and catch your breath. The moonlight is casting a soft glow into your room through your floor to ceiling windows, the waxing gibbous soon turning into a full moon that would bless your coronation day. You assumed it would make you feel more calm, but you’re still reeling from your nightmare, Auguste and Theo’s marred faces staring back at you still.

It’s only a matter of a couple seconds after you wake up that Levi is turning the handle to your door and stepping through the frame, eyes wide and searching for any threat that could be lying in wait. “Christ, Aeron,” he breathes, leaning against your doorframe once he sees that there’s no threat, only you sitting up in your bed after waking from a brutal nightmare. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” you mutter, your voice sounding hoarse, hollow. Your breathing has leveled out by now as you bring both hands up to wipe more hair out of the way and swipe your cheeks free of any tears you may have left behind. You need some air. You stand up from your bed, disregarding Levi’s presence completely, and pad your way over to your balcony doors to allow some fresh air to flow through. The fire has dwindled down to a pile of embers and you relish in the cool breeze that soothes your sticky skin and allows the nightgown that’s barely hanging on your shoulders to flow freely once again.

“You’re going to catch a cold,” Levi’s voice sounds from behind you, closer than he was last time. You glance back to see that he’s closed your bedroom door and stepped inside, patiently observing you from the foot of your bed where he’s taken a seat on the bench.

“I’ll live,” you sigh, wrapping your arms around yourself. Your nipples have pebbled under the thin fabric, but you stand still despite the chill, knowing you’ll have to turn around to grab your silk robe.

Levi stands up behind you and lays your robe around your shoulders, ensuring the fabric falls over the front of your torso as well so you can slide your arms through. “Nightmare?” he inquires gently.

You turn around as you put your arms through the sleeves and face him. “Of course,” you mumble. He’s regarding you with one of the softest gazes you’ve seen on his features and you know he understands what you’re going through – he was the one to witness the events after all. “I’m assuming I wasn’t quiet.” You look down at the ground, embarrassed that he’s even here to observe your disheveled state.

“No, not quite,” he mutters, pausing before continuing, “I have them too.”

You look up at him. “You don’t sleep.”

“I know.”

You frown and move to sit on the bench. Maybe you should start your fire again now that you’ve allowed the chill from the night’s air inside your room. Levi beats you to it, wandering over to the hearth to stack the firewood that’s precariously placed next to it. “Tomorrow shouldn’t be happening. It should be Auguste,” you mumble, staring down at your fingers that have started to fidget again with the fabric of your robe.

“You’re right,” Levi says, his voice coming out strained. “I wish for your sake that it was so you would not travel to Kaslogon.” The fire is roaring with life now, flickering against his features and illuminating him in such a way you almost think he looks beautiful despite the furrow in his brows that tells you he’s upset.

“Levi–”

“I know you’ve made your choice,” he interrupts your distressed tone. “You are capable, fully, and I respect your decision, but I wish you never had to make that decision in the first place.”

“What’s done is done,” you sigh as Levi strides over to your bedroom door.

“Yes, I know,” he mutters. “I now intend to keep my promise this time of protecting you, even if it means my life is yours. I do not regret making that promise.”

You stare at him, wondering just how traumatized the man must be to devote his life to you. It crushes your soul to observe how broken he is – how broken both of you are – and you wonder if you would be able to stitch his heart back together like Auguste and Theo could always do for you. You wonder if he would try to do the same for you.

When you don’t say anything back he opens your door and steps through the frame, only glancing back to let you know, “Isabel will be here at dawn with Mrs. Kirstein and Mrs. Springer to help you get ready. I’ll be your escort.”

The door closes softly behind him.

—

It’s almost too much to handle as you open your door to allow Mrs. Kirstein and Mrs. Springer into your bedroom as they carry full buckets straight to your bathtub, Isabel following shortly behind with a large bundle of fabric in her arms. The two of you make eye contact when she looks up from the ground, freezing in her footsteps as she takes you in and you do the same.

“Let me hang this before you attack me,” she giggles and you can’t help the smile that graces your features when seeing the young woman’s youthful features light up. You missed her. You allow her to pass and shut your bedroom door, noticing Levi standing guard in your hallway and looking the other way as you do.

Once the dress Isabel brought in was hung next to your floor length mirror, you rushed her and attacked with a strong embrace – one she returned with equal enthusiasm. “I missed you, Is,” you mutter. You lean back and separate from her, grasping her hands in front of you. “I should’ve been there for you more. I’m sorry.”

“No,” she’s quick to speak, barely allowing you to get all your words out. “I’m sorry. I should’ve been there more for you. We needed each other and I abandoned my duties to you.”

“You have no duties to me,” you chide. “The only thing I ever hope for is your genuine friendship, and friends are there for each other just like we will be now.”

She nods, giving you one of her signature bright smiles as a strand of hair falls out from her updo. You tuck the strand behind her ear. “You’ll make a great Queen, Aeron.”

You give her a sad smile and recognize her own on her face as she regards you with such sympathy. She knows you don’t want to be doing this, but she’ll guide you through whatever you need and be there for you until her last breath just like you would for her. “Thank you,” you mumble.

“Aeron!” Mrs. Springer shouts as she exits your washroom. “Now is not the time to dilly dally! We’re running behind schedule!”

You share a look with Isabel and laugh, dropping her hands as you start to take off your silk robe to get prepared to bathe. “I think we have plenty of time, Mrs. Springer. It is hardly after dawn.”

The blonde woman frowns at you with Mrs. Kirstein’s sweet face appearing behind her. “Come on sweetheart, the water will get cold,” she coos at you, as if to coax you into the bath like you’re a kitten.

“I’d like to bathe by myself today,” you tell them, hanging your robe precariously over the stool for your vanity. It’s been a while since you’ve had a quiet moment to yourself in the bath, usually having Mrs. Kirstein bathe you when it felt like such an overwhelming task.

Mrs. Springer sighs while Mrs. Kirstein and Isabel nod at you and you finally slip yourself inside your washroom, closing the door behind you to give yourself the much needed solitude. You slip off your nightgown, allowing the thin fabric to pool around your feet before stepping out and into the tub next to you. The warm water feels nice on your skin, soothing your aching muscles from tensing up during your nightmares as you slide your whole body under the surface. You close your eyes under the rippling water, allowing it to soak your hair and block out any intrusive noises from your environment. It feels nice to just simply exist in the dead silence, all of your senses numbed so you can’t hear, can’t see, can’t smell, can’t taste anything as you only feel the soothing warmth of the water along your skin. The lavender and oats in a sachet they had added make the water silky and nourishing.

You lift your head out of the water, overwhelmed by the rush of water that flows off of your head and all of the sounds coming back. You press your fingertips into your eyes to rid the water so you can open them, lips slightly parted as you take a deep breath in after holding it for so long. You enjoy the sensation of your senses flooding back into you, feeling alive for the first time since Auguste and Theo left for their dreadful mission. You breathe in deeply, allowing the scent of lavender to calm your nerves – you wouldn’t allow your mind to go there right now. You needed to be strong in front of your kingdom, in front of the people that were relying on you to guide them despite your young age. Your people were not going to wait two years for the military rule to end – the conflict needed to end now.

You rush through your bath to keep yourself distracted from your thoughts, thoroughly scrubbing at your skin to the point where you almost rub your skin raw. The water drips off your body as you stand up, landing below with soft sounds of the droplets hitting the water. It felt good to bathe alone, to feel just strong enough to help yourself and not rely on someone else for such a simple task. Some days had felt hardly worth getting out of bed and now you felt like you could do the bare minimum despite the hollowness of your heart – perhaps you were just growing accustomed to the feeling.

You wrap your silk robe around you and exit the washroom, ready to have them dress and prep you for the day.

“She is in desperate need for a wax,” Mrs. Springer tells Isabel and Mrs. Kirstein right when you walk through the doorway.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” you state plainly. You were not one to partake in the new trend of waxing. You’ve heard that it’s painful and you found the idea of being perfectly smooth odd, but you suppose you wouldn’t know for yourself unless you tried it. Today was not that day.

“It was merely a suggestion,” she offers, slightly caught off guard by your appearance.

“I do not have a mate,” you sigh, “besides, they will love me regardless of my grooming habits.”

Mrs. Kirstein intervenes before Mrs. Springer can get a word out. “You’re absolutely right. Let’s get you dressed.” You stifle a laugh at Mrs. Springer’s mouth snapping shut.

You didn’t pay attention to what Isabel had been carrying when she arrived, too focused on the young woman herself, but now you’re gaping at the extravagant gown hanging near your mirror. It’s the most gorgeous dress you’ll ever wear in your life, clearly specially made just for your coronation day and you wonder if they began making it as soon as they knew you were now in line to become queen. Mrs. Kirstein takes your robe off your shoulders and you stand still, watching in the mirror as they work on you. Mrs. Springer throws a chemise over your head the moment the silk fabric is cleared, tying a small bow in the front to keep it secure. Isabel ties the skirt support around your hips at the same time, making sure the knot is secure before moving on to your corset that will go under the dress. Its more intricate than normal, the bodice practically glittering with how fine the fabric is. It’s a navy blue, matching your nation’s colours, with silver detailing – it should show through the dress. Isabel pulls it as tight as possible, practically squeezing the life out of you as she does it with a smile. You glare at her in the mirror.

Mrs. Kirstein and Mrs. Springer both grab the dress, carefully guiding it over to you to slide over your head. When they finish lacing it up you practically gawk at yourself in the mirror. The dress has a high neckline, coming up to almost your jawline and contouring your face. It’s a dark blue, just like your corset, but it has silver metal detailing that frames your shoulders and scatters down the front of your dress and the long sleeves. Silver accentuates your breasts and a sheer lace allows your corset and cleavage to peak through the fabric just enough to be slightly alluring. Its form fitting, but the skirt of the dress doesn’t stick to your skin, it flows freely with a slender form.

The three women usher you in front of your vanity where they can primp and prep you for the ceremony. Mrs. Kirstein and Mrs. Springer work on your hair, carefully accentuating your natural hair texture and keeping your hair flowing freely. Isabel does your makeup, but keeps it relatively natural with just blush and a lip tint – she knows your preferences.

By the time they’re done you have little time left until the ceremony where you’ll greet your nation that has gathered close enough to the castle walls for you to address them. From then on you know you have a long evening awaiting you full of entertainment and addressing public officials – all people your brother and father knew well, but not you.

You’re guided in front of the floor length mirror again and your breath hitches – you look beautiful. You resemble a Queen. You hold your head high as you stare at yourself, tilting your head so you can see your hair and makeup.

It makes your heart ache, desperation seeping into your wishes for Auguste and Theo to be here just so they could witness your coronation. You push the thought away again – you won’t allow tears to ruin Isabel’s hard work.

You see her walk up behind you slowly. “One more thing,” she mutters. She steps in front of you with a tiara in her hands, gently grasping the sides as she raises it to place it on the crown of your head. It’s simple, glittering with small diamonds and a sapphire gem in the center, but the metal encasing them isn’t too intricate. It still must have cost a fortune.

You stare at yourself for a moment longer when she steps away before you turn to all three of them. “Thank you,” you start. “Thank you for taking care of me, and being there for me when I could not be there for myself.” You give them a sad smile, hoping you convey just how much you truly appreciate them.

“We love you,” Isabel says, and you desperately wish to wipe the tears from her eyes.

“We’ll always be here for you,” Mrs. Kirstein mutters softly.

“We would hug you, but we’ll ruin our hard work,” Mrs. Springer grumbles, and you know that’s her own way of telling you just how much she cares.

You grin. “I love you too,” you laugh. “Is it alright if I have some alone time before the ceremony?”

“Of course,” Isabel says fondly. “Levi will knock when it is time.” You nod and the three of them disappear through your doorway.

You let out a sigh of relief, grateful to be alone before you must put on a face for your kingdom. Auguste was always so much better at it than you. You were hardly prepared to rule a whole kingdom without any formal training at all. You only had the education you were lucky to receive with Auguste when he taught you everything he knew from the regular education he was offered as a male.

You pace your room, completely lost in your thoughts, when Levi’s knock echoes through the room. “Come in,” you address him as you stop to stare at your door. He opens it and suddenly freezes – he’s staring at you with wide eyes. You panic for a moment. “Do I look alright?” you ask as you walk over to the mirror to inspect yourself. You seem fine.

He clears his throat and you turn around. He’s managed to close his door after shaking himself out of his stupor. “You look beautiful,” he mutters quietly – you blush. “Like a true Queen.”

You can feel your cheeks heat and you turn around to look at yourself once again in the mirror. You try to think if Levi has ever given you a compliment before and come up empty. You spin to face him once again when you’re sure the flush of your cheeks has gone away and find him standing much closer, looking down at your small bottle of lavender oil.

“You forgot something,” he mumbles when he notices you staring. He gestures for your wrists and you tear up at the memory. “What is it?” He’s inspecting your face, honing in on the tears that form on your waterline.

“Auguste,” you mumble, “he um,” you clear your throat. “He was always the one to…”

“I see,” he states, effectively cutting you off, but you’re grateful for the interruption. “I can allow you to do it yourself?” he questions, uncertain of whether or not you’d like his assistance like Auguste had given you.

You gently pat at your tears and Levi hands you his handkerchief, a soft white cotton with the letters “L. A.” stitched in the bottom corner. You dab at your eyes and offer it back to him. “Keep it,” he tells you gently.

“It’s yours,” you state the obvious.

“I know,” he mutters, “I have another. Keep it for now.”

You nod and set it down on the edge of your bed behind you, carefully folding the piece of fabric into a square. You gently offer your wrists to him once you turn back around and it only takes Levi a moment of confusion before he realizes what you want from him. He gently places one drop of lavender oil on each wrist and you smile.

“One more,” you whisper, gently guiding him to place one more drop on your wrists like Auguste had done before. His cheeks flush and he drops the lavender oil on your wrist and you spread the scent to your jaw and behind your ears since your dress neckline goes so high. Levi walks away to place the lavender oil back on your vanity. “I’m scared,” you confess now that there is some distance between the two of you.

“It’s only natural,” he provides, slowly walking back towards you. “You did not have all the preparation your brother received, but you’ll rule just as well.”

“How can you have such confidence in a woman that hardly knows anything,” you mumble, looking down at the ground.

“Because that’s not the woman I see before me,” he sighs and you look up. “You’ve had an education, you’ve been trained for combat, and you know every useful skill there is to know. I can see the self doubt you hold and I know it will soon turn into a strong insistence to prove everyone wrong that has ever spoken poorly of you. You are a stubborn woman.”

“You hardly know who I really am, Levi,” you frown.

“I have lived next to you for nearly half my life,” he huffs. “I think we know each other more than you are willing to admit.” He reaches forward and straightens your tiara on your head, a look that you can’t place in his eyes.

You turn away from him, knowing he’s right, and look at yourself in the mirror. You practice a small smile and notice how it doesn’t quite reach your eyes, but it’s the best you can do in the moment as you try to tell yourself that you’ll be okay. You realize you’re not as alone as you thought you were as you think of Erwin and Hange’s guidance, your companionship with Isabel, and whatever possible friendship is blooming between you and Levi as you glance at him through the mirror. He’s standing by the door, looking down at his hands that are clasped in front of him as he waits.

“I’m ready,” you state confidently.

#levi ackerman #levi x reader #aot fanfiction #aot levi #levi attack on titan #fanfic #levi ackerman x reader #levi x you #levi ackerman x female reader #royalty au #angst #fluff #historical au

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manawari · 10 months

Text

Sake of convenience.

honorable tags: @julyarya @i-bring-crack @winter-1023

In this world, there were two kingdoms that were in constant throes of war. The Red Flame Empire and the Beast Kingdom. They would clash even in the slightest misunderstanding, so it did not matter which who had started the fight. Even in the history itself said that the two had been warring against each other for centuries. Lord Antares, who was the immortal ruler of the empire, was the embodiment of destruction, he would hesitate to defend himself and his people against those who dared to look down upon them.

The Beast Kingdom, on the other hand, was ruled by the Beast Monarch himself. Their kingdom was known for its wildlife habitat and having wild animals as steads instead of horses, their soldiers were clad in beastly attires and had war paint over their bodies to assert ferocity to their enemies. They rushed for battle with no regrets and valor boiling within their blood. These traits were the things that rivaled the Red Flame Empire's ruthless prowess — these armies never backed down unless it was declared by their superiors.

"The empire had attacked the west and east troops. Luckily, there were no specified deaths yet, but a myriad of warriors had been estimated to be wounded." Min Byung-gyu, the head healer and a personal subordinate, reported.

Commander Baek Yoon-ho sighed and rubbed his left cheek with his hand. He faced his comrade. "And the rest?"

"Perfectly fine. But so far, the army hasn't reached them yet."

"They could be fighting right now." Yoon-ho said. He propped his elbow on the armrest and placed his chin on his calloused palm. If the western and eastern sides had been attacked, it was evident that the north and south would be touched as well. He was stationed in the north, therefore Yoon-ho guaranteed that the enemies would be here in any moment.

"Summon the tanks. Make sure they are in the front of the spearmen and change the warriors' weapons as well. The blacksmiths had finished the new batch." Yoon-ho ordered.

Byung-gyu dipped his head. "Very well."

Min Byung-gyu was his most trusted subordinate, a comrade more or less. He had been around Yoon-ho's life since they were children, hence forming a deep bond as brothers. He was in charge of commanding the healers once it was time to aid the wounded, but he also had a watchful eye on their troops and would be the one to report to Yoon-ho.

Yoon-ho was the descendant of the great Beast Monarch. The only one who shared the Monarch's blood after his mother. He led his warriors to glory and had won battles after starting his training in his youth, he learned how to tear his enemies apart like a wild animal who had gone rampage, everyone feared him as much as they respected him.

He was no stranger to the feud between his kingdom and the Red Flame Empire. He had heard tales of wars even when he was young. So, as expected, he grew hatred against the empire for disrupting the peace in his kingdom and wished he had a way to completely show that the Beast Kingdom was superior among the rest of the kingdoms.

Warriors outside soon began to clamor. Yoon-ho got up from his seat and shoved the curtain aside to leave the tent. His troops were running around the camp and were gathering the wild beasts into their armors as they geared up for battle. The horns blared and it was the telltale sign that the enemy had gone past the border. His heart pounded in his chest while a growl rumbled within his throat, Yoon-ho clenched his hands into fists and summoned his servants to bring his weapon.

The warriors got into their positions. The animals waited amongst them, growling in hunger for the blood of their enemies. The healers wore their protective cloaks, enchanted with a spell to not be easily damaged while they were tending the fighters, and the archers pulled their arrows whilst they stood farther from the rest.

The Red Flame army had arrived.

And with a bellowing roar of the horn, the beast army charged.

The two armies clashed viciously. They tore through each other's sides like two animals tearing into each other's flesh. The Red Flame army had their own magic in their sleeves, they were equipped with dragons that were less bigger than the ones Antares' arsenal, but they were strong enough to battle with the humongous wolves, tigers, lions, and leopards in the Beast Commander's army.

But those were not just the best weapons the Beast Monarch could offer. He had his utmost pride — his descendant.

A flashing light grew somewhere in the battle. A piercing roar shook the wind and the beast warriors shouted in excitement. Then, a handful of Red Flame troops were sent up the air and tumbled like mere sticks on the ground. Yoon-ho, now in his great white tiger form, surged through his enemies and lunged his claws at the dragons to throw them away where the lions pounced on them for the finishing blow.

Since he shared the same blood as his ancestor, Yoon-ho had the ability to transform into a white tiger, which was stronger than when he was in his human form. He could take down a dozen of soldiers if he used all his powers at once. Back in his kingdom, people would cower in fear before him, but when he was in the battlefield, the warriors cheered for him.

Yoon-ho slammed the back of his claw at the knight who was about to strike his sword at him. Satisfaction shrouded in his bright yellow eyes as nobody had landed a single scratch on his body.

. . . But that was until a blinding light arose from the corner of his peripheral.

It was one of empire's strongest fighters. General Cha Hae-in. Yoon-ho knew her as a great swordswoman, taking down her opponents as if she was dancing due to her fast movements.

It was obvious who would be facing her this time.

He lunged at her and blocked her attacks with his claws. Hae-in fixed him with a sharp glare as she thrusted her sword at him. Yoon-ho then grabbed his spear from his back and retaliated at her weapon, maintaining the grin in his beastly jaws as Hae-in clashed against his powers — he quite admired her skills and would even compliment her if they weren't enemies. All the other soldiers were way too easy for him to fight, he would rather face someone who was as strong as the Red Flame Empire's general.

Hae-in managed to land a strong kick on his abdomen and surged her sword forward to make him take a step back. She rose her sword and Yoon-ho blocked it with his spear. He could shove her away using his roar, but Hae-in would still get up and find an open area to scar him, so that would lead him to—

*clash!*

Yoon-ho collided against several of the warriors after a powerful blow got between his match. He quickly got up on his feet and met the one behind the attack.

"I can take it from here, general. Go and aid Tae-gyu against the wolves."

The Red Flame Empire's commander. Choi Jong-in. Otherwise known as Antares' right-hand man due to having the power to control fire. He was known as the "Ultimate Warrior" because of how he could take down his enemies and monsters in a storm of flames. He was the least liked person to Yoon-ho, who found the commander arrogant and holier-than-thou.

On the bright side, his hatred boiled his anger tenfold.

Yoon-ho rushed toward Jong-in. Luckily, he managed to dodge past the blow of fire and lunged his claws at his enemy. . . Only then to be brought to the ground. Jong-in reached his hand down and flames trickled across his hand to form into a fiery sword.

"Let's get on with this, shall we?" He smirked.

Yoon-ho snarled and pounced again.

Just because he was fighting against fire did not mean Jong-in already had the upper hand.

Yoon-ho relied on his physical strength that strengthened his powers, whereas the latter only had his abilities.

If he could break a wrist or two, the Beast Kingdom would certainly win this battle. And with the commander being injured, the Red Flame Empire would crumble into the lowest of ranks.

Yoon-ho could already sense it happening.

He struck Jong-in's arm. But Jong-in quickly landed a sizzling blow at his shoulder. Yoon-ho ignored the agony and continued to rain damages at his enemy. Victory was only a few inches closer. . . He could finish this battle off.

The horn tore through the air.

Everyone stopped fighting. The warriors looked behind them and saw their eagle screeching in the air, gliding in a circular motion.

Yoon-ho widened his eyes. No, that can't be—!

The Beast Kingdom had surrendered.

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The Beast Kingdom was anything, but known for backing down. They were ferocious and were willing to fight until their last breath. However, the kingdom had made its very first white flag in history. It left some warriors relieved that they had managed to stay alive, others had been left with dismay, and one walked out in indignation. It was none other than Commander Yoon-ho. All of the warriors had maintained their distance since it was never safe to approach a mad descendant of their monarch.

The rage kept on until they returned to the kingdom. It wasn't long until furnitures were thrown across the lobby, the servants winced in fear as some of them still stood by to assist their superior once he had calmed down. Miraculously, Yoon-ho was back in his human form, otherwise the Beast Monarch himself must deal with the situation.

Christopher Reed, one of the kingdom's prominent fighters, made his way into the palace and ducked his head from the flying vase. He cleared his throat. "Commander Yoon-ho, I apologize for making the decision to surrender without your permi—"

Yoon-ho grabbed him harshly by the neck.

"Hyung!" Byung-gyu exclaimed.

"You dare to go against your commander, you lunatic." Yoon-ho seethed. "You must be ashamed of yourself even though you are one of the kingdom's strongest fighters!"

Christopher grunted against his almost crushing grip.

"That's enough!" Byung-gyu spoke up. "I was the one who told him to announce our defeat!"

"You— what?!"

Yoon-ho released Christopher and left him cough for breath on the ground. The commander walked toward his friend, betrayal shrouding in his bright eyes, and his hands twitched against his sides.

"Eun-seok died." Byung-gyu said. His eyebrows furrowed and pursed his lips together. "They killed Eun-seok. . . If I hadn't ordered Christopher to release the eagle, you could've been killed as well!"

Yoon-ho widened his eyes at the mention of another close friend of his. Eun-seok was stationed in the eastern army, only to receive a tragic end to his life. Him, Yoon-ho, and Byung-gyu spent a lot of time together since they were young, so hearing such news, Yoon-ho didn't think he was angry because of their defeat, but rather, the unexpected death of someone he cared about.

"I will not apologize for it, hyung. I already lost a friend and you know that I can't bear to lose another." Byung-gyu told him. After balling his hands sighed. "I knew we shouldn't have been warring against them — they keep on taking too much lives!"

"You are correct, Healer Byung-gyu."

The two, followed by Christopher, turned their heads and saw the Beast Monarch, who appeared to be in the scene all along and had been listening to the conversation. He was in his human form rather than a large white wolf that he always presented himself to his subjects.

The Monarch stood tall and brute, a bit larger than Yoon-ho, and had spikey black hair and tanned skin. He wore a white fur cape over his shoulders that had two suspenders down to the hem of his pants, thus leaving the rest of his abdomen bare, and a long sword was strapped on his belt. Even though he was ageless, he resembled a man who was in his early thirties.

"Long ago, the Red Flame Empire had an alliance with the kingdom, along with the rest of the kingdoms except for the Shadow Realm, but that was until Antares decided to stab us in the back." The Beast Monarch explained. "We are only protecting what is ours, aren't we? Healer Byung-gyu, my condolences for your loss. That army of lizards had destroyed us enough — however, I believe I have a solution to end this war."

Yoon-ho raised an eyebrow. "What is it, your majesty?"

His ancestor grinned.

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"UAHAHAHAHA!" Antares' laughter was loud and could almost shake the ceiling of the throne room. The army had returned not long ago and it had been reported that the Beast Army had chosen to back down from the battle. The Destruction Monarch let out a wicked smirk once he was done guffawing at the news. "My, to think that army of rodents has chosen to declare their defeat against us, what a history to remember!"

"Yes, my Lord," said Jong-in from his seat near the throne

"Brilliant work to everyone." Antares thanked the salient members of the army in the hall. He raised his glass of monstrous blood wine and smiled in satisfaction. "Our empire will thrive and maintain its rank as the most powerful kingdom in the world. Now, next report."

Someone from the crowd cleared his throat and lifted his hand. "I do. However, this is a letter from the Beast Monarch."

"A letter?"

The soldier nodded and made his way to the front and handed the monarch a piece of folded paper that had a stamp of the kingdom's insignia in the center. Antares took it suspiciously and unraveled the paper to read its contents.

Jong-in took his cup and sipped on his herbal tea. The wine was too strong for his liking, so he had chosen to settle for the tea and to also ease his body after all those strong attacks made by his enemy. He too had been shocked to witness the sign of defeat in the beast army, however it looked quite farfetched to bask in triumph — it was an uncalled surrender that left the commander furious and Jong-in thought he was going to land one last attack before walking away.

Though, he had to admit. The commander was too powerful and had managed to go against his flames when most could've fled or burn to their deaths. Jong-in had expected nothing from someone who shared the same blood as the Beast Monarch, he knew he was going to have the toughest fight in his life when he had stepped in and replaced Hae-in's spot.

In the Red Flame Empire, there were humans who had the ability to be awakened into having powers. Choi Jong-in had happened to be one of those fortunate people, his ability was one in a million that no other living person shared the same power, and thus, his statues rose to the ranks of prominent figures in the empire.

He was almost untouchable when he summoned his—

"WHAT IS THIS?!"

Jong-in jolted back to reality and turned to his superior. "Is there something wrong, my Lord?"

Antares gritted his sharp teeth and tossed the paper to his second-in-command. Jong-in picked it up from the floor and scanned the words written in the epistolary. Suddenly, his eyes widened in aghast.

" — if you wish to end this war, bring your lovely general to the palace where a marriage will be commenced?!" Jong-in yelled the last word. "What do you mean they want an arrange marriage between General Cha and the Beast Kingdom's commander? This is an atrocity!"

"What?!"

The whole place erupted into a disorder. All of the council members and honorable guests spared glances at one another, asking various questions and expressing their shock. Meanwhile, Hae-in sat on her seat with an unfathomable expression on her face, not knowing how to respond to the fact that she would miss her chance to feel what would it be like to love just to be thrown away for a loveless marriage with someone.

"This can't be!" Lee Ju-hee, one of the army's healers, fumed. She stared at the commander with a plea. "Please do something! We must not simply give Hae-in away just because she's the only strongest female swordmaster!"

Jong-in gritted his teeth and fisted the letter. "These bastards are fooling us! Do they think we are willing to spare one of our own for this so-called peace?"

"Commander Choi, did you not read the entire message?" Antares said. "If we do not give what it is asked, the Beast Monarch will forge an alliance with the Shadow Realm and summon the Frost Kingdom for war. Are you sure you are prepared for another great war?"

"No. . . We have lost too many of our soldiers in this war." Jong-in grumbled. "So, we are left with no choice."

Hae-in's eyes began to glisten. Ju-hee settled back into her seat to comfort her friend. Everyone else flashed the commander with looks of trepidation while Antares watched him in anticipation.

"We are not going to give Cha Hae-in. Never." Jong-in continued. "But since they want an arrange marriage to form a treaty, we shall give it to them."

Everyone collapsed into murmurs. Antares raised a brow. "What kind of scheme do you have, Commander Choi?"

"The one who shall participates in this marriage is me." Jong-in declared. "I am not just doing this as a commander who is willing to do anything for his land, I am doing this as well as a friend. She does not deserve to be in a loveless bond with someone."

"Jong-in. . . " Hae-in spoke up. For a moment, she felt her heart shatter in the sacrifice her friend had made. "What if the Beast Monarch will not allow this? He can obliterate you and start a war nonetheless!"

Jong-in huffed. "Who cares, Hae-in? I'm the one who fought his lineage, therefore my decision can be reasonable." He turned to Antares. "My Lord?"

Antares hummed. After a moment, he nodded his head as if accepting the empire commander's decision. "You are correct. Perhaps this can be the only chance to unite our armies."

"It has been decided." Jong-in declared. "Ahn Sang-min! Write a letter to the Beast Kingdom."

Ahn Sang-min, the empire's head messenger, dipped his head. "Yes, Commander Choi!"

"I trust that everything will go as you planned?" Antares spoke.

"This marriage is only for unity, my Lord. Unlike General Cha, I do not have desires to fall in love when I had taken an oath to put this empire first and above all." Jong-in said. It did not matter to him if the commander of the Beast Kingdom had other preferences, he was just granting the letter's wish to commence a union.

Besides, he thought it was time to put an end to the ceaseless war for once and for all.

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"I hate this, you know?"

Yoon-ho glanced at Byung-gyu, who sat on the wolf's saddle next to him. He frowned at his friend's crestfallen face. It had been five days since the letter from the Red Flame Empire had arrived, saying that Antares accepted the proposal, but only under one condition — his commander would be the one to wed Yoon-ho, not the general herself. Regardless of the council's reaction, the monarch allowed it and sent another letter to the empire to prepare for the union.

Yoon-ho hated it. He hated how his ancestor used him as a bridge between two kingdoms. He reckoned that just because two representatives would join hands, it did not mean all the grudges he held against the empire would disappear.

"There are other ways to create peace, but marriage? This is too much." Byung-gyu said. "I will never forgive them for killing Eun-seok."

"Neither will I, Byung-gyu," Yoon-ho sighed. "But, since you hate them so much, why do you still chose to come with me?"

"You're the only friend I have left. Who knows what will they do to you if you don't have someone to trust."

His lips curled into a smirk. "You're saying that to the descendant of a monarch. Do you think I won't handle myself once I'm alone?"

"Who will treat your wounds then? A healer from the empire? Not a chance." Byung-gyu scowled.

Yoon-ho chuckled. Deep inside, he wished his friend could've crack a joke instead of expressing his immense hatred against the Red Flame Empire. But Byung-gyu had lost someone dear to him, way before he had met Yoon-ho— Eun-seok could've been still fighting on their to this day.

Perhaps Yoon-ho might've prevented his death.

They arrived in the empire an hour later. The people stood aside and watched the army with meticulous eyes. It appeared Antares had verily prepared the grand union, with red and white flowers adorning the pathway and the soldiers in their armors as they waited for the other party to reach the ceremony.

The Beast Monarch transformed into his human form and was the first one to walk in the aisle. The Red Flame army was settled on the right side while the Beast army would be on the left side. The monarch stood next to Ruler Go Gun-hee, who would officiate the union.

Antares appeared next and went to the front, wearing his Destruction Monarch attire which was a silver and red armor that had a reddish-brown tailcoat. His long red hair traveled down to the back of his waist. Even in his reserved posture, his eyes glowed red as if he was prepared to attack in case someone decided to wreck the ceremony.

Then, there was the commander of the empire. Yoon-ho's soon-to-be wedded.

Jong-in headed to the front and waited with his back facing the crowd. He wore a white suit and a red cloak that had golden ornaments around his shoulders, secured with a gold chain across his chest. Unlike Yoon-ho, who had a white with black stripes fur cape on his shoulders and wore a bronze armor on his upper body and a pair of furred pants. His face was painted with red warpaint under his eyes and on his chin.

Yoon-ho got off from his stead and stood in front of the aisle. All eyes were directed toward him. Taking a deep breath, he made his way across the stone path. It was like everyone was watching every step he took, even his breathing, but Yoon-ho showed no fear.

He was merely doing this for the sake of his kingdom.

He reached the altar and stood on Jong-in's side. He did not spare a single glance at the commander. All he cared about was to end this ceremony and the peace treaty was now officially formed.

After finishing his speech, Go Gun-hee extended his hands to the two commanders. "Allow yourselves to join hands."

They faced each other. Yoon-ho curled his lips into a snarl as he placed his calloused hands on Jong-in's. Gun-hee then placed a white cloth over their hands and wrapped the white fabric around them — the gesture was from the Beast Kingdom's customs — and placed a small circular on top, as per the empire's customs as well.

"Speak your vows." Gun-hee said. "I, Commander Choi Jong-in."

"I, Commander Choi Jong-in," Jong-in repeated the old man's words and began to proceed with his own, "shall take Commander Baek Yoon-ho as my partner and maintain this treaty for the rest of generations. I shall respect and cherish our bond as he is now part of my life."

"I, Commander Baek Yoon-ho, shall accept Commander Choi Jong-in as my partner for the sake of peace. And I will stand and defend him from anyone who dares to defy or ruin his name." Yoon-ho bid his vow.

"With your exchanged vows, you must swear to uphold it until your last breaths. Even in the afterlife." Gun-hee said. He laid his hand on each side of the candle. "Henceforward, may the heavens bless your unity."

And simple as that, the alliance had been commenced.

After taking off the candle and fabric, Gun-hee handed the two commanders their golden rings as the symbol of their union. They was forged by Antares and the engravings were from the Beast Monarch. The crowd clapped their hands in celebration of the peace treaty they had been longing to witness.

The feast was spent within the empire's castle. Many of the troops from both armies began to interact, but Byung-gyu was the only one whom Yoon-ho had not noticed to be participating in the celebration, hence the fact that he had not flashed a single smile in the entire day. Luckily, Christopher was there with him after returning from the crowd. Yoon-ho couldn't comfort his friend as much as he intended to when it was inappropriate to leave his enemy— partner's side.

The ring felt tight in his finger, so Yoon-ho would have to wear it on a chain around his neck once the feast was over.

His ancestor told him that he would stay in the empire until the day of his kingdom's annual festival. So that meant he would be living in the empire for seven months from now. . . Yoon-ho felt like he had been imprisoned.

"I presume this must be the time the army and I shall depart." The Beast Monarch began as Yoon-ho walked with him to the doors. "I expect good reports once we have meet again, my descendant."

"Yes, your majesty," Yoon-ho nodded as he tucked his hands to his back.

He watched the monarch get on his stead and led the army out of the empire. There hadn't been an hour since the feast, Yoon-ho was already missing his home. He wondered why must he be the one who had been sold off to a marriage he never even wanted.

Who knew the easiest way to peace was riskier?

True to his word, Byung-gyu stayed and joined him to follow the servants to the stairs as they would bring the two to their respective chambers. Much to his chagrin, Yoon-ho had to share a room with his "husband" rather than having his own.

When Jong-in saw them, he huffed. "I didn't know you'd still have a personal guard around you."

"He's not a guard. He is a healer." Yoon-ho growled.

"You could've asked for one in the empire." Jong-in said. "But since I have an inkling that you two must be friends, I won't say anything else."

"Your empire killed my friend." Yoon-ho glared icily.

"Yours took many lives in my army." Jong-in bit back. "And as much as I'd like to argue with you, I am exhausted from today's events. So, shall we, husband?"

Yoon-ho wanted to throw up. But since he didn't think he had some energy left to rebuke, he followed Jong-in inside and sent a nod at Byung-gyu in farewell as he went inside of his new quarters.

They laid on the same bed. Yoon-ho had his body to the window where a small part of the moon was peeking from the top. He tried not to turn his head over his shoulder, knowing well which situation he would end up with Jong-in — argue for the rest of the night. And tomorrow would be a big day, considering Antares had mentioned that the rest of the kingdoms would be paying a visit to felicitate the union between the two warring kingdoms.

His hand clutched on his pillow. Yoon-ho despised this treaty to his very cell.

#choi×baek arranged marriage au!#part 2 coming soon? 👀#solo leveling #choi jong in #baek yoon ho #choibaek #sl fics by rei

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karaonasi · 4 months

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KitKat: The Start of Summer (Prologue)

I’m going to try posting sections of Kit’s story straight on Tumblr.

Let me know what you think.

This is Kit’s story following through the game with his own additions and alterations.

💜💜💜

The Start of Summer

This summer wasn’t the typical start of summer.

For one thing, we had graduated from high school. At the end of the summer, Miranda, Terri and all of my friends would scatter though I would be staying in Sunset Bird. I, however, would be commuting to school--Prism Vista SoCal University. For another thing, Cove wasn’t here. Even for graduation. Not to mention that he had been gone longer than usual. I understood. This was one of the last times he would be guaranteed to have time to visit his mother without worrying about school or work. It had been a bit lonely. Cove and I were practically joined at the hip--or ‘clingy’ as people often liked to tease us. But what else do you expect when you spend every day of your life with someone over the span of ten years? Hell, some marriages don’t last that long. Honestly, Cove was more brother to me than best friend. And I loved him as if he were my brother--or perhaps more so without having the need to compete for the same parents’ attention and affection as normal siblings do.

Now we sat on his front stoop waiting.

You know that Cliff had acclimated to life here in Sunset Bird when his idea of entertainment was watching for the new neighbor to move in--as if he was one of the nosey elderly tourists rather than his own age of 36. But when he reluctantly left for work, Cove volunteered to keep watch for him and report on the situation. I would have chosen to keep him company regardless, but I especially wanted to spend more time with him after the past few weeks without my best friend. I was happily surprised when he appeared in my window seat out of nowhere last night. But we hadn’t had a lot of time to catch up. So as we sat, I told him about the graduation ceremony and about running into Shiloh the day before. In turn, he told me about the trips with Kyra into the city with all the bright flashing lights, as well as into the desert to photograph the landscape. That last one had to be a sight--my ocean-bred friend in the desert. And how his mom and he enjoyed the care package that Mom and I had baked for them.

The nice thing about Cove--the thing that’s always been nice about Cove is that you never have to do anything to have a good time. No planned activities. No required conversation. You could just relax in each others’ company. And when we ran out of updates, that’s what we did.

Until the taxi pulled up across the street.

I nudged Cove’s shoulder, gesturing with my chin, my curiosity now piqued as to what geriatric couple would be taking over the Mean Not-Grandparents’ house this summer.

Then the door opened.

My eyes widened and my mind went blank for a moment. A nudge to my shoulder broke me out of my trance. Cove’s expression was akin to ‘Get a load of that guy.’

And yeah. I was.

Because it felt like the whole world had burst into color--which was ironic since the person was styled entirely in monochrome. I watched in wide-eyed fascination. Our new neighbor wasn’t some cranky older adult. He looked to be our age--or perhaps a little older, I thought as I watched the confident way in which he strolled to the taxi driver’s window, paid, then tapped on the frame of the car to signal it could depart. As if he did this all the time. I don’t think I had been in a taxi in my entire life. But this guy did it like it was no big deal. Between that and his fashion sense, I figured he must be a city kid--not Prism Vista or probably anywhere else in Southern California. Perhaps New York or somewhere on the northeast side of the country where black and white were favored over pastels and bright colors.

When he had finished with the task of dismissing the taxi driver, he just as confidently strolled over to where we were sitting. I liked the way he moved--with a graceful swagger, a cocky smile in place upon refined features. Yet nothing about his demeanor seemed snooty or stuck-up as he approached. “...wow…” I breathed, not realizing I had said it aloud until I heard a snort and a disbelieving, ‘Really?’ from beside me.

But…yeah. Really.

There was just…something….about this stranger…

I couldn’t even put my fingers on it. Just that it was like something inside myself…woke up upon seeing him. Like the world bloomed into color--no, more than just color. It was like the world around me burst into sensation or perhaps it wasn’t that the world had changed. Perhaps it was that I had changed. I could finally feel something that had been here but dormant all along. I had never felt this feeling before, this…being drawn to another person in more than a friendship way. I mean, I did have a reputation at school of being quite a flirt. But everyone around me always kinda also knew that there wasn't anything behind that. No intent on making a friendly flirtation into ‘more’. Because I had never felt ‘more.’ Not like my classmates, teammates, and friends did--all the little crushes and relationships that seemed to be integral to high school life. I just…never felt that way about anyone. And I didn’t want to lead anyone on by ‘giving it a try’ as I had some friends try to urge me to do. I know some people thought that there was something wrong with me--I had overheard it more than once. I even caught my parents worrying about it one night. And if I’m being honest, I have kinda worried if something was wrong with me too--if perhaps there was something inherently…broken about me.

Except.

Except none of this was precisely true. I had experienced something. It had been brief. And it had been years ago--so long ago that I can’t even be sure how much of it was real and how much had been embellished by my own imagination.

But I had at least felt something.

At that Summer Soiree. When I had been thirteen. That one solitary dance at the Cypress with that one mystery boy…hell, I never got so much as a name. And over the years even his face had faded. I just remembered dark hair…beautiful brown eyes with amber tones…and the way he danced with me…how his slender body pressed against mine, expertly guided mine in dance…

So many nights I spent reliving those few fleeting but perfect moments, my body remembering how it felt for the first and last time…

Until this moment…

Until this person.

“Hello folks, who might you be?”

“We’re the neighbors.” Cove’s voice once again pulled me out of my thoughts and memories

“Hallelujah.” The newcomer’s voice was deep and had a purring quality to it that seemed to resonate somewhere deep inside of me.

Wow.

This time I didn’t say it out loud, but the sentiment was still there. The stranger was striking—and not just due to his clothing style. He had even dyed his hair to match the black and white ensemble. Dedicated. He stopped just before us, one hip cocked, thumbs hooked into his pockets in a way that was both casual and just…would ‘sexy’ be the right word? It was hard to know, never having applied that term in earnest before—even in my mind. His fingers sported thick black metal rings, some fingers having more than one. Artfully ripped grey jeans openly displayed tantalizing peeks of creamy pink skin. I swallowed hard as I tore my gaze away from the stranger’s bare skin—feeling my cheeks tingle slightly.

“I’m Baxter Ward. It’s excellent to meet you, neighbors.”

Damn, even his name sounded expensive. But then he stepped closer, holding out a hand in greeting. My brain, which hadn’t yet fully recovered from its .exe failure, went on autopilot offering a hug as I would to anyone else I had friendly or affectionate feelings towards—with the solitary exception of Cove. Why Cove? Because my best friend and I were already so close, so entwined that hugging him just felt like crossing a line somehow.

And before I knew it, this hot stranger—Baxter—was in my arms. He wasn’t hesitant about it either. He stepped into the embrace, arms wrapping around me in turn…even giving me a light squeeze. Over his shoulder I could see my best friend raising one wavy eyebrow at me in disbelief. I simply gave him an expression that said ‘I don’t know either’, because I genuinely didn’t know what had happened. Not that I was complaining in the slightest because, yeah, hot guy.

When we stepped back, my mind had finally caught up enough to find my manners—rather than, you know, feeling up the new neighbor. “Welcome to Sunset Bird, Baxter. I’m Kit.”

Baxter gave me a delighted grin “Hey Kit. I am quite keen on getting to know you better this summer. We could be good friends.”

I flashed our new acquaintance a big friendly smile though internally I felt a wave of unaccustomed bashfulness because, though the words were commonplace enough, the purring tone of his voice as well as the emphasis he placed made what he said sound vaguely…suggestive…which…um…okay, so I just have no experience to know what to do with that…

Cove apparently did know how to take that. He made an amused scoff from my other side. That gained the attention of our neighbor.

“And you are?”

I cringed inwardly as I watched Cove avoid Baxter’s hand extended for a handshake by crossing his arms over his chest. No way that the newcomer could have known that it takes Cove time and familiarity to warm to new people. So perhaps it was good that my welcome may have been a little too warm--to counterbalance my best friend’s cold reception.

“I’m Cove,” he replied flatly.

Despite the rejection, our new neighbor wasn’t deterred. Instead, his brown eyes lit up. “Now wait, is that a nickname or your real name?”

I wasn’t surprised by Cove’s wary response. “It’s just my name.” It wasn’t the first time someone had chosen to point out the uniqueness of his name. It was a common occurrence actually whenever someone new met him at school.

Still, Baxter wasn’t put off by Cove’s demeanor. Rather, he only seemed more intrigued--even charmed, letting out a small laugh. “Your parents knew exactly what they were doing. I can’t imagine a more fitting name for the face I’m seeing.”

I smirked. He wasn't wrong. I had long suspected Cliff to have been some exiled merman with how he seemed to live as much in or by the sea as he did on land. It was only fitting that he had named his son something nautical. But Baxter had somehow sensed this about my friend--after only having stepped foot in our little town mere moments ago.

“Cove, that’s gorgeous,” he continued.

My smirk dropped, along with the buoyant mood I had been experiencing. And I didn’t understand why.

“It’s--it’s really not,” Cove stammered.

Perhaps my drop in mood had been in response to sensing Cove’s mounting distress. I knew the best way to get Cove to snap out of his discomfort and focus on me rather than our visitor. Teasing. “No, I agree. It suits you.”

Now Baxter turned a playful smile on me. “Nice to see someone else knows. The impact might’ve faded for you living with it this long, but I promise to the onlooker, it’s a knockout.”

Cove’s body stiffened and I winced--though I wasn’t sure that my reaction was entirely for Cove’s benefit. I opened my mouth to warn the stranger off further compliments to my freaked out best friend when the boy in monochrome took a step back, holding his hands out in a placating gesture, as if trying to soothe a wild animal. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t intended to mean more than it did. I like your name, but you don’t have to mind that. I’m patently against stepping on anyone’s toes.” He chuckled to himself, the sound charming.

I tilted my head, trying to decipher what exactly the visitor meant by it. Cove raised an eyebrow at me and I returned his silent inquiry with a shrug of my own. I felt eyes on me and I turned my attention from Cove back to Baxter--to find him…staring at me.

“Hm?” Okay, so it wasn’t the most elegant way of asking what was up. But I guess it didn’t matter since he didn’t respond. Instead, he kept his gaze in my general direction, finger tapping on the side of his chin. Cove and I exchanged another silent conversation of ‘I don’t know what the hell is going on either’. I wasn’t quite sure what to think of this guy. He had gone from ‘Oh my god, HOT!’ to disconcerting and a bit over the top to…is he having a staring seizure or something? I watched as he seemed to snap out of whatever that was. His lips curled into a lop-sided smile and, to my surprise, he pointed directly at me.

“We’ve met before.” He said it confidently.

I blinked. What?

Cove repeated my thought aloud. “What? When?”

I think I would have remembered someone who dressed like…this…

Baxter’s grin widened and I felt my cheeks heat slightly as the boy increased his scrutiny of me, tilting his head. “It’s embarrassing, but I haven’t remembered that part yet.” He laughed, obviously finding the byplay of confusion between me and Cove quite amusing. Then sparkling brown eyes settled upon me again. “I’m getting there. Don’t tell me. I know you want to, but do not. It’ll come to me.”

I blinked at him. Don’t tell him? Yeah, that wouldn’t be a problem since I was wracking my mind and couldn’t come up with anyone who resembled this outlandish figure in looks or mannerisms. Our gazes each traveled up and down the other, continuing to search for the answer.

Only…wait…

That feeling I experienced when Baxter first appeared on our street…as if I had seen colors for the first time…had felt my mind and body respond to someone with more than just friendly interest for the first time…that wasn’t the first time at all--was it? Our eyes met and I saw the same spark of recollection in his…felt a spark jump between us--the same spark that I had felt only once before.

With a snap of his fingers, he announced the realization we both had come to. “The Cypress at the Summer Soiree. Of course.” Then Baxter started to reminisce about the details. But I didn’t need further reminding. It wasn’t like I had ever forgotten that magical night…

💜💜💜

Next up: Flashback 5 Years Ago:

#baxter ward #kitkat #our life #fanfic #our life beginnings & always #our life beginnings and always #gb patch games #our life baxter #olba #our life: beginnings & always #olba baxter #cove holden

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