#you cannot convince me that he did not have a long hair phase | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thejjkhoe · 2 years

Text

five thirty am prologue

author’s note.

warnings : mention of death, mention of killings

chapter one

“This is the only way I’ll be sure to protect you without them targeting your back: Marry me.”

“Don’t shackle yourself like this, ‘Toru.”

FIVE THIRTY AM

Gojo (Name) will always wake up earlier before her husband, Gojo Satoru, and find herself in the same exact intimate position every morning ever since the chaotic duo got married for the past seven years, where Satoru’s arms are wrapped around her waist, pulling her to his embrace, head buried in the crook of her neck, letting his soft snore muffled under her embrace.

(Name) would always reciprocate his touches because it brought her so much comfort and security in his arms she craves so much.

After a minute trying to wake herself up, she let her chin rest on the top of his head with her arms wrapped around his neck, stroking the soft white hair between her fingers because she loves how it feels to hold him like this, making Satoru snuggled up to her more, craving warmth every second that has passed.

Maybe this is one thing that’s uncharacteristic of him she likes him about the most, that only (Name) could see— he’s touch starved that he practically melts under his wife’s touch, seeking them every chance he gets when they’re alone.

(Name) naturally understand her other half of course, this man besides her always has his infinity on everytime the two step outside and the only way Gojo Satoru, the strongest, gets to rest is when they are behind closed doors. Humming to herself lightly at the thought, the woman could almost find it endearing and almost fooled herself to think he’s in love with her.

They could say they’re in love, but not in the way people think of their definition of love is just because they were married.

Gojo Satoru and (Name) love each other where they fool themselves they’re still in their highschool, acting as if they’re still young and joking around, pranking and such, never growing up from that phase. Refusing to grow up in the part of their lives love the most.

But to say they’re in love with each other so much where they share their mind, heart and soul? (Name) thinks it’s cute if he would do that for her, his wife, but she knows he wouldn’t and not one bit did (name) mind, it’s not very much like him if he would do that for his close friend who only married her because she’s only a blink away from death.

(Name) stopped caressing his hair and stared at the clock by their bedside, it says five thirty five am.

Right.

(Name) was supposed to be executed. She’s supposed to be dead— because she was framed of aiding Geto Suguru for killing one hundred and twelve people in his hometown, she could almost laugh in disbelief because she didn’t knew anything about her junior’s crimes yet.

She vividly remembered the night where she invited him inside her apartment to have some tea because he looked so tired. (Name) was so oblivious that she didn’t want to acknowledge his sudden change of demeanor and the off beat energy that surrounds him and she wished she had asked, almost every day the woman blames herself for letting him go down to a path he can’t come back.

“But what would change? I know him like the lines of my hand, he wouldn’t stop once he’s set onto something, I can’t even convince him to stop because we both knew. We both knew what he did was unforgivable and cannot be looked past.” She told herself, chest burns where she can still the stinging betrayal.

Pressing her lips against Gojo’s head and taking a long deep breath after that haunting memory, she continued to caress his white hair again that eased her nerves, the night came flashing in her mind of how exactly she’s alive right now.

One faithful day in March 2010, fresh out of graduation, (Name) was placed in Tokyo Jujustu High to become a teacher for the second years sorcerers, where she had her own office and everything looked so perfect, she was beyond happy to finally help young students because it’s been a dream of hers to change the future of the Jujutsu society but what goes through her mind was as she looked in the four corner room with tears threatening to spill is; “what a waste, and here I was excited to be a teacher.”

(Name) is going to get executed in the next 48 hours— now only have less than 30 hours. Sinking in her couch, she looked up in the ceiling, obviously defeated and spent that she couldn’t do anything about it, even her mentor, the man who took care of her she was a child, Yaga, accepted in defeat and she couldn’t exactly blame him, no matter how painful it is. (Name) is merely waiting to greet death as if they were old friends.

“I haven’t even gone to disneyland with Gojo yet.” Murmuring to herself, recalling the moment that she wants to go to Disneyland with him because of a stupid joke they had back in college. She stretched her limbs, hearing the joints make a soft crack before closing her eyes to relax one last time.

Three minutes in her slumber, a familiar presence chilled the woman’s body but she didn’t have to open her eyes to see who it was when they sat on the couch opposite of her, it’s funny how (name) memorized Gojo’s action naturally as breathing.

He didn’t say anthing but that piqued her interest more. “Hmm?” Cracking one eye open, she took note on how different Gojo is, his eyes looked tired just like that day and he’s frowning deeply, looking at her quietly, watching her every moves like a hawk.

“You just got dumped again, huh, ‘Toru?” She murmured, letting a small teasingly smile onto his way but he didn’t bother to smile back and this is how the woman knows he’s serious that she dropped her smile, (she mentally notes that you don’t fuck around Gojo Satoru if he’s dead serious about something and vice versa.)

He says her name quietly and she immediately straightened up in her seat, concerned when she heard how tired he sounds right now, eyes looking at his blue ones (she noticed he wasn’t wearing his glasses today.) “I know you didn’t helped him, you wouldn’t hurt non-sorcerers, and I won’t let you die because they failed to kill him.” He explained slowly, his words processing through her brain before nodding to let him continue.

“I won’t forgive myse—“ his breath hitched in his throat, eyes suddenly looking at the floor like it was an interesting thing before shaking his head, “you were just caught up in some trouble that doesn’t have anything to do with you in the first place and i’m not letting those old geezers have their way.”

Inhaling deeply, this was the first time (Name) saw him nervous, he reached something in his pocket and pulled out a velvet box, straight to the point, he wasted no time to let her know his intentions.

She stiffened and hold her breath at the sight before her, (name) knows what’s about to happen as Gojo flipped open the box, revealing a diamond ring between the soft black cushion, “since when did Gojo had that ring? That’s unlikely of him.” She thought, humoring herself as she thought of him looking at jewelry shop for diamond rings as if he was buying groceries in one Sunday afternoom.

“This is the only way I’ll be sure to protect you without them targeting your back: Marry me.”

It wasn’t a question, more of a demand.

(Name) couldn't hold her laugh, it brings no humor, only disbelief because she knew Gojo will do something about her situation but she didn't expect this. For forcing himself to settle down when they both knew he can not commit to a relationship, let alone marriage. This is like sending a huge middle finger to the higher ups and to his family.

Gojo? Marriage? For her? A grade 1 sorcerer who likes to cause trouble for others? (name) covered her face with her hand, a pained smile evident on her lips, tears forming in the corner of her eyes because she wasn’t prepared for the sudden help she’s receiving from the Gojo Satoru himself and with this sudden proposal. (Name) finds herself to humor that she wanted a proper proposal, like under the moonligt candlelit dinner and not on some lonely office before her execution, though it could make a great story to tell to the kids under Gojo’s wing; Megumi and Tsumiki. Seeing Tsumiki smile and Megumi uninterested look would make her day.

Stopping herself from her stupid thoughts when the man in front of her was serious, the guilt was starting to grow dreadful in her chest and she couldn’t help but allow her tears fall freely down to her cheeks, not minding one bit acting helpless in front of her junior.

It’s a pretty good plan, (Name) admits. If the two of them gets married, no one— not even the higher ups will dare mess with the strongest and the person he got married to because if they did, Gojo Satoru wouldn’t waste his time being a pacifist, he will destroy them if it’s needed, he’s just finding a reason not to obliterate them to dust and that reason is (Name). The woman he wants to protect. Yes, it’s a good plan but something ugly reared on her head that she forced to swallow a sob and let out a shaky breath.

“I know rebound is your thing, ‘Toru, but at least invite me to dinner first.” She jokingly said, but her voice wavered, chest tightening that she would almost forgot how to breath and somehow, it hurts really bad.

(Name) loves Gojo Satoru really, she loves him as a friend that you would ride and die for, go to jail with, the white haired man has done so much for her that she’s ashamed to show her face around him because she hasn’t repaid all the help he gave her, and now he’s doing such lengths again for her as if he’s not aware he’s going down with her.

When Gojo says her name again, her heart dropped to her stomach and that’s the second time she saw him vulnerable because this time he was desperate, he doesn’t need to say anything when his eyes on her could tell her everything she needed to know.

“Please,” she whispers softly, moving her hand to look at him, her eyes meeting his blue ones to show she’s okay, that she can put up with a brave façade and refusing to act weak around him because she knows he despised the weak, ‘at least let me go looking strong one last time for you.’ She wants to say but (Name) couldn’t find herself to lie to his face, not when they’re vulnerable to eachother’s presence for the second time.

“Don’t shackle yourself like this, ‘Toru.”

“Just this once,” he says, (name) could only let out a bitter frown when his voice goes quiet, his playful personality wasn’t present in this room, another lone tear streamed down her cheek when she looked at him because she’s scared for herself and what will Gojo do if they finally killed her off.

“He lost so much, what will finally push him to the edge?” She asked herself, the thought of him losing another love one was unbearable to think about it, she still remembers how broken he was when Geto Suguru betrays them. Is this his way of redeeming himself because he couldn’t help his one and only straying down the path he cannot pull himself off?

“Yes, maybe.” she thinks. It’s painstakingly clear as light of the day. Geto Suguru and (Full Name) were his closest friends, the ones who understand him when no one can and everyone will be damned if they took (Name) away, she knows that Gojo can’t imagine without her in this lifetime because whether they like it or not, (Name) had placed herself in his life.

The ring is now between his index finger and thumb, his other hand reaching out for her. “Let me protect you, I can’t lose you, anyone but you.”

This was surprisingly uncharacteristic of him but at the same time it’s so much like him to do this that she smiled, it didn’t reached her eyes but she smiled. (Name) reached out, her hand was shaking so bad because she knows what she wants and knowing the ugly consequences of it but is it so bad to be selfish of wanting to live and make more memories with her love ones? She wants to be save, he knew that and he will.

Her hand grabbed his delicately, his thumb caressing her knuckles attempting to calm her down because she was shaking so much, whispering words of encouragement, telling her that it’s alright, he’s right here, let him handle this. Gojo slipped the diamond ring on her finger and (Name) admires it and was genuinely surprised it fits her perfectly.

“You’re so cruel, ‘Toru.” (Name) meant differently when she uttered those words but for now, she’ll let her fate be at the palm of his hands and maybe soon, she’ll explain what those meant.

six a.m when the alarm ruined her thoughts.

Gojo groaned distastefully at the annoying blare of the alarm, eyebrows furrowing and forcing to pull away from her embrace to turn it off before snuggling up to her again.

They may not love eachother as a married couple but they do love to act intimate with eachother. As of lately, (Name) noticed he’s been clingy (not in a bad way, of course.) ever since he brought out the idea of spending time with eachother few months ago.

“We’ve been married for like— seven years? And we didn’t get to spend time together because of our job— hey! Stop giving me that look, I know! I know we don’t like eachother that way but I think it’ll be nice.” (Name) recalls how Gojo acted one night, a smile appearing on her lips at the sudden memory, the thought of Gojo genuinely helping her made her feel like the luckiest woman alive.

Ever since Fushiguro Tsumiki got comatosed around in April, (Name) starts to blame herself for not protecting Megumi’s older sister and would distance herself from her social cirle that her husband starts to appear on her side almost everyday that he brings her along to a mission or meeting that didn’t really require her presence— but Gojo doesn’t want to let his wife to be alone in a thought when she feels like she’s useless and he helped her get back on her feet. He really means it when he said he wants to protect her and that made her feel safe, something she longed for the longest time.

This physical touch of intimacy and his words of affection helped her, slowly building up her confidence and she couldn’t help but seek to him more and more.

Gojo started to run his thumb across her back as if comforting her, something he likes to do everytime they’re together and this made (Name) let out a small hum, her nails going down on his back, drawing circles and such. “Good morning to you too.” She murmured and tried to sit up, but he groaned playfully, he tightened his arms around her to keep her in place.

“Five more minutes.” Gojo grumbled and (name) lets out a hearty laugh, she pats his back softly, he really does love to act like a clingy husband, she loves it but if (Name) admitted that out loud, she wouldn’t hear the end of it that she can already picture Gojo with a shit eating grin and teasing her in front of their students.

“You can stay five more minutes in the bed, because i’m not, I have to cook for our breakfast and i’m starving! I went grocery yesterday because i’m tired of you taking me out almost everyday on a restaurant.” She complains, prying away from his arms and he still didn’t budge.

“Eh, we’ll try the new restaurant down the street.” He murmurs but that didn’t convinced her.

“New restaurant?” She teased, looking at Gojo who’s looking at her expectantly, a lazy smiled adorned his lips. He looks so ethereal, his white hair is all messed up but still manage to look pretty, he looks like he wants to get back to sleep from the way he struggles to open his eyes but she can see how it lits up when she gave a teasing smile. Pressing her forehead against his, she playfully poke his nose with her finger. “You just want to eat something sweet, so no, eat vegetables ‘Toru.”

The two of them noticed their innocent intimate act is natural between the two of them, as if they’re doing this for years, from the way he holds her hand, a rare soft smile plastered on his lips when she pinched his cheeks playfully. “Eh…” he pouted that earned another laugh out of her.

“You’ll live, ya big baby.” (Name) finally pried off his arms around her and stood up from their shared bed, making her way to the kitchen and ignoring Gojo’s soft whining about her needing to give him affection or else he would die.

What a drama queen, she thought. But that drama queen is her husband that she finds herself falling in love with but refuse to see it.

136 notes · View notes

sincerely-shai · 1 year

Text

Her.

"She has slightly fair skin, her eyes are similar to Constance Wu of Crazy Rich Asians. She could style her hair so well that whether it be long or short, curls or straight, it won't matter because it will always look good on her. She has a good fashion sense that even if she just wears a simple tee and Nike shorts it's enough to make her attractive. Her legs are long and she has a slim body type that when she wears a swimsuit, she looks so fine. Her matte red lipstick suits her, probably the first thing a man would notice.

She's gorgeous. Definitely the type of woman a real man would pursue. You know, the type that you'll introduce to your family. The one you'll be so proud of. The one you'll flex on social media. If genie exists, I'd wish for a day that I'll be in her position. Because maybe, I would never feel as if I'm just a garbage that one can throw anywhere, anytime. I wouldn't even have to overthink because you'll assure that it's just me and no one else. There's no need to commute after shift because you'll voluntarily pick me up and make sure I am safe. Always safe. Maybe, I'll never feel as if I'm replaceable. That I am hard to lose. A "can't lose this girl". Maybe there would never be a sleepless night when we argue because you'd make sure that we communicate before we sleep. Maybe I'll be spoiled with gifts. You'll hug me so tight, kiss me on my forehead and tell me that I am yours. Maybe I'll experience how it feels like to be treated like a Queen. You'll tie my shoes, open up the car door for me, and help me whenever you can that I'll forget to use my hands because you do it freely. Maybe when I get sick, you'll come over and take care of me. You cannot even spend more than 3 hours when we argue and text me first because you'll be worried and you'll say that you'd rather lose the argument than lose me. If that would happen, I'll be forever grateful. For once, I'll experience a love that makes me feel like I am a woman that's treated with respect. But no, I cannot convince someone to value me. If they want to, they would. In the first place there's no direction. Maybe because it's just convenient and no intentions for it to last. Just go with the flow and whatever happens, happens. Uncertain. Unstable. Maybe if I was her, you'll see the future. With me, it's just a phase. Like it's gonna pass by, you'll forget me so easily. As if I didn't make any difference in your life. As if I didn't make you happy. As if my existence didn't matter.

To that girl, I want to love your ex as much as you did. He doesn't realize how much I want him in my life. That he's too important. That I don't want to be temporary.

I wish I was you because years ago, he gave his hundred percent. Now, he cannot even give me half. You'll always have that spot in his heart he won't give to anyone. Not even to me."

#slg

0 notes

yostresswritinggirl · 3 years

Text

Readers: We want Red Xiao x Reader x Green Xiao content PLEASE

Exiled: Well yes but actually no

Intermittent

Pairing -> Red/Green Xiao x Reader

Word Count -> 2088

Themes -> Okay, get this: Fluff, Angst, Suggestive scene (but not too bad). It's a trifecta.

Series -> #SojournerSpecials (masterlist)

Credit: @m370N4 for Header

Warnings -> Spoilers, violence, oh gawd there's so many violence

Your lover is going through a phase.

Perhaps you should have expected this much after the things that he's gone through, and the things that he is going through. The Archon War does not pick its victims. Saints and sinners, weak and strong, participants and bystanders; they all have one thing in common, they all can die any day now as the war rages on.

The thought of impending doom puts your heart into great unease as your arms tighten, lips softly pecking the red diamond on the Yaksha's forehead as he sighs in what you hope was relief.

The adepti are strong and aid in this war under the stead of Rex Lapis, but on the forefront of greater danger leads the Yakshas. The fateful battle between Osial and the Geo Archon ended not too long ago to put an end against the Lord's destructive ministrations, but Gods do not die, only slumber; his hatred in great intensities brought forth demonic plague that now haunts the blood bathed lands of Liyue. With his indispensable power and contractual obligation, Xiao became one of the five known Yakshas devoted to conquering those evil.

You were no beast in the battlefield but alongside Cloud Retainer and Ganyu you hold well in ensuring the well-being of mankind, but you only wish there was anything you can do to help the true warriors of the Harbour.

"How are you feeling?" You ran your hands through his chopped hair as his body leans against you, still tense. Xiao produces a strangled groan upon the question, a sound you still have yet to grow accustomed to.

It was a side effect even the glorified Archon did not expect. Yet it was too late to back down from the duties, to turn away from the chaos.

"Still standing, nothing I cannot handle," leaning away from your hold, his honey eyes then sets upon yours in gentle reassurance. Exposed fingers softly brushing against your cheekbone reminiscent of a flutter, so light it sends your heart into a faster pace. "And on your end? I have heard of the mortals establishing a new type of governance, how is it faring?"

Xiao hooks his fingers under your chin in full attention, and the pairing with his tantalizing smile sent your mind melting. "It's going-," your cleared your throat of the strangled pitch you produced and tried again, "Going great! Ganyu made it her duty to oversee it as the secretary."

"That is a fine arrangement." He hums inquisitively but you both know his attention was on somewhere else, what with the way his sharp orbs kept flickering to gaze on your lips. And with how his face was slowly, surely drawing near.

"Indeed, indeed." Breathed you as you closed your eyes, ready to capture his lips for a longing kiss, his other hand rests on your lower back to guide you to his lap—

When the shutter doors slammed open, the interruption causing you to yelp as Xiao embarrassingly hides your head to his exposed chest. That did NOT lessen the warmth of your cheeks.

"Conqueror of Demons! I- I'm sorry to interrupt-"

"Pervases, go on."

"The Yaksha of flames-" A rumbling roar of a scream had all three of you shoot your heads up in alert. And within seconds you had scrambled to your feet, rushing out of the shrine to investigate the commotion. The atmosphere had you choking from the scent of arson, black smoke erupting from the burning grass and natural flora around the area.

But in the middle of the ruins had you almost dispelling the contents of your stomach, your hand shooting up to cover your mouth at the the sight. Besides you Xiao dashes past in a vain attempt to quell the flames— the lick of fire that burned the Pyro Yaksha whole, who screams in both agony and anguish over the deep unknown, skin and clothes turning black and charred.

Xiao's swings barely made a dent to the wall of fire that prevents anyone from coming close to the Yaksha. "Please, leave me alone! Let me go! Stop it!" There was an illusionary sense to her words as she screams at the empty void in front and within her, piercing and aching. You called for her name, shouted, in hopes that she may snap out of it.

Dried up tears came upon her ruby gaze as it flickers over to yours. She heard you. Her lips quivered into those of familiarity and she opens her mouth- only to scream her loudest, one last painful cry, as her body drops as a smoking corpse.

Charred and pure black. Twitching and steaming, but not alive.

You didn't realize you were crying until you felt the comfort of Xiao's hand wiping at your cheek, his red fingerless gloves catching the dampness as you released your sobs.

You didn't notice the gradual decrease of red in his clothing until you looked at him one day without feeling a pang on your chest. When you looked at him with only curiousity upon him calling your name, he offered a smile as he cups your cheek; it didn't feel like the same traumatic time when the Yaksha died, your cheek leaning on his cerulean palm.

It wasn't red. Maybe that's what drove away your thoughts.

"It looks good on you," you mumbled as you watched his now black and green hair sway from the breeze.

"Thank you."

The clouds of Jueyun Karst brings peace to all that gazes on it. That may be the reason why it was Menogias' favorite place to sit by upon finishing her duties for the day, and at times she invites you over when you are done with your own; 'your presence soothes me, it's unfair that Xiao gets to keep you to himself, even if he is your lover!' you giggle at the verbatim the Hydro Yaksha always spouts everytime she drags you away from the other, with a cute yet teasing pout on her pristine face.

Those moments always has you laughing guiltily as you wave to Xiao, who only dons a gentle smile at you two's dynamic.

But she was beautiful and elegant despite her slaughtering hands, with a mind vivid and witty.

And so you find peace next to her, as both of your hands weave cloth into apparels to calm your minds. She had always been an avid fan of stitching and knitting even her own clothes, the only reason you knew how to weave the needle was because of her incessant teachings. Right now she knits a sleeve of beautiful patterns while you took on the duty to make a wooly scarf. Jueyun Karst is cold.

"How are you faring, dear? I have heard you and Xiao-" your hands paused at the implications, "-were witness to the passing of the Yaksha Indarias. Changes are glaring among that of the Conqueror of Demons, but you are a special case who is not under the influence of the karmic binds."

Her cold blue gaze seem to pierce your soul unintentionally and you couldn't bring yourself to look upon them.

You gulped and ceased on finishing the blanket to look at her own work. It was pretty. Tiring and fearful, not just for yourself, but for her too. And especially Xiao.

She holds you close in a soft embrace as you poured your honest confessions; it felt unfair for them to suffer like this, driven to self-destruction or to eternal agony. Menogias strokes your hair affectionately as she reassures your worries.

After all, they knew their oath would come to this.

And they still honored their duties to protect Liyue, for both the mortals and the realm of the Adepti.

"H-How about you?" You sniffled, looking up at her now gentle gaze. "Have you been feeling well? I don't want you to be destroyed by your own mind too."

The Yaksha's gracious smile parts after a pause to finally reply, when a glint from the side suddenly interrupted your peace-

azure pupils dilated upon recognition;

your body flies back upon her powerful push;

blood spurs from her right thigh as a jagged pillar of rock pierces through;

your back and hitting the cliff's compact ground as your vision swims.

No, no, no, no, you recognize that glow even if it was similar to another. Your body whimpers as you struggle to get up, rolling to your side to see the inevitable— the floating silhouette of the Geo Yaksha raises his arm where an orb glows over it, a single eye glows from his shadow...

The last you saw was the flash of neons and black before the world was engulfed by a blinding light.

The next thing you know you were desperately trying not to puke as you cradled the mawled and still bleeding corpse of Menogias, weakly patting her cheeks as your desperate attempts to wake her- to convince yourself that she was still alive. That the spears of stones impaled through numerous part of her body was nonexistent.

Behind you Xiao flicks his head to the side as his mask disperses. His jade spear dripping with blood as her gentle eyes hardened as it squeezes out the tears.

"(Y/N)," your wails turned into whimpers and hiccups, loose arms wrapping around your waist as Xiao pulls you away from the bloody mess. You didn't have the spirit to protest, your eyes still trained on the deceased Yaksha's face as you wept in your lover's arms.

A familiar censer that wasn't there before hangs by his waist.

And when the pain didn't make you weep anymore, a beautifully woven sleeve of blue and clouds adorn his left arm. Those who live after a millenia would not be aware of a reminiscent and deep scar hidden beneath it.

"I was not aware you were out of your domain," the moment he landed, a firm hand grasps your waist to keep you steady on the balcony's railings. Where you're currently perched on, precariously.

You were still unused to the purple cloth that flows behind him. But it matches the wind that comes with him, and the beautiful clashes of colors that makes up who he is now. He was not reminiscent of the red gentleness that he was 2000 years ago, but a teal shadow that lingers at the edges of your vision as a blur.

"I wanted to thank you for purging the malignant monsters that haunted my domain by the cavern," your gaze falls away from the moon as you swing your legs up and over, turning to face the Inn and him yet still remaining seated on the railing.

His eyes were hostile, not at all indicative of the lightness it had long ago. Chest covered in white, and the many memorabilias that dangle with him. Xiao's hands rests on the railing by your side as your fingertip traces the Vajra hanging by his neck, chunky to pointy; Pervases, the name leaves your lips in a whisper.

A guttural growl leaves him in intensity that had you reeling yet still worried for him. Behind his lidded eyes were pure hurt from the fear you conveyed, but he shook his head at all the thoughts that invades. Xiao lets loose a tired yet mocking laugh, "I just remembered something unpleasant."

Before he can turn back to gaze at your ethereal form, you've thrown your arms around his head to pull him against your chest. Your grip and uneven heartbeat alerted him of your will to not cry at his misfortune; such sympathy is wasted on him, yet he wraps his arms around you close in a gentleness that once again reflects his deepest trait.

"...your blessings, not your flaws."

At the sound of your familiar lyrics, as if with a mind of its own, the tension on his shoulders drop immediately into your warmth.

"You've got it all, you lost your mind in the sound;

There's so much more, you can reclaim your crown;

You're in control, rid of the monsters inside your head;

Put all your faults to bed."

Urged the strokes of your hand on his head, the voices quiet into almost nothingness. The Conqueror of Demons smiles again.

"You can be king again."

To the realm of the Adepti and those who knows even the slightest of him, it was nothing to debate about when it is claimed that you were the real reason that the golden-winged king, the Conqueror of Demons— that Xiao still exists today.

If you recognize the song 🤝 big sad

@moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie @lehra @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @lilydewi22 @yellowflowre @traveler-lumine @nonniechan @creation-magician @hanniejji @gojos-baby @just-some-stars @volleybloop @kookieyachi @xiaophilia @bunniesrorange @anormalguyreader @scarletroseneko

#genshin impact x reader #Xiao x reader #genshin impact Xiao #exile.flower #Angst #Fluff #segcy #Xiao² #I have given in to the temptation #gender neutral #xiao genshin impact #sojourner special

632 notes · View notes

buildmeafairytale · 3 years

Text

Demon Boyfriends: Elow &Siphorus

Suprise! I wrote something! What’s better than one demon boyfriend, you ask? Two demon boyfriends, duh. I started this literal months ago, and I’m not going to lie, it's very self indulgent and porny. My praise kink is clear and in full swing. I was going to make one of the characters a hard core brat but he turned soft, what can I say. Anyways, I hope you guys like this! This is a link to my Ko-Fi, everything is appreciated but nothing is expected. <3

Life has been going great for you. Too great, really. You landed a well paying job in a cute small town named Talon Valley. You found the cottage of your dreams in the forest a few miles out of town. It was perfectly desolate and had a garden already set up in the back, as well as shelves that will work perfectly to store your potions. You already picked a great altar space, as well. It was your first time living alone, and you were excited to finally practice your craft in peace.

Except there was no peace, and you soon discovered you were not alone. At first, the misplaced items didn’t phase you. You were still unpacking and you really didn’t know where you set things most of the time anyway. Only after the first couple weeks when things were supposed to be in their places, did you start to notice.

You were a witch, sure. But that didn’t mean you weren’t easily spooked. You didn’t want to make things worse, so instead of doing a cleanse that could anger something stronger than you, you did a few charms and protection spells on yourself. That did nothing to stop the tiny torments. If anything, they increased. Not only were several potions moved, but they were mixed together haphazardly. Then your blinds would open after you had closed them, or your fridge would be left cracked. All harmless things, but knowing someone or something else was doing this was enough to have you constantly on edge. You just wanted to relax, dammit!

You never thought of this side of living alone. During the day, you were living in a beautiful cottage in the lush green forest, but at night it felt as though you were in a haunted cabin in the woods. You really couldn’t take it anymore. You had cried and whimpered all night when you felt you were being watched, and by the time the sun rose you had resolved to deal with this.

You gathered some materials and made your way out of the house. After all, a summoning spell required a lot of concentration and you certainly wouldn't be able to do it in there. You found a nice clearing not too far from your home, and set up. You lit a few candles, did a few incantations, and waited. You were about to give up when, in a puff of smoke, a demon appeared. They were crouched down with blue flames dancing around them, but even still they seemed massive.

As the demon uncurled and stood himself upright, it seemed as though more and more limbs appeared. You counted six arms coming out of him, his whole body a gradient of black to white. His pitch black fingertips seemed as though they were covered in soot, and as you got closer to the middle of his body his skin was more and more milky white. Hooved feet clap on the ground. He had dark eyes and horns like a ram’s curled on the side of their head, with long black hair in between, and he towered over you.

He lowered himself and took your shaking hand in one of his large ones, his pure white eyes staring at you.

“It is lovely to meet you, my master,” his voice is like velvet, and he flashes you his sharp teeth at you before placing a gentle kiss on the back of your hand. “They call me Siphorus. I cannot wait to be of service to you.”

You let out a bleating laugh, unsure what to make of this. You weren’t expecting such a large and powerful demon to come; you weren’t even out of the broom closet and this kind of thing should take years of real practice.

“Um, master?”

He chuckled under his breath, “Yes, master,” he rose, “You summoned me and I am under your command. I promise to fulfil anything you ask of me.”

You ignored his suggestive promise. Smooth as he may be, you were out in the middle of the woods for a more important reason. “You can just call me Lily if you’d like? And well, I sort of need your help with something?”

“Like I said, I am under your command, master,” he prompts you, a clawed finger lifting your chin up.

“There’s something in my house,” you tell him, clearing your throat and putting some space in between the two of you. “Something spooky and it...watches me I think. I don’t know how to make it go away by myself.”

“A powerful witch such as yourself?” he frowns “No matter, I shall play the role of your gallant protector.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Honestly, who talks like that? For someone who looks so formidable, he’s a bit on the odd side. At least he is going to help you.

He starts towards your house, although you aren’t sure how he knows the way.

“Ah yes, I can feel his presence here.” Siphorus opens the door for you with a flourishing gesture.

As soon as one of his hooved feet lands on the other side of your doorway, chaos breaks out. Cabinets are slamming, furniture is being overturned, and the lights are flickering.

“She is MY master! GET OUT!” A voice yells out as lightbulbs start to explode. You let out a scream as glass flies at you, covering your face and burying it in the stomach of the demon by your side. With a wave of his hand Siphorus halts the glass midair, something you probably could have done if you hadn’t been so panicked. You step away from him once again, your face hot. You try to convince yourself it’s from his inner hellfire, but you aren’t too sure.

Siphorus clicks his tongue in a disapproving manner. “Now now, let us not make a mess of our sweet Lilians home, hm?”

An angry hissing sound responds back, things slamming and shaking but nothing as messy.

“This is quite the tantrum. Honestly, show yourself and be gone!” Siphorus calls out, and a figure starts to appear.

White hot flames spiral out in your living room and from within it steps another demon. This one is almost as tall as Siphorus, but not quite. He is lanky, and his skin textured, light colored but red seemed to be pumping underneath, as if it was scar tissue. This one only has one pair of arms, and has no hair. His eyes are cat-like and stare straight at Siphorus, flames around him roaring even stronger.

“GET OUT!” the figure yells, and you flinch into Siphorus once again.

The flames suddenly go out, and you turn to see the other demon looking at you now.

“What,” he paused, swallowing thickly. “What is going on? Did you...find a new demon?” He asked, his voice sounding distraught. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You stand there confused at his words. He doesn’t sound scary at all, if anything he sounds heartbroken. The fear melts away, and you take a step away from Siphorus.

“What do you mean a new demon? This one belong to you?” Siphorus asks, eyebrow raised. You just shake your head, and he heaves a dramatic sigh.

“Of course I belong to her. I became attached to her weeks ago and she brought me home. She was walking in the forest and I felt her energy. It was lonely so I came with,” he hissed these words out, eyes turned to slits.

“She was scared and I had to keep her safe! She was making protection charms and satchels and sticking them everywhere.”

“From you, you nimwit! She didn’t even know you were in the house!” Siphorus admonishes him, “You should have at least presented yourself!”

His face falls further and the demon places himself on one of your dining room chairs, dwarfing it.

“But, she never asked for me? I was never summoned to do her bidding, or had any reason to show myself. I just thought she knew I was here, and would ask me if she needed anything. Since she didn’t ask, I just watched over her.” he sniffles, and you get a knot in your throat.

A pitiful “Oh,” passes through your lips. You move over to him, letting him scoop you onto his lap.

“I just wanted to be a good demon, I’d never had a master that was such a nice witch,” he whines high in the back of his throat, nosing at your hair. You coo at him the way you would a scared puppy, doting on him with attention and sweet pets on his scarred and hairless head.

You then hear a scoff from Siphorus, both you and the new demon turning to look at him.

“What?”

“The two of you are absolutely pitiful, do you know that?” Siphorus asks, baffled.

You stay cuddled up, “Well, wait - what is your name?” you look up into his eyes, his fangs pushing into his soft looking lips.

“Elow, master,” he replies into your hair, still trying to get as close as possible to you.

“Elow, it’s nice to meet you,” you tell him, giving him a sweet smile he readily returns. “Well I’m absolutely fine with Elow staying. And I don’t think we’re pitiful.”

Siphorus sputters. “Well, I suppose we have a bit of a problem, then. You summoned me to get rid of him, and I cannot leave until your summons are completed.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I just don’t feel good about making him leave now, Siphorus.” You tell him, and feel Elows long arms wrap even tighter around you.

“Yes, Siphorus. Please don’t make me leave now,” Elow asks him, eyes wide.

You assure Siphorus you will help him in any way that you can.

“You can stay here until we figure out how to let you go back, of course. I- do you sleep?” you ask them. “I can get some rooms ready for you!” And you scurry off, hoping that the two demons get along.

You aren’t sure how to act now that you have both demons staying in your home. Firstly, you layout some ground rules as far as Elow touching your potions and leaving the fridge door open. He looks so sad after your gentle scolding, so you take some time to comfort him as well. The two of you snuggle up on your small couch and watch a movie. He’s informed you that he has been starved of contact for a long while, and he basks in your touch. You enjoy it as well, and his warmth lulls you to sleep. When the two of you wake, you are covered in a blanket. It’s soft and black, and not one you had seen before. It smelled slightly of fire.

The three of you had settled into a routine. On the days you went to work, you came home to a clean house, and a meal. It was all so domestic, and occasionally one or both of your demons would produce a human glamour and come with you into town. They always kept on sunglasses, though, because they couldn’t change their eyes. You doubt the inhabitants of Talon Valley would mind. Siphorus had informed you that most of the people living here were some kind of supernatural being. As a witch, you fit right in.

So well, in fact, that you had befriended another witch already. She was much more confident in her abilities, and had already figured out a solution to Siphorus being stuck with you.

Coming back from a visit with her, you had mixed feelings. You had a solution, sure, but you had grown so fond of your demon. You didn’t want to let him go, and already felt hollow just thinking about him departing. You creak the front door open while lost in thought and were unprepared for what you were seeing. Standing in shock, you take in the scene before you.

Through the doorway, you can see Elow on top of Siphorus. His head is thrown back, and high pitched moans leave him. You can make out the deep bass of Siphorus encouraging him as Elow bounces on his cock, thoroughly impaled. Siphous is leaning back on one set of hands, with the others on either side of Elow’s hips and face. Elow’s own hardness bobs between his thighs, long and thick. It’s textured like the rest of him, but redder. You feel your own face get hot, and the gasp that leaves your lips is what finally catches your demons’ attention.

Elow is embarrassed and won’t look at you, trying to hide behind a tangle of sooty arms. Siphorus just smirks at you, taking in your doe-eyed appearance. You feel as if your heartbeat is between your legs.

“Isn’t our Elow so beautiful,” he draws out, running his hand along the other demon’s flank. Elow shudders, still fully seated, and you nod. “So beautiful, so good for me. For us,” he purrs into Elow’s ear, his milky eyes still locked on yours. This time Elow actually moans, weather that be from the thickness spearing him open or the words alone, you are unsure. Siphorus beacons you closer, and you feel as though you are under a spell.

With a touch of your magic, the door is shut and locked. Your feet carry you closer to them, and Elow peaks at you, somehow both demure and debauched. He isn’t much smaller than Siphorus, really, but he looks tiny like this. He whispers a “Hi,” into your hand, kissing it gently. You return the sentiment, caressing his face. He squirms and whimpers, and you see his cock jump. “Oh, honey,” you coo, and pull him in for a sweet kiss. One of Siphorus’s hands tangles in your hair, while the other of the set is on Elow’s head, encouraging you two. He encourages you vocally too, his pleased throaty moans making your kiss turn feverish.

“Join us, master,” Siphorus implores you, a hand wandering down your thigh.

Behind the lust you feel for them, a sense of nervous insecurity rises when you go to take your clothes off. You pull off your outerwear, taking your time. Your demons must sense your hesitance, as they pull you between their intertwined forms, Elow at your back.

“Shh master, just focus on my hands,” Elow tells you, ever so sweet. His hands move along your breasts, kneading the flesh there. One rises up, covering your throat. He doesn’t apply any pressure, just holds his hand there. His thumb comes up to brush along your lips, and you take it into your mouth without a conscious thought, sucking and wrapping your tongue around it, an action that draws moans from both of your demons.

“Do not try to hide from us,” Siphorus’s voice is but an echoing growl, teeth pressing into your ear. “We can smell you, master. The air is thick with your want, let us serve you.” From where you rest on his torso, you can feel his hips moving, along with Elow’s hardness pressing against your lower back. You whimper around the thumb in your mouth, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Elow removes his hands, and you let out a pleading moan, not wanting them to stop.

“You have to tell us, master. Tell us what you want, and it’s yours, please,” Elow says, his voice a breath of a whisper.

“Yes, darling, just tell us,” Siphorus echoes the sentiment, and you feel dizzy with want.

“Please,” you breath out, “Please touch me. Take me,” you plead to them.

No sooner do the words leave your lips their hands wrap back around you. You push your butt back onto Elow’s pulsing cock, rolling against it. He whimpers out, and you can only imagine how full he must feel. You use your magic to take your clothes off, not wanting to break the contact with your lovers. Feeling them against your skin is worth any nervousness you may have been feeling. Siphorus captures your mouth in a kiss, and although you may be his master, it is clear who is in control. The press of his teeth to your lips has your hips jerking, and you’re sure they can both feel how wet you are perched on Siphorus’s muscular abdomen.

Siphorus’s hips are moving harder now, meeting Elow’s bouncing ass. A pair of Siphorus’s hands wrap around your hips and in one fluid motion, hovers you on top of his face. Your hands find his horns, steading yourself. He makes a loud, wounded noise at your grip, and Elow moans out at the particularly hard thrust that follows. You take that as a sign to loosen your hold, and pack his reaction away in the back of your mind for another day. You then look down and see Siphorus’s tongue, so very long and pink, seeking out your heat.

He suddenly growls, and flips you around so that you’re facing Elow, and his tongue presses into you. It stretches you and you feel it press against your walls, long enough that it can still curve to press to your clit. The sensations are overwhelming, and you cannot help but rock against them.

You get to watch Elow being fucked, and you meet his mouth in a frenzied kiss. Both of you are being held tight by Siphorus’s hands, being pleasured by him. The hands around Elow are thrusting him up and down, and the peek you get of Siphorus’s member has you clenching harder around his tongue. He laps up the wetness spilling from you as if he is starved, the noises coming from him sound as if he is tasting salvation. Elow acts much the same, drinking from your mouth as if it is the finest wine.

You feel all too much and not enough, and you wrap a hand around Elow’s cock. It’s hot and heavy in your grip, and Elow turns to putty, begging.

“Please don’t stop, please master,” he whines, high in his throat. Incoherent noises keep coming, and you assure him you won’t stop, pressing yourself further onto Siphorus.

“Not gonna stop honey, wanna make you feel good. Such a sweet demon, aren’t you? My sweet demon.” You praise him and his movements turn jerky. The noises leaving him become even more frantic and high pitched. He reaches a crescendo and spills into your hand, covering you in his thick white cum. You don’t stop until he is pulling away from your hand, a whimpering mess convulsing on your other demon's cock. Your other demon, who is now redoubling his assault against your cunt, seems close as well. You watch him tense up and with an animalistic grunt, fill up Elow with his seed. His tongue is still fucking into you, and the visual he and Elow provide is all that is needed to push you over the edge, tensing and jerking away as your climax leaves you breathless.

The three of you pull yourselves apart, you considerably more out of breath than your demons, who are much quicker to recover. Elow is behind you while Siphorus leans upright against the couch, stretching out his many muscles and preening before you. You let your eyes rake over him, and you feel desire bubbling in your skin.

His nostrils flare, and his eyes dig into you even harder, predatory. You feel your heart pound and you’re sure he can smell your want, just as he said.

“Oh, Lily, you think we are done with you?” Siphorus asks you, reaching over to tuck a sweat soaked strand of hair away from your face.

“I hope not,” you whisper out, ignoring how hot you feel your face getting. You gnaw on your lip, and feel Elow stretch his arms out. You lean into them, already feeling breathless.

“C’mere master, please? Can I have you this way?” He asks, tucking you to his front. One hand moves to rest on your throat while the other goes to your leg. You nod eagerly, letting him hoist your leg up as he nudges his member against your opening. He ruts against you before seating himself inside in one lazy thrust. All of your nerve endings are ablaze, and your hands wrap around his forearm, keeping his hand pressed against your neck. He keeps a slow pace, and molasses runs through your veins. The moans that leave you sound desperate, and you watch as Siphorus fists his cock, his other hands tweaking his nipples and moving up and down his body.

You can feel the magic he is putting off, and it’s as if his hands are touching you from where he is in front of you. He is content with watching this time, it seems.

“Deeper, Elow. Give it to her deeper.” Not just watching then, apparently. He is giving orders as well. You moan out as Elow follows his direction and presses deeper into you, an eager “Yes'' leaving his lips. A phantom hand, courtesy of Siphorus, is circling your clit. The slow but persistent pleasure had you throbbing and jerking back into Elows arms, the two of you overstimulated together in the best of ways. More phantom hands ghost over you and go to Elow, who lets out a whorish moan at the feeling.

“Good boy, just like that,” Siphorus praises and nods.

You whimpered and met his milky gaze, “You too darling, you’re such a good girl for us. Such a good little master, aren’t you?” he asks, his smirk downright predatory.

His words pull a noise out of you that you didn’t think you were capable of making. Between his words, phantom hands, and Elow’s deep movements massaging your inner walls, you don’t last long. You feel yourself tense again, sparks flying through your veins as you milk the cock nestled deep inside you. Siphorus is still talking to the two of you, praising you though you can’t make out the words. Elow finishes too, locking himself inside you as he fills you with his seed. He grunts and makes breathy sounds into your neck as he continues to fill you.The warmth of it has aftershocks rippling through you, and you lean your head back against his shoulder as the two of you enjoy your afterglow. He slips from you minutes later, and you feel his plentiful cum running down the inside of your thighs. You should feel a bit grossed out, but all you feel is sated and claimed.

Siphorus must have finished with you as well, since you feel tendrils of his magic cleaning you up. They run up and down your body, prompting you to further melt into them. Your eyes peek open and he is there, smiling and pressing his lips to your forehead. “Shh, let me get us comfortable,” he tells you, before conjuring up a nest of blankets and cushions for you, all with a subtle fiery scent. You and Elow don’t even have to move, all the better since you still very much feel boneless. If Elow’s soft and content noises are anything to go by, he feels the same. Siphorus nuzzles himself in, the three of you tangled together.

“May I admit something, my dearests?” he asks us, answered only with a humming affirmative.

“I- Well, I didn’t have to stay. I’ve been free to leave but I just really, really wanted to stay.” You had not heard him sound so vulnerable before, and you squeeze one of his hands. You’re surprised, but not upset by the news. If anything, it lifts a weight off of your shoulders.

“Pft, tell me something I did not already know,” Elow teases him, his eyes still closed and a smile on his face.

Siphorus sputters, taken aback, but it turns into hearty laughter.

“I’m glad you stayed,” you tell him, kissing him in your half - asleep state.

The blankets and content hum of magic in the air lull you to sleep, surrounded by your loves.

817 notes · View notes

1kook · 4 years

Text

dreamy

—pjm x (f) reader

summary; You try to not let it get to you, but Jimin is so cool and you want him to be your boyfriend so bad. warnings; ANGST lol, fwb, reader is very :(( rating; mature (18+) bc tiny smut lol misc; small smut scene, a happy ending <3 wc; 2.5k

notes; i have to post on #JIMIN’s bday or else i cannot live with myself anyway here’s me trying to fit an entire novella plot line in less than 5k words clap for me except maybe don't bc its not proofread anyway hbd jimin <3

Jimin is a nice guy, but you doubt he’d make a nice boyfriend. He fucks you hard and fast, just as you like, but hardly goes out of his way to sprinkle in any other requests. He’s got a one track mind, doesn’t dwell too long on what you say or how you’re feeling. Doesn’t matter because he’s just supposed to be a fuck buddy, the hot guy you met at a party, so you don’t let it phase you. But, well. Jimin is dreamy.

Sometimes he holds your hand while he eats you out and it sends your thoughts into a frenzy, makes your heart pound a little too fast to brush it off as just arousal. He’s got this gorgeous smile, plush lips framing pearly teeth, and when he flashes it your way, it makes your knees weak. Tells you you’re pretty when he picks you up from class, always holds your hand on the way to his place for your routine fuck. Cute and nice like an angel, but just like an angel, he hardly gives a shit about anyone’s feelings but his own.

He laughs when you ask him to hang out that weekend.

“What, like a date?” he snorts, bare chest glistening from his post-fuck exertion. You're pressed against his side now, circling his pretty brown nipple with your finger. “That’s corny.”

You try to not let it get to you, but Jimin is so cool and you want him to be your boyfriend so bad. “Yeah, silly right,” you murmur, ear pressed to his heart. It’s calming and soothing, a slow thrum that contrasts with your own racing heart.

He’s not one for dates or for romantic things like that. But neither is he some player, a cheater, a two-timer. You can count the number of times he’s slept with someone who wasn’t you in your weird fuck buddy relationship, and all four of those had been when you first started sleeping together and only when you had been out of town. You’re no saint either, so you try to understand. He was just horny, liked getting his dick wet, and sometimes he couldn’t wait for you. Understandable, you tell yourself, but your heart hurts a little bit when he begins snoring without really answering your question.

See the thing is, you really like Jimin. It’s been a little over a year now since you’ve met, so you’ve had plenty of time to learn all about him. He doesn’t like pancakes for breakfast, prefers them for lunch actually, and laughs when you tell him that’s weird. He’s got this really dorky laugh, something between a bell and a whistle— it depends on the situation. Sometimes, Jimin likes when you play with his hair, and other times he doesn’t. He’s a sweet boy, you know he is, so why won’t he settle down?

You hate to attribute it to some past trauma, some “my girlfriend broke my heart when I was seventeen” mess, but the more time that passes you begin to believe it’s true. Jimin was a tough nut to crack, and the longer this drags on, the longer he ignores your feelings, you begin to doubt you will ever see them fulfilled.

Maybe you should end this now before it’s too late.

You don’t stay for breakfast the next morning, simply kiss him goodbye at the door like always. He’s older than you, about two years, so he doesn’t go to school anymore, just chills at home all weekend. “I’ll see you soon?” he grins, low-lidded eyes tracking the movement of your mouth as you bid him adieu. You never give him a solid response, figure a guy like Jimin will forget about you soon enough.

Then, suddenly, it’s been two weeks and he doesn’t reach out. Yeah it hurts, but it’s better than having confessed to him and losing him all at once. You’d rather this ending than the one where he terribly rejects you, breaks your heart into a million pieces, and throws you away. Still, it hurts.

Jimin was so cool. He was smart and confident, had a snappy sort of attitude that he liked to use now and then. He could be mean in bed, lick your cunt until you cried and call you a stupid girl when he wanted to. But that same tongue had snapped at a guy who was trying to pressure you into bed with him at a party. That first night you met, where you had sillily followed him home after his dashing intervention, you had thought it would be nothing more. Just a fling, just a fuck.

But then he was in your bed and in your head, twinkling eyes and cocky grin trailing after you everyday. He was so pretty and so suave, made you feel good even when he was being mean. But you suppose most cocky men like Jimin are like that. They know they don’t disappoint, even when they’re not really trying.

Jimin doesn’t call or text. You don’t see his car pull up outside your campus anymore. He’s gone and that’s that. You cry a little (see: a lot) and pretend you’re over him. You definitely don’t think about his soft laughter or his hands on your chest. Nope.

So that ends.

Or so you think.

Your friends say you’re mopey and sad, too down for someone who wasn’t even your boyfriend. It’s true, which sucks, but they honor your admittance by taking you out to a bar that night. It’s supposed to be chill and relaxing, just some drinks with the girls to soothe your aching heart. But the name of the bar reminds you of something, of someone you can’t reach anymore, and you don’t even know why. You’ve never been here before, never even knew this place existed. But everything about it brings you back to Jimin, like you’re in his space now, and you’re unsure why.

It reminds you of his laugh, his smile, to the point you swear you can hear it, right beside you, down the bar, to your left—

He waves.

There’s this look he used to give you every time he picked you up from your last class, this mix between adoration and lust that made your skin tingle with excitement. It’s not there now, in fact, it’s replaced with the complete opposite. It’s, like, the meanest look he can muster, something akin to a scowl. He smiles, but it’s so plastic-y and fake, it makes your head hurt. He’s so obviously unimpressed with you, probably because you ghosted him before he could ghost you. Maybe his pride is hurt and looking at you grosses him out. Maybe he just hates you.

Either way, eleven pm rolls around and you’re crying in the bathroom. Your friends are out on the floor having fun and singing karaoke. They think you’ve gone inside because you got your period, because that’s what you’ve told them. You don’t know how to explain that your ex who isn’t really your ex is out there looking at you like you’re a piece of gum stuck under his shoe. They’ve never even met Jimin. Why? Because he wasn’t your boyfriend. Who meets their friend’s fuck buddy? No one.

You sniffle, press a balled up tissue against your eyes in a feeble attempt to save your makeup. The bar isn’t that small, but neither is it huge. There’s only a few bathrooms in the back, and you’ve been hogging one of them for some time now. Someone knocks on the door, and you don’t even get the chance to ward them off before the crappy knob jingles and the door bursts open.

“Come on,” he grumbles, “you’re not the only one who’s gotta piss—“

He pauses, meets your eye through the mirror in surprise. “I’m sorry,” you blubber, hurriedly washing your hands in an effort to avoid his gaze. Jimin lingers at the door, which has long since fallen shut, and watches you with the eyes of a hawk. Your hands tremble and shake, fumble over the towel dispenser three times before you’re hastily making your escape. “Sorry,” you mutter again, head downcast as you move around him for the door.

Just as it cracks open, the music from outside filtering in, he slams it shut with a flat palm. You flinch, close in on yourself as he steps behind you. “What’re you doing here, doll?” he murmurs, deep yet careful. Tentative. “You don’t like bars.”

You know you don’t like bars. You didn’t know he knew that. “I’m with some friends,” you explain, jump when a hand touches your shoulder. “I— I’ll leave soon.”

A second attempt for the door is thwarted by Jimin. “Don’t,” he startles, breath heavy against your ear. “Don’t leave again…” he sighs, forehead against your shoulder. And then, quietly, “why did you leave me?”

Your heart syncs up with the music outside, thunders in your ears as you purse your lips. You don’t want to talk about it now, don’t want to confess to these emotions that drown you. Especially not when he’ll never understand nor will he ever care. It’s best to leave it as is, you convince yourself, slowly shrugging him off.

“We don’t want the same things,” you reply, eyes burning with the need to cry like a baby. But it’ll weaken your argument, make you look like the sentimental girl you know he won’t like. “It wouldn’t work anyway.”

The hand on your shoulder jerks you around, makes a gasp catch in your throat when he crowds you against the door. He’s got that same glare on from before, the one he had sent you across the bar earlier, and it makes your lower lip tremble when it’s this close. “You never asked me what I wanted,” he hisses.

It is then that you realize it isn't anger or disgust, but frustration that paints his features. It’s pure, unadulterated confusion and distress on his pretty face, furrowed brows and narrowed eyes pointed your way. You don’t know what it means, don’t know what he wants. “I,” you choke, weakly covering your face with your hand before he can see you crumble. “I just wanted you.”

Jimin deflates, steps closer until his body is pressed against yours, hands on your shoulders. “And you have me, doll,” he murmurs, bumps his nose against yours. “Always have.”

You shake your head, choke on a sob that bubbles up your throat. “No, not like that,” you stress, losing yourself in the emotions you spent so much time bottling up. “I wanted more.”

Jimin shushes you, guides your head into the crook of his neck where you paint his skin in dark mascara tears. “Is this about the date?” he sighs, patting your head gently.

“It’s more than just the date,” you cry, fists curling into the material of his shirt until it rumples beyond repair. He doesn’t understand.

Jimin nods, let’s you cry and sob until you’re feeling better and someone else is pounding at the door, yelling at you two to get a proper room. You don’t want a room, you only want his heart.

He takes you home again, helps you out of your shoes at the door because you’re still sensitive and quiver like a leaf when you walk. His bedroom is familiar, smells like him and his detergent. You miss it so much, want to savor it once more. Something in your gut says this is the last time, this is just Jimin getting one last fuck out of you before he really abandons you.

So you cry when he sits down on the edge of the bed. He hasn’t even said anything, hasn’t even taken his socks off yet, but you’re already a mess.

And of course he’s there to catch you, tugs you between his legs to look up at you as if you’ve hung the stars in the sky. “Don’t cry,” he whispers, reaching up to brush away your tears. But it’s not your fault that he looks like that right before he’s going to break your heart.

He’s so cool, even when you’re falling apart in his hands. “You don’t want me,” you sniffle, let him guide you onto his lap. “You just want to fuck and that’s it.”

Jimin leans his forehead against yours, warm breath washing over your skin. “I never said that,” he murmurs. “We’ve been over this.”

You huff. “Well you never said you did either,” you snap, rubbing at your eyes.

You cry and cry some more, until your sobs subside and you’re left with the hiccups afterwards. Jimin maneuvers you beside him, lets your hair spill across the sheets as he lays you down. They smell just like him, make your head spin when he kisses your cheek softly. “I want you,” he confesses. “I want this.”

You shake your head vehemently. “No, you don’t,” you sniff, but you’re not so sure. It’s what you’ve been telling yourself for the longest. Hearing him say otherwise sounds weird, even if he’s saying what you want to hear. “You don’t.”

Jimin catches your hand in his, pins it to the mattress. “I want you to be mine,” he adds, swallows your cries of denial with his lips. He kisses softly, and for the first time, it feels like he’s paying attention to you. Not your body or your lust, but your heart. “Had me feeling like shit when you didn’t come back. Like I lost something big.”

You still cry when he kisses down your neck, over your chest. His hands pull your clothes off, carefully like you’re a present for him to unwrap. Those plush lips you love so much drown you in kisses, over your tummy and your mound, until they’re buried between your cunt. “You’re mine,” he husks out, hand entwined with yours.

His eyes are dark from down there, long lashes blinking up at you as he dips his tongue in the places you crave him most. It brings you to a shuddering end, has you whimpering his name into the empty air until your toes are curling and you’re coming against his mouth. Jimin has never shied away from you, and doesn’t know, sits up with a hazy look in his eyes as he wipes his face with the back of his hand.

Jimin wastes no time undressing, pushes off that sexy jacket until his lithe body is coming into view, thick thighs and lean abdomen. He slides right into you, holds your knees to your chest as he fucks you like never before. It’s slow and sensual, makes you shiver when he says your name in that low register of his. “Don’t leave again,” he whimpers, cock throbbing between your walls. He’s desperate today, ruts like you’ll slip right between his fingertips. It’s funny because you're the same way, clinging onto his shoulders until you’re practically glued together.

You come and so does Jimin. He pants against your ear, feels so warm and heavy on top of you. He doesn’t say much more that night, just plays with your hair. But he asks you on a date, mentions something about a carnival. “Yes,” you respond right away, because, well.

Jimin was dreamy. Maybe he’d be a good boyfriend.

#bangtanhq #networkbangtan #jimin smut #park jimin smut #pjm #park jimin #jimin x reader #jimin x reader smut #park jimin x reader #park jimin x reader smut #bts smut #bangtan smut #mine

1K notes · View notes

kcatta-wodahs · 4 years

Text

MC Who Does Not Fear Death x OM! Demon Brothers

Or maiming, or apparently any other consequences. You’ve walked into this situation with absolutely no filter and no fear. Time to tear down every structure of Devildom society.

Lucifer

You look at him with a withering stare when he tries to intimidate you into behaving.

“I was summoned out of my trashy apartment to this place, where literally anyone could snap me like a twig on accident. I’m just working on the assumption that I’m already dead.”

He sternly looks at you. “You’re under my protection during your time here. No harm will come to you.”

You snort derisively, which visibly irritates him. “Don’t worry about it. I won’t come back to haunt you if it happens.”

As you continue through your life in Devildom he keeps calling you out for meddling and all that, like usual, and he HATES that you literally *do not care* when he threatens you.

Like HE knows that he wouldn’t hurt Diavolo’s transfer student but YOU are supposed to be AFRAID of him dammit.

His frustration at this ends up turning into a form of respect. You’re about the only person who will stand up to him, and tbh like you’re so fucking fragile but you’ll yell at him all day? That takes guts. Annoying guts. But you’ve got guts.

But also STOP IT. He has enough stress in his life and now he’s constantly terrified that you’ve decided it’s a great idea to adopt a baby balrog

Which you did once. He’s just afraid that “Flamin Hot Cheeto” is going to come back since you somehow managed to imprint on it.

despite the fact that the BABY could easily tear your arms off on accident

Not to mention he gets the flack for EVERY SINGLE ONE of these following stories. You stress him out so much. Please. Please, stop.

He’s almost to the point of begging. The Avatar of Pride is three steps away from either locking you away for the rest of the year or begging on his knees for you to calm down.

But you know you’d find a way out if he locked you up so no worries. It’ll be a good challenge.

Mammon

“Well you WON’T be dead because it’s my job to protect you! Are you doubting the Great Mammon?!”

Stupid human. Yeah, you’re fragile and weak, but that’s why HE’S your bodyguard now, and there’s no way in hell (lol) that he would let you die on his watch.

Lucifer would kill him.

You welcome the challenge, and he thinks it’s funny at first but quickly becomes a flustered mother hen.

“NO, we are NOT going out to Madam Scream’s at 3am! Do ya know what kinda CREEPS are out there at 3am?!”

And you sneak out the fucking window.

He has had more heart attacks in the past week than he has had in the last 100 years of life.

He starts agreeing to your ridiculous adventures JUST because then he can actually keep an eye on you.

He adores the chaos of the laugh that bursts from you every time you narrowly escape death.

He HATES how often you have to NARROWLY ESCAPE DEATH. So he will never tell you.

He almost doesn’t have time for his own shenanigans anymore, because all his time is taken up by trying to make sure you stay alive.

And you’ve figured out that if you turn *any* of your ideas into a money-making one, he will join you whole-heartedly.

So you bribe him because what’s money to you anymore anyway?

Leviathan

I mean he doesn’t leave his room much, so tbh he probably just gets texts from you that make him want to scream.

‘hey uh levi say if someone were to hypothetically be stuck in a succubus’ devil basement to become an unwilling sacrifice to asmo what would that person, hypothetically, do?’

‘probably die’ is usually all he sends back

You always come back, because he always sends a text to the other brothers. In that case Asmo came to rescue you himself and scold the succubus.

You become the friend that he makes funny throwing-shade reddit posts about. (Devvit? Devil reddit? Eh??)

‘Levi so this has nothing to do with anything but is there a cure for a dangerously potent ‘always win at rock-paper-scissors' curse? Asking for a friend’

‘Friend is being held hostage tho so maybe be quick about a response’

He didn’t even know that kind of curse existed. None of them did. What the fuck did you do.

How did you get taken captive by playing rock paper scissors?

He doesn’t know. Nobody does. He expects the play-by-play so he can recommend it as a new anime to his favorite producers.

Somehow your chaotic plans end up with stories almost as great as TSL.

Beelzebub

He physically carries you around.

He’s like “fuck this you can’t get into trouble if I’m holding you.”

If Beel’s on MC watching duty, he’s almost the only one who is successful, just because you physically cannot get away.

But at the same time, he is very easily bribed.

So yes, he’ll go to Madam Scream’s with you at 3am. Sounds like fun.

But he is very protective after losing someone he cares about (who you remind him of so much….) so he keeps you close when you’re out and about too.

If you start getting into a fight with some other demon he literally just takes the fight for you and wins with no trouble at all.

You like having Beel with you.

Especially finding street festivals! You’re in a whole new world and there’s a MILLION things to try. Beel is more than happy to try them with you.

But that leads to arguments about whether deadly creatures to humans are still deadly when dead.

“No, you can’t eat that it’s on fire. I know even small fires hurt humans. I’ll eat it for you.”

“That hot sauce makes every demon I know cry. You really shouldn’t buy a bottle. Please. No, don’t try it. No, that’s too much for one-- oh. Oh no.”

He forgives you as long as you don’t actually get hurt and you give him your leftovers.

Asmodeus

“If I get wrinkles because of you I promise you will never hear the end of it. I will curse you forever.”

He swears on every single one of his lovers that you have started giving him grey hairs.

GREY HAIRS, MC.

Why can’t you just settle down and let them all take care of you? You don’t have to prove anything to the other demons!

But you will. You’re living in Devildom now, and by everything unholy, you are going to live that life to its fullest extent.

He was thrilled at first when you were all for joining him at his nightclubs and parties. Now he hides every party’s date from you.

That time you almost threw yourself off a balcony to try and emulate a very drunk demon’s newest dance move.

“I need to stay TRENDY, Asmo!! I’ll be fine!!”

Ever since learning Demonus doesn’t affect humans you have challenged every single stuck-up tough boy to a drinking contest.

And every single time you win, Asmo has had to *narrowly* save you from being killed by said demon.

And you just say “he deserved it” every time.

And like, yeah okay, he probably did but YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO DIE.

Somehow, you manage to out-party Asmo.

dON’T TELL THE OTHERS but he lives for the times when you practically fall asleep on his shoulder while coming home from a rager. You may not get drunk, but when you’re sleepy, you’re so affectionate and something in his heart melts.

Satan

At first, Satan was all for the rebellious “life life with no restraints” thought process you explained to him.

I mean, he didn’t like the assumption that he and his brothers couldn’t control themselves to not accidentally kill you, but also… fair.

But he didn’t realize that this mindset followed through for EVERY demon in ANY place.

Including RAD, where old and wizened demons were *really* not used to being contradicted

Which led to you “accidentally insulting” your 5000 year old Human Studies professor by giving them a pop quiz on current memes (which they failed).

And left Satan as the one who had to make sure that said professor didn’t kill you.

And the thing is, this keeps happening.

You’ve written all over the school’s library books, pointing out every error.

You *continue* to argue with the demons who threaten to kill you when you say silly things like “No, Solomon did not learn his sorcery at Hogwarts because Hogwarts isn’t REAL.”

(Solomon, meanwhile, refutes you vehemently and seems to grow three inches taller every time you glare at him.)

Satan assures you that he values knowledge and truth and all that, but could you maybe find a less dangerous way to push it?

No can do, Satan, because you already had plans with Mammon to use a curse that writes the history of the actual Sorceric Academy that Solomon attended like 400 years all over the desks in Human Studies. It’s activated by anyone saying “Hogwarts”.

No, no, Satan, it’s brilliant, because you can’t do magic. It can’t be you who did it.

Satan, no don’t tell Lucifer.

I thought you hated him. Satan, wait.

You are the only person in the history of ever who convinces him to come to Lucifer for intervention. You wear that badge with pride and also deep, deep, bitter sadness.

Belphegor

Like, through the plot your willingness to be a thorn in anyone’s side just to get more information really works for Belphie.

He’s like all I gotta do is ask? Sweet. Yeah. Go, human.

But then when he’s all big and threatening and “im gonna kill you” and you just kind of look at him and nod like “yeah, this checks out.”

Frankly, that’s rude, MC.

And then he keeps threatening to kill you and it doesn’t even PHASE you like. You just keep listening to him rant and going “OH i think i get it now”

He liked that you were always looking for more information when he was the one pushing you around, but now?

No. Human, he is going to KILL you here, STOP ASKING QUESTIONS.

And then you do the time-travel bit, and see that he *literally has killed you in one timeline* and you just like

Shrug it off and keep talking about Lilith???????

Tbh what probably stopped him from doing it again is just that you’re fucking insane, MC

“MC, you literally just saw yourself dead in Mammon’s arms”

You wave your hand vaguely in his direction and say, “Yeah okay, but can we talk about the lack of communication in this household because it is tearing this family apart.”

What the fuck MC

When he’s back to normal, tbh he loves that side of you. He loves getting into shit when he’s not sleeping. He will 100% encourage you and be there to make sure that you *don’t* actually die again.

He’s the only one who doesn’t actually try to stop you. Who knew he was so into chaos.

But if you try to drag him to a plan when he should be sleeping he will be like Beel and literally just hold you down while he naps dammit. You brought this on yourself. He needs sleep.

#obey me #obey me!#obey me shitposts #obey me crack #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me beelzebub #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me belphegor #bast babbles #my writing #obey me headcanons #gender neutral mc #re-reading this makes me vibrate with the need to destroy things #tldr is that humans are fucked up

781 notes · View notes

theelvenhaven · 3 years

Text

Hallows Eve Preparations

Caranthir x Reader ft. Míron

1.5k words

Odhril - s. Parent

* * *

There was the sound of laughter and giggling that floated down the hall, garnering curious glances from those that passed by your room. You could scarcely contain it, with Míron laughing along with you in his cute child laughter that filled the room. Looking at him, the makeup you were trying to apply was smudged slightly as he had been so wiggly.

Hard for the five year old to sit still long enough for you to properly apply it… The humans had taught you about their custom for Hallows Eve. One where they decorated their stoops with what they called jack-o-lanterns, wore masks and costumes and make up! All supposedly to keep the dead and malevolent spirits at bay.

Yet they had spoken of it with such lightheartedness you could scarcely resist wanting to take part in it as well! The humans well enough invited you and Caranthir to join them for the festivities, they mentioned how there would be sweets and games and that Míron was welcome to join in on the fun. Many of the mortal children would be there as well partaking in the all night fun.

If it had not been for your quickness to agree to join in on the festivities, you knew your husband would have said no.

“Míron my love, I cannot keep painting your face if you are squirming in your seat.” You laughed out to the little elfling who only giggled in return, just as the door opened. Your husband stepping in with a heavy sigh, though he looked between you both with curiosity. Before you could bring your brush to apply more yellow paint to Míron’s face as a beard, he jumped up from his seat.

“Ada!! Look Ada!! I am Tulkas!!!” Míron bellowed out excitedly as he ran across the room to hug Caranthir’s legs, smiling up at him and only serving to smear the yellow paint across his pants. You watched the corners of his mouth twitch upwards as he stooped down to pick him up and hold him.

“Mm I see that you are.” He answered coolly, before approaching where you stood,

“I am just as strong too!!!” Míron exclaimed, holding both arms out to flex them, leaving Caranthir to snort out with amusement.

“My son I have no doubt of your strength, you nearly toppled me at the door.” He said assuring Míron of such great strength. Leaving the elfling to giggle out and wrap his arms around Caranthir’s neck.

“And who is Odhril?” Caranthir asked the little one, who looked immediately back to you. You were dressed in deep blue robes with hundreds of hand stitched flecks of silver all throughout with matching silver painted stars on your face. Your hair was left out and with pins of stars in your hair.

“They are the starry sky!” He said wiggling in Caranthirs arms with excitement, eyes widening and a grin coming to his face.

“And Ada! You are to be Ithil!” You gave Caranthir a smile seeing his hesitance, knowing your poor husband was not comfortable in things that weren’t black. You knew he was convinced you were going to dress him in a bright blindingly silver outfit. One that his brothers would profusely make fun of him if you did.

“Don’t worry meleth, it is still black like you asked for. Just with the different phases of Ithil on it.” You assured him, and heard him sigh in relief at your words. Praise the stars, he thought to himself.

“Mír-” You went to say but were interrupted quickly by Míron.

“No! I am Tulkas!!” He growled out with a big grin on his face, leaving both you and Caranthir to laugh at his reaction,

“Tulkas, go and dress into your costume.” You answered him with a laugh and at this Caranthir put him down onto the ground. At this “Tulkas” hurried to a different part of your room to begin undressing and redressing. Caranthir approached you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips and you smiled against them.

“When will your brothers be joining us?” You asked him softly as you began to usher him to sit in the chair Míron had been in so you could paint his face with the same silver paint you were wearing. Caranthir sighed at the sight, but relented, trusting that you wouldn’t make him look so ridiculous.

“It would appear we will be joining them in the village. They’ve gone off ahead without us.” Caranthir didn’t know if this brought on more or less anxiety, it was less time to be picked on about his costume. But if they started drinking before him… Well then Celegorm would be apt to find something wrong with his outfit shamelessly in front of the humans.

“What have they gone as?” You asked him curiously as you began to apply the silver paint on his face in a sweeping motion, choosing to do a bright silver crescent of Ithil on his face.

“Celegorm has gone as Orome… I know not what Curufin is. I wouldn’t doubt if he chose not to participate.” You looked away for a moment, noticing the way he tensely gripped the arm of the chair. Knowing that his anxiety was getting the better of him,

“Well it is his loss… And don’t worry about how you’re dressing up, meleth nin. If your brothers have something to say I will simply sick little Tulkas on them. He is feeling… fighty.” You couldn’t help but snicker at your own words, leaving Caranthir to let out a soft chuckle.

“Yes I am surprised I was not punched upon arrival.” He said raising his brows, feeling the wet paint glide across the side of his face. You laughed at his words, quickly removing your paint brush to steal a kiss from the paint free side of his face.

“Mm that would be because I told little Tulkas a bed time would be enacted if he did. I told him to save his strength for uncle Celegorm.” In the background you and Caranthir could hear Míron singing loudly and excitedly about being able to go to a festival. Leaving you both to chuckle as you tried to focus on painting his face filling in the empty space now that the moon was outlined.

A comfortable silence between the two of you fell over you for a moment, Míron was still singing in the background, voice growing closer as he came from the other part of your room. His shirt on hastily and crooked but at least his pants were on correctly this time and with his little boots to match.

“Why must I wear a shirt Odhril!? You said Tulkas was shirtless!” You stood from your hunched position finished with Caranthirs face and washing the brush. The Lord of Thargelion took it as his cue to stand from his spot at the chair and to move to the changing screen where black robes hung behind it.

“Because it is cold outside even for you. I am sure if Tulkas were here he’d put on a shirt too.” You chuckled out to him as you approached to straighten his shirt, hoping to reason with your elfling.

“I bet Uncle Celegorm isn’t wearing a shirt.” He pouted as you laughed again, beginning to tuck his shirt into his trousers. Pressing a kiss to his little forehead at his words.

“Mm and Uncle Celegorm will be trying to steal your Ada’s overcoat before the night is over. You’ll see.” You assured him, knowing that Míron was more than likely correct. You only heard Caranthir scoff behind the screen,

“And he shan’t get it, for the fool is shirtless.” He grumbled under his breath leaving you to snicker at Caranthirs words. You only continued to fuss over Míron’s shirt as he began to sing again, the little elfling letting you do so. After a moment Caranthir walked from behind the screen and Míron was the first to see him, with a big gasp.

“Ada!! You look beautiful!!!” He said in a giddy voice, pulling from you to run over to him, Caranthir merely smiled softly as he reached down to pick him back up. Though the little boy only wiggled and squirmed to be put back down.

“No Ada! I should carry you since I am so strong!” Míron exclaimed,

“You are Tulkas not Tilion.” You chuckled out at Míron’s words, folding your arms over your chest as you watched him flop right out of Caranthir’s arms. Going to his leg to try and lift him.

“Then I want to be Tilion! He must be stronger than Tulkas!” The little elfling exclaimed releasing Caranthir’s leg with a pout,

“Mm Míron Tulkas is stronger, it is just that you are not as large as Tulkas yet.” Caranthir assured him with a soft smile still on his lips. The little one sighed out in defeat at his Ada’s words folding his arms over his chest,

“But one day you will be, I am sure of it.” He mused softly to Míron which seemed to cheer him up some as the pout left his lips. You smiled at the scene and moving to approach and reaching your hand out to grab Míron’s.

“Are we all ready?” You asked, your husband smartly nodding his head as Míron excitedly screamed out a yes. With that you both were ushered to the door by a giddy little elfling, ready to celebrate Hallow’s Eve.

* * *

tags: @saviorsong @lilmelily @dicksoutformtl @fandomhoe101 @icarus-fell-in-spring @iwenttomordor @red-riding @miriel-estelwen @ta-ka-shi-ma @nerdyely @thegirlwithoutaname87 @anunexpectedsideblog @achasiel

50 notes · View notes

seoracle · 3 years

Text

DRIVERS LICENSE; i

Pairing: Bang Chan x Idol! Gender Neutral Reader

Genre: Fake Dating! AU, Angst, Lovers to Enemies(?), Occasional Pining, Comedy, S for potential smut(??)

Summary: Y/N has become an overnight sensation with ‘Drivers License’, Breaking records left and right...But what if the press gets wind of the ill-matched lovers and their company decide it’s the perfect attention ploy?

Word Count: 3.2K

Warnings: Swearing (a lot near the end), Drinking mention

A/N: this was meant to be a drabble... now it’s becoming a series...i’m sorry

“...and the winner of Inkigayo today is...Y/N with ‘Drivers License, Congratulations!”

You step towards the center of the stage and take the trophy and bouquet from a rookie idol, who flashes a bright smile at you, but you can see the envy in his eyes. You once had that same hunger and ambition that he seems to reek of, it’s a reminder of how far you’ve come.

Taking the mic, you begin to sing a more sultry and edgier vibe than usual, which seems to gather more screams from fans than usual. You remember what Seulgi taught you and gaze at the camera lens with a subtle pout, trying to capture the angst of the song in your gaze.

It feels ridiculous, feigning emotions you no longer feel, singing a song you begged the company not to put out in a corset fitted shirt that’ll leave your ribs sore and reddened. It’s pathetic and cliche, you quite literally sold your soul (well, heart) for fame.

“Yeah, you said forever, now I drive alone past your street…”

Everyone behind you waves at the camera, signalling the show is ending. You leave last, taking several confetti bits for your scrapbook, which is the only thing keeping you from remembering this is all real.

Backstage, Iris and San are waiting in your dressing room, they greet you with proud grins and slaps on the back.

“Well, if it isn’t miss twelve...no, thirteen wins in two weeks.” San praises, enveloping you in a hug.

“Could be thirteen by tomorrow~” Hums Iris in a sing-song tone.

A groan leaves your lips, while slumping into an uncomfortable chair. You tune out their excited plans for your makeup and hair tomorrow, San says something about an end of year Award show.

All you want is to go home to your empty dormitory and sleep.

When you finally arrive to the ‘comfort’ of your ‘studio apartment’ (box room), it isn’t long before you strip down to your pyjamas and aggressively rub off the layers of makeup that seem to cling to every pore and fine line of your face. The cold air from the fan soothes the aching of your body from your strict workout routine. You stay awake until 4am, reading comments from netizens and replying to fans on your fancafe, it was hard not to become obsessed with checking what people thought; whether they loved or loathed you.

[+184 -93] Y/N is talented, but they look devoid of emotion since last week...maybe singing a song so personal isn’t a good idea….what if the person it’s about hears it…..

User FYL**8 was right, it had become draining trying to convey emotions you’d long let go of. Your debut song was fresh and fun, it didn’t garner much attention but at least you hadn’t had to fake emotions and relive your first heartbreak.

Although the memories of the breakup didn’t hurt as much, the happiest ones were the most painful. The feeling of ignorance, thinking he meant forever and believing him completely...it was all so distant yet felt a fingertip away.

That night you slept with a heavy heart, remembering what it felt like when he’d hold you close and right and kiss you on the head to soothe your worries. Why did it have to end? Why like that? You try to drift into a nice sleep after another exhausting day but to no avail, thoughts of him are flooding every thought. Has he heard it? There was no way he hadn’t, he loved to check out every ranking song for inspiration or for another artist to add to his monthly playlist.

Would he get angry? Sad? Laugh at your pathetic feelings? He was right in the end, when it came down to it you only shared your feelings when it was too late.

Stupid Christopher fucking Bang.

It wasn’t often you’d refer to him as Chan, you had met him when he only saw it as another name for himself that he hardly used. Back when his hair had been fluffed up curls that he couldn’t contain and his light freckles weren’t covered by BB Cream. When he didn’t belong to the world and only loved you.

After months of forcing yourself not to, you hastily search “Stray kids Bang Chan + Y/N”, Then “Stray Kids Y/N” and finally “Skz Y/N”. The results are minimal and far inbetween, mostly tweets from fans wishing for a collab and oddly enough one person making edited photos of you and them, which are so convincing you have to remind yourself you hadn’t met them.

Thoughts drift to his friends, the ones who didn’t know Chris was even seeing someone and had been for over a year. They tried to sugarcoat it, say they forgot, it’s hard to keep track when you’re training and all that.

The sinking feeling you felt when Minho asked how long you’d been together, guessing a month at most. When you did reply, ears burning with embarrassment he coughed and muttered “Oh.’, That had stung.

Everything had seemed so perfect, until you opened your eyes and saw it for what it was.

You don’t end up sleeping much, two hours at most, Then it’s time to get ready and head to the Broadcast Studio for today’s event. All you know is it’s a show about giving advice, the reviews aren’t great but you aren’t allowed to turn anything down because fame is a double-edged sword that you can barely grasp as is.

Iris and San are already waiting for you when you get there, within minutes makeup is being patted into your skin and your outfit is laid out on the chair next to you.

“Sleep more, Y/N-ah, I had to use a double coverage concealer to hide your dark circles.” Iris said in a fretful tone.

“I try, it’s hard being famous.” You reply jokingly, flipping your hair the best you can. Iris smacks your hand away and frantically finds her hairspray.

Within twenty minutes you’re dressed and not one hair is out of place, San pulls you aside with an uncharacteristically stern face.

“The company have specific goals for sending you here, they want you to delve into a story of heartbreak to comfort today’s victim, while keeping anonymity and remaining as vague as you can.”

Of course, even a show about helping others is fictional.

You nod solemnly and prepare to go on air, sitting on a cushion next to a popular comedian who doesn’t bother to even look at you. A well-known Streamer is on your other side and you begin polite small talk, which seems to irritate the host.

“We’re on in 3,2….1!” A sharp click follows the director’s queue and the host bursts right into the introduction.

After you’re introduced it’s easy to tune out, you couldn’t give a shit about that stuck-up comedian and the actress to their right. Instead you think of how the fuck you’re supposed to conjure up an emotional performance with little to no time to prepare.

‘My ex-boyfriend hid me for almost two years’ no, not even worthy of a cheap gossip magazine. ‘I thought my boyfriend loved me, turns out he loved his career more’ Maybe...but you sound too needy.

“Today’s guest is Lee Chaeun of Suwon! Tell us your story, please.”

You turn to look at the guest who walks onto the set and sits at the head of the pillow mats. She’s clearly a young girl, her baby face is covered by face-framing layers of shiny black hair and her eyes are already glassy.

“Last year, I began dating my crush after years of admiring him from afar...Everything seemed so perfect until last week….He dumped me by text message saying he needed space and now he’s with someone new..” Chaeun bursts into tears and the host fakes a sympathetic face and passes her a box of tissues.

“Ah, you’re young...you don’t know anything yet. This is a normal phase for teenagers, men realise themselves and break girls down so they become beautiful women. It’s just a case of a little girl not wanting to grow up!” Chimes in the Comedian, who talks about his falsities as if they’re facts.

The audience erupts into laughter and the heartbroken teenager lowers her head in embarrassment. Which only makes you more enraged, Who told that guy he was funny?

“Chaeun has every right to be upset!” You exclaim, cutting through the laugher like a hot knife. “When a relationship ends when everything seems alright for one person, it's cruel. Being blindsided isn’t a joke. It hurts and she deserves closure, and to move on someday to a better person..What happened to her shouldn’t happen to anyone!” You barely register a gentle hand on top of yours, far too surprised by the fact there are tears dripping down your face. Crying wasn’t an option, so you pull yourself together and apologise to Chaeun and the host you cannot stand.

“Y/N, You seemed personally moved by Chaeun’s story, have you experienced a painful breakup?” The host asks curiously.

“You could say that,” You begin with a wry smile. “I was with someone who lived a double life, they were completely different when they were with other people...Things ended when I was still planning for future dates...it made me realise how fake they were.”

The guests all nod and you squeeze Chaeun’s hand, she smiles at you seeming relieved that she isn’t the only one who has felt this kind of pain.

Everything goes smoothly after that, other guests chime in and the actress that seemed snobby is openly discussing her ex vomiting all over her Valentinos. You can’t help but wonder if the company really suggested this, or if it was divine intervention (Choi San, your manager).

You don’t feel so alone anymore, everyone is guaranteed several things, two being love and heartbreak of some kind.

“Thanks to singer Y/N and actress Sojung, Chaeun was able to feel a little better...Thank you for joining us on ‘Help No Counsellor!’, Join us next week when…’

“Choi San, you sneaky bastard.”

He tries to act surprised but a shit-eating grin soon overtakes his acting, Iris shakes her head and zips her makeup bag closed. It isn’t long until you’re all at The Min’s enjoying red bean bread and warm tea. “What does inept even mean? I’m assuming it’s a good thing because Wooyoung kissed me after saying it.” San mentions, his lips curving upwards at the fond memory.

“I’d have to agree with Woo, it fits you perfectly.” You reply, circling around his question while Iris tries not to choke on her food.

Fits of laughter die down when you spot a familiar face, Lee Mijoo.

Her blonde hair flows down her back in loose curls and her soft eyes seem to enchant everyone, admittedly even you for a short time.Behind her is a slightly taller figure dressed in all black and your stomach drops.They don’t seem to notice your presence, so you decide to use this valuable time to hide behind a menu.

San and Iris try to play along best they can, but it is quite distressing that all of this has happened so suddenly, with no prior warning. But he did bring you here, a lot. So it’s amusing to see his date ideas haven't changed.

As he’s walking past you he pauses, and you want to shrivel into a hole and die, He’s clearly recognised you but can’t be 100% sure due to The Min’s menu covering your entire face.

“Y/N?”

Shit. You cannot hide from this.

Slowly taking the menu away and placing it down on the table you smile at him, maybe a little too forced but it’s the best you can do. His hair is blonde now, his curls are long gone but his smile is as genuine as ever.

Stupid Christopher Bang and his stupid ‘I-totally-didn’t-break-your-heart’ attitude.

“Chan, nice to see you. Still obsessed with their double shots?” You humoured, he seemed grateful for that.

“Oh, absolutely...and I see you’re still not saving any bean bread for anyone else.”

You laugh, it’s a bittersweet one at best but nevertheless it’s a laugh.

'Well it’s great to see you again, I’d love to exchange numbers if that’s alright?”

Without thinking you nod and oblige him, much to your friend’s disappointment which is evident by their glares. Mijoo exchanges smiles with everyone, who could hate her? She was funny, kind hearted and beautiful in every aspect.

When they finally leave to their outside seats you breathe a sigh of relief and sink into the chair.Iris strokes your hair and San grabs more snacks to go, the walk home isn’t peaceful. It’s awkward and silent, which only makes your head spin more. When you drop off Iris you know a lecture is coming, San hates doing it but you know he tells you what you need to hear, even if it hurts.

“Look, I’m happy you were able to brush off all the hurt today but earlier on you were crying about….this. Don’t give him the power to hurt you twice.”

“You’re right, thanks Sannie.” You reply, taking his arm and smiling at the warmth of his (Wooyoung’s) fuzzy coat.

Once San leaves and you get inside, it’s a matter of minutes before you hop in the shower and get rid of all the hairspray and mascara that’s been making you itch all day. The warm water soothes away your nerves and the impending frostbite from being outside in the cold for far too long.

Once you feel clean and somewhat scalded you step out onto warm fluffy towels (cheap warm fluffy towels with holes in them) and get situated for bed.

Just as you exit the bathroom your phone rings and you answer immediately, it’s probably Iris wanting you to play a new Among Us mod with her.

“Iris?”

“Uh, no, Chris.”

“Oh.” is your initial reply, why would he call you at midnight?

“Where you asleep? I’m sorry I’ll call back another ti-”

“No!” You interject, much too eagerly. “No...it’s fine. I’m not even in bed yet.”

“Oh” He sounds relieved, much the opposite of you.

“I just wanted to congratulate you...The song, it’s great. What’s it like actually singing one you wrote?”

“Great,” You admit with a smile he can't see, “It feels...genuine. I Couldn't stand the thought of giving the song away.”

“I can see why.” He replies in an unreadable tone.

“Did it make you uncomfortable? Me singing...about-”

“No, why would it?” He cuts in, he sounds slightly agitated.

“Look, Chan, I’m sorry. I should’ve texted you, well I did but you changed your number. But it’s my story too, okay? I needed to heal somehow.”

Minutes pass with no answer, as if he’s trying to think of exactly what to say without getting more irritated or to spare your feelings.

“When did I become Chan?” His voice comes out wavering,and it hurts you.

“That’s what everyone calls you now, you’re not just Chris the trainee anymore.” You reply in a gentle way, trying to ease the building tension.

“But to you, when did I stop being Chris?”

“Probably when you broke my heart,” You deadpan, before adding a ‘kidding’ and bullshit reason.

“You weren’t kidding, but you broke mine too. Don’t make me the bad guy.”

This had taken you aback, you had been in a perfectly happy relationship for almost two years and then he changed his mind, said he wasn’t happy and it wasn’t your fault. When the fuck did you break his heart?

“When exactly did that happen?” You query, “Before or after Mijoo?”

Chan lets out a dry laugh, “Don’t talk about what you don’t understand.”

“Well what does it matter? You never told me shit anyways.” You snapped.

“That’s because you wouldn’t fucking listen. Maybe to you it was all sunshine and roses but I was struggling, I changed and outgrew us. I didn’t want to but you were stuck in dreamland where we’d debut at the same time and live happily ever after. I realised it wasn’t going to happen and set you free so you wouldn’t be embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed?” You bark,”Fucking embarrassed of what exaclty? I left that shithole you call your company by choice and worked my way up. I’m not embarrassed, but you should be. You’re a fucking sellout Christopher Bang.”

Before he can reply you end the call and throw your phone at the wall, it would’ve broken only for the forty dollar case the store assistant convinced you to buy. You burst into tears just like you had that night when it all came crashing down. He must’ve loved seeing you in pain, because he keeps doing it even now.

That night, you wish for everything to go back to a time before him and the heartbreak that followed.

It’s early on a Friday when you’re called into a board meeting with the CEO, Director and San, who looks like someone stepped on his clay masterpiece. You still haven’t been told anything and as the minutes pass by you wonder if they found out about you getting drunk at Club Suran several weeks back. What if someone saw San there too? What if–

Suddenly the doors open and in walks JYP’s CEO, followed by several others and finally Chris. He looks as confused as you, but you quickly look away before he spots you. Last night was still fresh in your mind and you didn’t need anymore reminders or conversations with him.

“Dispatch has sent us several photos of you two together, spanning several years.” Your CEO announces, an Executive pulling the photos up on the screen behind her. “Including one from yesterday.”

“That was a coincidence, we broke up a long time ago.” You admit, she seems satisfied with your answer and nods, which makes you remember that damned dating ban you have.

“Usually, we’d shoot down these rumours immediately...but this could be quite beneficial to both Stray Kids and Y/N.” JYP’s CEO adds, “Stock prices have shown a rise for both of your albums, and real time searches are at an all time high.”

“I have a girlfriend.” Chan states, arms folded. “So that’s out of the question if you’re implying we fake a relationship.”

“Look Bang Chan,” Begins one of the Advisors, “It’s all for show, we’ll plan every detail and your girlfriend will keep her mouth shut if she knows what's good for her. Frankly, our sales aren't what they used to be and you need this, if you want complete musical and artistic control.”

Chan takes a while to think, you know this is all he’s wanted. Control over everything he and the boys put out there, with no censorship or edits by anyone else. Your CEO assures you you’ll also benefit from the agreement, including your debt fully cleared and money in your bank account as soon as you sign on the dotted line.

“How long does this last?” You ask, pen in hand.

“Twelve months, then you’re free again.”

Chan looks to you for conformation and you ignore him, signing it and standing up to leave. You only stop to sign more formalities and then you and San head back to your local coffee shop.

“Well, you sure have a funny way of moving on.”

#i'm sorry in advance #however thoughts are welcomed #skz chan #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #stray kids blurbs #stray kids scenarios #bang chan angst #stray kids imagines #skz blurbs #stray kids chan x reader #bang chan #bang chan imagines #bang chan blurbs #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you

157 notes · View notes

scorsoneamelia · 3 years

Note

hey hope you’re having a good day!

prompt: amelias sisters come to visit after scouts born and and find out about scout.

thank you so much i hope you’re having a good day too!!! <333

ALSO shoutout to @afsalta for helping me with this one!!

There was resentment, or maybe it was just pure hatred. Ever since she was old enough to form memories, there was always absolute disgust on her sister’s faces when it came to Amelia, or it could have also been disappointment, maybe even embarrassment. Embarrassed that their little sister wasn’t like them, instead they thought she was a mess; a mess that they convinced themselves she was going to be for as long as they lived. No matter how many years were under her belt for sobriety, she will always be that young girl that had shadows casting over face, pale skin and heavy eyes, sitting on the edge of a sidewalk, across from a bar with her head spinning and a handful of orange pills laying flat in her palm. A girl that stole the prescription pad of her older brother, crashing his white Mustang because she was too fucked up to drive. The same girl that used her own prescription pad to write doses for her and her boyfriend, him overdosing in the process. For as long as she could remember, they will always see her as a drunk or as a junkie who didn’t have her life together and never will.

A shadow, Derek always had a shadow and most would argue that it was her; following in her brothers foot steps but never being able to be successful. There was always competition, more so with her older brother and there was always a weight on her chest, a pressure into being as great as him; as great as her sisters. Success and failure didn’t come together as they believed he was successful and she wasn’t; rather she was a failure. The weight that sat on her shoulders was always pulling her down, making her believe that she’ll never be Amelia Shepherd, never her own person, instead she’ll forever be that girl screaming at her friends during an intervention about how much she wants drugs; needs drugs. Amelia believes that she’s just as great as he is and she can truly say that she’s proud of herself, proud of who she became and how far she’s come. The competition of her not being as successful, as normal as her family, has and always will be weighing her down because in their eyes she will always be the messy little sister who cannot be trusted.

She didn’t talk to her family, didn’t call, didn’t visit, Derek was the only exception and even then, they didn’t communicate as much as she would have hoped. Usually she calls her mom, keeping in touch as much as she could but the resentment and pain she has still lingered, since her own mom left her alone on her wedding day. Her big day, one of the most important days of her life and her mom refused to go despite her own daughter begging for her to attend. It was unbearable pain, a pain that wasn’t worth for her to continue to put herself through so instead she found her true family, her friends back in Los Angeles and her sisters, her children and her nieces and nephew. Amelia was content, her sisters words that used to haunt her no longer lingered in the back of her head because she knew she was better than the Amelia that her family decided to create.

At least that’s what she thought; being content and happy. She realized she was mistaken when a chill was being sent down her spine, a shiver that made goosebumps form on her arms, enough to make the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

“Kathleen?” Amelia breathed, her sister was stood outside the front door, the other sister standing not too far behind. “Nancy?”

“Amelia? Where have you been?” Nancy turned so she was facing Amelia and both girls had disgusted looks on their face, a look that was so familiar to her.

“I live in Seattle, I have since Derek gave me this job,” she started, a confused look on her face and her sisters were giving it back, probably because there was a toddler in her arms and he was propped up on her hip. “What are you doing here?”

“We talked to Meredith,” Kathleen stated. “We’re here to visit her and the kids.” They might as well just stabbed her right in the chest and twisted, because she felt something in her chest, pain; they weren’t there to see her. Amelia shouldn’t be surprised though, she didn’t visit either.

So instead of making it a big deal, not allowing to show that it bothered her, she stepped aside to allow her two sisters into the house. After all, it was Meredith’s house, not hers. The part that Amelia dreaded was that Meredith wasn’t here yet, the kids had just been getting off of school, so in the entire house it was her, Link and their baby; a baby they had no idea she had. “I didn’t know Meredith had another one.” And there was a light in Nancy’s eyes, some kind of love and affection that was beaming through her facial features, a finger being lifted to brush softly across the toddler’s face.

“She didn’t,” Link had come around the corner, thankfully he noticed that they showed up; her cruel sisters that he had met once, not ever wanting to be caught in another situation with them. But here he was, standing behind Amelia, a hand brushing softly across her lower back. “This is Scout. Ours.”

The love and affection that had previously been coming through her eyes was replaced with disappointment, and there was a shudder that came from Kathleen. “You had a secret baby?”

She brushes off their reactions, trying not to let it phase her because that part of her life was over; the part where she let her sisters control how she feels about herself. “This is Scout, he’s a year now,”

“Does Mom know?” Nancy asked, her eyes wide, similar to Link’s although he was shocked for opposite reasons. “How could you keep this from us? We’re family.”

Amelia’s eyes were rolling and she was irritated. “You guys lost the privilege of knowing what goes on in my life when mom chose not to come to my wedding and the last time I tried to visit you, I was humiliated.”

Nancy’s arms were being crossed in front of her chest, her eyebrow raised and she was glancing at Link, a nod in his direction. “You’ve managed not to scare him off. Aren’t we all surprised? After all, he might just be the best one yet.”

This time Link rolled his eyes, his body was tense from behind her and Amelia knew he was forcing himself from speaking up. “Forget it,” Amelia hummed, passing Scout off to Link and she was making her way to the kitchen. This conversation was over because she decided it was.

“So, Scout?” Nancy asked, now suddenly both of them had an interest in meeting her son; their nephew. Amelia doesn’t care though, she didn’t love them the same way she loved Maggie, or Meredith, she never loved them the same way she loved Derek. To her, they were just people she grew up with, people she knew, biology is utter crap and they weren’t her sisters, not to her at least.

Once Meredith arrives, she’ll let her take the matter into her own hands considering they weren’t there for her and they most definitely weren’t there for Scout. They were there for Meredith. “I’ve gotta say, I’m surprised with you, Amy.”

“It’s Amelia.” She corrected Nancy, which resulted in the older sister waving her hand off in dismissal, her attention only drawn to the baby and Link, who was being friendly as always. She wishes she was more like him, was able to put up with this kind of shit. There was a sound of a car engine coming closer before it came to a stop, meaning Meredith and the kids were home. This meant she could wander, go somewhere else in the house to hide because frankly, seeing her sisters was the last thing on her list to do for the day.

So that’s what she did, made her way up the set of stairs while Meredith greeted them, offering them coffee, tea, water, literally anything. They all agreed on coffee, but Kathleen was talking loud enough for Amelia to hear. “Is there no alcohol in this house?”

#stories #SORRY ITS SO SHORT I WAS STUCK #amelia and link #amelia x link #amelia shepherd #ameliafics #amelinkfics #link and amelia #amelia #greys anatomy #greysanatomyfics #atticus link #amelink

29 notes · View notes

writtenvisionary · 3 years

Text

Not Her Idea

Read on Ao3

WC: 2.9k

Summary: She most definitely did not adopt a small black cat and name him Mini Noir. Nope. But she can't help but swoon over what an adorable sight the real superhero with his mini namesake is. Based on this Tumblr post by @akuma-eater

It wasn’t her idea. It most definitely was NOT her idea to adopt a black kitten and name it after Chat Noir. Nope. If you ask, her parents were the ones who insisted. Because it was not her who suggested it.

She would definitely regret it later if she did. But she didn’t.

Although as Marinette pets the small, soft creature, a smile forms on her face. He rubs up against her, craving attention. Of course she gives it to him; who is she to deny?

She was still debating if she should tell her partner or not. His ego is already so huge, and there are so many of his fans that have named a pet after him already. If he knew that his own partner named her cat after him?

She would never hear the end of it.

There was also the fact that Alya would freak about the name and start demanding answers, because what teenage girl in Paris wasn’t attracted to the, admittedly hot, superhero? Again, she would never hear the end of it.

But when the words slipped out of her mouth in class, her friends immediately wanted to see the new kitten. Which makes sense. She really should have expected it. So she said that they can all come over after school and meet the little guy.

Now she’s frantically running around her room, tidying up before they make their way into her space, while Mini Noir innocently sits on her chaise, staring at her with wide green eyes.

All posters of Adrien ripped down: check. Scattered trash in garbage bin: check. Litter box cleaned and kitten has food and water: check. Fabric put away: check.

“Tikki, hide,” she whispers to her kwami, who promptly phases into her purse on her desk.

She takes a deep breath.

“Alright, you can come up!” She calls.

Footsteps are then heard making their way up the steps, and suddenly she’s not alone in her room anymore.

Attention is immediately turned to the kitten on her chaise. She watches in awe as Alya coos over her, and Nino rests a hand on his girlfriend’s shoulders, keeping her grounded. He reaches over to pet Mini Noir with his other hand, who leans into his touch and starts to purr.

Marinette glances over at Adrien. Her knees buckle at the look of pure happiness in his eyes, and she can feel a her cheeks heating up. Their eyes meet and she smiles.

“Y-you w-wanna pet the smitten, I MEAN kitten?”

He sends her a grin and nods.

She somehow finds the strength to look back at her other friends.

“Hey guys, can A-Adrien see him?”

Yeah, she hates the stutter just as much as Alya does.

They agree and happily back up so that the blonde model can pet the little creature. Adrien slowly takes a few steps forward and puts out his hand for the kitten to smell. After deciding that Adrien is apparently a safe human, he rubs against his hand.

“Aw,” he mumbles. “He’s so sweet.”

Her heart melts.

“Hey, Mari. What’s his name? You didn’t tell us at lunch.”

She barely hears the question. Her eyes are trained on her crush as he carefully picks up the kitten and sits down, letting Mini Noir stand up on his lap. He gently pets him, coaxing him to lay down.

“Marinette,” Alya says, catching her attention.

“Oh,” she looks to her, then gulps.

Should I tell her? She’s not gonna let me live this down.

…. Oh, whatever. He needs people to refer to him as something.

“Mini Noir, or just Minou.”

Marinette looks back to Adrien, not wanting to see her bff’s reaction, and bites her lip.

His grin had softened, but his eyes are watering. He continues to pet her kitten, who had finally laid down, as he blinks to stop the tears from falling.

“Are you okay, Adrien?”

He looks up at her, and suddenly he can’t stop the salty liquid from rolling down his cheeks. A smile crosses his features.

“I’m perfectly okay. Just… wish I had a cat.”

Not that she has a say, because she sucks at lying herself, but she can tell that he’s not telling the truth. Something seems… off.

“I get it. I’ve wanted a pet for so long. I can’t imagine what it’s like being alone in that huge house with no one, not even a pet,” she says, and woah she just talked to him without stuttering.

Adrien nods, looking back down at his secret namesake, and scratching behind his ears. Even though it may compromise his identity, he has to come visit tonight as Chat Noir. He has a right to meet a cat named after him, right? He doesn’t want to leave him at all.

But he has no choice. His father needs him home by four o’clock to get ready for his interview at six. Not that he’s excited for it, but he doesn’t want to disappoint the man any more than he already has. He’s sick of being a failure.

With that depressing thought in mind, he lets out a sigh.

“I gotta get going, guys. Let me know if you ever wanna hang out again and I’ll see what I can do.”

The three of his friends nod, Marinette looking oddly worried, and Adrien takes Mini Noir in his hands. He stands, handing the kitten to his favorite everyday Ladybug, but not before leaving a kiss atop the cat’s little head.

After he leaves, the atmosphere turned awkward.

Nino grunts.

“His dad is getting on my last nerve,” he grumbles. “You guys don’t even know half the shit he goes through. I wanna get him out of there, but I don’t know how.”

Marinette’s eyebrows furrow.

“What’s going on?”

“Yeah, Nino, you haven’t even told me anything. And I’m dating you. So?” Alya asks, hands on her hips.

The DJ sighs, taking his cap off and running a hand over his short hair.

“Gabe isolates him from his friends, doesn’t eat with him at dinner, and Adrien has to set an appointment to even see him. That’s neglect. Gabriel is not a good father, and something tells me there’s something he does behind closed doors that Adrien can’t tell me about.”

Alya and Marinette stare at him, now concerned.

“Well, what can we do?” Marinette asks.

Nino shakes his head.

“Nothing. I’ve tried to talk to Gabriel, and obviously I was banned from the mansion. Adrien doesn’t think there’s anything wrong, Nathalie keeps saying that it’s not her business, and the Gorilla doesn’t even talk.”

“True, and even if we’re able to convince Adrien that his father is a dickhead, we won’t be able to do anything because he’s rich and famous and will probably be able to overrule any charges we press,” Alya explains with an eye roll.

The entire subject makes Marinette’s heart pound, and she honestly just wants the focus to go back on her kitten.

So, she swallows and forces a smile.

“We’ll figure it out. You guys wanna play with him for a bit while I help my parents down in the bakery?”

Both friends agree with an excited nod, so she hands off Mini Noir to Alya and rushes down the stairs. The tension in that room was too much for her to handle. She needed to get away.

—

Marinette sits at her desk, hand-sewing her latest design with soft music sounding from her speaker. Her face twists in concentration as she tilts her head, readjusting the position of her hands to work at a better angle.

A knock at her top bedroom hatch startles her.

Gently setting down the piece she was working on, she stands and takes a few steps to the other side of her room. Then she glances up at the window on the hatch above her loft bed, and smiles at the sight.

She really should have guessed.

He comes by every other night. Originally, it was for some pastries for his kwami, but it soon became time for him to unwind after a busy day. She has come to quite enjoy his presence.

It’s why she named her kitty after him; he was so important to her, and so was Chat Noir.

“Coming,” she calls to him as she steps up the ladder.

When she reaches the hatch, her eyes lock with the black cat hero before pushing it open.

He jumps right through the opening, landing right on top of her bed. She shakes her head as she closes it, eyeing him through her peripheral. His forearm lay over his eyes, head on the pillow, breathing heavily.

“You good, kitty?”

He nods, pulling his arm away to look at her.

“My dad wanted me home for an interview earlier and then said he didn’t want me to go,” he frowns. “I had to leave my friends. I didn’t want to, and I didn’t even need to!”

“Aw,” she mumbles, lowering herself at the end of her bed.

“Well, I think I have something that will cheer you up!”

One of his eyebrows perks up, as well as the corner of his lips. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

She holds up a finger, trying to stifle an excited smile, then makes her way down from the loft.

A soft mew is heard from below, catching Chat Noir’s attention. So he looks over her railing, and the pure glee he feels when a black kitten is spotted cannot be tamed. His grin hurts, eyes following Marinette’s movements as she struggles to catch him (or her, he didn’t know) from running around the room. When she finally secures the small creature in her hands, she huffs a sigh of relief. Chat bites his lip, watching in awe.

She’s so adorable.

Oh, and the cat’s adorable too.

Marinette struggles as she walks up her ladder, out of breath, but ultimately looks up at Chat Noir with a winded smile.

“Meet,” she swallows, “Mini Noir, or Minou.”

“Aw, oh my gosh. You named him after me? Mari, really?”

She could tell that his question was full of innocence, despite how teasing the word’s connotations are.

“Of course,” she feels her cheeks heat up. “You mean a lot to me. I would name a million things after you, Chaton.”

Chat Noir tried to stop it, but tears started forming all over again. Just… knowing that he actually means something to someone… it’s overwhelming. Not to mention that he loves cats. This is like a double whammy.

He’s so happy. He wishes he knew how to thank her. For now, a simple smile and hug would have to do.

She lets herself be engulfed in his arms, replying to his “Thank you” with an “Always.” He makes sure to leave room for their furry friend, who had resolved to curling up in Marinette’s lap.

When they separate, Chat Noir immediately looks down at the kitten, petting him with a smile.

Mini Noir stares at his honorary father with wide, green eyes and a little heart-shaped nose that nearly makes Chat melt. He scratches behind the kitten’s ears, enjoying the purrs that erupt from him. He wishes he could restrain himself from purring, but that seemed frivolous because he doesn’t even know when he starts.

Marinette giggles beside him and he sighs, not taking his eyes off Mini Noir.

“Was I purring again?”

“Yup,” she says, popping the ‘p.’

Then fingers are running through his hair and everything around him comes to a stop. His eyes flutter closed, and he leans into her touch. His purr returns, unwillingly, as he accepts the pets from Marinette. An angry meow from her lap makes his hand start moving again, giving Mini Noir the same treatment that his favorite fashion designer was giving him.

He was in heaven; experiencing pure ecstasy, feeling a kind of love that he hasn’t felt in such a long time. And the kitten… he just feels so appreciated.

Understandably, he’s disappointed when she pulls away. He glares at her, frowning hard, but she only boop’s his nose and hands the kitten over to him.

“Sorry, Chat. Gotta get those treats from the bakery, and set up the video game. Have fun!”

He shakes his head, leaning back on the bed and letting the kitten crawl on top of him. His little paws knead into his leather suit, leaving his claws to dig into the leather, so he ends up having to tenderly pull his paws off of him. He rubs the pads, gently massaging them. Mini Noir lets him, surprisingly. In fact, he plops down onto his back and stretches, allowing his paws to web out.

Chat Noir giggles, “Hey, princess? Are you sure this one’s for me?”

She scoffs.

“No, Chaton. This is my kitty. You just get the pleasure of seeing him a lot.”

He feigns hurt, dramatically gasping.

“You mean that I’m not your kitty?”

Marinette groans, “You know what I meant. Besides, aren’t you Ladybug’s kitty?”

Chat shrugs, looking back at the cute ball of fluff on his stomach. He smiles.

“I don’t think so. She calls me ‘kitty’ but it’s just a nickname. We’re not together or anything.” His voice drops into something smaller as he takes ahold of his mini’s paws again. “I wish we were, but she doesn’t like me like that. I’m sure I annoy her.”

The designer wanted nothing more than for him to believe that he was not annoying but he had such a low self-esteem that it was hard to really convince him of anything. But she sighs and does her best anyway.

“Chat Noir, you are anything but annoying. If she doesn’t see how amazing you are, she’s missing out.” Her tone turns predatory. “And if she ever says you are annoying, or stupid, or anything you’ve said about yourself, I will NOT hesitate to send her a giant punch to the gut.”

Her empty threat causes a smile to break through his chagrined frown, and a chuckle to escape his larynx (yes he pays attention in science class).

“You always say the right thing, Princess. Thank you,” he admits.

Marinette was going to reply, but her mother called her name from downstairs. She sends her two kitties a nervous smile.

“Be right back.”

Then she exits the room, abandoning the symbols of bad luck on her bed. She just hopes they will behave until she gets back with a tray of yummy, cheesy pastries.

To her surprise, they do. It’s Chat, actually, who ends up falling asleep, while mini Chat Noir prances around her room. He was de-transformed, but luckily he had already turned away from the hatch, hiding his true identity from her. This made her sigh in relief.

A snore sounds through the room, and she shakes her head.

Poor kitty doesn’t get enough sleep.

She makes a point to grab a throw blanket from her chaise on her way up to him, then drapes it over him. Then she heads back down the ladder to catch the little kitten, before bringing him back up to the real superhero. Mini Noir immediately settles in next to him, curling into a little ball flush against his side. Marinette can’t help but mumble a tiny ‘awe’ at the sight.

“Psst, Chat. Can you hear me?”

Nothing. He’s out cold.

Plagg flies in front of her with crossed arms, grunting.

“What is the meaning of this, Pigtails?”

Marinette shrugs, “Meaning of what?”

Plagg rolls his eyes.

“Why is there another thing here? I thought I was the main event!”

“His name is Mr. Mini Noir, or Minou. You can call him Chat Noir Jr, for all I care, just whatever you want to call him, Plagg, but nothing disrespectful,” she looks at him with indignation. “It’s a small kitten. Please be gentle.”

Plagg scoffs, floating over to the cat. She wants to turn and see his interaction with the other cat, but then she’d risk seeing Chat’s civilian identity and she wasn’t ready for that yet.

“This is family, Pigtails. We’re the same breed—“

“No you’re—“

“—And I will always love my kittens. I just don’t always outwardly show it. My insults are laced with love, little lady.”

She tilts her head slightly in admission.

He floats back in front of her, that scowl returning on his magical features once more.

“Okay, now where is my cheese.”

It wasn’t a question, but a demand. She smiles and shakes her head.

“It’s on my desk. Be quick before Chat wakes up.”

She watches Plagg glance over her shoulder at the sleeping boy, before he nods and promptly takes flight. Then she feasts her eyes on the way he inhales a multitude of cheese triangles that have been sat on the desk in front of him.

Only one minute passes before he’s back at her side. His tiny arms are crossed over his chest.

“Thanks, Pigtails. Where’s Tikki?”

Marinette smirks, “If she didn’t come out, that means she doesn’t want to see you.”

He rolls his eyes, floating back to his chosen.

“Rude,” she can hear him mutter angrily.

Plagg zips back into the ring, and a flash of green light encases her room before fading away. She is left with two sleeping black cats and a heavy load of homework.

—

It most definitely was her idea to adopt her mini chat noir.

That’s certainly why she’s sneakily snapping a few photos of the pair, snickering as she does so.

What’s one kitten without another? Just lonely.

Something tells her that Chat is already lonely enough outside of the mask. She didn’t want him to feel that way anymore. Who is she to deny him of a friend?

She doesn’t regret it. In fact, she is very happy with this turn of events.

Things are now paws-itively purr-fect.

#mlb #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #marichat #black kitten #adrienette #Adrien Agreste #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug and chat noir

26 notes · View notes

imagine-that-one-thing · 3 years

Text

Her Majesty || 18

Queen

April 15th

Morning discovered me hours ago when Harry's alarm trumpeted through the room, and he forced himself out of bed. Since four o'clock this morning, I have been in and out of sleep. If I am honest, I don't want to take on the day. I have been dreading this day for years, and quite frankly, have been praying it would never come – but I was ill-prepared for how quickly it snuck up on me. But here I am, on the warm side of my bed, longing for my past self as Princess Anastasia but having to remind myself of my new title as Queen.

"What is the Queen going to do on her first day as Queen? What's the first order?" Harry softly requests, and I raise my brow as I convene up against the pillows and cock my head to the side.

I want to spend my day in bed and wrap my head around things.

"What is the King's first order?" I respond with a hint of sarcasm laced to my tone.

Harry elevates his beverage to his lips and shrugs, "I am on my third coffee, and my duties are to keep the palace safe, the same as any other day," Harry responds, not appearing to be phased by the fact that he has a title.

"You do realise that even by telling everyone that I would be king, I cannot be King, Anna."

"You do realise that I make the rules, right?"

Harry laments, "A King has a higher power over Queen. Therefore, I do not have the right to be over you, Anastasia. Therefore, I cannot be titled, King."

I roll my eyes, "We can have this conversation later. I am going back to sleep."

"No, you are not," Harry returns as I settle into the bed and draw the blankets to shelter around my body. "Anastasia, you have a strict itinerary that you have to stick to, which means your ladies will be up here in ten minutes."

I stare at Harry and groan, "Did I forget to ask to sleep in?" I could have sworn that being Queen didn't come with an obligation to be awake at the crack of dawn.

"Well, I did ask the bagpipes from a piper just below the terrace to be put on hold until seven, darling," Harry notifies me.

"And what time is it now?" I request.

Harry smirks, and I moan as he glances at his watch before flicking his eyes towards me. That damn smirk gives it away.

I wait a few moments, and the bagpipes commence their morning routine. Every morning at around six, I am awakened by the Piper's sounds to the Sovereign if I am not already awake. My father resented it, but he kept it around, not only because it is part of the Royal arrangements but because my mother appeared to love the morning wake up calls. Most of the wakeup sequences were at six, but my father extended it to nine in certain months. Of course, it depended on what was transpiring in the royal world.

The Piper's principal responsibility is to play every weekday at six or nine am for approximately 15 minutes under His Majesty's window when he is in residence at Buckingham Palace. Now that I am Her Majesty, they play for me, under my terrace. I don't want to remove the pipers, essentially because it is a tradition, but I will be damned to be woken up every morning with them under my terrace at six in the morning.

"Thanks for the hour," I sigh, rubbing my eyes. "Can you please request that the time is changed from six? I prefer not to hear them until at least ten, perhaps eleven?" I softly beam, doing my ablest to appreciate the art of the bagpipes.

Harry steps closer and hands me his coffee before leaning down and kissing my cheek, "I don't think they will appreciate playing so late."

"Nine?" I suggest, "I think that is fair."

"I think that is fair," Harry nods his head, and I take a few sips of his warm coffee.

"Could you make this any stronger?" I chuckle, taken back by the intensity of his coffee.

Harry shrugs his shoulder, "At least I didn't add bourbon to it this morning," Harry sarcastically smiles.

I hand Harry his coffee back with another stifled laugh escaping my lips. I know that he adds a little alcohol to his coffee some days towards the ends of his shifts, especially if they have been excessive and problematic. "What do you have today?" I softly ask while we have a few extra minutes alone.

Harry steps away from the bed and tells me what he has planned for his day. My head cocks to the side as he stands in front of me, everything about him causing me to smile and swoon over him.

Harry is incredibly handsome and never fails to find me between shifts to give me a few minutes of his short time. This man with dewy, mist valley-green eyes, lush hair he grooms so carefully that has a rippling quality, is a man that I thank the heavens for every day. The last few months have been horrible and heartbreaking, there are still days where I have no clue how the fuck I am going to survive the journey without my father, but Harry always makes sure to make it known that he is right beside me through everything.

Harry is a man that holds my heart in his golden hands and cherishes it, he has every opportunity to throw it to the wall and walk out, but he doesn't. He has managed to survive the horrible honeymoon phase. Our honeymoon phase hasn't been what it was meant to be; it has been emotional crying, it has been painful, sad, and full of anger all in one.

The man in front of me is dashing with a rascal's smile and worked his magic to give me what was rightfully mine, he didn't pride himself on running the monarch for a short time, and he didn't try to keep the authority that he had. The man that stands in front of me is an exceptional husband; I couldn't have asked for anyone better, and one day, he will be a great father to our children if we ever have children. This man is an influence on society, and I am lucky to have him.

Harry waves his hands in front of me, "Anna? Baby, are you listening?" Harry questions, snapping me from my daze.

I take a breath and smile at him, "Yeah," I lie through my teeth, and Harry shakes his head disapprovingly.

"You're shocking at lying."

I lift my shoulders into a shrug and push the covers off my body. I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and step towards Harry. I kiss him sweetly before pulling away and smiling. "What was that for?"

I offer him nothing but a small smile and dreamy eyes that can't peel themselves away from him.

"Mmm, I need to get back to work," Harry changes the subject as two of my lady in waiting's walk-in. "See you later," Harry kisses me softly, becoming rigid as he clears his throat and notices the ladies looking at the two of us. Harry doesn't feel comfortable with PDA in front of the staff and is still unsure how to act. It's humorous to a certain extent. He hated hiding the relationship, and now he doesn't know what to do now that he doesn't have to hide anything.

I reach for his hand as he steps away. Harry stops and looks over his shoulder before turning back around to face me, "What is it?" he softly asks. My eyes glance between him and his coffee in his hand. Harry rolls his eyes and hands me his coffee, "You're lucky I love you, my darling," Harry grins, "Now, goodbye," he begins to walk away, leaving me with the rest of his coffee and my staff.

I chuckle as the ladies watch him leave, swooning over him in the same manner I do. "You're lucky," one begins as she holds a few dresses across her arms.

"I know," I smile, well aware of how lucky I am. "What do I have the pleasure of wearing today?" I question, looking at the dresses, giving the ladies full reign of what they dress me in as I sit down on the edge of the bed.

♛ ♛ ♛

When I was a little girl, I filled my time prowling the hallways of the various estates we have, all of which had their unique quality. To this day, my favourite place is in Northern Ireland, Hillsborough Castle. I allocated ampere-hours in the gardens, playing hide and seek with the assistants and the bodyguards, countless hours picking wildflowers and chasing butterflies. I would do anything to go back to the days where life was simple, where all I had to think about was which flowers I desired to plant when I wasn't learning about the world and learning to speak different languages.

I remember one spring, Dad brought me to Hillsborough Castle; he and his staff purchased various flowers and shrubs I had picked out one day, we went through a magazine. We later spent that weekend planting the array of plants. Somehow, my father discovered a way to make everything match and look colour coordinated. I wasn't much assistance in the garden, I dug a few holes with my little shovel and helped water the plants, but he and his staff did most of the dirty work. It was when things were manageable, when we could be a family without anyone torturing my father. Perhaps back then, things weren't as simple as I assume, and maybe I was naive, but in my memories, things were simple.

We were happy.

Unfortunately, I can't travel to Hillsborough Castle and attain my peace, and I can't proceed to where I have always been satisfied. Right now, travelling too far is out of the question for safety reasons. Madeline can't fly back home to her family because of safety concerns. If I could, I would love to discover myself in rolling hills and grassland, where it appears neverending. I would love to advance to the countryside, to view the sunset over a meadow and gather nothing but the harmony of nature when the sun submerges into darkness. Harry's mother's home was calm and serene. There were no sounds of cars continually driving around, no people standing outside my place of residence daily, and no staff. It was normal- something I crave but can't possess. I wish I could be out feeding the baby animals and savouring life in the slow lane like I did the few times I have been up there.

I necessitate a scenery change, but I am unsure where the scenery change can occur when I am not authorised to travel. I still think running to Greece and changing our identities is a superb idea, but there is no way in hell I can convince Harry into the concept. Harry has expressed how ludicrous the idea is and logically explained to me the reasons why it is not happening. I think we would be fine with mundane duties and living in Greece. At least we wouldn't have Pippa around to pester the shit out of us. That woman is relentless; she has not given up on her notion of expressing how incompetent I am to be Queen.

What I want is for us to be happy without doubt lingering around us. I don't want the fear to continue to gloom over me. As strict as the palace is and the fact people are constantly watching, I am still concerned. Before my father's passing, I was carefree. I used to wander the halls' without much thought, but now I struggle to step outside my room without the second thought of whether something could happen.

I do not have proof of who killed my father, all I have is my suspicion, and I am convinced that these same people will come after me or, worse, Harry.

The media have attracted attention to Harry and me. The night on the balcony, as expected, drew attention to us, but in my lapse of judgment, I wasn't considering how this could affect him. He is now another target. If the Aces, whoever they may be, are still out for blood, their next bet would be him. In the mind of someone who wants revenge, money or really anything, they will go for the person who has the most impact. If they take out Harry, one less person will protect me before taking me out unless we comply with their requests. With each day that has passed since my father, I have waited for some request from this unknown group of people. I have waited for a phone call or a letter with their demands, but I have not received a single thing.

When I stayed at Harry's mother's, there were letters sent to her house addressed to myself and Harry; what happened after that night, I do not know. Harry said he would take care of it, and nothing has appeared since. After that night, I stopped looking into things and having Harry followed. I knew that he was right- some things are better left unknown. How Harry handles situations is not of my concern. Harry has his job, and I have mine. He does not tell me how to be a Royal, and I do not tell him how to do what he has to do. I know his field of work has gotten very messy over the last few months. He has done things he never imagined he would have to do.

The door to my office opens, distracting me from my daze of thoughts that have been accompanying me most of the day. Harry steps into the palace office and closes the door behind him, intentionally shutting the door on the people accompanying him. "Anna," Harry begins as he shuffles closer to the desk, he gestures between us and the door and shakes his head, "I have a man trying to measure me for clothes, a woman with an iPad wanting to be my assistant, and I have a man holding a fruit platter… Make it stop, please." Harry breathes out softly, "I appreciate their efforts, but I don't need an assistant. I can do my job."

"Fruit Platter? That is better service than me," I snicker.

"Sweetheart, I am highly frustrated with it." But, unfortunately, Harry doesn't recognise my humour or appear amused by the events.

"I will ask them to tone it down. Call them in," I instruct, gesturing towards the door.

"Surprised they can't hear us and just walk on in," Harry murmurs, advancing towards the door and unlocking it, allowing his array of followers to wander into the office.

The staff stand in front of me in a line, almost as if they are aware of what the conversation will hold. "I know you all have good intentions, but His Highness doesn't want to be followed, if he needs something, he will ask, but he doesn't need the extent of these privileges as my father did. Harry will let you know when and if he needs something. He is very low maintenance…" I graciously explain, "Mike, when he has the time, you can talk to him about suites and what he wants. Estelle, Harry doesn't want an assistant; Matthew takes care of everything. If Harry needs any help, he will ask," I direct each issue head-on, doing my best to be respectful, "And Luke, Harry doesn't need you to follow him with food unless asked; he will make his coffee when he wakes up. He takes a coffee at seven, he will ask you if he needs anything else, give him coffee, and you will be his best pal. He appreciates it, but he likes to be left to his own devices." ... "Think of him as a lone wolf, he was under the radar before marrying me, and he likes to stay that way."

Mike clears his throat and nods, "All due respect, your mother put us on his service."

"You can be on his service. Just keep a distance, thank you," I dismiss the humble team, and they all shuffle out gradually before shutting the door behind them.

"Rough first day?" I chuckle, and he leans on my desk and crosses his arms over his chest while he nods his head. "I just want to do my job, Anna."

"Well, honey, your job isn't just security anymore."

"It is," Harry disagrees.

I know the transition is going to be incredibly rough. He has gone from being security to being a husband to being a quiet King to becoming second to the throne and being waited on by the staff. I don't expect him to attend charity events, cut ribbons and be a royal member. But, on the other hand, I don't anticipate him to give up being security and guarding the palace, but I am not sure how it will operate with him being on my service.

"You know you will need security, Harry?"

"Anna, Matthew and I have it sorted out. Can we discuss something else?"

"Every Thursday, we don't have royal duties. Instead, we have family dinner with my mother," I inform Harry, "And I'd like us to commit to one day a week where it's just you and me even if it's just an hour."

Harry nods his head, "Of course, Anna."

"And we need to find our charities and volunteer work."

"Sure, I'll show kids how to run a security detail team."

"Harry," I press, "I'm serious."

"We can call it Harry's boys and girls' scouts, just without pitching a tent. Instead, I'll show them how to hogtie a person and keep people safe."

"I can't tell if you're joking or not."

Harry stares at me with a straight face, "I am not joking."

"Christ," I mutter, "How are we going to survive ruling a monarch."

Harry elevates his shoulders into a shrug, "I am just here for the ride, but I need to go over protocols and security things with you," Harry changes the subject, taking my ink pen from my hand and shifting the paperwork in front of me away from my body.

"I was working on that," I declare as I lean back in my chair and cross my arms over my chest, now mimicking his position.

Harry nods his head and places my pen in his breast pocket, "Right, so we need to have an unwritten understanding. When security says 'we are leaving', it means just that." Harry notifies me, already prompting me to roll my eyes.

"Just because my title changed doesn't mean I forgot the protocol."

Harry hums, "You need to redo your security training."… "You need to do your SAS training; you have a refresher course to do." Harry reminds me of what feels like the hundredth time.

I just have no desire to do the damn course.

"Will you be my teacher?" I smirk.

Harry sighs, "The tunnels are off-limits for the next few days."

"Oh, damn, now how I will be a product of any illegal activity? How will I escape the palace?" I sarcastically respond.

I have no intentions of escaping through the tunnels or causing any dilemmas; for the most part, I am emotionally stable and know that I cannot go off and get drunk because life as a royal isn't enjoyable.

"Princess—"

"Ah, no," I cut Harry off, "Wrong title, and don't even try to refer to me as my title. You know I hate it."

"And I hate when you make my job troublesome, which you are doing," Harry points as he gestures towards me, "Security is heightened. I need you to at least pretend to care."

"Fine," I mutter, "You're such an ass when you're the security detail."

"Anna, just get your training done with Matthew at the very least."

He is getting frustrated with me. I can tell by the way he is clenching his jaw and tapping his shoe against the flooring. He means well, but the training is a pain in my ass.

Why should we stage a kidnapping and show me how to handle the situation when if we wait long enough, it will happen?

Nothing surprises me with this monarchy. I wouldn't be surprised if Pippa tied me up, forced me in the back of her car and drove me across Europe before abandoning me in the middle of nowhere. After my father's incident, nothing is really off the table in terms of events that could take place. No amount of training saved my father.

"I will," I accept, leaning forward and standing to my feet before I encase my arms around his neck, "You need to relax," I inform him, his arms dropping to his side before his hands rest in the small of my back, enabling me to stand between his legs and bring our bodies closer. I give him a small smile. Then, I kiss him softly and leisurely.

"Easier said than done," Harry murmurs against my lips. I cut him off and kiss him more profoundly, not wanting his words but his affection.

He draws away with a sigh, "I have to be on your mother's service in a few minutes."

Mood killer.

Blinking with feigned innocence, I whisper, "Oh, come on," taking a chance and moving to caress the tender skin on his neck with sweet kisses. He cocks his head to the side, enabling me to kiss his fevered skin, my hands pursuing their way to the buttons of his shirt. Finally, my fingers touch the material of his tie, and I tug on it benevolently.

His tie unravels between my fingertips, and he moans softly when I introduce my kisses to his jawline, gingerly making my way to his lips. Aching tension between the two of us builds with a gentle persuasion of my kisses.

Harry breaths heavily, and his hands squeeze at my waist with a sense of frustration laced to them. Then, with a long, liquid kiss that rushes lust through us, his fingers dig into the material of my shirt.

Unchaining wild, delicious feelings brew inside me, eagerly demanding to escape with every moment that passes by. I feel him pull me closer, the tension at the edge of his fingertips kneading into the material.

I press my body against him, his fingers bunching my shirt even further, "Anastasia, we can't," Harry breaks our kiss with a whisper, putting space between us. He softens his eyes and shakes his head, "We are being watched," Harry breathes, "Camera's aren't cut to this room."

"Cut them, please?"

"I can't… How about later?"

I roll my eyes, irritated with him, "No."

Harry chuckles and begins to adjust his tie, clearing his throat, "I don't think you want the rest of the team watching… I get off at nine tonight. Wait up for me?"

"I think one of my executive orders as Queen is that we no longer have to schedule these things." I gesture towards the small space between us. "I'm tired of it."

It has been a hassle to get alone time with him for quite some time, and there's always something happening or someone interrupting.

"Take it up with security."

"You are security." I point out, irritarted to say the least.

"Well," Harry laughs, "I will have to have a code word with Matthew for when to cut the surveillance."

"Yeah, you get on that," I respond, taking my pen out of his pocket and sitting back down on my chair. "Can I ask you something?" I softly ask.

Harry narrows his eyes down on me, "Not sure I like the sound of this, but sure," Harry nods his head.

"This is private," I inform him.

"You can speak; nobody can hear us. They can just see us," Harry flicks his head to his side, subtly gesturing towards the hidden camera in the painting over the fireplace.

I compose myself for a moment before I take a leap of faith, "What happened with Victoria?"

"Uhm, she died?" Harry is confused.

"No, I mean the story."

I want to know the story he managed to spin to the press. I know he tends to release stories when he can’t get the Palace social media team involved.

"She was found. Louis got the coroner report back, and it was a snake bite. Unfortunately, she chose the wrong day to go hiking," Harry responds with a shrug.

"And Henry?"

Harry takes a breath and heavily sighs, "Do you not read the tabloids?" Harry sighs. I can tell that he doesn’t want to have this conversation by the way his jaw clenched and he looked around in an attempt to gain a moment to find an excuse.

"I have not been in the mood to read what the media has to say," I respond.

"Henry... He passed in his sleep peacefully."

"And what happened after the private funeral?" I question, unsure of what happened after the service took place. Against everyone's wishes, I insisted he was given a service, whether he deserved it or not for the events that took place. I didn't want everyone to be heartless. My father wouldn't have wanted such a thing.

"We all went our separate ways, you went to the room, and I went back to work?"

"No, with him. Where is he?"

"Oh," Harry sounds, "That, I cannot tell you."

I cock my head to the side, "You cannot tell me where he was laid to rest?" I am surprised.

Harry shakes his head, "No, I cannot."

"What about the rest of the Aces' like Henry's Dad?"

"Anna, I have a lot of people I am trying to track, just like I have a lot of things I need to do. I can't answer these questions. I need to go though." Harry politely dismisses the conversation.

As much as I want to press further and ask questions for my peace of mind, I know that now isn't the time or the place. "Be careful, okay?"

"Always," Harry nods before leaning down and kissing my cheek, "I love you and stay out of trouble while I am gone."

"No promises," I respond with a smile before he walks out, leaving me alone in the office where most major royal documents are signed.

This office has been used for many years by my father. It has been the places he has signed checks, and he has signed Royal assents— this room has been used for an array of different monumental things, and as I sit here in this room, I can't help but feel a weight on my shoulder intensify. I don't feel at ease as my pen glides across the paper and I sign my name across the lines; I don't feel this task is taken lightly. This office is the starting to place to the world as we know it, this room is where things begin, and as my reign begins, I am not sure my confidence starts here.

Being in the same office my father once sat in, I thought I would feel at ease and feel comfort— I don't. I feel the opposite. My world feels suffocated and anxious. This simple task of signing the lines makes me question my power. What I am doing today is a mandatory and straightforward procedure, it is nothing significant in the sense of signing a new Royal assent or signing the rights of dubbing a fresh Prince or Knight, but it feels as though it is a big deal.

I thought my mother would play a more significant role on my first day. I thought she would be with me to sign these documents and figure out what I am meant to do. But, instead, she seems to be doing her own thing. I don't blame her for not wanting to be a part of things, and the monarch has impacted her more than she would like to admit. To an extent, I think the monarch helped kill her spirits, especially in the last few months with what has been happening. My mother was nice enough to team with Harry to give me what was rightfully mine. Still, I expected to have some help from her— Mother has some insight into things, watched my father run the monarch for years, and knows a few things that I may not have caught onto, but she doesn't want to be a part of it. I have no clue where she is going.

All I know is that Harry is on her service.

♛ ♛ ♛

April 21st

Sitting in my office and staring at the four walls for days' led me to escape into the gardens to get some fresh air. Harry will kill me for coming out here without anyone with me, but I need some space. I am not surviving. I have had multiple meetings with influential people I do not know how to accommodate. I don't know why I am being thrown full force into this. I was hoping for a lighter transition, but that has been far from the case. I cannot keep up with everything. I don't know how my father managed.

The gardens are peaceful and quiet. They have always left me with a sense of calmness. No matter what is happening in my life, walking these gardens gives me a sense of hope. The gardens are blooming later than usual, but the Rhododendrons and Camellias are beginning to bloom.

I take a deep breath in the fresh air and stop wandering as I reach one of the many trees full of pink blossoms. It's breathtaking. The blossom trees leave me in awe every spring. I don't know how the gardeners keep the 39-acre garden at Buckingham Palace looking as unique as it does; everything is immaculate.

Spring-flowering trees are spread throughout the garden, but some areas are more than others. One of my favourite trails is the Queen's Walk. The walk has a vibrant display of trees and camellias. However, I am not sure what it is about the trek that excites me and brings me happiness. I am not sure if it's the outburst of assorted colours or just the quietness and the sound of nature humming.

There are more than two hundred several flowers in the gardens, varying from single flowers to frothy, peony-like efflorescences. There is a touch of everything within the gardens, and everything flows excellently. I bend down and caress my hand delicately to brush against the Blue lilacs that symbolise happiness and tranquillity, something I am longing to feel at the edge of my fingertips. I glance towards the Magenta lilacs and smile to myself, inhaling their scent and deep meaning of love and passion. The firm, sweet, heady scent of the lilacs lingers, and I stand back up, wandering away from the lilacs, leaving them to bloom on their own.

As I walk the small trail, I regard a man who appears out of place. He doesn't seem to belong here in the gardens. Nobody should be out here besides the groundskeepers, the horse trainer or security. The gardens at this time of day are not bustling with staff or anyone. They're withdrawn, which is why I prefer to wander out here. At first, I believe the worst, but my heart rate decreases and my stomach settles as soon as I notice the royal tour guide pamphlet hanging out of his pocket.

"Can I help you?" I challenge from behind, startling the man who seems to be heading towards what we call 'The island within the lake'.

Nobody goes towards the little lake; it is off-limits to most to help maintain its natural environment. I have been out there on a few occasions. It's a beautiful view, something I have always loved, but we keep it off-limits for the wildlife that is out there. We aren't one-hundred per cent on everything in the acres, but we know there is danger. My father told me a story about one of the purple flowers out there. He says it can kill someone in seconds. The poison within the purple flower is vital, so strong that years ago, dipping an arrowhead in the plant would guarantee death to anything it hits. This is how it got the nickname of "wolves bane", as it was used on arrowheads to hunt wolves to ensure they died. As scary as it sounds, it fascinated me. I am not sure how they figured out years ago that dipping an arrow would ensure death. I can only imagine someone came across the wolves bane on accident and used it for their advantage.

The unknown man turns around, and I take in his features, but what catches my eye the most is his button-down shirt. I follow the length of his arms and rest on the edge of his shirt.

"I uh- I have lost my group," the man responds, promptly curtseying as he notices who I am.

The man holds his hand out, prompting me to shake his hand. I stare at the cufflinks on his button-down, intrigued by them. I would expect to see these sorts of cufflinks in vegas or at a place where card games are a fortay, not at a palace and on an ordinary man. One cufflink features a Jack, King, and Queen and the other cufflink features three Aces in a foldable card deck. They're not the ordinary cufflinks, perhaps he is some sort of magician, or he just really likes cards. Who knows?

"Do I pique your interest, Princess?"

I shake my head, letting go of his hand, "I've never seen those kinds of cufflinks."

The man nods his head, his eyes flicking down to his cufflinks, "You never know when you'll need an Ace up your sleeve," the man smiles, seeming mysterious but pleasant in the same manner, "I'll let you be, Princess. Can you direct me back to my crew?"

"You will not be able to get back into the Palace; I will take you," I respond, gesturing along the stone path before I begin to walk towards the palace. “I hope you didn’t touch or pick any flowers,” I comment, noticing the pollen stain at the edge of his white shirt. Of course, I expect children to want to touch and pick the flowers, but not a grown man.

The man shakes his head, and his eyes dart around. A clear indication is lying. I know he picked some of the Lillies; I can see precisely where he snatched them from. I don’t say anything; instead, I change the subject. "So, you got lost in the gardens?"

"Yes, I had stopped to check my phone; I have been expecting a call from a family member; I and when I looked back up, I was alone and standing in the middle of a garden," The man explains, "Quite embarrassing to get lost on a guided tour. I am surprised guards didn't cease me."

“I would be concerned about the gaggle of geese wandering around the fields. They get mean. I'd highly suggest for you not to lose your tour group," I half-smile, unsure of how the tour group left him behind, but it does happen. I remember one occasion where a little kid decided to play hide and seek within the palace. He snuck off from the tour and found himself in the dining hall. It was quite a chaotic mess. I am sure there was some sort of protocol to follow. Harry was the one who found the kid and called off the protocol. He didn't fully tell me about the day, but he briefly explained that it was hectic trying to lock half a palace down to find a lost tourist hiding amongst the furniture.

"I don't intend to. But, again, I am sorry for the inconvenience."

"It is okay," I shake my head, trying to be reassuring despite him trying to hide the fact he took a few Lillies.

Mistakes happen, it is easy to get lost at the palace, hence why there is a tour guide, but I assume I need to find a new guide since this group lost a man. I glide my fingers over the touch system that opens the doors through fingerprint and a unique key.

I push the door open and allow the man inside the palace, "Your tour group is right up there," I flick my head towards the small area at the end of the hallway. I can hear the tour guide talking about one room containing a magnificent array of paintings by Rubens, Van Dyck and Canaletto.

The man clears his throat and politely nods before hurrying down the hallway, where I watch him join the group of tourists who are more fascinated with the paintings than with me. A little girl notices me and waves. I smile and wave back.

I watch the small group for a while, mainly watching the man who seems to settle into the group and fit in. I smile to myself, happy to have helped a lost soul wandering the palace before I turn around. I gasp and put my hand over my chest, "Christ, you can't do that," I sigh, catching my breath as Harry stands in front of me with barely an inch of space between us, "Any closer and you'd have been on top of me." I press my hands to his chest.

"Have I not taught you to be aware of your surroundings?"

"I was," I respond, clearly lying. I know exactly what he is going to allude to. If I were aware of my surroundings, I would have been aware of how close he was to me. I already know he is going to give me hell about it.

Harry gently takes my hand and glances around, making sure nobody can see us before he opens a secret door, and we step into a different room. He closes the door, and I lean on the wall, taking a few deep breaths to bring my heart rate back down. "You alright?" Harry kisses my forehead before giving me a soft smile.

"No, you about gave me a heart attack," I respond, slapping his arm lightly, "One of these days, I will do the same to you."

"You give me heart attacks daily," Harry murmurs, his hands dropping to my side and resting on my waist. "In all seriousness, you need to be more aware, Anna. I could have been a murderer."

"That is what I have you for, to fight off murderers." I smile up at him.

Harry rolls his eyes, "You don't make my job easy, that is for sure," Harry chuckles.

"Mhm," I hum, "So why were you hovering so close? What do I owe this visit?" I request. Harry benevolently pulls me closer, and I settle into his warm embrace, feeling at ease for the first time in a few days.

"When I saw that you kicked Oliver off your service, I figured you were at your witts ends."

I rest my cheek on his chest and let out a breath, his arms tightening around me and holding me in the silence.

For the first time in a while, silence feels like a treasured moment. Nobody is requesting me, nobody telling me what to do or how to do it, nobody calling my name or needing me to be Queen. For the first time in a while, I can breathe and enjoy the silence without feeling the excessive need to cry or have a panic attack.

Oliver seems to always cop the shity end of the stick with me. He has from the moment he was on my service the first time. Earlier, my emotions got the better of me. I couldn't take it anymore and needed time alone. Nobody understood that I needed to compose myself. Everyone was suffocating me. When I managed to escape the chaos of everyone, Oliver was on my tail, following me everywhere. I couldn't take it. I needed utter silence and alone time. This time, I didn't threaten to fire him. I simply told him he wasn't on my service and to leave. Surprisingly, he listened to me.

"You can't kick him off your service."

"I needed space," I respond, lifting my head from his chest and stretching away from his embrace. "You don't get it," I mutter, turning my back towards him. I swallow hard and look up at the ceiling, doing my best not to allow the tears to fall from my eyes that are welling up.

Harry stays silent for a minute before he clears his throat, "Anastasia, sweetheart, do you want to talk about it?"

I don't respond. I stare at the wall and wipe my tears away, not wanting him to see me cry over everything. I am stronger than this. I don't cry when I can't do things.

The flooring creeks and Harry's shoes sound against the floors before his hands are on my waist again, "Anna," Harry whispers, tenderly tugging my waist and turning me to face him. Before he can do or say anything, I bury myself into his chest, still not wanting him to see me cry. He has seen me cry so many times in the last few months, and I am tired of it. I am tired of crying and feeling everything at once to feeling nothing. There is no in-between when it comes to how I feel. I am either all there, or I am not.

Harry holds me close, his arm tightly around me as his hand rubs circles on my back, "Okay," he whispers, trying to comfort me soothingly. "The other night, I was so tired, frustrated and stressed that I fired one of the security guys, and I got enraged at Matthew to feel better. We argued for a good thirty minutes before we stopped, and he just laughed."

"What?" I sniffle, surprised to be hearing of such a thing. It is rare to see Harry lose his shit on people, perhaps I am not around when it happens, but I don’t hear or see this side of him.

"Yeah, I lost my shit the other night. It happens, Anna. It happens to all of us, and it's okay to lose your shit and let it out. It is okay to want time alone and to cry. You don't need to hide it, especially from me."

"I'm tired of crying, Harry."

"It's part of the grieving process… But everyone has their moments, some more than others. Anastasia," Harry trails off, his hand moving to force me to look at him. Instead of fighting him like initially planned, I look up at him, "Life isn't easy, especially yours, but it will be okay."

"I'm the only one not okay."

Harry shakes his head, "No, you're not. Your mother cries too."

"Only seen her cry twice, the hospital and the funeral."

Harry takes a breath, his eyes softening as he opens his mouth to speak, but he stops himself. Harry bites his lip, pondering his thoughts and what to say. I cock my head to the side, unsure of how to read him or what his thoughts are. "Anna, sometimes things aren't always as they appear."

"What do you mean?"

"I have to get back to work," Harry dismisses the conversation, his hand raising to wipe away my tears, "I have to put a plan in place for your first event as Queen; I will be done in a few hours, do you want to go out for dinner?"

"Like leaving the palace?"

Harry nods his head, "Yes, you haven't left since coronation day, and I think you need to have some sort of normalcy."

I nod my head and smile at him, "I would like that a lot," I agree.

Honestly, since my father's passing, I haven't left the palace much or at all unless for royal events. I haven't felt the desire to go out and be in public, nor have I been allowed. Security is always high, and I am always on a high-risk alert. I have become accustomed to the high-risk level threat and haven't even asked to go out. I figured at some point. Someone would be released into the world where I could be normal for a few minutes.

"Be ready to leave at six; Matthew will take you to my car." Harry leans down and kisses my lips lightly, "And keep an eye on your surroundings," Harry winks, wiping my cheek with the pad of his thumb one more time. "Oliver is back on your service, but he will keep his distance, okay?"

I agree, "Okay," I respond before he walks back out through the secret door where he steps back into the initial hallway, and I sojourn in the room he brought me into. I walk across the red carpet and take a seat in the leather chair. I slip off my heels and lift my legs onto the leather chair, tucking them under me before I place my arms on the armrest.

Oliver walks in offers me a small smile, "Permission to enter?"

“Smartass," I mutter with a slight chuckle, "I'm sorry, Oliver."

"It's okay, Her highness."

"Is it okay if you make sure nobody comes in here?" I question, "I would like some time alone," I softly instruct, resting my head on my arms.

"As you wish," Oliver agrees, exercising towards the door and stepping out, leaving me alone in a room where very few will find me.

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfiction #imagine harry styles #harry styles prompts #harry styles blurbs #harry styles writing #fanfiction #harry styles fanfictions #Imagine harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles one shots #harry styles preferences #1d imagine

36 notes · View notes

shozaii · 4 years

Note

Mitra Mitra Mitra!!! I love you my precious child! Can I request aku x reader for looking after them when they're sick! You get to choose gender and whether it's headcanons or a scenario! Much love <3333

(a/n): cami cami cami!! i love you soooo much more mother!!🥺🥺🥺❤❤❤ i decided to go with a lil bit of both since you deserve this treat UwU💖 enjoyyyy!!! and i apologize for taking so long hhh😭

masterlist.

♗ akutagawa is pretty much the kind of person who would not understand what exactly is going on. he’s already caught up with his coughing and such, but when he sees you falling sick, his emotions are mixed up. ranging from, “did i infect them?” or “i thought they were strong.”

♗ he possibly found out after returning to your shared apartment, and suddenly he sees you wiping your nose with some tissues........definitely not ten more already being in the trash. aku panic mode? aku panic mode.

♗ he panics. the first thing he does is run up to you because he thought someone used their ability on you, making you go all weak and tired. i’d like to believe he would grab hold of your face and hands very softly, worried that he might be too rough🥺 literally i can imagine his first question would be “who hurt you?”

♗ he brushes your fallen hair strands away from your already heating up face. straight up paces back and forth when he finds you coughing too. walks up to you, and tells you to open your mouth.

♗ “why...?”

♗ “.....to check if you have blood, duh. you’ve been coughing non-stop.”

♗ he’s very, very worried. no doubt. he wouldn’t want anything to happen to you, moreover getting what he already has.

♗ there are times where he would give you baths— very rare tbh. most of the time it’s only you because he thoroughly enjoys the way you handle his body with care. i would say he learns little by little; and proceeds to use whatever he learnt on you.

♗ to which a huGE idea pops up in his head. he reminisces the times you have cared for him. anything that would make him cough less. always, always reminding him to take his necessary medication (he only got them after you came into his life. he does noT take crap from anyone but you). giving him warm bubble baths, as you massaged his back. trips to the onsen; chuuya helps you with that, though it could be a pain even if it’s just to bring him there. telling him to drink water is his throat gets dry. once he had a fever, so you placed a cold towel on his forehead. he wouldn’t admit it; but he was so, so happy he got to lay in bed, especially with you by his side.

♗ so yes. this time, for sure. he will do absolutely anything to make you feel better.

ˏ 𓏧 𓏲 𓏲 𓏲 𓋒 𓏲 𓏲 𓏲 𓏲 𓏧 ˎ ˏ 𓏧 𓏲 𓏲 𓏲 𓋒 𓏲 𓏲 𓏲 𓏲 𓏧 ˎ

he takes in a deep breath, grabs hold of both your shoulders, and looks right into your eyes. “l-.....let’s go get you a bath. under one condition.” still holding you, he looked down onto the floor - to which you could already tell he was blushing like crazy. your only response was a sniffle, with a soft “what?”, chuckling.

“just.....just let me know if i do hurt you, okay? i wouldn’t say i could execute it efficiently. i try.” your puzzled look turned into a softer, more calmer phase as you cupped his face with your hands. “you’re always doing amazing, ryuu. trust me. though i don’t want you to get sick—,”

“nonsense. the sickness is afraid of me,” he said, maintaining his sharp, stoic look.

sighing, you had to oblige. ryuu was a person tough to convince. but whatever he’s doing was definitely worth more than every treasure standing on mother earth. he made sure you got into the tub; not before putting his hand in to check the temperature. once you got in, he kneeled down and pulled his sleeves up.

what made your heart go all soft was that he did not complain one bit. no grumbling, not a furrowed expression to be seen. just a soft, concerned look in his face - with his hands trembling every once in a while.

“aku....? is everything alright?” you questioned, holding his hand.

“d-don’t worry about me. like i said, i don’t want you getting hurt.”

“and i would never get hurt by my love. i can tell, darling.”

his cheekbones was painted with a soft shade of pink, as he looked away from you, continuing the relaxing massage on your back. it was so good, all you could feel right now was that you were floating.

you felt your muscles relax even more, with your shoulders decrease in tension, your chest slowly unwinding from the tight knots it was once in. your body still had those uncomfortable pains, but just something from his presence began to take most of them away. you couldn’t help but smile at how good he was getting, and how capable he was when taking care of someone he cares for.

his sister came up to your mind; something that made you a lot more happier.

ˏ 𓏧 𓏲 𓏲 𓏲 𓋒 𓏲 𓏲 𓏲 𓏲 𓏧 ˎ ˏ 𓏧 𓏲 𓏲 𓏲 𓋒 𓏲 𓏲 𓏲 𓏲 𓏧 ˎ

♗ he knows you have a thing for his clothes, but half of the time he doesn’t want you to put them on. not because he hates it, but rather because he gets so flustered he would not and cannot function. try asking him for his clothes when you’re not doing well. he. would. never. hesitate.

♗ “do you need anything? what else am i supposed to do?”

♗ he is quite the picky eater and you do encourage him to eat a lot. so imagine him taking care of you. he gets advice from gin if he ever does need help with the types of food he should be giving you. otherwise that it’s just observation from what you have given him.

♗ he’s just vv nervous!!! doesn’t want you getting hurt; he wouldn’t forgive himself for doing so hhhhh ;-; other than that it’s just aku being aku, the cutie patootie he is ehehe !

♗ cuddles for you and you only. periodt.

♗ will even go as far as to wrap you up in a blanket, and then providing extra warmth by holding you close. he has this smug expression whenever he teases you, so consider seeing this during the cuddle session UwU!!

♗ “i’m going to try something.” and he plants kisses on your cheeks, your nose, forehead, bare shoulders. he doesn’t show it, but he’s very attentive of your sensitive parts. he needs to see you smile because he knows falling sick is tough. painful and full of sorrow. so when you start giggling, he gives off this smile.

♗ “ryuu,,, thank you,” you buried yourself deeper into his embrace, sleep finally taking over.

(a/n): omgomg finally!!! i got this done kjskdjshjdbj!!! camiiiii i really hope you enjoy this grrrhrhrrh🥺i honestly have no idea how exactly it turned out but right now i’m hoping that you enjoy this hhhh :’))))

143 notes · View notes

writer1 · 3 years

Text

The Hidden Secret

Warnings: Transformation, fear, self hatred, wounds, blood, ghost, body horror, mention of canon death, swearing.

A/N: This is our first fic as part of our fic series The Big, Not So Bad Wolves AU. collab with @ahsokatano-thetogruta

Hunter bites his lip as he paces around his room nervously, he doesn’t know what they are going to do. The Marauder had been damaged on their last mission, so Tech had to crash it on a remote planet, unluckily though, this planet has a long full moon cycle. Hunter pinches the bridge of his nose, they can’t leave the marauder until it's over, no one can know that they are werewolves.

It had happened during one of their first missions, Tech had been bit by an unknown creature, he had been fine, until the full moon cycle. As soon as he had stepped into the moonlight, he had transformed into a werewolf, and in his unknowing state he bit the rest of them. It took until the full moon cycle ended for them to come back to themselves, but luckily, that was just the first time. Every other time they’ve transformed, they have been themselves, albeit, with a bit more wolf-like behaviors.

Now they have to stop at a planet with a full moon every month or two to get some energy out, but now that they have Echo and their resident ghost around, it's been two months since that's happened, and they are all getting antsy, Hunter can already feel the pull of the full moon outside, but they all resist it, it's not that they don’t trust Fives and Echo, not at all. It's only that those two are new, and they are just starting to trust them, and if they find out they are werewolves, it could ruin the bit of trust that has been built.

“Hunter?” Hunter turns to see Crosshair, Tech and Wrecker walk in and close the door behind them. “What do we do, Hunter? We are going to need to go outside for repairs, and Echo will get suspicious if we only send him.” Tech tells him, and Hunter sighs. “I don’t know, the best idea I have is to wait it out. But we cannot let Fives and Echo know, at least, not yet.” Everyone nods, and Crosshair scrunches his eyes. “We need to tell them soon, I can’t go much longer without having a run to get rid of this pent up energy.” Hunter nods. “We will, but they don’t trust us yet, especially not Fives.” Everyone gets a look of sadness. “Can’t believe he was killed by a brother.” Wrecker whispers angrily, and Hunter nods. “Yeah, and he has major trust issues, so he might get really scared of us if we transform, especially with what we look like.” Everyone nods, hoping that when they do tell, they don’t lose their new found brothers.

xxx

“What do we do, Fives!” Echo yells as he paces around his room, Fives is hovering over his bed, legs crossed. “I’m not sure, but you need to calm down, Echo.” Echo glares at Fives. “Don’t tell me to calm down, you're not the one who could transform when they step outside and into the moonlight.” Echo's breathing quickens and deepens as he says that and his pupil's dilate, which is a warning sign that he's being pulled and tempted to go outside and into the moonlight, so Fives stays calm to keep Echo calm and starts to distract him from the want. “Echo, hey, come back to me, Vod. You have to resist it, or the others they'll…” He doesn't finish his sentence because it'll stress Echo out even more, but he seems to get what he's trying to say when Fives notices Echo's breathing has slowed down dramatically.

Fives sighs once Echo calms down. “I know, but you know that I would never let anyone hurt you, ever!” Echo nods, tearing up. “It's just that...they will probably react the same way that Shiny did back on the mission on Kashyyyk, when they could've killed me if Kix hadn't treated my wound quickly enough. You've seen how accurate Crosshair's shots are, and Wrecker...well, he can lift a whole Kriffing gunship, there's no telling what he could do to me--” “Echo, calm down, it's going to be okay. I'll be there for you, and I'll never let anyone else hurt you, ever.” Fives had noticed Echo shaking, so he had stepped in before Echo caused himself anymore stress and pain. Echo smiles sadly, but he's thankful that he has Fives right by him, always.

Fives pulls him close and hugs him. “I won’t let them find out, you just have to stay inside, okay? We can say that… that… you're sick!! That's it, we can say that you're sick.” Fives pulls away and smiles, making Echo give his own. “Okay, thanks Fives!!” Fives smiles and pulls him into a Keldabe kiss. “Of course, I’ll always take care of my twin. Now you just lay down and get some rest, I’ll go talk to them.” Echo nods, and with that, Fives phases through the wall. On his way to find Hunter, who's probably in his room practicing his knife skills like he usually does, Fives notices that the air seems eerily tense, not to mention quieter than usual.

The sound of Wrecker's loud and booming laughter couldn't be heard anywhere in the ship. He can't even hear Crosshair's usual grumpy voice from anywhere. Not even the sound of Tech tinkering with a project, or multiple at one time like he usually does. Fives reaches Hunter's room, knocking on the door. He could just phase through, but being a ghost means that there are rules in place like, for example, not phasing straight into someone's room without permission. He wouldn't anyway, but it was brought up during a small meeting and the bad batch had after a couple of incidents when Fives had accidentally phased into a room with no warning.

The first time was in the refresher. Echo had asked Fives to grab something for him, but then he hadn't even thought about the fact that someone could have been in there. But they had. It was Hunter, and what's worse is that he was standing there naked, staring wide eyed at Fives in the mirror, not sure what to do. Fives rushed out immediately while carrying the hair gel, not realising that it can’t phase through with him. As soon as he hears the clatter, he floats as fast as he can back down the hall to his and Echo's room.

Fives had seen for a quick second that the left side of his body is also tattooed with skeleton bones and features. Echo is confused as to why Fives' face is red, but then he chuckles when Fives tells him what happened. A few minutes later, there's a knock at the door, in which Echo answers it and opens the door to see Hunter, holding the hair gel out to him. “I believe Fives came to get this for you?” He sounds a little nervous, but not as much as Fives feels right now, who is hiding and invisible from the guilt.

The second time was when he phased into Crosshair's room and not his own. Crosshair was in the process of getting changed and had nothing on. He was pissed as hell and was the one who wanted the rule of no phasing into private rooms in place. Fives completely understands and respects that rule.

Only a moment after Fives knocks, the door hisses open. Hunter stands in the doorway, smiling. “Fives, what can I do for'ya?” Fives smiles back, seeing that Tech, Crosshair and Wrecker are also there. He doesn't think much of it, about them all being in Hunter's room, but he is slightly confused, but decides not to bring it up. “I've just come to let you know that Echo is feeling sick.” He explains to them, making the others worry.

Tech is the one to ask “He is? Has he tried getting some fresh air? The atmosphere outside is breathable--” “No! Uh, no, he hasn't. But he'll be okay.” Fives interjects, hoping that the others won't suspect anything by the way he just lashed out. Suddenly, Crosshair groans, making Fives raise an eyebrow. “Is something wrong?” Fives asks, but Crosshair just shakes his head. “No, just worried about Echo.” Fives keeps looking at him suspiciously, then he nods. “Okay, then, I’ll go back and see Echo.” they nod and Fives floats off, when Hunter closes the door, Crosshair groans again. “Now we won’t be getting out for sure.” Hunter sighs. “Yeah, but we need to worry about Echo, he’s sick.” Crosshair gets a guilty look. “Yeah, you’re right.” “We can always open the door a bit? Let some fresh air in?” Tech offers and everyone nods. “Sounds good, you go do that Tech, I’m gonna go and check on our sick brother.” Hunter leaves the room after that, followed by everyone else.

xxx

Fives phases back into his and Echo’s room, Echo is laying in his bed, smiling when he sees his twin. “Hey Fives, how’d it go?” Fives smiles. “It went well, they bought it and didn't suspect a thing.” Echo sighs in relief as he sits up, swinging his prosthetic legs over the edge of the bed and stands up, pulling Fives into a hug. “Thank you, Vod.” He whispers softly, glad that he has such an amazing brother like Fives. “You're welcome. Though remember, you're sick, yeah?” He pulls away and winks at him, making Echo chuckle. Fives has always been goofy, but he'll do absolutely anything when it comes to helping his brothers. Echo nods “Yeah, definitely.” He winks back.

Fives pats his back gently “Anyways, I'm going to go and talk about explosives and explosions with Wrecker now, I'll see you in a bit, Vod.” Echo chuckles at that, knowing how enthusiastic the two get about the subject. He knows for sure if they had the chance to meet when Fives was alive, they would be the best of friends and cause chaos together whenever the time came. But it never will now because Fives can't touch any sort of gun or explosive, as it'll mess with his new ghost form. “Okay, later!” Echo calls to him as Fives phases out of their room.

After a moment, Echo decides that he'll just go and read a book with a hot drink, to make his sickness seem more convincing to the others. He leaves the room with a book and makes his way to the common area. While pouring himself some already boiled caf, he sees Tech and Hunter enter. Tech walks over to the door while Hunter walks over to him. “You okay, Echo? Fives told us you're sick.” He asks and Echo nods, eyes a little closed as he readjusts his body language to seem more energyless and exhausted, also using a groggy tone of voice to seem more convincing that he's sick, coughing a little. “Yeah, I am, but some rest will help I think.” Echo says with the best 'I'm not feeling well but I'll stay strong' smile he can muster.

It's fake, yet convincing because Hunter smiles sympathetically, patting his shoulder. “Well, rest up then.” Echo nods, seeing Tech walking over from where he opened the door. Echo's glad that they can have the door open, luckily the moonlight doesn't shine completely into the room. Tech then pipes up “I'll be working on a project in my room, so you know where to find me if you need any help.” Echo nods in thanks as the two walk away to do whatever.

Echo sighs and walks to the couch, facing away from the door. The urge to go outside and into the moonlight is too tempting, but he fights it easily when he becomes too engrossed in his book. Too engrossed that he loses track of time. Too engrossed that he forgets about his cup of caf next to him that's going cold. Too engrossed that he doesn't even notice the danger silently sneaking up behind him. He hears a little bit of shuffling behind him, then he snickers and sighs “You're still no ninja, Fives.” Echo laughs again, but then he freezes, Fives would have said something by now. “FIVES-AAHHH!!!” He yells out, turning his head to see a creature biting into his shoulder, dragging him over the back of the sofa and onto the floor. He panics as it drags him to the ramp of the Havoc Marauder, closer towards-- The moonlight!! “No! No no no, Fives!!!” Echo feels fear encasing his body, as he feels the pull from the moonlight, he wants to go in it so badly, but he also doesn't want to, not at all. “Echo!!

xxx

Hunter hears the yell and goes running as fast as he can, he runs out of his room to see Tech, Crosshair and Wrecker do the same, as Fives floats out. “Echo!!” He goes flying, Hunter and the others following behind. They get out to see a monster dragging Echo to the door of the Marauder, Crosshair grits his teeth, angry that something is hurting his brother. As Fives grabs onto Echo, the beast pulls them both outside, Crosshair takes aim with his rifle and shoots it, hitting its eye. It squeals and lets go of Echo, running off, but the damage is done.

Echo stares up at Fives with fear in his eyes, but then he just feels glad and relieved that he's finally able to have some moonlight shine on him. Though after a few moments of feeling good and satisfied, he groans as discomfort and pain runs through him. The moonlight has made its course through his body, and he’s transforming now. He knows his body won’t be his own,that he won’t look like himself anymore, and it makes him feel so scared and uncomfortable. He can feel the rest of their gazes on him, making him feel way worse about all of this. It has only been Fives with him in the past, but now with four new brothers here watching him too, who he hasn't known for very long, makes him nervous and terrified that they'll hurt him.

xxx

“Fives!! Is he--” Hunter stops mid sentence as they hear Echo groan, they stay back from the moonlight, as they all see Echo start to grow bigger, white fur sprouting. “Wait! He’s… he’s--” “A werewolf.” Hunter finishes Wrecker’s sentence, then Echo looks up at them as Fives stands in front of him, he whimpers and before anyone can say anything, he runs as he continues to transform. “Echo, wait!!” Hunter and the others go to run after him, they know that he must think they hate him, hell, they thought he’d feel the same to them. Fives pushes Hunter back and away from the entrance, blocking everyone's route. “No! I won’t let you hurt him!!” Hunter raises an eyebrow. “Fives, no. We won’t hurt him.” Hunter tries again, but again, Fives pushes him back. He looks angry, but there is another look, a look Hunter knows all too well, protective. It’s a look he has seen on himself many times.

“How can I believe that?! Everyone else wanted to!! I won’t let anyone hurt him ever again!” Hunter doesn’t ask Fives what he means by again, not right now, he’ll ask that later. “Fives, we are werewolves too.” Hunter tells him, putting both hands against his own chest to make a point, his brothers all nod. “I don’t believe you.” Fives growls, making Hunter sigh. “Fives, you need to listen, I’m not lying.” Fives flickers, showing them his appearance with a blaster wound through his chest. They feel sad and horrible for Fives, but for now, all that matters is Echo.

Without another thought, Hunter sticks his arm out and into the moonlight holding it there until the effect of the light has made it all the way through his body, making him groan the same way Echo had done a few moments ago. “F-Fives, let me out. P-Plea-se, now!!” Hunter growls as Fives turns back to his normal self and steps out of the way and Hunter stumbles down the steps, falling to his knees and allowing the full moon to shroud him. Hunter yells and groans. It's not usually this painful because he steps into the light straight away, not like a minute ago when Fives kept on stopping him and he didn't get enough light to allow him to transform as comfortably as possible and not as slowly as he is now.

Fives watches with wide eyes, not in horror as he's seen Echo transform a few times before, but from surprise that Hunter was telling him the truth, that he is a werewolf. Hunter sprouts dark brown fur all over his body as he pulls his bandana off of his head, his bones rearranging and cracking as he grows a tail, long and fluffy. He grits his teeth, bearing them as they become sharper and his face elongates into a snout. Fives turns to look at the others who seem to be waiting. Hunter huffs as the transformation finishes, the shirt of his blacks torn to shreds around him while his pants are shredded and ripped.

He stands and turns to look at Fives with glowing, yellow eyes. “You believe me now?” He asks, his voice deep and gruff with a slight growl. “I don't think that I really have an option there.” Fives chuckles nervously, feeling bad that he didn't believe them, but he also had a reason not to trust them, that they could have hurt Echo. Tech then walks forward, a little closer to the door. “Can we step out now?” He asks as he removes his goggles and Fives doesn't wait before stepping out of the way and letting the other three bad batchers through the door and into the light of the full moon. But before Tech gets out, Fives places a hand on his shoulder. “Do you need me to hold your goggles?” He asks nervously, making Tech smile. “If you don’t mind.” He hands Fives the goggles, and Fives smiles and holds them gently as Tech walks out quickly.

They all fall to their knees and the same happens to them, but instead of the slightly slower transformation that Hunter had, they change a lot quicker, but the uncomfortable feeling still stays. They groan and let the transformation do its thing, growing bigger, faces elongating into a snout, sprouting fur all over their bodies and their voices becoming deeper. Wrecker's fur is a dark brown like Hunters, while Tech's fur is a light brown, whereas Crosshair's is grey. They all stretch out on all fours before standing on their back legs, so much taller than what they were before.

Hunter puts his bandana back on, and Fives floats over and hands Tech his goggles, who adjusts the straps so that they fit on his head. Hunter then turns to Fives. “Any ideas where Echo may have gone?” Fives thinks for a moment, then snaps his fingers. “A cave? Or a large bush, anywhere he can hide really but those are two places I’ve found him before.” Hunter nods, then he turns to Tech, Crosshair and Wrecker. “Okay, Tech, you and wrec--” Hunter freezes as his ears flick up, and he hears soft whimpers, the voice is deeper, but he knows it’s Echo’s. “Scratch that, I can hear him. And he sounds like he’s in pain.” Fives doesn’t understand why Echo would be in pain, but then it hits him. “Shit! His cybernetics, they wouldn’t grow with him.” Everyone gets worried looks, none of them had even thought of Echo’s prosthetics, not even Tech. “Shit, that is not good.” Cross says as Wrecker nods. “Yeah, that's really bad.” he says as Tech sighs. “Okay, we need to get to Echo now, so I can get those off of him. Which way is Echo.” Tech asks, and Hunter nods. “He’s this way.” with that they all go running, Fives floating behind.

Hunter keeps an eye on Fives as they run, making sure he can keep up. He follows the trail of blood and large footprints, so it doesn’t take them long to come to a cave. “He’s in there.” The others can hear the whimpers now, making their ears press back. “What do we do? He might be afraid of us.” Crosshair tells Hunter, making him sigh, then he turns to Fives. “Can you go in first? He might be more comfortable with his twin?” Fives nods and floats in, looking around, then he see’s Echo. “Echo!” Fives flies over as Echo looks up, tears in his eyes, that's when Fives see’s it. Echo’s cybernetics are stuck on his legs, cutting into the skin, making him whine, the blood from the deep cuts soaking into his white fur. “Oh, Echo.” Fives says sadly as he slowly sits down and pulls Echo’s head into his lap, he changes into his form with just his blacks, to make Echo more comfortable. He also looks at Echo’s arm, which is in the same state as his legs.

“Don’t you worry, we’ll get ya all fixed up, I promise.” Fives says and Echo whimpers softly. “Fives.” He nuzzles his head into Fives stomach and starts to sob hard, making Fives himself tear up. “Shh, it’s okay Echo, you're alright.” Fives runs his hand through the white fur on Echo’s head, feeling the little metal nubs underneath. He hears a crack and looks over to see Hunter slowly making his way into the cave, followed by the others. “Hey, look. The others are here too.” Echo whines and keeps his face hidden in Fives’ stomach, Hunter’s ears press back when he looks at Echo’s legs. “Kriff, the transformation did a number on him.” Crosshair whispers, making Echo whine and try to move his legs. “Woah, no moving Echo, at least, not right now.” Fives tells him, then he looks up. “Think you can get them off, Tech?” Tech nods, and goes to come over, but Echo curls up as much as he can, sobbing into Fives.

“No, please don't! I'm a monster, don't touch me.” Hunter’s ears press back, so do the others', but Hunter looks over to Fives and Echo. “How long have you been a werewolf, Echo?” Hunter asks, gently, he knows it couldn’t have been as long as they have been. Echo whimpers so Fives answers. “Only about three, maybe four months at most before the Citadel.” Hunter’s eyes widen, Echo’s only freshly turned, well, technically. “He’s never really been in his wolf form around other people other than me, Rex, Kix and a shiny who almost killed him, still don’t know how Rex managed to keep him quiet, and he’s only transformed a few times.” Fives explains, and Hunter gives Echo a soft look. “He’s new to this, we can help.” Crosshair says, and everyone nods. Then Hunter slowly moves closer. “Hey, Echo. Can ya look at me please?” Echo shakes his head, continuing to hide his face against Fives’ stomach.

Hunter slowly moves closer. “Please, Echo? We won’t hurt you, I promise.” Echo shakes his head again, but Hunter gets closer and goes to place his clawed hand on Echo’s shoulder. “Hunter, wait--” Hunter's clawed hand touches Echo’s shoulder, and he spins around and strikes with his claws. “No!” Echo yells, not wanting anyone else other than Fives to touch him in this form. Hunter yelps from the pain when Echo draws blood on his arm, not able to see it well on his dark fur, but the way that Echo's claws are covered in his blood tells him otherwise. Echo whimpers when he sees four werewolves standing there. He sits up and then pulls Fives close with his one arm. Echo has such a strong bond with Fives that Fives will never phase through him.

Echo growls as he continues to protect Fives. Fives then tried to calm him down. “Echo, Vod, it's okay. It's Hunter and the others, look at them.” Echo scrunches his face and does so, seeing the black fur shaped as a skull on the dark brown wolf, then the crosshair on the grey wolf's face. “Y-You're werewolves too?” They all nod at Echo, making him press his ears back and whine, looking at the claw marks on Hunter's arm. Hunter covers it and smiles “It's okay, don't worry. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have tried to touch you while you're in the state that you're in.” He says.

Echo shakes his head “It's okay, I just...don't like others, other than Fives, touching me while I'm like this because I'm scared. But I'll try and work on it.” Echo smiles but then winces and whines at the pain in his legs and right arm. Everyone frowns as they want nothing more but to get them off and relieve him of the pain. “We can help you, Echo. Just trust us, okay?” Tech says softly, hoping that Echo will let them help him. Echo whines, but then the feel of Fives petting the fur on his head soon makes him relax. “Shh, it's alright, Echo.” He says softly, giving Echo a Keldabe kiss, making him hum and press into it.

When Tech walks closer, Echo tenses but relaxes, especially when Fives takes his clawed hand in his much smaller hands, squeezing it gently to let Echo know that he's here for him. “Okay,” Tech starts, “this is probably going to be painful, so I'm very sorry in advance.” He smiles, then begins to tug at the clasps that are cutting into the flesh on his arm. Echo howls in pain, yelling before hiding his face into Fives' shoulder, whimpering and whining as Tech has to dig his claws in ever so slightly to pry out his droid arm. “There, it’s off.” Everyone’s eyes widen as they look at the bloody mess of Echo’s stub, then Tech sighs. “I’m going to remove your legs now, okay?” Echo nods, and Tech gets to work, he rips Echo’s pants so that they are more like shorts. Then he gets to work prying them off as Echo howls in pain. It takes a few minutes for each leg, since the metal is sunk deep into his skin, but once he’s done everyone can see the bloody wounds. “We should get him back to the Marauder, and get him some bandages.” Tech tells him, and Hunter nods. He turns to Wrecker. “Think you can carry him?” Wrecker smiles wildly. “Of course, he’s easy.” Wrecker walks over and gently kneels down to Echo.

“Am I okay to pick you up?” Echo nods nervously, and Wrecker gently puts an arm under Echo’s stumps, and Another around his back, then he picks him up. “There, you comfortable?” Echo nods, hissing a little when the stump of his arm hits Wrecker’s fur. “Yeah, I’m good.” Wrecker nods, then Fives stands up and blinks his armor back on. “Okay, let's head back to the marauder.” Hunter says, and they all nod. Crosshair stands beside Echo and Wrecker, giving Echo a rare smile. “We’ll take good care of you, Reg. Don’t worry.” Echo nods, and they all walk back to the marauder. Once they get back, the six of them walk up the ramp and into the common area, setting him gently on the floor as Tech runs and grabs some bacta and bandages, then he returns.

“This should help take care of the wounds, do you want me to put it on, or Fives?” Tech asks, and then as everyone figured, Echo asks for-- “Fives, please.” Tech smiles and nods, handing the things to Fives, the others sit around the room as Fives dresses Echo’s wounds, who hisses slightly every little bit. Echo sighs once his wounds are covered in bacta and wrapped, then he looks guiltily at Hunter “I’m sorry, for not telling you.” Hunter looks at him and gives him a smile. “It’s okay, we also didn’t tell you. And we were newly turned once too, we know how scary it is.” Echo gives a small smile, that Hunter returns. “Who tried to hurt you, Reg?” Echo and Fives both look over to Crosshair, who does not look pleased. “Wha--” “Fives said a shiny tried to kill you once, I’d like to know who, and how it happened.” Echo’s ears press back as Fives gets a look of anger.

“It was Echo’s second and last transformation, we were stuck on the planet Kashyyyk.” Fives starts to explain, as the bad batch all listen intently, Echo just looks over at Fives. “We forgot to check the full moon cycle, and Echo ended up transforming after me and him were trapped with a new shiny.” Everyone looks at Fives, then Echo sighs and continues. “I ended up transforming, and the shiny… he knew it was me, he watched it happen and heard me speak to Fives.” Echo takes a deep breath, as Hunter looks at him with understanding and sadness. “It’s okay, Echo. you don’t have to continue--” “No, I want to.” Echo interrupts and Hunter nods. “The shiny then shot me, right in the chest. Fives then captured him as he tried to shoot me again and called Kix, the shot had just missed my heart, if Kix had gotten there even a minute later… I’d be dead.” They all have a look of disgust as Echo finishes.

“That's… that's disgusting, he had no right.” Wrecker says, angry that his new brother had almost been killed before they had a chance to meet him. “What's his name, and number?” Crosshair growls, making Echo flinch. Hunter puts a hand on Crosshair’s shoulder. “Easy, Cross.” Crosshair huffs, and Hunter then turns to Echo. “Please tell me that Captain of yours didn’t let him off scot free?” Fives barks out a laugh, making them all turn to him. “Oh, hell no. Rex was absolutely pissed! Lets just say no one ever found out Echo was a werewolf, and that shiny was transferred to a different battalion, we never saw him again.” Hunter smiles and crosses his arms happily, laying against the wall, Tech smiles. “Thank the force, that shiny was cruel.” Echo smiles, then Hunter looks over to him.

“Don’t worry, we’ll help you out with this, I promise. We are kind of experts now.” Hunter smiles at Echo, but then he frowns. “And you aren’t a monster.” Echo frowns, ears pressing back. “I know, but...it's just sometimes difficult to believe that.” He looks down at the floor, feeling like a Di'kut for even thinking about himself in that way, but deep down, there is something telling him that it's true-- “Echo,” The sound of Fives' voice makes him perk up a little. “Remember what I've always told you. No matter what you may look like, you'll always be you. My Echo. And I'll always be your goofball twin.” Echo smiles and chuckles, his tail starts wagging out of his control, making him grab it nervously. He's still not used to being a werewolf yet, so he's still not exactly sure what is normal and what isn't.

Hunter smiles kindly “It's okay, Echo. There's no need to be embarrassed about it, it's normal, so don't worry.” That gives Echo a little more confidence, enough to make him let go of his tail and let it wag, letting his happiness spill out as much as he wants. He then pulls Fives into another hug, nuzzling and then licking the top of his head gently. Echo freezes, then he groans “This is going to take getting used to.” Everyone chuckles, including himself. “Don't worry, Echo! We'll help'ya!!” Wrecker excitedly let's out a shout, making Echo jump but also feel happy at the same time.

“I’m already coming up with plans to make you cybernetics that we can switch you to while in your wolf form, until then we can transform first, then carry you out and just sit out instead of running.” Tech says, smiling. Echo frowns and his ears press back again. “I’d rather not.” Hunter frowns and so do the others. “It’s okay, it’ll be just us. You’ll be safe.” Echo shakes his head. “No.” Echo refuses. Hunter frowns as he looks nervously at the others. “Look, we won’t force you, but let me tell you, if you go too long without the full moon you’ll get sick.” Hunter warns, then Crosshair huffs. “Yeah, we learned that the hard way.” Echo grimaces. “I’ll think about it.” Hunter nods, then he see’s Echo yawn. “Maybe we should get some shuteye?” They all nod, including Echo and Fives, then Hunter and the batchers get nervous looks. “We usually have a cuddle pile when we are like this, would you like to join? You don’t have to of course, we’ll understand.” Echo thinks for a moment. “Sure, I’d like that.”

Hunter and the rest perk up. “Yeah!!” Wrecker yells out, making everyone chuckle, Hunter smiles. “Okay, Tech and Crosshair, go grab a blanket from each room, including Fives.” They both nod and run off, then Hunter turns to Echo and Fives, who have confused looks. Hunter chuckles. “We need a lot of blankets since we take up more room, and having the familiar smells is nice.” Echo and Fives nod as Tech and Crosshair return, and the four more experienced wolves start to make a little cosy bed as Tech closes the door to the Marauder, Wrecker runs to his room, and returns with Lula, the stuffed Tooka looks so much tinier now, almost dwarfed by Wrecker’s arms.

Echo chuckles as Wrecker walks over. “Can I pick you up again?” He asks nervously, and Echo nods. “Yeah, sure.” Wrecker picks him up, then he carries him over to the blankets and lays him down, as the rest of them lay around him. He’s between Hunter and Crosshair. Fives smiles as he looks at his twin, happy that he’s happy. Then he turns and goes to float away. But suddenly he’s grabbed and pulled into the cuddle pile by Hunter. “Oh no you don’t, you are a brother too, Fives, alive or not.” Fives frowns as he’s laid between Echo and Hunter. “But I only sleep every few weeks, and I don’t think that's now. I’ll keep you up,” Hunter licks the top of Five's head. “We don’t care, no brother is going to be left out of the cuddle pile.” Fives smiles as he’s pulled into Echo, then he looks at Hunter. “I… okay, I trust you guys.”

Hunter’s eyes widen, along with everyone else’s. Everyone is surprised, because they thought for sure that Fives' trust issues would have made him act otherwise. It's a big thing for Fives to say that he trusts them, but it makes them glad and happy that he trusts them enough to cuddle with him and Echo. Fives believes that Echo mixing with other werewolves will be a good thing too, as it'll mean that he'll be able to socialize with his own kind, to embrace his new nature.

Knowing that Echo isn't the only one going through this anymore relieves Fives. He's always, and will still be, there for Echo, but also having others there, who are just like him and understand what he's going through, who know how it feels, is going to help Echo a lot more. Fives listens to the soft snores and gentle breathing filling the room as he notices that the others have all drifted off to sleep. He smiles as he closes his eyes, not caring if he can't sleep as much as he used to, he just loves to relax and pretend he's sleeping, to make him feel normal again.

xxx

Hunter is the first to wake up, groggily opening his eyes to find that his eyes are covered by something. He reaches a hand up to his face and pulls it off and looks at it, seeing that it's his bandana. That's when he notices that he and everyone else are back to their normal selves. He looks over at Echo, seeing that he's hugging Fives close as he sleeps. It's not that it's a bad thing that it was just Echo and Fives, but he needs to know that what he is now, is not a monster. That he’s still Echo, and being around himself and his brothers will help with that, they can help with that. They will help with that.

Hunter hears someone shuffling about, so he brushes the rogue strands of hair out of his face and looks over to see Tech stirring awake, his goggles have slipped off of his head too and fell on the ground in between them both. He carefully sits up, then looks around. His vision is pretty blurry, but he can make out the outlines of his brothers, then he looks at Hunter. He can tell it's him because of the vibrant red colour being put around his head. “Hunter, are we…” He begins to whisper out, trying to find his goggles, but then Hunter hands them out to him. He puts them on and is finally able to see now. “Yep, we're human again.” Tech says, answering his own question. Hunter smiles, then gestures over to Fives and Echo, making Tech look over.

“Fives did end up sleeping.” Tech says with a smile, and Hunter smiles as well. “Yeah.” Crosshair then sits up, followed by Wrecker. Crosshair looks down at Echo and Fives, giving his own soft smile. “We’re human again.” He says and Hunter nods as Wrecker stretches. “Fives is sleeping?” Wrecker asks, and both Tech and Hunter nod. “Yeah, Echo is still sleeping too.” They all turn when Echo mumbles something in his sleep, then clutches onto Fives even tighter, hunter frowns. “We need to help him with this, he was alone before, even though he had Fives.” They all nod. “I couldn’t imagine going through this alone, and I would have too if I hadn't bitten you guys, still sorry for that.” Hunter, Wrecker and Crosshair all frown.

Hunter pulls Tech close. “It wasn’t your fault, Tech. You weren’t yourself. We’ve told you this so many times, but if it makes you feel better for us to keep reminding you, then that's what we’ll do.” Tech smiles and cuddles into Hunter. “Yeah, Hunter’s right.” “Yep.” Wrecker and Crosshair say, making Tech smile happily, then Hunter smirks. “Besides, even if you hadn’t of bitten me, I would have had you bite me later. I would never make you go through something like this alone.” Tech smiles. “Thanks, Hunter.” “Ow.” They all turn to see Echo blinking his eyes open, a hand massaging his leg. “We’re human again.” Echo says quietly, and Hunter smiles as he walks over to him and Fives, who’s still snoring away.

“Yeah, how you feeling?” Echo gives a small smile. “My stumps are hurting, but I’m happy to be human again.” Hunter gives Echo a comforting smile. “We’ll get you some painkillers.” Then Hunter looks at Fives. “How has Fives not woken up from us talking yet?” Echo chuckles. “Fives could sleep through almost anything while he was… was alive. It must still be the same when he does get some sleep.” Hunter nods, then Echo places a hand on Fives’ shoulder and shakes him gently, making him wake up.

“Wait! Wha?” Fives looks around and his eyes widen. “Shit, I actually slept.” Hunter chuckles. “Yep! And we are human again, so we should get the ship prepared before tonight.” Fives nods as he stands up, and Tech stands as well. “I’ll get you some painkillers, Echo. You just relax and let the cuts in your legs and arm heal today.” Echo goes to protest when Hunter steps up. “No buts, you rest.” Echo sighs, but he nods as they all go to get dressed, and Echo lays back down, he closes his eyes, happy to know that he and Fives have new brothers they can trust with this secret.

taglist: @lightning-wolffe @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life

#werewolves #were!echo #were!bad batch #were!tech #were!hunter #were!crosshair #were!wrecker #ghost!fives #The Big Not So Bad Wolves AU.#my writing #star wars the bad batch #the bad batch #tbb echo

35 notes · View notes

jwillowwolf · 3 years

Text

Magic and Miracles - Chapter 11

Sanders Sides Big Bang fic, Chapter 11!

< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter >| Masterlist

Summary: He sighed in relief only to tense up when he noticed the expression on Logan’s face.

“What happened?”

“We need a miracle.”

Warning/s: food mention, minor violence.

Characters: Logan, Virgil, OCs, Roman, Remy, Remus, Patton, Janus.

Tag List: @theimprobabledreamersworld @remy-please-come-back

Read on AO3

11 | Danger Unknown

Once Virgil and Logan returned to the room, Virgil made a request not to be disturbed and they put up a magical barrier to keep anyone from using enchanted items or spells to spy on them. The group was sitting in the living area, with the tv turned off, and trying to come up with a plan of action, or at least a logical theory as to what is happening. So basically, they were stuck with no idea as to what was going on or what their next move should be.

Logan frowned. “Could these events be connected? Virgil’s parents and grandmother both being essentially missing.”

Remy shrugged. “Possibly. Right now though we’re just guessing.”

“I think that our next move is more obvious than we think,” Remus declared. “We need to find Virgil’s grandmother.”

Roman nodded. “But where to start?”

Remus shrugged. “Her room?”

“Whether she’s there or not though, they’ll have guards stationed there to keep up the ‘she’s sick and quarantined’ charade.” Janus pointed out.

“Oh! What if we use the teleportation spell?” Patton proposed.

“Would that even work in this realm?” Willow wondered. “And what if they have some kind of magic barrier like we have here?”

“Virgil, is there anyone who you would trust to tell you the truth about what’s happening? The best thing we can do is find a reliable source to inform us what’s going on.” Remy said.

Virgil sighed. “The Earl was my grandmother’s closest advisor, and I don’t think we can trust him at all.”

“What about the reporters? You said they give news to the people of this realm, so surely they would have some information,” Logan reasoned.

Virgil perked up. “I don’t know how reliable they’d be, but I guess that’s a start. We’d need to comb through the news channels on TV.”

“Ooh, I can do that. I figured out how to use the remote properly,” Patton proudly stated.

“I could do some reconnaissance. Like covertly listening in on what people say to each other,” Willow suggested.

“I can help keep you hidden while you’re doing that,” Janus added.

“Roman and I could also do some covert reconnaissance. Our hearing isn’t as good as Willow’s but it’s still pretty sharp,” Remus stated.

Virgil nodded. “Alright, Pat can look into what’s on the news while Remus, Roman, Janus and Willow act as our spy teams. Logan and I have left the room before, so we can go out again and try to see my grandmother or at least fake that we’re doing that to see how well her room is being guarded.”

Remy frowned. “Hang on kids. If there is something going on, I would like to get us out of here as soon as possible. You shouldn’t be getting too deep into stuff like this.”

“It’s dangerous, but we knew this was going to be risky when we agreed to it. And, really, this might be our safest option considering how the Earl was trying to convince Virgil to go back home.” Logan noted.

Remy sighed. “If you really need to check in on the queen, then I may know a spell that can help. But it’s difficult for normal mages to cast.”

The group exchanged curious glances. “What is it?”

“Mind linking,” Remy stated. “It’s a high-level spell that can allow a person to link their consciousness to someone else. You can’t do a full connection unless two people are doing the spell with each other, but there’s a way to use the spell to specifically disconnect one’s consciousness for a time in order to find other minds in the space around you. Aka this building. The spell goes through all kinds of loopholes and can work even inside or through magical barriers, but the caster needs a proficiency in mind magic…”

“So, theoretically, I could cast the spell?” Virgil asked.

“Yes, but another rule is you can’t cast the spell onto yourself.”

“You could cast it onto me though,” Logan said.

“I was actually thinking I could take the spell,” Remy declared.

“I think Logan should do this. If Pat’s watching the news, the twins, Janus, and Willow are out spying, and I’m maintaining this spell, then it would probably be a good idea to have someone checking news sites online, and we don’t have time to teach Logan about the internet,” Virgil pointed out.

“Inter-net? Is it some kind of magical net you catch information with?” Roman asked.

“Like I said, we don’t have time to introduce you guys to it. Maybe later though.”

Remy sighed. “Alright. But we’re going to need to go into full detail with this plan…”

The team did plan things out as best they could. Virgil explained to the spy team how to navigate the building. After that, Roman, Remus, Janus and Willow went to the elevator, casting invisibility spells on themselves that would make it so only they could see/detect each other, then went their separate ways.

Meanwhile, Remy showed Patton which channels were for the news and gave Logan the instructions for the Mind spell. Pat made notes on everything that was being said on TV in a small black notebook and once Remy finished instructing Logan he found a tablet to use the internet on.

“Remember, I’m only able to keep this up for five minutes, then you’ll be pulled back into your body,” Virgil said. “You know where to go?”

Logan nodded. “I’ll be fine, Virge. We can both pull this off.”

Virgil nodded. “Okay. You might want to lie down then.”

Logan laid down and closed his eyes as the spell was cast. He could feel as the magic flowed through his body like a gentle wave washing over the shore. For a moment he thought that the spell had failed since nothing else changed, but then he sat up and opened his eyes only to realise that he was outside of his own body. More specifically, he was floating just above his body like a ghost.

He felt suddenly excited at this discovery. It was like he was now a ghost completely disconnected from his physical form. A glance over to Virgil however reminded him of the current urgency of his mission. He was watching Logan’s body with a particular concern. Right now he had no idea what was happening to Logan and it was worrying him a great deal.

Logan wanted to reassure him in some way, but this form wouldn’t really be able to do that, so instead, he focused on finishing his task so that when Virgil pulled him back he would have some useful information. He floated up to the ceiling and then phased through it like it was nothing more than a cloud of fog. He navigated his way literally through the building quickly until he came to the hall outside of the queen’s bedroom.

There were indeed a pair of guards outside the door, but no one else seemed to be on this floor. Logan phased through the door and looked around if anyone was there. The room was lavishly decorated in silver and lavender tones, with a pair of ornate wardrobes on either side of a large vanity table, a wall to wall bookshelf, and a large king-sized bed. In the bed, someone was laying down.

On closer inspection, Logan found that the someone was a fae woman with long tresses of silver hair that was spread out all over her pillows. She looked weak and sickly, with cold sweat on her forehead. Logan reached out to touch her so he could hopefully see into her mind when a voice from behind him said.

“Hello.”

Logan whipped around to find the spirit of the woman in the bed standing behind him. “Gah!”

“Oh, sorry darling, I didn’t mean to scare you there. You came looking for me, right?”

“Queen Valeria?”

“The one and only!” The woman said with a smile before her face turned serious. “You’re my grandson’s friend. Correct?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Then I need you to get him out of here. Immediately. Tell my son what’s going on here so that he can save the rest of this world before it’s too late for the others. I won’t last long enough to see him again...”

“I- no, your majesty I don’t really know what is happening but I’m sure that Virgil will not leave if you’re going to-- to die.”

“Child, there is no way to save me. All of you need to go to Nico and explain to him that Earl Ynclementia has overthrown me. Then he’ll know what to do next once my powers transfer to him.”

“Ma’am… Prince Nico and King Thomas have both disappeared. They were attacked by an unknown spellcaster during a meeting and no one knows what’s happened to them or where they vanished to.”

Valeria paled. “No… then Ynclementia’s plan was successful. That’s just all the more reason for you to get Virgil out of here. If he receives my powers then… it all will fall to him…”

Logan felt a lump in his stomach at the realisation of what she meant. With his parents gone and his grandmother dying, Virgil would be forced to take rulership over both humans and fae. Except the fae realm has been stolen by the earl, and if Virgil reveals his heritage without his parents support, then lord knows what might happen.

The people could rise against him in fear. Dethrone or even kill him. Even if he were completely accepted as half-fae, they could still try to take away his throne on the excuse he was underaged and possibly didn’t have the necessary training to rule in his fathers’ steads.

“Your majesty, there must be something we can do. If you’re here outside of your body then surely there’s still time to heal you.”

“Dear, I don’t have much time left. The spell I’m using to keep myself alive will be gone soon enough. Nothing but a miracle could save me now. Please, my only wish is that Virgil is safe. Take him home and… tell him to destroy the porthole. Right now, I’m using a spell to keep Ynclementia here, but once I’m gone he will try to take over your realm as well. That cannot happen.”

“No, there has to be something. There has to be a way to save you.”

“As I said, nothing but a miracle could do that.”

Logan looked down at his feet sorrowfully, then an idea struck him. “A-a miracle. Like the mythical creature, Miracle?”

Valeria gave a short laugh. “I doubt there are any of those just walking around in your realm, much less this one.”

“But if we found one, it could save you?”

“Well, they’re supposed to have boundless knowledge of the universe, so possibly. But it’s impossible to find one. Please just… just get Virgil away. Right now he’s going to need good friends more than ever.”

Valeria stared sorrowfully at the painting above her door. Only now Logan noticed it. A large portrait of Valeria, Thomas, Nico, Tanya, Dune and Virgil, all together smiling happily. If the queen died now then Virgil really would need friends. His fathers were completely missing and neither Tanya nor Dune could leave the forest. In the castle, facing the duties of ruling a kingdom, Virgil would be completely alone.

Logan couldn’t let that happen.

He tried to say more to Valeria but he felt that his soul was being pulled back. As his vision faded he heard Valeria say one more time, “Take him home.”

Barely a blink and a breath later, his consciousness returned and Logan found himself back in his body, with Virgil staring at him in concern. He sighed in relief only to tense up when he noticed the expression on Logan’s face.

“What happened?”

“We need a miracle.”

Virgil tugged on his hood. “Is it that bad?”

“No, well, what I mean- ugh, do you remember Remus’s dream?”

“That one about the giant bagel?”

“No, the recurring one. That one that started on our vacation.”

“Oh, the nightmare.”

“Yes, that. To save the person, we needed to find the miracle that time left behind, right?”

“I’m with you so far.”

“I think that that dream was very literal…”

An hour later, the group was reunited and once again stuck thinking of what to do next. Logan explained everything that happened with Valeria, leaving Virgil terribly distressed, and then the spy team returned with the news that Ynclementia planned to use them as hostages since the plans to get rid of Virgil’s parents and assassinate Virgil ‘failed’.

“Assassinate me?”

Willow nodded. “That’s what a rockslide was. The agent Ynclementia sent must have believed they killed you then went off to get your parents.”

“And now Ynclementia thinks both plans failed so he needs you as a hostage to use against your fathers.” Janus sighed.

“The news isn’t giving me any hope either,” Remy stated. “It seems that they’ve… erased the queen. Like she or any of your family never existed. They’ve made it look like Earl Imbecile has always been in power and no one is speaking up about it.”

Patton nodded. “From what I’ve seen on TV they’re scared to even talk about him. Whenever they refer to anything he’s done or is doing, they have this terrible fear in their eyes.”

“Then it isn’t like they’ve been brainwashed or anything. They’ve been traumatized.” Roman theorised.

Remus chewed on her fingernails. “We need to get out of here.”

“Well, it’s not like we can just walk out of the place.” Janus declared. “They would lock us up for real if they caught us.”

“A porthole,” Willow said. “We can use a porthole to get ourselves back to the realm porthole and go home.”

“You pointed out earlier that kind of magic might not work in this realm.” Roman reminded them.

“Well, yeah, but how many successful spells have we used now?”

“Okay true.”

The group used a porthole to get themselves back to the realm porthole, then went through the second porthole and found Tanya, Dune, and a few other pixies waiting for them. Tanya looked at Virgil with a worried expression. She could already tell that something had gone wrong.

“Virgil?”

“...We need to close the porthole.”

---

A/N: thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this. I'll be posting two chapters a day until the full fic is up, so if you want to be tagged, you can just ask.

I'd love to hear what you thought about the chapter if you wouldn't mind commenting. Thanks again for reading! Here's hoping you have a magical day 💜

9 notes · View notes