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seriouslysnape · 3 years

Text

Shattered

Draco Malfoy x Astoria Malfoy x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of cheating.

Request: Hi, I was one of the many who requested a one shot.So I wrote that I'd like for you to write an angsty one shot with Draco, Astoria and reader. I heard this sound: So she gets the flowers right? And I got excuses, I got used and shattered." And it stuck with me still 🙈 You can make the end happy or sad. However you like.Thank you 😍💚 @perfect-storm95

A/N: Well, well, well. This has made me hate Draco for the remainder of the day. Also, I’m gonna throw a little twist into this.

Word Count: 3,714

“All you have to do is say yes.”

It took a respectable amount of control to ignore the lurch in your stomach when he put his arm around her shoulder. It took even more restraint to avoid the heat in your throat when he laughed at something that she had spoken. And it took absolutely everything in you to ignore the way your heart ached when he kissed her the way he had once kissed you.

It had been a wild evening for sure, to say the very least. What was supposed to be a lighthearted night full of making fond memories and even more fun, you quickly discovered that you’d be having to face a part of your past that you had yet to come to terms with.

It had been almost three years since the last time you had seen Draco Malfoy. It had been three years since the last straw had been drawn and you left his home in hurt tears. Three years since you had walked out of his life, making a silent vow to never see him again, even if it meant going out of your way to do so.

You never thought you’d reunite quite like this.

Luna Lovegood had always been a dear friend of yours, despite the fact that she was a year younger than you. Her kindness and eccentric nature had appealed to you in the best of ways. The bubbly Ravenclaw girl had blossomed into a wonderful woman, and it overjoyed you to see her beginning this new chapter.

Her wedding was exactly how you had imagined it. It was far from traditional, but it was stunning nonetheless. Luna was a radiant bride, and you were beyond happy for her. Your good mood, however, tanked when you saw the blonde headed man at the reception afterwards. Even though it had been a few years, Draco still looked as he did the night you left him.

It was a real punch in the gut to see him there, and you were almost convinced that someone had spiked your drink. You were sure that you were dreaming, or that he was just a weird figment of your imagination.

He was still tall and lean, and you couldn’t help but allow your eyes to follow the chiseled line of his jaw. He was wearing his nicest, favorite suit that still fit his frame perfectly. His voice was still serious and assertive, and his tone was still as it had always been. Make no mistake, it was still the same Draco Malfoy.

To make matters worse, it hurt like hell to see his arm wrapped around the very woman that caused your breakup.

You wouldn’t deny that there was bad blood between yourself and Draco. Things had ended on a rotten note and things were never discussed, so it was only natural that there was unspoken tension.

Now, you were sulking at the table just behind theirs, not even interested in the engaging conversation happening around you between friends of yours that you hadn’t seen in quite some time. You just couldn’t seem to look away. It was like if you looked away and then looked back, he wouldn’t be there anymore. However, your silly belief was dismantled when his gaze suddenly caught yours. Yep, he was definitely real and sitting right in front of you.

Because you knew those piercing gray eyes anywhere.

You half expected him to pay you no mind and look away as if he hadn’t seen you at all, maybe even ignore your presence completely. But no, his glance locked with yours for a solid few seconds. Minds racing, hands shaking, hearts beating.

You were actually the first to look away, attempting to shift your attention as if you hadn’t just seen the only man you ever loved after so much time had passed. Even if you had been listening to what was being said around you, you were sure you wouldn’t have been able to hear a thing due to the thump of your heart in your ears.

A deep blush had tinted Draco’s pale cheeks, and he had yet to look away. Your mind trailed to the woman who was obviously his date, and it was someone you REALLY had hoped you’d never see again.

Astoria Greengrass was a beautiful woman. She was someone that you couldn’t help but compare yourself to. All the way from her voluminous hair to her impeccably pedicured toes. You had always thought of her to be the model of a picture perfect woman. But you never once thought that she was supposed to be competition for you.

It was a moment that would be permanently burned into your brain. No matter how hard you tried to forget (even going as far to use a spell on yourself) it still made its way back to you. It was a sickening sight, walking into your shared home with your boyfriend of 6 years to find him in bed with someone that had been under your nose the entire time.

It was a massive blow to your pride, trust, and your heart. Draco had pleaded with and begged you to forgive him and to let it go. In between your screams and cries, he promised that things could work out and that things could be the way they were before.

You had magic for a reason, and he could easily obliviate all three of you and no one would ever know. But he knew how dishonest that would be. And you hated dishonesty.

Astoria had ducked out of the house just when your fight was getting started, which was good for her because you were sure you would’ve done something you might regret later. You and Draco had fought for hours. So long that your throats had gone raw from all the yelling and your eyes were almost puffed shut from all the tears. You had told him it was over in a burst of anger and hurt, and left him alone in your bedroom almost falling to pieces.

And that was the last time you had seen Draco Malfoy.

His presence hadn’t totally disappeared from your life. His name popped up in conversations from time to time, and you’d often stumble upon pictures of the two of you during happier times. But what you had not realized until seeing him again was that he had not once left the safety of your heart.

You were still in love with Draco Malfoy.

Your experience at Luna’s wedding had taken a full turn, and now you found yourself incredibly uncomfortable. You shouldn’t have been so surprised that he was there. Luna and Rolf had invited just about anyone they had ever been in contact with. Still, it was throwing you for a loop that Draco was sitting right in front of you.

It was the beautiful, gentle music that began to play overhead that finally snapped you out of your daze. Along with Luna and her newly wed husband, a few couples had broken away from their designated tables to slow dance on the dance floor of the reception. It didn’t take long for the floor to be crowded with people.

As hard as you tried, you couldn’t fight the urge to let your eyes flicker back to Draco. It was almost like an instinct. It was a natural behavioral thing that was still as sharp as ever.

He wasn’t looking at you anymore, but his eyes were fixed on Astoria, who he had guided up from her seat and taken by the hand. A hot boiling sensation was building up in your gut at the sight of him leading her to the floor as well, holding her close and swaying with her to the comfort of the music. It wasn’t long before you were out on the floor as well, being spun around carefully by Blaise Zabini, whom you had been friends with throughout your years at Hogwarts. But your attention was far from Blaise.

Jealousy ran rampant through your core as you watched the way Draco’s hand rested on the small of Astoria’s back, his fingertips dancing across her. He looked down slightly into her dazzling eyes, a smile appearing on his face that was nothing short of lovestruck.

He had once danced with you like that. He had once held you like that. He had once looked at you like that. Granted, the situation usually involved the two of you alone in your living room under nothing but candlelight and music from one of your favorite shared records. But those were the moments that had always stuck with you.

The times where nothing else mattered but being together. The moments where the two of you felt like the only people in the world. When loving each other unconditionally was the only thing you ever wanted to do. Perhaps that was the hardest part of it all. The fact that you never knew where things went wrong. Your perfect relationship had crashed and burned unexpectedly with little explanations to why Draco decided that suddenly you weren’t enough.

Draco caught you staring for the second time, his focus visibly moving from the woman that was currently in his arms. He had this look of uncertainty in his expression, but as if he had already made his mind up. Before you could process anything that was happening, Draco broke away from Astoria, and he was standing next to you and Blaise.

“Mind if I take [Y/N] from you, Blaise?” Draco smiled radiantly at his old friend.

Your stomach hit your shoes seemingly. Blaise smirked, still as coy as always.

“Only if I can have a dance with your lady.” He grinned.

Draco chuckled lowly, allowing Blaise to take Astoria for a while. Despite everyone maneuvering around you, you felt like you were standing alone with Draco. You could only look at him, words failing to form. His hand trembled faintly as he held it out to you.

“Care to dance?” He offered.

Your head was screaming no, but your heart was screaming yes. You weren’t sure if this was a good idea or not, considering you weren’t sure what this was all about. But as always, your heart’s desires won out.

“Sure.” You replied meekly.

A million fireworks exploded through you when his hand touched yours, pulling you in to him. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, his hands resting on your back the way they had with Astoria. He stroked your skin through the material of your dress, as lovingly as he had all the times before.

You were equal parts frustrated and desperate. Frustrated with yourself for still longing for him and missing him after all this time. Desperate for things to be the way they were before.

“You look wonderful.” He spoke quietly, careful not to disturb the peace of the atmosphere.

Oh, his voice. It was still deep and husky, but full of thought. It sent shivers down your spine that you hoped he couldn’t feel with his hand resting there.

“So do you.” You responded, wishing your heart would slow just long enough to get a hold of yourself.

He continued to hold you flush to him, taking in the scent of that same perfume you always wore. It flooded him with memories and remembrance.

Truth be told, you knew all along that you couldn’t get away with never seeing Draco again. Even if you hadn’t been together for quite some time, your circle was just too close to successfully dodge him forever. But this was not at all how you thought it would go.

If you were being completely honest, you thought you’d casually run into him in Diagon Alley or somewhere that you went often. You always imagined that you’d spot him from across the room and be filled with such a rage that you’d be too angry to speak to him or would explode into a huge fight scene. You’d storm out without ever trying to make real contact with him, and you’d try your hardest to go back to living as normally as possible. This was far from what you had ever dreamed of.

And you weren’t as angry as you always thought you’d be. Admittedly, there was still a pit of fury from the fact of his infidelity. But there was another feeling that seemed to wash that pit out completely. You weren’t angry at all really.

You were sad.

“How have you been?” He asked, stepping in sync with you to the music.

“Staying busy with work. How about you?”

You were a little shocked when he didn’t burst into rambles about everything you had missed out on in the last few years. Instead, he only shrugged as if he wasn’t too impressed with himself.

“I’ve been good. Mother and Father still ask about you.” He answered.

A quick glimmer of joy beamed on your face. Draco’s heart leapt with thrill.

“Do they? Oh, how are they, Dray?” You asked with eagerness to hear about his parents well-being, not even realizing the use of his nickname.

His heart swelled.

“They’re the same as always.” He replied.

You nodded briefly, changing the subject.

“That’s good,” You prompted, only continuing once nothing else was said; “It’s been a while.”

“It has. I’m happy you’re doing well.” Draco answered.

You had been trying to ignore it, but the cold metal of his ring was prevalent through your dress, and it told you everything you needed to know.

“So, you’re married now, huh?” You wondered aloud.

The blush returned to his cheeks, and he sucked in a breath.

“Yeah. Almost a year now,” He confirmed; “You?”

A flush of embarrassment and dread flooded your body. You didn’t want to have to tell him that you hadn’t moved on when he clearly had. It wasn’t that you hadn’t tried to meet and find someone new. A few boyfriends had come and gone since Draco, and while they were all great, none of them had captured your heart. Even if it had felt like it at times, the world didn’t stop spinning the night you left Draco Malfoy, so you knew there was someone else out there.

You just wished they’d come sooner rather than later.

“No, not yet. I suppose that I haven’t found the one yet.” You said in a way that was unintentionally hurtful, but still left a sting in both yours and Draco’s chest.

It felt like a lie to say that. You had convinced yourself that Draco was “the one” long ago. From time to time, you still thought that. Draco himself would confess that he had felt the same way about you. Spending forever with you was all he had ever wanted. Getting married, having kids, and falling more and more in love everyday.

He’d never forgive himself for messing all of that up.

Silence grew between the two of you. Something that never would’ve happened if the two of you were still together. You and Draco had never run out of things to talk about.

You remembered all the nights that he made love to you until neither of you could hold yourselves up. How could you forget the way he cherished every part of you as if it were crafted by the highest hand?

You recalled the way you craved his touch and how he could have you in a puddly, whining mess underneath his hands within mere seconds. You missed his touch. You missed all those times.

You missed him.

Now here you were. Like two total strangers who knew everything about each other. It was heartbreaking.

“I think about you. A lot.” Draco abruptly professed, his voice even quieter on the off chance that Astoria and Blaise might come back waltzing by.

Something you could only describe as pure shock blindsided you. You certainly weren’t expecting THAT at all. As much as you wanted to fling yourself at him, you knew this was wrong. Your head shook, feeling as if it weighed like a ton of bricks.

“Stop.” You meant to say as a stern instruction, but it came out more as a pleading whisper.

He chuckled at himself incredulously, not acknowledging your beg.

“It’s the truth,” He remarked; “You know, I thought that marrying Astoria would fix me. I thought it was going to fill the piece of my life that was missing.”

Your head was still rocketing off flight responses. Every neuron howling at you to stop listening. To ignore. To get over it. To forget. But you wouldn’t.

You couldn’t.

“But I was wrong. I was so wrong. It took me far too long to realize that you’re the only thing that could ever fill that missing piece. You complete that picture,” He explained; “You complete me.”

It was near impossible not to listen to what he was saying. If your heart were beating any harder then it would surely explode. Your eyes were shining with tears that you had been holding back for far too long.

“Draco, I...” You trailed off, your voice quivering.

“Shh. Don’t cry, my pretty girl,” He hushed; “I can leave her, you know. Astoria will never be what you were. I know it, and she knows it. She’ll never say that though.”

It seemed that you were growing more stunned with each word that fell from his lips. He was offering to leave his wife for you. He was more than willing to just drop everything for you. It was a lot to consider...but you weren’t exactly leaping at his invitation.

“We can start over. Just you and me. We can be everything we were before,” He said, leaning in to where his lips were just barely brushing your ear; “All you have to do is say yes.”

It was a hell of a tempting offer. You had a chance to go back to him, to make up for all the time that you lost. You could make more of those amazing memories that you held so close to you.

You could have a life with Draco once again.

As much as you wanted to cave and give him everything you possibly could, there was something that was stopping you from giving in to him. Because even though you had this chance, you knew that it would never be like it was before.

“I can’t.” You hushed out.

You could feel Draco’s heart sink. Now tears were brimming his own eyes, blearing his vision and causing a lump in his throat.

“Please, darling...” He begged; “Why not?”

You shook your head again, holding your breath to stop your own tears from falling down your cheeks. It was killing you to do this, but you knew it was the right thing.

No matter how bad it hurt.

“Because you and I both know it won’t be like it was before. No matter how many times we try to start over,” You told him; “You broke my trust. You broke my heart, Draco. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive you for what you did.”

Determination and desperation flashed over his features.

“It was a mistake. A horrible, stupid mistake that I know for a fact that I never would’ve let happen again if you had stayed.” He pleaded.

You swallowed hard, forcing a sob back down.

“And if I had stayed, I’d never be able to go a day without wondering if that’s actually true.” You recanted.

Draco was shattered. He felt like he had been broken into millions of tiny bits that were thrown across the world.

Now he truly knew how you had felt since you left him.

“[Y/N], I-“ He went to say but was cut off.

“I’m sorry, Draco.” You apologized, eyeing Astoria and Blaise beginning to dance their way over to the two of you.

A single tear slipped from Draco’s left eye, the tear rolling down all the way to his jaw. The fate he had feared the most had just come true.

He had just lost his forever. And there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

All he could do was make sure he bared the rest of his heart to the woman he loved the most.

“I love you.” Draco proclaimed.

One of your hands came to cup his face, his head lulling in your soft touch.

“I love you, Draco.”

Before anything else could be said, Astoria and Blaise were at your side. She looked at Draco and back to you, you weren’t sure what it was, but she almost looked as if she knew everything that had just been said.

Without another word, you and Draco stopped dancing. Your arms fell from around him and his hold loosened so you could step away. Astoria’s hand rested on Draco’s shoulder as if to usher him away, but his hands were still holding yours.

His icy eyes looked into yours, as if to silently ask you once more if you would come with him. The look in your eyes told him that your mind was made up. You backed away from him, his fingertips only falling from yours once you were far enough away that he physically couldn’t reach you anymore.

Astoria whisked him away once you were out of their space. Both of you feeling much more empty than before. The rest of the night was much quieter for you. You kept to yourself, feeling as if you had been gutted completely.

And that was the last time you saw Draco Malfoy.

Your first wish of never wanting to see him again came true after that night. You never saw or heard from him again. You constantly found yourself wondering how things turned out for him. You wondered if he stayed with Astoria. You wondered if they had kids. You wondered if they spent forever together.

You wondered if they did all the things that you and Draco were supposed to do.

Your heart never fully moved on from Draco. And his never moved on from you. It was a reality you were never able to come to terms with, but there was one truth that you became all too familiar with.

Sometimes there just are no happy endings.

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy oneshot #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #seriouslysnape

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alwaysachorusgirl · 3 years

Text

Almost Perfect

Pairing: Frederick Chilton x Female Reader

Word Count: 2,595

Square: Date Gone Wrong

TW: none, just a lot of sweet, romantic fluff (because I like my Frederick soft, sweet, and romantic)

Tagging: @thatesqcrush, because it’s her Bingo

Notes: So, this ended up being a lot longer than I thought it would. And it looks like some of my paragraph formatting got screwed up when I copy/pasted from MS Word. Sorry about that!

Frederick Chilton took a deep breath, straightened his posture, and mustered up every ounce of courage that he had. He wasn’t expecting you to say yes to having dinner with him. In fact, if he was being honest with himself, he was fully prepared for rejection. He could only hope that you wouldn’t laugh in his face. He took one more breath and knocked on your office door.

“Come in!” You looked up and smiled when you saw your boss, colleague, and friend enter your office at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane.

“Good Afternoon, Y/N, I hope I’m not disturbing you?”

“Of course not, Frederick! Please, come in! I always have time for you.”

Your smile was warm and kind and made Frederick’s heart skip a beat. He tightened his grip on his cane, hoping it would be enough to hide the slight shaking in his hand. The other hand was holding a patient file, his excuse for coming to see you. His eyes followed you as you stood and walked around your desk to stand in front of him. He had fallen hopelessly in love in with you months prior, after the “incident” with Abel Gideon. You had been there at his bedside when he’d woken in the hospital after surgery. Somehow you managed to come visit him every day, all while getting your own work done, helping to run the BSHCI, and picking up his slack. After he’d been released from the hospital you had organized and scheduled his home care nurse and physical therapist. You had come to see him after you got off work, bringing groceries, cooking meals, and even helping with his laundry. You never asked for anything in return, always claiming that seeing him getting better and stronger was all you needed. He still didn’t completely understand it all, why a beautiful goddess, such as you, would even bother with a miserable wretch like him. But you had, now poor Frederick was too far gone to turn back.

“I, uh, came to return this patient file,” he said, holding out the folder to you.

“Thank you,” you said, taking it from him. “I hope everything was in order?”

“Oh, yes! Your notes are impeccable, as always,” he replied. “You always notice the smallest details that everyone else misses. It makes my job easier in regard to prioritizing cases.”

“Thank you, Frederick, that’s very kind of you to say,” you blushed at his praise, and nervously tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. An awkward moment of silence passed before Frederick spoke up.

“Actually Y/N, there’s something else I’d like to speak to you about, if that’s alright?”

“Of course, it’s alright, Frederick, why don’t we sit down?” You looped your arm through his and led him to the couch. He waited for you to sit down and make yourself comfortable before he occupied the spot next to you. “Now, what did you need to speak to me about?”

“Ah, yes, well…” he paused, completely at a loss for words, and horribly second-guessing himself. His eyes met yours. You were giving him the sweetest and most gentle look. You truly were the most rapturous beauty he had ever seen. He was completely undeserving of you, and he was so certain that there was no way you would ever agree to going out with him.

“Frederick? Are you alright?” Your eyes were now full of concern. You took his hand and held it between both of yours. You could see that he was anxious and nervous about something. You slid closer to him, knowing that your presence seemed to have a way of calming him. “It’s okay, Frederick, I’m right here. You can tell me anything.”

“I truly adore your company,” he finally stammered out.

“And I adore yours as well,” you replied. He breathed a sigh of relief at that.

“Are you, by any chance, busy tomorrow night?”

“No, Frederick, I’m completely free. Did you have something in mind?” You felt the butterflies fluttering in your stomach, and your hopes rising. Was he about to finally ask you out?

“Would you be interested in having dinner with me? I mean, I understand if you’re not—” He was shocked into silence by feeling of your soft lips kissing his cheek. Then he saw the radiant smile on your face.

“I would love to have dinner with you, Frederick, nothing would make me happier.”

**************

The following evening Frederick arrived promptly at your apartment at 7pm sharp. You buzzed him in and checked your make-up one final time. You didn’t know what restaurant you were going to, you had asked him to “surprise you”, and the only hint that he had given you was that it was a newer, upscale place. You heard his knock on your door, and looked down at your dress, hoping it would pass muster. You checked the peephole to verify that it was him and unlocked and opened the door.

You couldn’t help but smile when you saw him standing there in the hallway. His suit was different than the one he’d been wearing at work that day but was still clearly designer and perfectly tailored. His cane was in one hand, a bouquet of red roses in the other. His own jaw dropped when he saw you. He couldn’t help but wonder as to how he’d gotten so lucky.

“You look beautiful, my dear,” he breathed. He held out the roses. “These are for you.”

“Thank you, Frederick,” you said, kissing him on the cheek, “They’re beautiful, and you look incredibly handsome as always. Come in, please; do I have time to put these in water?”

“Plenty of time, “Frederick replied, stepping inside, “the reservation is for 7:30 and the restaurant is only a few blocks away.”

He glanced around your apartment while you went into the kitchen to find a vase. It was small, but cozy and warm, and decorated to suit your tastes. He wandered over to the shelves where you kept your books. He wasn’t at all surprised to see all of Jane Austen’s works, along with collections of literary essays and criticism of her work. He pulled your well-worn copy of Pride and Prejudice off the shelf. You had started reading it to him while he was in the hospital, but he had been released before you could finish it, and the place where you had left off was still marked.

“So, are you going to tell me where we’re going tonight?” You called from the kitchen.

“How do you feel about La Tempio’s?” He answered, putting the book back on the shelf. You came out of the kitchen with roses now in a vase, and your eyes wide.

“That new fancy vegetarian place that all the restaurant critics are raving about?”

“The very same.” He checked his watch. “And I think we should get going.”

You put the flowers down on the kitchen table, and grabbed a light shawl and your purse, double checking to make sure that you had your keys, phone, and wallet. You heard a fire truck go by outside, sirens blasting, but thought nothing of it. You took Frederick’s arm and let him lead you outside to his car. You were so busy looking at him that you didn’t even register the second fire truck screeching by your apartment building, or the dark gray storm clouds gathering overhead.

*****************

You and Frederick saw the commotion as you turned onto the street where the restaurant was. There were two firetrucks outside one of the local businesses. Firemen in full gear were scurrying around. Well dressed people were the standing across the street looking concerned. Frederick pulled his car into the first open spot he saw and turned off the engine. You both and walked a bit closer to investigate. You saw a young woman in black dress pants, a white button-down shirt, and a matching maroon vest and necktie and called out to her.

“Excuse me? Miss? Do you know what’s going on?”

“Kitchen fire at La Tempio’s,” she answered, walking over to you. “One second I was serving a table, and the next thing I know, there was smoke coming out of the kitchen, and the Maître D was asking everyone to evacuate quickly and calmly. If you had a reservation, you might want to reschedule. I don’t think the firemen are going to be done anytime soon.”

A loud clap of thunder rumbled overhead, and you all looked up at the darkening sky.

“That doesn’t sound good, “the young woman said. “You might want to head back to your car before- “She was cut off by the deluge of rain that suddenly fell down from above. You quickly thanked her and took Frederick’s arm. You didn’t want him slipping and falling, and you were both already soaked to the bone.

You tried to get back to the car as quickly as possible, but that was when one of your heels slipped and snapped off. You felt your ankle twist at an odd angle as you lost your balance and fell forward. Frederick’s arms reached out and caught you before you hit the pavement, but you felt a sharp pain shoot through your ankle.

“Shit!” You cursed. “I think I just twisted my ankle!”

“It’s alright, Y/N, just lean on me, I’ve got you. We’re almost to the car,” Frederick desperately tried to comfort you. You reached down and took off the broken shoe, limping while Frederick managed to get you both back the car. Once you were inside you both stopped to take a breath and figure out your next move.

“My dear, I’m so sorry. How’s your ankle? Would you like me to take you to the nearest emergency room or urgent care? Just go back to your place?”

“I think I’d much rather go back to your place, if that’s alright,” you said, taking his hand and squeezing it reassuringly. You weren’t ready to give up just yet. You knew how nerve-racking it had been for him to ask you out. He needed this. You needed this, and you knew there had to be a way to salvage the evening. “You need some dry clothes and I’m sure you have something that will fit me. We can order take out and stay in, maybe watch a movie? Your couch is extremely comfortable…”

Frederick kissed your hand and nodded. He couldn’t believe how calm and understanding you were being about all this. He started the engine, carefully pulled out of the parking spot, and started the drive back to his place.

**********************

If anyone had told you that you would wind up on injured on Frederick’s couch tonight, you would have told them they were crazy, but here you were: lounging as comfortably, wearing a pair of his soft pajama pants and one of his button down shirts, your injured ankle in his lap while he tended to it. He finished wrapping and securing the ace bandage, then picked up the waiting towel and ice bag from the coffee table. He draped the towel over your ankle and carefully placed the ice bag on top of it.

“There, “he said, appearing to be quite satisfied with his work. “How does that feel? Has the pain reliever kicked in yet?”

“I think it’s getting there, and you’ve done a wonderful job, Frederick, thank you.”

“It was the least I could, especially given how horribly things have gone tonight.”

“Frederick, please, none of this is your fault! There’s no way either one of us could have predicted what happened.”

“All the same, Y/N- “he was cut off by the sound of the doorbell. “Ah! That would be dinner!” He carefully moved your ankle off his lap and onto a pillow. The couch was full of extra pillows and blankets that he had retrieved while you had been freshening up and changing clothes in the downstairs bathroom earlier. You stretched out while he went to the door. He came back a few minutes later with a large paper bag in his hands. He placed it on the coffee table, then went to the kitchen and came back with silverware, napkins, a bottle of wine, two glasses, and a corkscrew. He had ordered take out from your favorite Italian place, and you watched hungrily as he pulled various containers out of the bag.

“Baked Penne with meat sauce, and extra mozzarella,” he announced, handing you a container and a fork.

“Thank you, Frederick, I love how you always remember my favorite take out orders.” You took the food and dug in. It was perfect, just the way you liked it.

Frederick sat and stared at you for a moment, completely mesmerized. After the way the night had gone, he had fully expected you to reject him, but you were still here, with your kind eyes and sweet smile. He also got a secret thrill from the sight of you wearing his clothes. He thought you looked better in them than he did, but he would never say that aloud. Instead, he reached for the television remote, turned on the TV, and handed the remote to you.

“Put on whatever you like,” he said.

You took the remote and started searching through Netflix until you found exactly what you wanted. You looked at Frederick hopefully.

You okay with The Princess Bride? It’s my favorite.”

“Whatever makes you happy, Y/N,” he replied, opening the wine and filling the two glasses.

You both sat in comfortable silence, eating, drinking and watching the movie, pausing it briefly so that Frederick could clean up and put your leftovers in the fridge.

“Would you like another glass of wine?” he asked when he returned. He saw that you had rearranged yourself so that your ankle and the pillow under it were resting on the coffee table.

“No thank you, but do you know what I would like?” You patted the space next to you, and he sat down, a bit confused by the question. You lifted his arm and put it around your shoulders. You restarted the movie and put the remote to side before wrapping your arms around his sturdy torso and snuggling against him. You placed your head on his chest. Frederick had gotten the message by this point and wrapped his other arm around you. You smiled and snuggled as close as you could. “There, that’s much better.”

Frederick gently kissed your forehead.

“I’m sorry again for everything that’s happened, “he said softly. “I just wanted everything to be perfect.”

You looked up at him and it broke your heart to see such sadness in his eyes. You reached up and caressed his cheek with your fingers.

“Frederick, stop apologizing. This is perfect.”

You pulled his lips down to meet yours, soft and tentative. Frederick went stiff for a moment from shock, but recovered, pulling you close, his lips melting into yours. He had dreamed of this, but never thought it would happen. He could have sworn your lips had been made for his, the way they fit so perfectly. You pulled away to catch your breath and smiled.

“You know, I usually don’t kiss on the first date, but I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”

“So have I, Y/N, for months now, in fact. So, does this mean you’ll give me another chance at taking you out to dinner?”

You kissed him again and snuggled into his chest.

“Yes, Frederick, I’m yours.”

#thatesqcrush vday bingo #frederick chilton x reader #frederick chilton #hannibal #hannibal fanfiction #fan fiction #writing #raul esparza

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gracegriller949 · 3 years

Text

Shining Devotion

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 2.3k

Pairing: DinLuke, Luke Skywalker/Din Djarin

A/N: Read the full fic on Ao3 here

Chapter 5

By the time the three arrive back at the hut, Grogu is well into his nap, snuggled warmly in his new sling. The Mandalorian reaches his hands into the sling to carefully pull out his son.

Luke watches as they disappear into the hut. He walks the short distance to the beginnings of the new hut and is met with a familiar beeping that instantly makes him break out into a grin.

“Hey Artoo, I need your help.” Luke says as he lowers to one knee and puts one gloved hand on the top of the little Astro droid.

Artoo chitters and bounces in response.

“Yes, I know, I’ll finish it soon. Something’s come up. I need to comm my sister.”

Artoo lets out a few more beeps to signal that he has started the comm to Leia. Luke rises from his knee and stands with his hands pressed together, waiting for the holo to connect. He feels a figure come up behind him and stand next to him.

“What is this?” the Mandalorian grunts as he comes to stand next to Luke, his arms crossed over his chest plate.

Just then, a holo of Leia Organa appears in front of them.

“Luke!” she says. “I’ve been meaning to comm.”

“Me too, Leia. It’s good to see you.”

And it is. Even through the Holo, Leia is gorgeous. Her hair is in her usual braid, her clothes impeccable to the last stitch. There’s a glow about her that Luke can’t quite place. Leadership looks good on her.

Her eyebrows furrow.

“Luke, what are you doing with the ruler of Mand’alor?”

Luke is taken aback.

“You recognize him?”

“Of course, Luke. He’s one of the most powerful rulers in the galaxy.”

Luke glances over at the Mandalorian, still stoic, his stance unbothered.

“That’s why I called you,” he says.

“And here I thought you just wanted to drop in on your dear old sister. It’s always something.” Leia shakes her head, but she doesn’t look angry, just amused.

“Do you have news of what’s happening on Mandalore?” Mando cuts in, finally breaking his silence.

“I would think you would know more about that subject, Mand’alor. Why do you ask?”

“There’s been an uprising. I’ve been removed from the throne.”

Leia looks mildly shocked.

“This is the first I’ve heard of this, but I guess it shouldn’t be a surprise since Mandalore is a part of the Outer Rim and is not under New Republic jurisdiction.”

“And for good reason,” the Mandalorian says, his tone icy.

Leia bristles but keeps her composure.

“If you are no longer the Mand’alor than who is?” she asks.

“We were hoping that you could tell us.” Luke cuts in.

“Well, I’m sorry, I don’t have much information for you. As I said, the New Republic doesn’t have much pull on Mandalore. But I think I know someone who can help.” Leia says as she smiles knowingly.

“And who might that be?” asks Luke.

“Never mind that. I’ll let you know what I find.”

“Thank you, Leia.”

“May the Force be with you,” Leia responds, smiling gently at her brother.

“May the Force be with you,” Luke says as he smiles back at her.

Leia dips her chin to the Mandalorian, and he nods in return as the holo ends.

“Thanks, Artoo,” Luke says.

The droid chirps in return. Mando uncrosses his arms and looks down at the droid in front of them.

“And this is?” he asks.

“This is R2D2. This little droid and I have been through a lot together. Isn’t that right Artoo?”

Artoo beeps in affirmation then whirls around and returns to his place inside of the unfinished hut.

“I’m not big on droids,” the Mandalorian says.

“How could you not love Artoo? He grows on you, you’ll see.”

Mando scoffs through the Modulator and takes a step towards the unfinished hut. He inspects the intertwined vines and the messy foundation.

“Looks like this structure could use some work,” he says.

“It’s a work in progress,” Luke responds, examining the hut himself.

The Mandalorian finishes his inspection and walks over to the fire pit area in front of Luke’s home. Mando sits down on a log near the pit. He picks up his damaged rifle and starts to fiddle with it. Luke lingers by his project before sitting on another log across from the Mandalorian.

“I’m sorry you had to sleep out here, that couldn’t have been comfortable,” Luke says.

The Mandalorian shrugs and continues working on his rifle in silence.

“Once I get the new hut up and running, you can stay in it.”

Mando looks up.

“That’s okay Luke, I—”

“I want you to, Mando.”

“Thank you,” the Mandalorian says, hesitating before accepting the offer.

Luke nods, staring at Mando’s visor for a few beats before rising from the log and moving back towards the unfinished hut.

Closing his eyes, Luke concentrates on the foundation of the hut. He listens to the wind, the rustling of the leaves, the metallic clicking of Mando’s gun as he works on it a few meters away. Luke reaches out his hands and imagines the branches and vines of the hut building up towards the sky and interlocking together. He opens his eyes to watch as the vines twist together and up. Little leaves popping up all around it, littering the roof.

“How did you do that?” a voice says from behind him.

Luke whips around, startled.

“You know, not many people are able to sneak up on a Jedi.”

“I’m not most people,” says the Mandalorian.

Luke laughs. Mando doesn’t.

“It’s something new. I’ve been working on it for a little while. I don’t know what it is. All I know is that I can feel the flow of the Force through all living things, and with that, I can make things grow.”

Suddenly, Luke feels slightly faint. He stumbles a little and the Mandalorian shoots out a hand to steady him, gripping his arm. Mando walks Luke over to the log and sets him down in front of it with his back propped against it.

“Does this usually happen?” asks Mando.

“That’s the most I’ve done at once. I’ll be alright, just give me a few minutes.”

“Kind of like the kid?”

Luke feels a small smile dance on his lips.

“Just like the kid.”

After those first few days, time seems to go by leisurely.

They fall into a rhythm.

To Luke, it feels like everything has changed and yet still everything is the same. Him and Grogu train every day. They spend hours on their respective meditation stones, concentrating on furthering their powers. Luke takes him through a few physical exercises as well, but Grogu isn’t always as cooperative for those.

The main difference between then and now is that now, there’s fresh meat in the conservator when they get home. There’s a rifle propped against a log in front of a fire. There’s an extra crate pulled up to the rickety old dining table. There’s a Mandalorian walking out of the hut to greet them when they get home after a long day of training.

Mando sleeps in the new hut, a refuge for him to take off his helmet and relax. He spends most of his time hunting for food and scavenging for parts. So far, he’s only found a circular barrel that he cut in half and made a comfortable bed for Grogu. He himself, however, sleeps on the floor of his hut on an old piece of cloth and a waded-up shirt as a pillow. Luke has offered multiple times to find him something more comfortable, but the Mandalorian always refuses.

Grogu is as meddlesome as always, choosing to sleep either in Luke or Mando’s hut, depending on whose arms he finds himself in by the end of the day. He’s also taken to playing with Artoo. He will whip around and beep at Grogu as he chases the droid on his tiny little feet.

Artoo has found a new home in Luke’s hut, fitting snuggly between Luke’s bed and the conservator.

Luke comms Leia as often as possible.

She hasn’t had much word of what’s happening on Mandalore. Apparently, the whole planet has gone dark since its Mand’alor was forcefully removed. Leia assures Luke that her contact is going to pull through, but Luke doesn’t have the utmost confidence.

Sometimes the trio will take a break from the monotony of their newfound routine. These are Luke’s favorite days. He dons his makeshift sling, carefully sliding Grogu into it.

Since his outer shirt was ripped when he was stabbed with the glass, Luke has taken to wearing just a white undershirt and his black pants, opting for a more casual everyday look. It reminds him of his time on Tatooine, often an unwelcome reminder.

But Mando makes it worth it.

On their walks, the Mandalorian is decked out in as much armor and weapons as he can possibly get his hands on. Sometimes also carrying a bag of food in case the little one gets hungry during their miniature adventures.

As the days go by, Luke finds himself being able to read the Mandalorian’s body language more and more. He can tell that he’s uncomfortable by the stiffness of his shoulders. His happiness can be seen from the way he scratches Grogu’s head or when he’s sitting relaxed out by the fire. Luke also catches the way the Mandalorian looks in his direction sometimes, but Luke can’t always interpret what exactly this means. But most of all, Luke can see his frustration from the hours the Mandalorian spends looking for a way off the planet by the way he stomps ever so slightly and hangs his head heavily when sitting with Luke and Grogu.

Finally, on one walk, Luke takes them closer the remains of the Rebellion than he had dared to go to before. Most of the structures are dangerously unstable so Luke never had the courage to get them any closer. The walk is also a lot farther than any other that they’ve taken up to this point. Grogu always seems to get fussy before Luke can even get them there. But today, the tiny Jedi has decided to take his nap early, snoozing lightly in his sling.

The three stand in front if the pyramid-looking building, its vast walls scaling upwards towards the sky. There doesn’t seem to be any visible entrances from where they’re standing, but there are some fallen structures that lead up to a large hangar platform. The crumbling yellow brick is smattered with vines and leaves, making the whole structure look eerie and ancient in all its massiveness.

“This is all that remains of the Rebellion,” says Luke, scanning the outside of the pyramid.

“Why haven’t you shown me this before?” asks the Mandalorian, switching something on his helmet.

“I’ve already been through most of the building. The Rebellion cleared out all the valuables. There isn’t much to see. The only thing that I was able to get out of it was the conservator back at home. It took a lot of work to get it from here. The building is very unstable, so be careful.”

The Mandalorian takes a few cautious steps towards the pyramid, scanning it up and down.

“There doesn’t seem to be an entrance at this level. It’ll involve some climbing to get up to the hangar,” he says.

“I know a way in.”

Luke spots the place that he’s looking for and walks confidently towards the side of the building. He waves the Mandalorian over to his position. The overbrush is thick near the side of the building, concealing a well-hidden door from the average glance. Luke pulls the bushes and other plants to the side and approaches the metal door, inspecting the keypad on the wall next to it. He types in some numbers then waves the door open using the Force.

They step into a small, cramped chamber that has been packed with dirt, overgrown plants, fallen ceiling tiles, and low hanging wires. Being careful not to bump into anything, Luke leads them to another door that opens up into a larger control room. The control panels are covered in dust with many of the buttons missing and the monitors smashed. Luke hears a faint scurrying come from one of the corners of the room.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” says the Mandalorian.

“You sound like Han,” Luke remarks.

“Who?”

“Never mind.”

Luke strides over to one of the control panels and presses a few buttons. The lift in the back of the room lights up and starts its dull beeping.

“There is only one backup generator. I don’t know how much power it has so we need to be quick.”

The lift opens and Luke and Mando step inside. The lift opens again to a massive open room. The massive hangar opens to a beautiful view of the tops of the trees of Yavin-4. The planet looms overhead, the promise of darkness approaching soon. The hangar that was once filled with Rebellion ships from all across the galaxy, now stands quiet and vacant in the heat of the late afternoon. The metal floor is covered in debris, some empty crates strewn across it. There are vines growing on the walls and a few even on the ceilings soaring above.

The Mandalorian seems to take it all in carefully, once again adjusting the settings on his helmet. He walks slowly towards the gaping opening of the hangar, almost in awe.

“It’s beautiful isn’t it.” Luke says, coming up to stand next to him.

Mando turns to look at Luke then back to the view in front of them.

“It is.”

#dinluke #the mandalorian #Luke Skywalker #grogu #baby yoda #fanfic #star wars #skydalorian

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micasaessakusa · 4 years

Text

My world

Pairing: Kita Shinsuke x Reader Genre: Angst Word Count: 2.472 words Warnings: Unplanned pregnancy

Crippling despair.

That is the only way to describe it, you guess; the only way to describe the feeling of having to watch the love of your life throw everything away for you.

But even that is still too soft a word to convey the emotions brewing inside you, twisting your heart with a barbed vice grip and stewing within your mind whispers of contempt you know you do not deserve but are nonetheless true.

Shinsuke was your world -- is you world and forever will be, and you know that in the same way, you are his. Maybe even more. But what a cruel world you are to him if just to be in your arms, he has to pay the price of… well, everything else.

It boils down to you or everything, no in between.

A mere touch of his never fails to warm you, but his hands that rest on the now apparent swell of your stomach singes you.

Looking at him, you tear up upon seeing Kita, your Shinsuke, his hair matted to his forehead because of sweat and his eyes tired but still bright despite what was sure to have been a gruelling day. Glancing down, you spot his soft, gentle hands littered with dark marks from fixing cars at the local mechanic.

You know it’s not easy for him, not even a little bit, but every time he comes home to you, he never fails to show you nothing but pure love and adoration on his face. And you’re touched, but also so utterly confused at how he could look at you as if you hadn’t just ruined his life.

He gives you a soft smile before his slightly chapped lips plant a full kiss on yours. No matter the circumstances, his kisses never fail to serve as a reminder that there will always be one person in the world who will never leave your side, no questions asked. But this affects you differently for rather than serving as a form of comfort, it instead brews some darker thoughts in your mind, tracing back to the strained conversation you had with his family before everything fell to ruin.

Backing a little from you, his lips pull to another tender upward tilt before he excuses himself to wash up, making sure to peck your stomach one last time.

Your eyes trace his movements towards the bathroom and as soon as the door shuts, you’re once again left alone to stew in your own mind-numbing thoughts.

——

“Are you sure it’s yours, Shinsuke?”

Kita’s usually warm coffee brown eyes narrow imperceptibly, cold emanating from him at the blatant insinuation thrown at you.

“Yes, mother,” he answers evenly despite the tightening of his hold on your hand. Meanwhile, you keep your stare trained on the floor, not having the courage to look at the scrutinizing gaze of Shinsuke’s parents.

He warned you about their predisposition and prejudice, but you hadn’t anticipated just how much distaste they would actually be hiding behind a curtain of impeccable manners.

Sensing your discomfort, your boyfriend of only a year wraps an arm around you, rubbing soothing patterns on your back.

For the first time that night, his father speaks, but he doesn’t even look at you when he does.

“Get rid of it,” he says with total indifference while still commanding finality. “This kind of inconvenience will only serve to bring dishonor to our name.”

He spits venom at the ‘inconvenience’ that is your child and it takes all of your willpower to not break down right there and then. His family speaks of everything as if it’s nothing. As if you are nothing. As if your relationship with their son is nothing. As if the child inside you, despite not being planned, was not made from the love you shared with Shinsuke.

But you guess maybe it is like that. Maybe to them, you really are nothing.

After all, what’s a nobody like you even doing with the sole heir of the Kita family, renowned business tycoons in the continent, whom anyone who’s a somebody covet to form even just an acquaintance with?

Who are you to sully the name of a bloodline that has been thriving since long before your great grandparents were even born?

Nobody. That’s what you are.

You are so lost in your all-consuming thoughts that you fail to notice at first how Shinsuke is already in front of you, standing tall and facing his parents. It’s only then that you become aware of the tears streaming down your face, dropping to your hands that are pulled into tight fists.

“Mother and Father, [Y/N] and I have not been together for long, but we have known each other for years now,” he starts, voice remaining calm and collected despite how tense his whole body is. “This will not please you, but I have already made my decision the moment she informed me she’s pregnant with my child.”

His words echo repeatedly in your mind and your heart beats so rapidly from the overwhelming adoration flowing through your body… ‘my child.’ Your Shinsuke said ‘my child,’ and you could not have been happier just by hearing those words.

Chancing a look at his parents, you see them still stoic, face completely devoid of emotion nor even a sliver of shock. Perhaps, they’ve accepted his decision? But even you know that that would be wishful thinking. What you do know now, however, is that you would not be alone in this journey.

Shinsuke’s words flood you with relief from the anxiety of having to go through the pregnancy alone. Even though you never doubted him, hearing him actually say he’ll be by your side sends you an unparalleled level of comfort and reassurance.

Not waiting for his family to speak, he takes your hand and helps you to stand, aware of how shaky you currently are. He bows low to his parents to signal the end of the conversation, his torso almost parallel to the ground, and when he rises back up he gives you what might have been the most tender look you’ve seen on his face the entire time you’ve known each other.

In a low voice, he speaks, “We shall be going now,” then guides you to the exit.

Just as you’re about to pass the threshold, his father says a single sentence that would forever make you question just how much you’ve taken from the man you claim to love.

“Once you leave this house, you will be stripped of everything that has to do with the family and name you so easily turn your back on.”

Instantly, you freeze on your tracks, but Shinsuke just steers you forward with a gentle hand on your back, the words of his father not making his steps falter for even a bit.

Under his breath, he whispers his own answer, steady and with full conviction.

“Then so be it.”

——

It’s been a couple of months since then but not a day has gone by with you not thinking about it.

Kita Shinsuke is a humble man, down-to-earth and genuine. He’s never one to indulge in materialistic things but anyone with eyes can see that he’s struggling to live a less privileged life. After all, he grew up so used to having both needs and wants always there, always available most especially because of his name. He’s a hard worker, yes, but up until a few months ago, he’s never had to actually work to live.

He tries his best, you know he does just like he always has, maybe even more so now that he has other people to take care of. He never complains… and that makes it all the worse for you.

Each day that passes, you become increasingly aware of the darkening circles under his eyes, his thinning frame, and everything about him now just glaringly shouts how this is not the life fit for a man like him.

You claim to love him, but by him reciprocating what does he get? Misery.

The sound of the bathroom door opening snaps you from your stupor and in the next second, your boyfriend steps out, freshly showered and with a towel hanging from his neck. He has a small smile on his lips but it falls as soon as he sees you.

A frown appears on his face as he rushes towards you, worry etched onto his features.

“Is something wrong, love?” he says when he takes both your hands into his larger ones. He gazes at you, warm brown orbs focused solely on your face as he searches you for any pain.

“Does it hurt somewhere?”

It’s only when he brings a hand up to wipe the tears off your face do you realize you’re crying. Sniffling, you quickly wipe away all traces of your breakdown, glancing instead on the floor out of embarrassment.

“It’s nothing, Shin,” you say so quietly that he almost misses it.

He chooses not to probe, guiding you instead to sit on the worn out couch. Your tears gradually come to a slow stop with the aid of the soothing circles he rubs on your back, and once again, your heart clenches at how just naturally nurturing he is.

A few moments pass with him trying to calm you down and when you get your breathing back to normal, he speaks.

“Something has been bothering you for a while now, don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

Your eyes snap wide as you look at him, guilt clear on your face. Have you unintentionally been worrying him by being transparent? Or is he so in tune with your emotions that he’s able to read you so easily?

Kita’s a perceptive person and it doesn’t really surprise you that he has caught on to your distress, but how you wish that this one time, he doesn’t, for it would only pile on top of his already long list of worries.

He caresses your hands and the warmth emanating from his palms brings you a sense of ease.

“Please talk to me, love. Whatever it is, we can work on it togeth--”

“Let’s break up.”

Shock paints his face the instant you blurt the words out and that’s all it takes for hurt and confusion to fill his usually unreadable eyes.

You stare at him, surprise also clear on your face from what you said, but you don’t take it back. You love him and you’ll give him this one chance to back out. You’ll set him free if that’s what it costs to allow him to live a life of comfort once more.

He deserves all the comfort this harsh world can give him, and if he can’t have that when he’s with you then you’ll choose to let him go… even if that would break you.

Silence fills the small space of your apartment, neither of you having the courage to break the silence first.

His hold on your hand tightens, but you still don’t speak in fear of taking your words back. But if only he knew just how much you want to.

You’re scared, so scared that he would agree to break up. And you know you would fall apart without him, but you have to do this. Kita’s been selfless all this time, now’s your turn to prove to him how far you’d go if it’s for him. You’d give him his freedom if that would mean he gets to live a happier and more comfortable life.

What you didn’t expect, however, is for tears to fill his eyes and roll down his pale cheeks in thick rivulets as he looks at you in utter brokenness.

He opens his mouth to say something but closes it again. Biting his lip, he whispers words that slash through your heart.

“Is it something wrong with me?”

In an instant, you scramble to pull him in a tight embrace, your sobs breaking free along with your pleas for forgiveness.

“I’m so sorry, Shin,” you cry as you hug him even tighter, his own arms also wrapping around you in his shaky effort to hold you snug against his body.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! Fuck-- I didn’t mean it, I don’t want to break up! I didn’t mean it, I’m so sorry, Shin, I’m so sorry, I don’t want to break up, not now, not ever, I’m so sorry--,” strings of apology spill profusely from your mouth and the moment Kita plants his lips against yours, you kiss him back with fervor, trying to convey just how much you don’t want to be away from him.

With one last peck, he closes his eyes as he rests his forehead against yours, his breath still coming a bit short from his remaining tears.

“Please don’t scare me like that again. I love you, my [Y/N]. I don’t plan on leaving you and our child ever,” he says with tearful sincerity, it compels you to kiss him again followed by a firm declaration of how much you feel the same way.

Hugging him close to you, you resolve to tell him everything. You let it all out; how you thought- still think he chose to be miserable when he chose you, how you just know that you ruined his life, how you feel like you’re being selfish for taking him away from his family, from his gran, how you thought you’d give him his freedom so he could live a better life, how scared you were that he would agree when you told him you’d break up.

With each word passing through your lips, his embrace gets a little tighter as he whispers assurances to your ears, rubbing soothing circles on your back all the while.

“You didn’t ruin my life, you made it better.”

“You’re my family now.”

“I am free when I am with you. I chose you and I’ll do it over and over again.”

Amidst the tearful confessions you both lay on each other, you grip his shirt tight in a fist as you finally tell him the thing you’ve felt most frightened about when he chose you.

“I feel like I’ve taken you away from your world, Shinsuke. I feel like I hurt you.”

He stops his ministrations when he moves to hold both your shoulders in a gentle but firm grip, looking you straight in the eyes as he speaks to life the words that will forever remain in your heart and soul.

“You didn’t take me away from my world, because you are my world, always have been and always will be.”

And at that very moment, you just know deep within your heart that Kita Shinsuke has been, still is, and will always be your world.

#Gabe writes!!#Haikyuu #Kita #Kita Shinsuke #Haikyuu x Reader #Kita x Reader #Kita Shinsuke x Reader #Haikyuu Angst #Kita Angst #Kita Shinsuke Angst

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aphrodites-law · 4 years

Text

A Bit of Clarity 🍂 (9/?) The visions had started last autumn, a year ago now. It had caused a bit of chaos for some, a bit of clarity for others. Two days ago, Clarke Griffin had been perfectly fine managing both her Café and her stress. But now she was curious - so deeply curious about the vision of herself entwined with the aloof Lexa Woods that it was leading her to complete distraction. (ao3)

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8]

When she opened the café the following week, Clarke didn't expect the first customer to be Gustus. He walked toward her with a slight hunch in his shoulders, holding a large paper bag in front of him.

"Hello, Clarke."

"Hi, Gustus. How are you?"

"Lexa said you were looking for help in the kitchen. Am I too late?"

Clarke blinked in surprise. "Not at all."

Gustus set the bag on the counter. "I don't have much of an education and I don't know proper baking terms. I haven’t worked for anyone in twenty-five years, but I have made and sold baked goods on my family's apiary since my childhood."

He pulled out several containers. "I've brought honey muffins, blueberry tartlets, and a chocolate-walnut pie. Please, have a taste when you can."

"You're… applying to work here?"

Gustus nodded. "I'd like to help in the kitchen."

It was certainly unorthodox, but they had yet to find anyone and Clarke's mouth had already watered at the smell of the pie.

"Gustus, are you sure this is what you want? The hours can be long and we can't afford to negotiate on salary for now."

"Money doesn't matter to me. I have my own land and grow my own food."

"What about your apiary?"

"A hobby more than a business these days. The market made me realize how much I miss…" His eyebrows furrowed as he thought of the word.

"People?" Clarke guessed.

He stroked his beard. "But not so much that I would leave the kitchen."

Clarke chuckled. "I see why Lexa likes you."

"She may pretend otherwise, but Lexa enjoys company too. She would not write the way she does if it weren’t the case."

"No, I don't suppose she would."

They both looked toward the entrance when a customer walked in. Gustus moved to the side.

"I won't keep you longer. Thank you for humoring an old beekeeper."

"Wells will have the final word, but he's badgered me to get more of your honey so the odds are definitely in your favor."

Gustus inclined his head gratefully, a heartwarming sight given he was a foot taller than Clarke and quite intimidating at first glance.

"Have a good day, Clarke."

"You too. And thanks for the treats!"

* * *

Clarke walked over to Lexa's table later that afternoon, finding her deep in research on her laptop with her half-eaten croissant on her plate. They hadn't been able to speak much between orders, but Lexa had looked her way at times and Clarke had managed to catch her eyes. Each time made her stomach swoop, but Clarke was determined to be the one to surprise her for once.

She put her hand on her shoulder and kissed her cheek.

"Hi, you."

Lexa turned her head with a slight blush. "Hello."

Clarke sat in front of her, propping her chin on her hand. "Oh I get a hello today. Very formal."

"Is hello formal now?"

"With that tone and those glasses? Yes."

Lexa took off her reading glasses. "Am I being kicked out?"

"Not at all. Stay as long as you want. You can even stay after closing hours."

Lexa's eyes fell to her lips- Clarke's knowing grin. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Mm probably not."

Lexa closed her laptop. "So. Saturday. Doors open at 7pm."

Clarke sat up. "I'm excited. Though Wells has already warned me he'll poison my coffee if I drop any spoilers."

Lexa had offered tickets to Lincoln's play again, though this time she had made it very clear she intended it as a date. Clarke was thrilled to go to the theater after so long, especially since the play was fully booked for a solid six months. Nowhere Ground was a critical darling and word of mouth had worked like a charm.

"I was thinking we could hit Cocoa Street after," Lexa suggested. "Try some of the food trucks?"

"A woman after my heart."

Lexa smiled, her hand inching toward Clarke's on the table. "I figured I'd keep the upscale restaurant for our third date."

"Oh there'll be a third date?"

Lexa looked up from their hands, fingers not quite yet touching. "I would hope so."

"Well I don't know, I'll have to see if you have game."

"I thought you'd gotten a preview already." Lexa's fingers brushed against hers.

Clarke bit her lip. "Not that kind of game."

"What kind, Clarke?" Lexa asked smoothly as her thumb brushed over the back of Clarke's hand.

Clarke shook her head and sat back, letting go of Lexa's hand. "Nu-uh. I'm not falling for that again."

"What's that?"

"That- look. And your voice. You know what."

Lexa let out a small laugh. "I really don't."

"It's like a switch you have. It drives me crazy. But I'm not falling for it. I see you."

"Alright, I'll just be broody and quiet then." Lexa cleared her throat, amused. "Did Gus stop by today?"

Clarke brightened. "Yes. Speaking of, very sneaky of you. Wells is already raving about the chocolate-walnut pie."

"I'm glad. Gus kept asking me if he should make more. I'd never heard him so nervous."

"I didn't even know he baked."

"Never in a professional setting like this, but I can vouch for his impeccable manners. And his food."

"How did you meet him anyway?"

Lexa picked up the last bite of her croissant. "When I was doing research on the Mountain Men, I found out his property is the closest to the bunker site. A few miles down the mountain but still - I figured he had some information that could help me. I introduced myself; said I wanted to honor their story…"

"And you charmed your way into his life," Clarke guessed in a fond tone. She still had a few minutes before Gaia started side-eying her for flirting on the clock (not that it was a regular instance, but Lexa did come in often these days…) and then got Harper to ask endless questions to fuel their gossip mill. "I'm glad you did. I think he'd fit right in."

Lexa nodded, giving her a soft smile while they lingered in their last few seconds of privacy.

* * *

When Saturday night finally came, Clarke thought she might burst from the anticipation. Lexa lived close to the theater, so Clarke had suggested she be the one to pick her up before they walked over. She'd settled on her fancier boots, tights and a red dress, ever aware of the increasingly cold nights. She had her coat on but left it open when she finally arrived, fully leaning on the power of her own cleavage tonight. Slow didn't mean she couldn't have her fun.

"Wow. Um. Hi," Lexa breathed out as soon as she opened the door, eyes darting south of Clarke's lips.

"Now I get a hi," Clarke replied with a grin. She extended the flowers she'd brought on the way. "For you."

"Oh they're beautiful," Lexa said, genuinely surprised. Clarke wondered if she’d ever gotten flowers based on that expression alone. "Thank you," Lexa murmured.

"You're welcome," Clarke hummed. She waited for Lexa to come closer to reach for the sleeve of her shirt. "This is new."

"You don't like it?" Lexa asked.

Clarke almost scoffed. She was fairly certain Lexa knew exactly what she was doing, with her tight slacks and her dark green shirt just a hint sheer enough to see the outline of her bra. Paired with her loose curls and faint perfume, Lexa was already making her dizzy and it was incredibly unfair.

"I didn't say that," Clarke replied, pretending not to notice Lexa was going to kiss her. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"

Lexa frowned briefly, only to smile a second later as she realized what game Clarke was playing. She'd asked for slow and it seemed like Clarke was taking it to heart. Perhaps a bit too much.

"Please, come in."

While Lexa went to find a vase, Clarke looked around. The apartment was on the small side, but during the day it was most likely brightly lit thanks to the two large windows. The balcony was filled with plants and flowers just as Gaia had once told her, but she hadn't mentioned the various hanging pots throughout the living room. Of course she couldn't have known. Clarke wasn’t sure if she was the first date Lexa had invited here since moving, but the progress in their relationship wasn’t lost on her. She’d never imagined being inside Lexa Woods’ apartment; not even when they’d started their little dance. It had seemed like another world.

Lexa came back with a vase that she set on the table by the window. "They're lovely," she reiterated.

"If I'd known you were so into plants I would've gotten a succulent or something."

Lexa looked around. "Oh those - the hooks were already there when I got here. Indra said the woman before me used to hang candle lanterns. I think she's relieved this place isn't a fire hazard anymore."

"Gaia said you're her favorite tenant."

Lexa smiled sheepishly, but didn't further comment. She glanced at Clarke's neckline before clearing her throat.

"Are you ready?"

Clarke nodded. "Very."

Lexa stepped closer. "You know… I sort of imagined this going differently."

"Oh?" Clarke asked, rooted in place.

"I figured after we'd kissed things would become easier," Lexa explained as she stopped inches from Clarke.

"You imagined us kissing?"

"Yes," Lexa answered honestly. "But I told you that before."

Clarke remembered the confession Lexa had made that night at the café and felt desire pool in the pit of her stomach again. How she’d thought about her; how she’d wanted this- them. She reached for Lexa's shirt, pretending to toy with one of the small buttons.

"It seems like we imagined a lot of things you and I," Clarke replied, swallowing.

Lexa brushed her nose against hers, testing her. Clarke felt her warm breath on her mouth and nearly tasted sweet mint. Her heart beat loudly in her ears until finally she gave in, tilting her head and pulling Lexa in.

The kiss was slow at first; Lexa's full lips pressing firmly against hers. Then Clarke felt her hand cup her neck and Lexa angle for something else, something deeper. She moaned when their tongues brushed and Lexa played with hers, chasing, teasing, while the lingering smell of the flowers mixed with her perfume and saturated Clarke's senses. It felt like she was drunk.

It wasn't the small hello or goodbye kisses they'd exchanged in the week; the hesitant pecks that had preceded the date that had seemed so far away on Monday.

"Are you sure this play is good?" She asked, slightly dazed.

Lexa shook her head, kissing her once more. "It's horrible. Mediocre. Let's bail and stay in."

Clarke let out a small laugh before kissing her again, deeper and slower, wondering if her heart would ever calm down tonight.

"If only."

[part ten]

#clexa #f: a bit of clarity #clarke x lexa #short chappie to get back into it #w

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zephyrofalltrades · 4 years

Text

Day 4: Vampire

CW: Death, blood, gore, prostitution (Youtube recommended Jack-the-Ripper documentaries, so here we are)

Crowley stamped her foot on the cobbles, the cold running up her soles. She frowned. The crowds were thinning this time of year. The weather was running them all indoors. She herself wished for a fire to sit by, lamenting at having not even a bonnet to keep her red head warm. She curled further into herself, indulging one last shiver before taking her post at her corner. Perhaps a soldier would walk by and offer her a few pennies for her services. It would barely give her a proper meal, not that she’ll eat. She needs the doss money for the coming winter nights.

“Pardon me,” she heard a soft voice behind her, interrupting her thoughts. She whipped around in shock. She hadn’t heard his steps nearing. “You seem lost, my dear.”

“No, guv’ner,” she replied, taking in the vision of the man before her. He was dressed impeccably in creams and tans, pairing well with his white-blonde head. The worn, fitted suit meant merchant. A possible customer. She grinned. “I know perfectly well where I am, but you can take me somewhere else if you’d like.”

The blonde smiled. “Not tonight, dear girl. I have somewhere to be, but here,” he pressed a few coins into her hand. “The nights are merciless, I’d rather you get yourself home and out of danger.” She watched his eyes darken, feeling them roam from her face to settle at the joint just beneath her jaw. She felt warmed by it, predatory as it may seem. She supposed she wouldn’t mind this gentleman have her properly if he would.

“I can tolerate the cold if you’re willing to take a gander,” she stepped in closer, letting her hands rest on the man’s firm chest, barely feeling the heat beneath the layers. “Seems you’re in need of a nice fire, yerself.” She leaned closer to him, watching in satisfaction as how his lips parted in anticipation…

A shrill shriek sounded from somewhere to their left, making them jump. The blonde swiftly ran to the source of the commotion, she trailing behind him. They stopped at the mouth of a darkened alleyway. She heard labored pants from within the shadows and despite the fear coursing through her, stopped her advance. It wasn’t unusual to hear those sounds, she’d had her fair time as a three-penny-upright when needs required. The man however shuffled forward.

She reached to stall him but stilled, when from the alleyway came a low growl.

“Best stay behind me,” the blonde whispered and brandished the umbrella he had with him. She didn’t think twice and followed his instructions. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, Crowley gasped at what she found revealed to her.

One of girls she shared the lodging houses with was sprawled on the ground, blood pooling beneath her, clothing ripped to shreds. Her arms were covered in deep scratches and a bloody gash where her throat had once been. She averted her eyes but had to stifle her own scream when she beheld the creature beside it.

It’s nails were turned into sharpened claws, blood still dripping from their tips. It mouth, lathered with the same black-red liquid, was held in a menacing sneer - it’s fangs in shown in sharp relief. And it’s eyes. It’s eyes were red, glowing as bright as Hell’s own flames.

It pounced on them, but the blonde stood firm, whacking it soundly in the head and making it whimper from the contact. He turned, one arm reaching behind him and maneuvering her with him. The creature shook itself to rights and tried once more. With a little more force as it leaped. The blonde grabbed her arm and dragged her down to duck.

The thing sailed over them and its proximity had her knees trembling. The blonde leapt to his feet and into a fighting stance, situating himself once more between her and the monster. It snarled as it ran back for another attack.

“Stand up quick, and brace your weight against my back,” the gentleman ushered. She felt fatigued but did as told. The blonde swung the umbrella once, twice - parrying with the monster’s clawed hands. He leaned back and sent a booted foot in contact with its midriff. It staggered back. He took the opportunity and flung himself forward, umbrella tip aimed at the creature’s heart.

The point found its mark and the blonde pushed it further in, the creature screeching in pain. Crowley slammed herself against the man’s back to help drive their weapon through its chest. The momentum brought the monster slamming against the alley’s wall and they held it in position. The umbrella was long enough to keep them out of reach from its flailing arms. The cries died out soon enough and the thing’s body gave one final shudder before going still.

Clattering steps sounded nearby, all the noise must have reached the officers in their rounds. Crowley felt herself swathed in warmth and pulled into the embrace of strong, capable arms. She knew very little of the interactions thereafter. She felt numb, yet her consciousness dragged her out enough to hear the words vampire, dead and safe.

When next she surfaced from the muddled dregs of her thoughts, she found herself sitting on a comfortable sofa in what looked to be a bookshop. She craned her neck at the impossible stacks of prints. She heard a hum from behind a shelf and the blonde appeared holding a tray of tea and biscuits.

He smiled at her and she couldn’t help but smile back in relief. She may have wished for the horrific encounter to be a dream, but she had hoped the blonde man had not been. “Feeling better?” he asked, taking a seat in an armchair in front of her.

“Yes,” she croaked, and gratefully took the warm drink offered. Feeling suddenly shy, she let her eyes fall to her lap, and to the man’s coat still draped about her. She cried, “Your coat!” The fabrics had specs of red, blood, of course. An inevitable consequence, she knew, but still lamented over.

“It’s alright. I have kept it in tip-top shape this past fifteen years, but I consider it an honorable send off for its services,” he said lightly, amused at her concern.

“Let me clean it. I’m a capable maid. I can salvage it, I swear. Or whatever you wished me to take care of, I’d do.” she clung to the fabric with both hands. “A thank you seems to low for all that’s gone on tonight.”

“If you put it that way,” he smiled at her once more. “Perhaps you can refer someone? I would be needing to hire help soon, the shop’s getting a bit dusty.”

Her heart skipped a beat. She gaped at him and the implications of his words. The man’s - nay, angel’s - eyes twinkled at her expression, knowing full well what he was offering.

“I know a person,” she croaked out, tears streaming from her eyes. “She can start this very minute if you’d be amenable.”

#racket's 13 days of halloween #I may or may not have imagined Aziraphale as a Van Helsing #I didn't kill them off this time #and gave them tea and biscuits #vampire #good omens #aziraphale #crowley #good omens fic #good omens fanfiction

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guqin-and-flute · 4 years

Note

I've been considering music for characters. Devil's Backbone for Xichen and also Wangji. I go back and forth on whom it fits better. Monsters by Katie Sky and A Million Dreams (Pink) for Yanli. Glitter and Gold, Promiseland by Mika, and Fancy by Reba make me think of JGY. The covers of Can't Help Falling In Love With You DARK and LIGHT are the Wangxian relationship as it develops. Dear Theodosia (remix) is Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling. End This for Murder Kitten during his adulthood with JGY.

Devil’s Backbone -- Love that for both of them, so good. I can so so see it for both, though I do feel more LWJ vibes for how much longer the agonizing waffling is for him and we get to see it through to it’s ending, whereas for Lan Xichen, he’s sort of caught in this frozen middle where he’s still processing and suffering by the time we leave him :( Also the line ‘I just want to take him home.’

Monsters -- I’ve never heard this one and it is SO HER

A Million Dreams -- I love this song already anyway and hell yeah P!nk. Oh. So hopeful ;-; I will write as many AU’s as I need for her to actually have the world she deserves.

Glitter and Gold -- AHH! AHHHHHH I’VE ALWAYS FUCKING LOVED THIS SONG AND NOW! WITH JGY! AHHHHHH! The tone, the driving beat. YES. ‘Do you walk in the shadow of men who sold their lives to a dream.’ Oof.

Promiseland -- Oh, you KNOW I love some Mika. ‘Strike me down to the ground/You know I’ve seen it before/Make it hurt I’ll eat the dirt/I just don’t care anymore’ [screams a lot] (actually most of the lyrics are just--I can’t believe I haven’t thought of this before, you’re a genius)

Fancy -- I’ve never heard this one either, but it really reminds me of a dancer AU 👀

Can’t Help Falling In Love With You (DARK) (LIGHT) -- Look, I’m not much for love songs, but I am Weak for this one every. Single. Time. And I love dark covers of songs. And it fits them so fucking well. ‘Shall I stay, would it be a sin’ ‘Take my hand, take my whole life too’ [rolls around]

Dear Theodosia (Remix) -- Well, now you just want me dead, huh? ‘You had your mother’s name’ could be construed as the name your mother wanted you to have so I’m-- ‘My father wasn’t around’ ;A; The tenderness, the pride. And the fact that he wouldn’t be able to say this out loud! AHHHH! (also fuck yeah Regina Spektor)

End This -- Uhhh had never heard this, but a song for NHS that opens with ‘L is for the way you lied to me/O is I’m the only one who sees that/V, you’re so vindictive so I’ll be vicious’ is. Uh. Incredibly accurate. Fuck. Ooooh wow. Love this. Incredible.

Let’s seeeee, do I have any songs for characters? I’ll put them under the cut since this is getting long.

It’s Alright by Mother Mother -- There are OH so many people this applies to, but I mostly associate it with Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian. ‘It’s alright, it’s okay, it’s alright, it’s okay/You’re not a monster, just a human/And you’ve made a few mistakes’

Hallelujah by Oh Wonder -- I saw this on a Jin Guangyao playlist on Spotify and I just [chef’s kiss]

Lost by Jeremy Ravine -- (No lyric vid for this one, sorry) This reminds me of my Peony to Lotus JGY. ‘All I am is lost/Who I though I was I’m not’

All Star (Orchestral Version) -- Because of the impeccable fanvid I have linked, I will forever associate this arrangement of this song with Lan Jingyi

The Book of Love by 2Cellos -- (the lyrics are in Spanish, I believe) Is forever my early days Xiyao song ;-; ‘The book of love has music in it/In fact that’s where music comes from/Some of it’s just transcendental/Some of it’s just really dumb’ -- ‘The book of love is long and boring/And written very long ago/It’s full of flowers and heart shaped boxes/And things we’re all too young to know’

#Sorry this took 10 million years apparently I needed to add links #ask #my stuff #jgy #wwx #jc #jyl #ljy #nhs #xiyao #wangxian #jl #i have like 5 more JGY songs but....I figured this was....enough #If anyone wants the full thing I suppose I could do a thing #Anonymous #songs

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jabbajambler · 3 years

Text

Human

The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x f!OC

Word Count: 2,422

*GIF by @ansonmount*

I sat up, finding myself alone in the plush bed. This situation felt oddly familiar, but somehow weirder. I didn't peg Din as someone who would voluntarily get up and socialize with people he didn't know too well, but I guess I was wrong.

I got up and stretched before I left the room, finding everyone gathered at the large dining table. Din sat next to the child, feeding him small pieces of cooked meat. I laughed quietly at the domestic scene, alerting everyone of my presence.

Ana rushed over and smoothed out my hair with a bright smile. "Sorry, Myrah. Mando said he didn't want to wake you and neither did I." She giggled and led me over to the table where a tall, brunette man sat with a little girl at his side. I assumed that was Shira.

She had her mother's brown eyes and her father's hair. She was absolutely adorable. The energy she radiated was impeccable as well. It was clear that like her mother, she had a great tie to the Force.

Ana placed a small plate of fruit and eggs in front of me, hurrying to the seat next to mine. "How did you sleep?" She asked with a beaming grin.

"It was amazing. I haven't slept that good since-" I stopped and glanced up at Din, a slight blush coating my cheeks. "Well, for a while."

"I'm glad to hear it! So, do you know what you're going to do today?"

I shrugged and began shoveling the food into my mouth. The food was also some of the best I've had in a long time. Some of the travel food that Din packed had expired long ago and became nearly unbearable to eat.

"Not much. We still have to take care of the baby after all."

Ana gasped and looked over at the child who cooed with a mouth full of food, causing Shira to burst into a fit of giggles.

"Nonsense! You guys need to go enjoy yourselves. There is so much to do in here, you shouldn't waste this time." She paused, her eyes lighting up. "Didn't you agree to give him a tour of the city?"

"Ana, no. There's way too much to do and we just got here."

"Come on! You love this city so much. We'll even watch the baby!" She looked over at her husband for approval. He gave a big smile and nodded as well. I see how they found each other.

"I don't know... We don't really like to go out much. Besides, with Mando being- well- a Mandalorian, we may catch some unwanted attention."

"I think it's a great idea."

We all turned towards the muffled voice that spoke up, hiding behind the shiny beskar helmet.

"What? You love the city and I don't mind going with you."

"Then it's settled!" Ana stood and clasped her hands together. "I can even help you with a change of clothes!" She squealed and ran out of the room, stopping to press a quick peck to her husband's cheek.

I looked up at Din while he cocked his head to the side. He had something planned and I wasn't sure I liked where this was going.

┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉

I stood in front of the long mirror in a pair of tight gray pants and a wine-colored tunic that was cinched at the waist with a tight, black belt. The neckline dipped in a slight v-shape but nothing too scandalous and the sleeves fell from my shoulders. Apparently that was how it was supposed to be.

I'm not sure if it was intentional, but it reminded me of what we would wear as children when we trained.

Ana worked on braiding two strands on the sides of my head, setting them free to intertwine and dangle with my natural waves.

"Aw, Myrah. You look beautiful." She smiled and fluffed my hair.

"You did this on purpose."

"Maybe. I couldn't help myself!" She sighed and threw her hands up in defeat. "You know, it's one of my mom's old outfits. You're probably always covered head to toe in black, I had to switch it up just a little."

I knew she had good intentions, she always does. Maybe it wasn't too big of a deal. It was just an outfit. It was nice to pretend like everything was normal. Like nothing had ever changed.

"Oh! Would you look at the time?" She glanced out the window at the barely setting sun. "Time for you to get going!"

She pulled me with her as we ran out the door, finding Din standing in the corridor, his relaxed form leaning against the wall.

"Alright, you two. Have fun! Don't worry about a thing, we have everything under control here." She delivered a quick kiss to my cheek before taking off. I never knew how she had so much energy all the time. Neither one of her parents ever acted the way she did.

"Ready to go?" I smiled shyly at Din, offering my hand to him as I shifted closer to the door.

His gaze followed me ever since I stepped in front of him. I almost felt a little insecure. He nodded and instead of taking my hand, hooked his arm beneath mine and led me out the door.

We didn't say much as we walked, except for when I pointed out a few of the spots where Ana and I got into trouble as teens. We didn't live together in Coruscant very long, but we knew how to make some serious messes.

"You really love this place." He mumbled. He almost sounded sad.

"I do." I spoke with a laugh. "We only lived here for a few weeks and while it was nearly hell, we had each other."

"You fit in well."

"Do I? I always thought I stuck out around here. It's not what it used to be. The stories Ana's parents told us painted it as something magical."

"Who were they by the way?" He questioned with a gentle tilt of his head.

I snickered. "Oh, I can't say their names out here. But they were more powerful than you could possibly imagine."

The sun set quickly as we walked around a bit longer, leaving us with the sparkling night sky of Coruscant. I couldn't tell what was a speeder and what was a star at this point.

"I bet we could sneak back into the apartment. We can always see more tomorrow when Ana won't try to play dress up with me."

"I think you look..." He paused. "Nice."

I let out a laugh at his nervous compliment. He never seemed to struggle with those before. Coruscant was bringing out a new side of Din that I never expected to see.

It certainly wasn't the longest night out, but that didn't matter. The walk back was comfortable and as the cool breeze picked up, Din had pulled me even closer to his body. We were lucky to sneak back inside without Ana noticing and quickly made our way to the guest room.

If she had found out that we had returned so quickly, I was sure she would have thrown a fit. Or she would have just been really sad. Either one.

I flopped backwards on the bed in the dark room, choosing to keep the lights off to avoid alerting Ana of our presence. Din chuckled and watched, having the lucky night vision feature of his helmet to actually see anything around us.

"I forgot how much I missed Ana. I know she can be a pain in the ass, but she's all I have left of a family." I whispered with a sigh and slipped off my shoes.

I felt the bed dip next to me as Din sat down. "All you have left?"

I nodded and sat up, finding the shadow of his helmet in the dark. "My parents left me when I was a little older than Shira. Her family found me, took me in, trained me and loved me like I was their own. I'll never be able to tell them how much they meant to me."

A silence settled around us as I searched for his hand, grasping it tightly once I found it.

"What about you?"

I knew the question was stupid as soon as it rolled out of my mouth, but it was too late.

"My family?"

I hummed, waiting for him to tell me that it was none of my business and that I was being incredibly intrusive. But that didn't happen.

"They were killed when I was young. I vaguely remember their faces and sometimes I fear that I'm starting to forget." His grip on my hand tightened. "The Mandalorians saved me, they gave me a safe place, a home. I owe them everything."

"Din..." I whispered and raised his hand to my lips, placing a gentle kiss on the leather. "Thank you for telling me."

He fidgeted around for a moment before I felt his body face towards me. "Myrah?" He asked quietly.

"Yes?"

"Do you trust me?"

I felt like that was sort of a silly question. Of course I trusted him. Who else would I tell about my life and pour all of my secrets too? Those aren't the sort of things you tell just anyone.

"With my life."

I could feel him stand from the bed and walk towards the other side of the room, searching for something before coming back to stand over me. It was a few awkward seconds before I felt something pull over my eyes, shielding me from even the subtle shadows in the dark room. It was soft, almost silky. It took me a few moments before I realized that he had blindfolded me.

But for what?

"What's this for?" I giggled quietly, trying to keep my voice low. "I could hardly see anything as is."

"I know..." He paused. There was a familiar hiss and the clink of metal resting on the wooden end tables. My heart suddenly felt like it could beat from my chest. He heard it thumping against my ribs, I was sure. I know that I could. "I just wanted to make sure."

"Sure of-"

"I don't trust often." He interrupted. I heard another piece of metal softly land on the floor, followed by another. His voice was addictive and I hadn't realized how much I missed it.

"Or at all." He continued, his hands grasping mine and pulling me close to the edge of the bed where he stood.

"But you-" He chuckled. "You came in my life swinging- literally." He dropped his gloves to the ground and brought his hand to my face. They were soft, just like I remembered. I took a deep breath, the smell of pine and leather filling my senses just as it had on Sorgan.

"And you're strong and brave and compassionate... You're a true mystery, Princess, and you've got me hooked."

I could hardly breathe. It felt like I was dreaming, I couldn't comprehend what was happening. I had to pinch my leg to convince myself I hadn't just passed out.

"And I trust you more than I ever thought possible." His thumb grazed over my lips as he spoke, igniting a spark in my stomach that warmed my body.

"Din?" I'm surprised I managed to get the word out with my trembling.

"What is it?" He asked quietly. I didn't even know his voice could be so quiet.

"Would you shut up and just kiss me?"

It felt like it hit me like a truck. Not Din, no, he was actually so slow that it was almost teasing. But all of the feelings that I had tried to bury deep inside hit me hard.

And I loved it.

His lips slowly clashed with mine. It was so unbelievably gentle that I couldn't understand how this same man had wiped out tens of bounty hunters, stormtroopers, droids, you name it. His kiss was nothing like that.

His lips were soft, actually, albeit a bit chapped, but he hardly takes off the helmet so I couldn't blame him for that.

After a blissful moment that I wished would last forever, he pulled away. For what, I wasn't sure. All I truly remember is that he started to say my name and then I didn't give him the chance to finish it.

I tangled my fingers in his hair and pulled his face back towards mine in a fervorous kiss that gradually slowed as his body moved over mine. The sensation was like nothing I had ever felt before. It made me delirious and needy.

His hands trailed from my waist to my hair, leaving a fiery wake in their path. When he tugged on the strands, I failed to keep back the gentle gasp that escaped my mouth. An embarrassed blush filled my face, but once I felt his lips tug into a smile against mine, I knew that he didn't mind. In fact, he liked it.

I gripped his shoulders as I tried desperately to pull him closer to me. My teeth dragged against his bottom lip, tugging it back ever so slightly and earning a low groan from him before he captured my lips with his once again. The blissful noise brought goosebumps to my skin.

His mouth began to journey down my jaw, but a gentle knock on the door froze us in place.

Then there was another.

Once I knew Din had hidden himself in the shadows somewhere within the room, I pulled the blindfold down to rest on my collarbone. I swung the door open, desperately hoping that I didn't look as disheveled as I felt.

"Hey, Ana, what's up?" I tried to sound nonchalant and leaned against the doorway.

Her eyes shifted over me, a smirk pulling up the corners of her mouth. "Oh... I was just checking. Didn't know you two came back and we thought we heard something."

"Oh, that was uh- um-"

"You'll try to keep it down?"

Of course she knew.

I nodded and quickly shut the door, letting out a sigh of relief. A pair of hands rested on my shoulders, raising the blindfold back over my eyes dauntingly.

I felt his lips near my ear, leaving a soft kiss before whispering.

"Where were we?"

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x oc #mandalorian #mandalorian x oc #din djarin #din djarin x oc #dyn jarren #jedi #oc #star wars #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #babyyoda

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tsipasce · 3 years

Text

Same Difference Ch.17

A/N: Here is your reward for enduring last week lmao. This one is a bit long, but cutting it up just didn't seem as gratifying so I hope you guys enjoy.

Also, thank you so much for all the kudos, comments and bookmarks on AO3 and FFN-- you guys are too kind :'). I'll try posting more regularly on Tumblr too if ppl wanna read it here. Let me know what y'all think~

There was darkness, then flickers of lights and the occasional overwhelming flow of noises before it ebbed to silence and darkness yet again. First, she felt she was on a hard surface like concrete, then cold metal, then something cushion-like… a bed? Her thoughts were incoherent, presenting more as disjointed words and feelings. Anger, regret, hurt, with a sprinkle of sadness on top. Her body was heavy, every limb feeling as though the blood had been replaced with lead. Her head lolled and she heard someone suddenly shift at her side, the bed dipping under the pressure of said someone leaning on it and over her but was too out of it to open her eyes. Acquiescing, she fell back into unconsciousness.

An indefinite amount of time passed while she was in the darkness before her senses began to return fully. She heard typing, now able to feel a presence nearby. She wanted to open her eyes, but the task seemed too daunting still, simply listening would have to be enough for now.

“I can stand watch for now, if you’d like.” One voice offered, softly.

“What I’d like is to be left alone.” The other replied curtly.

“I see. We’re going to leave in the next few hours, I’ll get everyone ready.”

“You do that.”

Well this guy sounds like a treat… Nanami thought, her sarcasm unsurprisingly returning before the rest of her senses and memories. There were footsteps and then a soft thud, like a door being carefully shut. A couple moments passed before she heard what sounded like a laptop being closed, then footsteps coming towards her, and then silence. She desperately wanted to wake up, but her body refused to cooperate, causing her eyes to flutter behind her eyelids as she struggled in vain to move. She could sense the presence hadn’t left and she felt anxious as to what might happen next before hearing a sigh. She felt a sheet being pulled up to cover her arms, where goosebumps had been forming from the draft in wherever she was.

“I’ll deal with you when I get back.” The voice said with a hint of annoyance, though it was betrayed by its gentle tone. Hearing footsteps growing fainter, a door opened and closed once more. The words themselves were threatening but the way they were spoken, she felt oddly comforted. Falling back into the darkness, she decided to cultivate her energy and try her luck at waking up again later.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Emerging from the darkness again, the pain began immediately. Her head throbbed and she reflexively tried to groan but found her mouth and throat painfully full. Instantly recognizing the feeling, panic set in, the only other thing she could perceive being the desperate need for it to stop. She grabbed the tube, disassembling and reassembling it outside her body. The large obstruction dropped unceremoniously to the floor and she coughed, glad to be rid of it.

“Don’t be so rough with the equipment.”

She rolled her head to the direction of the voice, a bright light hitting her eyes as she struggled to open them for the first time since… Damn. It all came rushing back to her at once, the voice no longer a mystery. Her vision focused and she found herself looking at Overhaul as he sat at her bedside. His mask was on as he stared at her blankly. She stared back for a beat, not knowing how to begin speaking about what brought them to this point. Deciding she should be fully awake and rested for that conversation, she mentally tabled it, opting for their usual banter instead.

“It’s still intact isn’t it?” She cleared her throat, massaging it as she continued, “How long was I out?”

“Three days.”

“THREE DAYS?” Her eyes shot wide, another coughing fit beginning as she raised her voice after not speaking for days.

“Yes, that’s what I said.” He grimaced, moving back a bit at her sudden outburst, “Cough in the other direction.”

“No surprise that your bedside manner could use some work.” She sighed as she adjusted to raise herself up, wincing as her sore muscles tried their best to comply. He promptly rose, putting a pillow behind her as she sat up, his expression blank yet attentive, “Thanks.”

He nodded as he took his seat again and the silence continued, painfully. It felt like their first meeting all over again, neither knowing how to broach the awkward topic. Looking back, Nanami was angry at how insufferably rude he could be but couldn’t ignore her own part in this. A pang of guilt sat heavily in her chest when she remembered how easily she let her emotions get the best of her; she hadn’t told someone off like that in ages. In her mind, it in no way absolved him, but to say it was all his fault would be a lie. In that moment of rage, she… What did I do anyway? She glanced down, now more confused than anything, her brows furrowing before looking at him.

“Let’s chat.”

He readjusted in his chair, leaning back as he crossed his legs and folded his arms across his chest, “Let’s.”

His body language oozed condescension as though she was about to be scolded like a child and she hated it, “Why’d you attack me. Again.”

His eyes narrowed, displeased with how she was beginning their talk,” That was going to be my question to you. I thought we had a deal.”

“What are you talking about? We did—we do—I did not attack you.” she defended. Nanami knew they were both wrong for getting so worked up, but she wouldn’t stoop that low over an argument. “I was wrong, we both were for getting so heated, but I wouldn’t just start throwing hands like that. So again, why did you attack me? I thought… I thought we got passed all that.”

His brow furrowed at the implication, his jaw clenching uncomfortably at the hurt in her voice, “We are. We’re far passed all of that.” He intoned with a level of sincerity that seemed foreign to him. Having spent the past three days chastising himself for putting her in this position, wishing the exchange could be taken back, it was difficult to sound detached. He’d been angry, but harming her had been something he’d put out of his mind some time ago, “I didn’t attack you either…”

They both shared a moment of sincere confusion. Overhaul hadn’t come out unscathed either, having to heal his own head injury as well as a cracked vertebra from the impact once he came to. “Then what the hell happened?” Nanami asked, speaking the question they were both wrestling with. She looked around the room for her bag at the same time Overhaul reached for his laptop.

“We should run tests.” They said in unison. He handed her her notebook from the bag and a pen as they began noting exactly what happened leading up to the explosion. As she recalled the events, there were a number of theories that came to mind, as well as ideas on how to safely perform reenactments of what transpired, but she also remembered the argument beforehand. He was somehow even more quiet than usual, and she could tell his gears were turning that morning, but the hostility seemed so out of the blue. Putting down her pen, he glanced up at her, noticing the sound of her writing had stopped and she was staring down thoughtfully.

“Did you think of something?”

“…Yeah. I did. Why’d you pick a fight with me that day?”

He looked back down at his keyboard and continued typing, “I don’t know what you mean. That little tiff was a joint effort.”

“No, no, no. It may have ended up that way, but you blew up at me after an entire week of solid teamwork. I expect the snide comments and the general air of grumpiness, but that was different… What happened?” He made the mistake of making eye contact with her. She didn’t look angry, just hurt.

Taken aback, all he could manage was “… I don’t know.” He wasn’t sure how to respond to that “emotion” nor did he have any plans to discuss feelings. If he was being honest, he wasn’t even sure why he did it himself. Perhaps it was self-sabotage and he was pushing her away, but to accept that would mean acknowledging they had gotten close; that he had, at some point, made the subconscious decision to stop viewing her as a pawn or even just a colleague, and to indulge the need for far more than their formal arrangement. He wasn’t ready to come to terms with the possible loss of his objectivity when it came to whatever went on between them, but he knew he’d have to confront the undercurrents of their relationship at some point. Right now, they had discovered a possible breakthrough in their research and there was no room for delay. With a ghost of a plan in mind for how to move forward with Nanami, he decided it would be more logical to smooth things over in the immediate moment with Dr. Watanabe; separating the two identities giving him the illusion of control. He continued” But I do know it won’t happen again. That was…unprofessional. How is your head?”

She bit her lip and exhaled, seeing the switch flick in his eyes knowing the wall had been put back up. “It’s... it’s fine. Just a little—no, really sore.” She confirmed with herself, rubbing her hand over the source of the pain to find stiches. Why wouldn’t he just overhaul this? “So, you decided to fix this the old-fashioned way, huh? The stitchwork is impeccable, but why go through the trouble? You could have just—”

“I didn’t want to touch you.”

“… Ouch.” She winced, glancing away as the abrupt response hurt a bit more than she expected.

Realizing it hadn’t been received how he planned, he clarified,” I meant I…didn’t want to use it on you. I was under the impression we had somehow attacked each other and assumed you might not find the prospect of me handling you in that way all that appealing.”

“…Oh. Well, thank you... I don’t mind if you touch me now” he rose a brow at this, “—I mean like to heal or—Oh you know what I mean.” She rolled her eyes before crossing her arms and continuing, “Just… just do it, please.” The last word tacked on with a mumble.

Letting out an amused breath, he rose, motioning her to turn so her back faced him as he removed his gloves. She quickly brushed her hair to the side, missing a few strands. She tensed as he was much closer than she was prepared for, feeling the warmth of his hands against the nape of her neck as he gently gathered the stray hairs and handed them to her to gather in front. Smoothing down the part, he leisurely ran his hands through her hair, losing himself for a second before noticing the tops of her ears had reddened and her breath had quickened at his ministrations. Refocusing, he disassembled the stitches before immediately healing the wound knowing even a millisecond of delay would prove very painful. “Done.”

Cracking her neck and rolling her shoulders, she felt normal again and ready to get out of bed as her muscles had been unused for the better part of three days. Checking the time on her phone on the nightstand she saw it was only 6 am, “So, you wanna go for a run?”

“That’s not funny.”

“Fine, fine. But on a serious note, I think we should head to the lab. I know the deal was 2 weeks bu—”

“You don’t have to bargain. Get cleaned up, I’ll start preparations for testing tomorrow.”

She turned to him, brows raised in surprise, “Well okay then. I’ll see you back at the house.”

“See you there.” He said before exiting her room, shutting the door softly.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

After a thorough scrubbing and stretching, she felt ready to get back to her remaining paperwork, putting on her favorite chunky turtleneck and sweatpants effectively pulling off the lazy-but-still-fashionable look. Brewing herself a cup of tea and pulling out her workbag, she thought it best to not dwell on all the Feels ™ that had continuously threatened to surface, which was undoubtedly exacerbated by their current living situation.

She was woman enough to admit she stared just a little too long, smiled just a bit too enthusiastically, and was way too excited by even the smallest bits of physical contact with him… But it’s just a crush. She lied to herself as though he hadn’t been the most intellectually stimulating person she’d had the pleasure of talking to. As though she’d ever felt silence more comfortable than their time in the lab or simply sharing meals together. As though— Girl if you don’t concentrate... She chastised herself before attempting to neatly compartmentalize her feelings, refusing to acknowledge just how much more difficult keeping them in check had become. It’s just because you’re all up under each other, it’ll pass.

Refocusing on the task at hand, she opened her laptop and pulled out a well-worn file folder, her gaze turning somber as her fingers traced the bend of it; evidence of the many nights she’d revisited it only to close it when the answers didn’t come. In the past month she’d taken on a patient who seemingly had nowhere to go. Many of her colleagues had turned him away, seemingly too jaded to go through the trouble of dealing with such a case. Nanami herself was puzzled when she reviewed his file, but she knew there was no other option; she had to at least try.

Kenta was a very jovial, large person with a personality to match. Built much like a strongman with tusks not unlike a walrus, he was hard to miss. Before he became her patient, she’d see him making small talk with the other patients, encouraging them though he himself was on the way to chemotherapy, his weight dwindling by the day. The previous doctors told him that he had osteosarcoma, a rare form of bone cancer. It was seemingly exacerbated by his quirk that gave him dense bones; they were perfect for diving, but apparently came at this very high price. The treatment had shown mild success, but her predecessors had decided his condition was becoming too advanced and an amputation was in order. After that visit, he attempted to keep his jovial nature, but his physical appearance continued to deteriorate, the medication and tests taking their toll. Full-hardy laughs were interrupted by coughing fits, round cheeks flexed into a habitual smile were replaced with gaunt hollows. Nanami couldn’t help but feel was cruel to be given such great power and still be unable to solve this problem.

She agonized, sincerely perplexed as to why someone as healthy and active as Kenta could have developed such an aggressive and rare form of cancer so quickly. It didn’t helped that after the first doctor’s diagnosis, the subsequent three doctors took little to no efforts to confirm said diagnosis, so she remained thoroughly unconvinced. She was a prodigy in her own right, but that alone couldn’t negate seniority. To go against the other doctors, she would need substantial proof of her theory—and also a theory to begin with.

Nanami was stirred from her thoughts by the sound of the silo being activated, as Overhaul stepped out. It had been hours since she had last gotten up as day turned into late night, too engrossed in her task. She glanced up for a moment, giving an absent-minded “hey” before returning to her work. It was unlike her to brush him off so quickly, and he assumed there were still hard feelings from earlier. Approaching her, he was about to speak before he caught a glimpse of her screen and notes, the file folder and its contents now haphazardly splayed on the coffee table, a few with drops of moisture on them.

“Didn’t I tell you no drinking in the living roo—” he stopped short, hearing a small sniffle escape her, before she attempted to cover it up by clearing her throat.

“Sorry, yeah, no drinking in the living room.” She laughed emptily, gathering the papers that were stained.

Seeing people cry was usually... uninspiring to him, to say the least; he couldn’t understand it, the need for such dramatic displays as an adult. But he found himself making exceptions more and more; she wasn’t one to throw herself on the floor in a tantrum—at least not seriously. Her tears were stifled, indignant, and his curiosity—yes, we’ll call it “curiosity”— got the better of him.

“What are you doing? Crying?”

“No!... Maybe.” She stubbornly corrected, further averting her gaze, hoping to use her hair as a curtain to obscure her face. Pausing for a beat, his attention turned to what he presumed was the source. He read over it as she attempted to fix her face. His brow furrowed, and Nanami turned back to see what he was doing. “Why do you care?”

“Osteosarcoma seems like an odd diagnosis for someone with his age and history.” He noted, choosing not to answer her question.

“That’s what I said!” she instinctually replied before remembering herself, “I mean quit snooping, this is patient-doctor information. It’s illegal to share.”

“Yet you brought it outside your office, to a yakuza base.” He deadpanned, pointing out the hypocrisy, taking a seat next to her on the couch. She pursed her lips, continuing to mull over theories, assuming he’d get bored and leave her be. “If not osteosarcoma, what do you think it could be?”

Knowing discretion was one of his strong suits, she decided to humor him. “I’m not sure. The tumor grew extremely fast and they began chemo almost immediately, so I didn’t get the benefit of a fresh diagnosis. He’d been perfectly healthy otherwise and his line of work kept him pretty active.”

“What’s his occupation?”

“He’s a commercial diver, it’s pretty fitting since his quirk gives him a lot of walrus-like qualities.”

“Sounds hazardous.”

“You’re one to talk. He’s practically made for it so drowning or being crushed under the pressure is near-impossible for him.”

“I was referring to all of the equipment. The fact that he’s kept all of his limbs up to this point is impressive.”

Slowly turning to him, a tired look on her face, she replied “… Your compliments are so very strange.”

Shrugging he continued, “It’s not that odd. The number of divers and sailors I’ve seen at port with mutilated legs is not small.”

Nanami was mid eye-roll when an epiphany struck her. Her eyes went wide, and she began frantically rummaging through the paperwork. "Shit-- wait, online!" grabbing her laptop, she began typing in a frenzy as Overhaul watched calmly. Finding Kenta's online records in the hospital database, she read a file from a month before his diagnosis stating he had been in a diving accident that severely fractured his leg where his tumor now was. She let out a shaky breath of excitement, "MO. It's fucking Myositis Ossificans! This explains why the 'tumor' grew so quickly. It's because it wasn't even really a tumor, just his body's response to a traumatic injury-- This is amazing!"

He felt the corner of his mouth tug upward, as she practically wiggled in genuine excitement. “That diagnosis sounds much more appropriate.”

Facing him on the couch, she reflexively grabbed him by his shoulders, lost in excitement, before realizing what she was doing. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to just grab you like that,” she hurriedly removed her hands before he waved it off. “It’s just... I’ve been poring over this since I got this case but hadn’t thought to make that connection since he never mentioned the injury.” Thinking back for a moment, it dawned on her, “... how did you know to ask?”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb, it doesn’t suit you.”

Smiling, he rose, walking to the kitchen, “Would you like a cup?”

Very aware he was evading her question, she rolled her eyes smiling in kind “Sure. Of what?” She wrote down her final notes before putting away the files, tucking them and her laptop away as she waited for an answer.

Bringing over two cups of sake and the bottle, he sat next her with his own before sliding over her cup. She gave him a look and he sighed, “Consider it your reward for your work today. But don’t get used to it, my living room consumption rule still stands.”

She raised her hands in surrender, chuckling before taking a sip. “Oh! Let’s play a game.”

His brows furrowed as he continued to face forward still enjoying his drink,” Do I seem like a man who plays games?”

“Well, judging by the shogi board, I’d say yes.”

“… Just set the board.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a bit before starting the odd conversation, chatting and playing until they were on their fourth cup. Nanami was admittedly tipsy by this point and decided to ask something that had been on her mind for a while now with the aid of her liquid courage. If ever there was an opportunity, it was now, “Hey, why didn’t you ever become a doctor?” The question caught him off guard as he stopped drinking and peered off into the distance thoughtfully. His lips parting for a moment to speak before closing again to consider his answer.

“It would be difficult to treat people you can’t touch.”

“Hm… sounds like a copout. I wear gloves on the job at least 80% of the time and a lot of the non-surgical work that requires touching could easily be done by a nurse. So, what’s the real reason?”

“Well, you’re awfully bold tonight.”

“Eh, it’s your fault anyway,” she reminded him, toying with the sake glass. “So, are you gonna tell me or not?”

He considered her for a second before answering, “Win this game and I’ll tell you.”

“Easy.” She shot back before considering another outcome, “and what if I lose?”

He smiled easily, her stomach flipping as a glint of mischief was evident in his eyes, “Just try your best to win.”

Nanami was determined, or at least she convinced herself she was, not wanting to confront her curiosity at what he would do if she lost … or what he would do to me… Ok, let me put down this sake before I get a life sentence to horny jail. Recomposing herself a bit, she observed the board, stifling a smirk when she saw her path to victory. It was a moderately long game, but the outcome was in her favor as she took his king. Raising the piece betwixt her fingers, she smirked, “Now spill the beans.”

He stared into the proverbial abyss, slightly peeved at the loss, priding himself as a more-than proficient player before tonight. “Give me a moment.” He said casually raising a finger as he cleared his throat. Taking a measured sip from his cup before locking eyes with her, “I have a duty.” Nanami shot him an unsatisfactory look before he clarified, continuing, “Pops took me in when I had nothing to offer. This,” he began as he leered at his hands, recalling the destruction they regularly wrought, “is what I was meant to become in order to repay him. Bringing the yakuza back to their former glory and carrying on his legacy are my primary objectives. My time is limited since he’s not as young as he used to be. The years of schooling it would take to reap the benefits he deserves would prove much too long. Indulging in a dream like that is not in my nature, even if I did have the time. That is why.”

Her smile dulled as she processed his response. She wasn’t self-righteous enough to impose her own ideals on him, but it seemed like such a waste. His leading questions tonight were just one of many examples of his expertise. Even without the formal schooling he had a level of mastery that could easily earn him a degree, and coupled with his research skills, he could do a world of good. But instead here he was, content with just the opportunity to pay his debts. For someone so arrogant, he thought surprisingly little of his own nature. Maybe someday someone could convince him he didn’t have to carry around this weight all the time. Still very tipsy, she responded,” Well, if it’s a dream of yours to begin with, your nature can’t be all that bad now can it?” At this he knitted his brows, trying to accept the possibility. Seeing his hesitation, she continued, “You can do both, you know. Give yourself some more credit, bird brain.” She slurred the last insult, finishing her sake off with a gulp, not wanting to sound too soft. Feeling the consequences of her actions, she swayed sleepily in her seat before closing her eyes.

The next thing she knew, she felt herself being nudged awake, “Come on, get up. You need to get into bed.”

“But it’s sooo comfy here. Why are you being such a buzzkill, Kai?” she whined as he grasped her forearms, encouraging her to rise from her seat.

Stopping in his tracks, he asked a bit taken aback, “Where did you hear that name?”

“Your Poppy Pops told me” She almost sang, a grin plastered on her face.

“…Do not ever use the phrase ‘Poppy Pops’ again. Also, if couches were meant for sleeping, beds wouldn’t exist.” He responded irritated, though he handled her like porcelain, still remembering how unpleasant the last three days had been. Guiding Nanami to her room, he finally got her to lay down after tuning out a slew of other ridiculous nickname proposals, the drowsiness setting in as soon as her head hit the pillow. Knowing it would be too much work convincing a now drunk Nanami to get under the covers, he begrudgingly put a spare blanket over her. Before leaving, he looked back at her sleepy form. As much as they could grate each other’s nerves, no one had ever thought to encourage him or challenge his own thinking besides his father. He had never been a warm or sentimental person, having to try thrice as hard to grasp emotions that came so naturally to others, but she had planted a seed of doubt. Having always been so confident in his own lacking, he found a part of himself excited to be proven wrong for the first time. Before closing the door softly, he spoke “Thank you, Nanami.”

#overhaul #kai chisaki #chisaki kai #bnha #mha overhaul #overhaul fanfiction #mha fanfic #overhaul x oc #bnha fanfic #mha oc #overhaul x nanami #nanami watanabe #same difference #mc fanart #multichapter #fanfiction #fanfic #overhaul fanfic

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joannevixxon · 4 years

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Love Comes At A Cost

An Elsamaren fanfic by JoanneVixxon on AO3.

Summary:

The Fifth Spirit is one of many myths that came to life. And, not all myths are meant to be saviours in times of woe.

Just as Arendelle welcomes Queen Anna into her reign, the Northuldra wade through their newfound freedom under the protection of their Snow Queen, Elsa. Unbeknownst to them, lurking behind shadows awaits a monster whose anger finds peace in the demise of others. Together, Elsa, Honeymaren, Anna and Kristoff must save Arendelle and Northuldra from prophetic destruction.

Meanwhile, Elsa and Honeymaren come to terms with their mutual attraction— as terrifying as it is exciting.

Preview: "How ever cold a fortitude of silence Elsa bore, it melted, came undone at the seams, shed its mask of immaculate armour, once Elsa leaned forwards to rest her elbows languidly against the railing, as if to ask for back rubs instead. Like a steed to its master, the Queen of Ice and Snow bowed her head ever so slightly to her Northuldra companion."

Chapter 1: Anna’s Astute Mind

Queen Anna of Arendelle had the likeable disposition of a puppy in summer. Her entire existence seemed to premise upon her providence of love and warmth, even when they were aplenty under the radiant sun.

She was fiercely loyal to companions, deft in maintaining her optimism through thick and thin, steadfast in altruistic commitments, to name a few of her many virtuous attributes. She carried herself like a fountain whose liquid provided welcomed relief to parched birds, except with Anna, she did it through sheer benevolence.

Fine, indeed, her feisty obstinacy prevailed at times, be it within the confines of council rooms or private quarters, patiently endured by royal advisors and Kristoff alike. But, it was Anna’s astute mind that allowed her to suspect that some volatile anxiety had been brewing amongst the spirits.

A gust of wind had been bellowing through her study every afternoon. Her fireplace had flickered pink time and time again. A distorted neigh echoed in her ears at every casual passing by the fjord. And, worst of all, she had been tripping over plain flat soil more in the past week than she had in a lifetime! That’s a lot of bruised knees, stained dresses and dismayed grumbles coming from the castle staff!

Maybe, it was just that— coincidences, or Arendelle’s weather throwing a temper tantrum (of its own accord, this time).

Or maybe, it was the spirits.

Maybe… It was Elsa.

It all happened during the second game night of January—the month following Elsa’s 26th birthday.

The sun of late had been setting at five in the evenings, painting the dinner table a warm cozy fuschia against the backdrop of a white crisp winter. Clanking away with their forks and knives were Anna, Kristoff and Olaf, joined by Elsa and Honeymaren.

This wasn’t the first time that Elsa had been accompanied by Northuldra guests, but it did strike Anna by surprise when she found the blonde descending Nokk at the docks with none other than Honeymaren.

Upon the touch of Elsa’s delicate fingers on her forearm, Honeymaren wore a courteous smile and said to Anna, simply, as though hoping not to invite any further query, “Ryder had to attend to private matters,”

The food was scrumptious that night, wine all the better. Anna’s keen gaze couldn’t help but linger at Elsa as she restrained herself from sipping a second glass. One may compare her sister nowadays to spirits and deities, but she was no god of alcohol. Mild intoxication alone was enough to convince Elsa that sauntering on rooftops was as safe as belting hymns, the prospect of death put aside altogether as myth.

“How’s Northuldra?” asked Kristoff, mouth chock-full of braised salmon. “Anna and I have been wanting to pay everyone a visit,”

“If my schedule allows it...” Anna chimed in, sighing. “Seriously, Elsa, how did you do it? We were able to share tea dates while you were Queen, and I’m struggling with...” A hand gesticulated in the air, as if to conjure words with magic. “...struggling with small things, like menus for dignitary lunches, village tours, picking dresses!”

Elsa stifled a giggle. “Northuldra’s fine, Kristoff. Thanks for asking. And, those aren’t small things at all, Anna,” Proving to everyone that she remained a stickler for manners, Elsa dabbed her lips lightly with the hem of her napkin before speaking any further. “Remember, I was eighteen when I ascended the throne. I had barely turned a new chapter into adulthood, let alone prepared myself enough to serve as sovereign, or be of age for coronation. Every single little thing was as daunting as it could have been…”

Catching sight of her reflection on the impeccably clean wine glass, she looked up at Anna and gave her the tenderest of smiles. “Dipping a pen to write letters was as scary as negotiating trade deals with kings of neighbouring states, likewise with picking dresses or menus for dignitary lunches. It’s all new to you, Anna. Give it time. I’m sure you’d find yourself comfortably acquainted with your role much quicker than I ever did,”

“You’re right. A-At least, I hope so,” replied Anna, fumbling with her hands. Her eyes frantically surveyed the room for a comfortable point of fixation. “I mean, it’s only been half a year. I shouldn’t expect to conduct myself as effectively as you did when it probably, no, definitely, totally, took years of practice on your end, I imagine,”

Elsa smile grew even wider. Having just endured being the subject of a portrait painting, Anna was dressed in full regalia that night, with her velvet train whipping in the wind and tiara twinkling lustrously under candlelight. But Elsa saw the same sprightly kid with pig-tails as she peered into the teal eyes of her younger sister—now Queen and no longer a Princess. “Yup, years of practice,” said Elsa, before adding, “You don’t have to reign as I did, Anna. Please, conduct yourself as you see fit. You are your own person after all,”

“Well, y-yeah, of course,” said Anna, returning the smile. “But there’s nothing wrong with—I mean—it’s recommended to follow in the footsteps of my predecessors, right?”

Pursing her lips, Elsa swirled her wine as though to exude an air of nonchalance, before, to everyone’s surprise, imbibing the wine all in one gulp. Anna felt her voice hitch. That must’ve scorched her sister’s throat for sure. It was far from difficult to notice the reddish hue that crept up to her sister’s porcelain cheeks.

Upon the loud creak of doors opening by the far end of the Great Hall, Kai stepped in to announce that dessert was ready to be served. Over citrus palate cleansers and parfait, Honeymaren endeavoured through the flurry of questions of which Olaf had a curiously endless supply.

“What are your thoughts on pranks?” asked Olaf, at one point.

“Pranks?” Honeymaren cocked her head. “Fun, in moderation,”

“Fantastic!” The three short twigs that sat atop Olaf’s crown gave the faintest quiver. “With an ample amount of time on my hands, I can afford to entertain my personal interests,”

“Like… planning pranks?” asked Honeymaren, brows furrowed. The royal family of Arendelle defied convention, but a snowman taking stock of ideas in horseplay was new terrain.

“Yes, pay attention,” snapped Olaf. “I recently made a list of pranks that I thought might be fun to try with a close companion of yours,” Honeymaren and Elsa shared a nervous glance. Bringing a twiggy palm to his forehead, Olaf heaved a theatrical sigh, “No, not Elsa. Nokk ,”

At that response, the four adults shared an exclamation of surprise.

“Oh, good!” continued Olaf, smiling. “I see my suggestion is already garnering desired effects! You see, I read that potassium explodes upon contact with water—”

“O-Olaf!” stuttered Anna loudly. “That’s a fantastic idea! I’m sure we’d like to hear all about it tomorrow morning. Didn’t you say something about, um, saving good stuff for later makes you feel happier, more excited, or something—?”

“Oh, why yes, Anna! How can I forget: greater satisfaction as a result of greater delays in gratification! An excellent suggestion. In that case,—” Olaf winked. “—I’ll save it for later,”

“Good!” Anna’s eyes sparkled, as she turned to face everyone else. “Who’s up for games?”

———

Games could not have come sooner.

Sitting still was never Anna’s best pursuits, let alone standing statuesque in full regalia with an orb and scepter in hand for a portrait painting. It took a painstaking two hours, enough for the newly anointed queen’s mind to wander from the colour scheme of bed sheets to apocalyptic war.

Rubbing salt to Anna’s wounds, the court painter then had the audacity to take a photograph as reference for his final touches— “Live painting still carries the best merit, ma’am,” he had said with his nose pointed up to the ceiling. Had Kristoff been elsewhere, the court painter would have met Anna’s fists shortly before being delivered to the doorsteps of his Maker.

Anna’s arms were itching to flail about. Her foot tapped impatiently against the timber as she gawkily handed her dress to her lady-in-waiting and fumbled to wear her nightgown, first inside-out, then backwards, and finally, as it should be worn.

Striding out in haste, Anna’s hair remained tightly wound in a singular bun, as had been the tradition with queens of Arendelle. But upon the doors to her study, Anna found herself nearing a dither.

Frantically, she ruffled her hair into loose locks.

Her heart had once beat aflutter when Elsa stared at Anna, as though to find their mother somewhere behind the fabric of her younger sister’s regal mien. “Mother’s gone,” Elsa had mumbled pensively, before realising what had tumbled out of her lips. “I’m sorry, i-it’s just… the resemblance is uncanny,”

“Anna?”

Returning to present time, Anna turned to find Elsa and Honeymaren jogging down the hallway in their nightgowns. “Oh,” said Anna, mustering composure. “That’s unlike you to be late—”

Elsa pulled Anna into a tight embrace without a moment to spare. “I’m actually excited,” she whispered, pulling away. “I’ve been practicing with Honey,”

“She has,” Honeymaren nodded over Elsa’s shoulder. “Though, there remains room for improvement,”

“Just last night you said I was excellent,” Tapping playfully on Honeymaren’s shoulder, Elsa turned the door handle with an adroit twist of the hand as she had done countless times before as queen, and held the door with a smile.

It must have taken Anna a full moment to realise that Honeymaren had been standing abreast, giving her the courtesy to enter first. Anna stumbled into the study. Every piece of furniture was in its rightful place— the sofa was riveted in the center, curtains drawn, paintings of her Father’s and Elsa’s coronation hung behind looming shadows— and yet, the expanse of the room felt foreign.

Anna suddenly blurted, “You two...were talking about charades, yeah?”

Her words hung in the air for a moment too long, waiting to be plucked as prophecy. Elsa darted a look at Honeymaren, before her nimble fingers started fiddling with loose strands of hair. “What did you think we were talking about?”

Anna shrugged, blushing. “Nothing... I-I don’t know. Never mind me,”

———

The midnight chime of the old grandfather clock came sooner than expected. Kristoff announced that he best retired to bed or he’d slip into slumber right then on the sofa.

“Just admit it,” said Anna. “You don’t want to clean up the mess you’ve made,” She pointed at the litter of paper on the floor. Kristoff could only offer a yawn in response, before racing out of the room with Olaf.

“Boys,” said Honeymaren. Raking in a load of paper balls with her hands, she piled them up into an idle bucket sitting dangerously close to the hearth. Its once blazing wood had now reduced to crackling embers, dimming the study down to the haze of blue moonlight.

“Thanks, Honeymaren,”

“I’ll put out the fire,”

“Oh, no, actually, don’t… It’s a bit cold...” Anna paused, trembling at the sudden chill that trickled down her spine. As she wrapped her arms around her middle, Anna’s eyes trailed around the room, tracing the familiar figure of a certain quiet someone. Sure enough, standing in solitude on the balcony was Elsa. Her loose blonde locks and purple satin dress fluttered in the strong breeze that drifted its way into the room, threading along curtains, lapping against carpets, hushing cinders to the lullaby of distant tides.

Without so much as a pardon, Honeymaren ambled towards the windows left ajar, making her presence known to Elsa by placing a tender hand squarely against the small of her bare back. Anna watched that very hand falter in its attempt to provide comfort, as it trembled to give gentle pats. Yet, how ever cold a fortitude of silence Elsa bore, it melted, came undone at the seams, shed its mask of immaculate armour, once Elsa leaned forwards to rest her elbows languidly against the railing, as if to ask for back rubs instead. Like a steed to its master, the Queen of Ice and Snow bowed her head ever so slightly to her Northuldra companion.

The whistle of the breeze lulled, leaving Anna in the placidness of stale office air. Quietly, Anna joined them, smiling appreciatively at Honeymaren’s warm nod of encouragement.

“Elsa?” said Anna. “Is everything alright?”

Elsa seemed transfixed at the undulating ridges of mountains, which caressed the heavens as much as it dived into the earth behind the town’s lofty roofs and spires. She turned to Anna, with a smile stretching across quivering lips. “My favourite view of Arendelle,” she said in faint whispers.

Catching Honeymaren’s averting gaze, Anna sensed that her sister meant to say something else.

———

Anna tossed and turned in bed at the break of dawn, begging herself to catch a few more minutes of sleep before Gerda would come knocking at her door. But, her attention seemed to have overstayed its welcome in the deepest recesses of her mind, hitched against some dark suspicion that her sister was shackled again by an old habit of hers—keeping secrets, namely ones that bode misfortune.

Elsa had three years following their parents’ departure to break to her sister that she possessed magic, but chose not to until she had casted Arendelle into winter. She had weeks to tell her family about hearing a voice, but chose not to until Arendelle had nearly crumbled into the earth. Elsa was never irresponsible, however, far from it. Quite simply, she was often paralysed by fear, and would care less about herself than to worry the people she loved about problems beyond her control. Anna learned that she needed to entice her sister into conversation, remind her of the unceasing support she had, or suffer the consequences.

It didn’t help that the chilly breeze of last night had invited itself into Anna’s bed. Getting up meant falling prey to shivers—all the more reason to stay warm under quilted sheets.

Just as Anna’s eyes fluttered shut, a loud bolt of footsteps trailed outside her room, dying down as quick as it came. Anna jolted upright.

“Gerda?” called Anna, breathless. Quickly, she tumbled out of bed. Opening the door just enough to pop her head out, she looked left and right to find the hallway properly deserted. “I must’ve been dreaming...,”

Convinced that the rush of adrenaline would have done little to allow for more snoozes, Anna decided to officially start her day. Game nights this past year were usually followed by a day off for Anna and Elsa to catch up, over tea cakes, horse rides, picnics, village tours, anything. This time, however, as Gerda had been sympathetic to remind the young queen, the governor of Jorgenfjord had requested an urgent audience with her for that morning. Replacing a sister bonding session with a meeting was the last of Anna’s desires. But, the least she could do for Elsa was to lend her ears, be a shoulder to cry on, to support however she can, before rushing into the first task of the day.

Dress neatly donned, hair tightly wound in a bun, Anna made her way to Elsa’s room. As with all monarchs following their coronation, Anna moved into her parents’ room, which had been Elsa’s until she abdicated. So, quite simply, Elsa was forced to return to her childhood room.

Anna rapped a familiar tune on her sister’s door, before rubbing her cold hands together.

No response.

“Elsa?” called Anna, knocking again. “I’m sorry if it’s a bit early. Wait, actually, this should be past your usual waking time, unless you’ve gotten lazy in the forest! Hah! Can’t blame you. I-I’d do the same. I can tell you that this is definitely not my usual waking time, though. Still isn’t! At least not for another year! Way too early. Anyway, Elsa, like I said yesterday, I have to attend an early meeting. Before you go for your walk around town, I’d really, um, appreciate it, if we can talk. Talk? That sounds too serious. I-I just want to have a little chat , really, that’s all.”

Anna bit her lip and clasped her hands tighter, hoping to squeeze some warmth into her palms. The permeating silence became indicative of another failed attempt to elicit a response. Taking a deep breath, Anna opened the door to peek inside, to check if Elsa had, for the first time in forever, overslept. To her surprise, the room was empty—so empty, in fact, that the stack of towels and fruits that Gerda had placed carefully on the bed seemed completely untouched.

Anna blinked, confused.

“Anna?” croaked a voice from behind.

Anna turned to find Elsa walking down the hallway in her white dress, rubbing circles into her eyes. “Elsa! Good morning,”

“Good morning,”

“I-I was knocking on your door but…”

Elsa halted beside her sister, squinting at the familiar row of snowflakes that adorned her white door. “...but what, Anna?”

“Elsa, did you… come from Honeymaren’s room?”

Elsa nodded. “Yeah?”

Anna’s eyes widened, sparkling. The redhead opened her mouth to scream but frantic hands clasped it shut. The epiphany slammed into her like a hustling reindeer, jamming all colours of emotions into her core, waiting to burst into shrieks of rainbows.

She and Kristoff had a fair share of amorous intrigues before their engagement— hiking up trails, serenades in stables, rowing in the great expanse of Arendelle’s fjords, sneaking into the castle just before her quiet disappearance caught the attention of her sister. This, with Elsa, was similar. She knew all too well.

Elsa looked concerned. “Anna, what’s wrong?” She placed a hand on Anna’s forehead. Anna shuddered at the touch and flinched away. “O-oh, I’m so sorry, Anna. Was it cold?”

“Elsa!” exclaimed Anna in hushed whispers, rounding her sister towards the windows. “This makes so much sense. I knew it! Something was bothering you!”

Shoulders arched, Elsa fidgeted with the hem of her sheer cape. “Y-you do?” said Elsa to Anna’s back. “Oh, Anna. I was actually planning to tell you last night with—“

“—Honeymaren!” yelled Anna, barely containing her excitement as she saw the confused young Northuldra approaching the two sisters. Anna dashed to Honeymaren’s side, tugged her by the wrist and nudged her towards Elsa. “I know, Elsa, I know. First, you didn’t bring Ryder because you didn’t want me to get confused,”

Elsa and Honeymaren shot a flabbergasted look at the redhead. “Wait, what?” queried Elsa, brows furrowed.

“During dinner, when I talked about following in your footsteps, you gulped down that glass of wine like it was coffee because, hah, I’m with Kristoff! Of course , I don’t swing in the other direction,”

“Anna—“

“And, oh, seriously, Elsa? I thought you were good with subtlety but I stand corrected. ‘Just last night you said I was excellent’ ? You really think I can believe you guys when you say it was about ‘charades’ ?” Anna winked.

Elsa and Honeymaren were now as red as berries, realising what Anna had meant. “A-Anna,” started Elsa. “You got it all wro—“

“Last night! At the balcony! You wanted to say it to me. You wanted to announce that you and Honeymaren are in love!” At this point, Elsa nearly ducked behind Honeymaren—god forbid anyone saw in her furiously blushing state. “But you couldn’t, so you talked about the view! And Honeymaren—“ The Northuldra turned to look at Anna but her gaze seemed to have pierced right through Anna’s body and out the window. “—Oh, Honeymaren, the way you rubbed Elsa’s back, how intimate, how romantic ,” Anna glanced at her old room, whose amenities were meant to extend to Honeymaren alone. “And now, you two are sharing a bed —”

“Y-Your Majesty—“ stammered Honeymaren.

“Say no more,” responded Anna, bringing a finger to her lips. “You have my blessing,”

Feeling a tug on her dress, Honeymaren found Elsa crouching by her feet, bringing her knees to her chest. Ice fractals crackled beneath her soles. “Elsa,” whispered Honeymaren. “I thought you were planning to tell her—“

“Oh, why, yes, of course!” gasped Anna. “You’re absolutely right, Elsa. It’s like I never learn. I take it back. I don’t give you two my blessing. You have to court each other, for at least three years like Kristoff and I, before you could even think about something as huge as marriage,”

As Honeymaren and Elsa stared blankly into space, the breeze outside howled louder and louder, whistling through the cracks of windows, rustling through scraggy trees. Either Gale, the Wind Spirit, was thoughtful enough to spare them the pain of listening to their own thoughts, or Gale was having the cackle of a lifetime.

“Your Majesty,” called Gerda from afar. She took a few quick steps towards the three young women before giving a deep curtsy. “Your Royal Highness,” She bowed her head at Elsa, and turned back to Anna. “Your meeting, ma’am. It starts in ten minutes,”

Anna wrenched Elsa by the arm, forcing her up her feet, and gave Elsa and Honeymaren a hug that squeezed all the air out of their lungs. “That’s my cue! I love you! See you for lunch!”

With the click of her heels, the young queen was off to the council room. Gerda followed closely behind but darted a concerned look at Elsa. In all her years of taking care of Elsa, she had never seen the blonde so pink.

———

Anna was practically hopping to the council room when Lieutenant Mattias came to her visual periphery with a steaming mug in his grip. He extended a polite hand, halting the young queen in her tracks.

“Your Majesty,” he said, bowing his head. “Would you like a cup of hot chocolate milk?”

“Why yes!” said Anna, accepting the mug. “Did you make this specially for me?”

“No, ma’am. There was a surplus in the kitchen,” Mattias responded. He shifted his weight and crossed his arms, waiting for the young queen to take a couple sips. His voice quieted down to a whisper. “The kitchen staff said that Honeymaren requested for two cups of hot chocolate at 5 in the morning. She was as pale as a ghost, they said,”

Anna nearly spewed milk at Mattias’ face. “Wait, what?”

“Ma’am,” continued Mattias, looking around. “It is not my intention to startle you before your meeting but I think it best to know if anything had gone amiss. I can help you… check on things while you attend the council meeting,”

Anna nodded slowly. “Oh… Okay…?”

“Did Elsa say or do anything that struck you as… strange or peculiar?”

Anna took a step back, her stomach tightening. “No, I mean…S-She seemed nervous and preoccupied, b-but—” Anna shook her head. “Nothing too suspicious. What’s wrong?”

“Several guards with clandestine posts have just reported to me that she had been in Arendelle for at least one day before she arrived in this castle yesterday,” replied Mattias, wearing the most empathetic look he could muster for the young queen. “She was first spotted northeast of the castle, in the forest, which I believe you would know to be—“

“—close to the Valley of the Living Rocks. The trolls...,” said Anna, brows furrowing.

“Yes, ma’am,” responded Mattias. He hunched forward to whisper further into Anna’s ear. “The same day, she was spotted in Jorgenfjord, whose governor, you are about to meet in five minutes,”

Anna paused. Tears formed at the rim of her eyes, as her breaths grew shallow. Elsa was keeping secrets from her. All those letters they wrote to each other and Elsa had chosen not to mention a single hitch. Anna felt the hollows of her chest kindle with fire, its cavities ignited with a fury that wanted burn every morsel of her sister’s failure once more to deliver promises of honest disclosure— promises to never shut each other out again.

The thing is, Elsa did express her intention of confidence. Just that, Anna hadn’t given Elsa the chance to even catch her breath this morning.

Anna stood in silence.

It was her fault.

Elsa wanted to talk, but Anna didn’t make it clear that she was ready to listen.

“Mattias,” sputtered Anna. “I-I don’t know what all of this means. For all we know, she was just giving Honeymaren a tour around Arendelle! But... I know one thing for certain. Elsa would only request for hot chocolate at that hour if she had a nightmare. A bad one. She started getting them before our journey to Northuldra,” Anna paused. “I need you to go into my old room—the one with crocuses on its door—and check for any sign of Elsa having blasted ice in the room,” Anna gulped her chocolate milk down. “And send for royal guards to follow her. Discreetly. Keep her safe,”

Mattias simply nodded, motioning for the queen to wipe the chocolate moustache off her lips.

As Anna steeled herself and entered the council room, Mattias dashed to Anna’s old room, wondering why Elsa had swapped rooms with Honeymaren. He entered to find the room clean and dry. Either the maids had done an impeccable job of discarding any evidence to suggest that Elsa froze the room or Elsa had gotten better at thawing every last snowflake.

Mattias had barely touched the door handle to make his exit, when a bowl of fruits on the mantelpiece caught his eye— what a curious place to put a fruit bowl. He approached it, and picked up an apple. It seemed badly bruised, as if it had been tossed to the ground and trampled by the hooves of a stampede. Squeezing it slowly, the apple molded into the wrinkles of his fist, smushed into gooey pulp.

“You can’t find ice that has been properly thawed,” Mattias mused to himself. “But you can find the effects it’s left behind,”

———

A/N: I’VE NOT WRITTEN SOMETHING THIS SERIOUS IN 4 YEARS???? Please spare me

#elsamaren #frozen 2 #elsa #honeymaren #elsa x honeymaren #honeyelsa #fanfic #frozen #disney frozen #snow sisters #frohana #post-frozen 2 #fanfiction #ao3 #my writing stuff #my fanfic

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captainofthebrokentides · 4 years

Text

Am I your Lock Screen? Benny Colon x OC

Just a little ramble I wrote for the prompt : “Am I your lockscreen?” “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

Lilly yawned as she followed Benny into the departure lounge of the airport, there were kids running around all over the place, and tired looking parents shouting at them and trying to round them as various boarding calls were heard over the loud speaker.

She knew she’d regret agreeing to go to Dallas with him for Thanksgiving this year. Not being from America it was never a big deal to her, she’d normally just spend the few days off curled on her sofa with a glass of wine and a good book. Perfect peace for a couple of days.

But when he and Erin broke up he’d basically begged her to come with him, as his family were expecting him to bring someone. He’d batted his big dark eyes at her and pouted. He knew it was basically impossible for her to resist him when he looked at her like that.

“Ugh fine.” She’s said with a playful grin and lightly smacked his chest.

“You know they’ve always wanted to meet you.” Benny had shrugged.

“I’ve no idea why.”

“You’re important to me.” He looked at her deadly seriously. He put his hand out, seeking hers. They were alone in his office at Tac, and it was late. They sat on the floor, their backs against the leather sofa and their legs outstretched. Benny has shed his jacket, waistcoat and tie. He’d undone the top two buttons of his shirt and rolled his sleeves up, taking the time to relax after a long and stressful day.

Lilly took a sip of the expensive scotch he had poured her, not wanting to look at him in that moment. She’d loved Benny since the moment she met him, the day Bull had introduced her to the team as his new PA and his gorgeous dark eyes had locked with hers. Over the last two years they had grown closer and closer, helping each other through tough family times and break ups and celebrating successes and events. There had been a few close moments where they’d nearly become more than friends, where they’d nearly kissed, and Lilly had wished desperately that they had.

“Come with me. Please?” He scooted closer and took her hand giving it a little squeeze. “Plus you’ve never lived until you’ve had my grandmother’s pasteles.” His eyes lit up like a child and his stomach unconsciously rumbled.

“The way to your heart really is through your stomach isn’t it?” She laughed, and he shrugged with a contented look on his face.

“What can I say? I love as woman who can cook.” He started ticking them off on his fingers, “My Gramma, My mother, My aunt Louise, hell, even you aren’t too bad?”

She reeled back and looked at him with a mock shocked face, her hand on her heart, “Not bad? Remember that triple chocolate and caramel lava cake I made you for your birthday last year?”

He closed his eyes dreamily, and grinned, showing off his perfect white teeth and dimples, “Ohhh yeah, that was good, you’re lucky I didn’t propose to you, right there on the spot.”

Lilly felt a heat rush over her body and burn up her cheeks. She felt hot on the inside. Biting her lip, she gazed into the amber liquid in her glass, “Mmm, it is a pity, What would you have done if I’d said yes?”

He took a long, steady sip from his glass, looking at her over the rim with intensity deep in his eyes.

“I’d have been happy.”

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we are sorry to announce a delay on American Airlines flight DA4461 to Dallas due to weather conditions. The flight will now depart at 20:30. Thank you.”

Lilly rolled her eyes and leaned on the handle of her carry on bag. Benny shrugged at her, the soft suede of his jacket stretching over his arm muscles as he did do.

How does he even look this good on flights? I look like I’ve just rolled out of a hedge somewhere. He looked impeccable as ever, tight jeans and a form fitting dark blue polo shirt.

“Looks like we’ll have to wait a while, wont we?” he got himself settled in a seat, and patted the empty spot next to him, encouraging her to sit down.

She yawned and plonked herself down on the uncomfortable leather chair.

“I wish I’d have known, I could have taken that nap.” Lilly sighed wistfully, she hadn’t slept well the night before – Bull had her fielding phone calls until 5 am.

“Come here” he lifted his arm up and tapped his chest, encouraging her to lay her head on him. She welcomed the gesture, breathing in his unique scent – cinnamon, leather and something spicy she couldn’t put her finger on. “We’ve got hours to go, try and get some sleep.” He wrapped his arm around her back and traced soothing patterns on her bare arms with his finger tips.

“I can’t sleep here. There are other people around.” But the steady beat of his heart and the warmth of his body, were already comfortably lulling her, and her eye lids drooped.

“Ignore everyone else, it’s just you and me.” The last thing Lilly felt as sleep took over was Benny placing a kiss into her hair, and she smiled. She wished it was. Just him and her.

Lilly must have dozed for an hour or so before she began to stir. Her head was still cradled in the crook of Benny’s neck and he was still holding onto her tightly, she blearily tried opening her eyes the whole way, but shut them again, unappreciative of the naked airport lights.

She was acutely aware that Benny was humming contentedly, the action giving his body a pleasurable vibration. He was staring at his phone. As Lilly’s eyes slowly came into focus, she realised what he was looking at.

There, on his home screen was a photo of them, on his birthday last year. They were both laughing into the camera, with chocolate cake smeared across their faces. He has swiped a finger full of frosting from the cake and dolloped it onto her nose. They both looked so happy.

She grinned to herself. “Am I your lock screen?” She asked him, voice still loaded with sleep.

“Uh …” He looked down at her coyly, his cheeks tinging a little pink “Yes, but you weren’t supposed to see that.”

“We look happy.” She sat up straighter, so they were on the same level again, but she kept herself clutched tightly at his side.

He swallowed audibly, his eyes switching between her mouth and her eyes. The tension between them was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

“I’m always happy when I’m with you.” He breathed lowly, his voice inaudible to anyone but her.

She felt the familiar heat and butterflies of being happy with him bubbling up in her belly as she looked at him. They were so close their noses were almost touching, their breath mingling on eachother’s cheeks.

“You make me happy too.” She reached a hand up to his jaw line and stroked her fingers over his flawless olive skin.

Benny seemed to pause for a beat, his dark chocolate eyes looked like they were hiding a raging inner battle, and then he leaned forward, softly placing his lips on hers. She smiled into the kiss, and worked her hand from his face into his hair, deepening their contact.

He pulled away and rested his forehead against hers as they both caught their breath.

“Here’s to being happy.”

Hope you like @reelovesbennycolon

#benny colon x reader #benny colon x oc #benny colon #bennycolonxreader #bull2016 #jason bull #benny colon imagines #freddy rodriguez

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prueackerman · 4 years

Text

Where: Stefanos Estate Who: Prue Ackerman, @julianstefanos @juliet-stefanos Notes: Prue is officially introduced as Julian’s girlfriend and Juliet has some questions (and tests).

Prue To say that Prue was nervous would be an understatement. No matter how many times Julian tried to assure her otherwise, Prue knew that Juliet Stefanos didn’t approve of her and just outright didn’t like her. And while part of her just wanted to ask why, she knew better than that. She wouldn’t question the woman’s opinions….instead she’d just try her best to change them. She loved Julian. Julian was the person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with..so if that meant dealing with his mother, then so be it. Coming out from her closet, Prue tucked some hair behind her ears, heels dangling in her fingers as she smoothed her hand over her blouse and then looked up at Julian, sitting on the edge of her bed waiting for her. “Does this look..presentable?”

Julian Admittedly, introducing his girlfriend to his mother was a big deal. Julian had never done it before so he was actually quite nervous. His mother was a perfectionist and very quick to criticize or judge. She was never harsh on Julian and he had gotten used to her little loving jabs here and there, but Prue was much softer than he was and he knew that, while his mother would be civil, it was a far cry from polite. So despite feeling nervous himself, he pushed it deep down and smiled for his girlfriend’s sake, acting like everything was completely fine. “You know you’d look perfect in anything, right?” he teased. He got off the bed and took her hand, placing a small kiss on the back of it. “But yes, you look like the angelic girl every mother wants her son to bring home.” He squeezed her hand, a smile still on his face. “Are you ready?”

Prue "You're biased, My Lord." Prue replied, smiling softly up at him as he stood and took her hand, kissing it gently in a way that always made her heart flutter. God, how she loved him. When he squeezed her hand she let out a breath, putting her shoes down so she could slide them on, gaining a couple more inches and pretty much eye level with him now. She squeezed his hand back, moving closer to press her forehead against his. "Yeah. I just...really want this to go well." she closed her eyes, hesitating a moment before continuing, "I don't want to not be with you."

Julian “And it will go well.” Though even he had trouble believing it. His mother was unpredictable sometimes and Julian had never done this before. Every other girl his mother met were usually caught leaving his house. “And even if it doesn’t, that won’t change the way I feel about you.” He turned to face her and cupped her cheeks, pulling their foreheads together. “I love you, Prudence Olivia Ackerman. Nothing is going to change that,” he promised. Any trace of nervousness suddenly faded away. He was right. Nothing would change even if this didn’t go well. As long as Prue still loved him, there were no worst case scenarios. His hand slid back down to take hers. “Now let’s not keep my mother waiting.”

Prue Prue hummed, not fully believing him, but...there was not much else she could do besides have hope, so she just nodded. "You must be serious if you full named me." She teased softly, eyes still closed as he held her face and she leaned in, kissing him softly. "I love you too." And if his mother couldn't accept that-- them-- well...they'd cross that bridge when they got there. When his hand moved to hers she laced their fingers together and gave his hand a squeeze, nodding at him, "Let's go."

Julian The ride between their homes wasn’t long enough and in no time, they were stepping into the Stefanos mansion. Instead of going right to his room, they headed to the dining room. His hand tightened around Prue’s the closer they got but when he spotted his mother, most of his nerves dissipated. At the end of the day, this woman was his mother and no matter how serious and scary she was to everyone else, she was still the same woman who taught him most of what he knew and supported him all his life. He dropped Prue’s hand, but only so that he could properly hug his mother. “Hey, mom,” he greeted, giving her a little peck against the cheek. He stepped away and gestured for Prue to approach. “You’ve already met her but, as you’ve requested, I’m personally introducing her. Mother, this is Prudence Ackerman, my girlfriend.”

Juliet Juliet was expecting her son and someone else to join them for dinner, she didn't exactly pay attention on who it was as she requested if he was bringing a girl over for her to meet it better be serious since he knew better than to waste her time. Juliet was perfect as always, black dress perfect fit a little above her knees, not a wrinkle on it, black high heels shoes, red lipstick, a pear necklace emoldurating her neck perfectly as she waited for her son that knew better than to arrive late knowing how much she liked being pontual and would blame on his new girlfriend if he was a second late. When they finally arrived Juliet made her way toward her son, happily hugging him before letting it go and looking at the girl he as introducing, looking at the girl. "Are you sure?" She asked not exactly remembering metting the girl before, but that wasn't important. Juliet offered her hand for the other to shake. "So she's the reason you forgot my birthday this year?" She said politely with a smile, like what she said wasn't supposed to bother them at all. "It’s lovely to finally meet you officially."

Prue Over and over, Prue reminded herself to relax. She wasn't going to lose Julian- they'd be fine. But as they pulled up to the Stefanos home, her heart raced. She held his hand as they walked up and inside, smiling sweetly to the few humans they'd passed until they were inside. Prue let go of him so he could go to his mother and she quietly watched the interaction, trying to let her nerves not get the best of her still-- especially once the focus was on her. She moved up when Julian beckoned her forward and she smiled politely at her, absolutely ignoring the birthday comment. She just gave a glance Julian's way before taking the woman's hand and shaking it, smiling still, "It's nice to officially meet you as well, my lady. I'm glad we're finally all able to do this together."

Julian Julian’s eyes widened at the mention of his mother’s birthday. “In my defense, I forgot my own birthday....” His was around the time he met Prue so he definitely couldn’t care less about something that happened over three hundred times. Birthdays seemed so pointless when it came to vampires like them. Years were a blur. He wrapped his arm around Prue’s waist, hoping the secure contact would make her feel better. His mom was polite so far and he hoped she didn’t aim to make this experience a negative one. “Why don’t we all sit down?” he suggested, offering his mother to sit first. “How was your day?”

Juliet Juliet was trying her best to be polite at Julian request of course, otherwise all it would need for her was one look at Prue to say no and just leave, she looked at the girl up and down, there were so many mistakes for her to point out, her clothes, her hair, the jewelry or the lack of it, no gift for the host and calling her lady instead of duchess, her smile turned into a look of disapprove and all she could do was shake her head as she looked at the girl, gosh was Julian punishing her for something? When Julian spoke she focused on him again and the smile returned to her face, she sat at the sofa and gesture for them to sit in front of her, this was going to be a long night. "It was lovely so far, I spoke with your father, he apologized for not being able to make it for this encounter, but I will keep him informed." She said trying her best to keep her eyes on Julian instead of the mess next to him. "How about you two? It must have been a very busy day since you didn't even had time to dress properly." She said glad when one of the slaves that worked at the house brought a glass for her with red whine and fresh blood, she was not going to make it without some help. "What would you two like to drink?" She asked as the slave waited to hear their orders.

Prue Julian's arm wrapping around her helped, but she felt Juliet's eyes on her like daggers, looking her up and down, practically critiquing every bit of her and it took all of Prue's will power to not fidget. She saw the head shake and she bit the inside of her lip, hating that she felt like she was already failing and the night hadn't even begun. She followed their lead and walked over to sit in front of the duchess, and as her appearance was mocked again she looked to Julian but again didn't say a word. She wasn't going to stoop down to the level of thinly-veiled insults. "I'll have whatever you're having." She told Julian, giving him a little smile.

Julian “Mother...” Julian warned. The jab was unnecessary and they all knew it; Prudence was dressed impeccably, much more so than he was. He slipped his hand into Prue’s, giving it a little squeeze in reassurance. His grip faltered a bit when she asked about what they would have to drink, knowing his mother was a purist about it all. Before he could answer, Prue had beat her too it and his eyes widened. He had never seen his girlfriend drink from anything but a bag and wasn’t sure if she would be comfortable otherwise. Still... Julian sighed and answered his mother’s other question. “Our day was good. Lady Prudence and I went to a museum,” he answered, reminding her that Prue was a noble. If she wasn’t going to be polite because Prue was his girlfriend, she could at least respect that Prue wasn’t just anyone. She was the daughter of a powerful and trusted Baron.

Juliet Juliet couldn't help herself, no one would never be good enough to be with her son but she was truly trying at Julian request. "Lovely, I hope you two had fun at the museum, i never manage to drag your father into something like that." She said trying to do better but already tired of the small talk. Taking a sip from her wine before talking again. "You can take Julian drink to the office." She said to the slave that was still waiting to know what he was supposed to get. "I would like a moment alone with your girlfriend and i have some work I would like you to do so we can solve two things at once." Juliet said waiting for Julian waiting for him to stand up so she could continue the conversation with the girl alone. "You can join again for dinner."

Prue Prue wasn’t going to be intimidated again. Not when it centered around Julian. She’d do whatever she had to- no matter how ridiculous the woman was being about her fully grown son. “We did. It was quite lovely. I hope you and the Duke get to go sometime soon.” She wasn’t going to be intimidated—but it was hard when she heard the next bit. Juliet wanted to be alone with her again. She swallowed, licking over her lips and as Julian’s hand tightened on hers, she squeezed back and nodded, turning to look at him. “Go ahead. I’m sure if she has some work for you at this time it must be quite important.” She told him with a little smile, her gaze lingering on his, silently speaking to him. I’ll be okay.

Julian Julian was not at all comfortable leaving Prudence alone in the room with his mother, but he also knew that it was bound to happen eventually and he couldn’t moderate forever. He looked down at Prue when she spoke, her smile reassuring him. Prudence was so sweet that Julian often forgot she was very much capable of handling herself. It was a choice to be gentle despite the power they carried, after all. “I’ll be right back then.” He stood up and leaned down to give Prue another kiss before leaving the room. Part of him wanted to stand by the door and listen in but he wouldn’t be able to get away with it so he reluctantly went to the office.

Juliet Juliet smiled as Julian stood and left, sure she could has asked for him to work another time but the entire point of Prudence being there was for her to walk with her, a serious conversation since he decided to bring her there, Juliet took another sip from her drink as she waited for him to get further so he wouldn't listen. "Perfect, now that is just us girl we can have a real conversation." She said with a smile at Prue. "Julian is going to be the next duke, all of this will all be his one day, I would like to know how you will fit in this?" She asked right away, her family had a reputation for being soft, if she allowed this marriage to happen what would come next? All her slaves would be free and her name would be a joke or did she had what it took to be the next her?

Prue Prue nodded at him, smiling into it as he kissed her and she held his hand for a long moment more before letting go and she rested her hands in her lap- ready as she'd ever be to be interrogated. The question was one she expected and she let out a breath, tipping her head up. While her father may not be a Duke as well, she still came from nobility and knew all the things that came with it. "I'll fit in however I'm needed to." she told her with a nod. "My father is not only a Baron, but he's been the Commissioner of the Blood Knights for decades. It's something I've grown up around, so I'm all too familiar with making hard decisions that are necessary for the greater good...even ones I may not be in agreement with. Some situations require....unbiasedness." All that was missing was a spotlight on her with the way she was being stared down and she let out another breath, keeping her gaze on the other woman. "My mother also passed away when I was a child, so since I was young I not only raised my little sister, but I took on all the responsibilities of a Baroness. You'd have to ask my father on his explicit opinions, but I like to think I've done well and made him proud."

Juliet Juliet kept her eyes on her, just because the girl was saying she could take hard decisions without agreeing with it she would like to see if that was true or if she was just saying what she thought she wanted to hear. "We will see..." She was pretty sure that testing that wouldn't be hard As she spoke about raising her sister Juliet seemed upset. "Right, the one that loves wolves..." She took a deep breath, that only raised more problems, she would not want her grandchildren stinking of wolf. "Do you plan on raising my grandchildren wolf friendly?" She asked. "Since we're in the subject how many sexual partners you have?"

Prue Prue didn’t respond to the comment- she didn’t feel a need to. She was a patient woman, forgiving and understanding, so in a way she understood Juliet’s interrogation: Julian was her only child after all. But...still. He wasn’t a child, and her overbearing-ness was a little concerning. It was when Juliet rose a brow and spoke down about her sister though that Prue felt herself tensing up just a bit, her fingers tightening around themselves in her lap. “I plan on raising my children with dignity and respect and to not outright judge anyone with any preconceived notions. There’s enough fighting and anger in this world and I don’t plan on adding to it senselessly.” She remained calm as she spoke, voice soft. Unlike the duchess, she didn’t sigh or make any facial tells of how upset she was getting. “May I ask why you’d like to know?” It was no secret that they were biologically as a species all having higher sex drives, so it didn’t seem like a reasonable question to ask—but then, none of this was reasonable.

Juliet "Cute." It was the only thing Juliet answered trying to be polite as Julian request. When she asked why she wanted to now how many sexual partners she had Juliet took another sip from her wine, she didn't thought she needed to explain her questions but so be it. "That's simple my dear, i would like to know if you get pregnant how easy it would be to determinate the father." if she was screwing another nobleman Juliet wouldn't take any baby as part of her family. Before she could ask another question one slave was brought into the living room with his hand tied on his back and placed on his knees between the two of them. "You told me you can take hard decisions when necessary, so let's see. You can me for the next 5 minutes." she said. "This slave was found stealing, what would you consider a proper punishment?"

Prue Prue’s lips pursed just a little bit, knowing that no matter how she answered this, she’d be judged negatively. But at least this time it was a topic she was used to being judged on. “There were three others in my life before him. And the last one was years ago.” As she said it she just mentally prepared herself to somehow be insulted on it as well, just like she always had been. Her gaze shot over when the door opened, half hoping it’d be Julian...but instead it was a slave. One tied up. Prue’s heart nearly lodged in her throat. She stayed quiet as Juliet spoke, seeing the man on the floor shaking, the terror coming off him in waves. Prue swallowed hard, clearly hesitating. But she had to do this..otherwise she’d lose the best thing to ever happen to her. She tried to ignore the pit in her stomach as she let out a breath and looked up to Juliet. You’re doing this for him. “If he stole...make sure it won’t happen again. Punish his hands for instance. And..depending on what it was, like maybe food.....have him watch the other humans eat their meals and..he goes without.” She shifted on the spot a bit. “Change is possible and people can learn not to do things again. It’s...easier than just eliminating all together and having to start all over with..someone new.”

Juliet "Good." Juliet answered, her only concern was knowing if she got pregnant if the baby would belong to Julian, the rest of their arrangement, if they were trying to be monogamous, if Julian was free to have sex with however he wanted while she only had sex with him didn't matter to her since she wouldn't have to recognize any bastard. It was obvious that the girl was not used with this situation and more than a little uncomfortable, if Julian haven't told her to play nice she would make the girl carry the punishment, break on of his hands and even cut it off, Julian better thank her properly for her efforts later. "Fair." She said. "What would you suggest if i said he was part of the rebellion as well?" She asked.

Prue Prue was actually surprised when a comment wasn't made about her sex life (or lack thereof) but she actually would've preferred it against what Juliet was actually asking of her. The rebellion. While Prue..understood it, she couldn't deny that she wished it'd stop. For the humans' sake if nothing else. But then...the rebellion was also responsible for the poison outbreak months ago. Responsible for her almost losing her sister--for her sister almost killing her. But the rebels behind the poisoning, both human and vampire, had all been taken out already by the queen herself. So this boy wasn't responsible. Prue wasn't going to punish one for the actions of another. But this wasn't about the poisoning or anything like that. "If he were part of the rebellion....I think our king and queen would like to know and prefer to be the ones in charge of whatever punishment they see fit." Her stomach twisted more at the thought, feeling like she was pretty much handing out a death sentence. "So I...I'd deal with the personal matter of stealing from me..and then take it to the higher court, so to speak. The rebellion isn't just a slight against me...it's against all of us."

Juliet "I wouldn't go straight to the Queen, they are busy people we shouldn't bother them unless is extremely necessary, don't you agree?" She said, if Prue would marry her son and take her place this would have to be something she would have to learn. "We have the blood knights for those cases, they would question him and try to get more information from him before giving it to the Queen for her to do whatever she wants."Juliet suggested, normally slaves didn't last very long with the Queen so it was best to question them first just in case. "Now don't tell me darling, give the order yourself." She said, Prue was free to ignore her suggestion and send the slave to the queen if she wanted.

Prue She had a point. Prue knew first hand that the blood knights were the first in line to deal with potential rebels. So when the situation was flipped back onto her Prue tipped her head up a bit, glancing from the human to back to Juliet. “You merely suggested a what-if if he were a rebel....why would I waste the knight’s time unless you had concrete proof?” She questioned softly, tilting her head a bit. “The...slave, is here because you have outright proof he’s stolen, so punish him for that....whether it’s the way I suggested, or..however you see fit. This is your home after all, duchess. I’m just a guest.”

Juliet "The point is my dear, you're not just a guest." She told Prue. "I know that you're here because Julian sees a future with you and as I told you in our previous conversation." Not that she exactly remember much about what she said to her. "You will become relevant to me when Julian introduce you to me himself, well this is it. If you want a future with him you will have a part to play in this family, my part. So give the order and prove to me you're at least capable of doing a small part of my job and I can have some hope this might work or don't and we're done for today."

Prue Prue's jaw ticked a bit, conflict in her gaze but...anger too. Anger that she was being backed into a corner like this. It's for Julian she kept telling herself, repeating it over and over in her head like a mantra. She ignored the lump forming in her throat and cleared her throat a bit, again tipping her head up to meet the duchess' gaze. "Punish him for stealing first. Focusing on his hands. Once done, send him off to the blood knights, let them do their interrogations. And...if they find he is guilty of being in the rebellion, then the knights can decide if they want to deal with him themselves or let the queen."

Juliet "Great." She said after the other finally gave the other, what she really wanted to say was, was that so hard? But knowing very well how she would tell Julian everything about this meeting she decided not to, Juliet finished her drink. "Is almost dinner time Julian must be joining us soon so i guess our little private section is over." Unfortunately it wasn't like she could keep Julian away for much longer even having many more questions for her before actually approving this. "I would love for you to stop by more often, maybe once a week so I could teach you my work."

Prue Prue still looked more than a little uncomfortable. She kind of just wanted to go home, never see the woman again. Instead when Juliet spoke Prue gave her a polite smile and nodded, “Maybe. I’ll have to see when our schedules will both allow it.” She murmured as slaves went off to get Julian. @Julian

Julian Julian really got nothing accomplished when he was upstairs, more concerned about what was going on downstairs. The few minutes seem to go by like hours and he fidgeted the entire time. When he finally heard footsteps coming upstairs, he didn’t even wait for the slave to reach his room to come out of it, marching right down the stairs and back into the dining room. When he returned, it was clear that things were rather tense. Prue looked uncomfortable and his mother looked... neutral. She wasn’t really impressed nor disgusted so Julian took that as a win. It was hard to impress his mother and would take much more time to earn even a modicum of respect from her. He slid back into his seat and took Prue’s hand again, giving it a squeeze and meeting her eyes, looking for some sort of reassurance she was okay.

Juliet Honestly her invitation was nothing more than another test, if the girl was truly interested in being a part of this family she would have to learn the work just like Julian did, she couldn't help but wonder if she would hear from the girl again, it would certainly be a surprised if she decided to appear next week without Julian willing to spend time with her. "Did you even look at the work i left you?" Juliet asked teasing her son, he could finish that any time after all. Just in time when Julian joined them another slave appeared saying the dinner was serve. She stood up first and waited for the couple to walk toward the dinner area for them to eat

Prue Prue felt relief come over her like a wave when she saw Julian. He was worth all this- he was. She just had to wonder if he thought the same. That if it came down to it...if he'd pick her side over that of his mother's. But just as quickly as that thought came, she banished it. She didn't want to come between them, didn't want him to have to choose. She just hoped that one day, things would be easy. Julian was next to her a moment later and while she only glanced at him, when his hand took hers she squeezed it tight as they stood to walk over together, little nail indents still on her palm from how hard she'd balled her fingers into a fist while her hands had rested in her lap.

Julian Julian answered his mother honestly and shook his head. "I couldn't focus knowing that the two most important women in my life were downstairs conspiring against me," he joked, hoping to lighten up the mood--at least for his mother. He gently brushed his thumb over the back of Prue's palm, reassuring her that the hardest part was probably done with. He was here now and he would step in if things got too far. Nevertheless, he had to give his mother the benefit of the doubt since she had been polite thus far. Prudence was tense, but she didn't seem as upset as she was the last time so Julian considered that progress. "But I promise I will get the work done tomorrow."

Juliet "i know you will." Juliet said to Julian, she trusted he was capable of finishing everything on time even without working one day. As they arrived at the dinner table there was a line of slaves waiting, each with a blood type waiting to be used as food. Juliet took a sit and waited for them to choose.

Prue Naively, Prue held out hope that there'd be actual food, but when they sat down and the only 'meal' there was a line up of humans, Prue froze. She hadn't in pretty much the entirety of her life ever drank directly from a person. But then, she hadn't ever really punished someone either. And even if it was indirectly, Duchess Stefanos already made her do that too. She wondered just how many other hoops she'd have to jump through. Wondered if even then, it'd be enough. With a soft, quiet little sigh, Prue looked down for just a quick moment before blinking back up, "A Negative. Please."

Julian Julian immediately noticed the change in Prue’s demeanour when they entered the dining room and there were a line of slaves waiting for them. He knew she didn’t drink from people directly but it wouldn’t be too bad, would it? They were vampires and feeding used to be a lot messier. “AB positive for me,” he answered as he sat down. The slaves approached as ordered and Julian quickly grabbed a wrist, hoping to establish that he didn’t intend on feeding from the neck. That was more dangerous and he doubted Prue wanted to put any of the slaves in danger.

Juliet Juliet knew about the Ackerman and how nice they were, almost being vegan, she did had a few bags of blood on her fridge just in case the girl asked for it, that was something she would never have at her house but again, trying to be polite for Julian. Since the girl didn't asked she also didn't offered. She ordered 0 negative for herself also feeding from the wrist since it was easier and she didn't wanted to ruin her dress

Prue Prue didn't know what to do and she felt torn. She wanted to stick to her morals and her beliefs.....but she didn't want to do anything that could ruin her chances of being with Julian. Juliet already didn't like her, knew she saw her as weak....for all Prue knew, Juliet could try and force an engagement on Julian tomorrow, force her decision that he and Prue would never be together again. But as the slave came over to her, Prue could see how uncomfortable the poor boy was and she shook her head, gently nudging the slave's arm away when he rose his wrist up to her. "Sorry, I..--no thank you." She hid her nervousness as she looked over at the duchess across the table, keeping her eyes on her, "I prefer to eat from bags, your grace."

Julian Julian didn't really know how to react in this situation. "I'll go get some," he quickly interjected, not giving his mother a chance to object to Prue's request. He didn't want Prue's feeding choices to be a big deal. He disappeared to the kitchen to handle it himself, waving the slave off.

Juliet Juliet was already expecting that from the girl, honestly she couldn't care less about the other meal preference, that didn't interfere with capability of her doing a good job, as long as she didn't starve, that could be bad if she got pregnant. "You know we have staff for that." She said when julian almost ran to the kitchen, if she cared that much about it she wouldn't have got the damn bag in the first place.

Prue Prue was more than a little surprised when Julian jumped up and rushed to get it, watching him rush out of the room and towards the kitchens and Prue bit her lip, trying not to fidget too much at being alone again with her. Thankfully Julian was back within seconds and Prue smiled warmly at him, reaching for his hand and giving it a little squeeze, glad that he was accommodating her and helping to make her feel comfortable. “Thank you.”

#para #para: all #para: julian #para: juliet #discord #it's like 95% done! so yeah

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inspirationdivine · 4 years

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A Debt Unpaid || Orobas and Lydia

TIMING: Now PARTIES: @eldonash SUMMARY: Orobas shows up by Lydia’s home, Lydia learns where her new car came from, and the tables turn. WARNINGS: Very brief reference to animal cruelty.

Orobas sat on the hood of a beautiful car, fingers dipped red and brought to his mouth to suck on. The night was calm and cool, but the creature sitting calmly in it’s dark presence didn’t seem to be worried about the time. Confident even, that they would have conversation at some point. The woman stumbling down the street made Orobas chuckle, her one shoe was missing like that Cinderella story. He’d have to find it at some point he supposes. He leaned all the way back, up against the glass and crossed his leg over his knee. Glancing up to the stars blurred out by wispy clouds, and light pollution.

Lydia had a bar to get to, and she was just texting on the phone, in high black heels and a shimmering rose gold dress. She’d traded the tiny gold cross she’d kept in her purse for a larger cross statement necklace, that fit a double function. She was just about to call the rideshare car when she reached her drive, and froze. It was him. Lying on the hood of the convertible, sucking at his fingers and with his knees up. For a split moment, she thought of how beautiful the scene was. Then she filled with rage, her blood pounding in her ears as she sneered at him. She pulled her pistol and aiming it at him. “Hoping to hear me scream again? You aren’t welcome here, vampire.”

Orobas’ eyes danced over towards hers with a laziness. Lingering on the pistol only a moment, and longer on the statement piece on her neck. Disgusting. His thumb pressed against his fang, sitting up to stretch his leg out and rest his elbow on his raised knee. Just seeing her so close, hearing her voice made a dark slither of madness crawl in the back of his mind. “You look lovely, I wouldn’t mess up your dress--” he said with an easy smile that didn’t fit with the confrontation. “I’m not? Where are you going?”

“I always look good, but you didn’t seem to care last time,” Lydia replied, her tone remarkably steady for the tremble in her legs. She swallowed, eyes flaring. Last time they’d met, she’d had wings and glowing skin. Now Lydia was dressed in a full human glamour, and somehow felt more bare. He knew where she lived. He knew she lived here. It was twenty feet to the threshold of her home. If he lunged, and she fired… she’d make it. Probably. Lydia took a couple steps back. Not that he would. “Nowhere, while you’re here. Get off my property.”

“Care? That’s not the appropriate word--” Orobas’ body was still, not a twitch of muscle, or flutter of lids in need to blink, the only movement the screech of a nail to his right fang as he looked at her. He noticed her movement, and could tell she was calculating everything. There was enough space, at least, he felt confident in it, but that wasn’t why he was here right? Orobas actually didn’t know why he was here exactly. Maybe to taunt her? Just wanted to see her? Get her scent again-- hear her voice. “Did you not like your gift? You complained so loudly at me before. Have you driven it?”

Lydia paused, staring at him lightly in confusion. Then, as realisation sank in, a giggle escaped her lips. A giggle that grew and bubbled into mirthful laughter. She stood taller, more confident, now that she knew it had worked. “No, I hadn’t. Oh, I had so hoped that it would hurt you. It’s rather a pity that it didn’t work out like that, but it doesn’t make much difference now. Do you even know why you bought me the car?” She snarled, smirking. Whether he could feel the ties that bound them together. “Not that it’s enough, not yet.”

Orobas smirk grew, and he slid forward on the hood, landing gently on the driveway. Dressed impeccably in a custom navy suit, he took a moment to button his jacket once more, and correct his sleeves. He had the slightest inkling what she was alluding to, but Orobas was a creature who didn’t mind the long hunt, and when it came to Lydia-- mhm, he didn’t mind letting her have a bit of fun, a little control. “I didn’t buy you a car,” he chuckled. “I gave you a car. Did you think she was pretty? Was she still crying? Did it make your chest flutter in annoyance?” Orobas tucked his arms by his sides, fingers of his right hand comforted with his dagger. “I don’t know what’s going on--” He lied, “but what would make it enough?”

“Ah, yes, you compelled someone, which means it was even less work on your behalf,” Lydia replied, not replying to the rest of it. Like hell was she indulging him again. He stood up, taller than her once again. “You must be quite old to be able to do that. Even worse to have made so embarassing a mistake.“ It irked her, that he was still chuckling and smiling. But his words rang in her ears, loud and clear as the fae magic between them. “I’ll make it worth your while for some help.” She quoted him back at his face. I’ll hold you to that, Lydia had replied, tying a bond between them that had only grown as the night had progressed. “I have to say, trying to kill me comes with an incredibly hefty debt. You have a long way to go yet.”

“Still has worth to you,” Orobas chuckled again, lowering his eyes to the ground and had to reel himself in as a swell of something bad swelled in his chest. His mind clouded, and when he glanced up his eyes were bleeding red. “I see. You are enjoying this.” His fangs worried against his lip and he took a step forward, and another. Cocking his head lightly. “Is that why I killed that dog? Such petty things you wish for. Why not ask me to do something that has always been on your mind, mhmm? Are you scared of what that might be? Mess up-- and I kill someone you actually didn’t want to die?”

“Does it? I haven’t used it yet, have I?” Lydia replied. Her smile faltered when he looked back up, his eyes red. Lydia breathed deeply, her eyes steady on him. “Mmm. Of course I am.” She stood her ground as he walked closer. “That would be fun for you, wouldn’t it? If I theoretically asked you to kill someone instead. I’m no vampire, darling, blood and horror has never been my wheelhouse. I’d prefer you to pluck a hundred dandelions with your own hand and craft them into a garland than did anything you might enjoy. Do you really think I’m so incapable of handling my own dirty work?”

“Fun? Mhmm, is killing someone fun for me?” Orobas pretended to ponder, “is it for you?” His inquiry seemed knowing in some degree, poking his cheek almost playfully against such a monsterous face. The dagger in his hand glistened in the limited light. “No actually,” he admitted, and the truth of it was recognized even with the anger of the situation he got himself in made everything red. “I do not think you are incapable, just as you don’t suspect my threats to mean anything but truth. I have eternity, eventually, darlin’, you will wake up and a quota will be filled. I do believe that makes this awkward, no? Shame really. I actually quite like you. I hope nothing bad happens.”

“I don’t kill people, just humans,” Lydia retorted harshly, glaring at him. “You and I are not the same.” The pistol in her hand had descended slightly as they’d been talking, but with the reminder of the blade in his hand she raised it up again, aiming at his chest. If her heart beat any faster, it might break her chest. “Perhaps it will. In the meantime, pet, I can make your sad unlife utterly miserable.” Her eyes flashed. “Keep your threats to yourself.”

“Exactly. Just humans,” the three words came with the faintest edge to it, as if agreed so entirely that such creatures were beneath them. Orobas knew suddenly why he liked her. Not because she painted the ideal face of who he enjoyed killing the most, but because there was a ruthlessness in her tone, hidden under pretty glamours, and the Fae, they were always tricky. He was in bed with one to understand it could get complicated, but Orobas was dead. He was immortal. He didn’t feel things like guilt or fear easily, and he didn’t take kindly to people wanting to threaten him. But ever still, he was patient. He’d see this through. “Do your worse, Lydia,” his grin twitched, and his skin seemed to gray further, the edge of his cheeks sharper as the flesh hung almost limp over the bone. He laughed, and it rolled out, something sinister, and crooked in nature. “I’ll be listening.” With those two words he was gone from sight.

#wickedswriting #para #chatzy #orobas #animal cruelty tw #v brief mention

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stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 4 years

Text

with you [chapter two]

Summary: Clementine pops the question, Louis has nightmares, Violet can’t let go of the past, Mitch doesn’t know how to handle gross feelings, Ruby’s a goddamn sweetheart, Willy doesn’t ever remember to knock, Aasim can’t dance, and James is here, too.

Nothing like a wedding to bring this family together.

Note: I was planning on posting this on Monday or Tuesday, but given recent events in my life, I’m posting it now before I leave. I hope you enjoy it and thank you for your constant support. ❤️

Ch1 | Ch2

Read on: AO3 | FF.net | Wattpad

---

When the sun’s rays begin to bleed out over the school, Clementine’s up and determined to find James.

AJ’s already up, walking around on patrol or helping Omar with breakfast, she assumes.

Just as she’s finishing up the laces of her boots, warmth runs across her back. With most of his face sunken into the pillow, Louis watches her through groggy, lidded eyes as his hand slips over her shoulder, down her arm, and grabs her wrist.

“Come back to bed, Darling.”

Brushing a dread away from his face, she grins.

“Can’t,” she says softly. “I’m going out to find James.”

“Hmm,” he sighs. “Be careful.”

“Always.”

She leans over to press a light kiss on his cheek, pulling the blankets back over his shoulders. “Go back to sleep.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, eyes drooping shut as he snuggles closer into his pillows, curling in on himself.

She leaves him in bed, figuring that he’ll sleep in another couple of hours, long enough for her to find James and ask him for help.

The outside air nips at her skin uncomfortably, yet another sign of fall’s ever-looming presence this time of year- chilly in the morning, sunny and agreeable during the day, chilly at night.

Soon, it’ll be cold every moment, night and day.

Omar’s cutting up fresh rabbit meat while AJ sturs the boiling stew with impeccable concentration. Mitch and Willy occupy one of the tables, tinkering with a broken flashlight.

“You’re sure you put the batteries in right?” Willy asks, leaning over Mitch’s workspace. “Maybe they’re backward.”

“They’re not,” Mitch scoffs, beating the light against his palm. “I know how batteries work.”

“Yeah, but sometimes you don’t look-”

“They’re not backward.”

Willy holds up his hands in mock surrender, backing away and biting his lip to suppress laughter from Mitch’s grumbles.

Omar watches the boys, giving a usual roll of his eyes before depositing the rest of the rabbit into the stew, patting AJ’s shoulder.

“Not too fast,” he says, and AJ slows down, going at a more even pace in his stirring.

“Smells good,” Clementine says, inhaling the ever-growing scent of breakfast as she approaches. “You showing Omar how it’s done?”

“Yep,” AJ grins. “He’s a pretty fast learner.”

“Taught me everything I know,” Omar plays along with a shake of his head and another roll of his eyes. “Now, which spices do we use, master chef?”

While they’re figuring out what to season the stew with, Clementine decides she doesn’t have much time for breakfast. The morning has left her with a nervous stomach, one that shouldn’t be tampered with lest she becomes sick.

“I’m heading out to find James,” she announces. “I haven’t seen him around and I want to make sure he’s okay out there.”

Mitch perks up, all attention on the flashlight now shifted to Clementine. He pushes back from the table and approaches her, asking, “You taking someone with you?”

“No, I’ll be fine alone.”

“No,” AJ immediately protests, “you never go alone! That’s the number one rule.”

“Little dude’s right,” Mitch nods with an annoyed scowl, crossing his arms over his chest, but before he can say anything else, Clementine whistles.

Rosie comes running from her spot on the stairs, barking and wagging her tail gleefully.

“Fine, I can take Rosie,” she says. “She could use a walk.”

Mitch looks as though he wants to protest, but only sighs.

AJ’s settled by the idea, telling Rosie, “You keep her safe, okay?”

Rosie barks.

“Good girl!”

“Why does he even stay out there?” Mitch asks. “Hell, how does he sleep? You doze off and a walker’ll chew your face off.”

“Maybe he sleeps with the walkers,” adds Willy. “Walker sleepovers.”

“With party games,” Clementine adds.

Willy gets a mischievous smirk, wiggling his brows. “Spin the bottle.”

“Gross,” Mitch groans. “Walkers don’t sleep, though. And he’s got a bed here surrounded by walls. Out there he’s got, what? A tent? Yeah, a fucking tent is going to stop walkers from crawling into bed with him. It’s so stupid, why is he so-”

“I don’t know,” Clementine cuts him off this time. As much as she’d love to watch Mitch rant and rave about James- then express his lack of caring, of course- she doesn’t have time. “Ask him yourself.”

“I would if he were ever here.”

“Well, when I bring him back, you two can have a nice chat about it.”

“Hmph.”

“Hey, Mitch!” Willy giggles, holding up the now shining flashlight as he lets out in a singsong voice, “ Backwards !”

“What? They fucking weren’t -!”

Clementine leaves them to enjoy the rest of their mornings. With Rosie at her side, they wander around to James’ usual spots close to the school, letting Rosie sniff around and chew up some sticks.

She eventually finds him near his barn full of walkers. It’s farther than he usually stays, but it’s of no concern to her now.

When he sees her, he slips his mask off. “Clementine,” he greets softly. Rosie comes up to him and licks his hand. He softly rubs her ears. “Ah, Rosie.”

“James, you’re okay.”

“Yes,” he says. “You were worried?”

“Just haven’t seen you in a while. Wanted to check up on you.”

He smiles. “You’re very kind,” he says. He stands from the log he’s sitting on and says, “It’s been peaceful out here. And cool. Sleeping outdoors when it’s like this always makes me feel good.”

She can see his usual tent set up back behind the barn, mostly hidden by trees and bushes.

“I can see that. Just, don’t forget to check in with us, okay? Willy’s been asking about you. Mitch, too.”

That makes James smile.

With the silence comes the true reason she’s out here. Clementine crosses her arms and takes a breath to steady her quick pulse. “Actually, there's something I wanted to ask you.”

“Oh?” he asks. “What is it?”

“Well, uhm,” Clementine looks up at the barn. It’s faint, but she can hear them shuffling around and groaning inside. “Of the walkers you’ve found, do any of them happen to be wearing a ring?”

James cocks his head to the side. “That’s a strange question.”

“I know.”

“What do you need a ring for?”

Clementine doesn’t reply right away. She tries to think of an excuse, to hide her true intentions, but her mind’s suddenly gone blank.

“Clementine?”

“I just... need a ring. Nothing fancy.”

James doesn’t push. He slips his mask on and as he walks over to the barn, he says, “I’ll look.”

He’s inside for a long time. Long enough that Clementine starts to get anxious. She wanders about, kicking at rocks and watching for stray walkers. She throws a stick for Rosie a few times.

Eventually, he does come out, and Clementine is right there, eager to see his findings.

James shakes his head. “Sorry.”

She gives a disappointed sigh.

She was hoping that she wouldn’t have to go back to the train station. It’s out of the way, and with only Rosie...

Actually...

“That’s okay,” she says. “Mind tagging along with me, then?”

“Where?”

“There’s a train station a little ways away,” she explains. “There’s a ring there.”

He’s curious, but again, he doesn’t push. “Okay.”

They don’t speak much as they walk. Clementine’s a little glad, it gives her a moment to really think about what she’s doing.

It’s odd that she’s considering the “feelings” of the dead walkers left in the train station, but she keeps telling herself they’re dead, they don’t need their wedding rings anymore. If anything, they'd be glad their rings could be used again for their intended purpose, right?

Then again, the couple had made a request to be left alone, one that Clementine didn’t honor. Perhaps they wouldn’t be too thrilled with her stealing from them after all.

The area around the train station is clear, just like it was yesterday. Once inside, they approach the couple. Clementine bends down and slips the gold ring off the male walker’s finger, wiping it off on her jacket. Studying it, something occurs to her.

What if it doesn’t fit?

She slips it onto her ring finger. It’s a little loose, and looking at it, she realizes it might even be too small for Louis. His hands are bigger than hers and if it’s only a little loose on her...

She turns back to James. “Try this on.”

“Uhm, what?” He blinks down at her.

“Your hands are bigger. I just need to see if it’ll fit.”

James’ eyes dart between her and the ring. “I don’t know if I should.”

“What?”

James grins. “Shouldn’t you get down on one knee, first?”

“One knee? What-” She stares at his playful expression and it hits her. “No! No, I’m not- no !”

“It’s just that Tennessee once told me-”

“I’m not proposing to you, you- you dingus !” She exclaims that way louder than she probably should have. This causes Rosie to bark.

James chuckles. “I know, I’m only joking. But, really, why do you need me to wear it?”

��Because I...” Clem lowers her head, weighing her options here. She decides that James is trustworthy and that the truth is the best answer. “Because you have bigger hands than me and... I need to see if this will fit Louis.”

The surprise is clear in his expression even though it’s obstructed by his mask.

“I see,” he says. “When did this happen?”

“Nothing’s ‘happened,’ really. Not yet.”

“He asked you...?”

“No,” she shakes her head. “He... actually has no idea about this.”

“ Oh .”

“So,” Clementine’s face is warm when she offers him the ring. “Will you just try it on?”

James takes the ring, but when he tries to slip it on, it barely goes past the mid-knuckle. “Seems he has smaller hands than me,” he says, referring to the walker.

“Shit. It probably won’t fit Louis then, either.”

Well, there went her plan.

“Keep it anyway,” James hands it back to her, “in case you can’t find anything else. I’ll keep an eye out for any walkers I come across, see what I can collect.”

“Thank you.”

An awkward silence falls over them, so she decides to check the lady walker, only to find her ring missing.

“Well... I might not need a ring. After all, it’s the thought that counts, right?” she half-jokes.

“Giving up so quick is unlike you,” says James. “His hands aren’t mine. It might fit.”

“Maybe.”

“At least keep it as a symbol of what you’re asking. It’ll mean a lot to him, regardless.”

Clementine runs a finger over the smooth band. It almost feels heavy, not physically, but with all the intentions behind it.

“Y’know, I never thought this would ever be an issue.”

“What? Finding a ring?”

“Yeah. Well… marriage. Not that it’s an issue, but,” she speaks before thinking when she asks, “Did you ever think about these things with Charlie?”

“...At one time, yes.” He says nothing more.

With the ring in her possession, Clementine leaves the couple behind once more.

She fumbles with the ring secured in her pocket. “Maybe there’s a way to change it? Stretch it, maybe?”

“I wouldn’t know,” James says. “Ask Mitch. He has plenty of tools. Maybe he could help.”

Clementine hadn’t thought of that.

Their tool collection doubled after they took down the raiders and stole most of their supplies. Plenty of things used for building or repairing or breaking things down. Mitch and Willy were thrilled when they dragged it all back to the school. They kept most of it hidden away in the basement.

Maybe they did have something that could help.

---

James comes back with her to the school and once they’re through the gates, he takes off his mask and is nearly run into by Willy and AJ.

“James!”

“You’re back!”

“Good to see you didn’t get your face chewed off,” Mitch says, approaching and knocking James’ shoulder with his fist.

“Yes,” James replies awkwardly, rubbing at his arm where Mitch punched him. “I typically try to avoid that.”

Ruby comes over to greet them, too, pushing Mitch back before he can grill James about his whereabouts in the woods.

“James, you hungry? I can have Omar whip you up something.”

“No, thank you, I’m alright-”

Willy grabs a hold of his arm and drags James over to one of the tables. “C’mon! Look what I did to this crossbow!”

“It’s super cool!” AJ exclaims.

“Oh-okay!”

Clementine grins before turning to Mitch and Ruby.

“He stayin’ a while this time?” she asks.

“I don’t know,” replies Clementine. “Hopefully.”

Mitch shakes his head, peering over at the boys before turning back to her. “Louis was asking for you earlier,” he says. “Something about tuning the piano or some shit.”

Clementine smiles. ‘Tuning the piano’ meant piano lessons. He’s been teaching her to play for a few months now, insisting she learns so they can do duets together. She isn’t great, but she’s improving.

Ruby giggles at the expression Clementine’s face. She snaps out of it and says, “Okay, I’ll go find him.”

Mitch rolls his eyes and walks away, grumbling something she can’t quite make out.

Before Clementine can call after him, Ruby says, “I left ‘The Woodsman’ in yer room fer ya.”

“Thanks,” she says. “Can’t wait to read it.”

“Enjoy tunin’ the piano,” Ruby smiles before walking off.

Clementine decides that Louis can wait a little longer as she watches Mitch flop down on the couch, a collection of tools on the table before him. He slips a sharpener over his fist and begin working one of his knives through it. It’s his favorite, the one with his name stitched into the leather handle.

“Hey,” she greets.

He barely looks up from his work.

“What’s up?”

“I need your help with something.”

“Oh, do you?” he says flatly.

“Yes,” Clementine frowns. “In the basement.”

“You couldn’t have said something before I sat down?”

She glares.

“...Right now?”

“Right now.”

Mitch examines his freshly sharpened knife. “...Fine. I was going down there anyway.” He tucks his weapon away and moves over to the basement doors, Clementine following close behind.

He yanks open the doors with a grunt, and as they go down the stairs, he asks, “What’ja need?”

They stop at one of the work desks as she pulls out the ring. “Is there any way you can make this bigger?”

Mitch stares at the ring with a deadpan expression.

“Serious?”

“Is that a no?”

Mitch snatches the ring out of her hand. “Make it bigger ?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“That’s for me to know.”

He shoots her another look. He taps the ring on the desk a few times then examines it again. Then, he bites it.

“Look, if you can’t do anything, just say so,” Clementine says, annoyed.

Mitch quirks a brow at her. “Fine,” he leans against the counter, holding the ring up, “I’ll see what I can do… if you tell me what it’s for.”

Clementine’s insides tighten. Knowing Mitch, he won’t give in, as stubborn as he tends to be. If she wants his help, she’d have to give in. Not point in fighting. Besides, it’s not that she doesn’t trust Mitch, quite the opposite. She just figures the fewer people who know, the less likely it is that Louis would find out.

Then again, if she doesn’t tell Mitch, he’ll go straight to Louis about it and the whole thing will be ruined.

“Fine, fuck it,” she says. “You’re going to find out anyway, might as well tell you now.” She crosses her arms and leans against the table as well. “But, you gotta keep it to yourself, at least for right now. Got it?”

“Fine.”

“It’s for Louis.”

“Louis?”

“Yeah, I’m…” she closes her eyes and takes a breath, “I’m asking him to marry me.”

Wow, saying it out loud is… strange.

When Mitch doesn’t respond, she looks up at him. His expression is almost funny.

“... Why ?” he finally asks.

Clementine shrugs, saying, “Because I love him.”

“Gross.”

She elbows him.

“Wait, you’re asking him to marry you? You know that’s not even a thing anymore, right?” Mitch asks. “That shit doesn’t matter.”

“Maybe not to everyone, and, honestly, it didn’t matter to me either until now,” she explains. “And it’s not a big deal, I just… want to let him know how I feel and I need a ring to give to him.”

“So, what? You’re gonna have a wedding?”

“I-I don’t know,” she admits.”I haven’t thought that far ahead yet.”

Mitch’s brows furrow as he eyes her and Clementine can see the gears turning in his head. She figured he wouldn’t understand what she wants to do, or that he’d call her an idiot, or-

“Are you doing this so you two can fuck?” Mitch asks bluntly.

It feels like her heart stops in her chest as her eyes pop wide open. “Excuse me?”

“Y’know, you don’t gotta be married to screw around. I’m not saying that you should or anything, though. These walls are fucking thin,” Mitch explains. “And we got kids around.”

Clementine’s mouth moves but no words came out. She shakes her head. “No, that’s not- we’re- just-”

“Y’know,” Mitch ignores her stuttering, “My grams used to tell us we’d go to Hell if we had sex before we were married and all kinds of stupid shit. Yet, here we are, literally living in hell, and I doubt it’s because some idiots fucked before someone ‘officially’ declared them married,” Mitch says. “Who even gets a say in what’s official or not anyway? Anyone can walk around and wear and ring and say they’re married to anybody, it doesn’t-”

“That’s not why I’m doing this!” Clementine manages. “That’s not even- It’s not your business anyway!”

Mitch frowns, holding up the ring, “Okay, fine, if not for that, then why the stupid ring? It doesn’t mean anything. Wearing this and saying you’re married doesn’t change anything, so why bother?”

“It means something to me, okay?” Clementine snaps. “I don’t care if it’s ‘not a thing’ anymore. Is it so wrong that maybe I want to try and give him something that most of us thought was long dead? That I want something like that?” She snatches the ring away from him. “Look… yesterday, AJ found a wedding photo that belonged to this walker couple, and Louis explained what it meant and I just… I haven’t been able to get it out of my head. I didn’t ask you to understand what I want to do. I asked you if you could adjust the ring for me.”

Mitch eyes her quietly.

Then, he straightens up. “Fine,” he says, holding out his hand, “I’ll fix your fucking ring.”

She hesitates but hands it back in his palm. Then, he searches around in one of the drawers and pulls out some string.

“Gimme your hand,” he demands.

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

She does so, and he wraps the string around her ring finger. He pinches it and slides it off, then cuts it with his knife. He gives her the rest of the string. “Measure his finger and get back to me.”

“Uhm?”

“Do it when he’s asleep or something.”

Clementine watches as he starts darting around, pulling tools off shelves and digging around in drawers, muttering to himself. When he notices she’s still standing there, he says, “Don’t you gotta meet your husband-to-be?”

Shit, she almost forgot.

“Right, the piano,” she says.

Mitch tenses. “Wait…” his face twists in disgust, “Oh, God, is ‘tuning the piano’ code for...?”

It takes her a second to get what he’s talking about.

“Mitch, I will stab you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I don’t wanna hear about it anyway,” he waves her off. “Go do your gross stuff.”

She leaves the basement flustered and ready to strangle that boy.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Clementine looks around for AJ. He’s still over sitting with James, Willy and Tenn. Determining he’s in good hands, she goes into the school.

---

A week passes before she's able to figure out how to measure Louis' finger.

She’s had several opportunities to do it but always lost her nerve last minute, always afraid that he’d stir awake and catch her tying the string around his finger. She couldn’t think of a reasonable excuse the cover up the truth.

She needed a different approach, so she concocted a plan.

Coming in from her evening watch, Clemeitne finds Louis and AJ still awake and reading a book together. She recognizes the cover as the one Ruby gave her.

"That was so cool!" AJ exclaims. "That wolf came outta nowhere and swish! Off goes its head!"

Louis laughs as AJ chops his hands through the air and jumps off the bed.

"Shouldn't you be asleep?" Clementine asks.

AJ freezes. "Oh, I couldn't sleep."

"I thought maybe a story would calm him down but it seems that backfired," Louis explains. He closes the book and sets it on the nightstand. This causes AJ to pout.

"C'mon, one more chapter?"

"Sorry, little dude, it's time to get some shut-eye."

"But, I'm not tired!"

"We can read some more tomorrow night, okay?"

"Promise?" AJ holds out his pinky, expression serious. Louis hooks their pinkies together.

"Promise."

"I'm still not tired, though.”

“Well, if that’s the case,” Clementine smiles, “I think Tenn’s still awake. You can go hang out with him and have a sleepover, or go on patrol if he’s already asleep.”

AJ’s eyes widen slightly. Clementine never suggests he go on patrol or have sleepovers.

“Okay, yeah, yeah I’ll do that!”

“Just go cause trouble.”

"I won't!"

He grabs his box of crayons off his desk and hurries out the door, excited to spend the night with his best friend.

Clementine shuts it fully, locking it. Louis notices as he slips off his jacket, tossing it over the desk chair and flopping down onto their bed.

“Well, now that the small child is gone, and we're alone..." he trails off.

Clementine feels her pulse quicken at the suggestive look on his face, but then rolls her eyes when he pulls out his deck of cards from his pocket. “How about we play a game?”

“Another card game, hm?”

Good, that’ll work.

“Don’t sound so thrilled,” he laughs. “We haven’t played in a while.”

He shuffles through his deck, flipping and rearranging them. She joins him on the bed, sitting across from him with her legs crossed. She reaches over and plucks the deck out of his hands.

“How about we mix it up tonight?”

She sets the cards on the table.

"What did you have in mind?”

She smirks.

“Close your eyes.”

Louis raises a curious brow up at her, saying, “Don’t think I’ve heard of that one.”

“Just do it.”

“And what happens when I do?”

“You’ll have to close them and see.”

He holds her challenging stare, but he rearranges his position on the bed to be more comfortable. He closes his eyes.

“Keep them closed,” she says. “And no peeking.”

“A little peeking?”

“Nope,” she pinches his arm. “Peek and you lose.”

She keeps an eye on his somewhat nervous face as she grabs his hand with the palm facing upwards.

“Uh, remind me,” he blurts out, “what are the rules of this game, exactly?”

“You keep your eyes closed,” she says, using her pointer finger to trace an L on his palm. Almost immediately, he closes his fist and jerks it away. He covers up a laugh with a cough.

“What-!?”

“Keep them closed!” Clem presses her other hand over his eyes.

“What are you doing ?”

“I’m going to spell something out on your hand,” she explains, “and when I’m done, you tell me what it spells. And you can’t look or pull away.”

“Seriously?” he asks. “Do you have any idea how much that tickles?”

“Well, I didn’t think you were that ticklish,” she teases. “But it’s nice to know.”

“I’m not!” he objects.

She grabs his hand again.

“I’ll give you an easy one to start, okay?”

She tries to move as little as possible to pull the string out of her pocket. She traces the L again. His fingers twitch and he grows tense with keeping the laughter bottled up inside him. She carefully spells the rest of his name as well as wraps the string lightly around his ring finger before quickly pulling it off.

“Don’t open them,” she says.

When she’s done, he pulls away again and rubs his hands together. He keeps his eyes closed.

“What did I spell?” she asks him. She ties the string at the measurement mark.

“Louis.”

“Are you sure?” she teases.

“I think I know how to spell my own name, thank you,” he says. “Even with whatever sneaky finger trick you’re trying to pull.”

“Well, I guess you win.”

“Can I open my eyes now?”

“No.”

“What? Isn’t it your turn?”

“Nope.”

“Darling, I’m starting to think this game’s a little rigged.”

Clementine takes a moment to glance over his face.

“Hell, I’m not sure this is even a real game.”

His brows knit with concentration. She can see he’s biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. She pockets the sting and reaches for his hand again, absently tracing the lines along his palm. His hand twitches again.

“Okay, that’s not even a word,” he complains. “That’s gibberish.”

She brings his hand up and kisses his knuckles.

“And that’s cheating.”

She leans over to kiss the scar on his chin, then his cheek. His breath stops before coming out shaky. Her kisses travel to his jaw as she lets go of his hand to run her fingers over the thin fabric of his shirt. They move to his collarbone and his neck. Her thumb presses lightly against his pulse point. It beats hard.

His skin is warm beneath her lips as she kisses along the exposed skin of his freckled chest.

He carefully grabs her waist, blunt nails digging into her jacket.

She traces a heart over his chest.

His grip on her tightened.

And she finally presses her lips to his with a satisfied sigh.

---

The world’s a blur when her eyes flutter open.

She’s relaxed, calm and content as she weaves in and out of dreamless sleep. The body pressed against her front is warm... and trembling?

Fear runs through her veins as she jolts up.

Louis is out of bed, inhaling gulps of air and shaking his hands out, trying to control his breathing. He paces closer to the door, looking ready to bolt, but she calls out to him.

“Louis?”

“Clem-” he coughs, keeping his back to her as he holds onto the desk chair for balance. He sounds winded like one would after running a nonstop marathon for hours on end, and looks as if he could collapse any moment.

“Shit,” she hears him whisper.

Clementine’s out of bed and reaching for him, only to have him jerk his arm free.

“I’m oh- I’m okay, Clem,” he gulps, sighing out more heaves like the room is leaking any spare oxygen and he can’t quite get enough. “Go back-” he motions to the bed pathetically, “bed.”

No way, she thinks, no way in hell is she leaving him like this. He’s trembling violently in all his attempts to compose himself.

“C’mere.”

“I’m fine-”

“Come here, Louis,” she murmurs, forcing him to face her. She cups his cheeks, and even through the darkness of their room, she can see the glossiness of his red eyes. Her thumb brushes beneath his eye just as a tear spills. “It’s okay, breathe with me.”

He shakes his head. “Shit-”

“Breathe with me.”

He nods quickly, squeezing his eyes shut and following her lead, taking a deep breath and holding it, letting it swell in his chest before exhaling slowly.

Clementine watches him, looking over the terror furrowing his brow and the moisture clinging to his lashes.

He’d been sleeping so calmly these past few weeks.

But, even so, the nightmares always come back.

They always did for her, too.

That’s where she and Louis differed, she thinks. Clementine’s nightmares have become a normal, accepted part of her life. She knows there’s no escape from them, regardless of how real or not they feel. She can cope.

But Louis… even now, two years later, he still dreams of that woman.

Shit, Clementine can't even remember her name or what she looked like, but Louis does. Her name engraved itself into his brain the moment Minerva screamed it.

She’s tried telling him over and over again that what he did was self-defense, that if he hadn’t done what he did, that woman wouldn’t have hesitated to kill him.

Fuck, that woman wouldn’t have hesitated to cut off his hand had AJ not attacked her. In her mind, Louis had no reason to feel so horrified, so ashamed.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps out.

But he did feel those things and she wouldn’t ever ignore that. She wouldn’t ever belittle that.

“I’m sorry.”

Louis grips her waist and tugs her closer, burying his face into her shoulder, still grumbling silent apologies. She rubs his back and his arms to try and calm his shaking, whispering comforting words into his ear and kissing his temple, his cheek. She wipes the cold sweat off his brow.

They stay like that for a long time until she takes his hand and leads him back to bed.

When they wake up tomorrow morning, she doesn’t say anything.

He moves about the room, gathering his boots and sitting on the bed to lace them up. With a heavy sigh, he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and rubbing at his face.

She reaches for him, pressing her cheek into his shoulder and dragging her hands up and down his arms. She hums a calming, light tune. One that Louis likes to hum himself.

“Clementine?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

And like that, every little doubt she ever had about what she truly wanted with him vanishes.

“I love you, too.”

#[with you]#twdg clementine #twdg louis #twdg aj #twdg violet #twdg mitch #twdg willy #twdg james #twdg aasim #twdg ruby #twdg tenn #twdg omar #twdg clouis #clouis #twdg louisentine #louisentine #clementine x louis #louis x clementine #twdg fanfic

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eddie-boii · 4 years

Text

Never Let You Go (part 7/14)

Fic info: Both Eddie and Stan live because I do what I want. Multichapter.

Rating: Teen and up (may change). Language.

Pairings: Reddie, Benverly.

Ao3 link: here

Summary: The Losers prepare for a wedding. Here’s some Trashstack friendship for the soul.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

Tomorrow was the big day. It still hadn’t quite registered with Richie, that tomorrow two of his best friends would be getting married. It seemed like Bev had only just asked him to be her man of honour and then he’d blinked and suddenly the Losers - plus Audra and Patty - were checking into the fancy-as-fuck hotel where the reception would be held, and Ben and Bev were assigned separate rooms until the wedding had taken place, and Stan was running around with a headset trying to make sure the caterers would arrive on time and the flower displays were the ones they ordered and a bunch of other crap Richie stayed the hell out of for the sake of his sanity. Weddings seemed stressful as fuck, and Richie decided then and there that if he was ever going to get married, it would be while drunk as fuck in Vegas with only the Losers present and probably a shitty Elvis impersonator ordaining the whole thing.

“Your rooms are already booked,” said Stan, taking a short break from yelling into his headset. “Just give your name at reception.” He waved them over to the desk and went back to arguing with someone about the colour of the tablecloths.

Richie waited for Patty to collect hers and Stan’s keys, which took a few minutes as she was happily chatting with the receptionist about what kind of birds could be found in the area, and Richie smiled to himself because Stan really deserved someone like her in his life.

“Sorry, love, I won’t keep you waiting,” Patty said, blushing slightly as she remembered there was a queue behind her. She shuffled out of the way and went to chat with Audra and Bev, who seemed thrilled to have other women to talk to, and Richie moved up to the desk and gave the receptionist a smile.

“Richie Tozier,” he said.

“Richard?” the receptionist asked and Richie nodded. “Yes, I have you booked in for room 3b with Mr Edward Kasbrak.”

Richie, in a moment of pure elegance, started choking on air, and Eddie, who had been standing right behind him, shoved his way up to the desk.

“Excuse me? Why are we not in separate rooms?” he hissed, face red.

The receptionist looked a little frightened which Richie couldn’t blame her for; anyone not used to Eddie’s frequent tirades had a right to be terrified of how intense he could be.

“Um… I’m sorry, sir, but it was requested when the rooms were booked…”

“Stanley,” Richie growled, because who else would refer to him as ‘Richard’ when booking a room. “Stanley!” he shouted this time, turning to glare at his friend who only pointed to his headset and mouthed ‘Can’t talk, I’m on the phone,’ even while grinning gleefully at him. Richie flipped him off then turned back to the receptionist, trying to relax his face into a polite smile. “Do you have any other rooms available?”

The receptionist turned to her computer and clacked away at her keyboard, but frowned and shook her head. “I’m sorry, sir, we’re all booked up.”

Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose and it looked like it was taking all of his energy not to start screaming or at least run across the room and punch Stan in the face. “Are there at least two beds?” he said, voice hoarse.

“Just the one king-sized bed, I’m afraid,” the receptionist said. She looked terrified and Richie quickly put himself between her and Eddie to shield her from the waves of anger he was currently radiating.

“We’ll just take the key, thanks.”

The receptionist breathed a sigh of relief before passing over the keycards and Richie dragged Eddie away.

“Dude, it’s fine,” Richie said, trying to be reassuring even though internally he was screaming. “We used to share a bed whenever you slept over at my house, remember?”

“When we were kids,” hissed Eddie.

“It’s just for tonight,” said Richie. “Tomorrow night one of us can steal Ben or Bev’s room after they hitch up together.”

Eddie ran a hand down his face and groaned. “Okay, but we’re stealing all the complementary shit.”

“Of course.”

“And we’re murdering Stan.”

“I couldn’t do that to Patty,” Richie cried, putting a hand to his forehead dramatically.

“If we play our cards right, we can get her to help us,” said Eddie.

“You’re right,” said Richie, “but let’s wait until after the wedding.”

“Deal.”

They dropped their belongings off in their room and Richie stole both the pillow chocolates while Eddie inspected every inch of the room for germs or safety risks. Thankfully, the bed was big enough to fit every one of the Losers, and Richie doubted they’d even brush hands in the night. Then again, he seemed to remember that as kids, Eddie had always been a cuddly sleeper, always seeking out warmth, and Richie had woken up after many a sleepover with Eddie attached to him like a koala. He wondered if Eddie had changed at all.

They met back up with the Losers soon afterwards for dinner in the grand dining hall, and Richie was tempted to tell Bill and Mike that Stan was trying to meddle with their bet, but he was too caught up in devouring the delicious food. They stayed seated around the table long after the last morsels had been finished, chatting away as easily as they always had, and Richie was thrilled with a new audience of Audra and Patty to tell all his old jokes to and embarrass his friends with childhood stories. As it turned out, they had a few embarrassing tales of Bill and Stan of their own, and Richie listened raptly, silently adding the stories to his internal blackmail list.

Once the sky outside was freckled with starlight, they excused themselves to head to bed, wanting to get a good night’s sleep before the big day. Richie wasn’t tired just yet, so decided to explore the hotel, a mighty thing that was probably over a hundred years old, full of grand staircases and fancy paintings and probably a bunch of secret passageways. Richie wandered outside to the grounds, hands tucked deep in his pockets for warmth against the frigid air. The garden was a spectacle all on its own, with hedges neatly trimmed into animal sculptures and framed in moonlight, and an impeccably groomed lawn that stretched on for miles, the blades of grass shimmering gently in the breeze. And huge fountain stood at the centre, the water frozen over in midair and twinkling like diamonds under the starlight, and woodland bordered the lawn, pine trees towering over everything like silent guardians. He wondered how it would all look in the spring with flowers blooming in the flowerbeds and the fountain flowing freely, the water sparkling in the sunshine.

He made his way over to one of the benches that sat against the hotel wall facing the grounds and found it was already occupied.

“How you doing there, Haystack?” Richie greeted, taking a seat beside Ben who was fidgeting with a piece of paper in his hands. “Pre-wedding jitters?”

Ben gave him a shaky smile and nodded, folding up the piece of paper and slipping it into his jacket pocket. “Any minute now, I feel like I’m gonna wake up and realise this has all been a dream.”

“Long ass dream,” Richie commented. He leaned over and pinched Ben’s arm and grinned when he yelped. “Nope, you’re not dreaming!”

“Still hard to believe,” said Ben, rubbing his arm where Richie had pinched him. “If you went back in time and told thirteen-year-old Ben he’d be marrying Beverly Marsh, he would not have believed you.”

“If you went back in time and told little Ben he’d end up looking hotter than the Hemsworth brothers, he wouldn’t have believed you either, but here you are.”

“He wouldn’t know who the Hemsworth brothers were,” Ben laughed.

“Hotter than, uh...” Richie shrugged. “I dunno, who’s the hottest New Kids on the Block guy?”

“They’re all equally hot, I can’t choose,” Ben said, shaking his head solemnly.

“You’d go for an orgy, huh?”

Ben snorted and nudged Richie affectionately. “Shut up.”

Richie grinned and nudged him back. “Seriously, man, you’re gonna be fine. You and Bev are meant to be, trust me.”

“It’s still so surreal,” said Ben gazing up at the stars wistfully. “I’ve been in love with her since we were kids. Can you imagine-” He stopped short, glancing at Richie. “I mean-” He coughed - “It’s just- It’s just like a dream come true, really. That’s all.”

“I can imagine,” said Richie quietly. He was staring down at his shoes but didn’t miss the surprised look Ben sent his way. He cleared his throat before looking up at Ben once more and giving him a grin he hoped looked genuine. “You’re a lucky guy.”

Ben just looked at him, his eyes soft and brows furrowed slightly in concern, then he edged closer to Richie and took his hand. “Listen, man, if you ever wanna talk, I’m here.”

“Oh, I’m just fine, Benjamin,” Richie said with false cheer. “This is your big day!”

But Ben didn’t relent. “Seriously,” he said softly. “The other’s joke about it, I know. They think it’s just a crush. But I- I know.”

That gave Richie pause. “You do?” he said, his voice coming out hoarser than he meant it to.

“Remember after we beat Pennywise and Eddie was hurt?” said Ben, and Richie nodded because he couldn’t possibly forget. It had been the worst time of his life. “You pulled him out of there and we had to drag you to the Quarry while he was in intensive care so we could clean up a bit and you just- You just started crying.” He paused, squeezing Richie’s hand a little tighter, and Richie just stared fixedly at the ground trying to suppress the emotions from that day that were trying to claw their way back up. “That,” said Ben. “That’s exactly how I would’ve reacted if- If it had been Bev.” He swallowed tightly as if the mere thought of Bev getting hurt caused him pain.

“You love him,” said Ben softly. It wasn’t a question, but Richie nodded anyway. “As long as I’ve loved Bev?”

“Longer, bitch, I’ve got you beat,” said Richie, trying for his usual humour except it came out as half a sob. “Shit,” he said, dragging his free hand down his face. “This is so stupid. I’m like a fucking school girl.”

“You’re not stupid, Rich,” said Ben. He smiled gently, always so soft and sincere. “You’re a lovesick fool, just like me.”

“Same thing,” Richie snorted. “But you can’t talk, you got her in the end.”

“Who says you won’t get Eddie?” said Ben.

Richie snorted again. “Look at you, and then at me. Hot Brazilian soccer player versus weird hobo who can never shut up. You could’ve gotten anyone you wanted.”

“I don’t think Bev likes me just for my looks,” said Ben. “At least I hope not. And I don’t think Eddie’s cares either. And shut up, you’re attractive! In like… and unconventional sense.”

“Thanks, man.”

“You know what I mean.” Ben nudged him again, grinning. “Personally, I think you’re just Eddie’s type. And I know he likes you.”

“Oh yeah?” said Richie. “And how come you’re so sure?”

Ben smiled softly again, his eyes twinkling brightly in the starlight and his expression so open and sincere. “Because he looks at you the way I used to look at Bev.”

Richie gaped at him, witty retort stuck on his tongue. He stammered, flustered, then shoved Ben away slightly, extracting his hand from his grip. “Yeah fucking right, Haystack. You just wanna win whatever bet you have with the others.”

“I never took that bet,” said Ben. He smiled at the surprised look Richie gave him. “I’m rooting for you no matter what you decide, Trashmouth. Whatever makes you happy.”

“You’re too good for this world, Benny-boy,” said Richie. “You’re gonna make a disgustingly wonderful husband.”

“I hope so,” Ben said. “She deserves the whole world.”

“Seriously gonna vomit,” Richie warned and Ben just laughed at him.

They sat there in companionable silence for a while, just gazing up at the stars until Richie figured his nose was gonna drop off from frostbite if he stayed outside any longer and he dragged Ben in with him, telling him to get a good nights sleep for the big day tomorrow.

Richie made his way back to his room a little apprehensively - Eddie would blow up if he got woken up - but he found the room empty. He checked his phone to find some texts from Eddie he’d missed while out with Ben.

[10:23] Spaghetti <3: Don’t wait up

[10:23] Spaghetti <3: Staying with Bev tonight

Richie’s stomach filled with something akin to disappointment which was ridiculous; he’d spent his whole adult life not sharing a bed with Eddie and it wasn’t as though something would happen even if he was. He refused to let his disappointment show, even to himself, and sent a quick reply to Eddie.

[11:39] Richie: Sleeping with the bride on her wedding night?? How scandalous!

[11:40] Spaghetti <3: Shut the fuck up trashmouth

Richie smiled to himself at Eddie’s quick, ever-annoyed response.

[11:41] Richie: Nighty night Eds

[11:42] Spaghetti <3: Night Rich

[11:42] Spaghetti <3: Don’t call me that

Richie tossed the phone on his nightstand. It was probably a good thing he had the room to himself; he’d probably be up all night having a gay panic with Eddie sleeping next to him and end up looking like a complete zombie on the wedding day. And besides, this meant he had the whole bed to himself. Room to stretch out without Eddie koala-clinging to him in the middle of the night. He definitely hadn’t missed that. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

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#it chapter 2 #it chapter two #reddie #benverly #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #ben hanscom #beverly marsh #fic #writing #fanfic #fluff #fix it #slow burn #EB writes

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